#and nhs just smiles at him and is all what are you doing er-ge

[jaimebluesq]

I know you have a lot of WIPs, but if you're still taking requests, could you write a take on Nie Huaisang and Nie Mingjue's reunion after NMJ's release from Nightless City? Maybe NHS caring for his Da-ge? No Niecest sexytimes please, just two brothers who are each other's world. Thank you!

I'm always up for requests!!! And I read your request and was immediately in my head, thinking I had a WIP on that very topic - and I did! And I've just worked on it a bit more to flesh it out - still rough, so not ready for AO3 posting, but here's what I have of it so far :D

Warning: Nie Bros Feels ahead!

~ ~ ~

Nie Huaisang slowed his horse as he approached the Nie Sect's camp near Nightless City. He'd received word just over a day earlier that the war had ended, that the Sunshot campaign was victorious in taking out the evil of Wen Ruohan, and he'd quickly packed up a handful of items before saddling up his horse in the stables. Two other disciples had insisted on joining him to protect him along the roads, and the three of them had made record time reaching Qishan.

The closer they came to Nightless City, however, the more evidence of the war they saw. There were dead bodies everywhere wearing various shades of sect colours, defaced emblems and signs that had once stood proudly announcing the territory belonged to the Wen Sect, and large chunks taken out of the earth from the sheer power the cultivators had been using against one another. Once again he was thankful not to be a fighter, that he'd missed seeing all of this carnage up close and personal.

As he neared the camp, he saw a few disciples who appeared to be in good spirits. They recognized him immediately and helped him and his guards dismount, leading their horses away to be cared for after their hard journey. He asked the directions to his brother's tent and tried to make his way through the camp, though he was stopped every now and then by disciples calling out his name and asking him to share a toast with them to victory.

He paused when he saw a familiar face sitting by a nearby fire, hands running a sharpening stone over one of two sabers sitting in his lap. Nie Huaisang approached, making certain to step as noisily as possible before reaching out to place a hand on the man's shoulder.

“Nie-er-gongzi,” the man said before he even lifted his head, and when he did, he gave a half-smile up at Nie Huaisang. His eyes were weary with dark circles underneath, and there was a healing scar across his jaw on the left side, but otherwise he looked well.

“Nie Zonghui.” He didn't think it would be proper to say aloud I'm happy you survived, even if that's how he felt. “Of course you would be maintaining your weapons while the others are celebrating their victory.”

Nie Zonghui glanced over at a pair of disciples nearby who were doing just that with bottles of wine and joyful singing, and nodded. “They deserve it. They worked hard, everyone did.”

“As did you,” he said softly, patting Nie Zonghui's shoulder before taking his hand back. “Don't forget to rest and take care of yourself, or else I'll tell Da-ge.”

Nie Zonghui's expression shuttered. “You're on your way to his tent.” Nie Huaisang nodded. “Good. He's barely left it all day, and any of us who try to check on him get sent away.”

“Did something happen?”

“He led a group to infiltrate Nightless City while the rest of us were fighting outside.” Nie Zonghui paused, his voice turning rough. “There were... casualties.”

And knowing Nie Mingjue, he would be placing most of the responsibility for their loss on himself, no matter who committed the act. “Thank you for the warning.”

He left Nie Zonghui's side and reached the large, central tent at the same time as another disciple holding a tray with food upon it. The moment she set eyes upon him, she sighed in relief. “Nie-er-gongzi, it's good that you're here. I was just about to bring this to Nie-zongzhu's tent...”

“Has he eaten at all today?” She shook her head. He tried to offer her a small smile and took the tray from her hands. “I'll make sure he eats something.” She gave a quick bow and scurried away before he could change his mind and call her back.

He pulled the tent flap aside and walked in, wrinkling his nose at the scents of blood and metal and stale sweat. There was some light coming in from a small window flap, enough for him to see the space in disarray, a tray of uneaten food upon a low table, and there on the tent's lone cot, a large figure bent forward, head cradled in his hands and hair tangled around his guan. Nie Huaisang set the tray next to the other and tried to approach his brother carefully.

“Da-ge?” He tried to step as noisily as he had for Nie Zonghui, not wanting to startle his brother. “Da-ge, I'm here. I came as soon as I heard the news.

“You should have stayed at home.” Nie Mingjue's eyes only just flicked up to glance at him. “You didn't come alone, did you?”

“Of course not, Li Fengwei and Nie Yifong rode with me.”

“It's a long ride. You should get some rest.”

Now this wasn't acceptable. Nie Huaisang may not have been a good fighter, but he was excellent at acting like everything was normal, and sometimes that was what his brother needed. “But Da-ge,” he whined, stepping closer to his brother. “Yours is the best tent in the camp. I could use a nap, but I'd rather sleep here.”

Nie Mingjue lifted his head this time, giving Nie Huaisang a look that seemed to say Really? You're doing this now?

Ignoring his brother's glare, he flopped down onto the cot next to him, tried to ignore the smelliness of it all, and lay his head on Nie Mingjue's shoulder. “Ew, Da-ge, when's the last time you took a bath?”

“I've been a little busy,” his brother snarked back at him.

“No wonder you're so grumpy. If my hair was this bad, I'd be grumpy too.”

“Huaisang. You're free to leave.”

“Not happening.” He could see the beginnings of resignation in his brother's eyes and gave a short sigh of relief. “But I think this is where I can help.”

He got up briefly to search out his brother's comb, and was thankful to see a bowl of water and a washcloth nearby (likely dropped off by other disciples concerned for their sect leader). He brought everything over to the cot and placed them behind Nie Mingjue, then knelt up behind his brother.

The fact that Nie Mingjue had no other protests to issue spoke volumes.

He started by untangling the mess of hair from around his brother's guan so that he could remove it. The moment the guan left Nie Mingjue's head, there was a slight shift in the room – Nie Mingjue's shoulders dropped and he pressed his face into his hands again. Now they were no longer sect leader and heir, but brothers.

Nie Huaisang drew back his brother's braids and slowly began undoing them, setting aside the decorations in a safe place. He took his time, slowly running the comb through his brother’s hair and using the washcloth to scrub away any remaining dirt and viscera from the battles. He occasionally spoke aloud to keep the room from going silent, muttering about the long ride to Qishan or expressing his concern that Nie Zonghui wouldn’t allow himself to rest until all the other disciples did.

By the time he was finished, his brother’s shoulders were shaking, and Nie Mingjue took in a sharp breath that wasn’t quite muffled by his hands.

“How many did you lose?” he asked gently, setting the comb aside.

“Too many,” Nie Mingjue whispered back.

Nie Huaisang was reminded of when he was nine years old, and his brother had taken over as sect leader. There had been a night hunt and something had gone wrong, and the party his brother led had returned two disciples short. Nie Mingjue had put on a brave front until his people were cared for, then had retreated to his room and collapsed on his bed. Nie Huaisang had been too young to do more than crawl into his Da-ge’s bed and curl up beside him, but eventually his brother had cried out his pain at having lost his first disciples, and Nie Huaisang had held him until it was over.

Over a decade later, and Nie Huaisang only felt slightly more capable of helping his brother.

“Do we have their sabers?” he asked gently, and his brother nodded. It had always been a Nie tradition that, even if the bodies could not be returned to Qinghe, that every disciple’s saber was brought back.

Nie Mingjue breathed again into his hands. “I failed them.”

“And how do you think you failed them? The men and women outside don’t look like disciples who were failed by their sect leader.”

“I should never have led them into Nightless City,” Nie Mingjue’s voice shook. “I should have known it wouldn’t go well, that-” He gasped, then pressed his lips tightly together.

Nie Huaisang didn’t know what his brother wasn’t saying, he only knew that he was glad his brother had made it out alive. “You’re not a god, Da-ge, no matter what the disciples think. There’s no way you could know everything. You did the best you could – you would do nothing less – and you made it out and back to us.”

Nie Mingjue shuddered. “I wish I hadn’t.”

His face growing wet at his brother’s admission, Nie Huaisang leaned forward to wrap his arms around his brother’s neck. “You don’t mean that,” he sniffed into his brother’s ear. “You’re upset, but you don’t mean that, because then you’d be leaving me all alone, and you said you would always protect me.”

His brother reached up to grab one of Nie Huaisang’s hands, and he thought he brother was going to shove him away – instead, his brother simply gripped his hand where it rested under his chin.

“I watched them die,” he hissed. “One by one, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.”

“But you can remember their names,” he replied. “You can tell their stories, make sure they’re remembered for their bravery and their loyalty.”

Nie Mingjue didn’t reply, but he made a low keening sound as his head lowered further.

“They knew what it meant, going into battle,” he whispered to his brother. “Everyone in our sect, from the disciples to the kitchen staff, know that something might happen one day and we will be gone, us more than any other sect. Everyone knows, and they accept it, and they still will follow you into death and beyond – because they know you would do the same for them.”

Nie Huaisang held his brother in the silence of the field tent until he was no longer shaking in his arms. He pulled back to fetch the washcloth and offered it to his brother, and was thankful when Nie Mingjue began running it along his still dirty and tear-stained face. He then went to retrieve the food tray – the rations were nothing fancy but would fill them all the same. He somehow convinced his brother to eat with him, and they shared a meal for the first time since Nie Mingjue had left for this final surge on Wen territory. By the time they were finished eating, Nie Mingjue looked like he was barely keeping his eyes open.

“All right, Da-ge, time for my nap,” he announced, crawling onto the bed like he was ten years old again and curling up next to his brother, settling his head on Nie Mingjue’s large thigh. And much like when he was a child, his brother’s hand idly ran along his hair as if he were trying to comfort Nie Huaisang rather than the other way around.

Eventually, Nie Mingjue fell asleep where he sat on the bed, and Nie Huaisang guarded his brother’s sleep from anyone who might dare disturb it.

#nie bros #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #lots of feels #post nightless city

[nova-appleade]

A Twitter thread fic I'm posting here! I hope you all like it!

Cw// Niecest, brother/brother Incest

Da-ge works so much, so hard. His muscles are always tight, and his core... well, his core has seen better days.

So, of course, Huaisang takes it upon himself to pamper Mingjue occasionally. Nmj does so much for Nhs, it's really the very least Nhs could do. Besides, they both enjoy these little moments between them.

Nmj is sitting in the bath with Nhs behind him, gently combing through the long black hair that Nmj rarely lets down like this. It's gentle, therapeutic for Nmj... it reminds him of the days when he was small and his mother would comb through his hair and twist it into braids for him.

Nhs's fingers are soft, long, nimble, much like his own mother's. With not a single callous or scar. Truly Nmj has been too soft on Nhs these past few years.

However, those are thoughts for another time. For really, when Nhs's fingers are tracing through Nmj's hair, evening it of its knots and tangles, pushing shampoo through the locks, any and all thought flies from Nmj's mind. He is truly content in these moments between them.

It's as if the world melts away and all that exists is Nmj and Nhs.

Nmj truly worries about so much from his usual day to day.

Nhs's heart aches for his brother. Nhs wants to help Nmj in any way possible. Nhs loves Nmj, truly.

So Nhs gently scrubs at Nmj's scalp, easing the soap into his skin and hair, smiling at the soft sounds that his Da-ge makes because it feels so good.

They don't do this often, but in the safety of their own privacy, they can truly be themselves with each other. No expectations from the Sect of how they should be, no judgmental looks, no responsibilities holding anyone back.

It is tender and pure, as pure as they both could be in this together.

Like normal, Nhs is the one to break the silence between them. "Da-ge...?"

"Hmm...?"

"Do you think I could get another bird?"

Nmj's eyes flicker open. "Huaisang..." He groans, a tired, strained sound from his throat.

"I mean it! My little a'Jue is lonely! You know birds need friends!" Nhs pouted in his usual way when he wanted something and Nmj was being difficult.

"I still can't believe you named that bird after me." Nmj rolled his eyes.

"But he looks just like you!"

"He's a bird."

"Yeah, that looks like you! Even Er-ge agrees!"

Another sigh escaped Nmj. He failed to see how a bird could look like him. "Are you trying to butter me up or make me angry?"

"Alright, alright..." Nhs was pouting again, something Nmj could hear in his voice, didn't even have to look at him to know it.

They sunk into a silence again, this one a bit more tense than before. Nhs hated silences like that between them, so he was soon talking again.

"What if I name the new bird after me? Then we can have a pair of tiny us's~" he smiled, playful.

"What would the purpose of that be?"

"Oh come on, it'll be cute! Don't you like cute things? Who doesn't like cute things, Da-ge?"

"Well I like you, so..." Nmj rolled his eyes.

Nhs pulled at a lock of hair particularly hard, causing Nmj to jump at the unexpected pain of it.

"Hey!"

"Sorry, sorry." Nhs smiled innocently.

"Sure..."

"I'm serious, you know!"

"About what?"

"Wanting a new bird, bone head!"

Nmj sunk into the bath, on the edge of defeat already. Once Huaisang decided he wanted something, it was hard, nigh impossible, to convince him otherwise. And Nmj was much too tired to argue with him right now.

"You don't need a new bird." Nmj uttered, to Nhs pulling his hair again. "Ow!"

"Are you not listening to me? A'Jue needs a friend! So yes, I do need one! For him!" Nhs gave Nmj a firm look, which was more of a pout, which was more cute than anything.

"Ugh... fine, fine. I'm too tired to do this with you right now."

"Thank you, Da-ge!" Huaisang smiled happily, as if a switch had been flicked in him upon hearing those words. He leaned down, tilting Nmj's head back so he could kiss his forehead, right in between his eyebrows.

"Mmhmm..." Nmj closed his eyes at the action. "You did this deliberately..."

"Oh nonsense! I love taking care of my Da-ge~"

"Uh huh..."

"I do. Truly..." Huaisang spoke, voice a gentle purr as he kissed his head again. "Sometimes I would just like a bird in return, though."

A joke, Nmj knew, and one that had him smiling at the ridiculousness of it. "Sure, Huaisang... anything you want..."

#niecest

[songofclarity]

Still thinking about that happy ending Nielan in post-canon post I made, and now with how Nie HuaiSang and Jin GuangYao are involved

(Although all of this could just be a general AU too, minus the end)

So Nie MingJue is reborn as the Crown Prince, which suits his no-nonsense behavior, his sense of justice, his morality, his refusal to be flattered, and his willingness to listen to opposite arguments. While he can't empathize with morally corrupt decisions that are at odds with his own, he is able to acknowledge their existence. He’s able to cool down his righteous anger. He is able to forgive. He is willing to pardon. All in all, the role suits him.

Nie HuaiSang was never dedicated to his cultivation, so he does pass away one night, warm and safe in his bed. The first Nie to go without a rain of bloodshed.

And he's reborn as Nie MingJue's beloved little brother once more.

As the youngest prince, Nie HuaiSang doesn't have to worry about fighting. He can enjoy the arts, collect his fans or whatever interest tickles his fancy this time around. He helps his oldest brother, who is still a little out of touch with hobbies outside his royal calling but he’s improving, as Nie HuaiSang would delight in court and all its finery. There is also no push for Nie HuaiSang to be a spare heir. There is another prince for that.

Let’s talk about Jin GuangYao. Poor, pitiful, conniving Jin GuangYao. In canon he grew up in a brothel and just about everyone made sure he never forgot it. As a child who should have been protected, he was the one trying to protect, and he was abused, and he was knocked down stairs for his mother and kicked down stairs for his father. He always felt like he had to climb and climb and climb, climb over people and climb over corpses, and even when he reached the top, all he could do was build more ladders. It was never high enough.

Which meant the fall was cataclysmic. He was caught in Nie HuaiSang’s net, cut open by Lan XiChen, and dragged back down to ground by Nie MingJue.

Jin GuangYao and Nie MingJue. You don't spend 100 years fighting and being torn apart in a coffin without that creating some sort of bond, wicked or no. Although his body was torn apart, Jin GuangYao's spirit is also one day suppressed and set free by the same music that frees Nie MingJue.

And Jin GuangYao is reborn -- as Nie MingJue's little brother. The second prince.

I know this might go against the karma cycle after all the wickedness Jin GuangYao pulled but LISTEN. Nie MingJue agreed to become sworn brothers with Jin GuangYao for two probable reasons: 1. Lan XiChen wanted it because they had a good, calming relationship once upon a time and 2. Nie MingJue got big brother powers over Jin GuangYao. Nie MingJue had wanted to guide Jin GuangYao back on the right path, but he failed.

So Jin GuangYao is reborn as Nie MingJue's little brother. And it's exactly the brotherhood Lan XiChen had wanted for them like those days at the Hejian front. The camaraderie, the peace, the support.

Nie MingJue, as his actual brother, now is the primary position to protect him, correct him, encourage him, guide him. No one is going to push Nie MingJue's little brother down the stairs or talk about him behind his back. Jin GuangYao isn’t throwing pity parties because Nie MingJue taught him to be strong and confident. Most of all, there's no Jin GuangShan for Jin GuangYao to seek respect from. Not even other conniving people at court can convince him into betrayal. Now there is only Nie MingJue, the most respectable person at court, even more respectable than their father. (Nie MingJue just radiates that confident Sect Leader authority that no one can identify and their father just can’t compare.) And Jin GuangYao earns Nie MingJue's respect without even trying because Jin GuangYao is, at heart, without years of abuse and greed and betrayal and revenge twisting him like a dirty rag, is actually be a good, intelligent, and hardworking person.

Jin GuangYao, the second prince, who is able to support his big brother Nie MingJue with official court matters. Nie MingJue listens to Jin GuangYao like no other. Their father has to recognize Jin GuangYao's capabilities whether he wants to or not (and why wouldn't he?) Even if Jin GuangYao is born to the second, third, or fourth wife, he’s still Nie MingJue’s little brother.

And if Jin GuangYao can be said to have a punishment in this reincarnation, it’s that he has no choice but to help take care of and look after Nie HuaiSang, the third prince, who does NOT hesitate to run to him with ALL his worries and problems. At the same time Nie HuaiSang is the little spider at court who knows everything even if there are witnesses who saw him doing nothing but painting birds all day. Nie HuaiSang knows things and tells second brother. Jin GuangYao hears things and takes action for eldest brother. All of this happens before Nie MingJue learns there was a problem.

Even if Jin GuangYao wanted to be like his old self, there is no way with the Nie brothers on either side. A little voice from the distant past tell him that betrayal will get him nothing in the end. A louder voice tells him that this is his family, and they love him, and he’s empowered by them.

A funny little aspect about this reincarnation is that while Nie MingJue recognized Lan XiChen in some dreamlike, red-string-of-fate kind of way, he has not been able to recognize his brothers for who they are. They are his brothers, his family, and he loves them. He doesn't know that Nie HuaiSang had once killed for him, or that Jin GuangYao had once killed him.

(Now they’ll both kill for him, together, as a team, not that either of them would ever admit it.)

And just imagine Lan XiChen's surprise to see these three particular men standing in a group, being brothers, with Nie MingJue commanding order and Nie HuaiSang hiding behind Jin GuangYao and Jin GuangYao also cowering but grinning, in no way strained, in no way afraid.

Nie MingJue, noticing Lan XiChen's expression: What is it? What's wrong?

Lan XiChen: Hm?

Nie MingJue: You look like you want to cry.

Lan XiChen: I wasn't expecting... this. I'm happy for you. For all of you.

Nie MingJue: Do you know them?

(What he means is: do you know them like you know me, from the past?)

Lan XiChen, smiling: Yes. They are your brothers.

#nie mingjue #nie huaisang #jin guangyao #lan xichen #mdzs thoughts #not as much nielan in this one #but still very important #jgy being the worst but i still somehow want nice things for him UGH #subplot where jgy starts to veer off the right path #and nhs just smiles at him and is all what are you doing er-ge #jgy feels like someone just walked over his grave #nhs getting to be the sweet ill brother with the happy family he deserves #nmj getting all the support and softness he deserves #jgy getting all the healthy found family now actual family he deserves #lan xichen getting happiness and the happiness of his loved ones like he deserves

[robininthelabyrinth]

Now that NHS revenge quest of the past decade is over, he wants friends again. He decides to start with an equally lonely person, Jiang Cheng, who does not have a say in the matter.

ao3

“We’re not friends,” Jiang Cheng said.

“Aren’t we?” Nie Huaisang asked. He didn’t show any shame at having unexpectedly come to visit or at being turned away; instead, he just tapped his fan against his lower lip. “Really? I hadn’t the slightest notion.”

Jiang Cheng felt a shiver go down his spine, which he hadn’t really expected. It was Nie Huaisang, after all, and even if he’d somehow turned out to be a lot more than anyone would’ve expected, well, how dangerous could he really be?

“And to think! For all these years, I’ve been giving you the friend discount.”

Jiang Cheng stiffened. “The…friend discount?”

“Yeah! On all of the trade between our sects, or which our sects enable. All those trade routes and merchants, the tariffs and taxes, the cultivation base materials, the food…”

Jiang Cheng felt cold. Qinghe under Nie Huaisang wasn’t the cultivation powerhouse it had been under Nie Mingjue, but it was still incredibly powerful, a full-on Great Sect, and moreover one of the most practically minded ones: they had their fingers in every merchant’s guild, every serious artisan’s house, every major farm…and loans, of course. Nie Mingjue had been very generous, and set very favorable terms for both trade and repayment all the way back when Jiang Cheng had been rebuilding his sect, and Nie Huaisang had never altered them.

Jiang Cheng’s yearly budget depended on those terms.

“Such a pity,” Nie Huaisang said, and sighed. “Well, it’s all right. If we call due the notes on your dyer’s guilds, we’ll have the money for an amazing New Year’s ceremony.”

The Jiang sect relied heavily on their dyers’ guild – Jiang Cheng had rebuilt the Lotus Pier in large part with their income and their help. In turn, the dyers had been a little extravagant recently, living a little beyond their means in order to take advantage of the current good times; if their debts were called in, they would turn to the Jiang sect and demand help, and he’d have no choice but to honor that.

His treasury would be emptied, and he might need to call in his own debts, and that would be catastrophic to the Jiang sect’s reputation as a Great Sect.

“Wait,” he said.

Nie Huaisang smiled at him. The smile had teeth.

“…I misspoke,” Jiang Cheng said, teeth gritted together. “Of course we’re friends.”

“Oh? That’s great! Jiang-xiong!”

Jiang Cheng found himself in the uncomfortable position of being hugged by his blackmailer.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re doing this?” he eventually asked.

“Mm,” Nie Huaisang said. He hadn’t let go yet. “I’m lonely.”

Jiang Cheng closed his eyes briefly. “…perhaps it was that decade-long revenge quest that made people wary of you?”

“Maybe? Seems like an overreaction. I’m not that clever, really.”

“You just blackmailed me into being your ‘friend’.”

“Well, yes. But you don’t actually mind because being forced into it is the only way you’d accept that you’re worthy of being someone’s friend.”

Jiang Cheng opened his mouth, affronted.

“Go on, name one person that you’re friends with. Jin Ling doesn’t count.”

Wei Wuxian probably didn’t count either.

“That doesn’t mean I like being blackmailed!”

“No? Wasn’t that the entire basis of your relationship with san-ge?”

It really had been.

“And you mostly liked him.”

…he kind of had.

“So why not me, too?”

Jiang Cheng rubbed his forehead. “First you pick up his scheming, next you pick up blackmail…Do you want to be Chief Cultivator, too?”

“Do you?”

Jiang Cheng scowled at him.

Nie Huaisang arched his eyebrows at him. “I’m serious. Do you want it? You could have it. Jin Ling would back you, and so would I if it was what you wanted. Er-ge is in seclusion, I’m untrustworthy, and Jin Ling is too young – you’re a reasonable choice. The best choice, even.”

Jiang Cheng thought about it.

Then he actually thought about it.

“I would hate it,” he said, suddenly horrified. “I already deal with enough people as it is!”

Nie Huaisang patted him on the shoulder. “There, there. If you don’t want the job, you can support me and I’ll take it. As a favor to a friend.”

Jiang Cheng was pretty sure he’d just been manipulated into supporting Nie Huaisang’s bid to be Chief Cultivator, but he didn’t actually care because Nie Huaisang was right. He really was the most logical option – it was traditional for Chief Cultivator to be the sect leader of one of the Great Sects, and all the others were in fact not appropriate for the reasons Nie Huaisang had listed. If he didn’t get someone else to take the job, he’d be well and truly stuck with it!

“Hey, jiujiu, are you in – hey!” Jin Ling glared at Nie Huaisang. “What are you doing here?”

“Jin Ling!” Jiang Cheng snapped. “Be polite!”

“What? But –”

“Be polite! Sect Leader Nie is a friend of mine, and your elder, even if your social rank is the same. Don’t forget your manners!”

Jin Ling mouthed the word ‘friend’.

“We’re very good friends,” Nie Huaisang said virtuously. “I’m doing Jiang-xiong all sorts of favors.”

Like keeping people away from him.

Jiang Cheng nodded.

Jin Ling looked between them and, for some reason, turned bright red. “Jiujiu!” he exclaimed. “Why him?”

“…who else?” Jiang Cheng asked, slightly bewildered. “He’s the most suitable.”

It wasn’t like Lan Xichen could be Chief Cultivator from seclusion. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian weren’t qualified, not as anything more than a temporary role, and anyway they were too busy rolling around in their sheets to actually take the time to do the job properly. And it would be even more inappropriate for it to be someone from one of the smaller sects!

“But – but – but jiujiu…!”

Nie Huaisang started snickering.

“What is it now?” Jiang Cheng asked him, feeling long-suffering. “Some new way to get me over a barrel?”

“Jiujiu!”

Nie Huaisang was now laughing. “Jiang-xiong,” he said, wiping his eyes. “Jiang-xiong…would you like me to get my birth characters? To do it properly?”

“No!” Jin Ling exclaimed.

“What?” Jiang Cheng asked. “Why would you need –”

Belated understanding arrived.

“I’m not sleeping with him!” he howled. “A-Ling!”

“This will be a very good friendship,” Nie Huaisang said happily. “A very good one.”

#mdzs #jiang cheng #nie huaisang #jin ling #my fic #my fics

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

Imagine just how wonderful it would have been if, somehow, NHS was the one to stab JGY and kill him

And even more so if only the two of them were there

I know this changes a lot of dynamics but hear me out (gore tw):

Jin Guangyao's eyes widen before pain shoots through his body like an arrow. Huaisang's expression is struggling to remain neutral, but the edges of his mouth turn up slightly, and his eyes shine with murderous intent that Jin Guangyao had definitely seen before.

"Isn't this ironic, San-Ge..." This time, Huaisang lets a smile appear on his face, his tone light and satisfied, "You, the mastermind behind everything else, to have been outsmarted by the headshaker... who would have thought?"

The easygoing expression fades as if it was wiped clean off, his face darkening so much Jin Guangyao almost thinks he sees Nie Mingjue.

Maybe it's just the blood loss.

"All this time... you were behind everything!"

Huaisang twists the blade deeper and blood gushes out, painting his green robes red, like poppy petals on a grass field. His voice is low, anger and disgust and resentment twisting in his gut.

"Did you really think you'd get away with all this? Did you really think I'd fucking let you?"

He almost wants to slice Jin Guangyao's head off. Almost does it, slightly pulling the sword out but decides against it at the last second and jams it right back in.

Jin Guangyao wails, but cuts himself short. "So what now? What will you tell Er-Ge and everyone else? They'll know you killed me."

"So what?" A humorless laugh. "I know you forgot since I had to act like a fucking airhead around everyone for all these years, but I'm a sect leader. I'm untouchable. Who'd even be able to stand up to me? Lan Xichen's definitely going in seclusion, Jiang Wanyin has his own issues to deal with and your sect's going to be led by a teenager."

"Nobody will ever trust you again."

"It's not like they ever did. If anything..."

Finally, Huaisang retreats the blade and Jin Guangyao pathetically slumps to the floor. He doesn't miss the satisfaction in Huaisang's eyes.

"...Even if they'll all be suspicious of me, I'm their best bet right now or there'll be a power vacuum. You know what that means, don't you, San-Ge? Before the ground settles on your grave, I'll already have become Chief Cultivator. And I'll erase you from history."

With the tip of his sword, Huaisang lifts up Jin Guangyao's head by the chin. There's still hatred and disbelief there, but it's mostly the fear of death that Hiaisang sees. He seems infinitely pleased with it.

"In fact, you weren't even supposed to be here." A wicked grin, barely suppressing a laugh. "What could a son of a whore possibly know about being a sect leader?!"

Jin Guangyao screams, tries to protest, but Huaisang boldly pushes the sword to his neck, sinking a bit of it in the meat of Jin Guangyao's neck.

"What would the son of a whore know about the worth of someone like Da-Ge?!"

A wave of calm washes over Huaisang all of a sudden, retracting the sword to place it at the right side of Jin Guangyao's neck.

"And more importantly... how could the son of a whore measure up to me?"

"Kill me already, won't you?!" Jin Guangyao screams in a final effort, blood and tears sliding off his face. "What's the point to all of this?! You got what you wanted!"

Huaisang's face twists in mock sympathy. "Poor Meng Yao, huh... Humiliated to the end by the very kind of person he always despised. Aren't I so awful?"

Huaisang laughs again. "I got what I wanted, you say... how dumb can you be, Meng Yao? Do you think killing you is what I really want?"

"Isn't it?! Why go through all of this if-"

He feels the sword cut into his throat and feels blood trickle out - so he shuts up.

"I want Da-Ge alive. That's what I want." Huaisang coldly replies. "But I can't have that. You took it away from me. So I'll just settle with this instead. But keep in mind, Meng Yao - your life could never measure up to Da-Ge's. You could never measure up to him."

Before the final blow, Huaisang leans down, knocks Jin Guangyao's hat off his head with a smile. "The only person you can measure up to is your father. You're just as vile as him."

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #i am in a very nhs mood today so have this #its slightly gory so #gore tw #writing attempts

[tanoraqui]

There actually are enough good fics about postcanon tentative reforging of assorted pairs and even the whole of the Gusu Summer School No Brain Cell Trio to satisfy my niche itch, so pls enjoy these stray snippets of a fic I don't have to write:

Nothing would've happened if the cultivation conference wasn't at Cloud Recesses. But it was, Cloud Recesses with its pale stone and gracefully winding walkways and too many memories, including Lan Xichen sitting the whole thing out in seclusion somewhere... If it'd been at the Unclean Realm, Nie Huaisang would've been busy and if it'd been at Carp Tower the memories only would've been manageably bad, and if it was Lotus Pier or one of many smaller sects, it would've been...fine. Just fine.

But it was Cloud Recesses this year, this first conference since Jin Guangyao's downfall, and specifically it was half past ten at night, and Nie Huaisang was wandering the elegant pathways with a mostly full jar of wine in one hand. The previous jar, now entirely empty, had been left back in his room. He was a Nie, so he was only half as drunk as he'd always used to pretend at these things - but at least twice as drunk as he'd ever actually been.

After da-ge's death, of course. Before that, he used to get plenty drunk. Playfully drunk. With friends.

It would be a terrible idea for him to go appear on Lan Xichen's doorstep. Neither of them was ready for that yet.

So he appeared on Jiang Cheng's.

[ . . . ]

"Fine." Nie Huaisang pouted and turned. "I'll go ask Wei-xiong - "

And Jiang Cheng was easy, he was so easy, he'd always been easy, the only new thing is the faintest edge of wariness to his fury -

He grabbed Nie Huaisang's elbow in a flash and snapped, "Ugh, fine, I'll go - but I'm holding the wine."

Nie Huaisang laughed and handed it over. Jiang Cheng immediately took a deep swig.

[ . . . ]

It must've been a quiet night at the Jingshi. Wei Wuxian's sleeping robes didn't look the least bit hastily pulled on, and his lips were only the slightest bit red and puffy.

[ . . . ]

[for the record, this takes place in a book-show postcanon fusion wherein immediately post-Guanyin Temple, WWX and LWJ ran off to fuck in the bushes at least once a day for as long as possible, but in their absence, various sect leaders voted that Lan Wangji should be Chief Cultivator now, and alas some messenger caught up with them about six months into their honeymoon. Definitely caught them in flagrante delicto. Tragic for all. I’d probably communicate all this hereish somehow. It was definitely NHS who finally tipped someone off on how to actually find them.]

[ . . . ]

"Yes, yes, I'm coming," Wei Wuxian said, with a lidded look at Nie Huaisang, and Nie Huaisang burst into a giggles because the two most unequivocally lethal people he knew were afraid to leave each other alone with him, and it was satisfying to be recognized but also what's he going to do, personally? Cry at them? It'd taken him years to destroy Jin Guangyao, and at this point it'd take him months, if not years again to re-destroy the Yiling Patriarch, much less Sandu Shengshou. Especially when they both kept doing things like watching each others backs while pretending they weren't.

[ . . . ]

"Of course we need more!" Wei Wuxian declared. "This isn't even Emperor's Smile!"

[ . . . ]

"It's just a rat or something," Jiang Cheng scoffed.

"So?!" Wei Wuxian cried grandly. "Are we not noble cultivators? Is it not our duty to investigate this woman's complaint, and to slay whatever monster plagues her good inn’s wonderful cellar, whether deathly or monstrous or rodential it be?" He turned to Nie Huaisang and begged, "Help me out, Nie-xiong. You agree with me, right?"

Nie Huaisang clutched his cup against his chest, eyes wide, and shook his head in sharp jerks. "I don't know! I don't know!"

Wei Wuxian laughed and elbowed him in the side.

[ . . . ]

[while waiting for Wei Wuxian to send some sort of signal]

"You know I don't bear any grudge against Jin Ling, right?"

Jiang Cheng's impatient glare snapped to him, darkening with threat; his hand shifted on Sandu's hilt toward a drawing position. "What?"

"I don't bear any sort of grudge against Jin Ling," Nie Huaisang repeated, holding only the last jar of Emperor's Smile. "That's why you've been side-eyeing me all night, right? All conference." He took another sip (it really was the best!) and added recklessly, "If I wanted Jin Ling dead and disgraced, or all Carp Tower burned to ash, they already would be."

Sandu slid an inch out of its scabbard and Nie Huaisang watch it with fascinated curiosity. From a greater distance, he wondered if that was entirely healthy.

"What about Lotus Pier?" Jiang Cheng asked abruptly.

It took Nie Huaisang a blinking moment to focus on him.

"What about Lotus Pier?"

Jiang Cheng sat beside him on the cold earth and yanked the jar out of his hands, cruelly before Nie Huaisang could take another sip.

"Where's your grand terrible vengeance against me and mine? I get it, but if you're being honest for once right now, you could at least tell me when it's going to hit, and how."

"What?" Nie Huaisang pushed himself against his tree trunk, genuinely confused. "Why would i have a terrible vengeance planned against you?"

"I benefitted from Nie Mingjue's death, didn't I?" Jiang Cheng took another swig of wine of his own, and swung the jar illustratively. "My disciples have hunted in your territory while you 'weren't paying attention.' I absolutely fleeced you in that trade deal four years ago. And I worked with that bastard as much as anyone but Lan Xichen, especially on those damn watchtowers, and you broke him. So when's it my turn?" He pointed at Nie Huaisang, finger only wavering slightly. “If you fuck with Jin Ling, Wei Wuxian, or my sect, I will fuck you back.”

"You- oh, gimme that. Gimme. Gimme!" Nie Huaisang leaned forward and tried to grab the wine jar, and more importantly whined until Jiang Cheng handed it to him.

He stared at it for a moment, thrust it back and ordered, “Drink,” without letting it go, and once Jiang Cheng had dutifully tilted it back, pulled it back and slugged down the last swallows. He needed more alcohol for this much honesty, and so did Jiang Cheng.

He set the jar down very carefully, because the ground seemed to be moving, and leaned forward with even more care. He enunciated clearly, “Everyone fleeced me, and hunted in my territory, and I acsh- ass- let them. Why would I expect you to go looking for trouble with Jin Guangyao, when he had your heart locked in a box in his treasure room?”

Jiang Cheng, who was a respected master of all five arts but probably hadn’t actually read poetry for fun since an instructor had officially declared him as such, and who was himself at least a full wine jar in, squinted in angry confusion.

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes. “He had final say over where and how Jin Ling spent his time, and could’ve tried to poison him against you. What would you have even have done if I had come complaining?”

Jiang Cheng’s face only fell further, with the very sort of drunken moroseness Nie Huaisang was out here to avoid.

Nie Huaisang attempted to swap him sharply. He failed on both the swap and the sharpness. 

“Stoppit! Stop thinking you’re not useful! You weren’t! I needed to pry er-ge away from him and for that only Lan Wangji would work, and I needed someone to watch his back through thick and deadly thin, and to be so disruptive that even Meng Yao couldn’t...circle, sneaky, planning...”

They were waiting for the pulse of a light talisman from the other tunnel entrance, half a mile away. There was a small but very bright explosion. laced with resentful as well as spiritual energy.

“Motherfucker!” Jiang Cheng cursed, leaping to his feet and drawing Sandu in one hideously coordinated motion. 

“Just Lan Wangji, I think,” Nie Huaisang said, because Nie Mingjue himself couldn’t have stopped him. He groped for his own weapons - fan, check; wine jar - 

“Oh no!” 

“What?”  Jiang Cheng snapped, as he bent and dragged Nie Huaisang to his feet with one hand. (Hideously coordinated. Sword people, honestly...)

“He’s going to be so mad that we finished the wine without him!”

[ . . . ]

[three grown-ass men, two sect leaders and one Yiling Patriarch, flying at high speed through Caiyi Town on one sword, all screaming. Nie Huaisang is clinging to Wei Wuxian; Wei Wuxian is flinging to Jiang Cheng, a little bit to Nie Huaisang, and most importantly to a chicken, Jiang Cheng is flying the sword. There is a bedsheet draped over all of them from where they ran into a laundry line. It’s 2am. Again I say, all are screaming]

[ . . . ]

[it probably wasn’t a rat - not just one, at least. Wei Wuxian does something incredibly clever, possibly including a creative use of that bedsheet; Jiang Cheng singlehandedly defeats something in combat, probably after he and Wei Wuxian shove each other out of the way of blows without either of them acknowledging it. Nie Huaisang shoves them both under cover and then with perfect professionalism tells whoever came to check on the ruckus that they handled the problem exactly as planned with absolutely no involvement of alcohol, and the Chief Cultivator will foot the bill for the unfortunately absolutely necessary property damage. Overall, they did handle the problem, but the local cryptid they were chasing will only have its reputation swelled and its continued existence assumed by all locals. it is possible that they themselves made this cryptid up two decades ago, but idk how heavy-handed we want to be.]

[ . . . ]

Nie Huaisang was leaning heavily on Wei Wuxian by the time they got back to the guest quarters. He could hold his alcohol, he was a goddamn Nie, and frankly he’d had it adrenalined out of him at least twice this evening. But he’d also had rather a lot, and he didn’t have Jiang Cheng’s golden core or Wei Wuxian’s blithe lack of sleep schedule. 

“I missed this,” he admitted, head on Wei Wuxian’s (Mo Xuanyu’s) shoulder while Jiang Cheng opened the door.

Wei Wuxian leaned his head on Nie Huaisang’s. “Me too.”

“You’re both fucking annoying,” Jiang Cheng grouched, which meant, Me too.

Wei Wuxian stripped off Nie Huaisang’s muddy outer robe and tucked him into bed, and Jiang Cheng poured a glass of water from the pitcher by the door, drank it, poured another, scowled at Wei Wuxian for a moment, and set it on the bedside table. Wei Wuxian glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, finished with Nie Huaisang and started backing out of the room.

Nie Huaisang sat up more or less abruptly. “Both of you have got to stop that bullshit. I miss my brothers, okay? I’d I had a second chance...” He sagged back down with the plural, and flung an arm over his damp eyes. There was a glimmer in the sky; it’d be morning by Lan standards soon. “I fucking miss them.”

“...Ah,” said Wei Wuxian, who always spoke even when he didn’t know what to say.

“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng said abruptly, and, “Drink your fucking water.” And the door slammed behind him as he walked out.

[...a few lines of dialogue later...]

“Seriously, you can go.” Nie Huaisang flicked a few tired fingers in dismissal.

“Are you sure?” Wei Wuxian added with an audible smirk, “Because if I stay up for another half hour, I can wake Lan Zhan with a morning...big ol’...loving...”

Nie Huaisang finally adjusted his arm to crack one eye up at him.

“People usually cut me off before I get that far,” Wei Wuxian admitted.

[ . . . a bit more dialogue and the end.]

#mdzs #the untamed #nie huaisang #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #to the shick of no one i did write more in this than i thought i would #it's still like...no connective tissue though #and i'm not bothering with anything more #my fic #ficlet #i'm not gonna lie that plural snuck up on me #love when that happens! #incidentally you can’t prove that there ISNT a classic ancient fantasy China version of a telltale heart so my reference stands

[ibijau]

I’ve sent you an ask like this before but like. reverse au where nhs’ goal is wrh instead of jgy - imagining little nhs with his father’s blood on his saber unable to stop bawling but insisting that he has to go on trial for the murder of his father - being furious when he’s not pronounced guilty because it has to be someone’s fault - little nmj crying sympathy tears and trying to guard huaisang against whatever’s making him cry -

lxc only starts to let go of his jealousy of how frivolous sect leader nhs is allowed to be when wrh attacks nhs in the middle of a cultivation conference and is bravely defeated by now-jgy and lxc sees nhs first realize through his tears that wrh may have been the one to kill his father - he lets go of it entirely as he begins to suspect the decimation of the main branch of the wen clan took a lot more hard work than chance

oops, I went for something centered around the Nie brothers with this orz

It was just the three of them in that room when it happened, and though Mingjue is quite young, he is brought to testify at that trial his da-ge insists on having. When the elders ask, he explains that he had closed his eyes and didn't see much. He doesn’t tell them that his da-ge had just ordered him to close them. If it’s relevant, his da-ge will say something.

But Huaisang stays silent, except for some quiet sobbing.

“You didn’t see, but you heard,” one elder insists. “So what did you hear?”

“A-die was angry,” Mingjue replies, eyes darting toward his brother. “He was shouting at us.” He hesitates. “It’s words da-ge says I’m not allowed to know and if I use them around grown-ups I’ll be in trouble.”

The elders smile weakly at this well-behaved boy of seven.

“Just for today, you can say it. We need to understand, er-gongzi.”

Mingjue glances again at his brother. He only speaks again when his da-ge nods at him through his tears.

“A-die said that I was just the son of a whore and he was tired of me scheming against da-ge,” Mingjue recites, the accusation branded onto his mind. He can still hear the exact tone of his father’s voice, feel the power of his unrestrained aura oppressing him to the point he nearly fainted. “A-die also said that da-ge was a disgrace anyway and he was going to get rid of both of us and have real sons, instead of a Wen and a bastard. Then I heard blades hitting, and A-die shouted a-die couldn't hurt me, and there was a fight, and then everything was very quiet and da-ge said I needed to go get help.”

The elders nod solemnly. Huaisang sobs harder, his face awash with tears. He presses both hands against his mouth in an effort to keep quiet, so he won’t disturb the trial too much, but it’s not very efficient. Their cousin Zonghui, standing next to him, pats Huaisang’s shoulder to try to calm him.

“What did you see, before you left the room?” one elder asks.

Mingjue doesn’t answer right away. It’s fine to take time to remember, they told him early on, so he does that. In truth though, it’s not like he could ever forget the sight of his brother, usually so soft and funny, standing over the still twitching corpse of their father. He hasn’t forgotten that their father was breathing and even moaning when he left. He recalls, also, how different his da-ge had looked with his bloody sabre in hand, that hard look on his face.

When Mingjue had returned with help, his father had stopped breathing, and there was no hardness left to Huaisang who had dropped his sabre and was sobbing in a corner.

“There was a lot of blood,” Mingjue says, which isn’t a lie.

His eyes catch Huaisang’s. His da-ge, who doesn’t let anyone insult him for his mother, who told Mingjue many nice stories about her, since he never got to meet her. His da-ge who encourages him even when others say that the son of a servant shouldn’t be given the education of a young master, shouldn't dare to be better than children of higher birth. His da-ge, lazy and spoiled, but always putting in the effort when he feels Mingjue needs protecting.

It’s Mingjue’s turn to protect him now.

“I onlyremember the blood, and that I was scared,” he claims.

This time, it’s a lie.

But he can’t let them hurt his da-ge.

-

At the issue of that trial, it is decided that Huaisang acted out of self defence, and cannot be too harshly punished for the murder of his father. He has to offer sacrifices to the heavens and make public penance, but there won’t be lasting consequences, and he still gets to be sect leader.

Uncle Wen would not allow for anything else, Mingjue hears some of the elders whisper.

Uncle Wen went through a lot of trouble to make sure Qinghe Nie stopped bothering him, they also say. And now his sister’s child is ruling the only sect that used to stand up to him.

Huaisang laughs when Mingjue repeats this to him one night, while his da-ge puts him to bed for the night. Everything else has changed, but not this: Huaisang makes the time to take care of his didi, and Mingjue worries for his da-ge. Making time is harder than it used to be, the worries have become bigger than before, but fundamentally it’s still the same.

“Don’t listen to what those old farts say,” Huaisang advises as he tucks Mingjue under his blanket. “And don’t let them catch you listening, either. They’ll think you’re going to repeat things to me.”

“I do repeat things to you,” Mingjue points out. “And they shouldn’t be saying things like that. It’s not right to speak about people behind their back. A-die said people should speak their grievance in the light, or not at all.”

Huaisang smiles, and pets his hair.

“A-die was a good man,” he says. “Don’t let anyone make you forget that. A-die was the best man in the world. The way he was at the end, that wasn’t him. He was kind, and he loved you, and he was the best man any of us will ever meet… but this isn’t a world for good men.”

Mingjue frowns. His da-ge has always said odd things, but it has gotten worse lately.

“Da-ge is good too,” he mutters, unable to express the worry starting to form in his chest.

What he means is this: if good men are struck down by a cruel world, then his da-ge, who is good, might be at risk of dying. The thought terrifies him, and he would do anything to keep his da-ge alive. He lied for him at the trial, and he can do it again.

Huaisang laughs again.

“Don’t you worry about me!” he snickers, ruffling his brother’s hair. “I’m not good at all. Haven’t you heard people complain how little good I am?”

“You’re lazy not good, not bad not good,” Mingjue corrects. "Not like uncle."

Da-ge's good humour is shattered, replaced by a severe frown which makes him look too much like he did, that night their father died. Mingjue doesn't like it.

"MingMing, you remember the rule about uncle, right?"

"I don't say anything bad about uncle where others can hear," Mingjue meekly recites. "Only da-ge can say if it's safe to talk about uncle. Sorry. I know you didn't say."

"It's fine this time, but be more careful. Uncle is dangerous. He killed a-die, he'll kill us too if he realises we're not on his side. And we're not. Whose side are we on?"

"Each other," Mingjue dutifully replies.

He knows it's the right answer, but only if they're alone. If there are sect elders, Mingjue must claim loyalty to the sect. If they are in front of Wen Ruohan, he must say family. But the truest of truth is that he'd do anything for his da-ge, and da-ge has proven more than once he'd do anything for Mingjue.

"You're a good boy," da-ge said, ruffling his hair once more. "Don't think too much about these things. Da-ge will take care of all the problems for you."

"But I can help!"

"Yes you can," Huaisang agreed, pinching his cheek. "You can help by doing as you're told. Can you do that?"

Past events prove that Mingjue, on the whole, isn't good at doing what he's told, not when he thinks he's told to do something stupid. Sometimes, he makes a big argument about that. He's young, not stupid, and he doesn't want to do things just because grown-ups have ideas about how things should be.

But da-ge looks really tired tonight, and Mingjue doesn't want to become yet another problem on his brother's mind. So he nods dutifully.

It makes da-ge smile, so it was probably okay to lie.

#nie huaisang #nie mingjue #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #might continue it later but also might not #It's just that you know... #reversed nie bros my beloved #and also I'm trying to make a small dent in my prompts lol

[thebiscuiteternal]

mxy has a crush on nhs and tells his older brother jgy about it but for some reason he doesn't seem too happy about it (i really loved your fic with xue yang teasing them so i got this idea).

It actually doesn’t start with Xue Yang’s crude jokes (though those linger in his mind far more than is probably appropriate). 

Rather, it starts with- “Interesting. But why would you want me to help you with makeup? Surely your sister-in-law-”

“I like the way you paint,” Mo Xuanyu says, fighting and losing against the heat in his cheeks. “And makeup is a kind of paint, isn’t it?”

“Hmm, you’re not wrong,” Nie-xiong murmurs, idly tapping the tip of his closed fan against his mouth in thought.

It’s hard not to let his gaze drift to the motion.

He’s sure he can hear Xue Yang laughing in the back of his head, damn him.

Finally, Nie-xiong gives him a lopsided grin. “Well, I don’t see why we can’t at least make an attempt. I’ll try not to make a mess of that pretty face of yours.”

Mo Xuanyu turns even redder at that.

---

Feather-light fingertips guide his head one way, then another, as Nie-xiong inspects the progress of... whatever it is he’s doing with such tiny brush strokes.

It’s for the best that his eyes are closed; he can feel the gentle puff of breath every time Nie-xiong leans in to add or tweak something, and he thinks he might actually die if he had to look the man in the eye from this close.

“Alright. It’s not my best work, but I think it came out pretty well for a first try. Ready to see?”

“Yes!” Mo Xuanyu opens his eyes as a mirror is pressed into his hands and-

Oh. 

Little gold and red feathers decorate the corners of his eyes and down the sides of his nose, matching nicely to the faint touches of rouge and lip tint. 

He looks-

He looks- 

“You did this just with the stuff I gave you?” he asks, still half stunned. Even Jin-furen, with all her fine cosmetics and skilled assistants, has never worn designs this detailed.

“Mmhmm. What do you think?”

“I think I might cry.”

“Ha! Don’t do that, you’ll smear all my hard effort,” Nie-xiong teases as he sits back and begins cleaning the brushes. 

On impulse, Mo Xuanyu reaches out and grabs his hands before he can finish. “Can you teach me? I know my hands aren’t very steady-”

Nie-xiong blinks at him in surprise. “Not steady? Yu-er, I’ve seen your talismans and array work before, your lines are damn near flawless.”

But... that can’t be right... can it? The instructors for the disciples are always calling his calligraphy and drawings complete henscratch. 

The confusion must show on his face, because Nie-xiong gently pulls a hand free and pats his comfortingly. “I’ll make a deal with you. We’ll start you off practicing eye designs on paper until you feel ready to try your face.”

“And... will you do my face when you visit until then?” Mo Xuanyu asks. He’s pushing, and he knows it. Most people would have already shaken him off and left by now. 

But Nie-xiong just gives him a smile that makes him feel lightheadedly giddy. “I don’t see any reason not to,” he says. “Let me finish cleaning up and then we’ll go show you off.”

---

“It’s a little ostentatious, isn’t it?” Yao-ge asks, his expression unreadable. 

Mo Xuanyu fights the urge to bite his lip and duck his head under the scrutiny. “I like it,” he says quietly. “And Nie-xiong worked hard on it for me.”

The look on his brother’s face doesn’t... change, exactly, but Mo Xuanyu can feel something shift around them in a way that makes him nervous. 

Fortunately, he’s saved from any further awkwardness by the approach of some minor official or another, but even as he takes the opportunity to escape into the halls, he can’t help but wonder what it was Yao-ge found so distasteful.

The makeup, that it had been Nie-xiong who’d done it, or that it had been done for him.

He’s not sure he wants to know.

#mdzs #nie huaisang #mo xuanyu #jin guangyao #sangyu #fanfic

[scarletjedi]

Untitled Untamed Time Travel Fixit AU but make it Mingcheng

@piyo-13

Part 1

Part 2A

PART 2B: GUSU UNLEASHED

Nie Huaisang immediately grabs a piece of blank paper to write a message back to Nie Mingjue, leaving Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian staring at each other. “Well,” Wei Wuxian said after a minute. “Aren’t you going to write to him, too?”

Jiang Cheng startled, he’d been too caught up in Huaisang’s words, “He’s alive!”. He had been prepared to go through the process of meeting Nie Mingjue again, of hopefully catching his attention, of watching A-Jue fall for him the way Jiang Cheng had fallen years ago — that his lover was here, alive, and *knew him* had not had time to process.

Trembling, Jiang Cheng moved from his bed, weak limbs pouring him like water until he was sat up against the table, taking the paper that Huaisang handed him. He stared, blankly. What to *say*?

“Tell him you love him,” Wei Wuxian said from his bed.

“Tsk, he knows that,” Jiang Cheng said with little snap.

“Then tell him you want to fuc—”

“Ah, la la la la!” Nie Huaisang said, covering his ears, and Wei Wuxian fell back laughing. Nie Huaisang winked at him. “Be honest,” he said. “But be short,” he looked down at his own missive. “All of this needs to fit on the bird.”

Nodding, Jiang Cheng picked up his brush. After a moment, he put ink to paper, writing in quick, sure strokes. He fanned the paper back and forth a few times to dry the ink faster, and folded the note to hand to Huaisang. Huaisang took it with a grin and ran from the room to send the message back.

“What did you write?” Wei Wuxian asked.

“None of your business.”

Two days later Nie Zonghui would bring the messages to Nie Mingjue, who would open Huaisang’s note, only to have a smaller note fall free. He would pick it up with a small frown before reading Huaisang’s note, smiling — blinking, then reading the note again. “If he put nearly have the effort into studying...” he muttered and Zongui would hide a smile. Then, Mingjue would open the smaller missive, nearly dropping the paper in shock, scrambling to catch it. “Sect Leader?” Zonghui would ask, and when Nie Mingjue looked up, he would be beaming.

Now, Nie Mingjue, who had fought, lead, and won a war, lead a sect, and died a slow, agonizing descent into his greatest fears, finds himself once more at 19, newly made Section Leader, and the clearest minded he’s been in years, without the damage caused by cultivating a war and...well. He wasn’t actually sure *how* Meng Yao managed to kill him, just that he knew he had.

Which was another problem. By this point, Huaisang was safely in Cloud Recesses, but Meng Yao was on his way back to Qinghe. It would take him most of a week to return, traveling on horseback as he was, and Nie Mingjue wasn’t sure what reception Meng Yao should receive.

Meng Yao, long before he was renamed by his father, had acted in ways that were counter to the values of the Nie sect. Even if Nie Mingjue were to overlook the crimes he committed as Jin Guangyao, or the atrocities he participated in as a torturer for Wen Ruohan, his crimes began in Qinghe.

Crimes that, as far as Nie Mingjue was aware, had not yet happened. Even before Meng Yao had used the chaos of an attack to kill the captain of his guardNie, Mingjue was never sure how much Meng Yao spoke was the truth — just knew that at one point he was sure Meng Yao had never lied to him, and then was never sure Meng Yao was not lying.

In his previous life, Nie Mingjue turned most often to Lan Xichen for council, particularly wher Meng— Jin Guangyao was concerned. Then, as years passed, Xichen would turn ever more towards Jin Guangyao first, and Nie Mingjue found himself turning to Jiang Wanyin as their wartime sparring turned to tent-side comfort, to comraderie to courtship.

A-Cheng.

For all that Mingjue had more years of experience leading a sect, Wanyin’s experience was a similar enough trial by fire to grant him insight, and an outsider enough to the triumvirate to offer an outsider’s clarity.

Truly, his love possessed an uncanny wisdom hidden behind brusque words and toothless threats.

He wished for Wanyin’s council now. He wished for his presence. It had already been too long since they had last seen each other before Mingjue made his last, fateful visit to Jinlintai. It would likely be several months, if not years, before their paths would cross once more.

And— he missed his lover as a lover. Wanyin was a beautiful man, strong and proud and fierce and so sweet in private. A joy and a challenge.

Getting Huaisang’s letter was bittersweet because his didi had already suffered so much: even the first time, Mingjue had wanted Hauisang’s youth to be as worry free as possible, to have the freedom to be careless in a way Mingjue never had. And sweet, because it meant that Mingjue wasn’t alone in this.

Getting Wanyin’s message was a blessing and a curse. He had already resigned himself to wait, to reach out to the Jiang Sect in support to save Wanyin his own heartbreak, to court him properly from the beginning. To know that his love was here, and yet still so far out of reach...

Huaisang’s letter boiled down to “plan in motion. Do not engage.” Which...

“Didi,” Nie Mingjue muttered. “What are you doing?”

Because, the thing is, Mingjue would *like* to listen to Huaisang. Mingjue was tired, and doing the right thing was an increasingly difficult and murky task....but Mingjue was also a just and righteous man. Certain actions he would take no matter what...and certain actions he would not.

The facts were thus:

Meng Yao had killed him in a way that was both intensely malicious and duplicitous. (Nie Mingjue was unsure as to his motive. What did Meng Yao gain aside from petty revenge? No, the method was revenge. The act...the act was something different).

Meng Yao had not, as of yet, committed any crime, nor was he currently capable of the technique that had been used to kill Mingjue.

Nie Mingjue could not in good conscience kill a man who had committed no crime, nor could he stand by and allow another to fall off the righteous path when it was within his power to prevent. (Was it within his power?)

So, Nie Mingjue could neither punish Meng Yao for crimes he had not yet committed, nor could was he able to relax in Meng Yao’s presence the way he had the first time around.

...Maybe Huaisang had ideas.

[later] “I can’t believe this!” Huaisang glared at the letter from his brother. Jiang Cheng’s own letter sat in his pocket to be perused later. It felt almost hot, the way his focus continually drifted towards the folded paper, but he knew better than to read his lover’s letter in front of Huaisang. Not if he wanted to keep any pretense to dignity.

“What is it?” he prompted when Huaisang fell silent, re-reading furiously.

“He wants to rehabilitate Meng Yao! His own murderer!”

“Meng Yao didn’t come back with the rest of us,” Jiang Cheng offered. “He’s not the man who killed your brother. Not yet, anyway.”

“You didn’t see—” Huaisang cut himself off, looking away and biting his lip. Jiang Cheng shifted, focusing on the letter to let the heat of its presence chase away the chill of the reminder that when his lover had died, Jiang Cheng wasn’t there.

“A tiger can not change his stripes,” Nie Huaisang muttered, and hid his face behind his fan.

[The discussion over what happens to Meng Yao plays out thusly:

NHS: I don’t want to kill Meng Yao, Da-ge! I just don’t want him alive. Anymore.

NMJ: Didi, no.

NHS: Didi, yes!

Ultimately, NMJ pulls the big brother/sect leader card and says they have time to deal with Meng Yao, and since Meng Yao was currently NMJ’s problem, he would deal with it. NHS threw a tantrum that reminded everyone that yes, NHS is related to NMJ by blood, but finally went: “fine! It’s not like the *whole reason* we came back wasn’t to fuck up all of his shit!” and adjusted his plans again.]

When he goes back to his room, Jiang Cheng finds himself alone. He can bet that Wei Wuxian will be off with Lan Wangji (and no, Jiang Cheng doesn’t know why Wei Wuxian hasn’t just moved in with his boyfriend, considering how often he comes skittering into the room just on the wrong side of curfew, mussed and bruised in a very specific way that Jiang Cheng a) wants to know no more about and b)isn’t jealous of, fuck off.), so he has time to read his letter.

Cheng-er,

We never were a pair for letters, you and I, preferring to steal time for each other like a pair of romantic thieves. I regret, now, not making more time to woo and court you properly then — though I fear I already had all you could give — not desire, you showed me your hunger for me readily enough, matched only by my hunger for you — but hours of the day.

I think very fondly of our nights.

This second chance makes me desire to do better, to build you a place in my life from the start, as I hope you build a place for me. We are young, yet, and have time to hope.

I miss you, Wanyin. Cheng-er. Please write to me. A letter is a poor substitute for your fire, but I will cherish even these scraps above silence.

Yours,

A-Jue

Jiang Cheng wasn’t sure how long he was there, re-reading the letter, when Wei Wuxian tumbled in, only to stop when he caught sight of Jiang Cheng.

“Jiang Cheng! You’re pink!” Wei Wuxian crowed, pointing a finger and laughing at the way Jiang Cheng startled. “Who wrote to you to make you blush? What did he say?”

“None of your business,” Jaing Cheng snapped, tucking the letter away.

A-Jue,

Who gave you the right to write such a letter? Who would believe the NIe Sect leader to be so shameless? You can take a lesson from your brother in poetry if you are planning to continue!

Building a space — as if I did not rebuild my piers with a place for you. As if you had not already crawled into my heart to live.

I lost you once, A-Jue. I will not lose you again.

I await your next letter,

Yours, always,

Cheng-er

Jiang Cheng hands the folded paper to Nie Huaisang, face burning. For once, Nie Huaisang doesn’t tease, doesn’t give him a knowing smirk. Instead, his eyes are kind, and he takes the letter with little fanfare, tucking it neatly into his own missive to be sent off at once.

When the next letter comes, Jiang Cheng doesn’t even bother waiting, taking the letter and retreating to the sound of Nie Huaisang’s laughter.

Cheng-er

You want poetry, do you?...

Jiang Cheng’s eyes skip over the page and he gasps aloud, face burning as he looks around to see that no one else is near. To write such things! Shameless! But...oh, how it lights a fire in him, and he’s breathless with his, dizzy with sudden, frustrated want that he cannot satisfy.

In the end, Nie Mingjue was right. The words are a poor substitute, but Jiang Cheng would not trade this letter for anything.

The next morning, Jiang Cheng approaches Wei Wuxian with an idea for a long-distance communication array, one that could be personally powered and used. The reasons he gives are all to do with military strategy, but he needn’t have bothered. The challenge to create something new has Wei Wuxian distracted immediately, and he wanders off to the library mid-sentence.

The next free afternoon they have in Caiyi, Jiang Cheng purchases a wooden box, cleverly built with locking compartments and false bottoms. It is perfectly sized for folded letters.

Time passes. Now that Jiang Cheng has thirteen years of lived experience - and hard years of war and cuthroat sect politics and rebuilding his sect - the lessons aren’t easier, per say, but they have context that he missed the first time. HIs understanding is more in depth, which quickly makes him a favorite of Lan Qiren to call on — even if his actual answer (usually “threaten them with Zidian”) wasn’t the answer he provided in class. Wei Wuxian was also a calmer presence in class - still questioning, still pushing limits, but when Lan Qiren calls on Wei Wuxian to answer his questions, Wei Wuxian’s answers are thoughtful, inventive, but within the bounds of conventionality. Surprisingly, it’s Lan Wangji who suggests solutions that boarder on the heretical — solutions that Jiang Cheng knows come to pass, such as the spirit attraction flags.

It’s enough to make Lan Qiren change colors, and judging by the tiny smirk on LWJ’s face, it’s absolutely deliberate. (The one class that Lan Xichen sits in on is, actually, hilarious, as he seems consistently torn between laughter and exasperation at his brother’s small rebellion).

Nie Huaisang, however, seems to be *genuinely struggling* with the material. So much so that Jiang Cheng takes pity and drags him (and Wangxian) into the library one afternoon to actually study rather than their usual spot by the river where they would refine their plan to keep everyone alive that they actually cared about keeping alive, and killing those who needed killing as efficently as possible. (“That’s a rather blunt way of thinning about this, Jaing Cheng,” WWX said to him. JC had just shrugged. He didn’t see the reason to couch the truth in political double speak when he didn’t have to”)

After an hour or so, Nie Huaisang slumped forward over the table, thumping his forehead against he lacquered wood. “It’s no use. I’m going to have to repeat this year again, *again*”

“I don’t understand it,” Jiang Cheng said. He knew that Huaisang was smart; he figured out Jin Guangyao’s plot, he successfully modified the time travel array — Jiang Cheng was pretty sure he ran Qinghe’s spy rin duing the war, though that had never been confirmed. “I know you know things.”

“I don’t,” he wailed. “I don’t know anything. Don’t ask me.”

“I don’t mean to alarm anyone,” Wei Wuxian said, leaning in and keeping his voice low. “But we have a spy in our midst.”

“Those rumors were never proven,” Huaisang said, sniffling.

“Not you,” Wei Wuxian said, and angled his head in a way that he only thought was subtle towards where Jin Zixuan was sitting, stiff and imperious, with an exasperated Luo Qingyang. “He’s been doing that a lot,” he said.

Jiang Cheng watched him for a long moment, trying to remember the frustration he felt with a young Jin Zixuan who hadn’t yet unlearned the smug superiority of Jinlintai...but all he could see was little Jin Ling, awkward from growing up alone and desperately lonely (except Jin Ling had picked up Jiang Cheng’s bad habit of expressing any emotion as anger, and it seemed Zixuan had chosen...smug silence.)

“Aw, crap,” Jiang Cheng muttered, because as soon as he realized it, he knew what he had to do. Pushing himself up, he stalked over to Jin Zixuan, ignoring the hissed complaints of Wei Wuxian, and stared down at him, arms crossed.

“What do you want?” Jin Zixuan sneered. Behind him, Luo Qingyang rolled her eyes, and Jiang Cheng huffed.

“Cute. But you got nothing on my mother.” Jin Zixuan blinked, surprise loosening some of the stiffness in his posture. Rolling his eyes, Jiang Cheng snapped. “Look. You’re not subtle. We see you. So do you want to sit with us or not?” He looked between them. “Both of you.”

Jin Zixuan nodded, then blinked as if surprised at himself. Luo Qingyang stood to salute, but Jiang Cheng waved it off.

“Great, come on,” Jiang Cheng said, and turned around, not waiting to see if they. He sat back in his seat, shifting books to make room. He didn’t really want to sit next to Zixuan, but with Nie Huaisang sprawled over his books and Wei Wuxian practically in Lan Wangji’s lap, it was the only safe place for them.

Nie Huaisang sat back, looking at Jiang Cheng over his fan. “What?” He snapped.

“Softie,” Nie Huaisang said softly, and Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes.

“He needs to learn, and Luo Qingyang is the only one at Jinlintai right now that I trust,” he muttered.

Wei Ying squinted at Jiang Cheng, as if trying to figure something out, but when Jin Zixuan and Luo Qingyang appeared, he blinked at her, surprised, and perked up in recognition. “Mianmian!”

Which, of course, was the wrong thing to say. Jin Zixuan puffed up, and Lan Wangji hissed a pained Wei Ying, and Nie Huaisang was being no help. So, Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes again and translated.

“No offense meant, Lady Luo,” he said. “My brother’s memory for names is notoriously bad, but he means no disrespect by his over familiarity.”

Thankfully Luo Qingyang smiled. “No offence taken, Young Master Jiang. If your offer is genuine, and we are to be friends, then you may call me Mianmian.”

Jaing Cheng smiled. “Then please join us, Mianmian. I am Jiang Cheng.”

That caused everyone to look at him, and he glared. “What?! I have manners.”

“Jiang-xiong is quite a gentleman,” Nie Huaisang agreed, mildly, and Jiang Cheng narrowed his eyes. That tone always meant mischief.

“And you’re a pain in my—”

“No excess talking in the library,” Lan Wangji interrupted, staring placidly back when Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng both glared at him. Well, Jiang Cheng glared. Nie Huaisang pouted.

After a moment, Jin Zixuan grunted softly, as if someone had elbowed him in his ribs. He cleared his throat. “What are you working on?” he asked woodenly, as if speaking from a poorly rehearsed script. Out of the corner of his eye, Jiang Cheng saw Mianmian nod encouragingly.

“We’re trying to help Nie-xiong pass the next exam,” Wei Wuxian offered.

“Who’s we?” Jiang Cheng muttered, flipping his book open once more. “Unless sitting in Lan Wangji’s lap is a new study method.”

Nie Huaisang giggled behind his fan as Wei Wuxian squawked, reaching out to smack Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, only to be hauled back with apparent ease by Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji who, arms wrapped securely around Wei Wuxian, stared square at Jiang Cheng and said. “It is an advanced technique.”

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian protested, going pink in the face, and Nie Huaisang’s giggles turned to outright laughter.

Jin Zixuan leaned into to Jiang Cheng. “Is it always like this?”

Jiang Cheng shrugged. “Pretty much. Those two decided shame was for other people a long time ago.”

“I...have questions,” Jin Zixuan said.

Jiang Cheng turned and looked at him. “You know, so do I. But mine might involve yelling, so the library probably isn’t the best place for them.”

(It takes a while to build up to the conversation, a few weeks until Jin Zixuan is comfortable enough to sit with them without Mianmian as a social buffer. He’s still insufferable, but more and more Jiang Cheng sees the kid he remembers from childhood visits, and even shades of the proud yet just man that he almost had a chance to fully grow into being.)

Meanwhile, something is shifting between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, the simmering tension between them boiling over, and Jiang Cheng is both sure that they’ve actively started fucking and and sure that he wants *absolutely nothing to do with it.* He does not want to hear it, see it, smell it — which makes it difficult when Wei Wuxian proves that he has no filter, and Lan Wangji proves he has no shame.

What had actually happened was Lan Xichen had approached Lan Wangji and said that he was glad LWJ was making friends, and hey, haven’t you been spending an awful lot of time with that Wei Wuxian kid? Don’t worry, little brother, I’ll keep Uncle off your back.” LWJ was unsure if Xichen knew that LWJ and WWX were together, but was unsure how to clarify. Every time he tried, LXC seemed to double down on his interpretation of their relationship as being the same as his with NMJ (and while NMJ thought LXC was pretty, he was more interested in Xichen’s swordplay than his *swordplay*) - and LWJ decided that the best course of action was to kiss Wei Wuxian as much as possible as often as possible.

For the record, Lan Xichen was well aware of his little brother’s inclinations, and was quite enjoying his own spot of harmless rebellion by encouraging Wangji’s shamelessness. Besides, Wei Wuxian was a good match for Wangji, and it was a relief to see Wangji smiling. Perhaps it was time to begin drafting some marital paperwork. It wouldn’t do to be caught unprepared, afterall.

He hoped they married in the spring. He always loved a spring wedding...

Somewhere, Jiang Cheng felt a chill.

NEXT TIME - THE RETURN OF THE MAIN PLOT

#mingcheng #mingcheng notefic #my fic #the untamed

[captain-apostrophe]

Also for Cris, because asking me to choose was impossible - every single one of those options was too good to pass up! Thanks Cris, I hope you like it!

(also on ao3, if you prefer to read there.)

[gen; prompt fill; 3zun & NHS; modern setting; D&D]

- Clear -

"So there's how many guards?" Xichen asked.

   "Six," Huaisang said.

   "Alright, and they're - spaced out along the hallway, right?"

   "Yep."

   "Okay, I'd like to - do you two mind if I try something?"

   He looked across the table to Mingjue and Meng Yao, who shook their heads and gestured for him to go for it. It earned them a smile that made them both blush (and Huaisang roll his eyes: like, he got it, they were all dating and in love and it was very disgusting, get a room already, not at HIS table thanks very much).

   "I'd like to - thank you! - I'd like to sneak down the hallway and knock them out? Can I just make them unconscious?"

   "What," Huaisang said, with a laugh, "with your Vulcan neck pinch?"

   "No, do it like this," Mingjue suggested, putting his arm around Meng Yao's neck. "Just choke them out."

   Meng Yao dramatically mimed passing out, slumping in Mingjue's arms. This was, in Huaisang's opinion, a thinly veiled excuse for them to practically be in each other's laps. He should never have agreed to this, not with the three of them still all heart-eyed about each other. But his brother had asked so many times, and had praised his podcast so eloquently (Huaisang was pretty sure Meng Yao had told him what to say, that snake; nobody flattered like Meng fucking Yao) (Huaisang secretly liked him so much, of course).

   "I want to choke them out," Xichen said, earnestly. "And then if I mess it up the others can run in and rescue me."

   "I'd like to add bardic inspiration," Meng Yao said. "And can I snuff out some of those candles, with my mage hand? The range extended to sixty feet with telekinesis. Not all of them, just enough to make it harder for the guards to see."

   "Sure, yeah," Huaisang said. "Er-ge I'm gonna need you to roll stealth to sneak up on someone, and then - uhhhhhhhhhhhh, what's grappling, strength? And then that, to choke them out. Let's see how far you get!"

   Xichen nodded solemnly, and started making his rolls. His ranger was the perfect build for it - he had elven dexterity, and darkvision; class bonuses to hiding; and since he mained a sword over archery his strength was decent too.

   And, well, he rolled almost flawlessly. His ranger sneaked along the hall, moving from shadow to shadow. He choked each guard unconscious, caught them before they could drop to the ground, and dragged them into side rooms and behind furniture where they wouldn't be seen.

   With each roll of the dice Mingjue and Meng Yao leaned in closer - far from getting bored, as Huaisang had worried they might with the spotlight on someone else, they were enthralled.

   When Xichen's ranger came to the last guard in the hall he rolled badly: even with his extensive bonuses, he only got up to thirteen. Mingjue groaned and covered his face with his hands but Meng Yao leaned over to slap Xichen's arm.

   "The inspiration!" he hissed. "Just don't roll a one!"

   Xichen rolled, and all four of them rose from their seats to lean over the table, watching the d12 bounce across the table and finally come to a halt... on a two.

   "Oh my god," Meng Yao sighed, as he sank back into his chair.

   Mingjue collapsed into his.

   "I think I stopped breathing," he admitted.

   "The guard squirms in your arms," Huaisang narrated, "and almost breaks free - but at the last moment you remember your companion's words of fortifying encouragement and grip him tighter. Finally he slumps, unconscious, and you're alone in the hallway."

   "I turn around and wave at the others," Xichen said. "And I shout out - okay, come on in!"

   Huaisang grinned.

   "Your shout echoes down the passageway and then, from behind the doors leading further into the compound, you hear shouts and running footsteps. Roll initiative."

#prompt fill #fic-iversary prompts #cap' writes #the untamed #fanfic #3zun #nie huaisang #modern setting #d&d

[jaimebluesq]

In case you're still taking fic prompts for the askgame... I'd love to see Sangcheng asking for Zonghui's help to tell Da-ge about their relationship. (If settled in canon or AU, is for you to decide)

Thank you! I adore NZH so much. For the purposes of this fic, he's NMJ & NHS' cousin - takes place post-sunshot.

~*~*~*~

The air was crisp and cool, though not quite cold – the perfect day for saber training. Nie Zonghui had finished leading a class for some of the youngest disciples and was still on the training field, practising a new manoeuver he and Nie Mingjue had been working on to make better use of his twin sabers. His muscles thrummed with energy from his movements and his mind was calm, focused completely on the singing of his sabers as they sliced through the air.

He should have known his perfect day would be short-lived.

“My pardon, Captain Nie.” One of the sect's messengers had stopped at his side and had their hands held out with a small folded note. “Nie-er-gongzi asked me to give this to you.”

Nie Zonghui looked down at the paper as if it would bite him when he touched it. He took it reluctantly and the messenger quickly bowed and left.

- You are cordially invited to join Nie Huaisang and his guest for lunch at noon in the aviary. -

He was torn between fond amusement at Nie Huaisang's formal language and a deep apprehension at being asked for such a meeting. He settled on the latter, remembering that the last time he'd received such a summons was when his cousin had received his final marks from the lessons in Cloud Recesses and wanted help breaking the bad news to his brother.

But perhaps he was worrying for nothing. After all, Nie Huaisang had been busy for several days ever since Sect Leader Jiang had arrived, determined to show his old school friend the best of Qinghe now that they were no longer in the midst of war. Perhaps they simply wanted to ask if Nie Zonghui would be willing to spar with Jiang-zongzhu – something he had actually considered asking himself, wanting to test his twin sabers against Sandu and Zidian.

When he approached the aviary, Nie Zonghui saw Nie Huaisang already seated with Jiang Wanyin, their low whispers almost drowned out by the chattering of birds overhead. The moment he was spotted, the two younger men fell silent and sat stiffly, and the expression on Jiang Wanyin's face looked almost... guilty.

- What trouble did you get into this time, Nie-er-gongzi? -

He tried to ignore the ominous feeling clenching in his gut as he moved to join them at the table, noting lunch had already been brought out and that a pot of tea was being kept warm by a suitable talisman. It was in Nie Huaisang's handwriting and thus Nie Zonghui was assured the tea would be at the perfect temperature – however much Nie Huaisang liked to laze around and avoid saber practice, Nie Zonghui knew his cousin to be smarter than he let on.

“Ah, thank you for joining us.” Nie Huaisang picked up the tea pot and poured them out cups, his hand steady and his smile wide – the sort of smile he had on when he was trying to convince someone of why he should not practice his saber that day, or how that spring book just happened to appear in his belongings. “I know you met Jiang Cheng briefly when he arrived, but I thought it would be nice to give the two of you a chance to get to know one another better.”

Nie Zonghui nodded at the visiting sect leader. “Jiang-zongzhu. Perhaps you will do me the honour of sparring during your stay in the Unclean Realm.”

Jiang Wanyin looked surprised by the request; he glanced aside to Nie Huaisang before nodding to Nie Zonghui. “It would be my pleasure. I'm told your method of cultivation is rather unique...”

As they ate lunch, Nie Zonghui and Jiang Wanyin kept up a fascinating conversation about differing methods of cultivation and unconventional weapon styles, and by the time the last morsel had been eaten, he'd forgotten any worry that his cousin may have had ulterior motives to asking him to lunch.

That was a mistake.

“Have the two of you finished all that boring cultivation talk?” Nie Huaisang whined, gently petting the head of a pigeon that had come to land on his shoulder mid-way through the meal. “Perhaps I should go back to my room and take a nap.”

“You say as if you don't nap through your lessons most days,” Nie Zonghui teased his cousin.

Jiang Wanyin chuckled and Nie Huaisang made an exaggerated pout before his face took on a more serious note. “You know, Zonghui, there's another reason why I asked you to join us.” Nie Zonghui's stomach sank. “Jiang-xiong had something he wanted to ask you.”

Nie Zonghui turned his gaze to Jiang Wanyin, whose face had begun to take on red tinge and whose hand clenched tightly around his sword's pommel. He lifted an eyebrow and waited expectantly for the sect leader to speak, desperately hoping that he wouldn't have to figure out how to prevent an inter-sect incident after whatever these two had gotten up to.

“Ah, yes.” Jiang Wanyin's jaw clenched and his eyes stared down at the table – but after several moments, he took in a deep breath and lifted his head to look Nie Zonghui in the eye with determination. “Nie-xiong speaks of you often and very highly, and has told me how close you are to Nie-zongzhu. I had hoped to get some advice regarding a very important subject that I need to address with him.”

Nie Zonghui's shoulders relaxed. He wasn't a diplomat, but he could certainly give advice on how to bring certain subjects to Nie Mingjue's attention. “And which subject is that?” he asked, lifting his cup of tea to empty the last dregs.

“I wish to formally and officially request permission to court his brother.”

Nie Zonghui choked as the tea went down the wrong pipe.

To say that was the last thing he'd expected would be an understatement. Nie Huaisang reached out immediately to pat him on the back until his coughing ceased, the pigeon on his shoulder flying off at the disruption, and when Nie Zonghui looked accusingly at his cousin, Nie Huaisang had the decency to look sheepish.

“I'm presuming you approve of this request, Nie-er-gongzi?”

Nie Huaisang glanced aside at Jiang Wanyin and his face took on a soft look. He smiled. “I don't care about all the formalities, but if it means being with A-Cheng, then I suppose I'll do what I must.”

A-Cheng. How had his cousin gotten so serious about someone without any of them knowing? “How long?” he asked with deceptive calmness, his mind already doing the mental calculations on how his sabers would fare against Jiang Wanyin's weapons should he need to teach the man a lesson in how to treat his cousin. He wasn't completely certain he would win, but he would do what he had to if his cousin's heart were to be broken.

Nie Huaisang swallowed hard but Jiang Wanyin seemed to relax. “We were friends back in Cloud Recesses,” the sect leader replied, “but it wasn't until the war and losing so many people that we- that I realized I didn't want to lose one more. That there was always a face I sought out after battles, even knowing he was nowhere near the front. One person who always checked on me first when we reunited, asking how I was faring before asking about my family.”

The last was spoken with a voice full of fondness and vulnerability. Nie Zonghui watched as Nie Huaisang reached out, wrapping his fingers around Jiang Wanyin's hand, and when the two young men turned to look at each other...

Nie Zonghui sighed, realizing it was far too late to do anything to prevent his cousin from getting too attached, as Nie Huaisang's heart was long gone. At least the two did look happy together, particularly now that they weren't hiding their affection. In all honesty, what more could Nie Zonghui want for his cousin?

Though that didn't mean he wouldn't be ready to fight Jiang Wanyin if necessary.

“All right,” he began, drawing the other men's eyes – they looked like they'd forgotten he was still there. “There are two things you need to know about Nie-zonzhu. First, he is absolutely dedicated to his sect and would die for any one of us. Second, as you probably know, he is very protective of what little family he has left.”

Jiang Wanyin nodded, listening attentively.

“So in preparation, my suggestion is to start with the practical, look at the ways an alliance between our two sects will benefit Qinghe Nie. I might make note of the fact that we're already tied to the Lan and the Jin through the sworn brotherhood, so emphasizing how an alliance between the Jiang and Nie could complement those ties would work in your favour. Next, you need to do something personal, a show of your esteem of Nie-er-gongzi through actions, not just words.”

“That's actually the easiest,” Jiang Wanyin said with a small nod. “It's already been done.” When Nie Huaisang looked at him questioningly, Jiang Wanyin flushed and pulled a paper from his robes, unrolling it on the table before them. “I meant it to be a surprise, but... we've been rebuilding Lotus Pier, and right here,” he pointed to a place on the paper, that Nie Zonghui could now tell was a plan for the Jiang sect's buildings, “is where I'm having built a small, glass-enclosed building with enough windows and space to serve as an-”

“-aviary,” Nie Huaisang finished, his voice soft and choked up. “You're building me an aviary in Lotus Pier.”

Jiang Wanyin nodded. “We're also working on replenishing the fish population in the lake behind the sect, and we're going to focus on species that will attract more cranes during breeding season.”

Nie Huaisang reached up to brush a thumb under his eye, looking as if he were fighting off tears. Considering Nie Huaisang usually enjoyed any opportunity to dramatically cry to gain attention, favours, or get out of doing something he didn't want to do, this showed the tears were more genuine than most Nie Zonghui had been witness to.

“When you're ready to meet with Nie-zongzhu, start with that,” Nie Zonghui advised. “The rest is bonus; the moment Nie-zongzhu hears what you're doing for his brother, you'll have him partly won over.”

Nie Huaisang leapt up from his seat and wrapped his arms around Nie Zonghui's neck, hugging him tightly. “Thank you, cousin,” he whispered.

Nie Zonghui patted his cousin's back and grinned.

“Just let me know when you tell him. I want to be there... for moral support.” Nie Huaisang grinned and nodded, and Jiang Wanyin gave a tentative smile in thanks.

Nie Mingjue had no idea what these two were going to do to him, and Nie Zonghui wanted to be there to watch every single moment.

Fin

#nie zonghui #nie huaisang #jiang cheng #sangcheng

[mcgrillzdumpinc]

Between Friends

Summary: Lan Wangji does not consider himself and Nie Huaisang to be friends. However, when faced with the choice of supporting Nie Huaisang fledgling romance, Lan Wangji finds it hard to turn a blind eye.

ao3 link

Rating: G

Pairing: Sangcheng, NHS & LWJ friendship

Warnings: there is a line that may come off as biphobia, but it comes from a character who lacks understanding & terminology & is not intentionally harmful

Written for sangchengber!

Lan Wangji wouldn’t necessarily say he and Nie Huaisang are friends.  More accurately, they are two younger brothers whose older brothers just so happened to be the best of friends.  As such, they were often paired together on inter-sect trips.  Really, they are more familiar acquaintances rather than friends. Lan Wangji knows what Nie Huaisang’s favorite foods are and his preferences in jewelry makers.  Likewise, Nie Huaisang is privy to Lan Wangji’s favorite authors and (after one unfortunate pubescent incident) his preferences in men. They have secrets between each other and can calmly spend time together.  But Lan Wangji has never exchanged letters with Nie Huaisang nor sought out his company. So, they are not friends.

This is all to say that Lan Wangji, nearing seventeen years old, finds himself debating if he’s familiar enough with Nie Huaisang to tell him to shut up and accept that Jiang Wanyin has a crush on him.

As it currently stands, he’s in the middle of the forest on Phoenix Mountain and he has made the unfortunate discovery of Nie Huaisang crying on the forest floor.  To make matters worse, he’s been spotted, and he’s too familiar with Nie Huaisang to be able to politely leave.  So now he’s sitting next to his childhood friend (more accurately ‘person he has been affiliated with since childhood’) and listening to Nie Huaisang expound upon all of Jiang Wanyin’s good qualities.

In truth, Lan Wangji thinks that all of Jiang Wanyin’s bad qualities outscore whatever good he has.  Case in point: he has not confessed to Nie Huaisang.

“Do you know what he said to me when we finally had some time alone?” Nie Huaisang says.  Lan Wangji already knows the answer, his acquaintance has repeated it twice by now.  But he stays quiet so Nie Huaisang can continue with, “‘You look pretty!’ Nobody says I’m pretty except the girls when they’re being mean!  And da-ge, but he’s usually angry at me, though I think he means it as a compliment? But, you know what?  I am pretty!  I am incredibly pretty!  I can give any maiden a run for her money!  So, what do you think he meant by that, Hanguang-jun?  Was he being nice?  He ran off right after, so I can’t ask him!”

Currently, Lan Wangji is wondering if he can convince Nie Huaisang to return to the base of the mountain so they can play weiqi. That usually shuts him up.

“Hanguang-jun!  I asked you a question!”

He concludes that it is unlikely he can convince Nie Huaisang to leave this spot any time soon, so Lan Wangji replies, “He was complimenting you.”

“Eh?  No way, no way.”  Nie Huaisang shifts so that he is sitting with his legs stretched out.  “Why would Jiang-xiong dare to compliment me?”

It bothers Lan Wangji that his acquaintance would ask such a thing.  He knows of Nie Huaisang’s low aptitude for cultivation, but he has never seen that as something to be ashamed of.  And Jiang Wanyin would be an irredeemable fool if he didn’t agree.  Besides his penchant for complaining, Lan Wangji cannot think of anything Nie Huaisang should think of himself as lesser for.

“Why wouldn’t he compliment you?” Lan Wangji asks in turn.

“Oh, must I say it aloud, Hanguang-jun?” Nie Huaisang sighs.  He worries at his bottom lip until eventually mumbling, “I’m useless.  I only live such a good life due to status.”

“No you are not,” Lan Wangji retorts, somewhat louder than he intended.

Nie Huaisang’s eyes go large.  “Not what…?”

“Useless.”  Lan Wangji stands up and begins to brush his robes off of forest foliage.  “Nie-er-gongzi is very capable.”

Nie Huaisang hurries to stand next to him.  “I’m afraid I don’t understand—”

“I can never win against you in weiqi.  You are very smart.”

Nie Huaisang grins, impish.  “And…?”

Lan Wangji does not roll his eyes, but he comes very close to it.  “Jiang-gongzi has reason to compliment you.  Do not doubt yourself.”

He begins to walk away, but Nie Huaisang does not let him go very easily.  In fact, he latches a surprisingly strong grip to Lan Wangji’s arm and walks with him. “I didn’t know Lan-xiong could be so kind.  I have learned something new today.”

“Mn.”  Lan Wangji would free himself but, well, this is nice.  Usually only Xichen would dare to hold his arm like this.  The new experience is welcome.

Still, though, it seems that Nie Huaisang is not without worry yet.  Some minutes into their walk, his friend speaks up again.  “Lan-xiong, between us cutsleeves, how do you know you’ve fallen for man?  I’ve read so many romance novels, yet… I’m certain it’s different for us.”

A red ribbon, a bright smile, an over-delighted laugh—they flash into his mind alongside a tightness in his chest, a sinking denial and knowledge that something he wants is disappearing by the day.  He swallows it all down and adjusts his grip on his sword. “I do not know.”

“Lying is forbidden for the Lans.”

“I am not lying.”

Nie Huaisang stops.  Lan Wangji stops with him.  Eyes bore into the side of his head, but he stares resolutely ahead.  The forest is beautiful in fall.

“Oh, Lan-xiong, I—”

“Watch out!”

With the shout, a spirit crashes through the woods, followed by a talisman-carrying arrow.  Lan Wangji steps aside, pulling Nie Huaisang towards and down with him. The arrow passes through the spirit, the talisman catching on the its form.  The talisman burns while the spirit releases its death wail.  In seconds, the spirit is no more while the Jiang contingent (minus Wei Wuxian and a few disciples) appear before them.

“Are you hurt?” Jiang Wanyin asks.  Lan Wangji knows he is not asking him.

“We’re fine!” Nie Huaisang answers.  He stands up, taking Lan Wangji with him.  “Your call was well-timed, Jiang-xiong!”

Jiang Wanyin gives Nie Huaisang a careful once-over. You would have to be a fool—or Nie Huaisang—to not notice the way relief pulls his shoulders down and how infatuation catches his breath.  Lan Wangji will admit—Nie Huaisang is an exemplary pick for a cultivation partner. Jiang Wanyin should count himself lucky.

In truth, Lan Wangji knows intimately the many reasons why Jiang Wanyin has not made his affections known.  They are all heirs.  They know beyond any doubt what is expected of them, of the families they are expected to carry on.  There is also the rarity of their sexuality.  One’s orientation is not so easily discovered.  He and Nie Huaisang only know each other’s due to that unfortunate pubescent incident.  And Nie Huaisang is not a cutsleeve, not fully, not truly—he has the luxury of an eye for women.  It occurs to the Lan Wangji that perhaps this is only a problem for himself and Jiang Wanyin, then—the knowledge that rationally they are not the first choice, if they are a choice at all.

Still, though.  There is a red ribbon, a bright smile, an over-delighted laugh that sticks in every fiber of his being.  He cannot stand to know there is at least one tragedy he can help avoid.

He puts a hand on Nie Huaisang’s back and pushes him towards Jiang Wanyin.  “Nie-er-gongzi lost his contingent.  It would be best if you remained with him for the rest of the night hunt.”  Without waiting for a response, Lan Wangji turns and walks away.

From behind, he hears his friend call out to thank him.  It’s nice, knowing he may have been able to help.

#mo dao zu shi #mdzs #sangcheng #sangchengber #sangchengmonth2020 #nie huaisang #jiang cheng #lan wangji

[queenofmoons67]

If you're still taking in prompts, I saw this and immediately thought of Nie bros:"The Rough Character Holding The Injured Soft Character Gently And Breaking Down Over Them"\

number one way to trick me into writing almost 1400 words is, apparently, to ask for NMJ caring for NHS. i hope you like it!

Nie Mingjue crouched low on his saber, eyes squinting against the wind as it whipped past him. The sound of the wind covered everything else, from the calls of the Nie cultivators slowly falling behind his breakneck pace, to any screams that might be echoing on the horizon.

But no matter how painful keeping his eyes open became, he kept them open. He couldn’t crash. Couldn’t lose any more time. And, perhaps most importantly—if the Wens had set fire to the Unclean Realm, as they had to Lotus Pier and the Cloud Recesses, the sight of smoke on the horizon would be his first clue.

As Nie Mingjue got close enough to see his home peaking over the treetops, though, the churning in his gut that had pushed him so far became more frantic.

They had received word early that morning that a small force of Wens had been spotted heading toward the Unclean Realm. Unsure what their purpose was, but positive that this was Wen Ruohan’s response to Nie Mingjue killing Wen Xu, Nie Mingjue had gathered his fastest cultivators and set out immediately.

After Nie Mingjue had killed Wen Xu, the Wens had retreated far enough that the Unclean Realm was guarded only by Nie Huaisang and a thin force of cultivators. There wasn’t supposed to be any Wens between the Nie frontline and the Unclean Realm. But then there had been the missive. And yet...

Squinting even more against the harsh wind, Nie Mingjue struggled to make out more details. Everything seemed fine. There were no hints of burning, or invasion, or—

Nie Mingjue’s eyes narrowed on a small figure taking off from the courtyard and bolting in his direction.

It only took a minute more for them to meet, and Nie Mingjue, knowing they were both moving too fast for him to reach out and grab the man, instead snapped a loud, “Follow me!”

The figure staggered in midair, but did as he said. Nie Mingjue glanced at him, and cursed silently when he realized it was the fastest cultivator he had left with Nie Huaisang.

The instant they landed, Nie Mingjue whirled on the man.

“What—”

“Please follow me, Zongzhu!” the cultivator cried, already moving towards the entrance. “Nie-er-gongzi has been attacked!”

Nie Mingjue stumbled, but quickly recovered and ran after the cultivator. A-Sang had been attacked. Not the Unclean Realm, but A-Sang, and Nie Mingjue hated how much that made sense, and he hated that he hadn’t seen it coming, and that he hadn’t seen fit to fortify his brother’s personal guard more than he already had.

An eye for an eye was exactly the kind of punishment that Wen Ruohan would find suitable. With Nie Mingjue lacking a son, of course the man had targeted his little brother instead. Nie Mingjue had been blind in his certainty that the Unclean Realm couldn’t be breached, and now it might cost him the only family he had left.

Ahead of Nie Mingjue, the cultivator skidded to a stop at the door to A-Sang’s rooms. Nie Mingjue didn’t bother doing the same: He threw the door wide open and barged in, mouth already open and ready to demand to know what was happening, only for him to halt at the sight of the room.

The first thing that caught his eye was the blood. It had splattered all over the walls and floor, mixing its bright red with the paints that A-Sang had had out. There were more than a few fans and paintings that Nie Mingjue already knew would have to be thrown out; there was no saving them.

The second thing Nie Mingjue noticed was the ring of doctors surrounding a body lying, unconscious, on the floor. It was cloaked in Nie robes and still clutching a fan, despite the arrows in his side and shoulder. Nie Mingjue’s mind shuddered as he took in the sight, but he didn’t allow himself to cry. He couldn’t, not when there was so much to do.

Nie Mingjue pushed his way through the doctors and squatted by his brother’s head. He palmed his cheek once—reassuring A-Sang that da-ge was there. Reassuring himself that A-Sang, no matter how pale his face was or how blood-matted his hair was, was still alive and fighting.

And then Nie Mingjue stood, and he walked away. He didn’t let himself look back.

The doctors would do their job. It was time Nie Mingjue did his.

<line break>

Nie Mingjue spent the next several hours directing his people to and fro. A half-dozen cultivators were stationed in A-Sang’s rooms, and a half-dozen more were stationed at its doors and windows. The Unclean Realm as a whole had to be swept from to bottom, to ensure the assassins hadn’t decided to hide instead of running, even while Nie Mingjue sent cultivators out to search the surrounding area in the case that the assassins had run instead of hiding. He told the kitchens to make the most hearty meals an injured person could stomach, dictated messages to the other sects and his own frontline, and then sent those messages out.

And then, just when Nie Mingjue started to flag enough that thoughts of A-Sang began to sink in again, the doctors filed into his office and told him that A-Sang had been moved to his bed. He would live.

<line break>

Nie Mingjue reached A-Sang’s rooms as fast as he could. Entering, he reminded himself that he would have to have servants come in and clean soon; it wouldn’t do for A-Sang to find his living space covered in blood. His brother was in the bedroom, though, which hadn’t been affected. The other room could stay for now.

Nie Mingjue nodded to the cultivators guarding his brother, but didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. They filed out of the bedroom, and when he closed the door behind them, he and his brother were left alone and Nie Mingjue could finally allow himself to feel.

He padded over to the bed, noted the bandages around A-Sang’s torso, and decided that the head was probably the best place for him to sit. He just sat on the edge at first, looking down at his brother—and then he brought his legs up, crossed them, and gently eased his brother’s head onto his lap.

“A-Sang,” Nie Mingjue murmured, bending over him. “A-Sang, I’m here. Da-ge’s here.”

There was no response. A-Sang’s eyes were closed, his cheeks still pale, though his features had relaxed and Nie Mingjue assumed the doctors gave him medicine for the pain. But his brother didn’t wake. His fingers didn’t even twitch.

“I’m sorry, A-Sang,” Nie Mingjue whispered, breathing through the knot in his throat and the cold settling in his head and stomach. “I never should have left you alone.”

Nie Mingjue cupped his little brother’s cheek and smoothed his thumb over it. With his other hand, he gathered A-Sang’s hair, absently noting that someone had tried to wash the blood out. They had done a decent job, but A-Sang’s hair was even more knotted now.

Slowly, Nie Mingjue sectioned his brother’s hair and started combing it, easing his fingers through the strands.

<line break>

Nie Mingjue stirred at the sound of moaning. He had apparently slumped forward at some point, falling asleep right where he sat while he combed A-Sang’s hair.

“Da-ge,” a familiar voice whimpered, and Nie Mingjue jolted, blinking rapidly to focus on the sight below him. A-Sang’s eyes were filing with tears, already red and crinkled, but they were open.

“A-Sang,” Nie Mingjue gasped. He rubbed his thumb against his brother’s cheek, wiping away a tear, and then twisted and yelled, “Fetch a doctor! Nie Huaisang is awake!”

There was a clatter from the other room, but Nie Mingjue paid it no mind and turned back to his brother. He squeezed his shoulder gently.

“Never again,” he said. “I’m doubling your guard. Permanently.”

A-Sang giggled, but then moaned in pain and clutched at his side. Wincing, Nie Mingjue reached out and took his hand in his own.

“Don’t laugh right now,” he said. “You had several arrows in you; you’ll be sore for awhile.”

And A-Sang smiled, though his face was still twisted in pain, and whispered, “Yes, Da-ge.”

Go here for more hurt/comfort prompts to send me! All I need is at least one prompt selection and two characters!

#nie huaisang #nie mingjue #nie brothers #mdzs #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #cql #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #mdzs fanfic #fanfic #mine #My fic #writing prompt #anonymous #Anon

[lhaewiel]

Top 5 XiYao moments and top 5 WangXian moments?

Hello!

So, where do I start? Let me put everything under cut.

XiYao top 5 moments, aka, I feel u LXC, those Hell Dimples make me weak too; I feel u MY, a respectful man is a unique sight even in more modern times:

1. When MY leaves Cloud Recesses

I know everyone talks about the moment when MY presents the present to LXC, but I feel like here it is the moment that really makes MY go like: https://www.tiktok.com/@mynameisnotjessie/video/6744597515674340613?lang=en

Like, I can hear MY's thoughts, I can FEEL him think "OMG this young noble master treated ME, a RAT, with RESPECT, OMG AM I HAVING BUTTERFLIES IN MY STOMACH SO THOSE WERE NOT JUST AN IMPRESSION. He called ME, a lowly soab, YOUNG MASTER like all those rich kids over there. He said that WE ARE PEERS." Oh boy. MY is in fucking LOVE with LXC here. Love at first sight.

2. LXC protects MY from NMJ in Nightless City

Like, this is a clear WangXian parallel. And if you look at LXC he has doubts, but still he believes MY, he is willing to put himself between MY and Baxia, he is willing to defend him whatever the cost. I am 100% convinced that the time where LXC was on the run and was hidden by MY some stuff happened, like LXC trusts him no matter what. I am a simple woman, I see someone go 🥺 and someone else go in protecc mode and I 🤡

3. LXC and now JGY duo at the guqin to calm down NMJ

4Like, those are CLEARLY bedroom eyes. The actors didn't have to go for it that hard but they did it anyway, there were ©️Acting Choices™️ involved. LXC APPEARS more subtle than LWJ bc unlike LWJ he CARES about appearance and etiquette, but these Lan brothers are LITERALLY THE SAME. Worthy sons of their father who married an assassin cos he thought she was neat. And well, all I read in JGY's eyes is "not now darling, Da-ge is right here in front of us, but later on I will make enough excuses to not let anyone bother us, k?"

4. JGY tries to save LXC from JZXun's stupid political games.

That is the Horrified Look of Doom JGY pulls out when SHit Is Going Down For Real, he's genuinely concerned for LXC, so concerned that his Customer Service Voice and Face fall down and he is fretting himself to explain JZXun that NO you CANNOT give alcohol to the Lans, they are BUDDHISTS, DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND, also WHY WOULD YOU ASK FOR A PAINFUL DEATH AT THE HAND OF ER-GE PLS COUSIN LISTEN. And he's like, er-ge, I will forsake this family if you say one single word but PLEASE. Again, ©️Acting Choices™️ involved.

5. LXC accepts gay feelings in full and he is willing to die with JGY at Guanyin Temple.

Look, JGY has just gone off about how no one cares about him, bc NHS has just screamed "HE MOVED" to LXC and LXC stabbed him and you know the whole spiel. And then JGY is asking LXC to die with him and LXC processes the 5 stages of grief in 30 seconds and accepts. And that is all JGY needs to see that he IS loved and cared for by the one person he always cared about. JGY gives LXC one last soft and tender look and then pushes him away, bc he knows he is loved and now he is ready to face death and Da-ge. And LXC is in full denial mode, like NO, I CHOSE TO DIE WITH YOU WHY ARE YOU PUSHING ME AWAY. Like, LXC, mate, I feel u. I understand why you went into seclusion, I would do that too.

***

Top 5 WangXian moments, aka

Like, I would say all of the scenes, but I have to choose

1. The first meeting after one death and 16 years:

2LWJ's look says everything, I can hear "A thousand years" by Christina Perry playing in the background. LWJ has found again the piece of soul he had lost, he is holding onto WWX for dear life and he will NEVER let him go again. Ever. I am crying. My crops are flourishing, my skin is cleared. Suddenly LWJ stops grieving and just holds onto the Love of His Life.

2. The Xuanwu Cave scene.

I am weak for tropes. WWX heals LWJ, LWJ sings for WWX, the whole "Ah, I see, you love Mianmian" and the subsequent "are you stupid" look. LWJ is utterly and completely in love with this oblivious gremlin and it is the "OH!!!" moment of realization. Who cared about the headband, who cares about the huge tortoise demon lurking in the water, there is only Wei Ying and his gremlin smile and LWJ is SMITTEN.

3. Lan Zhan allows Wei WuXian escape with the remainder of the Wen Clan

https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5acab0d3aa49a16d3b710876/1573784613163-EGW9M51EYIDDPLSA18YM/pc6.png

I was crying like a baby here. The atmosphere, the scenes, the fact that LWJ actually realizes that nothing is ever either black or white, the heartbreaking look on WWX's face. Look, I have a lot of feelings for this scene.

4. The WangXian family

This is the moment where my partner heard me shout "THEY HAVE A SON YOUR HONOUR THEY ARE MARRIED". I am sure that meta has been done and discourse has been done, but I literally cried. "But Cla, A-Yuan technically has a family", I KNOW, but STILL. The tenderness. The domestic fluff. LWJ providing toys for a-Yuan. I just. ASDFGHJKL.

5. The golden core reveal

https://filmdaily.co/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/untamed-9-ep-42.jpg

Look, this is my favourite scene for a lot of characters, but focusing on WangXian here we have WWX fainted in LWJ's arms whilst WN goes off about the golden core and NOW LWJ understands the full implications and reasons as to wy WWX chose demonic cultivation, now he understands that up until that moment he had had to withstand everyone's spiritual pressure without a golden core and without a body that could endure it, LWJ understands why WWX did not want him near his core and why he was acting that way and it fucking hurts and all LWJ can do now is cry. UGH MY HEART.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed me ranting about XiYao and WangXian.

#xiyao #wangxian #the untamed #ask

[robininthelabyrinth]

for @ibijau who requested explicit xisang content with top NHS

Spoiled

Warnings: adult content, slightly dubious consent, is it really dubious if being in denial is part of the kink

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

Everyone was always telling Lan Xichen to stop indulging Nie Huaisang so much, telling him that he was spoiling the younger man, even spoiling him rotten, but he just couldn’t help himself.

Nie Huaisang was such good company, so sweet and personable, so talkative and even exuberant – did it really matter so much that he was also inclined to be lazy and slothful? He was never going to make much of a martial artist, and neither was he much of a cultivator, but those weren’t the only traits in the world. Nie Huaisang was clever, thoughtful, quick-witted…a little prone to tears, which Lan Xichen fell for every time even when he knew they were fake, a little self-centered, a little bossy, a little manipulative, yes, but on the other hand it was nice to be needed. It was nice to have a little brother he could properly dote on and care for, given that Lan Wangji had been disinterested in such care since about the age of four. Lan Xichen just wanted someone to indulge, that was all, and Nie Huasiang was so good at being indulged; it was all completely normal.

He wasn’t spoiling him.

“Er-ge, I don’t want to get up to go to bed,” Nie Huaisang complained, throwing himself so dramatically over Lan Xichen’s lap that Lan Xichen had to hide his smile with his sleeve. “I don’t want to, and I won’t!”

“You don’t have a choice,” Lan Xichen told him, and Nie Huaisang gave him the biggest, wettest set of puppy-dog eyes he’d ever seen, all big glistening eyes framed with long trembling eyelashes. How did Nie Huaisang manage to pull that off at a moment’s notice? “Huaisang, really, you don’t. It’s getting late! You need sleep.”

“I know that,” Nie Huaisang pouted. “I just don’t want to get up to go to bed.”

The urge to smile got stronger. “Huaisang, the guest bedrooms are only down the hall.”

“So far? Er-ge, you can’t possibly expect me to make such a trek! And it being already so late!” Somehow Nie Huaisang managed to sink even deeper into his sprawl, which Lan Xichen would have previously thought impossible. Had he somehow managed to become boneless? “Not to mention warm. Oh, er-ge, it’s really so terrible. Why is the summer so hot? It’s unfair. Unfair to me, personally.”

“Is the weather out to get you?” Lan Xichen asked, though he knew his attempts to be sympathetic were probably undermined by the way his shoulders were shaking in hidden laughter. “Does it have a grudge against you?”

“It does,” Nie Huaisang declared, his tone lofty. “The weather is doing this horrible heat wave just to spite me. It’s terrible, and it’s working – I’m melting, er-ge. Look at me, I’m practically a puddle! All liquid! I can’t possibly walk all the way to bed.”

Lan Xichen knew where this was going. In the interests of time and efficiency, he decided to preempt it by giving in at once.

“Do you want me to carry you?”

Nie Huaisang perked up at once, all misty-eyed teariness disappearing as if evaporated into vapor. “Oh, would you, er-ge? Ah, er-ge is the best! I can always rely on you!”

“You can always walk all over me, that’s what you mean,” Lan Xichen retorted, but he ended up scooping Nie Huaisang into his arms anyway. It wasn’t like it was that much of an imposition, really – Nie Huaisang might not be the lightest cultivator around, given his fondness for sweets and disinclination towards exercise, but that just meant he was soft and squishy in a highly enjoyable sort of way, with his height meaning that he was still small enough to fit in Lan Xichen’s arms with ease. Anyway, Lan Xichen was a Lan after all; his arms were more than strong enough to allow him to carry Nie Huaisang without noticing the burden, so why not indulge him just this once?

Well, maybe more than once.

Anyway, the rules said Be easy on others. If it made Nie Huaisang happy, and it didn’t cost Lan Xichen any effort, then why not?

So Lan Xichen took Nie Huaisang down the not especially long hallway all the way to his bedroom, Nie Huaisang enthusiastically bossing him around the entire way: “No, er-ge, you need to walk more neatly, you’re bumping me! Careful, careful, turn, I don’t want to hit the doorframe with my head – oh yes, good, here we are. What? No, I’m not going to get down. If you put me down here at the entrance, I’ll just lie here on the threshold all night, er-ge. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

“All right, all right,” Lan Xichen said, endlessly amused. He stepped over the threshold and at Nie Huaisang’s demand paused to let Nie Huaisang wiggle around to slide the door shut behind them, and then he walked over to put him down on the bed.

That, he thought, would be that, only as he rose to turn and go, Nie Huaisang caught his sleeve and held him back.

“Nooooo, er-ge, don’t go!” Nie Huaisang said in his best pleading whine. “You have to help me get ready for bed!”

“What are you, an infant?” Lan Xichen asked, shaking his head, but it was easier to agree than to fight about it. It wasn’t any hardship to help Nie Huaisang pull off his boots and wiggle further into bed, nor to undo his hairpiece and smooth out his braids; it wasn’t hard to pull off his outer-layer, folding it and putting it away properly (Nie Huaisang would have dumped it on the floor, Lan Xichen just knew it), or to rub his shoulders the way Nie Huaisang liked.

“Now the inner layer,” Nie Huaisang said, and insisted when Lan Xichen would have balked. “It’s too hot to sleep with it, er-ge. Do you want me to die of heat exhaustion overnight? It would be too tragic! What would everyone say?”

“That you’re too lazy to go open your own windows…?” Lan Xichen chuckled, but he was already here, so he might as well. He undid Nie Huaisang’s belt and pulled off his inner robes as well, leaving him bare on the blankets, all soft skin and smooth lines in the moonlight, his undone hair spilling over his shoulders and back, the dark of it a sudden contrast to the light shining upon him.

“Very good, er-ge,” Nie Huaisang said, and he even sounded sincere for once. “You’re so good to me. Now just one more thing before you go, one tiny little small thing, just for me…?”

“Yes, Huaisang?” Lan Xichen asked, patient as always. “What do you want from me?”

“I want you to suck my cock,” Nie Huaisang said.

Lan Xichen blinked. He couldn’t have heard that right.

But, no, Nie Huaisang, who was lying back on the bed, was gesturing downwards in an unmistakable fashion, drawing Lan Xichen’s eyes to the place where he’d been avoiding looking where Nie Huaisang was visibly half-hard, or perhaps even a little bit more than that, his cock standing at attention - the only part of him showing even the slightest inclination to stand, really.

“Huaisang, really!” Lan Xichen was a little shocked at the extent of Nie Huaisang’s breach of propriety. There was laziness and the sort of thing you could ask someone who wasn’t even really your brother to do, but something like this… “You can’t ask something like that!”

“Why not?” Nie Huaisang asked. He was pouting. “But I want it, er-ge. I can’t fall asleep like this.”

“It’s not – I – it isn’t – you can’t just ask someone for something like that, Huaisang,” Lan Xichen tried to explain, floundering a little in search of words. Shouldn’t it be self-evident that you couldn’t just ask someone to suck your cock? Especially someone like Lan Xichen, who was Nie Huaisang’s older brother dear friend and sworn brother, someone who had been especially asked by Nie Mingjue to watch over Nie Huaisang and take care of him.

“I’m not asking someone,” Nie Huaisang pointed out, sounding perfectly calm and reasonable as if his request weren’t the wildest thing Lan Xichen had ever heard. “I’m asking you. Er-ge, you love me, don’t you? You have to take care of me, I’m your responsibility, you promised – you can’t leave me like this. If you don’t do it, I won’t be able to fall asleep. I’ll just lie here all night, getting more and more uncomfortable and miserable and it’ll be awful…”

“But –”

“Or worse,” Nie Huaisang said. He was looking straight at Lan Xichen, his gaze steady and his demeanor quite relaxed; it seemed as though he wasn’t nervous about this request in the slightest. “Worse, I’ll cry. I’ll cry and make a big fuss and all those people will come rushing over, we’ll have to calm them down and explain, and all because er-ge couldn’t spare me just a few minutes of his precious time –”

“You cannot guilt trip me into – into this,” Lan Xichen protested. “Huaisang, that’s not how this works.”

“But it really won’t take that long, I promise,” Nie Huaisang wheedled, as if that was Lan Xichen’s objection to the whole thing. “I’m already so hard, I just need a little bit and I’ll be done. Honestly, er-ge, it’ll take you less time to do it than to argue with me.”

Sadly, he was probably right about that. Nie Huaisang could get ridiculously stubborn, even bull-headed, when he wanted to be, just like any other Nie.

“And don’t you want me to go to sleep? I just need to get the edge off, er-ge. Won’t you help me? Pleeeease?”

This was ridiculous. Nie Huaisang couldn’t be serious. Lan Xichen couldn’t be serious, if he were actually thinking of giving in – of sighing and actually leaning forward to just do it, with Nie Huaisang laying back on his pillows and spreading his legs – he wasn’t really going to…

It really would probably be faster, though. Nie Huaisang could be so stubborn, and he probably really would kick up a terrible sort of fuss if Lan Xichen didn’t agree, drawing all sorts of people over. They’d have questions, too, no doubt, and Lan Xichen would have to explain why he was standing here in Nie Huaisang’s bedroom with Nie Huaisang lacking even a stitch of clothing – and maybe Nie Huaisang would even actually tell them why he was being so obnoxious and interrupting their rest; he had no shame at all. And it wasn’t as if what he were asking were that difficult to do – just a few minutes, really, and it’d be over, and then Nie Huaisang would go to sleep and Lan Xichen be able to say with all sincerity that he’d made sure Nie Huaisang didn’t stay up too late, just the way he’d promised himself he would.

It would be so much easier if he just gave in.

“Er-ge, er-ge, aren’t I your responsibility? Aren’t you supposed to care for me? Can’t you care for me now?”

“Oh all right,” Lan Xichen said, giving in, because he always gave in. “Just this once.”

“Just this once,” Nie Huaisang agreed at once, and before Lan Xichen could wonder if that was a lie his hands were already in Lan Xichen’s hair, guiding his head down. It wasn’t something Lan Xichen had experience in, but it really wasn’t that bad, actually – for all his fussiness, Nie Huaisang was fastidious, meticulously clean and without too much scent to weigh him down, so he just tasted of skin and sweat, the feeling of him heavy on Lan Xichen’s tongue. His cock wasn’t as long as Lan Xichen’s, which was only to be expected given the difference in their sizes, though Lan Xichen found that he was surprisingly thick, making it feel as though Nie Huaisang were filling all of Lan Xichen’s mouth as he rolled his hips and moved Lan Xichen’s head up and down.

It was nice of Nie Huaisang to take so much initiative in this. Lan Xichen didn’t have to worry about technique or skill or anything like that, just had to keep his mouth open and try his best to apply his tongue or try to suck, following Nie Huaisang’s instructions – “Yes, good, er-ge, just like that, uh-huh, suck a little harder now…mm, yes, that feels good! You’re making me feel so good, er-ge. Now use your tongue on the tip, swirl it around a little, yes, just like that…it’s really not for nothing they say that you’re perfect, is it? You’re so good at everything you do, even this.”

It went on a little longer than Lan Xichen had expected – to hear Nie Huaisang tell it earlier, he should have released the second Lan Xichen put his mouth on him – but after a while Nie Huaisang guided his head further and further down, until Lan Xichen’s nose was buried against the wiry hair at the base of Nie Huaisang’s cock and his eyes were watering, and then he came in Lan Xichen’s mouth, hands fisted tightly in his hair and voice crooning, gently encouraging Lan Xichen to swallow it all down.

Lan Xichen pulled off with a slight pop, still unable to believed he’d just done something like that. To Nie Huaisang, no less!

“All right, you’re done now,” he said, trying to gather his dignity about him. “Now go to sleep.”

“I will, I will,” Nie Huaisang agreed. “But first you need to get undressed, too.”

“What?” Lan Xichen exclaimed. “No, absolutely not. Why would I do that?”

“You have to! You can’t possibly go to sleep all dressed up like that, you’ll ruin your nice clothes right when you need them for the discussion conference,” Nie Huaisang said, and he even sounded practical about it. “Come on, off they go.”

“But I’m not going to be sleeping here, it’s not necessary, they assigned me a room of my own,” Lan Xichen protested. “I’ll take them off when I get to my room –”

“Oh come on, er-ge,” Nie Huaisang whined. “Stop making a fuss already! I want someone to cuddle with. Just for a little bit, all right? You can get up and go back to your room once I’m asleep –”

Somehow, and Lan Xichen really didn’t know how, he found himself pulling off his own outer layer robes and lying down in bed. It ended up being a bit of a process, mostly because he had to ignore the fact that he was now hard himself – totally normal, he supposed, given what he’d been doing, but completely irrelevant. He wasn’t going to do anything about it, that was for sure! That would be thoroughly inappropriate. He was just going to lie here for a little while to make sure Nie Huaisang actually went to sleep and didn’t go make his ridiculous, unseemly requests to other people, people who’d actually get angry at him if he said something like that to them, and then Lan Xichen was going to go back to his room and meditate until the problem went away. The way he was supposed to.

To add insult to injury, Nie Huaisang wouldn’t even let him cuddle him.

“No, no, you’re too warm, you’re too warm!” Nie Huaisang scolded. “How am I supposed to sleep if you’re hanging all over me? You turn around, I’ll hug you. That’ll work better.”

Lan Xichen found himself lying on his side with Nie Huaisang curled up around him. It was surprisingly comfortable, actually: Nie Huaisang was just as soft as he’d ever imagined he would be, his bones insulated by a nice warm layer of extra fat that felt good pressed against his back, his weight a pleasant sort of firmness. Lan Xichen could even imagine drifting off like this.

Deep breath, he told himself. Just take one deep breath after another, relax, let the tension go. It’s not for much longer, after all. You just need to wait until Nie Huaisang falls asleep –

He felt Nie Huaisang’s hand move a little against his side, which was fine, he needed to put it somewhere, and then slide down to his hip, which, okay, he was stretching a bit, didn’t everyone do that before bed, and then, just as Lan Xichen was finally making some tiny bit of progress in relaxing, he felt a pressure in a place where he really shouldn’t feel anything at all.

“Huaisang,” he hissed, feeling his face and ears turn hot. “What are you doing?”

And where had he even gotten the slick that he’d used to wet his finger with, to make it able to slide so easily into Lan Xichen’s body?

“Nothing,” Nie Huaisang said, which was obviously a lie. He had a finger inside Lan Xichen’s ass, and he was saying it was nothing?!

“This is not nothing, Huaisang.”

“Okay, fine, you’ve got me, it’s not nothing.” Nie Huaisang didn’t stop, though, just kept moving his finger in and out, then pulled it out, slicked up his fingers even more – there was a jar somewhere behind Lan Xichen’s back that had come from who-knew-where, it must have been hidden behind the pillow or something – and pressed in two this time. “It’s fine, though.”

“It’s not…!”

“It is,” Nie Huaisang said, and his voice was unusually stern, making Lan Xichen falter, a lifetime of habitual obedience to stern taskmasters kicking in. “It’s all right, er-ge. It’s okay. Just let me do it – it’ll be good, for both of us. It’ll feel so good…”

But how could Lan Xichen agree? No matter how weak he was, no matter how indulgent, there was a line too far, and Nie Huaisang had gone beyond pushing it to past it, far past it. There was no way Lan Xichen was going to lie here and agree to let Nie Huaisang fuck him, because that was obviously where this was going.

“You don’t have to say yes, er-ge,” Nie Huaisang whispered, his breath hot on Lan Xichen’s ear. “Just don’t say no. Is that okay? You don’t have to do anything. In fact, that’s perfect. Just don’t do anything at all, just let it happen – isn’t it easier that way? Better that way? You can even hide your face in the blankets if you want.”

And somehow Lan Xichen found himself on his knees, with his legs spread and his ass in the air, his face buried in the blankets to hide his shame as Nie Huaisang fingered him. His cock felt heavy and tight between his legs, the feeling of it hot, and it took all those years of self-control that he’d worked so hard on to keep from rocking his hips back into Nie Huaisang’s too-skilled grasp.

“You know, it’s a little funny,” Nie Huaisang said, pulling his fingers out. “Da-ge would be so happy that you’d finally gotten me to exercise.”

“Huaisang!” Lan Xichen exclaimed, horrified. “You can’t mention your brother while you’re – ahhh.”

That last part was because Nie Huaisang had chosen that exact moment to press his cock against Lan Xichen’s well-stretched well-slicked hole and slide right in with a single thrust, making Lan Xichen choke on his own breath.

“You’re so good to me, er-ge,” Nie Huaisang said, keeping still to let Lan Xichen adjust to the feeling of it, thick and hot inside of him, a tight sort of pressure that rubbed against all the good places that Nie Huaisang’s fingers had been rubbing up against earlier. “So good, so nice. You do everything I ask. Anything I ask. You’re so good to me…you feel so good around me…”

And then he started moving.

Lan Xichen probably should have said something at that point. Something. He should have called upon his authority as Nie Huaisang’s elder brother (at least by proxy) and told him to stop, told him he was going too far. He should have done something. He should have done anything other than just lie there and take it, getting fucked within an inch of his life, with the only sounds he was able to make being bitten-off moans and pants, gasping for air as Nie Huaisang pushed deep into him.

He should have done something, but he couldn’t. He was absolutely helpless, unable to do anything but keep his legs wide to give Nie Huaisang better access and try to muffle his groans in the blankets, his hands fisting against them as if to give himself strength – he could feel that thick girth again, stretching him open wide, fucking into him, and how was Nie Huaisang so good at this? How did he know exactly how to pull Lan Xichen open wide and press against every pleasure point inside of him?

At least he could comfort himself that he wasn’t doing anything affirmative to Nie Huaisang. He could cling onto that last fact, ignore the fact that he was hard as a rock, harder than he’d ever been in his life – that was as it should be; this was for Nie Huaisang, not for him. He wasn’t doing anything…

Nie Huaisang touched him.

“Huaisang!” he cried out, feeling Nie Huaisang’s clever fingers wrap around his cock. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t you want me to have a good time, er-ge?” Nie Huaisang asked, and Lan Xichen could hear the beginning of a pout in his voice. “I want to have a good time, I want to get what I want. And what I want is for you to come on my cock.”

Lan Xichen was rendered speechless.

“I want you to come while I’m fucking you,” Nie Huaisang told him, and his hand was working Lan Xichen’s cock even as he continued to thrust relentlessly inside his body. “I want to feel you clench around me when you do, and then I want to keep fucking you past the point where it’s comfortable, just like one of your stupid Lan sect punishments about enduring or something like that. I want to use your body like it’s my toy, use you for as long as I want, in whatever way I want –”

Lan Xichen came with a choked-off cry.

Nie Huaisang lived up to his word, too, his hand working him through it, helping him empty his cock until it was soft and then putting both hands on his hips and fucking into him even harder, using him harshly while Lan Xichen just lay there and took it, and then he pushed all the way in deep and came inside of him with a deep, heart-felt groan.

Lan Xichen stared blankly into the blanket as Nie Huaisang pulled out and managed to conjure up a towel out of nowhere, wiping them down and grumbling about how sticky he was, how uncomfortable in the heat. He couldn’t believe they’d just done that. He couldn’t believe he’d just let Nie Huaisang – just let Nie Huaisang fuck him, just laid there like some whore and let Nie Huaisang put his cock up his ass –

“Oh! Hold on, er-ge, I nearly forgot.”

Nie Huaisang wiggled around a bit behind him, and suddenly the next thing Lan Xichen knew there was something being pressed into him, something big and metal, sun-warm but still cooler than his over-heated skin.

“Huaisang,” he yelped, the sound practically punched out of him as whatever it was settled inside of him. “What even is that?”

“It’s a plug,” Nie Huaisang said, and Lan Xichen made a semi-incoherent noise of disbelief. “It keeps the come inside of you and keeps you all stretched open. It’s made for long-term use, which means you can wear it all day!”

Lan Xichen was not going to wear a plug all day. They were at a discussion conference!

“Yeah, exactly,” Nie Huaisang said. “You wear it and then during the day, right when it’s all getting to be too much, I’ll come in and find you – probably crying – and you’ll look apologetically at everyone about the fuss I’m making and take me to another room to calm me down. They’ll all understand. And then, just when they’re all standing around talking about how silly I am and how nice you are for taking care of me for all of them, you’ll stand up against the door and I’ll be able to put it in you right away, no need for prep. I’ll stuff you full of my cock, fill you right up with all of them right next door and none the wiser. Wouldn’t that be fun, er-ge? I’ll fuck you and fill you full of come, and then I’ll put the plug back in and you’ll have to walk back into the room all full of it. You’ll have to sit right back down and go back to playing the perfect First Jade of Lan and none of them will have the slightest idea…”

Lan Xichen had gotten hard again at some point. He wasn’t sure when exactly, whether it had been when Nie Huaisang had been treating him like a fucktoy or when he’d come inside of him, when he’d put the plug in him, or maybe when he’d started talking. It was terrible, really; the curse of his bloodline, to have too much stamina and too much libido and to be completely unable to control themselves. His hips were already moving – he’d turned around at some point and started rubbing up against Nie Huaisang’s hip, seeking relief.

“Again, er-ge?” Nie Huaisang pouted. “But I’m tired.”

Lan Xichen made an indescribable sort of high-pitched whine.

Nie Huaisang heaved a sigh. “Oh, all right,” he said. “Don’t say I never do anything for you, er-ge – if you agree to wear the plug tomorrow, I’ll let you use my thighs.”

It wasn’t Lan Xichen’s fault that he agreed. Anyone would have agreed if they were in his state, with a plug filling him up and the offer of Nie Huaisang’s thighs, warm and soft and squishy, pressed together and slicked up so that his cock could slide in against him easy as anything, tight and hot and perfect.

He was thrusting into that warm space, lost in a sea of pleasure, but not so lost that he didn’t notice when Nie Huaisang did a hand seal like the sort you used to summon your spiritual sword and then the metal plug inside of Lan Xichen started moving.

Lan Xichen shouted.

“Did I forget to mention it does that?” Nie Huaisang asked, giggling. “It’s the same principle as a sword or a saber – not quite as effective, of course, I can’t get it to come across the room to me, but I can make it move a little bit, make it vibrate…feels good, doesn’t it?”

It felt good. It felt very good.

“Now put your back into it,” Nie Huaisang ordered. “I’m planning on going to sleep soon, and if you don’t finish before I do, then the plug will just end up being active all night long.”

Lan Xichen whined again and redoubled his efforts. Luckily, Nie Huaisang wasn’t actually that cruel; he didn’t go straight to sleep, choosing instead to experiment with the plug – he could get it to alternate between the buzzing vibration that seemed to be its default state and making it move back and forth, a few fingers’ lengths at a time, so that Lan Xichen was fucking into Nie Huaisang’s thighs while Nie Huaisang’s spiritual energy fucked into him from behind.

Between the two types of stimulation, Lan Xichen was able to come pretty fast even though it was his second time. It was a relief. He didn’t know what he’d do if Nie Huaisang had left the plug moving. He didn’t know if he’d be able to ignore it and go to sleep the way he should – it was already so late at night, far past the appropriate bedtime – or if he’d just keep going, endlessly stimulated, having no choice but to come and fuck and fuck and come all night long like some sort of mindless beast seeking nothing but pleasure.

Nie Huaisang used another hand seal to deactivate the plug, as he’d promised. “Well done, er-ge,” he said approvingly. “You take such good care of me! You’re the best.”

Lan Xichen nodded tiredly. He’d better be, after all the effort he’d just put in.

“Now let’s go to sleep. And don’t forget not to remove the plug tomorrow – remember, you promised!”

Lan Xichen was so sleepy he couldn’t even say anything, even though he was pretty sure he ought to scold Nie Huaisang for being so impertinent. It was a really bad habit of his, always pushing what he could get…really, Lan Xichen ought to give him a stern talking to, and he would, too, tomorrow, once he had a bit more energy. He’d make clear that Nie Huaisang couldn’t just do things like that.

Or, well, at least he oughtn’t do them with any one other than Lan Xichen, anyway. Not everyone was as understanding as Lan Xichen was – not everyone would indulge him as much as Lan Xichen did, always giving in to his every whim and agreeing to his wildest requests.

Hmm. Maybe Lan Xichen really was spoiling Nie Huaisang a little bit too much.

But with Nie Huaisang’s hand stroking his side and the feeling of contentment and satisfaction deep in his bones as he fell asleep, it was really hard for Lan Xichen to regret it.

#mdzs #lan xichen #nie huaisang #my fic #my fics #spoiled #NHS is both a pillow princess and a top #depending on his mood

[f-f-friend]

Prompt: Nie Huaisang, Meng Yao, Lan Xichen, and Nie Mingjue playing some game together. Da-ge and Er-ge are completely defeated by sneaky baby bros NHS and MY

A/N: anon im so sorry i saw ur ask in the afternoon but it completely slipped my mind... then when i was halfway through typing this my tumblr refreshed and i lost EVERYTHING.... anyway here it is! i managed to post it despite all the mishaps... hope u enjoy! idk any games.. 

title: king of hearts 

Family game night, Lan Xichen thinks, is an invention by demons living in the deepest depths of hell. It is designed for the sole purpose of tearing families apart, and severing lifelong relationships. Whoever thinks this stuff is for promoting family bonding has NOT experienced the heartbreaking reality of it. Xichen sits on a cushion in his own living room, and he is completely crushed. Surrounding him are the faces of men who were once like family to him, but are now nothing more than enemies waiting to kick him while he’s down. He’s never felt so betrayed. 

Huaisang – Didn’t he help Mingjue raise him, doesn’t he always treat him like a little brother? When he gets sick, doesn’t Xichen always take care of him? When he failed that important test, and he was afraid to show his parents, who was the one to comfort him, and personally accompany him to tell his parents the truth? Who painted that fan that Huaisang is currently waving in front of his face, as he laughs at Xichen’s misfortune? 

And Guangyao – they’ve known each other since they were teenagers! Aren’t they in love? Xichen thinks they are; Just a few nights ago, he remembers, when Mingjue was asleep, Xichen (hopped up on coffee) and Guangyao (insomniac) had read boring documents to each other until they were too sleepy to talk anymore. Also, they’d gotten engaged, like, three months ago! Was all his affection, all his love, were they all lies? 

Xichen stares at the “Draw 4″ card in his hands, shaking with rage and sadness. 

“I had to give it to you, you have to believe me!” Guangyao desperately tries to convince him, his big eyes blinking. His voice trembles with feigned emotion. 

“I no longer know if I should believe you.” 

So this is what it feels like to be stabbed in the back, and by the ones you trusted the most in the world! Xichen stares at the faces of the two men who he once loved, now turned against him. His heart is shattering into a million pieces. Guangyao had struck the killing blow, and Huaisang had stood by, hiding his smiles behid his fan – but the fan couldn’t block out sound, so Xichen clearly heard him giggling at his plight.

At least Mingjue is still somewhat on his side. He’s the only one that looked at him with pity after he got the card, patting his hand (stuffed full of UNO cards, mostly thanks to Guangyao) comfortingly. 

Family game night is hell! Mingjue and Xichen had already lost a combined grand total of 20 different card and board games over the past four hours. Meanwhile, the two smug gremlins sitting across from them have taken turns to win each game. If this carries on, there’s bound to be a breakup. 

“Why don’t we play a different game?” Guangyao asks, smiling. “Since you two aren’t doing so well in this one either.” 

Mingjue, who’d looked like he was preparing to beat Guangyao up with the paper box that the UNO cards deck came in, melts when he sees Guangyao’s big eyes. Xichen would laugh at him for signing up so readily for his own destruction, but he’s no better. He sighs. 

“Fine. What next?” 

#3zun #nie mingjue #lan xichen #jin guangyao #nie huaisang #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #mdzs fic #my writing #answered #anonymous