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vassar177 · 4 years

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Mingcheng - Rest

Nie Mingjue wakes to the soft sound of water gently lapping at docks, a scent of lotus permeating the air.

He doesn’t know what time it is, but it must be late because moonlight still streams through the windows. And Wanyin is still sprawled across his chest, a leg thrown over his hip and an arm clutching his shoulder.

He can’t help but chuckle as he shifts his head against the pillows to look up, greeted by flowing patterns of lotuses. From what he can tell, he doesn’t need to be up for hours, but at this moment, sleep seems evasive.

Rather than being alone with his thoughts, Nie Mingjue amuses himself by looking around Wanyin’s quarters. He can’t move too much, impeded by a very welcome weight, but still, his eyes wander freely.

One would expect it to be the most lavish spot in Lotus Pier, the master’s room, decorated with the finest of fabrics and ornaments. But Nie Mingjue knows Wanyin. And he knows he would not surround himself with luxury unless he knew his sect was flourishing, and even then, he would see much of it as excess.

Nie Mingjue’s eyes land on a set of robes placed thoughtfully to the side, and a memory of hearing Wayin complain about the “superficiality of ornate clothes” rises to the forefront of his thoughts.

Wanyin had scorned the fact that his ascension robes cost almost a year's worth of crops, “and for what,” Wanyin had said, “my people can’t eat my robes.”

Nie Mingjue had laughed at that, but it’s not like he could deny it. Nor did he particularly disagree with it either.

As he continues to drag his gaze across the room, his eyes find flowing lotuses once more.

Yunmeng has a long tradition of woodworking that is second to none.

Nie Mingjue’s own sect boasts quite the proficiency in masonry, and while he may not be as artistically inclined as his brother, even he knows they hold nothing against the intricacy that comes with Yunmeng woodworking.

Qinghe masonry is meant to be seen from afar, a statement in stone.

In Yunmeng, delicate lines and gorgeous patterns can be found in even the most mundane of places. Nie Mingjue admires the fact that in every corner of Lotus Pier, a story can be found; it is a testament to the thought and care that was put into her reconstruction.

Yunmeng woodworking is an art not meant for display or ostentation, but for the celebration of a culture and tradition passed down. Nie Mingjue is glad that Wanyin has found people to continue that tradition.

As he scans tales interwoven on walls, walls he knows Wayin had a part in creating, he is once again baffled that the cultivation sees this man as nothing but angry, at the best of times.

Wanyin is so much more than the angry facade he shows the world, one that has so many fooled.

And yet, Nie Mingjue cannot be truly surprised. He has often been the subject of rumor as well, described as having no interests “aside from killing,” his own reputation ringing with fear.

What a pair, the two of them.

At the rate reconstruction is going, Nie Mingjue doesn’t think it will take very long before the Jiang Sect reclaims- no, surpasses its former glory.

He for one, cannot wait to see the faces of those that doubted his beloved’s potential.

And on the topic of faces, his eyes are once again drawn to Wanyin’s profile, his Wanyin he thinks with an intense rush of affection. After several years of pining and dancing around one another, finally, he can say. Finally.

He is softened in the moonlight. Speckled with freckles brightened in the sunlight. Nie Mingjue could spend an eternity simply tracing the lines of his lover’s face if given the opportunity.

So he does.

Smooths out slightly pinched eyebrows; traces a sharp jawline; brushes a sunburned nose; runs the pad of his thumb across stress bitten lips. Wanyin continues to breathe softly, drooling slightly on his chest.

Nie Mingjue could not be happier.

He is aware that Wanyin is frequently plagued with nightmares. That he is often visited by demons of the past that try to pull him down with them. Sandu sits by his bedside for a reason.

Nie Mingjue also is deeply aware that the toughest battles aren’t fought on a field, surrounded by tangible enemies, but within one’s self. Battles that can be neither seen nor conquered with brute strength.

Nie Mingjue cannot participate in this war, cannot fight for his love even though he vehemently wishes he could. Especially not when he’s engaged in his own. This war is Wanyin’s own. But he promises to meet Wanyin on the other side of these battles whenever they arise, whenever he can. Being morning or night. For better or for worse.

So when he can, he cherishes the moments that he can provide Wanyin these small semblances of peace. Cherishes the moments where they both can stop acting a leader and just exist with one another.

Nie Mingjue knows they are both Sect Leaders; their obligations are to their people first and foremost.

He also knows that time for them may be running out, the curse bestowed upon his family never straying too far from his mind as his qi fluctuates more frequently, more dangerously.

But in this moment, weighed down by the man he has decided to protect with his life, to give all of his life to, he appreciates the quiet peace that surrounds them.

Nie Mingjue closes his eyes to the soft sounds of water lapping at docks, and the lingering scent of lotus.

Dawn is approaching.

Maybe he can get a few more hours.

#mingcheng #nie mingjue #jiang cheng #mdzs #tried to write

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frayed-at-the-seams · 4 years

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And then it was him.

(Lan Jingyi x Lan Sizhui)

Jingyi gazed out of the window languidly. In the front of the classroom, the teacher’s voice faded to a monotonous drone as Jingyi watched the leaves sway in the warm spring breeze. He absentmindedly chewed on the end of his pen slightly. The soft early morning sunlight making him doze. He had spent too much time playing mario cart with his friend, Ouyang Zizhen, the night before and the lack of sleep was making itself known.

“Lan Jingyi!”

Jingyi jerked his head up with an undignified yelp. The teacher was levelling him with a fearsome glare. Jingyi hastily wiped the stray drool from his mouth and brushed his curtain of a fringe behind his ear. “Yes Sir?”

“Pay attention. I know that you are still new to this school but I expect better”. Humiliation curled up in his stomach as the rest of the class giggled and Jingyi felt himself blush in shame. He had only been in cloud recess a week but he missed his old school. There had been less rules. ‘And’, he thought as the teacher continued the lesson, ‘the teachers had been nicer too’.

Originally, Jingyi had been born and raised within the rich district of town known as cloud recess. But his dad’s company had fallen in to bankruptcy and Jingyi and his parents had moved to the far away Mo village. Jingyi had been six at the time. However, he had adjusted quickly to the poor but friendly village, making friends with Zizhen and joining the local school.

But whilst he had flourished within the small community, his parent’s relationship had grew progressively worse. It started with drinking, then snide comments which progressed into shouting fights and slamming doors. By the time he was sixteen, there were bruises on both his parent’s faces. The fights having turned physical. Jingyi learnt not to step between them after he had gotten his third black eye. It didn’t mean that he didn’t still try though.

It was Zizhen that raised the subject of scholarships. Jingyi, who was beginning to feel suffocated, jumped at the idea and applied to as many sports scholarships he could. It was only luck that he was able to win a Classical Chinese dance scholarship to the prestigious Cloud recess academy. It was given that something would go wrong and ruin his luck. Just one week in and he was already mucking it up. Curse those who decided that he had to take maths and Chinese classes as well as his dance classes. Whoever they are, they were evil.

The slamming of the classroom door made Jingyi jump, disturbing his train of thoughts. Startled, he turned his head to the doorway to watch as two figures bowed to the teacher.

“Mr Lan, Mr Jin, what time do you call this?” The teacher asked. ‘Ah’, Jingyi thought. He eyed the two boys up and down. ‘The princes’.

“I apologise sir”, Sizhui smiled charmingly, as polite as always. “We got held up in traffic. Jin Ling snorted at the excuse but did not speak. The teacher assessed them warily then sighed.

“Just go and find a seat”. Both Sizhui and Jin Ling nodded before turning their faces towards the class. Sizhui’s purple brown orbs flittered across the room before alighting on the empty space next to Jingyi.

Trying to look busy, Jingyi pretend to be reading through his notes as the chair moved beside him. It was only when Sizhui had sat down did Jingyi notice that he had not actually taken any notes and that his notebook was not even open. Glancing up at his new desk partner, he watched as a neat white pencil case and a clear pale blue notebook were placed on the table. The colour of the notebook matched the famous Lan ribbon tied around Sizhui’s wrist.

Before he even came to cloud recess, Jingyi had heard of the Lan family. His father from from a very distant branch, so removed from the main family that the only thing they shared was the name. They were nothing like the twin jades.

Everyone knew of the twin jades, head of the Lan mafia which controlled fifty percent of China. The other half was split between the Jin clan, the Nie clan and the Jiang clan. All the clans got along famously. Especially due the the fact that the head of the Lan clan, Lan Xichen, was married to Jin Guangyao and sworn brother’s with the fearsome Nie Mingjie. But a more famous story, one that everyone knew, was the love between the Yiling Patriarch and the Second jade. It was Wei Wuxian, adopted brother of clan leader Jiang Wayin, and Lan Wangji who were the most feared.

It was their adopted son who was sitting next to Jingyi now.

As if he could hear his thoughts, Sizhui turned and gave Jingyi a stunningly warm smile. Feeling the blood rushing to his face, Jingyi hurriedly broke contact and turned his head towards the front. It stayed like that for a few minutes before he heard the click of a pen and the sound of Sizhui taking notes, that Jingyi could relax his stiff posture slightly.

Despite being the child of the mafia, Sizhui was an elegant student. Ever since they had first met as kids in preschool, Jingyi had admired him. Sizhui never let his reputation affect him. The guy was as charming and gentlemanly as a fairytale prince. He was the president of the student council and had the top grades of the year. People ignored that he was the heir to the largest mafia in China, and instead treated him like an idol. Jingyi had even heard a rumour that Sizhui had beaten up a gang of bullies single handed, only to then scold them on bullying and assist them to the infirmary.

But despite having been fierce childhood friends, honestly, the guy was a conundrum. They had lost contact when Jingyi’s family had moved away, which his younger self had cried about. He gazed at his new desk partner. Sizhui’s black hair was cut short and neatly against his head. His skin was smooth and unblemished, almost matching the pristine white of his shirt. His uniform was ironed and fresh. Compared to jingyi’s rumpled and still sleepy state, Sizhui might as well have just walked out of a fashion magazine.

“Is everything okay?” Sizhui’s calm voice asked. Jingyi blinked to find Sizhui watching him.

“Oh um yes!” His voice cracked. “Yes! I’m fine. You just have blood on your...” Jingyi broke off, his hand moving to catch Sizhui’s sleeve. He caught the end of the blue Lan ribbon between his fingers and began to absentmindedly rub at the small stain.

There was a beat of tense silence as Jingyi realised what he was doing. Colour drained out of his face. Mercifully, the bell rang. Dropping the ribbon, Jingyi hastily gathered up his stuff and fled the classroom, leaving Sizhui alone at the desk.

“What the hell was that all about?” Jin Ling barked, having watched the scene from his desk a short distance away. He was obviously spending too much time with Jiang Cheng and his potty mouth was increasing because of it.

Sizhui let out a hum, fingers toying with end of the ribbon on his wrist. “Nothing”, he decided finally, despite Jin Ling’s assessing gaze. “Let’s go”.

——

“Good! Again!” The instructor called with a clap of his hands.

Jingyi paused to wipe the sweat off his forehead before taking his position at the beginning of the mats. The mats covered a long line across the floor of the gym, almost like a runway. A runway and Jingyi was a pretty awesome plane.

Grinning, Jingyi started his run up. One flip, head over heels into a forward somersault. He flipped into a series of five forwards somersaults before using the last of his momentum to launch himself up into the air, body twisting sideways before landing on his knees. The mats cushioned his landing, so when he got up it was only with a slight ache.

“Excellent Jingyi!” The instructor, Mr Lee, called with delight. He was a large heavy set man with a encouraging grin. Jingyi liked him the best out of all his teachers. He clapped him hard on the back, almost sending Jingyi stumbling.

“Thanks Mr Lee”. Jingyi grinned and ran a hand through his sweaty hair. His fringe, which was long enough to graze his jaw, was pushed back by a white sweatband. The rest of it was cut short for convenience, but Jingyi still wished that he could grow it out.

Catching his breath, he walked over to the side of the room to grab his water bottle. He took a swig as footsteps sounded behind him. As Jingyi turned around, he choked in surprise. Hurriedly, he wiped at the water dripping down his chin.

“What are you doing here?” He gasped.

Sizhui smiled at him. He was still immaculate in his pristine white and blue uniform. Jingyi felt inappropriately embarrassed. He was sweaty and gross and probably smelt. Sizhui smelt of sandalwood and orange blossom. Even his damn scent was perfect.

“I came to speak to you”, Sizhui’s smile was like dawn light, innocent and pure. Jingyi fought the urge to snort. “Is this a bad time?” Sizhui looked like a kicked puppy.

“Um”, Jingyi glanced around at the rest of the class. “I’m in the middle of practising at the moment. But we should be done by four”. Why did he mention the time?

“Oh”, Sizhui perked up. He beamed at Jingyi. “I’ll wait then”.

“Oh um sure. You do that”, Jingyi averted his gaze and tried to quell his flaming cheeks. He set his water bottle back on the ground. Sizhui lowered himself into sitting cross legged beside it, smiling pleasantly. Jingyi tried not to make it look like he was running away.

“Why is Lan Sizhui waiting for you?” Zizhen hissed as Jingyi preformed a windmill turn. He transitioned out of the movement into a vertical split, holding his position.

“I don’t know”, He muttered back, focussing on maintaining his balance.

Zizhen did not answer for a moment. Throwing himself forward into a travelling straddle jump. Once he had landed, he circled back to Jingyi’s position. “Dude, he’s Lan Sizhui! You must know something”.

Jingyi let his foot touch the ground. Rolling his shoulders, he spared Zizhen a sheepish look. “It may have something to do with the fact that I touched his ribbon earlier”.

Zizhen gasped. “Jingyi! You know how important those ribbons are”. Jingyi winced with the scandalised tone. He did know. Every member of the Lan family had one. They represented restraint, only to be touched by your family or significant other. It was a family tradition that had been held for years. Even Jingyi had been given one at birth like all Lans, but his parents didn’t care much for the traditions. He had lost his as a child and never received a new one. When they had moved away and the Lan family had cut ties with his parents, it didn’t matter anymore.

Jingyi felt a small amount of dread settle in his gut. Those ribbons were held within the highest esteem by the main family. So much so that there were rumours that the last person to try and forcibly touch Lan Wangji’s ribbon had died a gruesome death. Jingyi shivered.

“It can’t be that bad right?” He asked. Zizhen, who was preforming his cooling down stretches, shrugged and patted him on the shoulder. Jingyi put his head in his hands and sighed.

——

Once the class was over, Jingyi reluctantly made his way back over to where Sizhui was sitting. The boy smiled at him and handed him his water bottle, which Jingyi drank from greedily.

“I can talk now if you want”, Jingyi said as nonchalantly as he could. Sizhui stood up, causing Jingyi to mentally curse the few centimetres that the older boy held over him.

“That’s good. Shall we get drinks? I know a coffee shop nearby”, Sizhui asked. Jingyi eyed him warily but nodded.

Together they walked out of the practise room. They made their way through the building, only pausing long enough for Jingyi to pull on a jumper and a pair of shoes in the changing room. Sizhui insisted on taking his bag.

“You shouldn’t have to-“, Jingyi started, hands itching to pull his backpack from the other boy’s shoulder.

Sizhui smiled in that disarming way and shifted the strap up higher. “I insist. Your muscles must be aching from all that practise. Let me do it”. Jingyi grumbled a bit more but eventually gave up with a huff, pouting as they walked to the coffee shop.

The coffee shop was only a few blocks away luckily. The silence as they walked was so awkward that Jingyi felt like crying. When they got there the scent of coffee and the pleasant sound of chatter and clinking cups washed through Jingyi like a wave of calm. The cafe was warm and cozy. The walls were accented with wood and photos. A sign above the door named the place ‘ghostly scent’ and Jingyi found himself feeling a bit better.

“Uncle Ning”, Sizhui greeted as they neared the counter. A frazzled and nervous looking man looked up from the coffee machine and beamed at them. He had long black hair tied away from his face in a low ponytail by a red hair tie which matched his red apron.

“Sizhui”, he greeted in a quiet, stuttering Voice. “What can I get you?”

“I’ll have a black coffee and he’ll have a honeycomb hot chocolate”, Sizhui answered. Jingyi blinked. How they hell did he know his favourite drink? His mind faltered for a moment as Wen Ning turned to make their drinks.

“Wait, I can pay”, Jingyi said, scrambling for his wallet.

Sizhui shook his head dismissively as Wen Ning waved a hand. “No need. Sizhui and his friends always get free drinks here. Just go and sit down. Xue Yang will bring you your drinks in a moments”.

Sizhui thanked him and took Jingyi gently by the wrist. He lead him over to a table in the corner, removed from the main hubbub of the cafe. Jingyi felt like he was going to spontaneously combust right there and then. He didn’t. Instead, he obediently sat down opposite Sizhui, ignoring how he still had his wrist within his grip.

“Um, is this about your ribbon?” Jingyi stuttered. “If so then I’m really sorry. I was half asleep and I didn’t realise what I was doing-“. Sizhui shook his head, cutting him off. Jingyi fell silent as a scowling teenager with badly cut black hair set their drinks on the table.

Sizhui took a long gulp of his tar like drink and Jingyi nervously followed his example. The flavour of honey and chocolate eased his aching body and he found himself relaxing in his seat with a moan. Sizhui watched him.

“To not about the ribbon”, Sizhui smiled. Jingyi blinked slowly at him, not computing.

“Then why am I here?”

“Because I wanted to talk to you”. Sizhui’s grip on his wrist had travelled down to his hand without Jingyi noticing. He linked their fingers together with a smile that had Jingyi blushing as red as Wen Ning’s apron.

Sizhui squeezes his hand and continued. “I want to ask you on a date”, he stated. Jingyi must have died, how could this be happening?

“What?”

Sizhui used his free hand to pull something from his pocket. He unfolded a piece of white material to reveal a embroidered Lan ribbon. With shock, Jingyi watched as Sizhui let go of his hand to tie the ribbon around his wrist.

“Remember when we were kids and you were moving away?” Sizhui asked. Jingyi nodded numbly, brain trying to absorb what was happening. “You had come running to me crying about leaving. I told you that we would see each other again and you gave me your ribbon and made me promise”.

As Sizhui talked, the memory surfaced in Jingyi’s mind. He had been distraught that he would have to leave Sizhui behind and had runaway to his house. He had cried and dropped his ribbon onto Sizhui’s palm before running home.

“I thought I lost it”, Jingyi breathed. Sizhui smiled warmly at him and unravelled the ribbon around his wrist, stretching it out to show the embroiled characters of Jingyi’s name sewn amongst the cloud design.

“Jingyi”, Sizhui asked once he had retied the ribbon. He took his hand again, palm warm against his skin. “We found each other again. Will you go on a date with me?”

Jingyi found himself laughing slightly hysterically. All doubts and fears left his mind as he giggled. He grinned, squeezing Sizhui’s hand. “Yeah. Let’s go on a date”.

#wangxian #jin ling #lan jingyi #lan sizhui #lan juniors #ouyang zizhen #fanfic

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hey-i-really-miss-you · 4 years

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so idek where to start but just like a general "this is what this is about" would be helpful i guess 👉👈🥺 also thank u so much for offering help i just want to enjoy this but, well, that's easier when u understand some things heh 😅 also, is this a historical drama? fantasy? mythology? or just like. retelling of a popular folklore story? something entirely else?? (3/3)

ok so im gonna go point by point

1. the whole cliff scene makes so much more sense after watching more i promise. i can't really say much because of spoilers but once tou get that context.... *chef's kiss*.

2. yes so im not exactly sure how much detail goes into this outside of the episode where he comes back so i'll just go over what was said in that episode.

2a. a man named mo xuanyu used a type of spell that would call to bring someone back from the dead to live in the spellcaster's body and exact revenge for them, killing the sleppcaster in the process. he used it to bring back wei wuxian to get revenge on four people. it does come up later so that is all i will say.

3. aqua demon took me three watches to understand its importance 🤦🏽‍♀️ im willing to say it but it might be a spoiler...

4. guy in white (lan zhan/lan wangji) is mean to him but hes the same guy who was holding wei wuxian's arm when he was dangling over that cliff..... growth.

5. the dude who stabbed mcfallen (jiang cheng/jiang wayin) and that girl with the high voice thay calles wwx "a'xian" (jiang yanli/ "shijie") are all siblings.

6. yup this is all how everything was before and why it all went to shit. emphasis on why ir all wenr to shit. i've never watched a show paced like this and im pretty sure it gave me a headache 😂

7. oh if troupes had an award show slow burn would go to this damn show without question oh my fucking gd let me STOP

8. I'm not sure if you meant the show itself or the questions you asked specifically so i don't know how to answer or if i already have! !!

8b.?

the timline is a bit fucky and confuses a LOT of people and even if you didn't need help on it im going to explain it because i cant help myself.

so the first six minutes of episode one (give or take a few seconds) takes place in the past (16 years ago) when mcfallen (wei wuxian/wei ying/the yilling patriarch) dies. fade to black and then it is present day until mcfallen passes out at the end of episode two so every moment up until the point he wakes up later in the series is set 16 years ago. there will be some time skips. one thing you learn pretty quickly is that the 16 years is the only amount of time that actually matters.

short answer, historical fantasy.

there is a much longer answer that i have typed and retyped before realizing i do not have the knowledge of Chinese culture(s) that i need to accurately categorize this show's genre. i will say, i'd put money xianxia (literally meaning "Imortal heroes". fictional stories with demons, ghosts, magic, ect. + the protagonists usually are cultivating for immortality, which they are in this show, but they lost me on the Chinese folklore and heavy inspiration from daoism)

#also sorry this si so fucking late #i really really hope none of this comes off as.. idk.... dumbed down?#you're probably very smart! i just.... idk im trying to explain but i don't know what details are necessary and what aren't....#i really did my best im really sorry... if you want to dm me i can send you metas from people way more articulate than me!#i hope this helps!!#lost post #ask and you shall receive

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