#and by reminding him of his interest in both music and cultivation

[milkgemini]

Haze

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 4k

Warnings: smut! 18+ minors DNI. oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, marijuana use.

A/N: merry christmas lovies :)

listen

“josh stop hogging the joint.” 

it’s a friday night and you have found yourself on the floor of your apartment, passing a joint back and forth with your childhood best friend. 

smoking with josh was one of your favorite things to do. you found him to be so interesting, with the way he randomly shot  bizzare facts at you while holding the most intricate conversations on subjects you’d usually find mundane if it were anyone else. 

“you’ve been holding it in your hand for about 5 minutes now. you’re letting it burn” 

“sorry honey, here.” 

Honey 

honey was the nickname josh gave you in highschool. there was a time you bought yourself a new perfume. josh loved the scent. said it reminded him of honey and chamomile, his favorite tea combination. so the name stuck. to him, it may have been a cute joke, but to you, every time you heard the nickname roll off of his tongue, it made your skin feel warm. 

“got lost in thought for a second” he carried on. 

“what are ya thinking about?” you asked him with a tilt of your head, passing the joint back to him again. because unlike josh, you take your hit and pass it right back. 

he reaches over for the joint, his head facing the ceiling, concentrating on the boring white paint. as he grabs the joint from you, your fingertips touch momentarily. he doesn’t turn his head, but the reaction in your stomach makes the sides of your mouth curl up. 

“if i were a couples therapist,” he rambles on, “i would totally suggest that everyone just get high with their partner. bam! problem solved.”

his answer causes you to huff a laugh. “i don’t think it’s that simple josh.” 

“well it can’t hurt.” he replies, followed by the exhale of smoke leaving his throat. 

silence was never awkward with josh. comfortability in the silence between conversations without finding it awkward was something you dearly cherished about your friendship with josh. 

with your heads both resting on the bottom of the couch, laying on the floor of your living room. you both stared at the ceiling side by side, taking in the soft music of “china cat sunflower” playing from the record player on the other side of the room. 

“ask me a question” he finally breaks the silence. 

“uhhh like what?” you retort back. 

“well that question doesn’t count. ask another.” 

you start to feel the high creep up, and everything josh says to you causes you to giggle. 

“ok well, let me think. what’s your favorite quality in a person?” you ask. 

“oh that’s a good one, honey. i would say i gravitate to the nurturing aspect of people. a caring soul can heal another ya know?” he answers your question. 

his reply causes you to smile genuinely to yourself. 

he moves from staring at the ceiling on his back, to turning on his side facing you, propping his elbow up and resting his head in the palm of his hand. 

“kind of like you.” he says to you, his voice soft. you can hear the smile on his face as he talks. 

“what?” you’re not sure if it’s because you’re now high, or the slight crush you have on josh is influencing your stupid question. you heard exactly what he said. 

“you know. your mind is cultivating. i can tell you care deeply about the people you surround yourself with. it’s comforting to me.” he holds eye contact with you and shoots you a toothy grin. 

his smile. the way his teeth are perfectly straight. with the adorable gap between the two in the front. his lips curling to hug those teeth as his smile grows wider. he’s perfect to you. 

“well thanks josh. you’re very sweet you know that” you’re praying he can’t see the pink tint forming on your cheeks right now. 

“you know…” he playfully squeezes your thigh right above your knee as you’re still seated back against the couch, him on his side. he keeps his hand rested there and you can feel your skin underneath heating up from his touch. “i may be stoned, but your beauty is noticeably remarkable tonight.” 

“josh…”

“what?” he sits back up, scooching closer to you now. your hips just about touching. his face tilted to look you in the eye. “friends can call each other beautiful, ya know” his eyes were heavy. a goofy smile plastered across his face as he flicks back and forth between looking in your eyes to your lips quickly. 

you realize his hand has never lost its spot on your thigh. “oh.. sorry i kinda forgot my han-“

“no it’s okay” you grab his hand and place it back on your thigh. 

“okay… well then what about this..” his fingertips trace lightly up your thigh but leave to find your jawline, carefully turning your head to look directly at him now. your faces are close, but noses not yet touching. he’s still giving you that lulled smile. 

“that’s okay too, josh” you answer his question. trying your best not to stare at his lips. 

“now it’s my turn to let you know that’s okay” he replies, thumb swiping against your jaw now. 

“hmm? what do you mean” a bashful smile creeping up on your face. 

“i see you glancing to my lips. it’s okay.” he reassures you. 

“yeah?” your bottom lip is tucked between your teeth as your stare shifts into his eyes. 

his thumb leaves its spot on your jaw and moves to your lips. pulling your bottom lip from your teeth, softly brushing over it. 

you can feel him moving closer to you now. his right hand firmly planted on the carpet between you, his left cupping your chin, pulling you closer until your noses brush against each other. 

“and this? is this ok-“ he asks. 

you answer his question by pressing your lips against his. the feeling of his soft lips causes any thought left in your brain to melt. with your nose so close to his skin, you take in his scent deeply between breaths. his fingers extended across your cheek holding you in place as if you would ever leave. 

josh keeps the kiss gentle, but passionate. pressing his lips against yours hard, but not rushed. he dares to make the first move by opening his mouth, inviting your tongue inside. your tongue brushes against his, feeling the warmth of the inside of his mouth. you hum to yourself as you taste him for the very first time. he tastes like the mint of the gum he was chewing earlier accompanied by the weed you’ve shared together. 

he breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead to you, his nose still slotted against yours. you pout to yourself, never wanting that specific moment in time to end. 

“honey, can i tell you something…” 

you’re worried. does he have some secret girl in his life that he’s never told you about and is planning to spring something on you?

“what is it?” you finally reply, trying your best not to seem anxious. 

“i have wanted to taste your lips for a very long time. feel how soft they are.” 

you feel your shoulders relax. he’s thought of you in this way? for how long?

you don’t reply verbally, but instead with the continuation of the kiss. this one with more force behind it. you grab the back of his neck causing him to crash into you. with the music on such a low volume in the corner, the sounds of you both gasping for air between kisses fills the room. 

he pulls away from you to stand in front of you, extending his arms out to offer you his hands. you take them and he pulls you to your feet. toe to toe, chest to chest, he places a hand on either side of your face, tilting your head upward to look at him. he smiles to himself while scanning your face entirely. 

“so pretty, honey.” 

his lips find yours once more as he guides you backwards towards the couch. the back of your knees hit it, and he slowly guides you to sit as he follows after. he positions your legs to drape across his lap. your back laying against the arm of the couch. 

his grip on your cheek trails down to your neck. tilting your chin up to face the ceiling. his lips leave yours just to be replaced against the skin under your ear. his lips are swollen from being attached to yours for so long, they feel so soft and plump against the sensitive skin there. 

as he continues his trail of kisses, the ones against your collarbone become wetter, flicking his tongue out to taste a new expanse of skin he’s never explored before. he slides down the straps of your tank top and bra, letting them fall against your arm. he leaves kisses to your shoulder, back down to the top of your breast. when he gets there, he opens up to softly nip the plump skin there. you confirm your enjoyment in his actions by letting a soft moan leave your mouth. 

his fingertips curl over the top of your tank and the cups of your bra. before he does anything, he looks up at you through his lashes, silently asking for permission. your hand finds the top of his head pushing him down granting him access to that intimate part of you. 

before he pulls your top down, he reaches behind you to unclasp your bra with one hand. you don’t know whether to be impressed or heated with jealousy at his ability to do that. with your bra out of the equation, he pulls your top down to just below your breasts. with you fully in his view now, he grabs both in his hands and kneads the soft skin with his palms. his mouth attached to your right nipple, sucking lightly. as his mouth leaves you, he replaces his lips with his tongue as to not make you miss him too long between. he flattens his tongue against your nipple and swipes over it once, maintaining eye contact. he changes the motion to short flicks of his tongue. with your hand still on the back of his neck, you begin to tug at the curls there. 

“oh josh” you stretch your neck that’s resting on the arm of the couch, to face the ceiling now. playing with his curls in between the flicks of his tongue on your nipple.

he leaves your breast and assists you in lifting your arms up to pull your tank top over your head. as he smoothes them back down to your side, he grabs your hips, forcing you to scooch down on the couch laying more flat now. 

his lips return back to your skin, leaving quick kisses down your tummy in a straight line. the palm of your hand brushes from his forehead to his hair pushing it back exposing his forehead to you. you continue these motions over and over, a way of answering in physical touch how much you’re enjoying this right now. 

he finally reaches the elastic band of your sweatpants, and kisses a horizontal line at the skin right above them. his fingers curl underneath the band. you buck your hips up to help him in the removal of them. he tugs both your panties and your sweats down to your ankles, gripping your heels one at a time to help you get your feet out, then tosses the pants to the side. 

as soon as his focus is back on you, he realizes your legs are clamped shut, knees touching. 

he reaches over, swiping his thumb against your cheekbone. “you know honey, we don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with?” he grins down at you with the most genuine smile. making you feel loved and cared for. 

“no it’s not that, josh. i want this. with you. it’s just..” 

“you can tell me..” he makes you feel safe. 

“it’s just.. i’ve never done this. i’ve never had someone taste me there..”

his hands are now rubbing up and down your thighs finally stopping at your knees, slowly prying them from each other to spread yourself for him. 

“oh honey. can i please show you how bad i’ve wanted to taste you there. let me show you how much i’ve wanted this” 

he continues to push your thighs apart, while slowly lowering himself to slot between your legs. you give him a shy nod in confirmation and begin to relax your shoulders against the couch. 

his lips finally return to the skin below your belly button, taking his time to make sure you feel every second of this. in his mind he is thinking, “she deserves to feel every ounce of pleasure”. with his mouth reaching closer to the spot you need him most, his hands clutch the meat of your thighs to fully expose you to him. thumbs rubbing lightly against the sensitive skin there. 

bucking your hips towards his face, you show him you’re ready to feel his mouth against you. he huffs a laugh and lowers his head. as you look down, all you can see are the curls at the top of his head, his face disappearing between your thighs. you wish you snap of photo of this. 

he places a quick kiss to your lower lips, immediately sending chills to your body. he can see your wetness start to accumulate between your folds. the sight of it, giving him the motivation to roughly push your thighs back with the palm of his hands. his dives into you, flattening his tongue and running it up your slit a few times. 

your hand snaps down to his curls, gripping a handful and tugging. 

“oh fuck josh! that feels fucking amazing.” 

after your core is soaked from both your wetness and his saliva, he points his tongue to improve his accuracy beyond your lips. he starts at your entrance, just barely inserting the tip of his tongue. 

“oh my god..” your grip on his curls tightens with every wave of pleasure. he loves to hear your sounds of approval. 

his tongue quickly swipes up to your clit, causing your hips to jolt. with this reaction, he looks up at you through his lashes as he focuses on your tiny bud of pleasure. he surrounds his lips with it, pulling it between them, audibly letting go each time. after a few times, he leaves open mouths kisses against your clit, as if he’s making out against your pussy. the combination of his lips to your clit and his tongue swirling against it creates a tight feeling in your stomach. 

“more josh.. can you-“ 

“like this?” he shoves two fingers inside you roughly with no warning. his mouth still sucking your clit between his lips as he pumps his ring finger and middle finger in you, never breaking eye contact. 

“fuck josh. yes just like that. please.” your hips are grinding against his mouth and fingers. your jaw clenched as you crane your neck towards the ceiling. 

his pace quickens, both his fingers and the flicks of his tongue against your clit. he watches you from down below. he watches your body twitch with pleasure and your jaw clench. he feels you squirming. 

“josh i think i’m gonna cum. please don’t stop” you say to him through clenched teeth. 

“please cum for me honey. cum in my mouth just like this.” 

his dirty words are what sends you off the edge completely. you’ve never heard josh speak so sexually before, to you or anyone for that matter. you let out a strangled moan not caring what neighbors hear you. your back arches off the couch, the palm of your hand never releasing it’s grip on his hair. 

as you begin to return back down to earth, you feel josh slowly licking you through the come down of your orgasm. before he can finish with you, you grab the sides of his face and pull his mouth to yours. his upper lip is wet with your arousal, the taste of yourself on his tongue turning you on even more. 

with josh still fully clothed, resting between your legs, you break the kiss to hold his face and look him in the eyes. 

“i want you to fuck me, joshua.” 

he grins down to you and places a kiss to the side of your mouth. 

“anything for you, honey. anything” 

he attaches his mouth to yours once more. continuing the open mouthed kisses as he simultaneously pulls his briefs and sweats down. 

once free from confinement, he grips his length in his palm. you stare wide eyed at him. his cock is pretty. you didn’t know a cock could be so pretty, but his is. he’s big but not too much to where it would be too painful, but you’re favorite part is how thick he is. the thought of it makes you crave him stretching you out even more. 

as your thoughts race, you become more impatient and need him inside you, now. you wrap your ankles around his hips and bring him further down towards you. his length still in his hands, he runs the tip of his dick through your folds. gathering your wetness before diving inside you. 

with each brush against your clit, you bite down harder on your bottom lip. he plays with your pussy with his cock for a while, before the teasing becomes too much for you. 

you forcefully grab his biceps and bring him even closer now, his lips just ghosting yours. 

“josh please… i want to feel you inside of me. please?” 

although teasing your pussy made his cock even harder, he can’t control himself when he hears your gentle fucked out voice. 

he leans back on the heels of his feet and concentrates on the tip of his cock entering you. with just the tip in, your jaw already falls open. he glances back up at you with a sneaky grin. 

“more josh. now.”

with this, he shoves himself fully inside of you without any warning. a wailing moan escaping your throat at the feeling of him stretching you out. it burns, but the pain feels so good. 

after a few seconds of letting you become accustomed to him, he begins to slowly thrust in and out of you. his eyes roll into the back of his head as he feels how wet you are, coating his cock completely. 

as his pace quickens, his bottom lip finds itself tucked between his teeth, clamping down hard. his eyes dead locked on the sight of his cock slipping in and out of your pussy. the sight of it alone causing him to twitch inside of you. 

his right hand leaves your thigh and brings itself to your mouth. swiping his thumb against your bottom lip. you press a kiss to his thumb and he retracts it, just to place it on your clit. as he continues to slam into you, he swipes quickly across your clit, causing your toes to curl behind him. 

he leans down to find your lips with his own. pushing past your lips and licking into your mouth. you moan into his mouth as the rhythm of his thumb playing with your clit, and his cock fully submerged inside you never falter. 

you’re starting to feel so full and taken care of, as everything around you is consumed by josh. 

his thrusts into you become rougher, a sign he is nearing his own climax. his lips pull away from you. as he watches your tits bounce below him from the harshness of his thrusts, he groans to himself. his fingers leave your cheek just to find your bottom lip. he pulls your bottom lips down to expose your teeth. 

“open” he commands you quickly. 

you lower your bottom jaw and lay your tongue out flat for him. with him now hovering over you, he lets a trail of saliva fall onto your tongue and taps the side of your cheeks, silently instructing you to swallow. processing how sexy that was to you, your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

instead of quick swipes against your clit, he changes his pace to rubbing circles around it. he can feel you getting wetter as his cock slips in and out of you. 

“can you cum for me one more time, pretty girl? want to make you feel good again before mine.” 

he cups your jaw with just enough pressure while maintaining eye contact as his hips slam into the back of your thighs. his stare searing into your eyes. soft gasps and moans falling from your mouth with each slam into your pussy. 

he can feel you clench around his cock and he knows you're close. as if to purposely push you over that edge, he breaks the intense eye contact to look down at his thumb toying with your clit. his chin to his chest, he gathers saliva on his tongue letting it roll slowly off it and drip onto your clit, providing even more moisture for him to swirl around you.

as you watch him do this, your whines become so drawn out. he increases the pressure of his thumb pressing harder against your clit. 

“that’s it, baby. you’re there. now just let go for me” 

his comforting words force you into oblivion. the insides of your thighs shaking against his hips. you clench your jaw shut along with your eyes. 

he talks you through you orgasm. whispering sweet nothings to you, coaxing you through it. your constant pants of breath turning him on beyond belief. he’s holding on for dear life inside you, clenching his own jaw now. 

as soon as he feels your walls relax, his own need takes over him. he grips either side of your neck forcefully, aiding his thrusts into you. 

with one final pump, he pushes himself to the hilt and unleashes his cum inside you. immediately, you moan at the feeling of his warmth coating your walls; his cock twitching inside you. 

with his forehead pressed against yours, and his eyes closed, you swallow his breaths brushing against your lips. 

he opens his eyes looking into yours, with his cock still resting inside you, you feel as if he’s truly looking into you. his genuine gaze towards you causing heat to rise against your skin. 

his thumb brushing softly against your cheek bones, he places a slow and soft kiss to your lips, breathing in your scent deeply.

after a while of taking in each other's presence, bodies pressed against one another, he leans back on his heels. 

“i’m gonna pull out now, okay?” 

he slowly retracts himself from inside of you and watches the cum that was plugged with his cock slowly leak out from you. 

with the loss of his fullness you wince, but are taken by surprise when you see josh at the bottom of you, cock in his fist, swiping his cum up and down your slit. 

he squeezes the remainder of the cum off his length pulling from the bottom to the top and wiping it on his own shirt before reaching from behind to take it off of him and clean you with it. 

as he throws his shirt to the side, he lays down against you. his fingertips pressed to your jaw, turning your face to his to plant a kiss to your lips. 

“thank you, honey.” he murmurs into your ear. his voice being taken over with exhaustion. eyes beginning to close. 

you giggle underneath him, giving a kiss to his damp forehead, tasting the salt of the sweat on his skin. 

“for what, josh?” you ask. 

“you make me feel at home.” 

smallest taglist in the world :’) but ily: @writingcold

#josh kiszka #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka gvf #gvf smut #gvf fic #josh kiszka x reader #josh gvf #joshkiszka #josh kiszka one shot #josh kiszka fan fiction #gvf fanfiction #gvf one shot #josh kiszka x y/n

[fullscoreshenanigans]

Forever obsessed with and contemplating what’s going through their heads during this scene in S1e07. My go-to example for what I mentioned in my previous post about Isabella repeatedly oscillating between a tainted affection and deep loathing for Ray.

Any time she would find herself falling into the former, forgetting the circumstances of their relationship, him being the living, breathing reminder of one of the worst things HQ forced her to endure would resurface and how they chose to put him in her plant as if to silently mock her and unknowingly rub in how pitiful the life of a Mom would always be under this system. To openly love him would be one step further in giving in than she’d already done by accepting the Mom position and loving all the other cattle children she raised for slaughter, and she hated to give that much more of herself than she already had when she wasn’t aware of his origins.

It’s debatable how much of this is feigned interest on Ray’s part to throw her off to his true intentions, but based on his history of disassembling machines (per Shirai in the Mystic Code Book) and because I like to think both of them let their masks slip here, I’m going with this being a few brief seconds of genuine curiosity and delight at his final reward, all while Isabella observes with a neutral expression before breaking her gaze and turning away. One of what I imagine to be many twinges of authentic motherly affection and pride she experienced over the near six years she knew of his parentage, but it ends just as quickly as it began as she instantly dons the cool and collected yet deceptively guarded façade she began cultivating when she was in her teens.

As soon as Ray leaves, she lets the mask slip again (though not fully; that’s reserved for when she first learns of their connection, for when she discovers Ray and Emma are still alive after the house is in flames, and in the anime for when she confronts Emma on the wall; she’s still trying to maintain some semblance of composure. Even if her only audience is herself, there’s some pretenses she refuses to break under normal circumstances), tensing and drawing her arms ever so slightly closer to herself in ire and disdain as the shot hones in on the photograph he left behind with a foreboding musical accompaniment.

A second after she lays her hand upon it, we’re treated to the first of twelve tocks from the clock signaling that it’s midnight on November 2nd, 2045, but only the first one is heard on the final portion of this shot before transitioning to the chimes of the hallway clock that Ray looks at (an excellent directorial touch).

It’s really interesting considering what they chose to expand upon and omit from this side scene at the end of Ch22.

What I choose to view as their initial mask slippage isn’t there, and Ray looks decidedly more languid and nonchalant as it’s more sketchy in nature and Demizu was at this point still in the dark as to his ultimate fate, but it does include Isabella flipping over the photograph because she doesn’t want to confront how much she’s changed and yet how much has stayed the same at plant #3 since she took over, can’t bear to think of what she’s become and what her eleven-year-old self would think of her now, or perhaps it’s that and specifically because it was Ray who left it for her that rubs the salt even further into the wound. A reminder of why she never gave into those maternal feelings after the reveal and why she cannot give in now when she’s so close to shipping him out maturely as far as his records are concerned (I assume his actual birthday is in December or February and January was selected to throw Isabella off enough if she did begin to suspect something on her own, but maybe it was late November, who knows besides Shirai.)

“Where has the time gone, and what will I do with him no longer at my side...?” The comfort of the familiar, the security that came from having a spy among the children, and the many aforementioned twinges of affection, she might even miss him.

vs “finally, finally I will no longer be burdened with this painful reminder; I have endured, and I have come out the victor.” With Norman gone and not viewing Emma by herself as a threat, especially when she saw herself in Emma at that age, filled with despair upon realizing the true nature of Grace Field and feeling utterly alone in the world, Ray was probably always the final hurdle in her mind to obtaining her deluded vision of freedom within the confines of the farm system; the question never coming down to trying to save her son from his fate, but how upset she should feel about his inevitable demise.

#The Promised Neverland #Yakusoku no Neverland #TPN #TPN Isabella #TPN Ray #YnN Isabella #YnN Ray #Isabella 73584 #Ray 81194 #TPN S1 #TPN S1e07 #Escape Arc #Isabella #Ray #Isabella and Ray's Incredibly Fraught and Complicated Relationship Tag #Photographer Ray Tag #FSS Chatter #Video #me the first time i watched this scene as someone introduced to the series through the anime: ooo what mystery and intrigue is going on here #me every single subsequent time i rewatch it‚ internally crying: i am in pain. i am in muted physical agony. #debated sticking this on the tail end of my previous post but i wanted to include the dub clip because Laura Stahl sounds adorable #the balance of keeping it externally cool so your six-year plan isn't thrown awry #while internally resenting the woman before you who brought you into this nightmare and sacrificed dozens of children #and repeatedly berating yourself for still craving her affection #Isabella is such a complicated character that I feel placing her firmly on either end of the extremes is disingenuous #though with the route the manga took it I also feel people are more inclined to absolve her of many of her heinous actions #because the Grace Field kids (conveniently) do too #me living in my Isabella replaces Andrew AU that S2e04 gave me brainworms over #as a quick means to facilitate all the GF escapees to talk about their shared trauma regarding this woman #and finagling Ray's parentage reveal in there too because extremely self-indulgent ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

[theartistknownaslymond]

Oh also I can’t remember if I asked, but maybe an Oonagh playlist if you’d like? (Lmk if I’m requesting too many of these haha)

Not at all! Love getting these asks :D And this one was waaaaay too fun, I could have kept adding things forever. Managed to wrestle it down to 15 tracks...

Hard-wrought with Unleashed Storms - a playlist for Oonagh O'Dwyer in the band AU (link to Spotify)

The Dubliners - Óró Sé Do Bheatha' Bhaile

David Bowie - Oh! You Pretty Things

Gang of Four - We Live As We Dream, Alone

Grace Jones - Nipple to the Bottle

Cocteau Twins - The Spangle Maker

Carpenters - Ticket to Ride

Horslips - Hall of Mirrors

David Sylvian - When Poets Dreamed of Angels

Shriekback - The Big Hush

The Cure - Pictures of You

The Velvet Underground & Nico - All Tomorrow's Parties

Shakespeares Sister - Red Rocket

PJ Harvey - Sheela-na-gig

Kraftwerk - Das Model

Melissa Etheridge - Come to My Window

Comments below the cut. CW for discussion of domestic violence, EDs, you know...Oonagh stuff.

We begin with an Irish rebel song, of course. When you can also translate the opening lines as 'Welcome oh woman who was so afflicted, / It was our ruin that you were in bondage, / Our fine land in the possession of thieves… / And you sold to the foreigners!' I think we can safely call this an Oonagh song on every level.

Oh! You Pretty Things is early Bowie from Oonagh's modelling days, having a blast with her friends, living a life her family thoroughly disapproves of, and doing her bit to arm the nationalists on the side.

The Gang of Four track just makes me think of Oonagh's spikiness and cynicism, the way she throws herself into making money from her career and Cormac just doesn't believe she can really be doing that well from such a silly job - though he's happy to spend her earnings just the same. Then Nipple to the Bottle is another song about her and Cormac, alcoholism and dv, her defiance, plus Grace Jones has the kind of career Oonagh thinks she would love. And yes, I realise the song is actually about the breast vs bottle-feeding debate. But I suppose Oonagh probably has strong feelings about not being able to feed Cai herself given how unwell she becomes under Gabriel's care on the ashram, so it fits either way.

The Cocteau Twins track is just so sinister, very Berlin (QP) Oonagh, about both Cormac and Gabriel (though she doesn't know it about the latter yet). Ticket to Ride is her escape to the ashram (and yes I am deeply annoyed Karen Carpenter changed the pronouns, because it's Oonagh leaving, not Cormac), sad but at peace, and Oonagh is doubtless well aware that Karen Carpenter is battling with severe ed just like her. Horslips are another Irish band Oonagh would be fond of, and Hall of Mirrors covers everything from modelling and dysmorphia to the gas-lighting of Cormac and Gabriel. Eerily, the carnival music in the background reminds me a lot of Ticket to Ride, too.

The David Sylvian track is another one that covers her relationship with Cormac, her aunt Therese's deliberate ignoring of Cormac's violence because he's a poet and a 'great man' and the fact she puts up with him for so long for 'the cause' as well. Just imagine Francis playing a cover of this (it's a bit late, really, '88 I think, but go with it) and Oonagh raging in the audience at his audacity, but also being kind of moved that he's noticed and cares.

Softly explore each hallway and room

Like a thief in a haunted house

You never know what you will meet next

A monster or a mouse?

It's time to face up to yourself

Come and watch your head distort

This one's interesting

Shows a crack right through your heart

Then the Shriekback song is one I chose first because of the sound - it's exactly the sound Oonagh wants to cultivate in her break-through, and when she and Thady Boy sing it's precisely this kind of thing. The lyrics don't hurt either, mind:

She rises early from bed

Runs to the mirror

The bruises inflicted in moments of fury

He kneels beside her once more

Whispers a promise

"Next time I'll break every bone in your body"

And the well-wishers let the devil in

And if the river ran dry they'd deny it happening

Pictures of You is for Oonagh reflecting on her modelling career, reclaiming her identity and what she likes about herself. Musically I think she's really into early goth like The Cure.

Is there a flame in the dark?

Is there a bright hard star?

These creatures look the same now

We freeze wherever we are

We wake alone in the blackness

We sleep wherever we fall

One dream all around us

This big hush infects us all

All Tomorrow's Parties is one I had on the mini-playlist for Oonagh ages ago and it's just too her not to put it on here (see also Kraftwerk, Das Model). Definite Nico vibes to her brief attempt to get into pop-stardom, and she, too, has a quirky voice rather than a, uh, good one for singing.

Shakespeares Sister - Red Rocket is a bit of fun from a great Irish artist, but it's also a bit about the ashram:

And then oh, if I could draw, I would draw Oonagh and Marthe going absolutely ape-shit in the crowd as PJ Harvey sings Sheela-na-gig - reclaiming sexuality and Irishness and autonomy and just 'washing that man right outta my hair'. Finally, Come to My Window is also for Them - early '90s lesbian chart domination!! They deserve it.

Life's a bitch then you die

No more dancing in the sky

Part on another star

You can't get there in a car

Find a new religion

Going on a mission

Making a decision

To face my soul

#character: oonagh o'dwyer #playlists: period appropriate #character: cormac o'connor #character: marthe #persona: thady boy #band au: queens' play #band au: pawn in frankincense #band au: post canon #absolutely LOVED making this

[heterophobiclanwangji]

post-canon idea that wei wuxian starts working on a flute language as a mirror/companion to the lans' qin language and lan xichen picks up on it bc it allows him to communicate without having to leave the hanshi, talk verbally, or meet anyone face-to-face

#mdzs #cql #the untamed #wei wuxian #lan xichen #flute bros #also it's less time consuming than writing letters #wwx raising chenqing: 'hey are you good' #lxc on liebing: 'nope everything still sucks pretty bad actually' #wwx: 'oh okay just checking' #lxc: '...thanks' #lqr is super not thrilled about wwx using chenqing on the regular but eventually builds an immunity to it #wwx is unintentionally tricking lxc into self-care by helping him socially reintegrate in stages #and by reminding him of his interest in both music and cultivation #it's a process #my posts

[robininthelabyrinth]

Delight in Misery

- Chapter 10 (ao3) -

tumblr: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8 (interlude), part 9

-

In Lan Wangji’s view, the best part about the upcoming visit by Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen wasn’t the excuse to drag a tetchy and reluctant Jiang Cheng night-hunting, nor the chance to meet such interesting and swiftly famous cultivators, or even the vanishingly rare opportunity to learn more about Wei Wuxian by exploring his heritage on his mother’s side.

No – it was definitely the way the mere concept transformed Jiang Cheng into a stuttering teenaged admirer about to see their revered idol for the first time.

“You remember that they are both nearly ten years your junior?” he asked as Jiang Cheng fussed around, alternating between worrying himself sick for not being prepared to receive guests (for all that the Jiang sect had been receiving honored guests for years at this point) and bragging about the exploits of their soon-arriving guests to the fascinated flock of children dogging his heels.

“No more than seven or eight at most,” Jiang Cheng objected, and Lan Wangji rolled his eyes. “Anyway, that’s not the point. Look at how accomplished they both are! When I was that age, I hadn’t done anything!”

Lan Wangji didn’t think that was entirely right. When Jiang Cheng had been the age Xiao Xingcheng and Song Zichen were now, he’d endured the loss of his sect and rebuilt it from nothing, acting more or less singlehandedly while still finding time to fight the Wen sect shoulder-to-shoulder with the other Great Sects and also search for the missing Wei Wuxian with Lan Wangji.

He opted not to mention it.

Let Jiang Cheng keep his illusions and ignore the steady encroachment of time.

“You’re calling me old in your head,” Jiang Cheng said accusingly, and Lan Wangji pasted an innocent expression on his face as confirmation. “You are, you bastard! You know you’re older than me, right?”

Lan Wangji could get a great deal of out of an admission like that.

“That’s not what I meant! We’re peers, you…!” Jiang Cheng huffed. “Listen, you’d better be on your best behavior around our guests, all right? I don’t want them to be scared off just because it looks like you’re glowering whenever you think –”

“I’ll follow your example, then, and simply not think at all.”

“Go jump off a pier!”

The children all giggled.

“You’re all going to be on best behavior too,” Jiang Cheng told them, fierce as a hissing domestic cat and just as adorably toothless. “You hear me? All of you! A-Yuan, A-Ling, that means you’re going to be cute but not spoiled, while A-Yu can – actually, just do the same as them in an age-appropriate way, you’re cute enough –”

Mo Xuanyu beamed.

“Still, we don’t know what they’re like. Start by being a little reserved – not too loud –”

Lan Sizhui waved for attention as if they were in a classroom.

“…yes?” Jiang Cheng asked, looking vaguely resigned and grumpy in a way that was clearly meant to conceal how unbearably charming he found the gesture.

“Can I be called Sizhui this time?” Lan Sizhui asked eagerly. “I’m old enough!”

Jiang Cheng frowned a bit, and Lan Wangji understood. The Jiang sect generally didn’t use courtesy names until the child in question had mastered a full sword routine, usually age eight or nine, and close family almost never made the switch in full; from what Lan Wangji knew, Jiang Yanli had called Jiang Cheng ‘A-Cheng’ right up until the end of her life, not to mention referring routinely to Wei Wuxian, who she’d only met when he was already old enough to use his courtesy name, as ‘A-Xian’. The Lan sect, in contrast, started using courtesy names almost exclusively once a child was old enough to leave his parents, typically age three or four – Lan Wangji had been calling Lan Sizhui by name for years already, and had been needling Jiang Cheng to pick it up as well without success.

“I’ll introduce you,” Lan Wangji offered, saving Jiang Cheng the awkwardness of having to explain or decline or, worst of all for someone like Jiang Cheng, accidentally slip up and say something sappy like you’ll always be A-Yuan to me.

Lan Sizhui nodded, satisfied, and next to him, Jin Ling frowned. “What about me?” he asked. “Am I going to be Rulan?”

“The Jin sect is the last of the Great Sects in using courtesy names,” Jiang Cheng said, finally on more solid ground. “Not until you get your sword, and that’s not until you’re eleven. Or twelve!”

“But I already have a sword…”

“The age you would be if you were getting your own,” Lan Wangji interjected. “To make it fair to all the rest.”

That seemed to reassure Jin Ling, who nodded. “Good,” he grumbled. “I don’t wanna be Rulan, anyway…jiujiu, when did you say these guests would be arriving?”

That, of course, sent Jiang Cheng back into a flurry of activity, and Lan Wangji shook his head, long-suffering. “You’ve hosted entire discussion conferences,” he pointed out to Jiang Cheng. “There are only two cultivators this time. It is far easier.”

“Is it?” Jiang Cheng shot back. “Is it really?”

In contrast to the expectation and build up leading up to it, the actual arrival of Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen was rather unremarkable. They arrived just as the sun was setting, two young men, one beautiful and the other handsome, both valiant heroes with faces that shone with kindness and righteousness. Xiao Xingchen’s face was curved in a gentle smile, Song Zichen set in a neutral expression. Both seemed sincere and respectful when they bowed deeply in greeting.

“It’s a pleasure and honor to host such heroes,” Jiang Cheng said, nodding his head regally in return. He really had at some point learned how to fake being a competent and confident sect leader, and it might have even had the effect he was going for if it wasn’t for the small gaggle of children very eagerly stealing peeks from next to him – but Lan Wangji wasn’t going to be the one to tell on them. “I’ve heard many stories of your adventures, and I have long looked forward to meeting you in person. My Lotus Pier is open to you for as long as you require.”

“Sect Leader Jiang is upright and straightforward, well known for his righteousness,” Xiao Xingchen said, and perhaps only Lan Wangji knew precisely why Jiang Cheng flushed with such pleasure at a compliment more commonly applied to Nie Mingjue. “We are happy to be here as your guests.”

Jiang Cheng nodded a second time, still a little stiff and wooden. “You have traveled quite a distance. Are you tired or hungry..?”

They shook their heads in refusal.

Jiang Cheng darted a glance at Lan Wangji, then turned back to them, finally relaxing out of the excess formality that suited Jin Guangshan far more than it did Jian Cheng. “In that case,” he said, his voice a little dry. “Upon the suggestion of certain of my advisors, would you prefer to cut the boring small talk and go out on a night-hunt instead?”

Xiao Xingchen’s face split into a genuine smile, and even Song Zichen’s severity seemed a little eased.

“What an excellent idea, Sect Leader Jiang,” Xiao Xingchen said warmly. “We’d be happy to. I was just telling Song Zichen not long ago that it seemed as though we hadn’t been on a proper hunt in far too long.”

“You think you have problems, try being a sect leader,” Jiang Cheng replied impulsively, then turned red when he realized how rude he’d just been. “That is, I mean – well, there’s not nearly as much free time, that’s all.”

Xiao Xingchen laughed. It gave Lan Wangji a good impression of him: light-hearted and lively, his demeanor kind and good-humored. Despite the lack of blood relation, Lan Wangji was reminded of Wei Wuxian – although perhaps that was just his wistful thinking.

“Well, there’s a reason Zichen and I haven’t started our own just yet,” he said mischievously. “There’s time for that later, after all. Youth is when you make a name for yourself! And speaking of which, I’ve heard plenty about your own prowess, Sandu Shengshou. I admit I’m looking forward to seeing Zidian in action.”

Jiang Cheng looked unbearably pleased at the compliment, clearly sincerely meant, and something in Lan Wangji’s heart that he hadn’t even known was tense finally eased.

He hadn’t realized that he himself was nervous about this meeting – less for his own sake, although he burned with curiosity to learn everything he could about Wei Wuxian, than for Jiang Cheng, who had longed for this meeting so much, cared so much. Lan Wangji found to his bemusement that he had even been a little afraid: afraid that the two strangers would be cold or arrogant, afraid that they’d reject Jiang Cheng tentative overtures of friendship – that Jiang Cheng would be disappointed.

Lan Wangji might enjoy teasing Jiang Cheng into a frenzy, but that was his prerogative. In fact, one could argue that it was only what he was due for having lived with and put up with the man for so long. He’d been the one who’d been there all this time, the one who’d put in so much effort to help rebuild him back into the man he could be rather than the wreck he had been; he’d earned the right to mock him.  

No one else was entitled to so much as touch the hem of his robes.

“I have heard much of your matchless skill as well, Hanguang-jun,” Song Zichen said, his voice unexpectedly deep, and Lan Wangji’s attention came back to him as he returned the man’s salute. They both had reputations for being closed-mouthed ice-blocks, and it seemed to Lan Wangji that Song Zichen was probably just reserved, like him, rather than truly standoffish.

“You’re in for a treat, then,” Jiang Cheng said with a faint smirk. “Whether in sword or music, few can match Hanguang-jun’s talents, and he never stints on displaying them.”

To the untried ear, perhaps Jiang Cheng sounded bitter or jealous, and given his competitive mania he probably was, a little, but to Lan Wangji he sounded more smug than anything else, as proud as if he were the one being praised.

With everything settled, they headed off at once.

The subject of the night-hunt was nothing terribly exciting – a troop of fierce corpses ravaging the countryside that someone had finally managed to divine the location of, with the only interesting aspect about them being that they were unusually fast-moving – so there was plenty of time for them to talk as they followed the trail.

Lan Wangji expected Jiang Cheng to start asking questions about the immortal mountain and Wei Wuxian’s mother at once – Jiang Cheng might be prideful and thin-faced, prone to shame and overthinking, but he’d been raised along Wei Wuxian, who was second to none in shamelessness, and Lan Wangji was well aware of how much he hungered for that knowledge.

Of course, probably as a direct result of Lan Wangji’s expectations, Jiang Cheng went for a completely different target.

“It’s said that we live in an age of young heroes,” he remarked, seemingly casual. “Of course, for most of us, that was simply the inevitable result of war – crisis demands the best from people, regardless of age. Without such necessity to spur us onwards, most of us probably would’ve been still kicking our heels even now, whereas you two became heroes as soon as you arrived…how old are you now, again?”

“We are both twenty-one,” Song Zichen said, and Lan Wangji used the moment to glare over at Jiang Cheng when he mouthed six years at him – was this really the time to quibble over something as pointless as the exact age gap between them, which he’d clearly inquired about for no other purpose than to prove Lan Wangji’s earlier assumption wrong? This was Wei Wuxian’s martial uncle here! They should be getting all the information out of him that they could!

(Lan Wangji had long ago decided that when it came to feuding over minor matters with Jiang Cheng, he would be as gracious in defeat as his opponent…which was to say, not at all.)

Jiang Cheng smirked at him, knowing what he was thinking, but then – finally – turned the subject onto the immortal mountain, or more specifically its former disciples.

This time it was Song Zichen’s turn to relax minutely, Lan Wangji noticed. A moment’s thought revealed the reason: they’d probably feared cultivators asking questions that were far more pointed than what they were getting from them – cultivators greedy for the secrets of immortality. No wonder they so assiduously avoided being hosted by the Great Sects, and had done so even before Lanling Jin had gotten in the way of their heroism.

Well, luckily for them, the interest Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji had was a little more…down to earth.

“Cangse Sanren was a talent to shake the ages,” Xiao Xingchen said, his eyes bright and expression enthusiastic. “It was as if anything she turned her mind to, she excelled at, and she turned her mind to all sorts of things without discrimination – painting, poetry, swordsmanship…” He paused, then firmed his shoulders. “I heard that her son was much the same..?”

Lan Wangji felt a smile want to come up to his lips.

It seemed that Xiao Xingchen was just as interested in finding out more about his martial nephew as they were in finding out more about Wei Wuxian’s martial uncle.

Jiang Cheng glanced over at Lan Wangji, who nodded very shallowly, indicating his approval. In his judgment, both of them seemed safe enough: trustworthy, and not like people who would spread gossip.

They could talk about Wei Wuxian.

Talk truly about him, praising his good points and speaking fondly of his faults…these two, Lan Wangji thought, wouldn’t judge them harshly for failing to condemn him, and they wouldn’t tell anyone else, either.

Later, after they’d finished dispatching the ghouls – and the Wei Wuxian portion of the conversation, for which Jiang Cheng had taken the lead and which a listening Lan Wangji had enjoyed tremendously, largely on account of Xiao Xingchen’s genuine enthusiasm for learning everything he could about the martial nephew he had only just barely missed meeting, fearsome Yiling Patriarch or not – Jiang Cheng finally and regretfully brought them back to the original subject.

“I heard that you two are collecting allies to go after Xue Yang,” he said, and pretended (just as Lan Wangji did) to ignore the way Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen suddenly glanced at each other. “I’ll support that, of course. From everything I’ve heard, he’s become a mad dog, trying to bite anyone he sees. Hasn’t he been launching all sorts of raids on sects left and right these past few years?”

They nodded.

“Rather pointless ones,” Song Zichen said, a deep frown on his face. “He runs in and causes chaos, then flees into the night – he barely even stops to kill people, and almost never steals treasures. At most he goes to make trouble by defacing the walls of some of the ancestral tombs…we can see no sense in it. The only explanation is that his demonic cultivation has in fact driven him mad.”

Demonic cultivation didn’t necessarily drive a person mad. That was something Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng had painfully learned over the years, much to Jiang Cheng’s distress. However, it certainly didn’t help maintain calmness or peace of mind; there was every chance that a delinquent like Xue Yang had had his temperament worsened by demonic cultivation, leading to his present circumstances.

“Indeed,” Jiang Cheng said noncommittally. “I really have only question for you, then.”

Knowing where this was going, Lan Wangji turned his gaze on their guests’ expression.

“Haven’t you been chasing him on your own for all these years now, trying to get him to go to trial for his crimes, refusing any offers of help?” Jiang Cheng asked, his voice suddenly pointed. “Why the sudden change in favor of asking for help now?”

Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen shared another long look between them.

Finally, Xiao Xingchen cleared his throat. “In truth,” he said, “we spread that rumor as a smokescreen. We’re not looking for allies, generally speaking…we really only wanted a reason to ask for your help.”

Jiang Cheng stopped and stared, visibly surprised. Lan Wangji kept his expression more neutral, but privately he was just as taken aback; when they’d discussed this earlier, planning out this conversation in advance, that wasn’t even remotely one of the possibilities they’d considered.

“My help?” Jiang Cheng asked cautiously. “Or…?”

“Yours and Hanguang-jun,” Song Zichen said. “We weren’t sure who else to turn to.”

“What’s the issue?” Jiang Cheng asked, waving a hand to halt their forward progress. A good idea, in Lan Wangji’s view: it was the middle of the night, and they were in the middle of the forest in the back hills near the Lotus Pier, with no one around for a good distance except for trusted Jiang sect disciples – if there needed to be privacy for this discussion, this was the best place for it.

Another shared glance.

Lan Wangji slanted a glance of his own to Jiang Cheng, who returned it: they’d been right, there really was something unusual with this visit.

They stood in silence for a while.

Finally, Xiao Xingchen yielded. “Very well,” he said, and met Jiang Cheng’s eyes. “Sect Leader Jiang…can you tell us what you know about the Ghost General?”

Jiang Cheng stiffened, his fists clenching.

Lan Wangji’s heart felt just as stiff. He stepped forward.

“There are many people who can tell you about Wen Ning,” he said neutrally, watching them carefully. “Assuming that what you wish to know is how he fought or his transformation into a conscious fierce corpse. Is your concern that Xue Yang has replicated the technique and created his own ghost general?”

He didn’t think it would be that. As he’d said, everyone knew what Wen Ning had done once he’d become the Ghost General – the Jin sect would know far better than either of them how fearsome he was, since it was at Jinlin Tower that he had erupted in his final massacre. If they wanted to know about fierce corpses in general, they could go there.

To come here, to Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji – the only two people who were known to have gone up to the Yiling Burial Mounds while Wei Wuxian lived there with Wen Ning at his side, the only living people who knew what the Ghost General was like when he wasn’t being a weapon, to know what Wen Ning was like as a person – suggested something different.

Something impossible.

Xiao Xingchen met his eyes. “It is not.”

“Wen Ning was destroyed,” Jiang Cheng said, his voice tight and unsteady. “He murdered my brother-in-law, my nephew’s father, and when Lanling Jin demanded his head as retribution, he and his sister went to them under pretense of surrender and murdered even more of them before they were taken down. He was destroyed.”

They said nothing.

“The former Sect Leader Jin was very interested in demonic cultivation,” Lan Wangji said slowly. “While Wei Wuxian lived, he sought to claim the Stygian Tiger Seal. When he died…”

He glanced at Jiang Cheng a second time. They had not discussed the subject of the Siege of the Burial Mounds in any detail, as it inevitably put Jiang Cheng into a terrible frame of mind, and Lan Wangji remembered with a shudder the state they had both been in at that fateful meeting – he didn’t want to remember it himself, much less bring back bad memories for Jiang Cheng.

They certainly hadn’t discussed the subject of spoils. The only thing that had ever brought it to mind was the silent presence of Chenqing lying in place of pride in the Jiang sect’s memorial hall as the substitute for the memorial tablet they could not afford to raise for Wei Wuxian.

It hadn’t seemed relevant.

It was now.

“Sect Leader Jin took it,” Jiang Cheng confirmed, his voice shaking a little. “The Stygian Tiger Seal was broken in two, and Wei Wuxian destroyed one of the halves – the Jin sect claimed the other, saying that they were going to destroy it. I think they took more than that, too…I know they took Suibian, but they also took all the papers that’d been left in the cave. I always suspected that that was why they were so protective of Xue Yang, who was a demonic cultivator himself – that Jin Guangshan wanted to squeeze him for information, or maybe even use him to figure out some of Wei Wuxian’s notes…”

His voice trailed off, and he shook his head furiously.

“Wen Ning was destroyed,” he insisted. “The Jin sect scattered his ashes! They – they…”

“They lied,” Song Zichen said.

Lan Wangji pressed his lips together. He had no particularly warm feelings towards Wen Ning, who had been Wei Wuxian’s shadow in that last year or so of life when Wei Wuxian had turned his back on the world – a position Lan Wangji would have given his left arm to have, and over which he had had all sorts of inappropriate feelings of envy and stifled, unjustified possessiveness – but Jiang Cheng took the man’s existence far more personally.

In Jiang Cheng’s view, it had been for Wen Ning that Wei Wuxian had stolen the Wen sect remnants, for Wen Ning that Wei Wuxian had abjured his relationship with the Jiang sect and Jiang Cheng himself, for Wen Ning that Wei Wuxian had given up everything, and yet simultaneously it had also been Wen Ning that had pushed him to the very brink and over. Wen Ning who had murdered Jin Zixuan – Wen Ning who Wei Wuxian had so brutally avenged in the massacre at the Nightless City, at which Jiang Yanli had died.

Wen Ning, who they thought had been destroyed.

“We believe that the former Sect Leader Jin hid Wen Ning away instead of destroying him, then gave Xue Yang access to him, just as he did with the Tiger Seal and Wei Wuxian’s notes,” Xiao Xingchen said, his face solemn. “We also believe that Xue Yang took Wen Ning away with him when he escaped Jinlin Tower once the former sect leader died and the current sect leader took over. We believe that he has been controlling him through demonic cultivation, using him as something of an – accomplice, or something of the sort.”

“Controlling him how?” Jiang Cheng asked. They paused, and he continued, “I’m not stupid. You’re very sure that Wen Ning’s not gone, which means you located him and saw something that made you think so. What was it?”

Lan Wangji nodded shallowly, approving of Jiang Cheng’s deduction – and of the self-mastery he was demonstrating in not exploding in rage on the spot.

“He had nails in his head,” Xiao Xingchen said. “He…the Ghost General was mindless and unthinking, but strong. Very strong. He…”

He trailed off, and shook his head, seeming a bit sad.

“What help do you require from us?” Lan Wangji said, suddenly sick of the tension, and he saw Jiang Cheng throw him a look full of relief for having raised the question.

“Hanguang-jun is right,” Jiang Cheng said, backing him up at once. He crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you need us for? You two are heroes, and half the cultivation world would sell their firstborn child for a chance to bring down the Ghost General to increase their fame – there’s no way you came here just to get our help in bringing him down. If that’s what you wanted, it wouldn’t have needed to be us, and there wouldn’t have needed to be a smokescreen. What do you want?”

“We want to heal him,” Xiao Xingchen said solemnly. “To bring back his consciousness and return his sanity. But we don’t know what he was like, before Xue Yang. The only ones that do are the two of you.”

“You do remember that he killed my brother-in-law?” Jiang Cheng asked, his voice sharp.

“At Wei Wuxian’s order,” Song Zichen responded, equally sharp. “You do not blame the sword for the men it kills.”

Lan Wangji closed his eyes briefly, in pain at the reminder. He took a breath, steadying himself, and then another.

He opened his eyes.

“We will help,” he said, and ignored the betrayed look Jiang Cheng shot his way. They would talk about it later, and he would help Jiang Cheng see that this was what they had to do, no matter how painful. “And we will not betray the secret of his existence.”

“Thank you,” Xiao Xingchen said, and saluted deeply; Song Zichen did as well. “And yet, we have more we would ask of you.”

“Spit it out, then,” Jiang Cheng growled.

“Finding Wen Ning had shown us that Xue Yang’s actions have gone truly beyond the pale, beyond redemption,” Song Zichen said, and his voice was fierce. That wasn’t surprising: it had been his childhood home, his master and fellow disciples, that Xue Yang had attacked. “He is, as you said, a mad dog, biting all that he can – I believe that Wen Ning was his only companion as he fled, chased by the whole cultivation world these past few years. I fear what Xue Yang will do now that his last connection to humanity is gone. He is capable of anything.”

“We must find him,” Xiao Xingchen agreed. “We must find Xue Yang, and we must stop him from doing – whatever it is that he will do next. I cannot even begin to imagine the atrocities he might perpetrate. And so we must ask…”

“Fine,” Jiang Cheng said, and they both looked at him, surprised. “We’ll help you heal Wen Ning, and we’ll even help you hunt down Xue Yang. But this time, no excuses, no dragging your feet, no waiting for a proper trial, nothing like that. He dies, you hear me? Xue Yang is to be killed on sight!”

“I agree,” Lan Wangji said, folding his hands together behind his back. He had helped Jiang Cheng in pursuing and judging demonic cultivators before – there were those that could be granted mercy, and those for whom the only just answer was death; time and too many second chances had made inescapably clear that Xue Yang was the latter. “Each time you have sought to bring him to trial, he has taken advantage of your devotion to justice to escape.”

Xiao Xingchen looked at Song Zichen, who nodded firmly; a moment later, Xiao Xingchen sighed and nodded himself. “Agreed,” he said. “You will help us?”

“We will,” Jiang Cheng said grimly, and Lan Wangji nodded in full support. “It would be a pleasure to wipe that trash off the face of this earth.”

-

The town was full of mist and fog, choking the throat and making it hard to breathe or see; the feng shui of the entire valley was as bad as could be, and there was more miasma than there was air.

“You there, drunkard, what are you doing!” someone shouted at a figure lying halfway in the door of a house that was filled to the brim with coffins. “Don’t mock our livelihood! Just because it’s a coffin house doesn’t make it a good place to play dead!”

The figure stirred.

But I’m not playing dead, he thought, rubbing his aching head with one hand, noticing that he seemed to be missing his little finger. I actually was dead, wasn’t I?

Wei Wuxian opened his eyes.

#mdzs #lan wangji #jiang cheng #xiao xingchen #song lan #my fic #my fics #delight in misery

[bigbadredpanda]

Helloo, would it be a possible interpretation that the ideals and mindset that wwx follows is close to the religion and practice of Taoism?

Hello! That’s a fascinating question and I wish I had more knowledge to delve deeper on the subject but I’m a bit more familiar with the philosophy/spirituality part of Taoism than with its religious practices and rites. As always, anyone is welcome to add to the discussion or correct me if I misconstrue something, this is a vast topic and I’m just an interested layperson!

Xianxia in itself is a literary genre rife with references to Taoism: the pursuit of immortality, the internal alchemy to form a golden core, the Taoist exorcisms to drive out evil spirits, Taoist incantations and talismans, etc... But that does not necessarily make cultivators Taoists.

At the heart of Taoism is the philosophy of espousing harmony with nature, with the self, with the Tao. It’s about simplicity, spontaneity, non-attachment to worldly desires. In the introduction of my copy of the Zhuangzi (庄子), one of the main Taoist texts, the translator chooses the hero Yu the Great to epitomise the “going with the flow instead of fighting against the current” attitude dear to Taoists. Yu the Great is a legendary figure whose father, Kun, was tasked by the emperor Shun to protect the country from floods. Kun built barrages and dykes that held momentarily the waters in check but they ended up bursting, causing a flood even more devastating. The emperor banished Kun and entrusted the son, Yu the Great, with the same mission. Yu the Great succeeded by digging canals to help the course of water and let it flow to the sea. Yu the Great is referenced several times in the Zhuangzi and, interestingly, Wei Wuxian himself takes him as a model when he challenges Lan Qiren in the classroom and sows the seeds of what would become the foundation of his demonic cultivation:

魏无羡道：“横竖有些东西度化无用，何不加以利用？大禹治水亦知，堵为下策，疏为上策。镇压即为堵，岂非下策……”

Wei Wuxian said, “Anyway, there are some things that cannot be liberated so why not make use of them? Yu the Great who controlled the waters knew that building barrages to block was ineffective and dredging canals to reroute was the superior method. Suppression counts as blocking, wouldn’t is also be considered ineffective...” (ch.14)

The carefree and unfettered part of Wei Wuxian’s nature does fit Taoist ideals, you even have the opposition of the more Confucian-oriented Gusu Lan Sect and its rigid abidance with rules and ethics. However, Wei Wuxian is at odds with a key concept of Taoism: the principle of non-action (无为 wuwei). It’s not passivity or laziness, it’s letting nature runs its course, letting things fall into place. Wei Wuxian is very much shown to be assertive, even wilful, when his mind and heart are set on one thing. He does not hesitate to take matters into his own hands and jump into action. That’s especially true of his younger self who would rebel instead of do nothing, his older and wiser self after he is reborn is a bit more circumspect and knows when to speak out and when to hold his peace. Non-action is seen as the guiding principle of an ideal ruler, without the interference of government meddling, the state would (hypothetically) flourish on its own. I’ve seen some good meta on both the Chinese and the English-speaking sides of the fandom that makes good arguments that it’s actually Lan Xichen who personifies best this concept (x). Speaking of other characters from MDZS that parallel Taoist parables, Nie Huaisang reminds of the good-for-nothing tree which is praised by Zhuangzi. Because it bears no fruit, no one tore its branches to strip the fruits from them, because its wood is of poor quality, no carpenters cut it down. It is left alone and it is able to live long.

The Tao Te Ching (道德经, Daodejing) expounds three basic virtues called the Three Treasures (三宝): compassion (慈), frugality (俭) and humility (不敢为天下先, lit. ‘daring not to put oneself before others’ or ‘daring not to be first in the world’). The first two are for sure among Wei Wuxian’s qualities but the last one is more contentious, not because he is arrogant or boastful but because he dares setting himself apart. The following analysis in from a commentary of the Taoist text:

The third treasure, daring not be at the world's front, is the Taoist way to avoid premature death. To be at the world's front is to expose oneself, to render oneself vulnerable to the world's destructive forces, while to remain behind and to be humble is to allow oneself time to fully ripen and bear fruit. This is a treasure whose secret spring is the fear of losing one's life before one's time. This fear of death, out of a love for life, is indeed the key to Taoist wisdom. (Ellen M. Chen) 

Wei Wuxian did not hesitate to ‘expose himself’ by being willing to be the first practitioner of demonic cultivation and in the end his downfall was at the hands of ‘the world’s destructive forces’, warmongering rumours and bloodthirsty hostility. Wei Wuxian is also not subject to fear of death, there are a few quotes that exemplify his carefree, devil-may-care mindset:

使我徒有身后名不如即时一杯酒。

Better have a cup of wine here and now rather than leave behind a posthumous good name. (ch.75 & Wei Wuxian’s CQL character song Qu Jin Chen Qing)

The quotation above comes from A New Account of the Tales of the World (世说新语), a collection of various anecdotes that was compiled in the 5th century, fittingly it’s from the “The Free and Unrestrained” (任诞) section.

生前哪管身后事，浪得几日是几日。

Why care about what happens after death while one is alive? Better live life to the utmost while one can. (ch.16)

I’m not sure if this one is a literary citation or not as I haven’t been able to track down a quote with this exact wording but it was very reminiscent to me to a chapter of the Liezi (列子), another Taoist text, attributes the following thoughts to the hedonist philosopher Yang Zhu:

One hundred years is the limit of a long life. Not one in a thousand ever attains it. Suppose there is one such person. Infancy and feeble old age take almost half of his time. Rest during sleep at night and what is wasted during the waking hours in the daytime take almost half of that. Pain and sickness, sorrow and suffering, death (of relatives) and worry and fear take almost half of the rest. In the ten and some years that is left, I reckon, there is not one moment in which we can be happy, at ease without worry. This being the case, what is life for? What pleasure is there? For beauty and abundance, that is all. For music and sex, that is all. But the desire for beauty and abundance cannot always be satisfied, and music and sex cannot always be enjoyed. Besides, we are prohibited by punishment and exhorted by rewards, pushed by fame and checked by law. We busily strive for the empty praise which is only temporary, and seek extra glory that would come after death. Being alone ourselves, we pay great care to what our ears hear and what our eyes see, and are much concerned with what is right or wrong for our bodies and minds. Thus we lose the great happiness of the present and cannot give ourselves free rein for a single moment. What is the difference between that and many chains and double prisons?

"Men of great antiquity knew that life meant to be temporarily present and death meant to be temporarily away. Therefore they acted as they pleased and did not turn away from what they naturally desired. They would not give up what could amuse their own persons at the time. Therefore they were not exhorted by fame. They roamed as their nature directed and would not be at odds with anything. They did not care for a name after death and therefore punishment never touched them. They took no heed of fame, being ahead or being behind, or the span of life."

The myriad creatures are different in life but the same in death. In life they may be worthy or stupid, honorable or humble. This is where they differ. In death they all stink, rot, disintegrate, and disappear. This is where they are the same. [...] The man of virtue and the sage die; the wicked and the stupid also die. In life they were Yao and Shun [sage-emperors]; in death they are rotten bones. In life they were Jie and Zhou [wicked kings]; in death they are rotten bones. Thus they all became rotten bones just the same. Who knows their difference? Let us enjoy our present life. Why should we worry about what comes after death?” (A Source Book in Chinese Philosophy, trans. Wing-tsit Chan)

It’s quite a long extract so I highlighted the most relevant parts that echo Wei Wuxian’s ideas and in particular his motto in life:

是非在己，毁誉由人，得失不论 。

Right and wrong are decided by oneself, praise and condemnation depend on others, gains and losses are insignificant. (ch.75)

This is for me the defining quote of the novel that encapsulates the overarching theme of the story. This sentence is so popular that it’s the go-to quote on Wei Wuxian-related merch and it also features on the cover of the book in simplified Chinese.

We find in the Yang Zhu chapter of the Liezi the same ‘carpe diem’ attitude, the nonchalance about death, the disregard of social conventions and the futility of reputation. Nevertheless, Yang Zhu does not exactly have a place with other Taoist thinkers as he promotes acting in self-interest, a form of ethical egotism that does not take heed of other people’s benefit. The translator from the extract above calls it ‘negative Taoism’. As we are well aware, Wei Wuxian has a much more benevolent and altruistic outlook:

我娘说过的，你要记着别人对你的好，不要去记你对别人的好。人心里不要装那么多东西，这样才会快活自在。

My mom said that you should remember the kindness you received from others and not the kindness you gave. That's the only way to find happiness and be free as the heart can only carry so much. (ch.113)

Wei Wuxian’s life philosophy is about remembering the good you've been granted and keep giving without expecting anything in return. If you let yourself to be fettered by bad memories, if you dwell on the past, negative feelings like anger and envy will take roots in your heart. It takes great courage and integrity to be able to move on from painful experiences without holding grudges and retain the ability to greet the future with a smile.

These themes remind me of the lyrics of the song Enlightenment (悟) from the film Shaolin,《新少林寺》, it’s a moving song that draws a lot from Buddhist influences:

为何君视而不见 规矩定方圆

Why do you look without seeing and let conventions decide the rules?

悟性 悟觉 悟空 心甘情愿

I open my heart, coming to my senses and awakening to emptiness

放下 颠倒梦想 放下云烟

Let go of your confused dreams, let go of the things fleeting like mist

放下 空欲色 放下悬念

Let go of idleness, desire, pleasure, let go of the trouble weighting your heart

多一物 却添了 太多危险

One thing more adds too much danger

少一物 贪嗔痴 会少一点

One thing less and vices will be alleviated [lit. ‘greed, aversion, delusion’, the Three Poisons in Buddhism]

唯有 心无挂碍 成就大愿

Only with a heart without worries can your wishes be accomplished

唯有 心无故 妙不可言

There is no greater marvel than an unburdened heart

This ended up to be such a long-winded and maybe inconclusive answer but to me, Taoism, Buddhism and Confucianism, have all deeply shaped Chinese customs, ideas and culture with sometimes no clear boundaries where one begins and the other ends. Wei Wuxian’s ideals, his free-spiritedness and his probity, are reflected in these different schools of thoughts and spiritual currents but there is not a single all-encompassing one that matches him to a tee. In the end, what perhaps defines him best is his name that befits his nature, Wei Ying, the guileless innocence of a child, someone who can cheerfully go through life with a clear conscience and an unburdened heart.

#mo dao zu shi #cultural notes #philosophy #wei wuxian #majesticshayshay #i'm unable to quote anything from buddhist scripture but this is very good song #一世随缘，随缘一世，才能活得自在 #mdzs meta

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 21, second part

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff) (Previous Post)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Flute Solo

For some reason Wei Wuxian has decided to take a walk outside of the fortress, or behind the fortress, or something? Can people just take a stroll outside during wartime? Seems unwise.

There are guards and these extra-bossy crows herding some Wen prisoners along, and Wei Wuxian stands up above and gets totally overwhelmed by resentful energy.  

He falls to one knee while clutching his chest, in the spot where all cultivators seem to stow a bag of holding. I guess this is the Xuanwu sword? Or maybe it's his surgical incision; those things can take a while to finish healing. I think the golden core is further down in the abdomen, though; this is right over his heart. 

Wen Qing, Granny, and Fourth Uncle are in the group, but Wen Qing has her hood up so Wei Wuxian can't see her, and he's unlikely to remember the other two, since he only saw them that one time at the shrine, and he doesn't remember people he's literally had dinner with.  

The guards decide to be assholes and beat the shit out of a prisoner because he fell down, which inspires some extra aggressive crows to swoop in and attack the not-dead guy on the ground. That is...not how carrion-eaters behave, generally. They're pretty good about waiting for you to stop moving.

Wei Wuxian continues to struggle, obviously having an orgasm in a lot of pain, and starting to leak resentful energy.

(more after the cut)

He brings his flute up and starts playing it, which causes the wind to rise, rocks to fall from a nearby cliff, and the whole group of people on the ground under him to start having Yin Iron lines crawling up their faces.

Would Wen Qing be a beautiful fierce corpse? She would. 

Eventually Wei Wuxian stops torturing everybody, having gotten it out of his system for a bit, and stands up.  The group gets up, skin clearing up, and starts moving along again, a little shook. Wen Qing looks up and sees Wei Wuxian and hides her face in anguish.

She was there in the dungeon, listening to the same flute music, when he was resentfully slaughtering everyone around her in Yiling. Does she understand what she’s seeing, what he’s become? 

Her hood is off and it seems that he sees her, or at least that he is trying to figure out what he's seeing. But Jiang Yanli arrives before he can do more than look puzzled and cast his eyes around.  

Jiang Yanli asks him what just happened and he laughs and says it was the strong wind, in an extremely transparent lie that Yanli nearly chokes trying to swallow. She drags him back to the meeting while he continues to look troubled.

War Council

Meanwhile, the war council is meeting. This is mostly a boring rehash of stuff we already know, but someone has drawn a nice big map that's been installed in a custom frame. Because apparently the table with the mountains on it is not a good enough representation of "and then we will walk from our house to Wen Ruohan's house," which is basically their plan. The gist of this scene is that Wen Ruohan having the Yin Iron gives him an advantage, in case we needed to be reminded of that. 

The doors fly open and Wei Wuxian and his fabulous ass literally blow into the room. 

Everyone reacts in a comically extreme way. 

He casts his eyes malevolently and/or sexily over to Lan Wangji, who is still grumpy with him, while Jiang Cheng comes up and stands almost as close to him as Lan Wangji used to.

He tells everybody that he might have something to counteract the yin iron.

Everybody: Really? Do tell!  

Wei Wuxian: Happy to!

Wei Wuxian: *theatrical side-eye at judgy ex boyfriend* 

Wei Wuxian: Actually, nope.

He says "we'll see in about a month" while fondling whatever is hidden next to his ribcage.

This behavior, while ridiculous, isn't quite as absurd as it seems from a corporate-meeting standpoint. Part of what cultivators do is invent and refine spiritual tools. So when Wei Wuxian makes this speech, the people in the meeting are going to infer that he is creating a spiritual tool to counter the Yin Iron.

Now it's Lan Xichen's turn to ask everybody’s favorite question. Lan Xichen wasn’t at the party when everyone else asked him, and we're apparently supposed to believe these gossips haven't been talking about the not-sword-carrying 24x7.

Wei Wuxian says he's just not in the mood, and we get to see Lan Xichen's impressive ability to hold his face completely still while he represses his desire to slap someone.

Jin Zixun complains about Wei Wuxian after he leaves, but for once his bitching is on point; he correctly surmises that the counter to yin iron is...yin iron. 

Now, to be fair, the yin tiger amulet is different from the yin iron because it exists in the novel Wei Wuxian specially refines it to be more manageable than the sword it started from. And maybe it’s gel coated to be easier on the stomach. But it's basically the same shit.

Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue exchange intense gazes, just to prove that the young people aren’t the only ones who know how to eye fuck. 

Lying Is Forbidden 

Lan Xichen talks to Lan Wangji, and we discover that Lan Wangji is perfectly capable of lying. He manages to maintain a reputation for not lying but I think the trick is that he just avoids talking in general, so when, for example, people in later years say "who's your masked boyfriend" he just doesn't answer, which isn't really lying. (How many times did Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen ask “where did you get this kid?” and just not get an answer, I wonder.) 

At other times he actually directly lies, as when he claims he is “just passing through” Yiling on a night hunt. The current conversation with Lan Xichen definitely involves actual lying.

Let's play multiple choice answers with the Lan brothers!

Q:  Why is WWX so confident we can have Yin Iron against WRH in a month? 

a.) Because he's been walking around with that Xuanwu sword for months, and it is obviously made of Yin iron b.) because he used a fucking ghost flute to flay Wen Chao more or less in front of me, so he is clearly down with some dark magics c.) I don’t know

Q: Was the death of people in the Yiling supervisory office really related to yin iron?

a.) obviously b.) maybe he was using some other source of overwhelming necromantic power c.) no, he’s not like that

Q. When you approached Yiling, was there anything unusual?

a.) yes, the talismans had been altered to draw in evil spirits b.) yes, everyone except his particular friend Wen Qing had killed themselves in horrifying, outlandish ways c.) are there rules already set for everything in the world?

Xichen, bless him, actually lets Lan Wangji change the subject like that and answers his question honestly.

Xichen: Actually, rules are pretty much shit Wangji: fucking hell, you're telling me this NOW? What have I been doing for the past 18 years then?

They both look just ridiculously beautiful in this conversation. Lan Wangji’s affect with his brother is so interesting. He’s trusting, emotionally open, willing to be seen...but only because he knows Lan Xichen won’t push past his barriers, won’t force him to speak the truth of what’s on his mind.

Awkwardness

The Yunmeng bros roll up, and awkwardness ensues. 

Wangji is frowning hard. His frowns are of the micro variety just like his smiles, but boy they are consistent and Wei Wuxian and Xichen both know how to read them.

Wei Wuxian gives Lan Xichen a small, sunny smile--it seems genuine, not like the fake ones he's trotting out on demand for his family. 

Then he gives Lan Wangji a pointed gaze of yearning and reproachfulness, which Lan Wangji returns, switching from frowning to a softer expression that seems about equal parts hurt, apology, and thirst.

Wei Wuxian reacts to that by bowing again and leaving, with Jiang Cheng quickly following, wondering what the fuck just happened.

Lans Xichen and Wangji pivot gracefully to watch them go, which Lan Wangji should know is not correct post-breakup behavior; you're supposed to act disinterested, my dude. 

And then Lan Xichen asks Lan Wangji what the fuck is going on. Lan Wangji gets one more lie in, saying he's not worried about Wei Wuxian, before reapplying his frown and walking away from the conversation.

Macroexpression Brothers

OP was wrong about Wei Wuxian not hugging Jiang Cheng any more--here he is hanging on him just like the old days, and Jiang Cheng is shoving him off, just like the old days. However, it emerges that this is mostly an act that WWX is putting on to seem normal. 

Jiang Cheng wants to know what's wrong between him and Lan Wangji, and asks why they broke up. Wei Wuxian points out that Jiang Cheng didn't like him dating Lan Wangji before, so why is he pushing him to get back together with him now, and Jiang Cheng says that now they're allies in a war, so Wei Wuxian needs to do his duty and help keep Lan Wangji in fighting trim, nudge nudge. 

Then he starts lecturing Wei Wuxian about sword cultivation and generally good behavior, and Wei Wuxian theatrically nods and give him appraising looks, telling him he really seems like a clan leader now.

Jiang Cheng headshakes this away. Wei Wuxian actually giving Jiang Cheng a sincere compliment here, disguised as teasing, and he's not wrong. Jiang Cheng has matured and is becoming a strong leader. Not strong enough to ignore peer pressure, but that’s true of most clan leaders in this environment. They’re not supposed to ignore peer pressure. 

Wei Wuxian is pointing it out for his own reasons - he doesn't want to be having this conversation - but it's nice to see him giving his clan leader his due.

Jiang Cheng walks away as Wei Wuxian smiles after him; as soon as he's out of sight the smile falls off of Wei Wuxian's face as fast as fast as gravity can take it. It's like someone snuffed a candle.

No one bites back as hard On their anger None of my pain and woe Can show through

But my dreams, they aren't as empty As my conscience seems to be I have hours, only lonely My love is vengeance that's never free

More Awkwardness

Lan Wangji and his ambivalence come looking for Wei Wuxian, standing outside his door and raising a hand to knock before changing his mind and fleeing. 

Lan Wangji is on the back foot for the first time in his relationship with Wei Wuxian; this boy who pursued and pursued and PURSUED him is now a man who won't speak to him.  This boy who hung on every one of his words, and saw through all of his minute facial expressions, has become a man who won't listen to him. Lan Wangji is in the position of pursuer, now, and it's not a role he's well equipped for.

Yanli stops him as he's bailing. He looks so relieved to see her, but he tries to escape immediately after greeting her. She stops him so she can ask what the fuck is going on. 

Unfortunately, Wei Wuxian rolls up while Lan Wangji is in the middle of talking to her.  He's telling her about the heterodox cultivation, and Wei Wuxian busts him. Wei Wuxian steps up and asks what he was telling her, and Lan Wangji says "Wei Ying," but doesn't get much further than that.

Nunya

Wei Wuxian reminds him that he told him to stay out of Jiang Clan business. Now, here I want to mention that "private" and "not your bidness" are culturally specific concepts. OP, for example, grew up in version of Irish-American culture so secretive that the problems of a person's life and (often) the cause of their death are things only discovered by whoever inherits their papers. [OP inherited 3 generations of letters a few years ago, and HOO BOY]

In the version of Chinese culture which we see in this drama, your choices, thoughts & troubles belong to the family and clan, not just to you.  Wei Wuxian, in shutting his elder sister out of his struggles, is not family-ing correctly. Jiang Yanli is right to try to get around that by asking his friend. His friend is also right to give her--in sanitized form--the information she is asking for. 

Wei Wuxian has zero trust in Lan Wangji at this point, unfortunately. He doesn’t know that Lan Wangji has been lying to cover for him; he just knows he’s being a grumpy aggressive holy roller. Now, when Lan Wangji has just been given permission to disregard all 3000 rules and look at a person’s heart, that person’s heart has been hardened against him. 

Yanli is used to dealing with Wei Wuxian's moods at this point -- after all, a lifetime of Jiang Cheng has got her used to volatile little brothers, and Wei Wuxian is clearly a new, not-improved man since his return. 

She tries to get him to chill out while Lan Wangji gives him a death glare -- not a return to the earlier generalized frown, more of a specific "I can't believe how full of shit you are" frown.

Wei Wuxian calls him Lan Er Gongzi, like a dick. Lan Wangji started this but at this point Wei Wuxian is kind of in the lead for who is being The Worst. Lan Wangji executes a beautiful 180 and walks away at top speed. 

Wei Wuxian asks Yanli if he talked about Yiling and when she says he didn't, he realizes he fucked up. 

He goes running after him and calls him Lan Zhan and says "listen to me" but Lan Wangji is no longer in a listening mood. 

Eat A Dick Sword

Lan Wangji is so far in his feelings at this point that he just hauls out his sword and goes after Wei Wuxian, taking complete control of the interaction and forcing Wei Wuxian to concede the fight. Aww, he’s so angry! I love him. 

This is a rough moment for Wei Wuxian. He really genuinely can't hold his own against Lan Wangji, unless he's going to directly use necromancy against him the way he does later in their final confrontation. 

When they first met he was able to defend himself on the rooftop without drawing his sword, but he's weaker now; Chenqing is an adequate hand weapon against most cultivators and puppets, but it's not a match for Lan Wangji's full attack. 

Wei Wuxian is not enjoying this fight, and can’t win in, so he just throws in the towel, exposing his throat and trusting Lan Wangji's control.

On the surface, this fight appears to re-establish their former rapport, but it puts them on such an uneven footing it might actually drive a larger wedge between them.  I think that Lan Wangji has made a strategic error in doing this.  

Lan Wangji seems to want to prove to Wei Wuxian that his new style of cultivation is inadequate, that he would do better with a sword. Swordplay was the beginning of their relationship; their matched power was the source of their mutual attraction. Lan Wangji can't accept that Wei Wuxian has given it up; he doesn't (yet) respect his agency enough to assume that he has a good reason.

This fight functions as yet another punishment that Lan Wangji doles out to Wei Wuxian; not a physical one, this time, but a psychological one, and their relationship pays the price. 

By attacking Wei Wuxian and forcing him to concede, Lan Wangji is showing that they're unequal. By criticizing Wei Wuxian's lack of progress and asking him the same goddamn question everybody else is asking him -- where is your sword? -- Lan Wangji is humiliating him. 

This encounter does not re-establish Wei Wuxian’s trust in him; it just forces him to accept Lan Wangji’s authority, for now. Which is not what either of them really wants. 

Soundtrack: Behind Blue Eyes, by The Who

Writing Prompt: What would Wei Wuxian have said if Lan Wangji had listened to him instead of drawing his sword?

#the untamed #the untamed gifs #wangxian #the untamed meta #cql #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #my gifs #2810 word count

[ibijau]

Futures past pt19 / on AO3

As music lessons resume, Lan Xichen has a suggestion for Nie Huaisang

Nie Huaisang cheerfully knocked on the door, ready for his first music lesson of the year, only to be met by a decidedly grumpy Lan Xichen. The other boy tried to smile at him, tried to make conversation as usual and to ask how much he’d practiced that week, but Nie Huaisang wasn’t fooled.

“So, what’s wrong?” he asked as he set up his guqin, a little proud to show off again that he had his own instrument now. “You look so dejected that I could mistake you for your brother.”

“Let’s not talk about Wangji right now,” Lan Xichen replied, his expression turning sour. 

Now he looked like his uncle, though Nie Huaisang was too polite to say as much. It was really strange to see him so upset, and a little worrying as well, but Lan Xichen did not give him the chance to ask any questions.

“I’ve been thinking a lot while you were gone,” Lan Xichen announced with a fake smile that wasn’t fooling anyone, “and I think your level is good enough to start teaching you something a little more advanced. Shufu has given me permission to give you an introduction to some techniques we use for musical cultivation, if that interests you.”

Nie Huaisang gasped at the news.

“Really? You mean, real musical cultivation?” he asked excitedly. “The real deal? Like… like battle songs? Healing songs? You think I’m good enough?”

His earlier bad mood quickly melting away, Lan Xichen smiled warmly and came to sit next to Nie Huaisang.

“I think you’re very skilled, yes,” he said, making Nie Huaisang flush at the praise, “though it’ll be a while until you can use musical techniques in a Night Hunt. But since we have this entire year before us, I thought you could try to learn Inquiry.”

“Really?”

To confirm it, Lan Xichen merely handed Nie Huaisang a musical score, one he appeared to have copied himself. Nie Huaisang took it with trembling hands, awed to be trusted in that manner.

“The song itself is not particularly complex,” Lan Xichen explained as Nie Huaisang looked over the score, “and it can be learned and used even by someone of ordinary cultivation level. The real difficulty, and what is going to take us a while, is the Qin language needed to understand the answers given by spirits.”

His eyes still on the sheet of music, Nie Huaisang just nodded. Then, realising what he’d just heard, he looked up and stared at Lan Xichen with wide, shocked eyes.

“Isn’t that a secret Lan technique?”

“I'm not sure about 'secret' but it is an exclusive technique,” Lan Xichen confirmed, his expression turning more serious. “That’s why I had to ask for shufu’s permission before I could offer to teach you. I won’t hide that he was reluctant,” he added with a strained smile. “But I told him that I fully trust you to respect our secrets.”

Hands clenched on the music sheet, Nie Huaisang hurriedly nodded again. He couldn’t think of a bigger honour done to him. He’d never have dared to ask to be taught any Lan secret techniques, but since it was offered he would do his best to be worthy of it, and to show proper respect and gratitude.

“I also told him that having a goal of your own seemed to help you in your studies last year,” Lan Xichen added, “and that this might help you do better in your exams by giving you better motivation.”

However pleased he was that Lan Xichen would trust him, and with something that important, the reminder of his failure to do well in class made Nie Huaisang grimace, and instantly reduced his enthusiasm. “Does it mean the music lessons will be dependent on the grades I get in regular classes?”

“It’s possible that shufu came to that conclusion,” Lan Xichen replied with a mischievous smile. “But I never actually said that, and your grades are of no concern to me. I just like teaching you”

“Xichen-gege, you’re so crafty!” Nie Huaisang laughed. “Who knew you were capable of that! You’re the best, you know? I like when you teach me, too. I’ll try to be as good a student as you are a teacher!”

“I’m pleased you’d think so well of me,” Lan Xichen said, his cheeks turning a little pink. “Now, let’s get to work. I think for today, we’re just going to focus on the song itself. Then next week, if you are comfortable enough playing it, I can show you how to infuse it with your spiritual energy to have the right effect, and we can start learning Qin language.”

It sounded like a great plan, and one Nie Huaisang wholeheartedly agreed to.

Just as Lan Xichen promised, the song itself was not particularly challenging, and short enough that Nie Huaisang had good hopes of quickly learning it by heart if he just put his mind to it. He’d try to be careful not to practice it around the other Nie disciples, since it was a Lan technique, but he’d still work hard on it, and… maybe that might turn Night Hunts into something interesting at last. It should certainly make Nie Mingjue happy if his brother finally became interested in those, even if he had to use another sect’s method for it. 

It opened a world of possibilities, and Nie Huaisang promised himself to practice hard to make this happen, so both his brother and Lan Xichen would be proud of him. Or at least, as hard as he was capable, especially with all that he had to do that year. 

That would come later. The lesson having reached its conclusion for the day, Lan Xichen served tea for both of them, and offered some candies to celebrate the start of a new year of learning. By then, Lan Xichen’s mood appeared to have improved a great deal, and Nie Huaisang decided it would be fine to start the first phase of his great plan. 

"So, Xichen-gege, what do you think of this year's students?" Nie Huaisang asked innocently while grabbing some candies.

Lan Xichen's expression turned sour for a brief moment, before he got himself back under control and smiled again. 

"They are an interesting lot, certainly," he said without enthusiasm. "Are you making friends this time?" 

After taking a quick sip of tea, Nie Huaisang nodded, grinning.

"Gege, you won't believe it, but even last year I made a friend!” he announced. “Apparently, Zixun thinks I'm really cool and told his cousin about me!"

It was still really funny to him, and judging by his surprised expression, Lan Xichen hadn’t expected that either.

"Then Jin Zixun has better tastes than I expected,” Lan Xichen said with some hesitation, “and I must reconsider my opinion of him." 

"Well, me too! But I am making friends this year too, and they're nicer about it than Zixun was. Have you met Wei Wuxian yet?" 

Stopping short of drinking some tea, Lan Xichen's smile wavered. He froze for a second, and put down his glass again.

"I have,” Lan Xichen said in a tone of voice that made it plain the encounter had brought him little joy. “Jiang Cheng… I mean, Jiang gongzi came to greet me on his second day here, and Wei gongzi was with him. I suppose he was polite enough with me."

Nie Huaisang laughed at seeing him struggle to find something nice to say.

"But he upset your uncle and you don't like that."

That was all the encouragement Lan Xichen needed to allow his expression to turn into anger, which Nie Huaisang found very funny.

"He was extremely rude to shufu,” Lan Xichen complained. “It’s very unfortunate that he should show so little respect to a teacher. He's also determined to pester poor Wangji, who isn't used to being treated like that!” He paused, taking a deep breath to compose himself, but didn’t manage to put on a smile again. “Huaisang, since you're his friend, do you think you might tell him to leave Wangji alone?"

All of Nie Huaisang’s amusement quickly dissipated at that demand and he frowned.

"Well that's a problem! You really dislike him that much?"

Lan Xichen fell silent for a moment. Nie Huaisang found it more worrying than if he’d answered right away. A little anger at a misbehaving student was one thing, but he’d talked enough with Lan Xichen to recognise those moments when he was trying hard to be fair to someone he didn’t particularly like. He used to make the same face when talking about Su She, back before he started warming up to him.

"He doesn't seem like a bad person,” Lan Xichen said at last, “and he hasn't done anything to me, so I cannot dislike him. I am just worried for Wangji, who isn’t very good at dealing with people." 

"That's really inconvenient,” Nie Huaisang sighed. “Xichen-gege, I was really hoping you'd help me help them to become friends! It would have been a lot of fun, the two of us scheming together…” he sighed again. “Oh, well. I'll see if I can get Jiang-xiong or Su-xiong instead. I don’t want to involve you in something you’d find upsetting."

"I think the fact you’d want such a thing is already upsetting me a little,” Lan Xichen replied. “Is it even possible for them to be friends? They are… very different."

Nie Huaisang gave that a moment of consideration before shrugging.

"I guess. But we're pretty different too, and we didn't start off so well either, and look at us now! If it worked for us, it can work for them! I’m sure they can become good friends like us!" 

A spot or pink appeared on Lan Xichen's cheeks, but his expression remained conflicted. 

"I think it's different. Their first meeting was a fight."

Nie Huaisang could only laugh.

"And I ran away from you when you tried to chat!” he pointed out, grabbing another candy which he pushed toward Lan Xichen. “Anyway, wouldn't it be good for Wangji to have friends? He's too serious. It's not healthy for a boy his age to be so serious. As his elders, we need to make sure he doesn't get lonely." 

"you're barely a year older than him," Lan Xichen remarked, fighting a smile as he took the candy. "I'm not sure you have much claim as an elder." 

One hand on his heart, Nie Huaisang faked an offended expression which made Lan Xichen chuckle.

"I am an elder!” he protested theatrically. “I am wiser in the way of the world, so it is my duty to guide these children. Wei Wuxian too!” he added, a touch more seriously. “I think he was impressed by Wangji, you know. Jiang-xiong says that it's unheard of for him to find someone he can't beat.” He paused, and considered that. “Jiang-xiong also says he kind of hopes that Wei-xiong gets his ass kicked very hard, so it teaches him humility. And Meng-xiong didn't say anything, but he did nod."

Lan Xichen grinned.

"I do get the sensation that people tend to be as irritated by him as they are endeared. And I suppose… Wangji too was impressed by Wei gongzi's skill. Mostly he said it was quite upsetting that such talent should belong to a person with such poor manners."

Nie Huaisang smiled at that most encouraging news.

"There! If Wangji is complimenting him, then they need to be friends!" he exclaimed, making Lan Xichen laugh hard enough that he felt the need to hide it behind his sleeve.

"That's hardly a compliment."

"Coming from Wangji, it is."

That got another laugh out of Lan Xichen, which he quickly got under control and attempted to replace by a more severe expression. It might have worked, if his eyes had not been shining with barely repressed mirth. 

"Wangji is not nearly as bad as you seem to think,” Lan Xichen said. “He's just very shy, and being distant is the way he deals with it. Not everyone can be as bold and determined to collect friends as you are, Huaisang." 

"I'm not sure how to take that." 

"Coming from any other Lan, it might be an insult,” Lan Xichen admitted. “Coming from me, and to you, it's probably a compliment." 

Nie Huaisang grinned, delighted to be teased like that. How had he ever thought that Lan Xichen was boring? Maybe his future self was right about him not being too bright. But then again, wasn't it easy to make that sort of judgement in hindsight? Lan Xichen was fun now, but it had taken time for his smiles to gain real warmth when they were together. It had been time well invested though, and realising that made him hopeful that this business between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian might turn out fine. Maybe they too would get to have that sort of comfortable relationship someday.

More comfortable, even, since they were to fall in love someday. It was going to be so funny to see how Lan Wangji acted when he was in love.

After this, the two boys fell silent for a moment as they finished their tea. It was getting a little late, and Nie Huaisang knew that he would soon have to leave. It made him almost wish that Lan Qiren had already given them homework, so he’d have an excuse to stay a little longer by whining that he always worked better when he was with Lan Xichen. Or else, he might have offered to help copy some scroll or other for Lan Xichen’s great secret project. Anything at all so he wouldn’t have to go. After almost a whole winter apart, he just wanted to be in his friend’s company a little more, just a tiny bit more, even if he knew they were sure to have time together again the week after.

Then, just as Nie Huaisang was trying to accept that he couldn’t find a good excuse to stay, Lan Xichen spoke again.

"If we do help Wangji and Wei-gongzi become friends,” he said, “and that's still an 'if' on my part, the main issue will be to make them understand they both want to be friends. Wangji seems to think Wei-gongzi only exists to torment him, and despairs to see again his more positive qualities."

Excited both for the excuse to chat a little more and by the fact that Lan Xichen was falling to his side, Nie Huaisang nodded.

"Wei-xiong is convinced Wangji is giving him the cold shoulder in spite of his efforts to become friends,” he replied. “He’s not used to people not fawning over him, I fear. Xichen-gege, we're gonna have to work hard!" 

"It would take effort,” Lan Xichen agreed. “I can see you're very excited about this little project, but don't let it get in the way of your studies."

Nie Huaisang dismissed that worry with a hand gesture.

"Don't worry! I'll practice the guqin every day no matter what!"

That answer made Lan Xichen laugh.

"I meant your actual studies, Huaisang,” he corrected, trying to sound scolding but too obviously amused to be scary at all. “The lectures? With my uncle? You do remember that's why you're here in the first place?" 

Blushing a little at his blunder, Nie Huaisang shrugged.

"Oh, that. I'll deal with that,” he said with more confidence than he felt. “At worst, I'll just come again a third year. Wouldn't that be fun? We'd get even more time together!" 

"I'm not sure shufu would be thrilled,” Lan Xichen pointed out. “But I would certainly be happy to have you around as long as you want. And… of course, you'd get more time with Su She as well. Apparently you've even told your brother about him?"

If he hadn’t been in such good humour upon hearing that Lan Xichen enjoyed his company that much, Nie Huaisang might have noticed that the other boy’s expression became a little more pained when he mentioned Su She. But he was in too good a mood to be observant.

"Of course. It fell through last year because I didn't plan it enough in advance and my grades were bad,” he explained, “but this year, I absolutely want to invite Su-xiong home with me when I go back, even if I don't pass! I think we'll have a lot of fun, and da-ge can't ground me if I have a guest to entertain!"

Lan Xichen's smile turned strained again, nearly as much as when Nie Huaisang first arrived to see him. 

"How cunning of you. I'm sure you'll have great fun. I could try to steal your brother for a Night Hunt, so you and Su She can have some peace." 

It was a very generous offer, and Nie Huaisang gave it all the consideration it deserved.

"No, I think if you make it all the way to Qinghe, I'll want to keep you around too,” he announced. “Xichen-gege, even though you've come a few times, we weren’t friends back then so I've never really shown you my birds, right? And we could go painting all three of us… wait, Su-xiong isn't that fond of painting!” he remembered, hitting his forehead. “So it won’t do. Then… let's dump him with da-ge for a bit, so they can get all excited together about fighting and cultivation, and I'll steal you away! Oh there's this gorgeous little spot from where you can see the mountains at a wonderful angle… I've always wanted to show it to someone, and I think you're really someone who would know how to appreciate it. Will you go there with me next time you visit us, Xichen-gege?"

Lan Xichen tried to smile, his face a little pinker than usual.

"Wouldn't you rather take Su She, if you like it so much?"

Nie Huaisang considered that, too, before shaking his head.

"There are other places I can show him. That one, I really want to show you."

Looking definitely quite pink now, Lan Xichen smiled.

"Then I will gladly accompany you. If you like it so much, it must be very beautiful indeed, and I can’t wait to see it." 

"Xichen-gege is too kind,” Nie Huaisang replied, delighted by that new plan. “Really too kind. And in his great kindness, will he help me give Wangji a friend?" 

"You’re just as stubborn as your brother,” Lan Xichen accused, his good mood fully returned. “We'll see. I need to see a little more of this Wei Wuxian before I decide. But if I find him to be a good person, and if I am given reasons to think he’ll be good for Wangji, then yes, I will help." 

It wasn't unfair to worry about that, especially when Lan Xichen didn't have a messenger from the future to tell him that Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were pretty much soulmates. Indeed, without that information, Nie Huaisang would never have guessed that Lan Wangji's cold anger might have hidden any other sort of tender feelings. That was why Nie Huaisang really needed Lan Xichen's help, he was the only person in the world who could understand his brother. 

Since he needed Lan Xichen's assistance so badly, Nie Huaisang wondered if he should maybe not ask Wei Wuxian to help him cheat in the next test. But he had already done his part of the deal in that regards, so it would be very upsetting to have copied all those boring texts for nothing. Besides, it would probably be fine. 

There was no way they'd be caught, right? 

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #double time travel

[realtacuardach]

On Ice

Figure Skating AU for Obiyuki Bingo 21!

(Special thanks for @sabraeal , @bubblesthemonsterartist , @ruleofexception , and youlee on the Obiyuki Discord for help with the music!)

~~~

Stepping onto the ice, Shirayuki felt herself leaving her troubles behind to stay, as they always did, on the benches behind the plexiglass. Her breath gusted out from her mouth, trailing behind as she glided to the center of the silent rink. She reached above her head, feeling her shoulders pop satisfyingly, before craning her head back to release the tension in her neck. Nothing could release all the tension she was feeling at the moment, but it definitely helped - somewhat.

She took another deep breath, bent her knee so that one leg stretched out behind her while the other took most of her weight - and pushed off.

The ice rink was a lot quieter now than it was in the middle of the day, the Olympic-quality rinks hosting times for ice hockey players, speed skaters, and ice dancers. It got even louder when the rink opened up for the public - those of the public who could afford it, anyway - because the director through that cultivating public support opened the rink up for more interest in the sports programs, a greater influx of talent that he could presumably snap up, and, of course, more merchandising opportunities.

Izana certainly likes to keep a finger on the pulse of everything, Shirayuki thought to herself, and choked a little on the foreign bitterness intermingling with the observation. Usually, it bemused her more than anything else, but today…

She tried to push the thought away as she finished one lap and started another, picking up speed. Cold air streamed more and more quickly past her face as she rounded the rink, making her eyes water, which at least gave her something to focus on.

I shouldn’t be surprised, I should have seen this coming, she thought, the cold and stinging eyes not powerful enough to slow down her mind. She slowed to a stop, realization dawning as she began to feel the burn in her calves. No, I’m not surprised, it’s what I expected.

Somehow, that only made her feel worse.

Shirayuki huddled down, resting her hips against the scuffed ice, her arms wrapped around her knees, the old insulated pants crinkling in a familiar way that soothed her, just a little bit.

Really, she should just be grateful that Zen wasn’t more hurt. He’d been lucky that she’d been watching the last-minute scrimmage he and his team had put on after hockey practice, before their paired skating practice. It could have been a lot worse.

She exhaled heavily, squeezing her face more tightly into her knee.

“All right there, Twirls?”

Shirayuki looked up and craned her head towards the sound. The side doors for the storage area for the Zamboni were open, and she saw the familiar form of Obi leaning against the machine.

She would have preferred to have been alone with her thoughts, but if anyone was to find her, she was glad it was him. She blinked away the traitorous moisture, put on her brightest smile, and nodded briskly. “No.”

Shirayuki cursed. She could never lie to him.

Even from across the rink, she could see his eyebrow arch, stretching the old scar above his eye. He straightened up a little, all his muscles at attention despite his deceptively languid stance. “Seem a little undecided there, Twirls.”

“I just got back from the hospital.””

“Yeah?” Obi responded. “How’s Ace doing? I’ve never seen Coach turn that shade of red before.”

Mitsuhide took a lot of things in stride, but there were two things that he absolutely did not. Like a proper Canadian transplant, the preservation and promotion of hockey was paramount to him. One did not mess with his hockey team and escape unscathed.

The other thing was Zen - his safety and well-being, not only as his friend but also as his star player, was also paramount.

So Zen taking a chance during the scrimmage to use one of his most acrobatic aerial leaps to soar over the other team (ostensibly intending to steal the puck and score a goal rather than slamming into the side of the rink and significantly spraining his ankle) had definitely...elicited a reaction from Mitsuhide.

He had vacillated between panic (“Are you okay, Zen? Can you stand? Is it broken, Shirayuki?”) and rage (You idiot! We were ahead by three goals. And this was practice!”)

Mitsuhide practically frothing at the mouth had unnerved most of the hockey players, so Shirayuki was grateful that Kiki had skated forward, shucking her gloves off to help stabilize Zen’s ankle as she splinted it before grabbing Mitsuhide by the back of his jersey and forcibly escorting him off the rink when he would not stop hovering.

(If it had been a less serious moment, Shirayuki would have laughed at the new redness burning the top of Mitsuhide’s ears as he was behind held by the third thing he had difficulty taking in stride.)

“Doctor says he’ll make a full recovery.”

“No doubt,” Obi grinned, walking smoothly towards her. “Between Coach’s mother-henning and your splinting skills, he didn’t have much time for it to get serious.”

The compliment glowed warm and low in her chest, but then it was overwhelmed by the cold feeling she got as she remembered what happened after Zen’s surgery. She fought back tears, hoping Obi wouldn’t notice.

He did.

“Twirls?”

She would have given everything to respond to him, but she didn’t trust her voice.

Obi sat down beside her, and she felt his arm move across her shoulders before squeezing them reassuringly. She leaned her head onto his chest, feeling the embroidery of his name push against her cheek, grounding her as his chest rose beneath her. A breath shuddered out.

“He’s going to be okay.” Deep breath in, deep breath out. “But Izana says he can’t do both ice skating and hockey any more.”

“Oh.” He rubbed her shoulder. “Well, that’s a shame, Twirls, but it does make sense. This isn’t a Disney Channel movie, he can’t do both at the same time forever. That’s a lot of strain for the ankle to take, even for a paragon like Ace. But he can still play scrimmages and stuff sometimes, right? Boss can’t expect him to just quit hockey completely-”

“He chose hockey.”

The soothing rubbing stopped. “What?”

Shirayuki cleaned her throat again, shuddered. “He chose hockey.”

The hand on her shoulder didn’t move, but she feel his muscles tensing, and she opened her eyes to see his other hand clenched into a fist. He must have noticed that she had noticed because he exhaled deeply and let his fingers relax.

“But...what about your competition?”

Shirayuki sighed and settled back against his chest. “It’s early enough to change categories, and I’m used to skating singles, anyway -”

“That’s what you think? Or what Boss thinks?”

She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter either way, it’s done.”

Obi was still for a long time, so still that Shirayuki eventually opened her eyes to check on him. His jaw was set so tightly that she was surprised that she couldn’t hear teeth grinding, and his eyes, which usually glittered with mischief or glowed with humor, were hard and flinty.

At her movement, Obi looked down at her, his eyes softening and his expression turning apologetic as his hand resumed its soothing rhythm. “I’m sorry, Twirls.” He looked out towards the Zamboni he was supposed to be driving, and snorted. He muttered, so low that she probably wasn’t supposed to hear, “I can’t believe he didn’t-”

Shirayuki shrugged, cutting him off. “He tried - at first, anyway. All the way to the hospital, he was holding my hand and promising that everything would be fine, that he’d figure something out.” She sighed. “I guess he did.”

“Or Boss did.”

“You know how important the team is to him.”

Obi squeezed her shoulder a final time before removing his arm from her shoulders and standing up. “I know how important you are, Twirls.” He held out a hand. “Come on, let’s go.”

She took his hand and let him pull her up. “Where?”

~~~

The moon was big and full, casting an ethereal glow over the frozen pond. Shirayuki took in a deep breath, feeling the icy sharpness of the air sting her nose, and smiled. She loved to skate anywhere, and she’d always be grateful for having the opportunity to skate at the rink, as fancy as it was. But there was something more...real about skating on a pond. It reminded her of the first time she glided across the lake near her grandparents’ pub, the feel of her father’s gloves beneath her mittens as he taught her to skate, of spinning free in the center of a lake, hair flying and arms outstretched, feeling light and airy and free.

Obi’s keys jingled as he shoved them into his coat pocket, stomping through the snow as he made his way over from his pick-up. “Feeling better, Twirls?”

“Just about,” she nodded. “The moon is so beautiful tonight.”

Obi hummed under his breath, and looking up, she saw him staring across the lake deep in thought.

“Makes me think of the night we met,” she continued.

It showed how much time had passed since they had met that Obi didn’t wince. She knew he wasn’t proud of how the first time they’d met officially was after he’d been caught for spreading debris across the pond where she had been practicing to trip her up and scare her off from the up-and-coming hockey player. Some enthusiast for the hockey team hadn’t liked that some outsider redhead was distracting The Zen Wisteria from the game.

Clearly, Obi had not been expecting her to leap over the debris without a moment’s hesitation. She could still remember the surprise and impressed look in his eyes as she met his stare head on after landing. He had even applauded her, which probably had some part in how quickly Mitsuhide and Kiki were able to catch up to him. Zen hadn’t been impressed with the stunt, but he had been impressed with the speed of Obi’s skating.

Despite Zen’s best efforts, Obi could not be pressed upon to actually join the speed skating relay team, but Zen had at least succeeded in getting him a job - reportedly to “keep him out of trouble” but they all knew better - at the rink. He took to driving the Zamboni with an enthusiasm that mildly terrified Mitsuhide, and he had a wealth of information on the surrounding area teams.

Obi gave a self-critical smile. “Good times, right? Except for when I got my face mashed into the snow by Miss Kiki.”

“It was good,” she agreed vehemently, “because it was the night I met you.”

She could feel her ears burning beneath her earmuffs and she quickly looked away over the lake. She heard a cough and saw Obi looking sheepish, one hand behind his head and red glinting through the olive skin of his cheeks.

“Same, Twirls.” He coughed again, and then made a shooing gesture. “Go on already, I know you’ve been dying to.”

Shirayuki needed no further prompting. She sat down in the snow, yanked off her boots, and slid on her skates. She pushed off the snowy ground and wobbled for a moment before steadying herself on Obi’s outstretched arm. “Thanks.” She stepped onto the ice, then craned her head back. “You coming?”

He kept gesturing towards the ice. “In a minute.”

The ice of the pond wasn’t quite as smooth as the ice of the rink - despite all his pleas in the past, Obi had never been allowed to take the Zamboni out for a “test drive” - but she liked that. The blades caught the slight divots and waves the water had settled into as it froze, and it reminded her of the lake back home. She could hear the birds settling into the nightly roosts and smell the fragrant scent of pine trees as a breeze blew into her face. Her nose was already red from the cold, and it felt amazing.

Shirayuki closed her eyes and spread her arms out wide. She felt free.

Na-na-na-na, na-na, na, I wanna start a fight!

Only years of experience in skating kept her from falling face first onto the ice, and she looked towards the sound. “Obi? What?”

The pick-up truck was running, the headlights spilling across the snow, and Obi was standing on the runner, holding onto the door with one hand and waving his phone with the other. Music blared out of the cab of the truck.

So, so what, I’m still a rock star-

“No time like the present, Twirls!” He bellowed over the music. “Let’s get that first-prize routine started.”

“Obi!” She was laughing now, her lungs burning beautifully. “Not that one!”

“It’s a good song,” he protested, “and it was the first one on Torou’s ‘Break My Heart, I’ll Break His Face’ playlist.”

Of course, Torou would have that as a playlist.

“Next one!” She yelled, making a new round around the perimeter of the pond.

“Fine, but I’m telling Torou!”

It was an empty threat, they both knew Torou would take her side.

I do my hair toss, check my nails-

“Yes!” Shirayuki crowed and pushed off to the center, tossing her hair and splaying her fingers along to the music.

Baby, how you feelin’?

She spun once, twice, three times before skating backwards shimmying her shoulders in time with the music. She went faster and faster -

You know you a star, you can touch the sky-

And she leapt. And again. And again.

She was breathless with laughter and could see Obi’s grin all the way from the shore between spins. 

The song faded, and the next began.

It took too long, it took too long, it took too long for you to call back-

“Too fast!” She called.

“Lies!” He called back, “Get it, Twirls!”

She stopped herself with a hand on the ice before tearing off around the pond, picking up speed.

This is the potential break-up song-

She began to make almost lazy spins in the center of the pond, her arms gliding in patterns in front of her and behind her head before speeding up once the chorus starting blaring.

Potential Break-up Song segued into IDGAF, and then into Cee-Lo. She was breathless and her arms ached from skating and her face ached from smiling and everything felt right.

We could have had it all, rolling in the deep

You had my heart inside your hand and

Played it to the beat-

Her heart stuttered despite herself, and she sighed.

“Twirls?”

She waved him off, and picked up speed. Faster and faster she went, leaving her hurt and anger behind, feeling nothing but the burn in her muscles, the ice beneath her feet, the chill in the air, and the music in her ears. One leap, two leaps, and then she slid back on her left foot -

We could have had it all!

-And she spun backwards into a Salchow.

She landed, blushing at the Obi’s whoops and cheers, and felt proud but spent. She slowed down, her heart pounding as Adele continued to sing, and skated towards where she’d left her boots.

Obi padded down towards them as well, bending down to scoop them up and lifting them out towards her as she approached. She shook her head vigorously and stuck out her hand. “No, your phone.”

He arched his brow. “Huh?”

Shirayuki thrust her hand towards the phone, fanning her fingers vigorously. “Your phone, gimme. Come join me!”

“Twirls…”

She knew it was cheating to give him The Eyes. She didn’t care. “Obi.”

He took a shuddering breath and covered his face with his hand. “Fine.” He handed over the phone and tramped through the snow back to the truck.

By the time he had pulled his old skates from the truck bed and laced them onto his feet, she had scrolled through the phone and disregarded several songs before picking the best one.

Obi stepped out onto the ice. “Gonna tell me what you picked?”

She pushed Play and stuck the phone into her pocket, zipping it. “Nope.”

“Twirls…”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” she chided, hoping the nonchalance in her voice drowned out the pounding of her heart. She reached out her hands. “Skate with me?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’m not that fancy of a skater, Twirls.”

“I don’t want fancy, Obi,” she insisted. “I want you.”

That was...a lot more blunt that she had intended. But it was a night for change, and as his hand enveloped hers, it felt right.

She braced one foot behind her and pulled on his hand. And he followed.

Hand in hand, they skated to the center of the pond, and Shirayuki strained to hear the opening chords from the truck radio. As the piano began, she pushed off, with Obi following their linked hands.

What would I do without your smart mouth?

Obi’s hand tightened on hers, and she was hyper aware of how the heat of his palm burned hers through their gloves.

My head’s underwater, but I’m breathing fine

You’re crazy and I’m out of my mind.

This was moving too fast, she was being too forward. But it felt like all her pieces were falling into place. Obi wasn’t used to leisurely skating, he was more of a speed skater and going slowly nearly made him stumble. But in the next glide, his movements were more smooth and together they fell into the same rhythm.

Cause all of me loves all of you

All your curves and all your edges

All your perfect imperfections

Their eyes met, and even now she could see some hesitation. Her grip on his hand tightened and she adjusted her stride so she was closer to him. Even as their breath fogged around them into the cold night air, she could only feel the warmth of him beside her. Shirayuki turned, skating backwards and pulling him to follow her into a small spin. And Obi, who she’d seen charm birds out of the trees, looked almost dazed before following along.

Give your all to me

I’ll give my all to you

You’re my end and my beginning

Even when I lose, I’m winnin’

Slowly, they spun around each other, the circles growing slower and smaller until she was fully in his arms. Even as his arms wrapped around her, she could feel hesitation in the quivering of his muscles. She took a big breath, laced with the scent that was so distinctly Obi, and took the plunge, laying her head against his shoulder.

His breath shuddered, and she was held so close she couldn’t tell where she started and he began.

Give me all of you, oh

Cards on the table, we’re both showing hearts

Risking it all, though it’s hard

There was always a risk to be completely honest. But she trusted Obi. She hoped he trusted her, too.

“Obi?”

“Yes?”

“Is this-” Despite her resolve, she could feel her fingers trembling. She had been brave up until now. “Do you feel- I mean…”

Obi pulled back and gave her an intense look. “Shirayuki.”

(She refused to faint, but hearing him say her actual name like that was making it a real possibility.)

“Yes.”

Her heart leapt into her throat. She was about to show that word all the appreciation it deserved, but then Obi opened his mouth again.

“But I won’t get in the way of-”

Only he could make her want to smack him and hug him at the same time. “There’s nothing to get in the way of, Obi. There’s just friendship there, and right now even that’s a little dodgy.”

Obi looked dazed again. “Oh.”

She smiled at him, adrenaline making her lips quivered. He brushed his hands against the outside of her arms and she melted against him.

The song had long since stopped, and they stood in silence for a long time.

“Shirayuki.” Obi began, and as much as Shirayuki liked his nickname for her, she definitely would like hearing her full name from him more often, especially when his voice held that husky tone.

She looked up and met his gaze, which was full of intent. He lowered his head to hers, slowly enough that she could pull back or pull away if she wanted.

She didn’t want to.

Instead, she lifted her head so that her lips met his.

#obiyukibingo21 #ans #Akagami no Shirayukihime #obiyuki #figure skating au

[jeannereames]

1) I think it was Plutarch’s account, that after Hephaistion’s and Krateros’s famous clash, Alexander eventually reconciles them by telling them he loved them most of all men. Will you be expanding on Alexander’s and Krateros’s relationship in your future DwtL books? I remember you briefly touched upon them in Rise. Or like, is there any historical evidence that elucidates what their dynamic was like beyond/including the whole philobasileus thing?

Who Was Krateros (and what will I do with him in DwtL)?

I’ve always found it curious that, in most novels about Alexander’s conquests, Krateros tends to be a distant secondary character in contrast to others around Alexander, especially Ptolemy—despite the fact Krateros was more powerful than Ptolemy, and powerful at an earlier date.

I suspect it owes to the fact Ptolemy went on to found a dynasty and write a history. Modern writers feel as if they know him better. By contrast, Krateros died just two years after Alexander. So although he tends to have a better reputation among modern historians (which, I think, is not well-deserved), he’s never really received thorough treatment in much the same way (and for much the same reason) as Hephaistion.

He died too soon to become a major player among the Diadochi. But that means the people we know best from the era of the Diadochi were NOT the most prominent men at Alexander’s court. So don’t be surprised when Krateros pops up as an important secondary figure in the series with a more conspicuous role than Seleukos, or Antipatros, or Antigonos, who all long outlived him.

In part, that importance owes to Hephaistion’s role as protagonist. If pressed to name the chief protagonist of Dancing with the Lion, Alexandros or Hephaistion…it’s Hephaistion.

I don’t want to go into too much detail about future plots and spoil it—but if Krateros winds up Hephaistion’s bête noire, he doesn’t start that way. The details of their falling out is a driving point of the Long Plot (e.g., the plot across books, part of the overall tragedy of Alexander’s story). I’ll just say that, when I first saw Hamilton, the Musical, a lot of the Hamilton-Burr dynamic resonated because it reminded me of my vision of Hephaistion and Krateros.

Don’t overextend that, but it gives a general idea.

We have some hints that suggest, at least at first, Hephaistion and Krateros weren’t enemies. They may not have been bosom buddies, but I don’t think they were enemies.

I have a clear personal view of each man, based on the historical texts. Hephaistion’s personality I laid out in the first two novels. He can be touchy about his honor and how he’s viewed, and is 110% loyal to Alexander, but not a suck-up. The two just generally see things the same way, and will continue to do so (except in matters of religion, which does come to a head in one particular event I’ll not spoil). Yet in how to run the empire and how to Persianize the court, they’re on the same page and Hephaistion is deeply involved in court procedural renovations. This accords with what the sources tell us. Hephaistion followed Alexander in the changes, which is typical of how ancient sources would present it. Me, I’d argue he didn’t just “follow,” he helped Alexander come up with it. He understood the problem/hurdle as Alexander did and was a party to the solution of blending the two courts.

My Hephaistion is proud, and wants to be recognized for his contributions and ideas. He resents it when anybody suggests he’s just a “yes-man.” And no, that’s not because they were/are lovers. It’s because sycophancy is an easy way to insult your rival. 😉Nothing makes him angrier than being called a “flatterer.” His friendship with Alexander will go through highs and lows (because that’s human), but he remains mostly certain of his place at Alexandros’s right hand. That doesn’t mean he won’t get jealous, because he definitely has a jealous bone (which I think I pretty clearly established in Rise). Yet as time goes on, he settles down and his clashes with others stem from a failure by those others to recognize his place. Yet he understands his place—and ambitions—differently. He can act jealous and touchy, but not for expected reasons. My Hephaistion (and I stress this is not the historical person) just isn’t that interested in commanding others or occupying high office for itself. The kleos of it: glory He wants to help Alexandros make his new empire work, and gets really impatient with all the other “idiots” who can’t see what needs to be done to achieve that. He has ambition, but it’s north/north-west of typical.

Krateros is also pretty clear in my head, both as a fictional character but also how I think he was historically. He, too, is a deeply ambitious, and very capable. My fictional Krateros’s vicious ambition stems from being the “poor cousin” to Perdikkas and the Orestian royal house, needing to prove his place, not just get it as a right of birth—although he also gets it as a right of birth because he is not a commoner. In short, he has the resentment and envy of second-tier gentry, but the drive to succeed in Philip’s (and then Alexander’s) army where ability is recognized too. (I’d note that, after ATG’s death, Krateros [along with Ptolemy] joined Antigonos’s rebellion against Perdikkas as regent of the kings…which is why he died in battle fighting Eumenes, who was on Perdikkas’s side. Yet this is notable because he was almost certainly from Orestes…and thus, related to Perdikkas. We can debate who was higher born, but I think it was Perdikkas.)

Anyway, Alexandros recognizes both his ability and sympathizes with his drive to succeed because it’s similar to his own: the need to prove himself to his father, as prince.

That’s the fictional background of my Krateros, but the historical man was good at what he did, and knew it, and expected to be recognized for it among his peers: to stand first among them. Ergo, he was viciously competitive to rivals, but charming and charismatic otherwise.

How does that work? To those well above him in the power structure, he’s respectful and seeks their approval in order to receive advancement. So, for instance, he’s devoted to the kings (Philip, then Alexander) because they are Givers of Good Things (promotions, land, loot). He would have been a young officer under Philip, making him roughly the age of Ptolemy, Philotas, Nikanor, Koenos…maybe Kleitos (although I think Kleitos was a bit older), just as Leonnatos, Perdikkas, Seleukos and Hephaistion were coevals of Alexander.

So he couldn’t and wouldn’t challenge the “old men”: Parmenion, Antigonos Monophthalmos, Antipatros, etc. He even seems to have been an understudy to Parmenion. For instance, at Issos, he was in charge not just of his brigade but the whole left wing under Parmenion’s general command. He wanted to impress Parmenion and earn his support—not antagonize him.

Likewise, he had no reason to lord it over his infantry battalion, who would have been no threat to his ambitions. He needed them, in fact. By being chummy with them, he was far more likely to secure their loyalty—not unlike Caesar later.

It was those men who were rivals for positions he wanted who drew his special ire. Krateros would never get Parmenion’s spot while the old man lived, but Parmenion was old. Krateros could wait. After Issos, I expect Krateros saw himself as Parmenion’s natural successor. Yet Krateros was also unlikely to get Parmenion’s spot as long as Philotas lived. If we have only a sketchy idea of ranking order in the army, the whole Philotas Affair tells us/suggests the position of commander of the Companion Cavalry was the #2 position after Parmenion’s slot as viceroy to Alexander. Krateros may have served under Parmenion in charge of the army left side at Issos…but Philotas was still above him in the food chain.

Nikanor (Parmenion’s middle son) may also have been a hurdle, as commander of the Regular Hypaspists (as opposed to Royal Hypaspists), but he was younger than Philotas. Thus, Krateros would have started by removing Philotas, only worrying about Nikanor after—and as it turned out, Nikanor died of disease in late 330, deleting himself from the picture.

Our histories seem united on Philotas as arrogant and pushing his place: an obnoxious little brat, if also a perfectly capable commander. Ergo, Philotas provided Krateros with the perfect target, one unlikely to have staunch defenders.

So Krateros systematically went after him as early as the Egyptian sojourn, and possibly even earlier. Plutarch doesn’t always get things right, so we must be cautious about this, and Badian wanted to make the spying of Krateros part of Alexander’s big conspiracy against Parmenion’s family. Not at all. I think it was Krateros’s attempt to target the man he saw as chief rival.

At that point, Krateros would have regarded Alexander’s cohort as “the boys.” They didn’t have major offices, although were rising to some key junior commands. For instance, Hephaistion apparently commanded the “agema” (later term but good enough for this) of the Hypaspists. That’s the king’s own unit, who acted as his personal bodyguard in battle and actually ran with the cavalry squadron (!, yes in full armor). They would have been composed almost entirely of aristocratic young men: e.g., former Pages. So that’s a plum command for Hephaistion…but he didn’t command a whole SECTION of the army, like Philotas and the Companions.

Hephaistion, Leonnatos, Perdikkas, Seleukos…they weren’t a threat to Krateros. He could be friendly to them, may even have cultivated Hephaistion especially, for his unique access to the king. You may be thinking, Man, he sounds like a user! Well, yes. That’s how the Macedonian court functioned, although I think Krateros was more ruthless, and successful, than most.

Then he got an unexpected gift-horse: the Dimnos Conspiracy and Philotas’s casual (and deeply stupid) dismissal of the warning about it. Krateros went right for the jugular.

I want to make a point that I also made in “Crisis and Opportunity: the Philotas Affair…again.” We absolutely must resist looking backwards from the outcome to ascertain motives. When the scared Pages finally approached Ptolemy, who then went to Alexander and the other Friends, NOBODY knew what the outcome would be. It was not planned. It really was a crisis.

Yet Krateros saw opportunity in the crisis, and as a successful field commander, ran with it. So I see him, not Hephaistion, as the architect of the accusation against Philotas. HE had the most to gain (he thought), and if Plutarch can be believed in this, it wasn’t the first time he’d tried to bring Philotas’s snarky words and bad behavior to Alexander. As alluded to above, he’d paid Philotas’s mistress to report to him what Philotas said during “pillow talk” as early as Egypt. Now it could be (and quite probably was) that he saw Philotas’s bragging and claims to victories as a real threat to the king. (Kinda like shadow presidents in Mar-a-Lago.) People can have more than one motivation. They can even have a “good” motivation (protecting Alexander’s pride and reputation) alongside a “bad” motivation (making Alexander resentful of Philotas). Alexander’s pride was touchy too. 😉 Even if he blew off Krateros’s accusations at the time, we can imagine he was still stung. Seeds successfully planted!

We must, however, be careful not to read the final results back into the assumptions of the people at the time. Hindsight 20/20 and all that. I do NOT think Krateros believed this would result in Parmenion’s removal/death, although I do think he wanted to get Philotas arrested and executed.

Also, I do NOT believe Hephaistion had any idea he was about to be elevated to command of half the Companion Cavalry. He’d have had no reason to think he’d be leapfrogged over older, loyal men, such as Krateros…or Kleitos, who wound up as his co-commander.

Hephaistion’s motivation? Friendship. In “Crisis and Opportunity” I stressed it was friendship to Alexander, but I’ve also come to think that Krateros may have talked him into it, so also friendship, or at least alliance, with Krateros, who knew he could rile Hephaistion’s blood. He wanted that sheen of authentic anger. I want to quickly add that Koenos joined in with the torturers because he feared going down with the ship, as he was Philotas’s brother-in-law.

All this neatly explains why it was Hephaistion to whom Philotas appealed during his torture. Not because he orchestrated it, but because he had the least reason of the three to want Philotas out of the way. He was in it for passion and so, might then be moved to pity. Krateros was all-in from the outset, and Koenos had to be to save his own neck from Philotas’s arrogant stupidity.

So Philotas was convicted, executed, and then Alexander felt he must also execute Parmenion because he was sitting on Alexander’s all-important supply lines during a major operation. That is not a pretty picture and must be acknowledged as much. Philotas Did a Dumb, and lost his life for it. Extreme, but he dug his own grave. Parmenion was flat-out murdered. Realpolitik does not excuse the death of the man who’d sided with Alexander, put him on the throne, then advised him so capably.

In any case, from Krateros’s point of view, this was terrific. Philotas was out of his way, and so was Parmenion. Honestly, I doubt he wanted to see the old man dead instead of honorably retired, but it still cleared the way for him.

Then an astonishing thing happened!

Krateros didn’t get the Companions. Hephaistion did. And Kleitos. Of the younger generation, Hephaistion had just leap-frogged right over the heads of Krateros and all his cohorts. (Again, I think Kleitos was older; there’s no evidence of Krateros being at public odds with him.)

Just imagine how angry Krateros was!

The snotty little upstart! Who the hell did Hephaistion think he was?

So yeah, Krateros got what he wanted: Philotas out of the way. And in the process, he shot himself in the foot.

Plutarch tells us exactly why Alexander made the choice he did: nobody should have that much command authority henceforth, even his best friend. But he did want a man loyal to him in that position. I would not be at all surprised if—crisis past—Alexander recognized Krateros’s maneuvering for what it was…and didn’t indulge him. He wasn’t about to give out promotions for the backstage take-down of a fellow officer.

By the Battle of the Hydaspes against Poros in India (almost three years later), Krateros served the same position as Parmenion: hold the main army while Alexander leads the attack. Yet in between, Alexander had rearranged units. Even the Companions had not only been split, but divided further into six Hipparchies. Hephaistion’s was primary, but only the first of six. He was no longer overall commander. And that would have happened had Kleitos lived or died, as Kleitos had been reassigned as satrap in Baktria. Dividing the Companions had just been the initial sally to a more comprehensive reorganization and power redistribution.

Ergo, if Krateros had power, it would never be equal to Parmenion’s, and it seems to have been deliberately delayed after the Philotas Affair. Krateros dared not get mad at Alexander. Again, as king, Alexander is above these status wars, and the Giver of Good Things.

Another complication for Krateros: Parmenion’s death had angered Parmenion’s loyal men, some of whom Krateros had commanded…and Krateros had been part of Parmenion’s downfall, however indirectly. Wouldn’t it be convenient if he could shift the blame to Hephaistion?

So Hephaistion was now the chief man “in his way.” Plus (fair or not) Krateros resented him for getting the plum assignment, may have convinced himself that Hephaistion used the opportunity to sweet-talk Alexander into giving it to him. Even if he didn’t believe that, he could still have spread the rumor. It was advantageous, displacing soldier’s anger over Parmenion’s death onto Hephaistion. And it would rile up his own battalion/soldiers with indignation on his behalf.

“Stop the steal!” *smirk*

It all exploded in India. We’re not told when, but I suspect sooner rather than later—before the Malian catastrophe. My best guess is after the Hydaspes, possibly while everyone was relaxing for a while in Poros’s kingdom. Bored soldiers are gossipy soldiers, and get restless and pick fights.

Gregor Weber in his analysis “The Court of Alexander the Great as Social System” (Alexander the Great: a new history, 2009) suggested that Alexander encouraged such rivalry among his Hetairoi and Friends, and uses the H. and K. squabble as a peak example. To some degree, that’s true. Competition was endemic to the Macedonian court because it was endemic (maybe EPIDEMIC) to Greek society more broadly. Macedonian kings (not just Alexander) would have encouraged competition as a way of choosing the best officers. The Hetairideia I described in Dancing with the Lion—the Festival of the Companions with competitions—was a real thing. I made up a lot of the details, but we hear about it under the Antigonids, by which time it involved mock battle. But it was said to have been much older. There very well may be ties between the Hetairideia and the original Macedonian “Olympics” at Dion. E.g., the latter may have grown out of the former, but it’s all too vague to know.

Anyway, competition was natural and encouraged at court, but I disagree with Weber about Alexander encouraging THAT particular competition between Hephaistion and Krateros. Weber reads the clever “philobasileus/philalexandros” as encouraging. I see it (and Plutarch’s wording suggests) just the opposite. He was trying to lower the temperature in the room. It didn’t work.

We simply aren’t told enough about the swords-drawn brawl to understand what led up to it. E.g., who started it, as Alexander put it. I don’t mean (and don’t think Alexander meant) who pulled his sword first. He meant who STARTED it. I tend to read that “I’ll kill you both, or at least the one who started it,” as a veiled threat to Krateros. He would have damn well known who started it. He was telling Krateros in that public reconciliation, “Knock it off, dickhead, or else.” And I expect that’s also what he told him in their private meeting/confrontation.

There is more to this, but I’ve said all I want to, for the moment. Again, I’m working on Krateros and Hephaistion at present for a book chapter in a collection, and I’ll also be doing more on them both for a monograph. So I’ll just end with my take on the Indian conflict.

#asks #Krateros #Craterus #Hephaistion #Hephaestion #Alexander the Great #Macedonian history #Macedonian court #Craterus and Hephaestion #Krateros and Hehaistion #Greek history #Classics #Tagamemnon

[tangledinmdzs]

MDZS juniors reaction to their fiancé (arranged marriage) being in love with her instrument teacher? (Kinda like Marie Antoinette, but no guillotine lol.)

interesting... i wish i was a better history junkie to get that reference, hehe. this is quite a hefty load angstier than i had anticipated, but i hope it is still enjoyable!

here’s to your request!

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

Lan Sizhui

he wonders about the color of your eyes a lot

you’ve held the same gaze once, the first time actually on your wedding night

when he lifted the red veil from your head and you had looked up to him in surprise

he had been enamored by you ever since

as for you, it hadn’t been the same

you were forced to marry him as a consolation from your sect

a political ploy, in other words

stripped of your titles, belongings, and worth, you had come into this marriage feeling anything but love

but Sizhui was much more amicable than you,

and had the hope that...

even if love hadn’t been there from the start

it could be 

yet the few weeks that you had begun to live in Gusu with him had seen less of you than when he and his family were still arranging the marriage with your parents at your sect

he would wondered where you would run off to...

what you would be doing

if you were any bored at all

sometimes,

Sizhui wished that he hadn’t wondered

hadn’t imagined,

and hadn’t investigated

then, he wouldn’t have found out

found you in the lower, private floors of the library, opened with a key that you obviously stole from him

rifling through his family’s musical cultivation archives

obviously as his partner, you could have simply asked him and he would have given the music to you

but then, when another tall figure in dark blue robes, one of the older disciples of the sect, closer to your age, emerges from behind the book shelves

Sizhui understands

but still he wonders

why he is hurt

Lan Jingyi

Lan Jingyi had not wanted to get married

but it’s not like they could just marry Sizhui off,

his best friend had bigger duties than a political tie 

especially with a small sect such as yours (no offense)

and as Sizhui’s lifetime, very best, dutiful, honorary best friend, Lan Jingyi bit the bullet and got married in his best friend’s stead

so you get swindled on your first night, and obviously there’s nothing to be happy about that

Jingyi’s sorry that he had to lie, but he’s not sorry that because of that lie he ended up meeting you

after a bit of a heart to heart on the crisp bedsheets, 

you admit that you didn’t want to get married either

so you both form a weird agreement of acquaintanceship (?), a possible friendship for the future, on the first night of your wedding 

it had worked out well

Jingyi kept an eye on you

you both held hands whenever anyone had questions

and all was fine

there were no feels attached

which was why you found it easier to give your heart away to another disciple of the Lan clan

the older, voice cultivation leader that had come to visit Gusu for a short few months

coincidentally, the same few months that you had just been married into the sect

when you confess to Jingyi, in the shared bedchamber, that you’ve met someone that’s stolen your heart

Jingyi expects himself to feel nothing

but he doesn’t 

he feels everything

Jin Ling

Jin Ling doesn’t look at you

not during the ceremony

not when you both had to bow to each other

not even, when you were both in the bedchamber together, alone, on your wedding night

he doesn’t even pull the veil off of you until much much later, when there’s too much alcohol in his breath

the veil is flicked off of your head a lot less ceremoniously than you had expected

it causes you to stare at him with something akin to annoyance at his rudeness

your first look shared

he looks down at you, hovers a hands length away from you to get a better look at your face

there’s a knitted look to your eyebrows as you stare at him, wondering what he was planning on doing

instead, all he says in frustrated, sombre, drunkenness is

“i never wanted this,” 

he tilts his head back and downs the entire cup in his hand, throwing it somewhere on the carpeted floor behind you before crawling onto the bed and sprawling out

he is asleep in seconds

you hate the heaviness weighing down in your chest

there are tears in your eyes, even though you had reminded yourself not to cry today, tonight, or ever as the new wife to the Jin Lanling sect leader

but Jin Ling hadn’t made it easy for you

and you turn around at the edge of the bed to look at him, angry quiet tears running down your face

“i never wanted this either” 

and you mean it 

you spend the rest of your months feeling closer to a prisoner of his sect than his wife

you understand that this marriage was anything but desired,

but his actions pained you

he barely speaks to you

and the only shared time that you both had together was the meals brought to your shared room

and even then, there was no conversation to be made

which is why, solace comes in the form of the kind music teacher that his sect had provided to give you something to do

this man was much older than you, a good decade difference

but he had the youthful features that covered the age gap

and maybe you were just lonely

but there was no denying that the man before you was kind and gentle in every way that Jin Ling wasn’t 

soon, much too soon, 

it wasn’t hard for anyone to realize that you had a fondness for that man, surpassing his skills on the guqin

when Jin Ling realizes, from the hushed rumors made about you around his sect

he smashes your guqin

is angrier with you in all the months that you had ever been with him

angrier than you’ve ever seen

you reassure to yourself that, at the very least, it was another emotion other than indifference

as you kneeled by your destroyed instrument, silent tears streaming down your cheeks in your empty cold bedchamber

you wonder if you had lost all chance of happiness

when you had met Jin Ling

Ouyang Zizhen

Zizhen was excited 

he’d been itching to get married for a while now

there was a feeling of something new, something different coursing through his veins

it was a benefit to his sect, to be here

a great interest for your sector as well

overall an auspicious alliance between both parties

he had yet to meet you

but, he’s heard a lot about you

of your gentle ways

your incomparable beauty

your skills in all aspects from work to protection

in all honesty, you were the entire package

and you were being given to Zizhen

he smiles as he walks into the decorated bedchamber where you awaited him

you sit, as poised and formal as you can with the red veil covering your face

Zizhen has only had a few drinks, reminded himself not to have too much

because he didn’t want to forget your face

he walks up to you, the final succession, before kneeling down in front of your sitting form by the bed

he lifts the veil off

your eyes blink to look at him, the rosiness of your cheeks matching the vivid red of the veils and your wedding robes

when you both look at one another, for an extra long moment, Zizhen wonders if he could just kiss you right then and there

he’d never thought that love at first sight was a real occurrence

but meeting you had been proof of that

and when you smile at him

it’s practically over for his heart

with you laying in his arms on your first night together, Zizhen feels as if everything has fallen into place

but as a few months pass by with you living in his sector, he begins to realize that that isn’t the case

at first, he doesn’t believe it, doesn’t believe his own gut and thoughts

because you still smile at him

still pour him his tea and chat with him and eat with him

and lay in his arms when night comes

but as the months begin to rack up to a year 

and those moments become sparser

and your face becomes colder

Zizhen wonders where he went wrong

wrong enough, that one day he stops by your music lesson on the pipa at the wrong time

catches you not holding your instrument at all

but another man

with foreign lips that know the taste of your lips better than he ever would

Zizhen turns away quickly at the sight

the pain knots in his chest

how could anything arranged, ever be?

Zizhen walks away, eyes downcast, blurry visioned

how could he be naive enough to believe in love at all?

#mdzs writing request #mdzs request #mdzs reader insert #mdzs reader inserts #mdzs x reader #mdzs x y/n #mdzs scenario request #mdzs imagine request #mdzs reaction request #mdzs juniors #mdzs junior quartet #mdzs juniors gang #mdzs canon au #mdzs universe #mdzs lan sizhui x reader #mdzs lan jingyi xreader #mdzs jin ling x reader #mdzs ouyang zizhen x reader #mdzs headcanons #lan sizhui x reader #lan jingyi x reader #jingyi x reader #jin ling x reader #ouyang x reader #ouyang zizhen x reader #mdzs requests open #mdzs ask me to write #mdzs writing requests #mdzs writing blog #tangledwriting

[songofclarity]

While I am not entirely onboard with fandom trying to make Nie MingJue an Aquarius...

One of the most compatible matches for Aquarius is Sagittarius

My low-key headcanon birthday for Wen RuoHan is December 21 (the winter solstice) which would make him a Sagittarius, and that does feel like it hits a good spot

And because I am a simple person, if popular fandom headcanons support the ship I like, I am more willing to buy in lol

(Below are just some preliminary thoughts and I make no claim to be an expert on horoscopes!)

I also liked what this article had to say on a Aquarius and Sagittarius romantic match:

Sagittarius and Aquarius share a lust for life that sparks an instant attraction. Both signs are comfortable with letting the other maintain their independence, and they appreciate not having to fight for their freedom in the relationship. Because Sagittarius and Aquarius are willing to be open with one another, they'll find their lives are filled with curiosity and wonder.

But the dark side of this anything-goes arrangement is that both Sag and Aquarius are commitment phobic. You'll often see this pair in very long-term relationships, but they hesitate to put a label on anything. This can come from a fear of the mundane, not from an inability to love on another! If Sagittarians and Aquarians understand that their unwillingness to commit comes from a deep respect for the other person's independence, then their relationship will thrive.

A relationship built on mutual respect and personal independence is quite suiting for them both! The idea of them being in a long-term relationship without a label perfectly fits with how I've spoken of their brand of relationship before (such as in the modern AU)

Wen RuoHan also checks all five boxes on the listed traits that make him a good match for an Aquarius:

Hospitality (Guests cultivators love coming and staying with the Wen Sect and we consistently see Wen RuoHan being a good and listening host)

A Good Sense of Humor (We see him being rather lighthearted, sharing a simple teasing moment with his subordinate after they just fended off a life-or-death situation)

Eclectic Interests (There is definitely room to call his interests as such, especially considering the diverse types of people he becomes closest to and how it's suggested that he doesn't do things normally)

Complexity (A man who is thought to not do things normally, who gets along with a diverse group of people, and has eclectic interests is definitely one full of surprises and mystery)

Independence (He listens to others but keeps the final word. That he would send his most loyal subordinate away and let his children run off to do as they please suggests he is not clingy)

Wen RuoHan even avoids all five traits that would make him a bad match for Aquarius:

Snobbishness (Avoided! Everyone is welcome to the Qishan Wen, and he even picks the same subordinate Nie MingJue had once picked)

Stoicism (Avoided! We see him speaking openly and laugh in good humor. Wen ZhuLiu's thoughts reveal Wen RuoHan is someone who has a heart and would not sit idly by if problems arose)

Nosiness (Avoided! We see other people volunteering unnecessary things about other people, but he himself never asks and certainly never pries deeper into other's business or old wounds)

Inflexibility (Avoided! He might actual be TOO flexible considering his moral scale can slide from Wen Qing to Meng Yao and back again, but that is what gives Nie MingJue reasonable hope for him lol)

Possessiveness (Avoided! His children go out to do as the want, he waits for his rebellious ally to return to him once they realize the mistake they made, and he sends off his most loyal follower to stand by someone else's side.)

At the same time, Sagittarius Wen RuoHan is very compelling and fits surprising well, I think!

Nie MingJue doesn't do too poorly checking the three boxes that make him a good match for a Sagittarius:

Honesty (This man does not know how to lie even to save his own life)

A Sense of Adventure (Letting sworn brothers play magical music to mess with his mind is adventurous, no? lol While he might not have hobbies outside of cultivation and work, there is room to suggest he's more than willing to jump up and go out the door when adventure/necessity calls. Remember that all the "gifts" Jin GuangYao tries and fails to bribe him with are stuff, not activities or experiences or destinations)

Curiosity (we might see more of this side of him if opportunities presented themselves and his brothers weren't lying to/manipulating/avoiding him on the regular. One example: we see him showing non-judgemental curiosity about Wei WuXian not carrying his sword, but the Twin Jades weren't interested in delving into it so the conversation ended there.)

To make up for any mediocre efforts above, he shines on avoiding all three traits that would make him a bad match for Sagittarius:

Pessimism (Avoided! Nie MingJue encourages and supports others to reaching their goals and potential. Plus he's all about those blood, sweat, and tears to get shit done. Follow your dreams! Keeping check and shouting Stop when the means clearly don't justify the ends, however, doesn't make him pessimistic)

Stickler for Rules (Avoided! Nie MingJue remembers the rules and he might press for them when it's life-or-death, but he's actually pretty lax most of the time, such as when he reminds Lan XiChen against spilling Lan Sect secrets, and then says nothing more on the matter)

Clinginess (Avoided! Nie MingJue himself is independent and he literally tried to send both sworn brothers away to focus on their own business at one point. We never see him visiting Cloud Recesses and his visits to Koi Tower were strictly business. Even Nie HuaiSang, the spoiled baby brother, gets more than his fair share of independence while living with Nie MingJue)

It amuses me how Sagittarius only has 3 good/bad match traits while Aquarius has 5. Nie MingJue is more reserved and thus has more demands on those who can get close to him while Wen RuoHan by all means appears pretty relaxed and laid back, which I feel makes these numbers suit both their characters quite well.

Bonus:

#ruojue #mdzs thoughts #this is not to say i am now 100% on team aquarius nmj #but i can certainly play along for my own nefarious agenda lol #this has links so doubtful it will go into the main tags #in other news heliocentric 15 is almost done #but also i need to write a real ship fic for them soon

[calpops]

finding out little surprising habits you hadn't known about the person before you started living together. always sitting on a remote, because cal never puts it next to tv, him drinking coffee and then having a shower, her choosing boots to wear before actually choosing clothes or falling asleep with a book practically every time waiting for him from the studio. little things that sometimes annoy but really only make you fall for the person more

~It’s been a minute since we’ve visited the dates with cal universe. Hope this 1k word blurb makes up for it~

You and Calum find a rhythm as living together finally settles in. Once the boxes are emptied and each other’s organizational preferences are figured out it becomes second nature. Calum finally gets used to your precise placements of kitchen items and you don’t even blink at the fact that a stray bass always somehow winds up in the living room; even though Calum has a dedicated room for his music. Those kinds of things start to feel normal. The function of the house itself becomes innate to your daily routines. It’s the smaller things that need time for adjustment. Surprises seem to crop up; habits you hadn’t known and behaviors becoming learned.

You’re aware of some of your habits. Your tendency to be a whirlwind in the kitchen. The sentiment of cleaning as you go is always seemingly lost on you during the chaos of your personalized process. Other habits are more subtle. Falling asleep with a book still in your hand; Calum coming to bed later than you on nights in the studio to see a half read novel nearly falling out of your lax grip. It always makes him smile as he knows you were trying to stay up for him. He carefully takes it from you before it falls and turns down the page you’re on as you lose bookmarks as soon as you start using them. Once he finally finds himself settled into bed on those late nights he always kisses your forehead and whispers a good night, sweetheart. Sometimes your eyes flutter open and a mumbled response comes from your groggy voice. Sometimes all you do is snuggle in closer to him.

You learn his habits quickly. The way he splits his serving of coffee; half in the morning for a kick and the other half in the afternoon when drowsiness of late night sessions starts to grip him. His morning routine confuses you—coffee, shower and then breakfast—but his morning voice, bed head hair and pouty lips begging for a good morning kiss are more than charming. You’re usually in a rush to get to work and he usually functions in slow motion; grumpy and tired, complaining that the sun isn’t even up yet but always waking to be able to see you off to work anyway. You appreciate the good morning and goodbye kiss that keeps you blushing all the way to work more than you can fathom.

You’re surprised by some of his habits. Getting a remote to your back because he discards it on the couch cushions rather than the end table or on the entertainment center where you believe they belong. Finding picks discarded in disarray, littering more places than you can keep count of. You find yourself reminding him in a light hearted mimicry of his own reminders to you; put your picks away in one place and then you’ll be able to find them as he scours the house looking for a particular one.

You cultivate habits for and with each other. You always brew coffee for Calum in the mornings though you don’t drink it. He sends you promo codes for your favorite online shoe retailers because his activity is now curated with your interests too. You turn Calum onto certain shows in which downtime forms habits of binging Chopped and conceiving dishes out of the ridiculous requirements. Finding his lost picks and exchanging them for your lost shoe Calum stumbled over earlier in the day. Leaving sticky notes around the house you can both come back to. Evening walks with Duke and stealing each other’s bath products. Running your fingers through his soft hair as he smirks after using your special shampoo. Having the scent of him cling to you from the body wash you swiped in the shower that morning.

You realize living together is a never ending journey of each other. As much as you knew about each other before moving into the new house a new territory comes with new adventures. Every day highlights something new or something old. Time brings about more and more habits and behaviors. You both learn the wavelengths of each other. Find new intricacies of each other everyday.

It’s those little intricacies of Calum and his habits you come to know that make you love him even more. And it’s the little intricacies of you and your habits that he comes to know that makes him love you even more. It’s the habits you form together that bring you even closer. Makes the love between you even stronger.

***

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Tagged: @rosecolouredash @irwinkitten @golden-hood @who-do-you-love-5sos @caswinchester2000 @wildflowergrae @empathycth @cuddlemecalx @calumsmermaid @babylon-corgis @outerspaceisbetterthannothing @mariellelovescupcakes @xhaileyreneex @goth5sos @gosh-im-short @feliznavidaddycal @loveroflrh @findingliam-o @flowerthug @g-l-pierce @talkfastromance4 @cashtonasfuck @sc0ttish-wildfl0wer @wastedheartcth @calumscalm @thesubtweeter @akafeliznavidaddy @myloverboyash @treatallwithkindness @cals-wildflower

#calum hood #5sos #calum hood blurbs #calum hood imagines #5sos blurbs #5sos imagines #calum hood x you #calum hood x reader #5sos x you #5sos x reader #chblurb #cal!dates

[foreverydinger]

Graduation Flashbacks 2k21

Tony reminisces on graduations past while sitting in the ceremony.

Featuring: @tallulahrobinson @notmuchofatail @notbad-justsungthatway @oh-phineas @devyn-morey (lol)

Tony was in his stupid hat and gown again. It was the same one he’d had for years, only updating it when the school decided to change the style of cap and gown they’d want their students to wear. He glanced to the side, daring a look at his ex-boyfriend Haechan Roberts that he was assigned to sit beside. They had both been ignoring the other since being told that they would be sitting in alphabetical order. Tony had known it was coming, had known the moment he found out the other’s surname. This wasn’t his first rodeo, he’d done this sixty times before. Though Haechan reminded him of a few other R-named exes he’d been with many years ago.

“Promise you’ll write to me,” Tally had insisted when they’d discussed the breakup. Tony blinked at her, his heart aching as he realized what he’d have to do. He didn’t want to lie to her but what was one to do when the great and powerful Tallulah Robinson asked something of you?

“I promise, Tally. You go off and get your degree, see the world, send me postcards. I’ll be here, in Swynlake. It’s not like you’ll never see me again, your family’s here after all.” He chuckled through the pain, eyes beginning to water.

Sitting in the ceremony didn’t feel cold, instead they held hands side by side. Squeezing whenever something particularly emotional started to be said. ‘Goodbyes are hard,’ Tony thought as he stared not at the presenters but at her face. ‘She’ll be alright, though. She’s a force.’

“Congratulations, Class of 2010,” came the headmaster’s voice booming over the speakers. “You did it!”

As a roar rang out over the crowd Tony felt that same tingling, saw those same sparkles only he ever seemed to notice as the ceremony came to a conclusion. Despite his desire to hang on, to cling to Tallulah’s hand for dear life, he felt her grip slacken until she had completely dropped Tony. She had no reason to hold the hand of the boy beside her, she didn’t know him despite how small the school was.

She had places to be and a small town to forget.

The speakers were giving some emotional speech and Tony swiped at his eyes in frustration. Most people, if they saw him, might think he was just getting emotional about leaving Swynlake. The rumors had swirled around him about whether he was staying in the small town or leaving them for MIT. It was stupid, he regretted even posting the fake acceptance nowadays, but he supposed it wouldn’t matter shortly. He’d have to just fake a Pride U acceptance instead, as he usually did.

He looked around the expanse of graduates, spotting Phineas Flynn across the room. One of the few people whose relationships had transformed the most. Tony had barely considered the kid back when he had moved to their peculiar little town which had transformed drastically to incensed rage and been doused much like the flames he’d been spared from with, of all things, the power of music. Tony nearly rolled his eyes at the memory now if he ignored the very real damage that had been done to his person at the time.

The evolution of their friendship caused him to reminisce upon another relationship of his that had changed drastically since their first meeting: Gregory Eeyore.

He thought about Greg whom he had been texting constantly the past few days. They were best friends now, Greg had even believed Ian and Tony about the curse, even if the recollection of memories hadn’t been made possible unlike Ian. Honestly, the teenager wasn’t sure whether or not that was such a bad thing given their rocky past.

Tony scanned the sea of people who were all about to leave him behind. He spotted the likes of Devyn Morey—’Good for them, making it this far!’—before his eyes landed upon one Gregory Eeyore. It wasn’t as though Tony had been friends with Gregory by any stretch of the imagination. On the contrary, Tony was convinced that Greg hated him by association with his friends who had done little more than torment the quieter student.

Over the last few years Tony had dissuaded his friends from torturing their classmate, though the attempts were quieter than Tony knew he should have been and filled with the fear of being socially ejected. It seemed silly, sometimes, thinking about his fear of being rejected from a social group given he had a built-in redo in a way but recovering from that and climbing back up the social ladder even with the help of his curse’s bonus popularity air still took time and effort that he didn’t always want to do.

So Greg had suffered for it.

As Tony watched the other he made a silent wish—something that he should have stopped doing long ago after having his wish granted to never leave secondary—that Greg would find his niche out in the world now that secondary would be left behind him. Tony wanted nothing more than for Greg to find the peace he deserved.

“Congratulations, Class of 2017,” came the headmaster’s voice booming over the speakers. “You did it!”

As the announcement was made and caps were thrown into the air in celebration Tony felt that familiar tingle and sparkle surround him. He hoped that perhaps a part of that magical seal would grant this new wish.

Focusing on what friendships would prevail, Tony had to focus on the positives.

He would still have Pip, feisty and loyal Pip, to keep his feet on the ground and yet also keep him on his toes. There was never a dull moment in their friendship and he couldn’t wait for long nights with him listening to musicals or any of the other interests that the younger boy held to his chest.

Tony could hold onto the friendship he’d newly cultivated with Mim Ambrosius who was a brushfire. Chaotic and terrifying in the danger she could create while also being capable of cultivating a sort of refreshment on life much like the sorts of plants that had to burn to spread their seeds and flourish elsewhere.

He scanned the crowd to see if he could spot any particular faces turned toward himself. He caught a glimpse of someone’s profile for a moment and mistook them for the one and only Jessica Rabbit.

“We’re still friends,” Jessica whispered as she sat beside him.

“What?” He tore his eyes from the headmaster manning the ceremony to look her way. They had determined this when Jess had broken up with him a couple weeks prior, Tony had almost been relieved he wouldn’t have to break her heart. Jessica was of a rare breed; kind to a fault and sharp as a tack. Tony hadn’t wanted to live on in her heart as any form of regret.

“We’re still friends, Tony.”

“‘Course we are, Bun,” he teased, the old nickname slipping into the sentence without his permission. “‘Til the very end.” It wasn’t a lie at least, not really. He didn’t want to lie to her, not ever.

“If you’re not leaving Swynlake then—”

“Don’t worry about it, Jess,” Tony cut her off, not wanting to know where that sentence was going. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll figure it out.” Just because she was figuring it out without him didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to assuage her fears. He reached over to give her hand a short squeeze before returning it to his own lap.

They had been each other’s support system over this short time together. The long nights at work and the longer nights in his flat reading comic books while a record spun in the background. The hushed and reverent voices mingling in the dark as the two tired teens just allowed themselves to unwind from the pressures that threatened to break down their doors.

“Love you, Bun,” he admitted, glancing at her face for a fraction of a second. He tried not to seek what emotion was shining there before turning his attention back to the headmaster.

“Congratulations, Class of 2003,” came the headmaster’s voice booming over the speakers. “You did it!”

He’d see her again, just under different circumstances.

Ah, there were the tears once again and Tony chuckled at his sappy self. Haechan turned their face to raise a brow at him but he ignored their questioning expression. It would be alright, Tony told himself. He wasn’t alone, he was determined to believe it. He thought about Ian at home, the journals placed out upon the table ready to inform him of Tony’s existence once again. If it had worked once it had to work again... right?

When his row’s time came, Tony stood from his seat, walking across the stage as he always did. He knew every step, knew every creak in the stage floor that the attendant eyes of the crowd wouldn’t hear but still brought a bit of cringe to him so he avoided it easily. It wasn’t long, then, for when his name would be called. He walked across the stage, hearing a couple cheers for him despite the announcer saying not to cheer until the very end. No one ever listened to that announcement when their kid got called.

After being handed another diploma Tony thanked the headmaster as he always did and retreated back to his seat. This diploma was one of many and he just sighed as he realized it would go into that box beneath his bed like all of the others where it would collect dust unless—until—Tony and Ian broke the curse.

“Congratulations, Class of 2021,” came the headmaster’s voice booming over the speakers. This time breaking him of his reverie. “You did it!”

‘Maybe this time,’ Tony thought with a hint of optimism in his heart. ‘I don’t think that I’ve broken the curse, not by a long shot, but maybe... just maybe... I’ve actually managed to accomplish something. A family. A life.’

#this hurt me #[ graduation ] #[ s. graduation flashbacks 2k21 ] #[ tany ] #[ phony ] #[ treg ] #[ tess ] #[ inspo ]

[abraxos-the-phantom]

Scum Disciple: Alpha Stage

Alpha, described by google as "...an exploratory phase. Beta means the features have been locked down and are under development (no other features will be added). More commonly: Alpha: Usually the first normally interact-able thing out (private or public use is irrelevant)."

And here are some of the highlights that I liked from the first few versions lol.

Fun Times in Gusu

Lan Xichen walked to quite a strange sight.

While normally he would have greeted the younger Nie with a smile, the image of the famous Wei Wuxian pouting as YunmengJiang’s young master and QingheNie’s second master grinned was a little too ridiculous for him to process without chuckling.

“We both know you aren’t actually going to tell Ming-shixiong,” Nie Huaisang chuckled at the shifted to pat the other.

“Yeah,” Wei Wuxian sighed. “I’m worried though.”

Jiang Wanyin had raised his eyebrow, making quite the image as he looked over his crossed arms, “You’re worried about your brother? QingheNie Sect’s Monster Head disciple? The Youngest Rogue Cultivator in the Generations? The Peerless Prodigy? I think you’re a little delusioned Wei Wuxian.”

Wei Wuxian’s nose crumbled at that, “They really call Gēge that? Such lame names.”

“I think brother called him the Crane Dragon once,” Nie Huaisang added. “When you and Ming-shixiong went on a Night Hunt.”

Wei Wuxian shook his head, “Forget it, that’s not what I’m worried about- it’s just. Gēge has never let me on my own like this before. He gets antsy.”

Nie Huaisang pursed his lips, “I can understand but- A-Xian, you’re one of his best students.”

“He just- he gets this look sometimes,” Wei Wuxian sighed. “He doesn’t talk about it but sometimes he looks at me and I’m pretty sure he’s seeing something else. I never asked because he always looks sad after.”

“Didn’t you grow up together?” Nie Huaisang frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ming-shixiong with anyone else besides the three of us but the other disciples.”

“He’s never talked to anyone except father, mother, myself, sister, and some of the disciples at our sect,” Jiang Wanyin said in agreement. “You guys didn’t meet anyone when your Brother was still Rogue?”

Wei Wuxian shook his head in Jiang Wanyin’s direction, expression slightly pinched still, “I wouldn't remember, and I know we’re close- but there’s some stuff I know he hasn’t told me. You guys realize that my brother is nineteen?”

Jiang Wanyin blinked, as well as several other disciples who were not so covertly listening into the conversation about the mysterious prodigal Cultivator of the QingheNie Sect. “He seems much older, I didn’t think anyone knew his actual age.”

Because that was the curiosity wasn’t it, for all that he was well-known, there was never truly anyone who knew Wei Ming, because he would never actually say anything about his past save for vague hints. One could ask Wei Wuxian of course, but the latter had the same result because of the mere fact that Wei Wuxian didn’t know much about his older brother either beyond his personality, likes and dislikes. Any years before Wei Ming had lived with his brother was knowledge he couldn’t even forget because he never knew in the first place. Nie Mingjue never asked, and neither did Nie Huaisang. It took Wei Ying meeting other children to realize that nine-year-olds never talked the way Wei Ming did. They didn’t know facts about monsters, and they certainly never talked about demons. Yet Wei Ming had extensive knowledge since who knows how long, and no one ever questioned it.

Whether that was because Wei Ming knew how to subvert the conversation or because they simply never asked, that was a question no one could really answer. Not even Wei Wuxian, for all that he loved his Gēge, knew where to start.

Sensing the sudden dip in Wei Wuxian’s mood, Nie Huaisang brightened as much as he could, “Well it doesn’t even matter does it? He’s your brother, he’s my teacher- and he scares my brother to boot.”

Wei Wuxian laughed, if a little weakly, “He told me he actually enjoys it a little.”

Jiang Wanyin winced, “Isn’t your brother known to your Sect as the Punisher?”

With an enthusiastic nod from both Nie Sect members, they proceeded to scare everyone else by saying, “300 copies of Consequence, 200 paces across the hills and back in three days and patrolls in three of the Qinghe protected lands by the end of two weeks!”

They silently cackled as the other Sect disciples paled at the prospect.

<page break heyho>

After gently teasing Wangji of his interaction with Wei Wuxian, Lan Xichen bid his brother a good night as he suddenly remembered what he had sought the older Wei out for. The technique he used was quite unique and not among any technique he had some knowledge of, though granted it could purely be because he himself was not well learned in any but the Lan Sect style. Regardless, he was hoping to have a discussion about it and to possibly inquire if the older Wei would use his expertise to critique his own swordsmanship.

He was just about to do just that before he heard an audible thunk and grunt of pain from within the room Wei Ming had been assigned for his stay here.

Lan Xichen abruptly opened the door out of instinct, blinking in surprise to find Wei Ming wielding a brush in his hand and a paper in the other, dark eyes roving the entire wooden table with apprehension.

“Mn?” Wei Ming looked up with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, Zewu-jun. I was under the impression you had retired for the night.”

“I had initially been hoping to discuss swordsmanship with you before,” Lan Xichen looked at the papers, elegant calligraphy lining each and every one save for the large stack of paper at the corner of the table. “I admit, however, that this seems to take my interest far more at the moment.”

“Ah, well.” Wei Ming gestured to the papers. “These are lesson plans, notes if you will- but plans all the same.”

“...Lesson plans?”

Wei Ming nodded seriously, “It’s important for a teacher to understand what they are teaching every day, so as not to leave anything important out.”

“Ah…apologies, considering the subject you are teaching I thought-”

“To be fair, the material I’m teaching does require less theory than practical. Had I been teaching something akin to a bestiary subject or perhaps even medicinal practices, I wouldn’t be as extensive as this,” Wei Ming once again gestured to the large stacks. “This is not the case however, as I am teaching fighting techniques. I also have to come up with tests and exams, sort the students into pairs for sparing purposes, note everyone’s strengths and weaknesses, formulate proper lectures concerning the techniques I am teaching- that sort of thing. Besides the fact that I’m considering adding other techniques so that my students are well informed.”

Though granted the stuff he was doing was easier than when he had been Qing Jing Peak’s head disciple, the paperwork for that Sect was monstrous because of the additional lessons for music and the tactitionary course. Both were a requirement as a disciple of Qing Jing, as they were the main jack of trades within Cang Qiong as their roles were both in support and primary fighters when it came to battles. This was especially true during the pseudo war between Lou Binghe’s forces and during the battle with Tianlang-jun. Shizun would normally do most of the work but with the absence of Lou Binghe, a lot of it arrived to Ming Fan and he didn’t have the heart to inquire about it.

After Binghe’s return Ming Fan just never thought to question it anymore, Shizun was happy and he got used to the workload. It wasn’t as if he never had help either, he took charge of the male disciples while Ning Yingying took charge of the females. After Lou Binghe soon took up some work every now and then; it’s just the way things were after...After.

Wei Ming blinked after returning from his thoughts, “Hundreds of apologies, may Zewu-jun repeat himself?”

Lan Xichen smiled, “Of course, I only wished to ask if you would be open to giving me advice on my swordsmanship? Nie Mingjue mentioned before that your advice had helped him improve his saber technique and I would very much like to also improve myself now that the opportunity is open to me.”

“Or perhaps Xichen-ge would not like to be left behind by his dîdi?” Wei Ming said with an amused smile.

At this Lan Xichen’s ears colored slightly even as he smiled neutrally, “That is also a motivation, but I believe no brother would want their younger brother to leave them behind.”

“Very well, when Zewu-jun is free; we shall spar.” Wei Ming’s lips quirked. “I would also like to know if my observations are correct.”

“Let us have this spar soon Teacher Wei, thank you for your time.” Lan Xichen stood and dipped his head slightly before exiting with a final ‘good night’.

<page break hey-ho>

“Gege what are you doing?”

Wei Ming was currently in the Lan Sect library, pouring over old books that amused him and greatly reminded him of some of the brighter moments in his past life. Namely: The Resentment of Chunshan. The book itself was poor in terms of accuracy, but amusing nonetheless. He and the other disciples found themselves horrified and amused by the story described within. Even more so when the Song of BingQiu became popular among the locals.

He was also starring an old map of the land, clearly looked into by someone considering the small hand-written notes in black ink. The penmanship was oddly familiar but Wei Ming couldn’t exactly remember where.

There was also an area circled, the name Cang Qiong Sect written in careful script.

“What do you think?” He asked absentmindedly, fingers brushing over the circled area. It was far from the other Sects, inaccessible due to the mountain ranges that circled it. If one tried, they’d have to do so by climb rather than sword. The air would be thinner; challenging even for a Cultivator.

He vaguely wondered if the land had changed so much as to the sudden growth of mountains around the Cang Qiong Sect area.

“Looks like someone was trying to look for the mythical Cang Qiong Sect,” Wei Ying peered over his brother’s shoulder. Tilting his head at the map. “Weird.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Eh,” Wei Ying shrugged as he sat next to him. “Cause it’s just a legend, no one actually knows if the Cang Qiong Sect is still around. If it ever was around. I mean- demons, the War- it’s described in pretty poetry and details, but other than that- most people write it off as a fantasy since no one’s ever seen it.”

Wei Ming considered the next question carefully, “What do you believe?”

“I think there’s some truth to it,” To himself, Wei Ying vaguely wondered why the sudden inquiry. His brother had no interest in the stories that were normally told to children, he had been busy at the time and Wei Ying only knew of it because the Nie Brothers held a rather large collection of the stories of the illustrious Cang Qiong Sect and one of their most famous Lords: Shen Qingqiu. Nie Huaisang had admitted that most of these were his brother’s, and he himself was promptly amused. Now he was starting to wonder. The stories of the Cang Qiong Sect were often used for the children of Cultivators as lessons, Lan Sect used it too if what was in the library was any indication- it was an impressive collection.

Though it did have nothing on Sect Leader Nie’s secret collection of nearly all the tales of the General from Qing Jing Peak: Huázháo-jun.

“Hm, perhaps,” Wei Ming noted non-committedly, shaking his head. “Let’s talk about what to do for tomorrow.”

“Mn! You should teach-“

[Fun fact about this one up here! In this version of the story, MF brings WWX's body up through the mountains to Cang Qiong Sect in the hopes that he could get help in reviving his brother, thereby re-meeting with his fellow disciples of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect]

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 9 - ao3 -

Lan Qiren was groggy with lack of sleep the next morning, but an evening’s contemplation of the Lan sect’s rules had put him back into the right mindset.

As a disciple of the Lan sect, he was entitled under the rules for his elders to remember do not disrespect your juniors just as he was required to respect and obey your elders. Pursuant to the rules, he should have the protection of his sect and their support, and if what he had was imperfect, it was at least something; for every Lan Ganhui that mocked him, there was a Lan Yueheng that encouraged him, and there were plenty of teachers that preferred him over all the others.

As for his brother – Lan Qiren should not hold his anger against him. He had been acting in the best interest of the sect, seeking to obtain benefits for what had been lost; he had thought throughout the trip that Lan Qiren had given up more than just his word of honor, but had refrained from punishing him accordingly. In the end, even his father had assigned him only to kneel, which was a milder punishment by far than he deserved for all his mistakes and insolence.

More than that, his brother was right: Wen Ruohan would be bound by his own word of honor and public reputation to treat Lan Qiren with dignity, and by endorsing the relationship rather than rejecting it, his sect was indicating that they would hold Wen Ruohan to his word. His father had appropriately expressed concern on Lan Qiren’s behalf, his brother had refuted those concerns with well-reasoned logic; it was inappropriate for Lan Qiren to take such an intellectual discussion to heart.

That he had – and that he had forgotten, even temporarily and in the privacy of his own head, the rule do not argue with family for it does not matter who wins – was merely evidence once again that Lan Qiren was inferior to his brother, who through keeping a cool head had enabled their sect to turn what could have been an embarrassment into a victory.

As for his father…Lan Qiren shouldn’t have been surprised, that’s all. Hadn’t years and years taught him that fathers only gave what they chose to give and no more? He had long ago learned that his father was kind and noble and equitable, concerned with all the Lan sect disciples (but for his dearly beloved eldest) in the same way and the same manner; being disappointed to receive that and nothing more was only his own foolishness.

(He only wondered, in passing, why it had been his father’s glacial voice that had scared him so, compared to the familiar warmth of his brother’s anger.)

So fortified and reassured, Lan Qiren returned to the regular flow of daily life at the Cloud Recesses.

It was not easy. As his brother had predicted, rumors about his sworn brotherhood with Wen Ruohan sprang up at once, and many of his fellow disciples were prone to staring at him when they thought he wouldn’t notice. The teachers handed out many punishments for breaking the prohibition about talking behind people’s backs, although with a certain leniency that made Lan Qiren suspect that they themselves toed the line of that particular rule behind closed doors.

The rumors themselves were split between those that theorized that Wen Ruohan had used nefarious means to entrap Lan Qiren and force him to agree to brotherhood – the Fire Palace was mentioned often, as were various theoretical misapplications of cultivation techniques of dark and unsavory natures – and those that skipped over the how of brotherhood and went straight to speculating as to the why, which typically also involved a variety of references to misapplied cultivation techniques, this time of the sort most often found exclusively in certain types of low-brow spring books.

Someone even suggested that Wen Ruohan intended on taking Lan Qiren to bed as a cauldron, which was the stupidest idea out of the whole lot.

“Of course that can’t be true,” Lan Qiren patiently explained to Lan Yueheng, who had come to collect his geometry book. As a gesture of thanks for his support, Lan Qiren had read the whole thing and sent an annotated list of questions and comments; Lan Yueheng had practically turned pink with excitement when he’d seen it and then secluded himself for two days to write a response. Lan Qiren still didn’t see the appeal of geometry, but he’d managed to coax Lan Yueheng into a discussion of the mathematics of music theory, an area in which their particular interests overlapped, and he had hope of a fruitful dialogue continuing into the future. “At least traditionally, cauldrons are individuals with high cultivation potential that has yet to be developed – raw natural talent, in other words, which can then be refined into strength for another. My inborn talent is only moderate, even low, and my progress is primarily due to good resources and hard work. So even if someone put in the work to make me a cauldron, they wouldn’t get much out of me.”

Lan Yueheng nodded, his brow wrinkled thoughtfully. “So your brother would’ve been a better cauldron than you.”

“…that is correct, but please don’t say it.” Lan Qiren quietly pitied Lan Yueheng’s etiquette teachers, and spared a thought to hope that his cousin’s children, should he have them, would take more after whoever he married than him. Even if only because Lan Qiren hoped to become a teacher himself one day, and he was sure that Lan Yueheng’s particularly brash and un-Lan-like bluntness would make for a terrible future student. “Perhaps it would be more helpful for you to think of it in the sense of energy transfers of heat? I’m already cold, so to speak, so he wouldn’t be able to draw out much heat from me.”

“Wait, if you’re cold and Sect Leader Wen is hot, would that make him the cauldron? Assuming you ever did dual cultivate.”

Lan Qiren pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s...not how that works, Yueheng-xiong. At all. I was merely attempting to use a metaphor to clarify the issue. Clearly I failed and only confused things further.”

Lan Yueheng shrugged. “At least you try,” he remarked. “And when you fail, you try again, doing something different. It’s better than the teachers who just do the same thing every time and blame you for being as bemused on the seventh repetition as you were on the first.”

Lan Qiren felt his ears go red at the compliment. “You’ve been here too long,” he reminded his cousin. “Your parents won’t be happy to see you spending too much time with me.”

“My parents don’t care. It’s my aunt and uncle who don’t like it. They say that people might start asking if I cultivate as a cauldron too –”

“Your parents listen to your aunt and uncle, so if they don’t like it, you shouldn’t disobey them. The rules say Be a filial child.”

“They also say Do not form cliques to exclude others, but that isn’t stopping the other disciples from playing favorites, is it?”

That was definitely one of the rules more honored in the breach, Lan Qiren thought with a sigh. But what could be done, when their elders did the same? The sect followed the example of its leader, and his father’s tendency towards favoritism were well known, albeit one that was widely indulged as a quirk rather than condemned as a serious flaw. 

“I will remind the teachers of that one,” he said. “Perhaps a refresher would be suitable, to remind people. But the rule are meant for your own discipline, not others, and – ”

“Just because other people aren’t following the rules doesn’t mean I shouldn’t, I know,” Lan Yueheng said with a sigh of his own. “I’ll go…oh! It’s getting late. Weren’t you supposed to go to the guest’s pavilion by the western watchtower already?”

Lan Qiren blinked. “I don’t have that patrol route in my schedule until the end of the week.”

“No, no! I was supposed to tell you! Lao Nie’s come to visit, and –”

There were rules against running in the Cloud Recesses, so Lan Qiren was slightly late despite his best efforts, but true to form Lao Nie didn’t admonish him: he only turned from where he was sitting in the pavilion and smiled, calling out, “Qiren! There you are!”

“Forgive –”

“Forgiven,” Lao Nie interrupted before Lan Qiren even got the first word out. Lan Qiren was relieved to see that there was neither food nor tea already prepared; he would have been mortified if it had grown cold while Lao Nie was waiting to see him. “And don’t bow, either. How have you been? Tell me people aren’t harassing you over the nonsense with Hanhan.”

Lan Qiren opened his mouth, then hesitated.

“Do not tell lies,” Lao Nie observed, grimacing. “Ah, Qiren! Sometimes your brother’s worse than useless. It’s a pity, really, I hadn’t realized – well. At any rate, I’ve been bothering him for weeks to tell me about you and he wouldn’t say a word.”

“He was angry at me for messing up the conference,” Lan Qiren explained.

Lao Nie’s eyebrows arched. “You mean the conference where the Lan sect got first place in both major events and then extracted serious concessions from the Wen sect in a completely unexpected and nearly inexplicable political coup that got the whole cultivation world talking in awe at your political acumen? That conference?”

“I lost face for him. He thought – well, he’d thought it was worse than it was,” Lan Qiren hesitated. “He’s not the only one.”

Lao Nie huffed. “People are, by and large, stupid,” he declared. “Don’t let them get to you. They’ll change their tune soon enough.”

Lan Qiren wasn’t so sure. “They say a reputation is like a porcelain vase,” he said, unable to conceal his worries in the face of someone actually expressing concern rather than curiosity. His dream was to be a traveling cultivator, and that would be much easier with a good name, which he had always had before – good, or at least boring, which was just fine with him. He preferred to be boring! It had never occurred to him that he might do something that would render him the subject of gossip; it had never happened before. “Once cracked…”

“Right now, there’s only some bored people speculating that there might be a crack,” Lao Nie said. His confidence was contagious; Lan Qiren couldn’t help but relax a little in the face of it. “No one’s actually sure about it, and they’re willing to hear otherwise – things aren’t yet so bad. Don’t worry. I’ve spoken with Hanhan about it already.”

Lan Qiren felt his ears burning in shame. “Lao Nie! You didn’t!”

Especially since that would undoubtedly only make Wen Ruohan even more angry…

Lao Nie laughed and put his hand on his head, rubbing it lightly. “I did. Not in your name, but rather his own – do you think the Wen sect wants to get a reputation for being led by a man with an unhealthy interest in noble-born children? It’s in his interest to get this cleared up as much as you.”

Lan Qiren felt the tension rush out of his shoulders all at once. That hadn’t occurred to him, but now that Lao Nie had pointed it out, it was clear enough.

After all, for all the talk going around about Lan Qiren, it was widely agreed that he was clearly the victim in whatever scenario they’d thought up, whether through having his oath extracted under torture or by force; even among those who theorized that Wen Ruohan intended to use him as a cauldron, the reputation Lan Qiren might get would be, at worst, that of a seductive flirt who couldn’t be resisted. Lan Qiren’s brother had scoffed audibly the first time he’d heard that, saying that such a rumor would naturally be dispelled the moment anyone came in contact with Lan Qiren for more than a moment, and in all honesty Lan Qiren agreed with his assessment. He had the classic Lan sect looks, yes, but so did many others, and he had a demeanor as stern as a schoolmaster, giving off the feel of an old man even though he wasn’t even of age.

Meanwhile, for Wen Ruohan, the consequences were undoubtedly more dire – if he was said to have a taste for boys, especially noble-born ones, the other sects might be afraid to send their sons around him. It was a different reputation by far than his taste for torture, or his supposed use of dark and forbidden cultivation; those would make people fear him, while lusting for children would only make people disdain him.

Still, Lan Qiren wasn’t sure how exactly even someone of Wen Ruohan’s cunning would go about fixing such a mistake – and that was putting aside why he would make such a mistake over Lan Qiren in the first place. He hadn’t had a chance to explain to his brother his theory that Wen Ruohan had acted just to irritate Lao Nie, and in the end he’d decided it wasn’t worth drawing his brother’s attention back to the subject.

Besides, if Lan Qiren could figure it out, with his notorious inability to understand interpersonal affairs, then surely his brother was more than able to do the same. It wasn’t as if Lao Nie were being shy about it…

“Hanhan said he had something in mind,” Lao Nie was saying, shaking his head. “He usually does, I find, and each idea’s more awful than the next.”

Lan Qiren shifted a little from one foot to the other. “If you know he’s awful, why do you…” he hesitated. “I mean, you call him – an endearment.”

“Oh, he’s a little awful, no doubt,” Lao Nie said, sounding rather fond. “But as long as it’s not my sect, what do I care? Anyway, Qiren, you shouldn’t worry. If there’s one thing you can trust with Hanhan, it’s that he takes care of anything associated with himself.”

Lan Qiren didn’t really like the fact that he was now counted among that number.

It didn’t seem all that safe.

“Though of course that doesn’t protect him from you,” Lao Nie added, suddenly smirking, and Lan Qiren blinked owlishly at him. “Apparently, you’re a very talkative drunk.”

Lan Qiren’s face burned red.

“And effusive, too! According to Hanhan, even after you forced him down in his seat to keep listening to you, you kept waving your hands around while you were talking and knocking things over; he had to pin you down to keep you from destroying things by accident.”

That would explain the marks on his arms.

“Apparently, you didn’t appreciate him doing that and kneed him right in the –”

“You really think he can make the rumors go away?” Lan Qiren hastily interrupted, rubbing the back of his neck a little as if it would make the heat of hideous embarrassment go away. That tallied up a little too well with the physical evidence to be anything other than accurate. “There’s – a lot of them. And I’d like to have a clean reputation.”

“You will,” Lao Nie said, thankfully distracted from his mortifyingly plausible story. “Anyone who meets you will know at once that you’re a righteous and upstanding person.”

Lan Qiren liked that better than the way his brother had put it.

“It’s just that you haven’t had a chance to make your name in the cultivation world,” Lao Nie said. He sounded sure of himself. “You’ll do wonderful things one day, Qiren. I’ve no doubt.”

“I don’t want to do wonderful things,” Lan Qiren said, scowling. “I just want to travel around and help people.”

“Yes, I know,” Lao Nie said, and he sounded fond again, just the way he did when he was talking about Wen Ruohan, or even Lan Qiren’s brother. Truly, Lan Qiren thought to himself, the Nie sect had no idea how lucky they were to have him as sect leader. “Really, Qiren, it’s like I said: don’t worry about it. Now come, tell me what you’ve been studying recently.”

Lan Qiren had promised himself that he would reduce the amount of time he spent with Lao Nie on his occasional visits to the Lan sect, not wanting to risk inciting Wen Ruohan’s unreasonable anger and jealousy any further.

He would need to assign himself an appropriate punishment for breaking that promise, he thought, and sat down to start telling Lao Nie all about the work he was doing with one of his teachers on comparing the origin points of the various Lan sect rules, as well as his experiments on arrays to enhance open-air acoustics that would, he hoped, eventually be inscribed on all Lan sect instruments to increase the range and impact of their spell songs.

He even mentioned the possibility of a joint project on the mathematics of musical theory, and for whatever reason he thought Lao Nie looked especially pleased about that.

He didn’t think about Wen Ruohan at all.

#mdzs #lan qiren #sect leader nie #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls