#baby da-ge

[ultfreakme]

Need way way more content of Jin Guangyao and Jiang Cheng co-parenting Jin Ling because its CANON. It’s not even an exaggeration like that’s what HAPPENED. They shared custody each for half a year BRUH.

(on that note do you think Lan Xichen was dying inside because Jiggy and Jiang Cheng had some amicable coparenting situation going on with no problems though they barely knew each other before but despite his best effort he just COULD NOT make JGY and NMJ get along without it getting messy for like 10 seconds?)

#jiang cheng #jin guangyao #lan xichen #lan xichen like: look nmj and jc are both.....passionate...let's say & you can get along with him- why not da-ge? #Jin gyangyao: idfk man if he just calmed down i might(the reason he is not calm) #Jiang Cheng watching the 3zun mess from the sidelines holding baby Jin Ling

[madtomedgar]

I hope y'all don't hold my Jiang Cheng distaste against me too hard. If it helps, I only dislike him for incredibly stupid reasons. Like you are all probably 100% correct about him, but alas my heart in this case is impervious.

#untamed stuff #annoying little brothers in fiction are just... not my thing #wei wuxian is annoying but in a way that is fun for me to watch #he can be 100% wrong and a dickhead and im like. lol. lmao. 5 oclock somewhere #meanwhile jiang cheng can be objectively correct and i like... #want to chuck him in the lake #wen ning is a little brother but not annoying #nie huaisang also i want to throw in a lake #im with da ge on that one #jin ling is annoying but not a little brother so he is also safe #lan wangji is not annoying even though he is a spoiled baby and a dick sometimes #you understand

[thedeadthree]

the high stakes tennis match between asoiaf, dragon age, and tes in the ol leg brain at the moment ✨😵‍💫

#leg replays skyrim #leg.txt #i have began……. developing the post dance clowns ✨😵‍💫 #and finally putting things down on PAPER (well like google docs and notion and a cute family tree maker ✨☺️) #for the asoiaf babies….. proud of myself though! #GRATEFUL TO THE ASOIAF BABIES FOR MAKING ME ACTUALLY FUCKING COMMIT TO DEVELOPING A VERSE like…… it’s so rare for me? #the ones that have achieved that are fallout / tes / d*ragon a*ge / amr and fernweh <3 #SPEAKING OF THE DRAGONS i finished absolution and WAHHHH the way i miss my da babies so much ✨😵‍💫🤍🤍😖 #and i need to play my new world state bc ……. hehee yea <3 #étiennette may also not be a hawke anymore though i do see her as being the companion to her? and she still marries seb! #I JUST REALIZED HOW I AM A BUFFOON WHEN IT COMES TO MY BABY F*ENRIS and i need my hawke to end up with him i have toooo ✨😖 #i also want to have a trevelyan who isn’t the inquisitor but an ally of lhysas but like….. whomst the new baby ends up with in that then ✨👀 #also in regards to tes……… vinda has been through a LOT lately ✨😵‍💫 #i finished the dark brotherhood and thieves guild quest lines and!!!!! #other than liri! karliah looked at murder baby and was like..! new child acquired! sksjxjx she has another adopted mom <3 #also not brynjolf turning to caranthir and being like ‘if you won’t take her mind if I do?’ ✨😏 #and cara was about to turn him into a FROG sksjxjx ✨😠 #at this point they are like……. VERY VERY close now ✨🤡 #i think tomorrow ill do a few lore postings for the tes and asoiaf babiess <3

[bluelockmaniac]

reaction to you wearing a bikini - reo & nagi (separate)

ft. reo, nagi cw: mentions of gunfire (video games), fem! reader

reo

in preparation for an upcoming pool party with your friends, you had asked your boyfriend to accompany you bikini shopping at the mall. of course, reo, being the filthy rich man he is, agreed to take you to the finest boutiques (he wants you to look better than your friends).

reo followed you across the mall, patiently waiting as you window shopped at each clothes store. after picking out a large selection of bikinis without a care in the world, you hurried to the fitting room.

when you first left the room, his eyes widened like never before; he was entranced by your beauty- captivated by the way the lace ties hugged the sides of your hips ever so tightly.

"woah," he'd finally manage to say, "you look gorgeous..."

you giggled at his compliment and an hour later, you finished trying on all of the bikinis and had thrown them into your shopping basket.

"so, reo, which one looked the best on me? which one should i ge-", before you could finish your sentence, he cuts you off while waving his card in front of you. "all of them. you're getting all of 'em."

you give him a soft frown before pinching his cheek gently. "baby, i don't need twenty-three bikinis, i just n-"

your efforts were futile as reo was already talking to the lady at the cashier.

nagi

for the past thirty minutes, you've been on a facetime call begging nagi to come over so he could compare, rate, and choose the perfect bikinis for you. after all, summer vacation was right around the corner, and you had to prepare the ideal beach wardrobe that would enhance your appearance. so why was nagi refusing to come over, arguing it would be a hassle, despite your persistent pleading? "nagi," you sighed, rubbing your temples in frustration, "can't you just come over? you could bring your nintendo switch too, ya know?" "...nah, 'tis too much of a hassle..." he mumbles softly while concentrating on the rather graphic game running on his computer, flashing lights bouncing off his face and loud gunfire sounds distracting him from focusing on you. then a thought hit you, one that he wouldn't, more accurately couldn't, resist.

so, here you were, posing for nagi and changing into one bikini after another, after drawing his focus away from his ridiculous game and insisting he needed to concentrate on you. upon first noticing your silence, he wasn't concerned and shrugged it off indifferently- that was until he heard your voice calling him from the other end of his phone. "ta-da~" you'd croon, quietly laughing at the look your boyfriend wore—his lips were slightly parted, a light pink blush dusting his pale cheeks. "holy shit," he'd finally gasp, not realizing he was holding in his breath from the breathtaking sight of your half-nude body on his screen, "change into the next one for me, baby." to say the least, you were pleased with yourself for having managed to redirect nagi's attention away from his beloved video games and onto you.

comments are very much appreciated, thank you!!!

#bllk #bllk x reader #bllk fluff #blue lock #bllk manga #seishiro nagi x reader #bllk nagi #nagi x reader #seishiro nagi #nagi seishiro #mikage reo #reo mikage #blue lock nagi #blue lock x reader #reo blue lock #reo bllk #reo x reader #bllk reo #mikage reo x reader #blue lock reo

[artsy-alice]

☕️ OctoberKofiRun23 Day 13 for @whereisfic

da-ge with two extra baby brothers 🤭💕

#nie mingjue #wen ning #lan wangji #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #mdzs modern au #OctoberKofiRun23 #(art) #(fanart) #(November2023)

[desswright29]

BACK THAT AZZ UP!!

A/n: A short story

You and Shuri sit in your shared bedroom, relaxing from a long trip. You all had just gotten in from a trip to Florida, where she finally met your family. To your surprise it went perfectly well. Great even! She mingled with your family perfectly. Asking questions, laughing, drinking, talking, and dancing. They loved her especially her swag. The girl cousins were swooning, and the boy cousins were impressed. She kept disappearing with the guys on occasion and spent most of the trip hanging out with them, which you found enduring. That is until today.

    Shuri sat body leaned back against the headboard, one leg straight the other bent casually with one hand resting behind her head. She was on her American phone with head phones on, scrolling through tik tok as you did the same. She looked good af (as usual) with her hair braided back, dark green silk pajamas on, the top completely unbuttoned showing her matching lace bralette and waist beads that held her strap. She continuously giggled at her phone, causing you to keep stealing glances loving the sound of her laugh and also the way her abs would contract with each laugh. She looks up at you and tucks her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes lowered and she reached over slightly gripping your forearm. “Babyyy” She says voice low and seductive. “Hmm?” You say staring at your beautiful woman’s body in a trance. 

“I want some coochie” she says in her best southern accent. Your eyes snap up from her abs to her eyes as your mouth falls open in confusion. “You what?” 

“I want some coochie. Ain’t das how y’all say it in the souf.” She kept up with the southern accent that if it hadn’t been for her heavy African accent, might’ve been spot on. “Girl! What the fuck is going on?” You say stifling laughter. She smiles, lifting one of her brows. “You aint gon’ give me no coochie shawty? I know you want to. I seen you looking.” 

“Please stop!” you say finally breaking into laughter. She keeps up her act, standing on the bed looking down at you sedcuctively “Nah, I know how to make that pussy wet bae, imma dance fuh ya.”  

“What is happening! I gotta be in the twilight zone.”  You shake your head.

“Griot! Play “Back that Azz Up”  by Juvenille” 

“I just know she’s not.” The beat began to play and you had the biggest grin on your face as  Shuri moved to stand over top of you. She rocked from side to side. Her right hand coming up to the left side of her chest as she beat the rhythm into it. “You ready for this baby?” At this point you’re excited, so you yell “Give it to me baby!” As the beat drops, Shuri crosses her arm across her body pretending to grab ass as she thrust her hips to the beat over top of you.  

Girl you working with some ass yea you bad yea.

You bad yea.

“They said this is how to catch the ass when you throw it back at me.” You scream at the top of your lungs laughing. Tears welling up in your eyes. “OMG! Shuri I can’t breathe!” As funny as it was, Shuri was sexy af. You were tickled and turned on as she continued to give you Magic Mike realness. You hyped her up as you screamed the lyrics underneath her, and the hook began.

Girl you looks good 

Wont you back that Azz up

“YOU’S A FINE MUTHA FUCKA!” You say with your chest pointing at Shuri with two fingers. Shuri took her hands and flapped the fabric of her opened silk shirt behind her as she rolled her hips down in squat and began to pop her ass and rock side to side at the same time. 

“Call me BIG DADDY! When you back that Azz up” She sang along with the song. 

Shuri danced her ass off for you singing her favorite parts of the lyrics to you.

“You can do a trick yea on the dick yea”

“Them titties sittin’ right yea, I wanna bite yea. I could fuck you right yea, all night yea. Wanna bring it to my house yea, on the couch yea, knock the pussy out yea, get ‘em out yea!” She screamed! 

“Hand me the water babe!” She tells you and you reach to the night stand and get the bottle of water to hand to her. She takes it and begans to slowly pour it over her chest making it drip down her body as she did a body roll rubbing it in. You squeal in delight! Cheering your girlfriend on. 

As the song ended she collapsed on top of you as both of you went into a fit of laughter!

“These mutha fuckas don’ contaminated my baby! I knew better than to let you hang with them. They took you to a strip club didnt they!”You laugh. 

“Yes my love, but they didn’t have anything on you though sthandwa!”

“Oh I know that!” You bite your lip as she lay on your chest. “That shit was sexy though baby.” She looked up at you mirroring your expression. “Yea?” She says. “ Hell yea! Accent and all!” You lower your eyes. “You still want that coochie?” She smiles and sits up on her knees with a quickness. She grabs both of your legs and yanks pulling you down and then hovers over you. 

“I’m finna beat dat lil pussy up” she whispers. 

“Fuck me big daddy” you moan.

And that she did. 

A/n: Should I write the sex scene?

#letitia wright #letitiawright #shuri udaku #shuri x reader #shuri fanfiction #shuri imagine #shuri x you #spotify #shuri fic #Spotify

[ueasking]

"I went through a dark period that no one else knew of." Three years after All Star Sports Day aired, Chris Chiu's career should have been bigger, but he felt lost once again. "What more did I have to offer to the entertainment business? Those who entered showbiz around the same time as I did seemed to all be doing very well, while I seemed to be stuck in the same place." Once someone turns 30, society has certain expectations of them, so he held himself up to those same standards, and even beat down on himself. He then decided to start working out to feel better, "god is very interesting, every time I start working out, change follows." He smiles and says, "Wei Qian came two, three months later. The very first time I heard this name, I felt this jolt in my heart."

Chris Chiu shared that actors have this saying that characters have souls, they'll find someone suitable, and use that person to send a message to an audience. The BL drama Unknown is based on the novel Da Ge by Chinese author Priest. It tells the story of Wei Qian, who was abused by his drug-addict mother for the better part of his childhood. Once his parents passed, he shouldered the responsibility of taking care of the family. He raised his baby sister, who he's related to by blood, and younger brother, who he adopted from the streets, on his own. At a young age, he dropped out of school, got involved in gang activity, and worked odd jobs. As he grew up in hardship, his sensitive younger brother started developing feelings for him that went beyond that of a sibling. During that dark period when the future was unknown, there was this synchronicity between Chris Chiu and Wei Qian. He said that reading the novel itself felt like he was being comforted and saved.

"Wei Qian looks like he's very strong, but on the inside, he really needs to be loved. It's just that he believes that he doesn't deserve to be loved, which is why he put up a shield to block out the outside world. If someone starts showing love when you're in despair, little by little, the shield starts to crack and you start to realize that you do indeed deserve to be loved, and that you are not alone." This character was by Chris Chiu's side as he walked out of his funk, and through Chris, taught everyone going through a hard time to believe that someone will be by your side looking over you just like the sun. "Compared to loving oneself, I believe that loving someone else will challenge your limits, make you forget about your own limitations, and realize that you're very strong."

Note: There's some overlap in content with an instagram post Chris made a little over a month ago, but I really liked this interview, so I thought that I'd share the parts that are related to Unknown.

#unknown #unknown the series #關於未知的我們 #chris chiu #chiu yi chen #*unknown

[r95irth]

Lan Xichen complained about NMJ’s mustache ONCE and MY went on a mission to get his er-ge happy and his da-ge mustache freed. Yes it’s a bit of manipulation but meh, he gets accused of it anyways later so he might as well actually do it…for a greater cause.

joke aside drawing da ge without his mustache was weird xD like WHO IS THIS BABY WITH A SABER???

#meng yao #nie mingjue #lan xichen #nie huaisang #mustache #MY mustach u a question dage #Xiyao #doodles #my art

[tinesleftnipple]

Ahaha i have to talk about the 2 epilogues in the original novel Da Ge.

Epilogue 1: san pang (who is married to a dif character) brings his wife and daughter over and WZY answers the door, while WQ is still not up. San pang brings his baby daughter to find WQ but before that asks if there' are's anything inappropriate for kids in the room. WZY gives him something like a slight lenny face. Later WQ about to get up and tells them to leave so he could "change" but before exiting the room san pang catches a glimpse of all the hickies on WQ and was like, to WZY, i thought your room was safe for kids!

Epilogue 2: Xiao bao about to get married and WQ is feeling a sense of loss. They're lying in bed and WQ's talking about it. WZY on the other hand has this intrusive happiness because from now on nobody will fight for WQ's affection with him. Then he distracts WQ with some Physical Exercise in bed. Afterwards they're just saying nothings and WZY bites his finger. WQ says, that's enough baobei (baby), i can't take another round, let me sleep.

brb screaming. If they even include a sliver of any of this in the drama i will rise from my coffin.

#unknown the series #da ge by priest #one can dream

[ladypeonies]

How the hell did they all come from a different bedroom???? LOL Where are the deleted scenes?

So in my head it went like this:

The three conspirators (Yuan, Lili and the baby daddy) where talking about how to tell Da Ge at the kitchen table while drinking lukewarm water and watching the ultrasound. They had a plan, had removed all the knives and everything. But then they heard Qian come and panic arose and it was each man for himself, hence coming from different bedrooms.

Lili couldn't face her brother's disappointment.

Yuan had finally managed to conquer Qian's bed and his heart and he couldn't risk 4 years of exile again for hiding the baby news.

San Pang was just running for his life and rightfully so. He was so lucky he came out of it unscathed.

#unknown the series spoilers #unknown the series #unknown bl #chris chiu #kurt huang #Unknown EP 12 #lol #unknown funny or cute moments

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

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1. Itmf best brother nmj/nmj is everyone’s da ge.

🧡 Where's Your Emergency? by trippednfell (M, 64k, WangXian, 911 Dispatcher WWX, Single dad LWJ, Kid fic, Modern AU, D&D Games, Angst with a happy ending)

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2. I randomly came across this video recently of the Japanese Rabbit Hopping Assc. today, and I immediately felt compelled to ask if anyone has written (or possibly is inspired to write) 'actually very serious rabbit agility racer Lan Wangji'

Video link if anyone wants it lol:

Tumblr story by @/mondengel2 I took it as a prompt

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3. Hii!! I am really looking for fics with angst with happy ending (happy ending for wangxian mostly) coupled with Jiang Yanli betraying Wei Ying if there are any? Thanks!! @yilinglaobunny

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4. Hiya!!! I've got an IIMF request: fic where Wen Yuan is actually a blood heir of the Wen and that somehow factors into the story importantly (like, he's Wen Rouhan's grandson, has special Wen powers, etc). Thanks for all the hard you you all do! @kimboo-york

sami's 'Dream of Youth' and 'Hand in Hand Together' has A'Yuan as Wen Xu's bio son. It's a minor plot point though.

The Dreams of Youth by sami (E, 85k, WangXian, YZY/TLJ, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Fix-It, Family, Not Lan Sect Friendly, Bad Dads, good dads, JFM's A+ parenting, Qingheng-Jun's F- Existence, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Sort Of, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Some People Live/Not Everyone Dies, Canonical Character Death)

Hand in Hand Together (All Your Life) by sami (T, 41k, WZL/JC, WangXian, Queerplatonic relationship, Implied future MingLi, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Slow Burn)

When Flowers Spring from Killing Things by windsweptice (B0redaf) (Not rated, 100k, wangxian, Wen WWX, Demonic Cultivation, WWX Has No Golden Core, he's got a resentful one instead, Yīn Iron, WRH pov, LWJ pov, WWX pov, WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiāngs, Sentient Burial Mounds, XY Is A Little Shit, WQ pov, Protective WWX, Protective WQ, Cinnamon Roll WN, Protective WN, LXC pov, BAMF WWX, Burning of the Cloud Recesses, Fall of Lotus Pier, Cultivation Discussion Conferences, BAMF LWJ, BAMF WN, BAMF WQ, Good Person WX, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Weddings) might not be everyone's cup of tea cause he's literally wen ruohan's son

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5. Hello! ITMF a fic where WWX survived the siege at Burial Mounds and remembers that LWJ saved him that night at Nightless City. Then WWX finds out about the punishment LWJ had to go through because of that. And WWX takes LWJ to Burial Mounds to mend his scars and they end up together.

I saw a fanart of wangxian with Yilling Patriarch!WWX treating LWJ's scars and that was all I could think about.

❤️ A Myriad of Blossoms by Itszero (E, 56k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, YLLZ WWX, Hurt LWJ, Cruel wwx, he's cruel until he's not, Protective WWX, Caring WWX, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Smut, Bottom LWJ, Dark WWX) pls pls read this because based on ur request this is amazing (pls don't hate wwx in the beginning)

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6. Hello! I'm in the mood for fics where wwx is experiencing some kind of delusion or psychosis and lwj (or other characters) try to help him through it. I don't mind wether it's canon universe with the demonic cultivation being the cause, a curse or even modern au.

Thanks!

From Underneath by steppjes (M, 15k, wangxian, Character Death, Major Character Injury, Modern, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Supernatural Elements, Demons, Ghosts, Hallucinations, Grief/Mourning, Blood and Injury, Depression, Hospitals, Mutual Pining, The Troubles of Baby Acquisition, Very on brand self hate from wwx, he's going through a lot okay)

Mud on Your Feet by AvoOwO (Not Rated, 59k, WangXian, Nightmares, Sentient Burial Mounds, Possession, Panic Attacks, Night Terrors, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Good Sibling JC, Hurt WWX, Soft WangXian, Blood and Injury, Hallucinations, Delusions, JC Loves WWX, Insomnia, Good Sibling WWX, Sleepwalking, Sleeptalking, Protective JC, POV LWJ, PTSD, Post-Canon, YLLZ WWX, resentful energy, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Soft JC, Yúnmèng Siblings Feels)

let me sing to you by greybird_crookedbranch (T, 61k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, adorable Juniors, Minor Original Character(s)for plot purposes, Minor Violence, Demonic Cultivation, resentful energy, Trauma, Guilt, Protectiveness, BAMF WWX, Hurt wwx, Protective WWX, Protective LWJ, Baby Lans, WWX loving and being loved by tiny Lan babies, LWJ being utterly whipped for WWX, Mental Instability, Possession, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV LWJ, a tasteful seasoning of Yunmeng Bros Reconcilliation, CQL canon except LWJ is not chief cultivator, Nightmares)

out in the garden, there's things you hid away by saltyfeathers (E, 121k, WangXian, Possession, Animal Death, mass death event, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt(s), lotta hurt lotta comfort, wwx-centric, unfortunately there's also a bodily fluids warning, just like a lot of bodily fluids, there is sex and it is all in the last chapter, Serious Injuries, Angst with a Happy Ending, Post canon)

Something at the Door by Pip (Moirail) (E, 50k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Modern Cultivation, background 3zun, Background Yi City trio, Intrusive Thoughts, Horror, Suicidal Thoughts, Temporary Character Death, Blood, Explicit Sexual Content, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mystery, Urban Fantasy)

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7. Helloooo mods! It’s been a while! 💜 for the next itmf can i get some completed fics that explores wen ning in a romantic way? Like fluff and falling in love? Aside from JC , i don’t mind who he’s shipped with.

Thank you! 😊 @jikcf

the height of summer by la_dissonance (G, 8k, WN/LWJ/WWX, Getting Together, Romance, Accidental Courtship, On purpose courtship, Polyamory, Fluff, a small amount of pining, Love Confessions, WN/Happiness forever otp, Gift Giving, Secret Admirer)

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8. Can you please find a au marvel or Wwx as Wanda or black widow ! Thank you 😊 @brighterthanmagicalfluff

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9. Ok guys, I'm in the mood for your favorite Good Uncle LQR fics. I don't care for any other details besides that, please & thank you

小兔子 | Little Bunny by dragongirlG (T, 6k, LQR & LWJ, LXC & LQR & LWJ, LSZ & LQR, minor wangxian, POV LQR, love language: acts of service, Caring LQR, Character Study, Canon Universe, References to Canon, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Comatose QHJ, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending, Podfic Available, Good Uncle LQR)

🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 742k, WangXian, WIP, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Feelings Realization, Getting Together, Sexual Tension, Supportive LQR, Light Angst, Internalized Homophobia, Period-Typical Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, WWX learns about his parents, First Dates, First Kiss, First Time, LWJ is confused, Then he is 100 percent on board, Kink Discovery, Kink Exploration, Bisexual WWX, Dual Cultivation, Slow Burn, Fix-It of Sorts, Not JFM friendly, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff and Angst, Blood and Gore, Supportive LXC, Protective LXC, Canon Divergence, Inventor WWX, Eventual Smut, Possessive LWJ, Genius WWX, Cultivation Sect Politics, Scheming NHS, Cultivation Discussion Conferences, Pre-Sunshot Campaign, Minor Character Death, NHS gets himself a beard (not the facial kind), POV WWX, Fluff and Smut, Burning of the Cloud Recesses)

Lessons relearned by Iamnotawriter (T, 44k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Not Madam Yu Friendly, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inventor WWX, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, No Golden Core Transfer, YZY Bashing)

Skate Happy by cinder1013 (E, 12k, wangxian, Modern, Meet-Cute, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Skate disco waiter outfits, booty shorts, Inappropriate Marriage Proposal, secret wedding plans, Good Uncle LQR, Good Friend JGY, not entirely evil XY, wwx has low self-esteem, but it works out in the end, They buy a farm, wwx wears what he likes, Panties, Anal Sex, A+ parenting all around)

🔒 Baby, Beard and Birds by mondengel (G, <1k, LQR & LWJ, Fluff, Babyfic, Family)

🔒 An old kettle, a tiny teacup, and a new pot. by mondengel (G, 2k, LQR & LWJ)

Between the rotten apples lies a fresh grave by hamlets_ghost (T, 12k, LXC & LWJ, WangXian, NieLan, Modern AU, Twin Jades of Lán Dynamics, Canonical Character Death, (Madam Lan), child LXC, Child LWJ, Child Neglect, implied kidnapping, (madam lan), Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, (also madam lan), this is not a happy fic so mind the tags please, passive suicidal thoughts (but not really?), Angst with a Happy Ending, non-linear timeline, semi-explicit discribtion of a corpse (chapter 3), Slightly hinted 3zun)

When we were small by deliciousblizzardshark (T, 7k, LXC & LQR & LWJ, Implied WangXian, Modern AU, Kid Fic, Good Uncle LQR, Neurodivergent LWJ, Baby LWJ, Baby WWX, Parenthood, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, POV LQR, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort)

Discordant Rhapsody by nirejseki (T, 49k, LQR & WWX, wangxian, JC & WWX, WQ & WWX & WN, LWJ & LQR & LXC, canon divergence, fix-it, hurt/comfort, trauma, politics, protective LQR, protective LWJ, protective WWX, LQR centric, whump, angst)

through the eyes of elders series by Fleetling (T, 13k, LXC & LWJ, LXC & LQR, wangxian, LXC & WWX, LQR & WWX, CQL Canon Compliant, LQR's perspective on wangxian, mainly him being frustrated at wwx wasting his talents and then realising that oh no that backfired wangji's in love, the homeoroticness of sword fights, wangxian DOES NOT get together there's just ust and longing glances like in canon, LQR isn't bad he just wants the best for his nephew, LQR pov, LQR is a good uncle, LXC recovering from the whole JGY thing is a major part, Wingman LXC, good brothers!!!)

Good Guy Lan Qiren series by thunderwear (T, 28k, wangxian, LQR & WWX, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Golden Core Reveal, LWJ's POV, Fluff, Everyone Lives AU, LQR finds out about WWX's core, wwx and lqr are friends?? In My Fic? its more likely than you think, lwj in the bg like whats happening?, WWX goes to Gusu, Mutual Pining)

The stuffed bunny, the beautiful nephew, and other gifts from Lan Qiren by deliciousblizzardshark (G, 8k, LQR & WWX, wangxian, Modern, Single Parent WWX, Good Uncle LQR, Accidental Uncle Acquisition, Found Family, Fluff)

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10. OMG I REALLY WANT TO READ REVERSE ROLES LZ AND WWX (ex: cold WWX and troublemaker LZ, Top WWX and Bot LZ) IDK 😭 @naoenowa

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11. hi! I'd like to make an itmf req for canon era fics that feature a dark(ish) gusu lan/lan zhan, such as "hoards and treasures" by apathyinreverie which i loved. for instance, fics where the gusu lan interpret their rules with a darker lens, and where they might turn to manipulation/deceit to achieve what they consider right.

i know about "A Matter of Time", which is on my read list! but I'm also esp interested in seeing the dark gusu lan/lan zhan trope explored without time-travel elements. thank you very much! @potatokunst

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12. Hola :) , For the next In the mood for, I'm really, really interested in Lan Sizhui fics centric, specially related to Gusu Lan or his relationship with Clan Lan.

you are my chosen family by jinyinhua (T, 14k, LSZ & LJY, wangxian, LJY & LSZ & LWJ & WWX, 5+1 Things, Good Kid LJY, Good Kid LSZ, Blood and Injury, Night Hunts, Drinking, Age Regression/De-Aging, Married Wangxian, Fluff and Humor, Found Family, Gūsū Lán Juniors Dynamics)

Revolution by mrcformoso (T, 8k, WangXian, ZhuiYi, Light Angst, Happy Ending, POV LSZ, Found Family, Toxic Elders, Fatherhood, Growing Up, The Lan Juniors, LWJ Adopts LSZ, WWX is LSZ's Parent, LSZ is a polite menace, Canon Compliant, Canon Divergence, Good Uncle WN) You might need to read the other stories in the series but if you just want LSZ feels then this can stand alone :)

this blood in my mouth by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 3k, WangXian, POV LXC, Post-Canon)

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13. Hi!

For the next IMTF, I'm looking for fics where LXC finds himself a new passion and is hilariously bad at it, much to others' amusement & secondhand embarrassment. Especially lwj or lqr is suffering.

His partners, be it jgy, nmj, jc or anyone, is very supportive of lxc's passion. It could be baking, gardening, cooking, dancing etc.

For example, "The evolution of the heart" by Uglybeautiful, Radiencia..(lxc takes up magic/the art of illusion and joins a circus) @imstillthinkingaboutithmm

Magic Mishap by Regency_Bunny (T, 8k, WangXian, NieLan, Modern AU, Single parent WWX, Fluff, Humor, Kid Fic, Meet cute, Love at first sight, Himbo LXC, Magic tricks)

The Shape of Your Love (is Horny) by Vamillepudding (T, 25k, WangXian, XiYao, Urban Fantasy, Getting Together, Romantic Comedy, WWX is Bad at Being a Demon, LWJ is definitely a Monsterfucker) had a running gag about LXC taking up new hobbies that he is horrible at, including ceramics, perfume-making, knitting, etc. JGY is very supportive and LWJ and LQR try to ignore it out of politeness

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14. Hi! I’m itfm

a) tattooed lwj agenda. Specifically when his arms are tattooed and they show when he pulls up his sleeves, but anything and everything is fine

b) Ceo lwj where his employees find out he’s married or dating wwx or regular office worker lwj and his coworkers find out

Thank you! @wangxian-is-my-life

14A)

(our friendship) up against the ropes by daltoneering (E, 36k, WangXian, Modern AU, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, lan zhan FUCKS, Fluff and Smut, Experienced LWJ, Oblivious WWX, Mutual Pining, Friends With Benefits, Pining while fucking, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Spit Kink, Dirty Talk, Light Bondage, Praise Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Kink Negotiation, Pride and Prejudice 2005 (dir. Joe Wright), mentions of Wei Ying/others and Lan Zhan/others)

🔒 Craquelure & Coverups by Inessencedivided (E, 27k, wangxian, Modern, Tattoo Parlor AU, Reincarnation, Tattoo Artist WWX, Tattooed LWJ, Dreams and Nightmares, Past Lives, trauma discussions, Mutual Pining, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Chronic Pain, First Kiss, First Time, Body Worship, Non-Penetrative Sex, Happy Ending, further tw in the notes)

Tattoos for Broken Hearts by TriviasFolly (G, 1k, WangXian, Modern AU, LWJ has a Tramp Stamp Tattoo, that's the fic) lower back tattoo

14B)

like strawberries on a summer evening by ritualist (E, 15k, WangXianChengYi, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Modern AU, Accidental Voyeurism, Office Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Choking, Light Dom/sub, Light BDSM, Bratting, Light breathplay, Wei Ying says no when he means yes (and everyone understands this to be the case), Mild S&M, Spitroasting, Rimming, Porn with Feelings, Polyamory) lawyers, poly 4some

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15. Hi! For ITMF, could you recommend me a heavy plot fic in canon era before WWX died and revolve around him. It can be fix it/time travel/canon divergence/etc. No bashing except several character like YZY, JFM, LQR, JGS, WC, WLJ. You can bash them but i prefer not.

Thank you @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

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16. I saw a lwj whump in the itmf some time ago but I can't find it.

I believe it was physical lwj whump specifically, can u help please?

hope you're having a nice day

Alter by Solmae (E, 162k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Drama & Romance, Slow Burn, Canon-Typical Violence, Rape/Non-con Elements, Gang Rape, Forced Prostitution, PTSD, Top/Bottom Versatile | Switch WangXian, Explicit Sexual Content, Sexual Slavery, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Torture) LWJ is taken as a sex slave by the Wen, so definitely counts as whump

Bring Your Wonder (Lose Your Faith) by kianspo (M, 75k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Different Sunshot Campaign, straight boy wwx, Feelings Realization, Protective LXC, Protective WWX, BAMF WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, Twin Jades of Lán Feels, POV Multiple, LWJ Whump)

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17. Hi! I know this isn’t your normal ship, but could I itmf WWX/NMJ fics? I recently read “Better Things To Do With A Flute In Wartime” (a WWX/NMJ/ eventual also LWJ fic) and really liked the dynamic between WWX and NMJ. Particularly how blunt NMJ was, how he valued WWX’s mind and strength from a kind of unbiased viewpoint as a sect leader and war general, and also that they bonded over unorthodox cultivation methods. Would love to see more of this couple! Thank you so much!

An Elegant Solution by giraffeter (E, 205k, niewangxian, canon divergence, arranged marriage, friends to lovers, fix-it, everyone lives au, courtship, polyamory, smut)

Crowned in Glory (fear no more) by Pip (Moirail) (E, 19k, NMJ/WWX, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Loss of Virginity, Size Difference, Sunshot Campaign, Sexual Tension, Certified dage fucker, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex, Rimming, Canon Divergence, Butterfly Effect, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Dubious interpretation of resentful energy)

Resent & Blossom by manaika (T, 26k, NMJ/WWX, JC & WWX, LWJ & WWX, NHS & NMJ, NHS & WWX, Love Triangles, Pining, Arranged Marriage, Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, eferences to Fatal Journey, Strangers to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Murder Attempt)

Pastime (With Good Company) by nirejseki (Not rated, 25k, NMJ/WWX/LWJ, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, WWX is very thirsty, and not straight at all, same for LWJ, WIP)

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

[guqin-and-flute]

Holding Me Holding You–Ch. 7 [3zun Raise Jingyi Prequel]

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6]

[Ao3 Link]

[Holy shit, how has it been 2 years since I last updated this fic?? ANYWAY HELLO HI I MISSED YOU. We're keeping the baby, guys. CW: Disjointed, slightly nonlinear narration; negative self talk; more talk of battle aftermath, bodies (gross but no more graphic than prev chapters), and death; focus on lots of trauma to do with death and grief; general Twin Jade parental trauma; vaguest mention of child death, in that he repeatedly tells himself there isn't one and remembers part of his nightmare about Wangji/A-Fu dying]

Who are you?

‘Wen Baiqi.’

What must be done for you to rest?

‘Say goodbye. Tell her goodbye.’

It’s raining in Qishan. It’s nothing like the rain in Gusu.

Who are you?

‘Hei Xuecen.’

What must be done for you to rest?

‘All my fault all my fault ALL MY FAULT--’

This rain isn’t crisp, but disconcertingly warm. It doesn't bring life. It soaks into the ground, milling the dirt back into the blood and gore bloated mud of that night, sucking at their feet. Reeking of putrefaction. It coats Xichen’s tongue and throat.

Who are you?

Each time, there is a chance he will receive a reply from the Yiling Patriarch himself. 

‘Ye Qian.’

He never does.

What must be done for you to rest?

‘Never apologized--’

What would he do if he did?

Who are you?

What would Zewu-jun do? Clan Leader Lan?

What must be done?

Would he soothe his spirit?

Who are you?

Ghostly fingers pluck at his sleeves constantly. 

Who are you?

‘Nie Zixing. Never knew him, tell them--’

When he had first arrived, the bodies of Wei Wuxian’s Wen contingent still hung from the gate to the battleground. Or what remained of them. After scavengers, time, and the elements had had their turn. Swaying in the warm, wet breeze along with carrion birds’ cries and the distant tunes of the guqin language. Grisly pendulums. Dripping.

There is no small boy among them. He had hoped against hope, but now he knew for sure. This secret is tucked deep, deep down beneath his heart.

Who are you?

The corpses on the ground are Wen. They are Lan. They are strangers. They are Da-ge, lying bloody on the floor of the Scorching Sun Palace. They are A-Zhan.

"We should burn them like they did to our people. Scatter their ashes, so they will never rest." A venomous whisper from his own disciples, a young man, face twisted in rage.

(“They’re killing everyone,” he had choked his sobs into A-Yao’s arms. “My people--my family are all dead and I did nothing.”)

A-Yuan had been so, so pale against the sheets. So tiny compared to the infirmary bed.

“These people?" Xichen’s voice is quiet. "These cultivators that studied healing? Miles and miles from Qishan?”

Silence.

“Did they destroy our home? Did we fight them in Sunshot?”

Too little, far too late.

There is no small boy among them. There isn’t.

A-Zhan, gray and slack, eyes glassy, head lolling--

He pushes the dream-memory away.

Who are you?

‘Jin Mingni. 

My father--’

"We will bury them and hold the proper rites, as we have the rest of the fallen. And I will ask you to swear yourselves to secrecy regarding their exact resting place. In case anyone later shares your thinking.”

‘Zhou Sanniang. Never wanted to come. Save me.’

“Help me bring them down.”

There may be no small boy among the Wen, but he sees corpses all day, every day. They're in his dreams. He cannot stop seeing them. And he cannot stop seeing a boy (Afuyuanzhan) among them, from the corner of his eye.

He can never quite catch the face before he realizes there is no one actually there.

A skeletal hand is unearthed when they lift a body--a remnant of the Sunshot Campaign, years before. There were plenty of partial skeletons from that time that the Yiling Patriarch had raised to fight them. It seems some didn't have the strength to fight their way out from the mud. The death here has layers. A slow growing mountain of violence and dead and blood instead of stone. The building of the Burial Mounds’ successor.

Do the Burial Mounds have as many crows? Is it a feasting ground, as this has become?

They carry the quiescent dead, cover them with cloth, lay them in rows. Those whose spirits have passed on easily. They lie with their Sect members--when they are able to discern who they are. Still, fields of undyed cloth mounds, waiting to be retrieved by their loved ones, if they still live. Somewhere out there, there must be people still alive, families whole and happy, living in the sunshine. Somewhere.

Who are you?

His fingertips bleed from days playing Linhai and Liebing.

What must be done for you to rest?

Even those here that are living shamble like the dead--the rogue cultivators, his Lan disciples, the handful cultivators from other Sects, all here for the same goal, all hollow eyed and pale. He is supposed to be here for morale. 

They work deep into the night, far from familiar, ingrained rules about schedule and tidiness, here. Adrift.

What must be done--?

The fierce corpse is not a powerful one, merely tenacious. Shuoyue snakes out. It crumples immediately with a muted splurch into the muck, halved.

‘Tell her I loved--’

The top half of the corpse writhes, still scrabbling for him. The sound it makes from its ruined face is horrid. It's a wonder it can sense his yang qi at all; no eyes, no nose. Its robes are a splotchy black and rusty brown-red, but the Lan ribbon around its forehead manages to show a ragged white through it, here and there.

The talisman sears, blinding. It is enough. The body slumps for the last time. He can settle into that mud, summon Linhai from his qiankun bag for the Songs of Rest.

Who are you?

‘Lan Ruicai.

Show them all--’

The blood of the walking dead is no longer life-hot, but the same, unnerving lukewarm as the rain. He cannot feel it. He can’t tell where it’s stained him until he reaches his tent each night. 

He is efficient. He is in control.

The rain here doesn't cleanse anything. It hasn’t stopped for days.

Everything is the same color; the sludge, the thick haze of lingering resentful energy, palms, boots, the hems and knees of robes. That old clotted wound color. Dirt repelling talismans can only do so much before they are overpowered by the sheer weight of yin energy permeating everything. Stained.

There's no use cleaning. He tries anyway.

‘I was so scared, so scared--’

Who are you?

Sometimes, the spirits do not answer. Sometimes, they speak first, before he can even start the questions, raking the strings repeatedly in their anguish. Sometimes, they try to tear the guqin from him, try to rend his clothes, squeeze his throat. Sometimes, banishment is the only way. 

The sudden shrieks and roars at night startle everyone from sleep. If Wangji was well, he would be here. He is known for going where the chaos is.

Is that what had led him to this? To Wei Wuxian? An affinity for soothing chaos? For chaos itself?

Who are you?

‘Don’t know. Want to go home--’

"I can't anymore, zongzhu, I-I--"

"It's alright. Return to the Cloud Recesses. You’ve done enough."

Sometimes, he wakes in the night to find that he is in the middle of dressing, having no memory of doing so, a clump of cleansing talismans clutched in his numb hands. He has cut down so many fierce corpses, he’s lost count.

Who are you?

Food is tasteless glue in his mouth.

Who are you?

Every night, he is sure to take the medicine that gives him no dreams.

‘Oh gods oh gods ohgodsohgods--’

Every night, he prays that he has not left Uncle overwhelmed, that his people are being cleansed and healed back home, that Wangji has stopped bleeding, that A-Yuan is healing, that A-Fu is….

Who are you?

(What right do you have?)

What must be done?

He has been here for days that run into one, long, dark, meaningless drain. 

‘Son. Baby. Where is he?'

Who are you?

‘Pan Liu.’

His raw fingers pause on Linhai’s strings, still humming. Rain patters quietly on the hat that shields his face from it.

He knows that name. How does he know that name.

There have been plenty of others he had recognized among the dead, from different Sects and his own, from childhood, from Cultivation Conferences, from class. But each time, he must pull himself back to that life to remember, away from the rain and the red and the dead.

He can’t place it.

What must be done for you to rest?

‘My baby. Safe.’

The spirit is a thin wisp of light, playing about the strings, shining on the dark wood. Focused. Waiting.  

Who is your son?

‘Lan Fu.’

His mouth is dry.

("A-niang?" A hopeful little voice. The memory of a crumpled form in the blood-churned muck, a shoe print between shoulder blades….) 

It is cruel, endlessly cruel that he is the one alive. That he is the one sitting in the mud across from this poor young mother’s spirit. That he is the one with blood enough in his hands to leave rain blotted stains on the strings as he tells A-Fu’s mother; He is safe.

(Shrieks of raw sound as they carry him away. Echoing off the trees. Reaching back for him.)

A hesitation. Then, ‘Who are you?’

Lan Xichen. Zewu-jun.

‘Zongzhu.’

He will be safe. I swear. 

‘...Safe.’

Rest, now.

‘...Rest….’ The notes are quiet, exhausted. Longing.

Then, silence. That pale light is gone. 

She is gone.

He sits, still and silent as the soft caverns in the clotted mud continue to patter around him. His face is wet--mist and rain and blood. He almost wishes it was tears. 

He aches in a new, terrible way, now.

Oh, little one. You were so loved.

He has been witness to both sides, now, of this small, destroyed family reaching for each other through the dark. And how useless he has been in the task of bringing either of them lasting peace. 

To bring anyone lasting peace. 

(Useless.)

And do you serve anything so fiercely that it would be your last thought, taken across into death? 

It is irrelevant. The soul quieting ceremony had been performed on them as children, with all the other inner disciples. He will not linger as a ghost, even if he were to be struck down by a fierce corpse this instant.

He finds himself trying to remember if his mother had ever mentioned having had such a ritual performed on her….

Selfish. You would have your own mother suffer and linger as an unquiet ghost for some sort of twisted confirmation that you were loved? 

Xichen remembers childhood before the death of his parents. The infinity of all of it. It probably never crossed A-Fu’s mind to beg her to stay with him. (“No, no go! P’ease!”) She had always returned before. 

The memory of A-Fu clinging to his hands so tightly he had drawn blood with his nails is inescapable. 

During that final farewell at the Jingshi, A-Huan too had had no idea it would be the last time he would ever see his mother’s face. He didn’t know what creeping death looked like, then. She was simply her, smiling, twinkling at them.  He had kissed her cheek and taken Wangji’s hand and waved to her through her ornately carved window screen as Uncle led them away. Wangji had always been the one to pull back, to fuss over leaving. Uncle had always made sure that Xichen set a good example for him.

The snowy day she had left this world, cold and dry, so far from the warm wet muck he was in now, something in him hadn’t believed it. Hadn’t believed that someone could just…no longer exist, just as suddenly as a storm might blow over the mountain summit with no warning. 

He saw her so sparingly, it seemed impossible that she wasn't just simply waiting in her front room for them to visit with a smile and open arms.

How? he had asked. When? Why?

Uncle had said that it was not for children to know. This pulled it even farther into the unreal, stretching his comprehension. It felt like a dream, a lie. A story. But if he could just see her…if he could just prove that this was some sort of…misunderstanding--

(Xichen had never asked again after that first refusal sat in his gut like a chilly stone. He suspected that Wangji had not either. Even now, decades later, he still did not know how his mother had actually died. 

He suspected enough, however. 

He knew it was sudden. He knew it was unexpected. He knew no one spoke of it. He knew it had broken his father beyond any hope of repair. Uncle had not volunteered the information, even now, when they were both grown. And Xichen will not allow useless rumination. Rule 60.)

 He remembered he hadn’t been able to stop crying. A-Huan had always hated crying--he always tried to hide away and not bother anyone with it, but this had been constant. 

Uncle had squeezed his shoulder and spoken softly, and reminded him after hours of stopping and starting that he must not grieve in excess, that he would make himself sick, that he was agitating Wangji, that he needed to calm himself, death was a natural passing, like the moon or a river, one must not let their emotions control them.

But still, that something in him that just knew it wasn't true waited until it was dark, until curfew set in and the snow lit the night full-moon-bright, reflecting the stars and lanterns. He had pulled on his boots and slipped from his window, cautiously darting across the paths of the Cloud Recesses in just his pajamas and his blanket wrapped tight around his shoulders, shivering from more than the cold. 

This had to be a trick that he didn’t understand; a joke or a punishment for something he had done wrong. When he figured out what to apologize for, he would be able to see her again. 

The fear of being caught breaking the rules was washed away when he crossed beneath the familiar bower wound with skeletal winter vines. His mother’s house stood dark. All around it, snow was churned and broken, as if many people had been there. In all his memory, no one else had ever visited the Jingshi. The door was unlocked. 

It opened onto emptiness and moonlight. 

Everything was gone.  Her plants. The blue cushioned couch. Her desk and papers. Her dragon incense burner. Her tall candlesticks. Her big, thick, round rug they laid on and played games. The pictures he had painted for her.

He had drifted, stunned, through the shell of his mother’s home. The only proof that she had ever even been there were the scratches on the floor from where furniture had been dragged. That, and the scent of her that still lingered underneath the smell of whatever they had scrubbed the floor and walls with. They had erased her completely. Like she was never there in the first place.

Then it had settled on him like a cloak of lead, dropping him to his knees; the understanding, the true deepness of what this meant.

She was really gone. Forever. 

The ‘always’ was gone. The ‘next time’ and promises. That warm, constant presence on the rim of the Cloud Recesses, the visit that marked his days as cyclically and surely as the sun had simply...vanished. In just one moment, the world was made completely lightless. Incomprehensible. It had a hole ripped in its center, cold and inescapable.

She would never brush back his hair and kiss his forehead. She would never pout when she lost a game. She would never squinch up her nose and do an accidental snort-laugh.

If he had only known that it could happen so fast…if he had only known that people could leave so quickly and completely, he would have taken something. A set of her dark, weighty chopsticks, one of her bracelets, a letter; anything. But there was nothing.

Somehow, he had found himself in front of the Hanshi, his feet numb, his face and hands frozen. Thinking back on it, he couldn’t remember what his 6 year old self had planned. He wasn’t sure that there had been a plan. Maybe he had just wanted a parent. Maybe he had been seeking out the one adult that might have cared as much as he did that his mother was gone. Uncle didn’t understand--A-Huan and A-Zhan had always known that he didn’t like her. He was always polite, because that was important, it was in the rules--but he was always stiff and short. He frowned the whole time--every time--picking them up. He hated talking about her.

But the father he had hardly met, that distant, hidden figure--he had married her. He had loved her.

He would care.

The Hanshi, too, had been dark--and he panicked. Had his father left--or died like his mother and no one had told him? He had yanked the door handle--and to his shock, it slid open. He had been expecting a lock like the one that he saw being done up behind them when he and A-Zhan left the Jingshi. (A choice, not a prison, he had realized as he got older. Not in the same way, at least. Other things kept Qingheng-jun bound.) 

It was dark inside, curtains drawn, vague shapes of things illuminated by the light creeping in behind him. He stood in that doorway, frozen in body and mind, unable to trespass that much farther. It smelled unfamiliar and sharp. He had never been in his father’s home before. 

It was so dark.

He had called into that darkness, choked and quiet; “Fuqin?“ 

Silence. 

“...Diedie?”

(“They made choices. These are consequences,” is all Uncle had told him when, younger, he had asked why both of his parents were locked away from him and refused to say more.

Afterward, A-Huan had always been afraid that he might accidentally make those same choices, that he would be kept from his brother and his Uncle and nannies for it. Because no one would tell him what those choices were, he studied the rules obsessively so he could be sure to follow every single one. So he would never be locked up.)

There was a rustle, a clink. A shape had formed in the shadows, someone sitting up from being slumped on a table. A pale hand swayed into the pool of silver moonlight, pointing. The voice that followed had been rough, slurred like a mouthful of rocks. “You are not supposed to be here. Go.”

A-Huan had fled as fast as his numbed legs could go. Stumbling, breaking through the crust of snow, falling and rising and falling, back up through his window to collapse on the floor. His breath had burned in his lungs as he coughed and sobbed as quietly as he could, hot tears stinging his frozen cheeks.

Not quietly enough, though. A-Zhan had eventually crept into his room and curled up next to him on the floor without a word, arm wrapped around his middle.  When A-Huan had rolled over and held him more tightly than he had ever held anything before, he realized that A-Zhan was the only part of his mother he had left in the entire world.

And now, what did A-Fu have left of his parents, of a life he knew? 

A story, at the very least. A reason. A goodbye. The truth. It was all he could offer. It was all he had left for the boy. These other spirits and their wishes can only be passed along to others, if they were attainable at all. But this, this he can do; this, he can set right. To make absolutely sure that her will is found and executed, that the family who cares for her son is told the story of her last farewell, so he will know, too, in time. 

So a son will never have to wonder.

This much peace, he can provide. With those who can bear this place no more and an endless caravan of cloth draped bodies, he returns to Gusu, leaving behind Qishan’s bleeding sky.

-

The quiet of home stuns him. There are no screams, no groans echoing down the mountain. The trees don’t muffle sounds of sword or talisman sizzle, merely birdsong and wind. There is beauty here, something he hadn't known his soul craved like water in a drought until he saw it in rich blues, blooming whites, lush greens. The coolness, the clarity of the water and the touch of leaves. Nothing here is red-brown. All that bleeds is hidden away behind pale bandages and pale walls.

It's almost too much. 

(His hands feel filthy, no matter how many times he scrubs them. Discontent among such blessings is an insult to those that can no longer come home to them. He will kowtow in the shrine for this disrespect later.)

Time has meaning once more. In theory. There are places to eat, to rest. 

(It hardly makes sense to him anymore, despite the schedule being as familiar as the stone beneath his feet.)

Home, in the Hanshi, surrounded by familiarity and comfort, sitting at his desk as the incense burner next to him delicately permeates the air with sandalwood and the trees outside rustle and no one screams at all, he holds Pan Liu’s will in his hands. It is a brief, frail little thing in the face of such sorrow. It must have been hastily written after her husband’s death, as she willed A-Fu and her remaining possessions to the care of her younger sister. Who upon brief investigation of his ever growing list of the dead was found to have been killed in the battle against Wei Wuxian as well. The sister, yet unmarried, had no will of her own--probably too young to have begun to even consider death as a real possibility before life and Wen and war swept their way in. Their house had been one destroyed in the Wen’s sacking of the Cloud Recesses, their personal possessions few. No one else remained of their immediate family.

Pan Liu clearly had not expected to die before she could update it.

In his heart, somewhere, he had known that something like this was the case; that A-Fu was truly alone. Xichen had carried him for days and no one had come looking? No one had wondered where he was, wanted him home safe, with them? 

He had not wanted to look directly at this, at the time, knowing he would have to give A-Fu back to that loneliness, that uncertainty. Even though A-Fu is not the only child in the Cultivation World or even the Cloud Recesses with the same fate, it had been…different. He couldn’t have said why--still can’t--but it had felt like a betrayal to the boy. A loss, savage and personal. Even when he knew any other choice came nowhere close to making sense.

Still. Even he and Wangji had had their uncle and the small, rotating cadre of minders that were familiar to them. He saw his mother once a month and knew his father was there, somewhere, out of sight. There had been a thread connecting them to their parents and the life they could have had with them. 

A-Fu has none of this. 

And yet he still cries, still calls out, because he trusts that someone he knows will come. Of everything in these last few days, this is what is almost too much to bear, a knife stuck in his ribs that gouges with every breath. He does not feel sadness or regret; only pain. Everything else has been out of reach for a while now.

The rattle of his door opening onto seeping sunshine and fresh, bloodless air has him looking up. His Uncle steps over the threshold. “You’re back,” he says warmly by way of greeting as Xichen rises.

“Shufu.” He bows, then offers him his customary seat, more out of habit than necessity; this teatime visit was a familiar ritual in a life not too long ago.

 They take their places at opposite ends of the low, square table at the center of his sitting room as Xichen opens his tea cupboard. “It’s been a while since we have been able to simply sit and have tea together,” Uncle observes, easily.

Yes; nothing has been right or normal for a long time. “Mn.”

When he continues to set out the cool porcelain cups and the dark pot with no further elaboration, Uncle watches him work, expression a thoughtful blur in his periphery.  “...The library is not where I expected your first stop to be.” 

He sounds only mildly curious, but Xichen knows that it is unspoken approval that he had not gone straight to Wangji.

He hesitates, then continues his methodical ritual of movement. “There was a time-sensitive matter that I wanted to attend to.”

In truth, after the bath he had taken upon his return--where he had had to call for 3 rounds of water (Do not be wasteful, Rule 23; broken) before it was no longer clouded dark with dried blood and mud and rot--Xichen had stood on the Hanshi’s front porch, staring down at the blindingly white path before him, forking off through the trees. 

His heart had tugged him one way and his cowardice in the face of pain another. The thought of seeing more bodies just lying there, of seeing those dear to him--Wangji, A-Yuan, those in the infirmary--suffering while he could do nothing to prevent it was….

It was not something he was capable of, at present. Just for now. Just for these first few hours. It was selfish, but true. And so, he had gone to their records room in the library to request Pan Liu’s will. Pain had won. His heart was weak, choosing the easier duty.

Unable to stop himself, though he knows it will cloud his uncle’s relaxed and pleasant demeanor, he asks; “Is Wangji…?” He trails off. 

Awake? Improving? Well? …Alive? A sharp internal rebuke at this last. Do not exaggerate. Rule 671. Uncle would not be so calm if things were dire. He is angry, not cruel. He would have been told.

(A heavy hand on his shoulder. An empty house. Churned snow.)

He would have been told.

Uncle’s face does, indeed, darken. “Hmph.” A mirthless, scornful snort. “He wakes on occasion. He refuses to speak, refuses to acknowledge anyone. He is simply lengthening his own punishment.” Uncle eyes him, adding, “You should be able to talk some sense into him. He always has listened to you best.” 

‘And so how could you have let this happen? How could you have let him do this?’ 

(When will you stop being angry and start being afraid for him?)

Xichen lowers his gaze to the dark wood of the table and scoops the tiny, furled up leaves of the tea into the pot, the smokey green scent tickling his nose

It’s true. Of everyone--their caregivers, teachers, and relatives, Wangji has always responded to him best. He would not always necessarily disobey outright, but he might frown or hesitate before complying or pretend not to hear--especially if he were called to come away from Xichen’s side. “Your class is this way, xiao-gongzi,” the minder would call and A-Zhan would continue his resolute little stride beside him, hand squeezing tighter around Xichen’s fingers the only indication he had heard anything at all. 

It was when Xichen squeezed back and knelt down to straighten his robes, smiling up into his serious face, saying, “It’s alright, ZhanZhan; I’ll ask if I can come out early to pick you up, mn? Go on, be good,” that he would allow himself to be led away with no further fuss.

 He had been the only one who could finally convince him that kneeling in the rocky ground every month when they should have been visiting their mother would not force anyone to bring her out to them. The first time, he had asked him to come in, come home. But knew his brother. He was not surprised when he silently refused to even show he had heard him. 

And so he hadn’t asked again, never having the stomach to fully destroy the hope that he would be let back into the Jingshi if he just waited long enough. 

But Uncle had become frustrated, their teachers and nannies muttering. They were impatient with his refusal, seeing it as disobedience. They didn’t see his mourning, only his stubbornness. So A-Huan had had to protect his brother's soft heart from those that didn’t understand. “We can kneel together, back at home,” he had whispered, his fingers screwed tight around A-Zhan’s cold hand. “I’ll wait with you as long as you want. But niang would--” his throat had caught and he had wrestled his tears from his voice. “Niang would hate if you got sick, sitting out here in the cold all day.”

A-Zhan’s dark eyes had bored into him, thinking. Reason and punishment and demands from adults had not moved his stubborn frame one inch, month after month after winter-to-spring month. 

Then, finally, this second and last time, A-Zhan had listened to him. Whatever it was about him was what finally got his little brother slowly, stiffly to his feet to hobble back home with him. Xichen remembered that he hadn’t felt relieved at all. He just felt like he had taken their mother from him all over again.

“I will speak with him, shufu.”

 Uncle nods, then heaves a sigh. “What news is there from Qishan?”

Mechanically, as if operating his own mouth from across the room, Xichen relays numbers, movements, and times. He almost reflexively scolds himself for lying; the mundane description of dry duty and the lived horror so far from one another that they were entirely irreconcilable. Just words passed across a shining table over fragrant tea, cool wind brushing the sun-pale windows serenely with tree shadows

When he reaches the final fate of Wei Wuxian’s executed Wen contingent, Uncle approves. “It was wise to swear the disciples to secrecy. This has all gotten so inhumane. Denying them burial was an unnecessary cruelty,” he says heavily as he shakes his head, eyes closed in weariness. “I pray that we are done with this madness at last, with that Wei Ying finally taken care of. What a mess.”

There is silence. Xichen cannot fathom what his response to that could possibly be. Should possibly be--as Wangji’s brother, as the Lan Clan Leader, as his uncle's nephew. As Wei Wuxian’s…what. Friend? 

…As one who cannot delight in his death, in any case. 

Despite the period of kneeling before the Jingshi, Wangji had never been a troublemaker growing up. He was always the Jade who grasped the Lan way of life more easily, molded himself to the rigidity of the rules with that same stubborn tenacity. 

It was Xichen who failed in that, who smudged the black and white lines to gray, bent them so they were slightly more comfortable around him; bearable--once he discovered that they could be. 

He was the one who accidentally got drunk trying to see if he could filter out alcohol with his core, he was the one to kiss Mingjue first in the Jin Gardens during a Cultivation Conference. The one to urge his brother to befriend a talented teenager who was gleefully and repeatedly stomping all over their Clan’s ancestral rules.

He was the one who had told Wangji to step outside his rigid view of the world, to see people for their hearts. And then Wangji's own heart had been torn out. As his uncle said; Wangji had always listened to him best. This much would never have happened without Xichen's deliberate meddling. 

All those years ago, when Wei Wuxian had first cannonballed into their lives, Xichen had just wanted Wangji to be happy. To have friends. Alone didn’t always mean lonely, but he knew he saw it in his brother. Saw Wangji with peers who were merely in awe of his talent, who respected but did not like him, love him, know him, want to spend time with him. He knew the difference, no matter what Wangji showed the rest of the world. The older he got, the less he smiled--the soft, secret ones that so many others failed to see. Xichen had missed them, dearly. And so he had pushed.

Everything that has happened sense feels as if it’s unshakably all his fault.

As the tea is poured, they speak; it passes over him like clouds. Which elder is still in which stage of recovery. The smith they called to repair swords and assess the spirits of those now without a handler. 

Something touches him.

 “Xichen!” 

His hand burns. He is on his feet. Shuoyue’s naked blade buzzes, ready in his hand. He does not remember moving. Every fiber of cloth on his skin feels alive and writhing. Blood courses. Scalding tea is cooling, dripping from his knuckles.

The touch had been spiritual, not physical. From the corner of his awareness and the Cloud Recesses boundary wards at once; a warning, tasting of wild metal (close to blood, so close). 

The Western Wards, crossed.

“Do not unsheathe your blade in a residence!” Uncle’s face crinkles from shock to a wince. “And contain yourself, this is not a battlefield.”

It takes a moment. His killing intent is up, streaming from his core like a river of blades, of blood. 

Sucking in a breath, he takes the torrent in internal hand and yanks it back, firmly, like the reins of a horse, winding the silk rope of it over again and again in the palm of his concentration, until the thrum of it eases. The pressure that had filled the room with the promise of death ebbs. Shuoyue hums warm, expectant. When he does finally sheathe her, the connection between them flickers, confused. 

Above his hammering heart, he hears Uncle continue, frowning, “I felt it, too. Was it someone passing outward or inward?”

His tongue, his mind is mud-stuck slow.

Focus. There is no battle here. You are home. Get a hold of yourself.

“...Outward. Less resistance. Nothing powerful.”

Oddly, at this Uncle’s frown deepens, shadows of concern replacing mere puzzlement. “Hmm. Those were in the West…far….” After a moment of thought, he rises.

As he steps out the door and calls for a servant from the Hanshi’s porch, Xichen continues to try to pull in slow, deep breaths.

Have you regressed to being such a novice that you cannot control your own qi? Your own battle intent? Are you a child? Though his uncle's voice is low and his attention is divided, the words ‘searchers’ makes it through the pounding blood in his ears. Strange.

When Uncle slides the door back open, Xichen asks, “Searchers?”

His silhouetted form hesitates, framed by the sunlight that pours in behind him and dazzles Xichen’s eyes, leaving his expression briefly in shadow. “...Yesterday evening, a child managed to wander into the woods alone.” A spike of cold worry threatens to heighten the wild surge of energy within him once more as his uncle continues, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “We have had several teams scouring the backhill and the whole of our land since then. They are young enough that their spiritual signature isn’t strong enough to register on normal tracking talismans.”

“Why was I not told?!” 

It burst from him, harsher from shock than he had meant and Uncle blinks, pausing in settling himself back onto his seat, brow furrowed.

But he cannot bring himself to care about disrespect, just now. Any child alone and lost is terrifying, awful. There is something, though…something about his tone, his expression that has breath caught in Xichen’s throat as slow, glacial horror creeps up from the depth of his gut. He is avoiding specifics. 

Why.

 “It is being handled already; why would I distract you from your duties? You’ve only just returned and you must--”

“Who. Which child.”

He huffs in irritation, brow furrowing further. And he shuts his mouth, lips compressing.

Xichen no longer needs an answer.

Behind him, he can hear Uncle’s voice raised in startled alarm, but he is already out the door, already leaping from the porch onto Shuoyue. The wind howls in his ears as shoots upward, speeding west to where he had felt the wards ring within him. To where A-Fu has just crossed beyond their safety.

He knows. He doesn’t know how, but he knows.

Xichen can barely breathe around the air battering his face and his own terror. The shrieking sky threatens to rip him from Shuoyue’s blade. Everything at once feels heightened, his awareness expanding to notice how chilly it is despite the sun, how the damp of the wind tearing at his hair and clothes tells of rain in the past day, how dark the woods look beneath the thick canopy blurring by below his feet. He had been alone and cold and terrified, out all night. Had the boy been trying to find his mother? Xichen? The thought made his gut writhe within him.

(They peel his little fingers from Xichen’s sleeve as he clutches and screams…)

Please please please please please

How could this happen? How could he have ever allowed this to happen? There were rivers, cliffs, steep slopes of scree, ponds, caves, animals--gods, animals alone would--

He is well enough to move, to cross the wards.

If it was him. If it were not a strong enough spiritual animal to trigger the alarm. 

There is no boy hanging among them THERE IS NO--

The invisible boundary rears up in his senses, mere seconds full tilt sword ride from the Hanshi but so, so far for a tiny child, wandering in the night. Beneath the canopy, before Shuoyue even manages to drop to a reasonable height and speed, he has already leapt off, landing at a sprint. Internally, the memory of the disruption in the web of the spell warps around his spiritual awareness like a broken arch as he crosses in that exact place. The ground is not suddenly more treacherous, the trees no more menacing, but beyond the relative safety of the Cloud Recesses, his hammering heart sees the whole world is a death trap for this little child.

(He cannot bear to see a tiny body, he can’t, he can’t--)

Skidding to a stop, he wheels in place, eyes scouring everything at knee level and below. “A-Fu!” his throat is pinched, his mouth bone dry. “A-Fu?!”

The ground cover is thick with bushes, shrubs, trees both young and fallen. The sun shines spots into his eyes through the swaying leaf cover above, dappling the floor with shadow and light, dancing, blurring. Silence. Even the birdsong had stopped when this strange being had suddenly crashed into their peaceful little clearing. He sucks in a breath to call again--and then he hears it.

There is a small child crying somewhere nearby. 

Quiet and hoarse but unmistakable.

He isn't slow, gentle, or cautious or anything that a terrified child might need right now; something else has a hold of him, now. He blindly crashes through the brush towards the sound, half skidding down a slope until--until! There! 

A blur of white amongst tree roots halfway down, a curled shape and-- “A-Fu!”--a little face, smudged and red cheeked and tear stained raises and his little eyes light with recognition and he scrabbles, fumbling and crawling out as Xichen tears back up the slope--slips, rights himself--and reaches and the boy throws himself off the lip of the hollow and into his arms, colliding hard with his chest like his heart coming home. 

He staggers, momentum and sudden weakness buckling his knees. A gnarled tree catches his side and he slides them down into the huddle of its roots, curled around him. Against his chest, wrapped in his arms, A-Fu is damp and chilly. He is covered in muck and sticks and burrs but he’s alive--alive--safe and hiccuping and piteously hoarse, tangling his hands through Xichen’s hair as he clutches him back, gasping.

He can breathe. He can finally breathe again.

Some unnameable agony, like some wild beast, is thrashing, welling up, bursting from his chest. It shakes him, tearing at his throat, his heart, his lungs, burning. It’s not relief. It's not fear. It’s…

Heedless of stitches cracking and bursting, he yanks his thicker outer robes open and over the child, tucking him deep into the pocket of warmth. He can feel him shivering, his tiny heart speeding.

He had forgotten that his head is so warm, that his hands are so tiny, just how real his weight is in his arms. When he buries his nose in the baby fluff of his hair, under the dirt and musty forest chill is that wild-sweet child smell he remembers from carrying him for days beneath his chin--and long ago from when Wangji was young. 

He tries to pull back to check him for injuries, for bruising, but he latches onto his neck and sobs. Mere minutes before, Xichen had never wanted to hear another scream again--but now he wishes A-Fu’s cries were as loud as the first day he held him, deafening and demanding, sure and strong in their conviction. These sobs are private, weak, exhausted little things. Not calling for attention. No longer certain of a trusted adult’s return.

“P’ease,” he croaks and that pain, that pressure bears down on Xichen and it feels like drowning; it feels like dying.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry. I’m here,” he whispers back, thick and choked (that thing inside him that aches, that wails, that loves is strangling him), and he draws up his knees, he wraps his robes tighter and rocks and rocks them both as it breaks--all of it, calving and crashing and surging and molten and ugly and broken--and he wants to beg ‘scream, little love, scream your heart out; someone is coming, someone will always come,’ but he doesn't have enough breath as it tears from his locked throat in silent sobs, because with unworthy hands and heart, he holds this blameless little life that has wandered through the halls of his heart leaving muddy fingerprints, and does the cruelest, most selfish thing he can ever recall doing. 

He realizes that he cannot let him go again. 

#'Xichen has emotions and wishes he didn't' is the name of THIS chapter! #3zun raise jingyi au #3zun raise jingyi au content #my fic #my stuff #untamed fanfic #mdzs fanfic #SORRY FOR THE LONG ASS WAIT AND THE INCREDIBLE AMOUNT OF ANGST HE HAD TO WORK THRU SOME STUFF #I'll try to post happier fluffier things next #Maybe some 3zun fluff in Snowed In. Or the next chapter of And A-Fu Makes 4 which has fluff #Or the next chapter of In Your Hands because I PROMISE we're working things out #ANYWAY LOVE YOU G'NIGHT

[untamedmetablogiguess]

finally got around to watching Fatal Journey and honestly the most devastating part of it is not how it gives us adorable baby Nie brothers ( though that does hurt), nor how it makes Huaisang accidentally implicated in the music poisoning (though that hurts, too) - it’s how it deepens Huaisang’s character from merely a harmless pleasure-seeker to a genuinely good person.

the version of Huaisang we see in the show proper isn’t particularly interested in being moral! He’s not a BAD person, he doesn’t want to hurt anybody, but neither does he particularly care to be GOOD. he leaves that, like all the tough parts of life, to his da-ge to take care of. Surely Mingjue is righteous enough for both of them! Huaisang’s no good in a fight- surely he’d just get in the way! Huaisang’s tragedy, originally, is his descent from a lovable goofball, a harmless fop, a perpetual baby brother, into a hardened, ruthless, desperately lonely man hellbent on revenge no matter how many people he has to destroy on the way. And that’s a pretty good tragedy!

but with the material introduced in Fatal Journey, Huaisang appears to be a genuinely good person- a much better person than anyone ever gave him credit for. He sees something he believes is morally reprehensible being done by the people he loves and respects- especially his brother, who is regarded as a paragon of righteousness in their society- and he stands up and says ‘no.’ I don’t think ANYONE else does that, at least where we can see it. WWX’s whole DEAL is doing the right thing in the face of people who have waaay more power than him (Wens, Jins….), but he’s never put in this specific situation because the people he loves and respects aren’t the ones doing morally reprehensible things! The closest parallel we see is maybe LWJ fighting the Lan elders in defense of WWX, but that is much less a principled stance based on moral virtue and much more an act of tremendous personal love and sacrifice. He’s not doing it because it’s there right thing to do, he’s doing it because he loves WWX and doesn’t CARE whether that’s right or wrong anymore.

NHS is put in a fairly unique position where he is directly exposed to some of the basest hypocrisy of the cultivation world, and instead of saying ‘well, da-ge’s doing it so it must be okay, I guess it's not really that bad,” he says ‘No, this is unacceptable.’ He says ‘You’re better than this. WE are better than this. We HAVE to be better than this.’ He is not, ultimately, able to change anything about it, because he doesn’t have that kind of power, but he SAYS it, he makes it clear, directly to NMJ’s face, that he is disappointed in him, and ashamed of what he is doing, and he thinks it’s wrong.

and the fall from THAT, from someone who argues that exploiting the corpses of the dead is wrong EVEN if those people were criminals, into someone who would deliberately desecrate the body of a woman he KNOWS is innocent because it’s the best way he can think of to hurt the person he wants to hurt, a person for whom the ends justify any and all means, and who ignores or disregards the collateral damage of any other lives destroyed - that’s SO MUCH WORSE. That hurts SO much more.

#meta #my meta #nie huaisang #nie bros are fascinating #the untamed #fatal journey

[qourmet]

alright, no more disabled tyrant's pet palm fish from me. i just wanted to draw da, er, san & si bao + bao xue as more grown-up

headcanons under the cut

the idea that heng is the only black fish despite looking the Most like their dad gets me.... i like to think he grows up Laid-back + the fact that qiongxue & heng have the same hair texture won't ever Not get me

kai xin & wei all probably look like identical triplets with their hair down & their robes removed

qiongxue probably steals wei's accessories

heng probably crawled into his little sister's cradle Once when they were babies & knocked the fuck out & now it's not unheard of to find the two youngest siblings napping in the same room

even though heng is the shortest of the quintuplets, he's still taller than Dad. qiongxue is the only one as short as Dad.

all 4 of the youngest siblings call da-ge "grandpa's boy"

#the disabled tyrant's pet palm fish #the disabled tyrant's beloved pet fish #my art #doodles #tdtppf kai #tdtppf xin #tdtppf wei #tdtppf heng #tdtppf qoingxue #i like Wei & Heng the most #qiongxue comes in as a close second #the elder brothers are kinda meh to me

[jaimebluesq]

Dage prompt! Modern AU, NHS brings JC home officially as his boyfriend. Dage likes him, he's clearly dependable and obviously in love with NHS. But he's still gonna make him sweat a little (and then maybe buy him a beer).

Thank you for the prompt! Always love a protective Da-ge. I hope you enjoy!

~ ~ ~

Nie Mingjue had been in the laundry room when his brother came through the front door – without knocking, as usual – and the first he heard from his brother’s new boyfriend was a string of curse words whispered sharply. Nie Mingjue had been a step away from running to the kitchen to get his most impressive meat cleaver... but when he poked his head into the hallway, he paused at what he actually saw. A tall young man (but not as tall as Nie Mingjue) was helping Nie Huaisang out of his jacket, even holding his hand out expectantly to take a hat and scarf, and when the curses restarted, Nie Mingjue discovered that they were about how Nie Huaisang had ‘forgotten’ his gloves again.

Something Nie Mingjue had reminded his brother about his entire life.

When Nie Mingjue came out to greet them, he was properly introduced to Jiang Cheng. The young man made a quick bow – proper, respectful – and though he looked a little nervous, he was not overly fearful.

So far so good – he was already a sight better than Nie Huaisang’s last three significant others.

Over dinner, he found out Jiang Cheng was a veterinarian – good money, loved animals – and had met Nie Huaisang when his pet budgie had fallen sick (it had been a minor infection, and the bird had survived to twitter again). When Nie Mingjue asked his brother about what he’d been doing lately, Nie Huaisang began to talk about a painting he’d been working on, and Jiang Cheng immediately pulled out his phone to bring up a photo of it – supportive of Nie Huaisang’s hobbies, proud of his work. And when Nie Mingjue started teasing his brother about never going to the gym, at first Jiang Cheng had joined in – apparently he’d been trying to get Nie Huaisang to join him for a yoga class – but the moment Nie Huaisang looked genuinely affected by their teasing, Jiang Cheng stopped, took his boyfriend’s hand, and changed the subject.

For once, Nie Huaisang had brought home a date that Nie Mingjue was hard pressed to find fault with.

But that didn’t mean Jiang Cheng was completely off the hook.

After dinner was finished, Nie Huaisang pulled Jiang Cheng up to help clear the table of dishes. As they began filling the sink with water, Nie Huaisang announced he needed to make a stop in the men’s room – and then he looked meaningfully, and warningly, at Nie Mingjue. He shrugged innocently at his baby brother, then waved him off. The moment Nie Huaisang was out of sight, however, Nie Mingjue stood up and walked over to the fridge.

“You don’t mind if I do some prep for tomorrow’s dinner while you work on the dishes, do you?” he asked Jiang Cheng as he took out a rack of ribs he’d pulled out to defrost that morning.

“Of course not,” Jiang Cheng replied, gently sliding dishes into the soapy water. “Let me know if I’m in your way, or if I can help.”

“I will.” He opened a drawer and pulled out his favourite meat cleaver – it sat in his hand like an extension of his arm. He placed the rack just so, then brought the cleaver down with a bang to separate a mass of bone and cartilage.

Jiang Cheng jumped at the noise and looked over; his hand paused mid-way to reaching for a scrubber.

Nie Mingjue was gratified to see a slight shake in the hand.

“Did my Didi mention how our parents died when we were really young?” he asked ‘casually’ as he noisily chopped to separate the meat between two ribs. Jiang Cheng nodded; his throat bobbed. “For all these years, we’ve been each other’s only family.” Another rib separated. “Sure he’s my baby brother, but I practically raised him, too. That means something, don’t you think?”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“And A-Sang hasn’t always had the best taste in partners.” He chopped through another mass of cartilage. “There was this one little asshole he dated in secondary school. Thought he could pressure him into doing something he wasn’t ready for.” He sliced out several more ribs with strength and efficiency. “Sure, I’m lucky the little brat never pressed charges – I think he claimed that a bear attacked him – but even if he had, it would have been worth it. Because nobody – and I mean nobody – hurts my Didi and lives to tell about it.”

He slammed the cleaver down into the butcher block so hard that it stuck into the wood. Nie Mingjue let it go and reached for a nearby cloth to wipe his hands off. He looked up at Jiang Cheng, who had yet to look away from the knife, and tilted his chin, waiting for a response.

“Da-ge, what are you doing?”

Nie Mingjue looked to the kitchen door where his brother had just returned to glare at him.

“A-Cheng, did he try to scare you? He acts tough, but he’s just a big teddy bear.” Nie Huaisang walked over to the sink and affectionately bumped his hip into Jiang Cheng’s, then picked up a towel.

It had been ages since Nie Mingjue had watched his brother help with the dishes without half an hour of cajoling and a bribe or two.

“It’s all right,” Jiang Cheng replied, giving Nie Mingjue a nod. “Nothing worse than anything I’ve said to A-Jie’s boyfriends.”

Nie Huaisang lifted an eyebrow in his boyfriend’s direction. “You threatened to make Jin Zixuan a eunuch and feed his balls to the neighbour’s dog.”

Jiang Cheng scrubbed at a plate with a satisfied grin. “And I’d do it again.”

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes and took the plate from his boyfriend to dry.

Nie Mingjue watched them, a fond smile on his face.

Okay, Didi – this one’s all right.

#nie mingjue #sangcheng #nie huaisang #jiang cheng #protective da-ge

[whumpbby]

I really like the idea of JC with NMJ during the Sun shot campaign, the big belly is really doing it for me. But also, it's during (or soon after) Sunshot, so both WWX and JYL would be alive to see it, later on JL would have siblings and NHS would be an uncle. I wonder how it would change the plot, would anyone survive thanks to baby fever or would it somehow cause more deaths. Would NHS involve JC in his plotting now that he's family or can having family distract him from his grief enough to not plot. What if NMJ didn't die (unlikely but still). Also I can't use question marks for some reason.

Anyway back to the actual babies, of course they're big. Biggest babies you'll ever see with lungs that can scream your ears off. They will be given the most appropriate and lovely names possible of course. JYL will get to pick one.

I have so many ideas now about thisTT more or less sad/happy

How about just after Sunshot, when WWX is being dumb and staying with the Wens and JC is desperate to save him. Desperate enough to go to the one man that stood in his way - and the one that he had a chance of convincing, the one he had something to offer to...

He goes to NMJ and offers him an heir.

There's not a lot of gentry omegas left after the war. There was never many of them, but the Wen liked to target them to demoralise their families and so there's just a few left and they're all staunchly protected by their packs.

Jiang Cheng knows that the Nie are traditionalists, that their heirs are meant to be born from an alpha and an omega. He knows that the Nie don't have any omegas of an age and position appropriate for Nie Mingjue. He knows that for all his sect being a shadow of what it was, he's a perfect option for the alpha - he's an omega from a good bloodline, he has proven himself in the war, he's young and has a chance of carrying well, their characters are compatible. His pack is small, but dedicated to him and through his sister he has ties to the Jin sect.

Nie Mingjue will have problems finding a better carrier for his heir.

"Most importantly, do you even have the time to wait for another match, Nie-zonghzu?"

Nie Mingjue scoffs and wants to call Jiang Wanyin shameless, but the truth is... no, he doesn't. He knows he doesn't have as much time as he'd like to have - not only to sire a child, but to raise it, to see it grow, to prepare it for the role it will take in the future. He didn't think about it during his youth, because he was focused on raising Huaisang, and during the war there was simply no time.... but now, when they're all focused on rebuilding and repopulating their ranks, the idea of a child came back. His advisors mentioned a heir a time or two already and Nie Mingjue knows it will keep happening more and more as times goes by. He is expected to sire a child, and soon.

And yeah, maybe Jiang Wanyin is desperate enough to shamelessly sell his body for a group of Wen dogs and the shixiong that abandoned him, but Nie Mingjue is just as desperate to not leave his brother in the position he never wanted to be.

Can he weight his hatered for the Wen against his responsibility to his pack?

"I can't advise you on that, da-ge." Huisang's face didn't show a sign of sour, but his fingers were tellingly twisting the tassel of his fan. "Jiang Cheng is a good man, he sticks to his word. If you think he will be a good option, I will have nothing against it."

"It's shameless," Nie Mingjue said sourly. "For an omega to use their body in a trade."

"Certainly. A pitiful thing, to resort to such means," Huaisang looked at the wall as he spoke. "Alphas certainly don't need to lower themselves in such ways."

His little brother, so scathing in being of offhand.

"I'm certain your sworn brothers will have more insights into the situation than me, da-ge. I don't really know about politics," Huaisang noted with a sweet smile "You're lucky indeed to have their support."

Ah yes, quite cutting, his didi.

They didn't exclude Jiang Wanyin from their brotherjood on purpose - they just... didn't think of him at the time. The Jiang sect was non-existent and Jiang Wanyin was chasing shadows on the battlefield, searching for his shixiong, staying on the outside, tending to his hatchlig sect and costing up to Jin Guangshan...

"After all, I'm an omega myself, brother, I cannot be expected to keep up with all that, right?"

Not like Jiang Wanyin, who was raising his sect from the ground on his own shoulders, with little help from anyone. Was it a wonder he wanted his shixiong back, then? Even at the cost of his own body, was it a wonder he was desperate for the support from the last of his family left?

Mingjue burned to consult with Lan Xichen, who was always so balanced and objective when it came to inter-personal politics. But he didn't. Lan Xichen, raised in righteous and prohibitive sect, wouldn't understand. Romantic as he was, Zewu-jun wouldn't approve of the idea - whereas the Nie sect was fine with having their pups born out of wedlock, the Lan were conservative enough to demand marriage and mating before the offspring could even be discussed.

They could not marry, they could not mate - not two sect leaders. What Jiang Wanyin was offering him was a business transaction, borrowing his body for nine months in exchange for shutting up about a handful of Wen dregs.

He could carry on his vendetta against remnants and follow Jin Guangshan's lead, a case he had nothing to win in. Or he could have a strong heir born out of a strong omega of good blood. Jin Guangyao was his sworn brother, but Jin Guangshan was nothing more than a slimy, greedy, distasteful little man that needed someone to cut him at the knees from time to time. Jiang Wanyin was young and inexperienced, but Yunmeng had a strong trading history, with all the rivers going through it, and getting his hands into it ahead of time was just good politics. Once the Jiang sect recovered, good trade deals would put the Nie ahead of others in terms of recovery from the war.

Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao were his sworn brothers, but his father taught him to never put all his eggs into one basket.

And Jiang Wanyin was in no way hard on the eyes either.

(Mingjue could only imagine the spark in his father's eyes as he smacked his shoulder in glee and approval. The same spark he saw the few times when his father looked at Jiang Furen during sect conferences she deemed to be present at, to argue for her sect when Jiang Fengmian was happy to settle for less.)

("A good omega." Mingjue remembers his father saying. And somehow it didn't sound the way everyone else used these words to diminish the gender, didn't sound pitying or off-hand. These were words of admiration, a rare thing from his father.)

In the end, he'd be a fool to decline the offer.

-------

It can go two ways ;) Either the happy ending when the pregnancy changes things: WWX sees how much JC is willing to sacrifice to help his case and comes to reason, NMJ gets himself roped into saving the Wen and that leads to Wen Qing helping with his health, so he doesn't die and so he can raise his child and slowly fall for the omega that birthed it.

Or it can go as canon goes: the seed takes, but WWX still looses his mind and kills JZX, and the siege happens, with a pregnant JC leading the charge and then birthing the pup in bitter resentment of its life making no difference... all he had sacrificed, and it still wasn't enough. The Nie get the pup, but NMJ still gets murked, and Huaisang makes a production out of not knowing how to take care for a pup, so he hands them over to JC to raise and so JC is a lonely omega of Lotus Pier, raising two heirs of sects that won't be his...

#headcanon #jiang cheng #nie mingjue #mingcheng #abo headcanon