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astralis01 · 3 years

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Rivalry (Isn’t it Bitter Sweet): Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Your feud with Bakugou Katsuki only escalated throughout your years at Hogwarts; whether it was on the quidditch field or who would be the first to sit down in class, there always seemed to be some sort of raging competition between you two.

Read it here on AO3

You could feel his presence from across the dining hall, immediately dowsing you in a raging hatred that you only reserved for him. His arrogance mocked you as he basically danced into the Great Hall bathed in compliments.

The Slytherin quidditch team won against Ravenclaw the night before. You didn’t know why he had all of the glory… he wasn’t even the captain. Being a keeper had its perks, you guessed. You rolled your eyes and focused your attention on your food. You tried not to stab the plate as you heard the varying praises to the boy in green and silver.

And what annoyed you the most was the herd that he always seemed to have around the place he sat. Varying from girls to boys, from Slytherin itself to the other houses too.

Stab, you picked up a piece of broccoli from your plate as you heard, "Wow, Tsuki, the last save was so cool."

Pierce, “That last block was brilliant!”

And that was the last straw for you. Who had even given the very, obviously bright idea of making the Gryffindors and Slytherins almost sit together?

Katsuki Bakugou was simply not someone who deserved such compliments. He was vile, annoying, and did everything in his limited power to poke and prod at every single one of your nerves. You used to ignore the burning hatred that you harboured for him; but late in your second year, you had let it all out.

And, as it turned out, he wasn’t quite fond of you either.

It had been years since then, yet the feeling remained the same. It was just the start of your sixth year and you already wanted to gouge his eyes out with the pointy end of your fork.

Hanta Sero caught your eye from across the tables and gave you a cheeky smile in return and the rage which had simmered down a bit rose again with a vengeance. He was the captain of the other team and you wished you could hate him as much as him. But he was quite fun to be around when he wasn't hanging out with that loser.

Though before you could get up from your place in the hall, Shouto Todoroki stopped you, holding your hands and preventing you from getting off your seat.

You turned to look at him, with the most terrible glare you could offer but he just gave you the most unimpressed look and pulled you down to sit beside him again, still holding your hand and preventing you from charging at the Slytherin table.

Then a young Slytherin, probably a first-year piped out, "Next week at the Gryffindor versus Slytherin match, you guys are sure to win."

Shouto's grip faltered and you grinned. One thing that annoyed Shouto the most, perhaps, after his father was the fact when someone insulted the Gryffindor Quidditch team that he was a proud member of.

And that was the moment you needed to charge towards the Slytherin table before any of your other friends tried to put an intervention to your actions.

"I wouldn't be too sure, you know, we have a pretty good team this year," you said, casually leaning on the table.

"And why would that stop us from winning, Captain? We have a pretty good team this year, perhaps the best," Sero drawled out, almost stretching onto the table like a tabby cat and you just wanted to slap the smirk off his face.

And before you could put that thought into action, Izuku Midoriya, came and dragged you away back to the table, so you yelled back, "Next week, we'll surely be the winners.”

"We'll see," Bakugou said.

Perhaps five years ago, you wanted to be friends with Katsuki, but now Katsuki and you were bitter enemies.

It started in the first year when you met with Katsuki and Izuku on the train.

As soon as Katsuki entered the train cart you sat in, he dozed off and Izuku came rushing in, apologizing for 'Kachaan's' manners. You laughed it off and invited him to sit with you and you two spent the train ride talking to each other, making friends when suddenly the announcement to be ready to get off at the station sounded off.

"Kachaan, wake up. We're here. We're here at Hogwarts."

"Shut up Deku."

You frowned at the interaction but you forwarded a hand towards him and said, "Hello, I am-"

"No need to tell me you shitty extra," and he walked out on the both of you.

Izuku tried to apologize for his actions but you shushed him and dragged him out with you to climb aboard the boats.

And perhaps, that was the start of your bitter rivalry.

The ending of the second year was when you finally cracked the nut in the middle of Charms class and told him off in the middle of class, in front of everyone. This is why you were put in Gryffindor, a small part of your mind thought.

(another part of your mind had thought that you shouldn't have done that and perhaps you might be at the very least allies today.)

"For Merlin's sake, can you stop shouting for a moment? This," gesturing towards his mouth, "is getting super annoying. Don't you ever get tired of shouting so much, all the time?"

And an awkward silence blanketed the class as everyone quieted down to watch the fight between you two.

Bakugou slowly turned red and then shouted, "This is getting annoying? Well, your presence is getting annoying but do you see me screaming at you to fuck off all the time, you prissy prick?"

You turned at him with the vilest look and said, "If you are going to be an idiot, you should actually try to be subtle about it."

Katsuki froze and said, "Funny you should say it."

“You’re so ridiculous.” You rolled your eyes. “Oh, I’m Katsuki Bakugou and I am a perfect student that can’t even properly pronounce a simple spell! But that doesn’t matter because guess who’s a keeper for the quidditch team when I’m only a second-year!! I am perfect!! Literally, no one likes you.”

“Trust me, no one likes you either.”

No one meaning, and translating to, I don’t.

Just to show off, you easily cast the charm that he had failed. Charms were your strong subject, so you only needed to say the spell and flick your wand before turning your attention back to him.

He was nearly smoking from his ears, he was both embarrassed and livid.

And you felt a satisfied smirk curl up on your face as you turned to Ochako to help her complete the spell.

You waved to Momo Yaoyorozu as you walked down the hallway to meet up with Shouto and Izuku. Even though she was a Ravenclaw, she was a close friend of yours through Shouto.

And you kinda owed it to your housemates for stopping you from embarrassing yourself multiple times to be nice to their friends.

“Hey, Yao-momo.” You said. “I wasn’t expecting to see you until classes tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, I’m waiting for Kyouka.” She turned his body to lean against the wall. “We’re going to Hogsmeade today.”

“No invitation?”

She smiled at you and asked, “Would you like to join us, Captain?”

“I was joking, no need to sound so enthusiastic.” You chuckled. As you started to speak again, Kyouka Jirou left the classroom the two of you stood outside of. She smiled at you, her violet eyes gleaming at you, reflecting the sun rays.

“Captain!” Kyouka greeted, putting an arm around your shoulder. “Are you coming to Hogsmeade with us?”

“Be careful, your mortal enemies are coming.” Momo interrupted and warned, motioning over your shoulder.

You turned around to find Sero and Bakugou walking next to each other, laughing about something only the two of them knew. You had to hold back from commenting.

“Yoohoo!” Hanta Sero caught your eye. You sighed and turned back to your friends, sharing a look.

“Hello, Hanta.” You felt him beside you before you looked.

You purposely didn’t look at Bakugou.

“We’re celebrating our win tonight, you guys should join!” Sero invited. You heard Bakugou’s exhale of frustration, but you only rolled your eyes in an attempt to ignore his presence.

“You want a group of your rivals, plus one from the team that you beat today hanging out with you, celebrating your win, when Gryffindor go against you in less than a week?” Momo spoke up. Shee moved off of the wall. “No thanks. Come, Kyouka. Let’s go.”

Kyouka waved goodbye and followed her best friend down the hall. You pivoted to fully face the two Slytherins.

"What about the mighty Lion's Captain?" Sero asked.

"No, thanks, I have better stuff to do," you said, turning on your heels and waving at Sero.

Bakugou glared at your retreating figure.

It was the time of year just before winter, where the air starts to cool but the sun still warms your skin. You took a breath and held your broom at your side.

It was near minutes before the anticipated game against Slytherin, the two fated rivals, and you could hear the crowds already. The rivalry between your houses was something that everyone enjoyed; the rivalry between you and their keeper was all you.

“Alright team.” You pivoted to the team behind you. “We’re playing Lion first; and if we don’t get any points within the first two minutes, I’ll hold up the signal for Golden. Got it?”

“Got it.”

You had pretty much the best team between all of the houses in your honest opinion. was perfect as your keeper, he was never one to let anything get past him. Your chasers included you, Shouto, and Eijirou Kirishima. You had Leon and Leo for beaters. Two-third years that showed a huge amount of potential. And, rather recently, you gained a new seeker named Izuku Midoriya. And Izuku being one of your old friends made your teamwork with him, flawless in games

The Slytherin team was not one to mess with, they had a nice team too. Bakugou as the keeper, the Idiots Monoma and Tetsutetsu as beaters, their new seeker Aoyoma… but the problem was their chasers: Sero, Kyouka, Mina. They were so quick on their brooms, it was like working against the wind.

But your team was faster than theirs.

Today was no day to lose.

“It’s our first official match of the year.” You encouraged. “Let’s show them who not to mess with.”

“Let’s absolutely destroy them,” Leon added.

You grinned.

As you headed towards the field, you could feel the adrenaline creeping into your bones. Quidditch had become routine, simple muscle memory as you moved to your starting positions.

The Slytherin team appeared, and you felt the excitement enter you in a rush of air.

And as soon as the whistle sounded, you all flew off in the air, fully intent on kicking Slytherin's butts.

In the air, Bakugou Katsuki felt at peace. He was very good at what he did, and he knew that, and the game was something he was passionate about.

He was also passionate about beating you.

You were the bane of his existence. You had never once sent him anything other than something bitter or sarcastic. You were an annoying pest that he simply couldn’t get rid of.

And as you threw the Quaffle into the goal just above his head, Katsuki felt his eye twitch.

And what even irritated him, even more, was the small smile that you shot at him as you rushed back for a high-five at Todoroki.

Slytherin won, Izuku Midoriya’s hand high with the Snitch inside.

You watched in triumph as the teams descended on the brooms. From the skies down, you cheered.

“Congrats, Gryffindor,” Sero said, though his tone was bitter and sour.

And it did not feel as the statement was supposed to be at all but you ignored it in favour of the elation.

You knew that he hated losing, so you didn’t push it. He was a friend, after all. Sending him just a small “I’m sorry you didn’t win” smile, you headed to your team. You gathered them into a hug, or rather– a huddle, and ruffled the hair on Izuku’s head.

You peeked over your shoulder to catch sight of Bakugou. He was standing, hands at his sides, red face and eyes blank of any expression other than anger.

You smirked at him.

And he snarled back at you.

Katsuki Bakugou was on the other side of the victory this time, silently brooding as he picked at his food in the Great Hall. The Slytherin table emitted zero volume.

He was pissed off the second you entered the hall, Deku and Todoroki walking beside you. The gold and red seemed to glow, mocking him in the worst way imaginable.

Sero tried to bring his attention back to the food, but Bakugou was focused primarily on you. You were gloating, relishing in his loss, taking delight in the compliments from your house. A Hufflepuff appeared at your side, and you smiled as you thanked them for their congratulations.

He felt sick.

And a small part of him felt angry. But that was well deserved by you, he supposes.

You could not help but drown yourself in the triumph. You walked on air, the feeling of superiority tickling every inch of skin it could touch.

You waved goodbye to a couple of friends, heading directly to the Slytherin table. You placed your hands on Sero and Katsuki’s shoulders, leaning to place your head right between theirs.

“I suppose we beat you as I told you.” You sent a wink to Bakugou, knowing full well how it would provoke him.

“Fuck off.” Bakugou shoved your hand off of his shoulder.

“To receive your praise at the Gryffindor table.” Mina shooed, fork in hand. “You won’t find it here.”

“Sore losers.” You mocked just for fun. You stood straight. “I imagine that I would be the same, given it was the other way.”

You basically skipped back to your table for breakfast.

You were absolutely elated for the rest of the day. It was quite similar to being on cloud 9, winning your first game of the year against your rivals. The look on Katsuki Bakugou’s face only added to the feeling.

You were walking down the hall, talking to Denki who had his arm wrapped in yours. He was going on and on about how he wished he could have imprinted Izuku's snitch catch to his memory. Or made it into shirts so he could sell it to his fan club and you laughed at that idea.

That was when your shoulder collided directly into a firm body.

Your arm was ripped away from your classmates, along with your bag that fell onto the hard ground with a loud thud and wisp of parchment and ink. Everything in your bag is now scattered on the ground, covered in dark ink and dirt.

Your mood was too high to get too angry. It was an accident; you would bite your tongue and clean up the mess.

Until you realized just who’s the shoulder you ran into Bakugou Katsuki. Your greatest enemy and now the destruction of your contents.

“Watch where you’re going next time, Bakugou.” You grunted, kneeling to save some of your parchment before the ink could reach it.

“Perhaps if you had your head out of your ass, you wouldn’t have run into me,” Bakugou responded. He had turned to face you midway through your fall.

“As if you didn’t feel this way a week ago.” You told him, standing up. Nearly everything that was in your bag was soaked, including the bag itself. You inhaled deeply. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Now, why would I run my shoulder into you on purpose hoping to ruin your mood?” He asked. “You must be very arrogant to think that everything must be about you.”

You clenched your jaw and closed your eyes. “I will not let a piece of shit such as yourself bring my mood down today. Today is a good day.”

You knelt once again to find the essay that you had written for Aizawa, searching your documents. Only to find it one of the few that were directly under the ink, completely doused in black.

“Actually, fuck you.” You lifted the paper. Ink dripped off and onto the ground. “Do you know how long I worked on this?”

“I don’t know, a couple of minutes?” Bakugou shrugged. “You aren’t exactly the best at your schoolwork.”

“You wish you knew me well, but you don’t at all.” You felt anger boil in your chest. “I worked very hard on this essay. Days, even. And you destroyed it in less than five seconds..”

“There’s the Gryffindor in you.” He let out a humourless laugh. “You think everything has to be about you, and if it doesn’t then someone is out to get you. Your ego is so fucking enormous that you can’t even muster the idea that maybe something isn’t about you. And then you shout at me for that. You didn’t even win, Deku won the game for you. God, why don’t you go make a friend instead of standing here arguing with me about an accident?”

"Fuck you, I actually have friends, unlike you, who only has followers," you answered back to him.

"Well, you have everyone hanging over you. You're just a slut aren't you?"

Denki's eyes widened and the small groups of people who were conversing around you stopped and for a moment you thought that the whole school had heard with the silence that spread.

You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes. Yes, both of you fought in front of each other. Both of you told each other to fuck off or even curse out a few times but none of you ever shouted such vulgar words at each other.

It was one thing to make comments, to be bitter and roll your eyes at each other’s presence. It was one thing to bicker, to fight, to joke to friends about the other’s incompetence and purposely pull on each other’s strings.

It was something else completely to call you a slut in front of everyone in the middle of a hallway after a thread of insults.

The overwhelming force to cry was still there but you would not allow yourself to cry in front of him.

Right after he called you that.

You would not let him have that satisfaction.

So, you turned on your heels and said, "You're more than an asshole Katsuki Bakugou."

And your prompts hurried away.

Denki, who was still frozen on the spot after the volley of insults had to be shot and the worse had been done, shoved Bakugou aside and said, "You shouldn't have said that Bakugou," and rushed behind you, calling out your name.

"You shouldn't call anyone a slut, Katsuki. Those words are not meant to be uttered in a civil society. It's like calling you a pussy publicly," Mitsuki Bakugou uttered, with the most strict voice she could offer while Masuru Bakugou spluttered at the usage of curse words in front of their son.

Katsuki Bakugou did not think often before speaking. He was just so used to people either bowing down and agreeing to his demands or just ignoring them that when he meet you, someone he could neither affect with both of his options, he always blew up.

Perhaps it was the fact that you had such a kind heart that you shook the Giant Squid's tentacle when it came on your boat during your first year because you thought it was lonely.

Or perhaps it was how easily you made friends with people. Just collecting the lonely bits of a big puzzle and joining it together, seemed to be your speciality.

But perhaps the most infuriating thing about you was the fact that you just refused to bow down to his screams and shouts and temper. You rose to receive the challenge he posed.

That is why his heart tore and clawed its way in his chest when you had turned around and run away from him.

He supposes you had stuck beside him long enough.

And he could not ignore the way that your friends glared at him while sitting in the Great Hall, Todoroki being the most vocal about it.

Or the way, Mina made excuses whenever he tried to talk to her.

Or, how Kirishima had stopped trying to drag his butt to Hogsmead for a friendly meet during the weekends.

Yes, he could not ignore all that.

"Maybe you should apologize," Sero suggested one day after catching the solemn look on his face.

"Do what now?" he screamed at him.

"You know, apologize to them," he repeated, slowly.

"Why should I apologize to them?"

"Because you know that you went too far. I know you still have feelings and stuff that you seem to everyone else for it."

For several days Katsuki Bakugou did not see you anywhere. Not in the classes, not in the Great Hall and the weight of his deed was still there.

So he did the next best thing.

He found out when you had booked the Quidditch pitch for practise of your team because he knew you wouldn't abandon them even in your worse days and planned to apologise to you there.

He had even practised it a few times in front of the mirror, "I'm sorry that I hurt your feelings by calling you a slut." It was a small apology but he was hopeful that you would forgive him.

Yes. And you two could go back to the regular hating and biting remarks instead of the new empty kind of feeling that settled in his chest.

But the second he stepped onto the Quidditch, he was stopped by Shouto Todoroki and Izuku Midoriya from going any further.

"Kachaan, you should not be here," Izuku said with more force than he had ever talked to with Katsuki and he wondered, what had you done that so many people were standing in defence of you.

"I know. I just came to apologize to them. Just move out of my way Deku."

Todoroki stepped in front of Izuku and said as bluntly as ever, "They don't want to see you. And I don't think your apology will mean anything to them except for sending them into a bad mood."

Before he could say anything, you came and said, "Zuku, Shou, the break is over. Get your butts moving."

Katsuki felt himself freeze in surprise. You had been at the practice for about two hours yet your voice was not hoarse from shouting. Even your energy levels seemed to be at the ever high.

Though before he could unfreeze and say his apology, you had already flown into the sky with Izuku and Shouto behind, in tow, leaving him behind in the dust.

The loneliness that you left behind with ignoring him was cold.

And his heart broke a little.

And he finally understood, all those years he thought he had the vilest hatred for you was just his stupid emotions trying to tell him that he liked you.

But he was too late now, he supposed.

How could he be such an idiot, to believe that you, out of all people, could ever love him?

Hanta Sero took a place beside you. It would have been normal if it were not for your avid avoidance of anyone with a Slytherin robe on.

“Hello, Hanta.” You said without sparing him a glance.

The thing was, you weren’t angry with him. You didn’t hate him, you hated his closest friend. And by association, you didn’t want to talk to him just as much. Sero had always been the middle ground between the doom and gloom that was the sandy-haired boy you hated.

“I think you should talk to Kats,” Sero said. Plain and simple, to the point.

“I think you should mind your business.” You retorted. “I never talked to him to begin with, what’s different now?”

“Because now is different.” He grabbed his book as the professor walked in. “Now, you won’t even say your smart ass remarks or tell him how fucked up his hair looks. Now he is just… boring and sad. And he mopes all the time. He isn't even playing his best on the field”

“So you want me to talk to the guy I hate in order for him to not be sad?” You scoffed and collected your things. “No, thank you. I've been keeping my distance, just like he wanted and I am happy to keep it this way.”

You stood up from your seat and sat beside Izuku just as the professor started talking, receiving a few stares in the process. It wasn’t as if you weren’t used to that.

You were walking with Ochako, laughing about the attempts everyone had tried to do to make Todoroki laugh when you committed the most horrific mistake of your life.

You caught the eye of Bakugou across the street who just had to look at you at the same moment.

You quickly averted your eyes but not before it caught his attention

It had been snowing, so most of the students were in their winter gear and warm clothes. You yourself had a hat and scarf on, gloves to cover your hands despite the hot to-go mug of cocoa in them.

Hogsmeade was quite busy with everyone getting last-minute holiday gifts and hurrying to hang out before the break. Yet, somehow, your eyes found the reds of Bakugou's.

You turned around, forcing Ochako to follow. The girl didn’t even have to ask about your change in demeanour, easily falling into place beside you.

You felt a hand on your wrist and heard your name being called. “Hey. Can I talk to you? I’ve been trying to apologize…”

You stopped dead in your tracks as if you were pulled on a leash. As if his bare hand touching your empty gloved one had scolded you. Bakugou stood before you, red cheeks from either the cold or from rushing after you. Either way, you wanted nothing to do with it.

He had spun you in his grasp, his jaw tight and eyes searching yours before falling to his hand around yours. His grip on your wrist was tight, and he swallowed as his eyes found yours again.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” You snatched your arm away. “Have you ever considered that? I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see you, and I don’t want to hear your half-ass apology! What gives you the right to just waltz back into my life after all the pain you’ve caused."

“I have been trying to talk to you.” He said. “I…” His eyes scanned yours. His tongue rolled in his mouth. “You mean to tell me that you don’t want my apologies?”

“You’ve made it very clear what you think of me, so I hope that I can make this very clear for you,” You took a deep breath. “I hate you. I don’t like you, I have never liked you, and I hope that whatever it is that is eating you up inside continues to do so.”

Katsuki Bakugou’s eyes twitched. He started to take a step towards you, but decided against it, falling back into the same step. “I don’t…” His voice was nothing as you had ever heard it. “You…” His eyes clouded with the emotions you were familiar with. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

Bakugou faltered for a moment, his eyes held remorse and you almost wanted to forgive him but you remembered what he called you.

He quickly shoved a box of chocolates into your hands and said, "I brought this for you as an apology gift but you didn't want my words. I hope my actions will speak louder. And I hope that someday you will find it in your heart to forgive me," and he promptly left, leaving you flabbergasted in the middle of the streets of Hogsmead, with Ochako by your side.

It was a sudden realization. It was not something you had even considered before, not something planned or reasoned. It was much like a tsunami, a build-up of unrelated activity that brought something else entirely.

Emotions were unfortunate things. If you feel extreme emotions for someone, no matter what… they are still very strong feelings.

Hate to love, what a strange concept.

You held the potion below your nose, inhaling the scent.

“What does it smell like?” Aizawa asked.

“It smells like… caramel.” You distinguished the varying smells. “Apple. And… burning wood?”

You stepped back and hoped no one could see you connecting the dots through your eyes.

Hanta Sero was an observant person. He was known to be the person who knew the best for his team, easily finding the perfect techniques for each on the field and as encouragement. He was one for connections and relationships. He was the one who handled the emotional part.

This is why he knew that you were masking feelings of something else with this burning hatred. This is why he knew why you felt so bad after Kats called you a terrible name in front of an audience. This is why he knew who it was when you listed your amortentia scents.

He tried to send you a look from his seat across from you, classes later. He wanted to tell you that he knew; that he knew there was something more to what’s going on, and that something was Katsuki.

You just sent him a middle finger, knowing full well what he was getting at.

Your feelings didn’t just suddenly arrive. And you were full of confusion, disorientation, and most of all… anger.

For as long as you could remember, Katsuki Bakugou was supposed to be your arch enemy. He was your nemesis on a daily basis. He was the reason for your annoyance. He was the reason for your hatred for the colours green and silver. He was the reason you became the quidditch captain. He was the reason for the breath leaving your lungs.

And he was the reason for the breath entering.

You were pissed. You were pissed that you had unrealized feelings for the man you were supposed to hate, have hated for years. You were pissed that your love had been in a game of chess, where the only outcome is to win or forfeit. You were pissed that the entire time you had spent a vast majority of your time hating, loathing, rolling your eyes at… the entire time you had reserved space for hate when it should have been quite the opposite.

The luck must have been exclusively for someone else because it seemed as though whoever created you had decided to have a fun game.

You had punched Bakugou Katsuki once.

It was something you thought of a lot, and it was the main reason Bakugou chose not to test you too close to that day.

He was rolling his eyes at something Denki was saying when you walked by. You were heading to your quidditch practice, the captain not one for latecomers. And he caught sight of you. He quickly jumped from his spot and stopped you from passing.

“Out of the way, Katsuki, I have practice.”

“Oh, right, because you’re on the quidditch team now.”

“I am, thank you very much.” It was the beginning of the third year, and you were not only annoyed but you were also a Growing Person going through puberty. You did not have time to deal with a teenage boy pissing you off. “You forget that not everyone got on the team their first year of trying out.”

“Because we’re better than the entire Gryffindor team.”

“Talk to me when you win a house cup.” You tried to push past him, but he stood directly in front of you in one step. “Move, or be moved.”

“What are you going to do? Punch me?”

So, you did. Your fist collided with his cheek before you could even register that it had happened. Denki gasped out loud, it quickly turned into a laugh.

“They punched you! That was superb.” Denki laughed, grasping at his sides. “Ah, man!”

While Bakugou touched his cheek to check that— ah yes, you really did punch him— you were already walking away to the practice field.

Katsuki started t missed you if he were being fully and completely honest with himself.

It was right, you only miss something that is completely removed from your life.

He found himself searching for you in classes or in common areas, prepared for your snide remarks and bitter taunts. He found himself waiting for you to roll your eyes at his presence; looking for you to quip about the next quidditch game.

But when none of it came, he felt out of place.

He actually missed your annoying banter. He missed you shoving your middle finger in his direction. He missed the redness on your cheeks when you would try to calm yourself down. He missed the silence that would escape you if he entered a room and you were anything other than angry.

He missed catching you smiling at someone and watching your face change. He missed the arguments in class. He missed the little comments during eating.

Confused, he pushed those feelings down as he watched you eat with some Ravenclaws and a Hufflepuff that he had never talked to before.

And the empty space in his heart only grew larger in size.

It had been several weeks of silence from your end. You had thrown yourself back into quidditch before the break, happy to have a distraction from whatever the fuck you were feeling. You weren’t going home for the holidays, so you spent some time planning for the spring and classes.

You found yourself outside, sitting in the snow and writing a makeup essay for Aizawa. You had found a nice spot under a roofed area, so nothing smudged your writing (or, you know, covered it completely).

“Oh.” A voice said from above you.

You looked up to find Bakugou, hands in pockets and staring at you as if you had never existed and he was discovering you for the first time.

“I wasn’t expecting to find anyone here.” He said.

“Yeah, obviously neither was I.” You started to put your things away.

“No… no comment?”

“Hm?”

“No… snarky comment? No, you look terrible to me?”

You shook your head. Mainly because you didn’t have the energy. You were content, bored, and just overall exhausted. You had exhausted yourself in thinking of every possible outcome to your love for the boy in front of you, none of which made any sense.

None of it made any sense.

It was as if one moment, you were standing on the ground. And the next, you were swept away by a giant wave that you thought was only an earthquake. You hated to love.

“Then, can I finally say what I have been meaning to?”

“No.” You finally got the last of your things into your bag.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why can’t you just hear me out?” He stood in front of you, hoping to stall your leaving. “I’ve been trying to tell you that I shouldn’t have called you a slut, and I should have…”

“And I don’t want to hear it.”

You started to leave, but he jogged to jump in front of you again. Through the years, he had gained height compared to you. You weren’t necessarily kids anymore, you weren’t at eye level to just punch him in his cheek without reaching for it.

“God, you’re fucking annoying.” You shifted your bag on your shoulders. “You want me to call you a name so it can be even? Do you want me to tell you that everything is fine and we can go back to our constant fighting? What do you fucking want from me? Did it mean anything to you? Did I mean anything to you?”

“What do I want from you?” He asked, voice rising to match yours. “What do you want from me? I’ve been trying to get your attention for over a fucking month and you have given me every reason to just stop.”

“Then why don’t you!” You dropped your hands. “Why don’t you just leave me the fuck alone?”

“Why?”

“Why what, Katsuki?”

“Why?” Katsuki let out a small breath, the grey cloud leaving his lungs. “Why won’t you just let me talk to you for five minutes?”

“Because I don’t want to! Because I don’t want to hear you make up excuses. Because I cannot listen to your voice for too long.”

Before you could stop yourself, before you could recognize your own voice, before any thoughts arrived, you said, “Because for some fucked up god awful reason, I’m in love with you!”

Everything froze all at once. The oxygen left your lungs, the snow stopped falling, and everything became so unbearably silent.

You stared at him, regret drenching you in an instant as if the tides of the ocean had risen and fell in one single motion. You couldn’t breathe, your heart seized in your chest and against your ribs. You couldn’t bring yourself to look into his face, fearing to find yourself lost and never found.

He let out a single breath. And you held yours.

He froze and then he leaned forward.

He remembered the last time he was too late to act.

His lips touched yours, gently and then suddenly was full of the fireworks that everyone had said about their first kisses. The fervent feelings that ran through your bodies, the anger and the misplaced love, all tumbling out in the biggest mess he'd ever seen.

But he continued. And then you broke apart.

Both of you had a lot of talking to do with each other but hopefully it would all turn out to be well.

"And so, we both are kinda dating now," you finished with an awkward look on your face, rubbing your neck.

A silence overtook your friends and Izuku whispered, "What the fuck?"

Shouto screamed at the both of you, "I fucking knew it." And then his voice slipped into his conspiracy theorist voice, "There was sexual tension between the two of you."

You facepalmed.

Katsuki turned red.

#bnha #mha #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #x gn reader #bakugou x y/n #mha bakugou #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x reader #boku no hero acadamia oc #bnha fanfic

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ibijau · 3 years

Note

Hi! I was wondering if prompts are open (if they're not, feel free to delete this!) A spy AU with nie mingjue/wen qing as the mcs (maybe an au in which wq has been working as an insider for fbi/police/law enforcement and nmj is one of her contacts?) Badass wq with nerves of steel and never a hair out of place, even in the middle of a shoot out 👀

warning for implied violence

Mingjue held on, gritting his teeth against the pain. It wasn’t the worst he’d been through, but it wasn’t too far from that either.

Had to give that to Meng Yao: he was always good at whatever he did. Too bad that what he’d currently chosen to do was ‘act as Wen Ruohan’s hitman and part time interrogator’, with Mingjue himself as his latest toy to break.

“Can you make him talk?” Wen Ruohan asked, currently lounging on a sofa and watching the whole thing unfold, showing as little interest as if it were a particularly insipid afternoon soap opera.

“Probably not,” Meng Yao replied, with the exact honesty that Mingjue had once been glad to find in a collaborator. “But I can keep going for your entertainment anyway. He’s strong, he can take a lot more of this.”

Like an emperor of old, Wen Ruohan’s only response was a languid gesture to let Meng Yao know that he could continue. Before the young man could resume working, the door opened and an impeccably dressed woman came in. Mingjue got little more than a glimpse of her face before looking away, but it was enough to see an expression of distaste.

“That’s a lot of blood,” she said in a flat voice. “I thought the plan was to keep him alive so we’d have a way to force the Lans out of hiding?”

“It is still the plan,” Wen Ruohan replied. “Meng Yao knows what he’s doing.”

“Hm. Does he now.”

Daring another glance, Mingjue almost laughed at the air of constipated indignation on Meng Yao’s face. If it had been anyone else doubting his skill, they’d be dead. Meng Yao would have killed them for the insult, knowing that Wen Ruohan expected his employees to prove themselves constantly.

But that woman…

“Wen Qing, you are welcome to check on him if you think I’ve done anything he cannot take,” Meng Yao said in the sweetest of voices. “And if I went too far, I’ll be more than happy to hear any constructive criticism.”

Unimpressed by his tone, Wen Qing turned to her uncle and waited until he’d smiled at her before coming closer. She crouched in front of the chair where Mingjue was tied, careful not to get any blood on her perfectly tailored trousers, and ruthlessly poked at his wounds while glaring at him.

‘You’re an idiot for letting them catch you,’ she seemed to say, and she was right, too. He’d trusted Lan Xichen’s inside source too much, should have waited until Wen Qing herself got in touch.

‘Can you get me out of here?’ he tried to convey in return, careful not to let the other two notice a shift in his expression.

The corner of Wen Qing’s mouth twitched, the way it always did when she was trying not to smile.

‘Of course, you big idiot,’ that aborted smile said. ‘I am capable of doing absolutely anything I put my mind to. You’re all lucky I’m not interested in world domination, because I’d be much better at it than my uncle, and I probably still have a plan not only to take over the world, but also to rule it afterwards, which is more than that old idiot can say. Also, I am very beautiful and I know you’re going to beg me to marry you when this is over, Mingjue, and I just might condescend to accept, because unfortunately for every other man in existence, you’re exactly my type.’

…

It was a very expressive non-smile.

And as Wen Qing stood up again, Mingjue felt himself relax in spite of the pain.

He was in good hands now.

#wen qing #nie mingjue #no idea the ship name sorry #jau writes #mo dao zu shi #mdzs

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hetalia-reacts · 3 years

Note

👉👈 hecc

Hope u wouldnt mind but headcanons for allies also including Prussia reacting a short s/o ?

I wouldn’t mind at all~

America

Alfred thinks your height is the cutest thing ever

I mean you’re so tiny and he’s so tall!

You can bet he’s going to pick you up a lot if you need something off the shelves

I mean it’s a perfect opportunity to be close to you, help you, and he gets to show off his hero strength

If you suggest a little step stool or climb on the counters he will literally come up with any excuse so that doesn’t happen

Please let him help you like that, or at least let him get it, it makes him feel like he’s your own personal hero

He likes to joke around with you and rest his arm on your head, but only if you actually think that’s funny

If it annoys you or makes you insecure he’ll apologize and won’t do it ever again

The last thing he would want to do is make you mad or insecure

Speaking of insecure, if you dislike your height and think negatively of yourself rest assured your hero is on the way

Will cuddle you and tell you how much he loves you and your height

Constantly reminds you how cute you are and if cute isn’t your style he’ll tell you have cool your height makes you

If you need him to, or really let him have enough time to, he will make a list on why being short is cooler than being tall

Alfred will also not hesitate to stop anyone from bullying you over something like your height

Someone said something mean or unnecessary? Point him at the guy and it’s over for ‘em

Would want to call you something funny as a pet name

like you could be shortstack and he can be beanstalk or something

Alfred is a dork, but he loves you and everything about you

England

Arthur adores your height

It became something he came to really appreciate and love while being with you

He likes that you ask him for help with things that are too high for you to reach

And that you fit perfectly with him when you guys cuddle

Plus not to mention he loves the size difference between you, even if it isn’t a lot it’s something he secretly loves

Never mentions anything about your height for the most part

No teasing or jokes about it

He’s scared that would hurt your feelings or make you feel bad

Plus he knows how it feels to be on the receiving end of bullying for something you can’t change

If you ever bring up being insecure about your height or simply just getting annoyed by it one day he’ll get really defensive of you

Like how could you say that about yourself? About something he adores about you?

Mandatory cuddle session after that

he’s not letting you get away without some encouragement and sweet words

If anyone else mentions it and you get sad, oh boy

They are getting a harsh lecture from him about being a gentlemen/lady

France

Francis doesn’t think much of your height if he’s being honest

Like is it adorable watching you stand on your tippy toes to reach things? Yes of course it is

But does he make it a point to mention it and make your lack of height apparent? No absolutely not

He would get stuff off the shelves for you but only if you were to ask

He’s kind of big on not making you feel less than or like you can’t do things on your own

Admittedly he enjoys being able to rest his chin on the top of your head while you two hug

Very endearing in his mind

If you get insecure about your height he’s there for you every step of the way

Francis can’t stand watching you get sad or angry with yourself, especially over something you have no control over

So he will comfort you through the whole episode

He’ll make you food, cuddle you, compliment you, heck he’d sing to you if that’s what was going to make you feel better

If someone else was making you feel bad about your height Francis would handle the situation

While he isn’t much on fighting He’d gladly square up to someone that made you feel bad about yourself

Or if you’d prefer he’d go over there and just angrily talk it out with the person

In the end, Francis can’t say being short is what drew him to you, but he can appreciate how cute it makes you and how it’s just another part of what makes you beautiful in his eyes

Canada

Matthew enjoys how short you are

And the height difference that it brings

Like how cute is it that you aren’t eye level with him unless you stand on something

And when you have to stand on your tippy-toes to reach something? Or when you climb on stuff to reach stuff?

He lives for it honestly

Would never pick you up to reach stuff, but he did think about it once or twice but figured it would be rude if he did that

Does want to call you a nickname in reference to your height and he will gladly accept any nickname you might want to give him in return

Doesn’t tease you about your height though, he’s not trying to make it a sore subject or anything

If it is a sore subject he’ll be delicate when bringing it up or cracking any seemingly harmless jokes

If you’re getting down on yourself about the height he’s going to cuddle and compliment you for weeks to come

Like makes it a point to bring it up and bring up how great it is

Someone else says something about your height? Well he’s not going to do much to them and would rather comfort you before it starts to hurt your feelings

Expect him to kiss the top of your head a lot or just rest his chin on your head while hugging or cuddling

Matthew will be expecting you to steal his hoodies from him because please it’s so cute they’re giant on you and he loves to see it

Russia

Ivan loves it obviously

I mean he’s a literal giant and seeing you so short compared to him makes his heart do the melting thing

It makes him want to protect you from the world

Even if you are crazy strong and assertive

Picking you up is a habit for him at this point

Like you don’t even have to ask to get something, he just does it

It might be a little insulting, but he’s not meaning for it to be that way

100% rests his hand on your head

Not to demean you or crush you, just to pat your head and have the comfort of knowing you’re there and he’s there for you

If you begin to feel down in the dumps over your height I feel like Ivan would be the one to suggest some logical solutions to it while also being supportive

Like he’ll suggest heels or platform shoes, but he’ll also tell you that you’re perfect just the way you are and you don’t need those things

If someone else says something mean about it

Well the metal pipe may come into play, or some very ominous staring and creepy smiling to mess with the person if you won’t let him handle it physically

Often gives you his scarf or coat to wear

They are gigantic compared to you and he likes to wrap you up in them

China

Yao thinks your height is adorable and has always thought that since first meeting you

He thinks it’s very cute and considering he isn’t the tallest among many it’s kind of nice to be taller than his s/o

Would never try to pick you up to reach things

Or say anything that might be considered mean about your height

He just isn’t about making you feel bad about something like that

Likes to kiss the top of your head or your forehead

If you mention not liking your height Yao goes into mama mode

Questions about who made you feel this way, why they said that, and why they’re wrong are flying out of his mouth at a mile a minute

He’s going to be the one to tell you not to think that way about yourself because you were made perfect, but if you wanted to wear heels or something that made you appear taller he wouldn’t stop you

If somebody said something mean about your height in front of him it’s on

Yao will actively attack whoever said something about you, it will be hands on-site, no further questions

Will ask you to wear his clothes a lot

He thinks they suit you and he can’t get over how long the sleeves are for you

Prussia

Gilbert is always very aware of your height

For starters, he probably doesn’t tower over you but still

you’re much shorter than him and that makes him think he needs to be delicate with you

Even if in reality you could best him in a fight any day of the week with your hands tied behind your back

He likes to pick you up and spin you around

Also likes to pick you up rather than just get something down from the higher shelves for you

Piggybacks you a lot so you can see over crowds or just because

Gilbert really likes that he can easily kiss the top of your head

and that he can tuck you under his chin like it was nothing

Really just makes him feel like he can protect you from anything

If someone says something nasty to you about your height Gilbert will throw hands

He's certainly thrown them for less so why not now

If you won't let him get physical, fine, he won't cause a scene

but you're gonna have to deal with his overprotectiveness and affection for the rest of the day

and god forbid you're getting down on yourself about your height

He's going to make a list of all your strengths and the advantages of being short

those include getting head kisses from him, being able to fit perfectly in his arms, and being able to hide basically anywhere you want for hide and seek

The list is kind of childish but his goal was to make you feel better by laughing while also getting to compliment you

If you were to wear his clothes he might die by the sight of you drowning in them, so proceed with caution

#aph america #hws america #aph england #hws england #aph france #hws france #aph canada #hws canada #aph russia #hws russia #aph china #hws china #aph prussia #hws prussia #hetalia #hetalia reactions #hetalia headcanons

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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years

Text

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 10 second part

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Meta)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Unclean Realm

Lan Wangji has a Louis Henry Sullivan moment on seeing the Nie family home, becoming enraptured by its overwrought monumental architecture after a lifetime of restrained good taste and single-story buildings.

He approaches the fortress with the expression of delighted wonder that he usually reserves for when he’s looking at the moon or at Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian is like, yep that’s a building, all right, but he supports Lan Wangji’s kinks.

Meng Yao tells them about the Wen Clan directive, and has what appears to be a moment of genuine, affectionate amusement at Nie Huaisang’s reaction.

Jiang Cheng kinda blames the Lans for inventing the whole “indoctrination” thing and for encouraging his brother’s disaster bi tendencies. Wei Wuxian responds by complimenting the Lan Clan, almost like someone who met his true love got some real value out of the instruction he received there.

(more after the cut)

One of the great ironies of this story is that Wei Wuxian sort of becomes a rogue Lan disciple because of his relationship with Lan Wangji. He relies on Lan temperament techniques, uses music as a primary cultivation method, has committed all of the Lan rules to his supposedly terrible memory and cites them on multiple occasions, and is an important mentor for the younger generation Lan disciples. Because Hanguang-Jun is just that good in bed.

Xue Yang in the background of this conversation is channeling OP’s church-enduring, school-enduring inner 10-year-old.

Nie Mingjue, Chifeng-Zun, appears, and couldn’t be more different than his brother. On first watching this episode, I saw him as a grumpy, sexy, very emotional leather daddy man who is quick to anger. Rewatching, I see someone who’s struggling with a growing illness...the resentful energy kind.

Nie Mingjue’s handling of resentful energy is very different from Wei Wuxian’s straightforward interest and acceptance. NMJ has a traditional cultivator’s view of it, regarding it as evil and as something to resist, while he is literally carrying it on his back. He’s like a secret alcoholic who is preaching temperence, and can’t find a way to be reconciled with himself.

At this point of the story, Nie Mingjue is keeping it together, but is under a hell of a lot of stress, and Baxia’s blood thirst is already maybe a problem.

The Yunmeng bros think that Nie Huaisang’s fear of his brother is hilarious, because they don’t understand the situation. They think he’s just living in a hideously toxic family dynamic like theirs, when actually he’s in a loving, sorta healthy, if parentless, family that is being crushed under a generational curse.

Compliments for the Yunmeng Bros

I’m not the first meta poster to notice how happy Jiang Cheng is to be praised by Nie Mingjue.

He never gets this at home. Jiang Yanli praises him, but in that watery “you tried your best” way that doesn’t really stick. Nie Mingjue’s praise really means something, because he is a fearsome warrior and stern authority figure. And this is a double compliment, because Nie Mingjue says he heard it from Lan Xichen, and agrees with it.

Let’s Make Terrible Decisions

Keep Xue Yang alive, says Wei Wuxian, and Meng Yao immediately agrees, although I’m pretty sure he would have proposed that even if WWX hadn’t.

So they do, not realizing that “kill him later” is never a good plan for someone who 1. super needs killing 2. has a whole lot of death-dealing skills.

Future clan leader Jiang Cheng notices how smart and talented Meng Yao is. Xue Yang finds it hilarious when the trio praises Meng Yao, possibly because their evil team up is already underway.

Boss’ Bed Warmer Son of a Ho

The constant insults toward Meng Yao are about his mom, but there’s another level of leering implication, that Meng Yao seems to encourage in his conversation with the soon-to-be-murdered guard captain.

Nie Mingjue elevated him way above his expectations, and he is ridiculously pretty, which has to create rumors. In the Nightless City scenes when he’s fondling Baxia and telling Nie Mingjue’s family secrets there’s definitely a sense of intimacy that’s not just “loyal retainer.”

I feel like maybe this whole exchange is a bit of theater designed to show Xue Yang something without showing it to anyone else. Meng Yao didn’t need to have this conversation in front of his prisoner.

Let’s Do Exactly What We Said We Wouldn’t

Once the younger quartet are alone with Nie Mingjue, Wei Wuxian crosses the room away from his friends and practically into Lan Wangji’s pocket, if Lan Wangji had pockets.

He has no pockets and also has no personal bubble any more, when it comes to Wei Wuxian.

We could make a weapon out of Yin Iron, Wei Wuxian says, completely forgetting his entire conversation with Lan Yi, apparently. Lan Wangji doesn’t argue with this idea.

Nie Mingjue warns Wei Wuxian not to try it.

I stabbed a man in Qinghe just to watch him die

Nie Mingjue is like the Johnny Cash of the cultivation world, carrying the weight of his poor choices and trying to steer the young folk to the path of righteousness. But--like Johnny Cash--his bad choices have made him really fucking cool, so he isn’t very good at deterring anybody.

Meng Yao Didn’t Come Here to Make Friends

Immediately after Meng Yao’s fellow Nie clan people call him “son of a whore” again, Wei Wuxian meets him, is nice to him, addresses him by his military title, bows to him, asks why he’s away from the party, and thanks him for his service.

But Meng Yao has already decided to make friends with Xue Yang, so Wei Wuxian goes onto his list of people that he doesn’t give a crap about except if they can be useful to him. Then Meng Yao goes to make out hatch a plot with Xue Yang.

I’ll Sleep On Your Roof

Meeting SongXiao seems to have done away with the last of Lan Wangji’s resistance to his connection with Wei Wuxian.

He hears a noise on the roof and, when realizing it’s Wei Wuxian, he smiles one of his tiny reserved smiles before heading outside.

When he sees Wei Wuxian drunkenly sprawled on the roof, limbs akimbo, wine on his chin and neck, mouth full of poetry about the open road, Lan Wangji gives him the most fond look imaginable.

Then he reluctantly leaves, with his signature “say goodbye, but only when he can’t hear you” thing.

They’ve both come a really long way since their first meeting. Wei Wuxian is openly and vocally attaching himself to Lan Wangji...but is not actually entering his space or asking for anything from him; he just wants to be near him, and wants to let him know that. “I’ll sleep on your roof tonight.”

And Lan Wangji just...loves him. Wei Wuxian is drunk, embarrassing, demonstrative, eager to make a hell weapon out of yin iron, touchy feely, and absurdly sexy. And Lan Wangji is pretty okay with all of that.

I Might Have Been Drunk

Wei Wuxian carefully avoids telling Jiang Cheng where he was last night.

Even if he did get blackout drunk, he would have woken up on Lan Wangji’s roof. And I don’t think he was as drunk as that. He just knows Jiang Cheng wouldn’t like the truth.

Wen Fucking Chao, Again

Wen Chao shows up to be annoying and boring. This leads to a pretty good fight between Nie Mingjue and Wen Zhuliu. Note that when the chips are down, Nie Huaisang stands with his Gege without any cowering. Almost as if he had hidden reserves of bravery, and is not as helpless as he lets on.

Wen Zhuliu isn’t styled to be super hot, although he’s certainly compelling, and in Dance of the Phoenix he looks good with sensitive-guy hair wispies. I wonder what actor Feng Mingjing looks like out of character?

BRB, adding a tag to my follow list

Battle Bros

When the fighting breaks out, the Yunmeng brothers are decisive and united, with Wei Wuxian giving orders to Jiang Cheng and JC following without hesitation.

I feel like if these two could have gone through a few big battles together, instead of being separated during most of the Sunshot campaign, their whole relationship would have improved. On the battlefield, they respect, trust, and understand each other.

The Pointy End

Nie Mingjue is holding his own against Wen Zhuliu, but he gets distracted by Meng Yao hollering “Xue Yang has escaped” and then shanking the guard captain right in front of him.

Wen Zhuliu takes advantage of the distraction to aim a very slow stab at Nie Huasang, and Meng Yao jumps in front to get stabbed on his behalf.

When the Yunmeng bros show up to help NMJ, Wen Zhuliu immeiately yanks Wen Chao back behind him and points his sword at Wei Wuxian. He absolutely sees these two as a serious threat. Considering that eventually WWX is going to kill Wen Chao while JC kills Wen Zhuliu, this concern is not misplaced.

Wei Wuxian tells Wen Chao to stop being such a jerk, and Wen Chao menaces Wei Wuxian and gloats about the burning of cloud recesses. The burning, that is, of some part of cloud recesses that doesn’t include the library, the Jingshi, the main cultivation chamber, the rabbit warren, or Lan Qiren’s house, unless the Lan Clan is really really good at rebuilding things to very exact specifications.

In a rare moment of seeing Meng Yao’s internal thoughts, he is worried about Lan Xichen when he hears about cloud recesses.

The Yelling Part

Now we have the particularly nasty breakup between Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao. It’s...got some layers. Meng Yao is cowering on the floor, but is not apologizing.

He never apologizes throughout this encounter.

孟瑤無悔 - Meng Yao (has) no regrets

This scene is amazing and excruciating to watch, even more when you know what’s ahead.

What the Fuck is Meng Yao’s Plan

On one level this is Meng Yao, manipulative sociopath, setting up a cover story for his aiding and alliance with Xue Yang. On another, this is Meng Yao, loving subordinate, being tossed aside by his lord because he dared to stand up for himself.

He uses the same “scout’s honor” gesture we’ve seen Wei Wuxian use to swear he’s telling the truth. Wei Wuxian is always lying when he uses this gesture.

I’m...not sure exactly what Meng Yao’s plan is, with all these chess moves? By stabbing the captain in front of NHS, he created an opportunity to plant a cover story about Xue Yang’s escape. He might be hoping that Nie Mingjue will forgive him and keep him on, while Xue Yang can stay in his back pocket to be used later.

Dry eyes? Try Visene

Or he might be intending to get kicked out, given his non-apology. In any case, Nie Mingjue is weeping during this encounter, and Meng Yao...isn’t. He is signaling distress in his voice, expression, and body language, but his eyes are dry up until the last moment, and even then they just glisten a bit. In a show where every actor is an expert at crying on cue, that’s got to be a deliberate choice.

Which isn’t to say that Meng Yao is faking being full of emotion in this scene. It’s just that the emotion isn’t necessarily sorrow.

What Does Nie Mingjue’s Head Think

Flip the view and this is about Nie Mingjue being betrayed by a subordinate, who has turned out to be a self-serving murderer. And on another level it’s Nie Mingjue being betrayed by his lover, who was just using him for advancement.

I rewatched the later episode where we get the scene as Nie Mingjue’s head perceived it, and he’s particularly brokenhearted and disillusioned from his head’s POV. In that version there is a telling addition to the conversation.

Nie Mingjue asks about the guys who were roasting Meng Yao behind his back. He asks, if I hadn’t come, would you have murdered all of them?

Um. No, dude. Of course fucking not. That’s what a patriarchal authority does. That’s the way an angry Nie Mingjue/Baxia team might solve a problem.

Meng Yao has to use subterfuge to kill his enemies. And while he super hates being called “son of a whore” it’s absolutely not enough to make him kill someone, with the risk murder brings. Likewise, being treated well isn’t enough to make him spare someone. Nie Mingjue totally doesn’t get this, because he’s been the patriarch of this clan his entire adult life.

And Here’s the Actual Problem

There is a betrayal here, but Nie Mingjue is not simply a victim. Whether it’s a sexual relationship or a non-sexual bond of affection, there can be nothing solid in Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao’s relationship within a feudal society, because it is fundamentally unequal. Even if they love each other deeply - which I’m not convinced either of them does - every encounter they have is tainted with power dynamics.

Meng Yao has been elevated by Nie Mingjue and quite probably taken into his bed, as well as being told many family secrets, but has not been given a new surname (like, for example, Wen Zhuliu was) or independent power. More importantly, Nie Mingjue has not used his authority to remove or punish the many people who disrespect his subordinate. Lan Qiren would have had all of those gossipy fuckers kneeling in the snow, and Wen Ruohan would feed them to his mosh pit zombies.

Meng Yao is a murderous little snake, but he is right to be angry with Nie Mingjue about some things, and his pursuit of his own agenda is understandable.

Well, That Was a Slice

Meng Yao leaves, hurt, with a dignified bow; just as he did that one time when his dad kicked him down the Carp Tower steps.

Take note, both patriarchal authorities: that is his way of saying “I’m going to murder you one day.”

Nie Mingjue sits with his broken heart, as we realize that we’ve only spent 20 minutes with this guy and we’ve gone on an entire emotional journey with him. This episode packed in a LOT.

Soundtrack: Johnny Cash, Folsom Prison Blues

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #wangxian #meng yao #nie mingjue #my gifs #canary3d-original #the untamed meta #the untamed gifs #restless rewatch the untamed

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bewareof12metersfrogs · 3 years

Text

Warning: long rant. Probably messed up grammar. Not LXC-friendly.

So Pinterest gave me this:

And I was like

Ah yes, Lan Xichen.

I mean, I love that guy, but oh gosh that man is BLIND. Like, man's so blind Xue Yang could use him to slaughter people.

(I'm so sorry for that joke)

I really loved him when I first read the book, esp pre-Nightless City, but then I read it for the second (and third) time and that love turned into "uhh, I guess I kinda like him?"

I mean, in Sunshot Campaign arc, NMJ just got freaking tortured. He just got beaten, made to watch his men die, and his former deputy "betrayed" him -- and then LXC was just like, "oh da-ge CALM down, this is all part of OUR plan, A-Yao's our spy lol put Baxia away don't shout at him smh"

Why didn't LXC say to NMJ that the whole thing had been orchestrated? Okay, I get it, maybe he couldn't risk JGY getting caught, but couldn't he just tell NMJ, "hey, this is the plan. You're gonna get caught at Yangquan by WRH and our spy will take care of the rest of it" ? I'm pretty sure NMJ was angrier about his men getting slaughtered than himself getting beaten. NMJ is kinda like WWX; they were both idiots, but they cared about their people. Pretty sure he cared more about his men than himself. If he knew about the "plan", he'd most likely bring the disciples who were ready to die.

THEN LXC just went to NMJ like, "Hey let's be sworn brothers!". Xichen, dude, his wounds aren't even healed. I mean, it's a bit insensitive right?? I think it is. The whole sworn-brotherhood-right-after-shunshot-campaign thing still bothers me. To me, it seems like no one cared about NMJ. I mean, he was the leader of SC, people used his skills, his men, his everything, and then he was just, like, casted aside?? Pretty sure man's got PTSD. Also, qi deviation. Oh gosh I forgot about qi deviation.

Anyway, yeah, LXC was blind throughout the novel. I won't talk about the scene where Wangxian tried to tell him that A-Yao = bad, but I will talk about the scene where NHS decided to "use" his er-ge to kill his san-ge. Was it intentional? Perhaps. Was NHS lying? Maybe. Was it bad? Absolutely. Was it expected? Of course.

Let's put ourselves in NHS' shoes for a second. Your big bro, who is also the one who raised you and the only family you have left, died. People are quacking "oh it's the Nie curse, and isn't it such a tragedy?" BUT NO! One day you be minding your own business and then BAM you found out that da-ge'd been murdered and mutilated AND betrayed. So you started scheming for like a decade. Everything was going great, as great as a 10 years revenge plan could ever be. You just gotta wait for a few more hours, you just gotta listen to your nemesis' retelling his sad background story, you just gotta endure the pain of seeing your dead big bro wrecking havoc, and you'd have your revenge.

Then of course your er-ge, your big bro's best friend, gotta help your big bro's killer. He just gotta treat his wounds, huh? Pretty sure NHS was unstable. He was desperate and maybe even full of wrath. I understand that, at least, the same way I understand that maybe LXC tried to treat JGY's wounds because he still saw him as his brother -- he didn't want to lose another brother. But how about NHS? He was watching the man whom he thought was his brother treating the man who betrayed and murdered his actual brother. NHS was being a dick, yeah, but it was expected.

Think about this for a second. NMJ's corpse was still right there (and gosh, NHS had to sew his big bro's corpse by himself). NHS was RIGHT there, and LXC had the audacity to tend to JGY's wounds after the man himself admitted to his crimes. I think it's understandable if NHS felt at least insulted.

Also, he was perhaps sick of people not thinking that his big brother was as important as other people, that he was also a human being instead of just a war machine or even a mere tool that can be casted aside whenever they want to. Why did his brother have to die because of other people's greed and selfish decisions? Why did he have to lose the only family he had left forever and why did he have to just sit back and accept it?

Most importantly, LXC had been too blind for more than a decade too long.

Also, the bit about "You're Wangji's only mistake":

Bruh.

If WWX is LWJ's only mistake, then (trusting) LXC is NMJ's only mistake. I mean, sure, WWX is as dumb and oblivious as a rock, but can you really blame him?? HE WAS TRYING TO KEEP HIMSELF, HIS FAMILY, AND THE WEN REMNANTS ALIVE, DUDE'S GOT NO TIME TO THINK ABOUT FKING ROMANCE.

Sorry, I got carried away.

Anyway, are we just gonna ignore the fact that LWJ had been acting like he hated WWX since, like, the first time they met?? I mean, I really love LWJ, but his only mistake is his communication skills (or lack thereof).

But LWJ never gave up on WWX. He learned to express himself way better. Man's got dedication and he's not afraid to learn. I really love that about him.

Also, I understand that LXC was angry because LWJ took beatings to protect WWX, but I don't think he had the right to blame WWX for that. Yes, I know WWX did plenty of things wrong; he was extremely reckless and untrusting, but he never asked LWJ to protect him. LWJ did everything voluntarily. Ffs Xichen WWX didn't even know that LWJ did that. You know why? CAUSE HE WAS FKING DYING THAT'S WHY.

TLDR: LWJ was a grown ass man.

Okay. So, do I hate LXC? No. But do I find him flawed? Yes. But that's why I like MXTX's characters, including WRH, JGY, and LXC (the only exception are perhaps JGS and MXY's fam, and I think we all know why). They all have flaws. For me, LXC is too naive and blind, JGY is too power-hungry and selfish, and NMJ is too stubborn and unyielding. NHS? Well, he's a lot of things. He's manipulative, unsympathetic, and IMO he's got a problem with obsession too. He and JGY are alike, in my opinion. The main difference is their goals: JGY seeks power, NHS seeks revenge.

Everyone has flaws. LWJ and WWX have flaws too; they're EXTREMELY flawed. Heck, even our lord and saviour Shijie also has flaws, as much as it hurts me to type that.

Then why do I get so worked up about LXC's flaws? Honestly I don't really know. Maybe it's because I'm tired of (almost) the entirety of fandom treating him like a god, maybe because I'm tired of people who treat NHS like the devil himself, or maybe because I'm disappointed in him. I mean, JGY's our main villain, but I still love him so much. Heck, I love him even more than I love LXC. Bruh, nowadays I even like WRH more. At least that guy is downright evil and he looks cool while doing whatever evil things WRH does (I'm talking about the novel and donghua mmkay).

Anyway, this is the end of my rant. I apologise if I'm offending you, this is just something that's been bothering me since the first time I re-read MDZS. This whole thing is like a plot bunny but instead of a "plot", the bunny is shaped like a "rant". This is a rant bunny. I need to get this outta my head. I've edited this thing like four times already because I keep finding errors and stuffs. I also added like two new paragraphs.

I'm sad now.

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bloody-bee-tea · 3 years

Text

On the other side

Asadbatman over on Twitter wanted to see the other side of the Clan Swap fic, where Jiang Cheng gets transported into Lan Wanyin’s body and where he meets Jiang Xichen. You can find “In every timeline” here and you should probably read that one first. This comes in at 12k.

Lan Wanyin is reading over a particularly insulting letter on his favourite pier, but even that does nothing to soften the frown on his face.

Sect Leader Yao really has a lot of nerve to send this letter to Jiang Xichen who—for all intents and purposes—is a goddamn war hero now, not even to mention the Sect Leader of one of the most powerful Sects out there.

Lan Wanyin takes a deep breath and decides to deal with that letter later—much later, if he can get away with it—before he turns his attention towards the lake in front of him.

It’s a rather calming sight, and one of the reasons why this is his favourite place in Lotus Pier. The lake stretches on for longer than the eye can see, and this close to the piers, there are dozens of lotus heads gently bobbing on the water and it’s so calming and relaxing that Lan Wanyin could totally drift off here.

Except that he still has work to do, because Jiang Xichen trusts him to deal with the paperwork and this part of running a Sect even though they are not married. Yet.

But Lan Wanyin will not allow anyone to say that he’s slacking off, and even though this is a private pier there is still a chance someone might catch a glimpse of him, and so he lets out another sigh as he picks up the next letter from the stack to his side.

He wonders if the stacks always get so high, but then he remembers fondly that there is almost nothing more Jiang Xichen hates doing than paperwork and with how victorious Yunmeng Jiang came out of the Sunshot Campaign it’s understandable that everyone wants to gain a favour with Jiang Xichen.

Lan Wanyin is very pleased that Jiang Xichen allows him to be the one to formulate very polite “Fuck off” replies to them, he’s not going to lie about that.

“What are you doing?” Jiang Xichen suddenly whines from behind him and drapes himself all over Lan Wanyin’s back.

“Doing the work you pushed off on me?” Lan Wanyin gives back without even putting the letter in his hand down.

He has gotten rather used to Jiang Xichen being as tactile as he is, and Lan Wanyin is enjoying it immensely, even though he would never admit it. He would blush his way through every single word of that sentence, he just knows it, and then Jiang Xichen would tease him about it, and Lan Wanyin would blush even harder.

He knows that from experience.

“But I didn’t mean you have to do the work immediately,” Jiang Xichen sighs, but he stays where is, with his arms around Lan Wanyin’s waist and his head hooked over his shoulder.

“I’d rather get it out of the way,” Lan Wanyin says, patting Jiang Xichen’s hand on his stomach.

“You’re all work and no fun, lately,” Jiang Xichen complaints and Lan Wanyin’s mouth twists with his words.

He knows that he hasn’t been the most fun to be around lately, but one of them has to take the task of leading a Sect seriously and it certainly isn’t going to be Jiang Xichen, no matter how effortlessly he still seems to fall into the role as Sect Leader.

Lan Wanyin puts it down to his rigorous training and Lan Wanyin did not receive the same training. He was never meant to be Sect Leader, so he has a lot to catch up to, he knows that. Especially since the wedding is still a few months away.

He just doesn’t want to embarrass Jiang Xichen with his ignorance before they are even tied together.

“If you keep this up, I’ll give you something to complain about,” Lan Wanyin says with less bite than he intended to, but then again he never can be really mad at Jiang Xichen.

To underline his threat he reaches out for Sect Leader Yao’s letter and waves it in front of Jiang Xichen’s face, who makes a grimace at that, but then hides his smile in Lan Wanyin’s neck.

“Feisty. I like it,” he mutters, and Lan Wanyin doesn’t mean to, but he freezes up completely.

With how Jiang Xichen is still pressed close to him, he notices it immediately of course and Lan Wanyin can almost hear him frown.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice low and soothing, and Lan Wanyin hates that he is still like this—that the doubt is still a niggling bud in his mind—but he also can’t help it.

“If you like feisty so much, you should probably go look for my counterpart again,” Lan Wanyin says, and this comes out much more bitter than he thought it would.

It’s too telling, he knows that immediately, and Jiang Xichen pulls away for long enough to make Lan Wanyin panic before Jiang Xichen simply turns him around and pulls him into a hug.

“I don’t want your counterpart,” Jiang Xichen tells him, his voice controlled and even, and despite the way Lan Wanyin clings to Jiang Xichen he lets out a bitter laugh.

“Yeah, right,” he mutters. “You wouldn’t even have noticed me if it wasn’t for him catching your eye,” he goes on, hiding his face much more firmly in Jiang Xichen’s chest, because he doesn’t want to know what kind of face he makes at that.

But Jiang Xichen is not letting him hide; he pushes Lan Wanyin away, so that he can look him in the eye when he next speaks.

“He might have managed to catch my eye, but it’s you who kept it for years now,” Jiang Xichen tells him and Lan Wanyin blushes at his words.

Jiang Xichen has never made a secret out of the fact that he fell head over heels in love with him, but his actions speak very loudly too.

Like the fact that he not only allows Lan Wanyin into his home and family, but that he also trusts him to lead the Sect together with him. Lan Wanyin knows how much Yunmeng Jiang means to Jiang Xichen and it regularly warms his heart to know that Jiang Xichen wants to share this with Lan Wanyin.

“Shut up,” Lan Wanyin grumbles slightly, but he’s very pleased by Jiang Xichen’s answer.

“Only when you stop being stupid,” Jiang Xichen gives back and brushes a kiss over Lan Wanyin’s cheek.

“I’m not stupid,” Lan Wanyin protests more out of reflex than anything else and then he sighs. “I know you love me and it’s stupid of me to still be jealous of my counterpart,” Lan Wanyin admits.

But knowing that he is unreasonably jealous and not being jealous are two completely different things and Lan Wanyin is not doing well with the latter part.

Jiang Xichen hums at his words and manhandles him around again, until Lan Wanyin sits with his back to Jiang Xichen’s chest and Jiang Xichen hugs him close.

“You never did tell me what happened in that other world,” Jiang Xichen lowly says and Lan Wanyin shrugs.

He doesn’t think anything that happened to him in that world is worth mentioning, but he guesses that Jiang Xichen has burned to ask this question for a long while now.

“Fine,” he sighs and pulls down Jiang Xichen so he sits pressed up to his back and he puts his hands over the arms around his middle. “I’ll tell you.”

~*~*~

Lan Wanyin wakes up to someone frantically calling his name.

“Jiang Cheng? Jiang Cheng, wake up right this instant! Jiang Wanyin! Don’t make your poor brother fret like this, come on. A-Cheng? Chengcheng?”

Okay, someone calling a semblance of his name, anyway.

Lan Wanyin groans slightly, before he blinks his eyes open, and his vision is immediately filled with a mop of unruly hair and a worried face of a person Lan Wanyin has never seen before in his entire life.

“Jiang Cheng?” the person asks him and Lan Wanyin pushes him away as politely as he can.

“No,” he says, immediately startled by how deep his voice is.

He looks down at himself, to figure out if there is a visible clue as to why he was unconscious, but when he sees dark purple robes he frowns. His frown only deepens when it feels like something vital is missing.

“What is going on?” he asks the other person, who is clearly not at all reassured now that he’s awake.

“Jiang Cheng?” he is asked again and Lan Wanyin shakes his head.

“My name is Lan Wanyin,” he gives back and watches as the person goes pale at his side.

“Lan Wanyin,” he mutters and then he scrambles up to frantically gather a few papers.

Lan Wanyin watches him study them, seemingly more desperate the more he reads and when the guy looks at him Lan Wanyin can see something close to panic on his face.

“Oh fuck,” the guy mutters and then plasters a smile on his face so quickly it gives Lan Wanyin whiplash.

“I’m Wei Wuxian, nice to meet you,” he says, adopting a cheery tone that’s so obviously fake that Lan Wanyin cringes on his behalf.

“Where am I?” he asks, but when he looks around he can tell that this is the Jingshi, so he changes his question. “Why are you in my home?” he asks instead and watches as the smile on Wei Wuxian’s face falters dangerously.

“Your home, of course,” he mutters. “You’re Lan Wanyin and this is your home,” he goes on and Lan Wanyin bristles at his words.

“Yes, I am and yes it is. And I demand an explanation from you now!” he says, trying for a stern tone, but he knows it comes out much more wavering than he’d like.

“I’m sorry, this must be really stressful for you,” Wei Wuxian says, and he sounds so sympathetic that Lan Wanyin immediately has to bite back some tears.

“Just explain to me what’s going on,” he tries again and Wei Wuxian sighs, clearly about to give in, but before he can do that, someone slides open the door.

“Jiang Cheng? Wei Wuxian?” the newcomer asks and Wei Wuxian gives a fleeting smile to Lan Wanyin before he gets up and turns around to the new man that stepped into Lan Wanyin’s home uninvited.

He’s wearing the customary Lan white—he even has a forehead ribbon—but Lan Wanyin has never seen him in his life and he frowns at him. All that does though, is making it startling clear that he’s missing his own forehead ribbon, and suddenly Lan Wanyin feels entirely too naked.

“Lan Xichen,” Wei Wuxian says with a nod of his head. “Meet Lan Wanyin,” he then goes on with a nod towards Lan Wanyin, who is still on the ground, and Lan Wanyin scrambles to get up.

It’s a little bit strange, this new body; he seems to be taller and broader than he’s used to being and he fumbles around for a second before he falls into an appropriate bow.

“What is going on?” Lan Xichen wants to know, his expression bordering on outright pained and sad, and Lan Wanyin turns expectant eyes on Wei Wuxian because he is still expecting an answer to that very same question as well.

“It seems that my spell did not work as intended,” Wei Wuxian says with a wince and Lan Wanyin watches as Lan Xichen’s eyebrows rise on his forehead.

“What spell?” he asks with the voice of a man who is too used to dealing with mishaps and problems and keeping his own feelings on the matter very far removed, and Lan Wanyin frowns.

“Are you the Sect Leader?” he asks, because he has seen his brother make a very similar face when he’s faced with one of the junior disciple’s shenanigans.

“Technically I’m—it’s complicated,” Lan Xichen finally settles on, but when Lan Wanyin keeps his baffled expression he goes on. “I used to be,” he finally admits.

“Xichen-ge,” Wei Wuxian whispers, clearly a lot of history behind that one sentence, but Lan Wanyin is too stuck on the informal way with which Wei Wuxian refers to him.

“Where’s my brother? And how dare you refer to your elder as disrespectfully as that?” Lan Wanyin suddenly asks, filled with the desperate need to see someone familiar, to have his brother look out for him like he always does, and he doesn’t even care that his tone is very close to whining but he also has their Sect’s rules ingrained in his bones and he cannot let disrespectful behaviour like that stand without even trying to correct it.

“Lan Wangji?” Lan Xichen asks, clearly only guessing and Lan Wanyin nods frantically. “He’s out on a night hunt. It should still be a day or so before he comes back. He’s accompanying the juniors.”

“I want to see him,” Lan Wanyin says, knowing that he shouldn’t be making demands of people he doesn’t even know, but he needs to see a familiar face.

“We can’t call him back,” Wei Wuxian gently says. “We’ll have to wait until Lan Zhan returns on his own.”

Lan Wanyin freezes when he hears that name, because even he doesn’t dare to call his brother that and he can feel his temper spike again, before he takes a deep and calming breath.

“Could you please not refer to my brother like this? You have no rights to do so,” Lan Wanyin says in what he thinks is an appropriately calm voice.

“What should I call him then?” Wei Wuxian asks, a mischievous smile on his face. “Lan-er-gege?” he asks and Lan Wanyin goes hot under the collar.

“How dare you call me that?” he hisses out and watches as Wei Wuxian’s eyes go big and how Lan Xichen presses his lips together.

Lan Wanyin is not sure if it’s in an attempt to hide a smile or because to keep some words in.

“Wei Wuxian,” Lan Xichen reprimands him and Wei Wuxian does seem appropriately chastised, if only for a second.

“You’re the younger brother?” Wei Wuxian asks, clearly embarrassed for a moment and Lan Wanyin nods.

“I’m sixteen,” he answers and now both of them pale.

“Oh fuck,” Wei Wuxian answers and even though Lan Xichen doesn’t look like he would ever utter such crude words he nods with emphasis.

“Lan Wanyin, Wei Wuxian is Wangji’s husband,” Lan Xichen gently tells him and Lan Wanyin goes still.

His brother is way too young to marry but he guess that’s not the case in this world.

“How old is he?” Lan Wanyin carefully asks and Wei Wuxian shrugs.

“Over thirty. You are too, in the body you’re currently in,” he explains and Lan Wanyin needs to sit down for a moment.

This is not what he expected.

“I want to go home,” Lan Wanyin whispers, suddenly feeling small and young despite the body he is in, and he watches as Lan Xichen and Wei Wuxian share a look.

“I’ll work on reversing the spell, but I don’t know how long it will take,” Wei Wuxian finally says and Lan Wanyin deflates.

“It’s probably best if we leave him to it,” Lan Xichen chimes in, giving Lan Wanyin a reassuring smile. “How do you feel about staying with me for the time being?”

Lan Wanyin is not feeling anything about that despite the aching urge to go home, so he simply nods.

“I’m sorry about imposing,” he says with a small bow and Wei Wuxian makes a startled noise at his side.

“If anyone’s imposing, it’s us, since we dragged you here against your will,” he says and Lan Wanyin wants to snap at him that he’s damn right about that, but he only nods.

Snapping would be rude, after all.

“Wei Wuxian will get you back home,” Lan Xichen promises and Lan Wanyin pretends that he doesn’t see how Wei Wuxian winces at that.

It doesn’t spark confidence in Lan Wanyin, but then again Wei Wuxian did drag him here, so he should be capable of sending him back too.

Neither of them comment on Wei Wuxian’s slip of face though, and when Lan Xichen motions for Lan Wanyin to follow him, he does so without another word.

The trek to Lan Xichen’s home is silent, but it’s not long before Lan Wanyin recognizes the path they are taking and unease grows in his gut.

Logically it makes sense that Lan Xichen would live in the Hanshi if he is the older brother, but Lan Wangji is very protective of his space—always has been—and so Lan Wanyin hasn’t set foot into the Hanshi more than a couple of times in his life.

The thought that he’s going to live there for the time being makes him feel slightly sick and he tries to subtly reach out for the trailing ends of his forehead ribbon, but of course his hands come back empty.

“It’s not much, but I hope you can relax here a bit,” Lan Xichen says as he invites him into the Hanshi, and Lan Wanyin hesitates a moment before he follows him inside.

“This is not where you usually stay,” Lan Xichen mildly observes and Lan Wanyin shakes his head.

“My brother lives in the Hanshi,” he explains and Lan Xichen nods.

“I suppose that would make sense, if he is the older one this time,” Lan Xichen says with a shrug and then busies himself with getting some tea ready.

Lan Wanyin observes him, and he takes note of the slightly shaking hands and the way Lan Xichen avoids looking directly at him.

“I’m—I shouldn’t be here,” Lan Wanyin finally whispers, and Lan Xichen jerks with his words.

“Wei Wuxian will work very hard to get you back to your world,” he promises. “You’re occupying his brother’s body, he’s personally invested. It’s a good motivator,” Lan Xichen whispers and Lan Wanyin frowns at his tone.

“His brother,” he mutters and then walks over to the mirror in Lan Xichen’s home.

Lan Wanyin takes a long moment to simply look himself over and he’s not sure he likes what he sees. Jiang Cheng’s body is older—of course it is—but it’s also a lot broader than Lan Wanyin is used to. It seems battle hardened.

His face at least is much the same—even though it looks empty without the forehead ribbon—though of course he seems more mature.

“Jiang Cheng doesn’t usually smile like you do,” Lan Xichen suddenly says from behind him and Lan Wanyin thinks that over for a moment before he schools his expression into a frown.

“That’s more like it,” Lan Xichen says with a wistful chuckle and Lan Wanyin keeps the expression for a while longer.

Jiang Cheng is still handsome, even with a frown, but it also makes him look fierce and unapproachable and Lan Wanyin doesn’t like that at all. He quickly drops the frown, watching as his features smooth out into his much softer ones.

“Do you want a forehead ribbon?” Lan Xichen suddenly asks him and Lan Wanyin whips around.

“What?” he asks, though he can’t deny that the answer would be a very resounding yes.

“I noticed you keep reaching out for it,” Lan Xichen explains and Lan Wanyin flushes when he realizes that he must have done it unconsciously.

“I can’t take your forehead ribbon,” Lan Wanyin says, appalled at just the idea of it, but Lan Xichen shakes his head.

“I have some spare ones,” he says and walks away to retrieve one of those. “I used to look after this one rowdy kid,” Lan Xichen says with a smile when he sees Lan Wanyin’s confused look. “He needed a few new ones every day and I didn’t have the heart to throw them out once he grew up.”

“I see,” Lan Wanyin whispers and takes the offered ribbon with shaking hands.

He does quick work with tying it around his forehead and he has to admit that he does feel better once it’s tied snugly.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely to Lan Xichen and after one last look into the mirror—now much more familiar than before—he turns away from it.

“If Wei Wuxian is my brother in this world, then where is he in my world?” Lan Wanyin asks Lan Xichen, mostly to have something to talk about.

“I don’t know,” Lan Xichen answers with a shrug. “If Wangji is your brother in your world, then where am I?”

“I don’t know,” Lan Wanyin whispers. “I don’t even know Wei Wuxian.”

“You’re sixteen?” Lan Xichen wants to know and he hums when Lan Wanyin nods. “Did you participate in the classes already?”

“No,” Lan Wanyin mumbles. “They are about to start in less than two weeks. I’m going to miss them, aren’t I?” Lan Wanyin asks, and he feels strangely despondent at that thought.

He’s going to miss out on so much.

“Wei Wuxian will do his hardest to send you back. The classes last the whole summer, right? You’ll probably have some time to get to know the other students,” Lan Xichen tries to reassure him, but Lan Wanyin is not convinced.

Wei Wuxian hasn’t looked all that confident before; he’ll probably be here for longer than either of them cares about.

“Jiang Cheng,” Lan Xichen suddenly says and Lan Wanyin tenses before he realizes that Lan Xichen doesn’t mean him. “Do you think he’ll be alright in your world?”

“I think so,” Lan Wanyin says without hesitation. “My brother will look after him.”

“That’s good then,” Lan Xichen says with a small smile and then he busies himself with the tea again.

They spend the rest of the afternoon with soft conversation, comparing notes on the different worlds, but it becomes clear to Lan Wanyin pretty quickly that Lan Xichen is skirting around a lot of topics.

Lan Wanyin is honestly too scared to ask and so he allows the topics to be shallow and safe.

Night has already fallen by the time footsteps approach the Hanshi and both Lan Xichen and Lan Wanyin perk up.

There’s a polite knock on the door before it slides open and Lan Wanyin has to fight the rush of relief to see his brother.

“Xiongzhan,” Lan Wangji greets, and the word sounds exceedingly strange on Lan Wangji’s lips.

Lan Wanyin doesn’t even have time to process the fact that Lan Wangji is looking at Lan Xichen instead of himself, when he’s already bowing.

“Xiongzhan,” he says, too, and then he shrinks back when Lan Wangji gives him a bone-chilling glare.

“Wangji, this is Lan Wanyin,” Lan Xichen explains but Lan Wangji’s look only gets darker at that.

“If you have to marry anyone, why does it have to be him?” Lan Wangji asks and Lan Wanyin reels back as if he has been hit.

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen snaps, stepping closer to Lan Wanyin. “Do not forget your manners. This is Lan Wanyin from another world. One of your husband’s experiments went very wrong, and you would do well to be polite to our guest. To any guest.”

Lan Wangji doesn’t lose his hostile look, but he at least bows to Lan Wanyin, even if he doesn’t apologize.

“I’ll be checking on my husband then,” Lan Wangji says, immediately leaving the Hanshi and Lan Wanyin can do nothing but stare after him.

This is not how he imagined meeting his brother would go over and he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself now.

“I am so sorry,” Lan Xichen says. “There’s some history between Jiang Cheng and Wangji.” Lan Xichen winces at his own words and then goes on. “It’s still no excuse. He should at least remember his manners.”

Lan Wanyin can’t even nod at that, because he is still too shocked. He has never heard his brother sound that cold, not even when dealing with people he doesn’t like. To have it directed at himself is certainly an experience Lan Wanyin could have done without.

“I think I would like to sleep now,” Lan Wanyin eventually whispers and Lan Xichen’s face falls.

“Should I send for some dinner first?” he asks, already half up, but Lan Wanyin shakes his head.

“I just want to sleep,” he mumbles and Lan Xichen sighs.

“Alright,” he thankfully agrees and setting up a second bed is short work, so soon enough Lan Wanyin is laying down.

He doesn’t fight the urge to pull the blanket over his head and he also can’t help the few tears that escape, but he’s proud that he doesn’t outright sob, even though he absolutely feels like it.

He tries to convince himself that tomorrow will be better and that he will be back home soon, and Lan Wanyin falls asleep clinging to that hope.

~*~*~

Breakfast is a quiet affair. Lan Wanyin understands that it’s not quite acceptable for him to go to the communal breakfast, even though he would like that. But outsiders are not allowed and for all that Lan Wanyin is very much a Lan, Jiang Cheng—whose body he’s currently inhabiting—is most definitely not and so Lan Wanyin can’t go there.

Lan Xichen stays with him though and breakfast passes quickly like that.

Lan Wanyin is still thinking about his meeting with Lan Wangji—more like fretting over it—when they hear another set of footsteps approaching the Hanshi.

“Oh no,” Lan Xichen whispers, before he gets up, clearly recognizing the steps, but before he can reach the door someone knocks on it. Very insistently and loudly.

“Lan Xichen!” that person yells and Lan Xichen is quick to slide the door open, but he tries his best to block the person from looking inside.

“How dare you?” the person hisses and Lan Wanyin sees Lan Xichen wince.

“Jin Ling—” he starts, but Jin Ling doesn’t let him talk.

“You call my jiujiu away on urgent business and now you refuse to let him leave again? How dare you? Let me see him at once!” he demands and Lan Wanyin gets up, because he figures it’s kind of inevitable that he’ll have to introduce himself.

“Listen, Jin Ling, there’s been an accident,” Lan Xichen starts and Lan Wanyin thinks this might not be the best way to break the news to Jin Ling about his uncle.

“If he got hurt on your watch I will make you regret it,” Jin Ling says, and Lan Wanyin is surprised at the confidence with which he says it.

Lan Xichen shakes his head, but before he can figure out how to explain this to Jin Ling, he pushes his way into the Hanshi.

“Jiujiu!” Jin Ling calls out but when his gaze falls on Lan Wanyin he freezes.

“If you married Lan Xichen without telling me I will never speak to you again,” he then says, voice deceptively calm and Lan Wanyin rushes to clear the situation up.

“We didn’t marry,” he says and he’s proud that he only flushes a little bit.

A side-glance at Lan Xichen reveals that he’s doing much worse, because his face is bright red.

“Then what the hell is going on?” Jin Ling demands to know.

“Language,” Lan Wanyin says out of reflex and he is surprised at the pained look on Lan Xichen’s face at that.

“I’ll watch my language if you explain to me what you’re doing here, in Lan Xichen’s personal quarters, with what seems to be his forehead ribbon.”

“It’s a spare one,” Lan Xichen chimes in. “And he’s not actually Jiang Cheng,” he then belatedly says and Lan Wanyin thinks that maybe he should have led with that.

“What do you mean? It’s clearly my jiujiu,” Jin Ling says, already puffing himself up as if he’s gearing up for a fight.

“My name is Lan Wanyin. I’m from another world,” he rushes to explain but the frown on Jin Ling’s face only gets more pronounced.

“That doesn’t make sense,” he decides then and crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“One of Wei Wuxian’s experiments went wrong,” Lan Xichen says and it seems like that makes much more sense to Jin Ling because his face falls.

“What?” he whispers and now Lan Wanyin can finally see that he’s just a teenager.

“I’m really sorry,” Lan Wanyin says but Jin Ling shakes his head.

“I want my jiujiu back,” he says and Lan Wanyin can understand that feeling—he wants his brother back, too—but there’s not much he can do about that right now.

“I wish I could just swap us back,” Lan Wanyin says. “But we have to wait until Wei Wuxian figures out how to switch us back.”

“How is my jiujiu? Is he alright?” Jin Ling wants to know, but it’s again something Lan Wanyin can’t tell him for sure.

“He should be. I was at home when it happened, so he should have woken up safe and sound. And there’s not much that can happen to him in the Cloud Recesses.”

“Does he have someone to look out for him?” Jin Ling asks, and his voice is small.

“Of course he does,” Lan Wanyin tells him, frowning when he sees Lan Xichen shaking his head at him. “My brother will make sure that he’s alright.”

“Your brother? Lan Xichen?”

“No. Lan Wangji,” Lan Wanyin says, smiling slightly when he remembers just how protective his brother can be and so he nearly misses the way Jin Ling’s face falls again.

“What?” he hisses and then whirls around to Lan Xichen. “He’s alone with him?”

“As far as I understand it, there is no Jiang Cheng in his world. Wangji has no reason to hold a grudge against him.”

“But you don’t know it,” Jin Ling bitterly says and then turns back around to Lan Wanyin.

“How can you be this calm? My jiujiu is missing and you’re not even doing anything” he asks them, but Lan Wanyin shrugs.

“There’s nothing much we can do,” he says, even though he wishes it were different too. “We just have to wait for Wei Wuxian to reverse the spell.”

“And you’re just okay with that?” Jin Ling asks, now turned towards Lan Xichen again.

“Like he says, there’s not much we can do,” Lan Xichen apologetically says but it seems to have been the wrong thing, because Jin Ling huffs.

“I hate you,” he hisses. “I hate you both and I want you gone,” he then adds towards Lan Wanyin and promptly storms out of the Hanshi.

His words sting, even though Lan Wanyin understands that his emotions are most likely running rampant right now.

“He doesn’t mean it,” Lan Xichen tells him after a long moment of silence. “He just loves Jiang Cheng more than anyone else in this world and he’s clearly not doing well with his absence.”

“I see,” Lan Wanyin whispers and he gets it.

He isn’t doing well without Lan Wangji either, but at least his manners prevent him from breaking down or lashing out like Jin Ling just did.

“He’ll probably be back soon to apologize,” Lan Xichen prophesises but Lan Wanyin doubts it. “His parents died and Jiang Cheng raised him. I know he taught him more manners than this, but Jin Ling is a very emotional boy.”

“You seem to know them very well,” Lan Wanyin says with a small frown and watches as Lan Xichen’s cheeks go slightly red.

“We are—were fellow Sect Leaders. It’s only natural that we got to know each other.”

Lan Wanyin doesn’t want to ask about his correction there, though he can’t deny that he is curious what could have possibly made Lan Xichen step down from that position. But Lan Wanyin is too polite to ask about something that so very clearly still brings pain to Lan Xichen, and so they fall into silence again.

It’s not uncomfortable—at least not entirely—but Lan Wanyin finds himself fiddling with the ring around his finger more than he probably should.

He didn’t yet have a chance to look at it clearly, but he figures there’s nothing else to do for now, and so he raises his hand closer to his face, so he can take a better look.

The motion gets Lan Xichen’s attention immediately of course, but he stays silent for now.

Lan Wanyin inspects the ring with the utmost care, and he realizes soon enough that it’s a spiritual tool, but he’s not sure how to use it or if he even wants to.

“It turns into a whip,” Lan Xichen eventually chimes in and Lan Wanyin startles slightly, he was that engrossed in the intricate details on the ring. “It’s the Yu family heirloom. Jiang Cheng got it from his mother. It’s called Zidian.”

“What form does the whip take?”

“Purple lightning.” Lan Xichen hesitates briefly. “Would you like to try it out?”

“I—" Lan Wanyin starts, but then he doesn’t know how to finish that.

It’s likely that he will have more than enough time on his hands here, since he doesn’t have his usual classes or chores to attend to, but right now Lan Wanyin doesn’t feel like doing anything.

“I would like to meditate,” he finally says, allowing himself one day off in all this madness.

Lan Xichen doesn’t seem like he minds that much, because he very earnestly offers to accompany him to the cold springs, and Lan Wanyin would love to tell him no, but he knows that he’s in the body of an outsider, so seeing him at the cold springs without proper supervision would probably upset other Sect members.

There is nothing for Lan Wanyin to do but to agree.

It’s not so bad, in the end, because Lan Xichen has a very reserved nature it seems—not unlike Lan Wanyin’s own—and meditating next to him is easy.

Easy enough that the day goes by quickly and before Lan Wanyin knows it, he’s back in the Hanshi, with only Lan Xichen as his company during dinner.

Lan Wanyin finds himself wishing that he could see more of his brother, but then he remembers the tense atmosphere and Lan Wangji’s cold stare and Lan Wanyin figures it’s better that Lan Wangji doesn’t come around more often.

He kind of wonders over Wei Wuxian’s absence—since he’s apparently inhabiting Wei Wuxian’s brother’s body—but when Lan Wanyin brings it up to Lan Xichen he simply shrugs.

“Wei Wuxian is most likely doing his level best to send you back,” he explains and Lan Wanyin can’t quite hide the bitter twist of his mouth.

It has nothing to do with returning him to where he came from; it has everything to do with getting Jiang Cheng back.

“He would do the same for you if Jiang Cheng was still here,” Lan Xichen says, clearly reading the thought right off Lan Wanyin’s face and not for the first time does Lan Wanyin wonder if he is just that easy to read or if Lan Xichen is that familiar with Jiang Cheng.

“He made a mistake and he’s rushing to fix it. Not to mention that it’s probably driving him insane that he can’t figure out why his original spell went so wrong,” Lan Xichen says but the exasperation in his voice tells Lan Wanyin that this isn’t the first instance of Wei Wuxian going mad over something he caused himself.

Lan Wanyin wonders how Wei Wuxian can possibly fit into the Lan Sect, but if he and Lan Wangji are married, then at least Lan Xichen must have approved of it.

That thought spirals into imagining if Lan Wanyin’s own brother would approve of him marrying someone like Wei Wuxian—not that Lan Wanyin can imagine himself doing so—and he gets hit with a wave of homesickness.

It ruins his appetite rather thoroughly.

“I’m tired,” Lan Wanyin says as he puts his bowl down, trying not to notice Lan Xichen’s worried gaze on him.

Lan Wanyin doesn’t wait for a dismissal, and simply gets up to retire to bed. He hears Lan Xichen rummage around, but the noises are quiet and unobtrusive and Lan Wanyin quickly drifts off, even plagued by worries as he is.

~*~*~

The days don’t pass quickly enough for Lan Wanyin’s taste and soon enough he feels trapped inside the Hanshi. He’s not used to being so idle; in his world he has duties to fulfil and classes to attend but here there is nothing for him to do but sit and wait, and he has never been good at either of those things.

“I think I want to practice with Zidian,” Lan Wanyin says apropos of nothing one morning and Lan Xichen doesn’t seem as startled by that as Lan Wanyin expected him to be.

“Of course,” he quickly agrees and Lan Wanyin narrows his eyes at him, watching as Lan Xichen smiles slightly.

“You’re not as different to Jiang Cheng as you might think,” he says with a shrug. “Both of you don’t deal well with just sitting around; I was just waiting for you to get bored enough to say something.”

Lan Wanyin blinks at that.

“I had duties in my world,” is what he finally says.

“And I’m sorry you can’t carry them out here. You can help me with some of the paperwork later, if you want. It’s nothing important, but it would give you something to do.”

Lan Wanyin doesn’t comment on the nothing important part, but he can’t deny that he’s curious. Lan Wanyin is absolutely sure that Lan Xichen used to be Sect Leader and to hear that his paperwork is nothing serious just feels wrong. Even if he no longer is Sect Leader, if he stepped down for whatever reasons, people should still seek him out for his expertise and knowledge.

Lan Wanyin is on the cusp of asking, when Lan Xichen abruptly turns away from him, walking out of the Hanshi and clearly expecting Lan Wanyin to follow him.

Lan Wanyin swallows his questions down and trails after Lan Xichen to the training grounds.

“Do you have a spiritual tool?” Lan Xichen asks him and Lan Wanyin nods.

“I play the xiao,” he says and Lan Xichen looks startled.

“You—of course you do,” he finally says and Lan Wanyin frowns at him until he explains. “I do, too. It truly does seem like you have my place in your world. Maybe I do have your place, then, in Yunmeng Jiang,” he muses and Lan Wanyin promises himself to find out about Lan Xichen’s whereabouts, once he’s back in his own world.

“How does this help me with Zidian?” Lan Wanyin wants to know, and shakes himself out of these useless thoughts.

He can do nothing as long as he’s here, in this world, so there’s no point in making plans for now.

“If you already know how to use a spiritual tool, channelling energy into Zidian will be easier,” Lan Xichen explains and Lan Wanyin flushes, because he should have realized that himself.

Lan Wanyin takes a deep breath and pushes his embarrassment far away, because it’s never helpful while practicing and instead he concentrates on channelling energy into Zidian, just like he usually would with his xiao.

It doesn’t take long at all for Zidian to spark purple and then suddenly it’s no longer a ring, but a whip in Lan Wanyin’s hand.

“Very good,” Lan Xichen says with a smile and then steps away from Lan Wanyin, clearly giving him space. “Try it out,” he encourages him and Lan Wanyin does just that.

Controlling the whip is much harder than he imagined it to be, though. He can feel some confused resistance from Zidian, and Lan Wanyin is surprised to find that the tool notices that he’s not its usual master.

Jiang Cheng really has quite the priceless weapon at his disposal.

During the course of the next hour Lan Wanyin whips himself on accident more often than he really cares to admit, but it only plays into his stubborn streak; he is going to master this tool, and if he comes out of it bloody, then so be it.

“I think you need to arch it further over your head,” Lan Xichen suddenly says from the side and Lan Wanyin startles so badly he nearly whips himself in the face.

He completely forgot that Lan Xichen was there.

“Sorry,” Lan Xichen says with a grimace.

“How would you know how to use Zidian?” Lan Wanyin asks him, frustrated by his lack of progress so far, so his voice comes out more biting than it should. He takes a deep breath to calm himself before he goes on. “Have you used it before?”

“No,” Lan Xichen rushes out, blushing at the suggestion. “But Wanyin and I fought in the same war; we have been on some night-hunts together as well. It’s hard to miss how he uses Zidian,” Lan Xichen explains and Lan Wanyin frowns at him.

He still tries to do what Lan Xichen told him to and to his surprise it works out quite well. Lan Wanyin is aware that his posture is not perfect, but he’s getting there and he thinks with a bit more practice he could master Zidian, especially now that it seems to have accepted him.

Lan Xichen continues to give him a few more valuable tips and while Lan Wanyin does try each and every single one of them out, he can’t help the nagging thought in his head when Lan Xichen keeps talking.

“You’re in love with him,” Lan Wanyin says out of the blue after yet another successful manoeuvre and Lan Xichen freezes on the spot.

“You are,” Lan Wanyin says, taking Lan Xichen’s reaction as confirmation and then he watches as Lan Xichen goes red, before all colour drains from his face.

“I am not,” he tries to deny, but it’s a little bit too late for that. “Why would you think that?”

“You don’t learn these kind of tricks by picking up on a few things during night-hunts,” Lan Wanyin says, calling Zidian back and returning it to its ring form. “To notice the things you notice you’d have to watch him pretty closely.”

Lan Xichen opens his mouth as if to argue, but he can’t seem to find his words and so in the end he simply closes his mouth again.

“Have you ever told him?” Lan Wanyin wants to know and is surprised by the bitter laugh Lan Xichen lets out.

“Of course not,” he whispers and then looks away from Lan Wanyin. “I’ve been in love with him for so long, but I never dared to say anything. And now it’s just—” he trails off with a shrug and Lan Wanyin wonders just what the hell happened for Lan Xichen to think like that but before he can ask anything else, Jin Ling approaches them.

“You can wield Zidian,” he says, and it sounds so accusatory that Lan Wanyin flinches.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes and has half a mind just offering the tool to Jin Ling for safekeeping when Jin Ling lets out a rough breath.

“I’m here to apologize,” he says, not looking at Lan Wanyin directly, but he seems very determined.

“There’s no need for that,” Lan Wanyin says, because he can understand why Jin Ling freaked out when he realized that it wasn’t his jiujiu he was talking to.

“There is. It’s not your fault you’re here and I don’t hate you. I’m sorry I said it,” Jin Ling says, clearly uncomfortable with the apology, but he’s still doing it and Lan Wanyin thinks that Jiang Cheng really did a great job, raising him.

“It’s alright. Thank you,” Lan Wanyin says and once that is out, Jin Ling looks at him.

“I just miss my jiujiu,” he says, voice small, and Lan Wanyin notices yet again that Jin Ling barely looks older than Lan Wanyin is.

“I miss my xiongzhan too,” Lan Wanyin admits and Jin Ling nods.

“I’m sorry I can’t be around too much, but I have a Sect to lead, too,” Jin Ling says, and Lan Wanyin aches for him because no one that young should ever have to shoulder that kind of responsibility.

Lan Wanyin knows he couldn’t.

“It’s alright,” he says, because he guesses it’s only partly that, and mostly the fact that Jin Ling can’t bear to look at him and know that it’s not actually Jiang Cheng, and he’s not holding it against him.

Jin Ling nods brusquely at that, and then turns to Lan Xichen.

“I expect a proper courtship afterwards and you damn well better ask me for permission,” he hisses at Lan Xichen and then he simply stalks off again.

“Everyone seems to know you’re in love with Jiang Cheng,” Lan Wanyin mildly observes, thinking back to what Lan Wangji had said too and he watches as Lan Xichen blushes slightly again.

“It doesn’t matter. Jiang Cheng doesn’t know and he doesn’t feel the same way, and there’s no chance that will change now,” he gives back and he sounds more composed than Lan Wanyin expected him to.

“How would you know if you never confessed?”

“You’re not wrong. I have watched him a great deal. So trust me when I say that he doesn’t. Jiang Cheng is never subtle with his feelings and especially not when he loves.”

“Is he in love with someone else?”

“I don’t think so,” Lan Xichen admits.

“Then there’s hope for you,” Lan Wanyin shrugs, even though he can’t be sure of that at all.

He doesn’t know Jiang Cheng after all, but if he came here on Lan Xichen’s request—in a rush nonetheless, too, if he didn’t properly explain things to Jin Ling—then he must at least treasure their friendship.

“Thank you for saying that,” Lan Xichen whispers though he doesn’t sound convinced at all and Lan Wanyin turns away from him.

He doesn’t feel like practicing with Zidian anymore and the encounter with Jin Ling just reminded him who he is missing as well.

“I wonder how xiongzhang and shufu are doing,” Lan Wanyin mutters and startles when Lan Xichen puts a hand to his shoulder.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to go see Wangji, but we can go visit shufu,” Lan Xichen says and Lan Wanyin turns towards him, his eyes wide.

He hadn’t dare to ask after Lan Qiren, too scared that he wouldn’t like the answer, and since no one had brought him up either, Lan Wanyin had half convinced himself that Lan Qiren didn’t exist in this world at best or was dead at worst.

He never dared to contemplate this.

“Can we?” he asks and Lan Xichen nods with a smile.

“Of course,” he agrees and then leads Lan Wanyin away from the training grounds.

Lan Xichen doesn’t act like Lan Wanyin has to pretend with Lan Qiren, so Lan Wanyin guesses he must have been told about what happened.

His suspicions are confirmed when Lan Qiren greets them.

“Xichen, Lan Wanyin,” he says with a nod and they both bow to him.

“Shufu,” they say in unison and despite the tight feeling in his chest Lan Wanyin has to hide a smile.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Lan Xichen says and promptly leaves Lan Wanyin alone with Lan Qiren who motions for him to sit.

“How are you doing?” Lan Qiren asks him and Lan Wanyin has to fight against the tears.

His uncle is exactly the same here in this world and Lan Wanyin feels so homesick, it threatens to overwhelm him.

“Good,” he somehow gets out, even though his voice is all choked up.

“I see you got a forehead ribbon,” Lan Qiren says, and while he doesn’t say it with any form of judgement Lan Wanyin rushes to explain.

“It’s not Lan Xichen’s! It’s a spare one! Nothing inappropriate happened.”

“A shame,” Lan Qiren mutters. “And here I thought the only nephew with taste would also finally be man enough to do something about it.”

Lan Wanyin presses his lips together, because apparently really everyone knows about Lan Xichen’s feelings for Jiang Cheng but when he sees the twinkle in Lan Qiren’s eyes he allows himself to smile.

“Maybe they will figure it out eventually,” he says and Lan Qiren sighs.

“Maybe,” he agrees, though it seems like he long ago gave up hope for that.

“Do you like Jiang Cheng? Would you approve of him?” Lan Wanyin asks, even though the answer seems pretty clear.

“Yes,” Lan Qiren easily admits and he doesn’t explain anything, so he really must hold Jiang Cheng in very high regards if he thinks it should be that obvious.

“He will come back to you all, soon,” Lan Wanyin whispers, hoping that he is missed in his own world just as dearly as Jiang Cheng is being missed here.

“He no doubt will,” Lan Qiren agrees but then he reaches out and cups Lan Wanyin’s cheek in his hand, stunning Lan Wanyin into stillness.

“But until then we’re all very happy to have you,” Lan Qiren says and Lan Wanyin swallows against his emotions. “Now,” Lan Qiren says and clears his throat. “How do you feel about a lesson?”

“I feel very good about that, shufu,” Lan Wanyin admits and when Lan Qiren falls right into explaining something Lan Wanyin feels settled.

It feels a lot more like home this way.

~*~*~

Lan Wanyin continues to spend his days training with Zidian before he goes to Lan Qiren for a lesson. Like this it doesn’t feel like he’s missing out on so much back in his own world, and the Lan Qiren of this world is just like the Lan Qiren of Lan Wanyin’s world.

Strict, but loving and Lan Wanyin wonders if he ever thought to appreciate that before.

He doesn’t see much of Lan Xichen for a few days, because he leaves Lan Wanyin to his own devices more often than not, but when he returns to the Hanshi in the evenings Lan Xichen seems troubled and stressed but he won’t talk about it, no matter how often Lan Wanyin asks.

Jin Ling seems to be staying in the Cloud Recesses, too, because he sees flashes of his golden robes more than once, but Lan Wanyin is in no rush to bother him again.

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian continue to be evasive, but it’s not like Lan Wanyin saw much of them before so their absence doesn’t seem all that strange.

Until he walks back into the Hanshi, almost three weeks into his stay in this world, and everyone is there waiting for him.

So this must be what had Lan Xichen so stressed over the past few days, Lan Wanyin thinks as he settles down at the table, expectantly waiting for someone to say something.

“So,” Wei Wuxian starts, nervously fiddling with Lan Wangji’s fingers. “Here’s the thing. We decided to tell you a few things, since it seems like they might still happen in your world and we don’t actually want you to have to go through them,” he says and Lan Wanyin frowns.

“Does this have to do with all the topics you keep glossing over? Like why Lan Xichen is no longer Sect Leader and the history between Wangji and Jiang Cheng?” he asks and everyone nods at him.

So this is not going to be fun then, Lan Wanyin thinks and he is right.

It’s a nightmare, if he’s being honest, and his mind is reeling when everyone finally falls silent again.

“We’re sorry about simply dropping this on you, but we think it’s better if you know these things,” Wei Wuxian says with a wince and Lan Wanyin cannot believe that he was dead for sixteen years.

“I—” Lan Wanyin starts, but he doesn’t actually know what to say to any of that and so he falls silent again.

He compares the things they talked about to the political landscape of his own world, and he realizes that they are probably steering towards the same war. The Wens are trying to reach for power; Sect Leader Nie’s father already died and no one believed Nie Mingjue when he said that Wen Ruohan had a hand in that.

There will be a lot to do for him, once he gets back to his own world, Lan Wanyin realizes and he grows cold with horror at the thought that maybe he cannot prevent any of it.

“I need to talk to him alone,” Jin Ling suddenly says and glares at Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, before his gaze goes a little bit warmer when he looks at Lan Xichen. “Would you allow us to talk here, for a moment?” Jin Ling asks, suddenly all polite, and Lan Xichen is quick to nod.

“Of course,” he says, as he gets up, doing his hardest not to meet Lan Wanyin’s eyes but before Lan Wanyin can say anything he, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian have left the Hanshi.

Jin Ling walks after them, making sure they really leave, before he puts up a silencing ward on the Hanshi.

“What else?” Lan Wanyin asks, rubbing his head, because this cannot be good.

If Jin Ling send everyone else away, this cannot be good at all and Lan Wanyin is not sure if he wants to hear it. His mind is already reeling and he still feels faintly sick from all the things he just heard, but Jin Ling fixes him with a hard glare.

“Jiujiu did not go back to Lotus Pier to retrieve his parent’s bodies,” he starts with, simply diving right in as it seems and Lan Wanyin frowns.

“But that’s what Wei Wuxian said.”

“Because he doesn’t know better. He thinks that’s what happened. But it’s not true. My jiujiu got captured because the Wen soldiers were about to capture Wei Wuxian and jiujiu distracted them,” Jin Ling says and Lan Wanyin is glad he’s already sitting down.

Jiang Cheng sacrificed himself to keep Wei Wuxian safe, only to have it all ruined when Wei Wuxian gave him his core.

“They don’t know?” he asks, even though the answer is obvious.

“No. Jiujiu never wants Wei Wuxian to know that and so you’re not going to tell him either.” There’s an underlying threat in his voice and Lan Wanyin is quick to nod.

“Of course not,” he agrees. “But why are you telling me this?”

“Because I don’t want the same to happen again,” Jin Ling says. “I don’t know about your relationship with your brother and I don’t know if there’s a Wei Wuxian in your world and if he has a brother, but maybe you should keep an eye out. They seem to think things are going to be the same in your world, and this is something you need to know as well.”

Lan Wanyin nods, his mind still spinning, and this new information does nothing to calm him down at all.

“Did he know he would lose his core?” Lan Wanyin asks and he watches in horror as pain flashes over Jin Ling’s face.

“He expected to lose his life,” he whispers and Lan Wanyin can’t even imagine how much Jiang Cheng must love Wei Wuxian to do something like that, expecting it to cost his life.

“I see,” Lan Wanyin whispers and wonders if he would be strong enough to do the same for Lan Wangji.

He hopes the answer is yes, but he also hopes he never has to find out.

“Thank you for telling me,” Lan Wanyin mutters and Jin Ling nods, before he destroys the talisman.

“I’ll get going then,” Jin Ling says, suddenly back to his awkward teenager self and Lan Wanyin musters up a smile for him.

“Have a safe trip,” he says, praying to all the gods he knows that the next time Jin Ling will see his jiujiu again.

“You too,” Jin Ling says, clearly not doubting for a second that Wei Wuxian will figure out how to send Lan Wanyin back and then he’s out of the door.

It’s not long before Lan Xichen comes back, but he’s still avoiding Lan Wanyin’s gaze and Lan Wanyin frowns.

“What is wrong?” he wants to know and watches as Lan Xichen flinches even as he plasters a smile to his face.

“You can request to be housed somewhere else until Wei Wuxian figures out how to send you back,” Lan Xichen says, his voice stiff and formal and Lan Wanyin’s frown only deepens.

“Why would I do that?” he demands to know and Lan Xichen shrugs.

“You heard what happened. I gave A—him the tool to murder my sworn brother and I never noticed a thing,” Lan Xichen says and Lan Wanyin pretends he doesn’t hear how his voice breaks over the almost uttered name.

“As did no one else,” Lan Wanyin hotly gives back. “So everyone else is at fault, too. And besides. He was your sworn brother, too, was he not? You should have been able to trust him.”

“I should have noticed,” Lan Xichen insists again, but Lan Wanyin shakes his head.

“He shouldn’t have done it,” he counters, but now it finally all comes together.

If Lan Xichen thinks he is guilty—an accomplice, almost—then of course he would step down as Sect Leader. Of course he would think Jiang Cheng could never fall in love with him.

“You said Jiang Cheng and I are quite similar, right?” he demands to know and Lan Xichen jerks his head in a nod.

“Then he must feel the same about this. It’s not your fault. You were all deceived. I doubt he thinks of you like you seem to fear.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Lan Xichen says and it rankles Lan Wanyin to be spoken to like that. “It’s more personal for him. He lost so much because of what happened, because of what I allowed to happen.”

“Everyone allowed that to happen. Everyone who didn’t say a thing and simply followed. Do you think he’s angry at the whole world?” Lan Wanyin wants to know and he is almost relieved to see a small smile on Lan Xichen’s face.

“He’s angry a lot,” he whispers but then he grows serious again. “Our relationship changed quite a bit once the truth came out.”

“Could that maybe be because you went into seclusion and withdrew?” Lan Wanyin wants to know and Lan Xichen looks startled by that suggestion.

“I don’t—” he starts but Lan Wanyin shakes his head.

“He came here when you wrote him, right? Didn’t he visit you before, too? I certainly wouldn’t do that with someone I hold responsible for a crime of any kind,” Lan Wanyin says, because he does feel pretty confident about that.

Lan Xichen swallows heavily before he nods once.

“Thank you for saying that. I will give it some thought,” he whispers and while it’s not exactly what Lan Wanyin wants to hear, it’s better than nothing.

Small steps.

~*~*~

Lan Xichen and Lan Wanyin have just settled down for a relaxing breakfast when Wei Wuxian barges into the Hanshi without properly announcing himself.

“Wei Wuxian,” Lan Xichen says, not as biting as Lan Wanyin would have expected, but then again Wei Wuxian seems too excited to properly remember his manners.

“I figured it out!” Wei Wuxian yells, disregarding yet another one of their rules and with every time that happens Lan Wanyin understands the pinched lines on Lan Qiren’s face more and more.

“You figured out what?” Lan Xichen asks, clearly practiced in wheedling out the necessary explanations of an excited Wei Wuxian.

“How to send you back, of course,” Wei Wuxian says with a maniac grin as he looks at Lan Wanyin. “Come, come, we gotta get started right now,” he rushes out and darts forward to take Lan Wanyin’s hand and drag him out of the Hanshi.

“Xichen-ge, you better wait here for now,” Wei Wuxian calls back when it becomes clear that Lan Xichen intents to follow them and when Lan Wanyin looks over his shoulder he sees the lost look on Lan Xichen’s face.

“Don’t worry,” he calls back, trying to sound more confident than he really feels, but Wei Wuxian’s manic energy doesn’t inspire trust at all.

Lan Xichen nods at him and doesn’t make a move to come after them and Lan Wanyin finds himself wishing that he could have said a proper goodbye to him.

Provided that whatever Wei Wuxian figured out actually works.

“Are you sure about this?” Lan Wanyin asks as he’s being dragged after Wei Wuxian, who nods so frantically that his hair goes flying.

“Of course I am! I never make mistakes,” he cries out and Lan Wanyin raises a very judging eyebrow at him. “Okay, maybe I do make mistakes, sometimes, rarely, but I promise you this will work out just fine. Don’t worry.”

Lan Wanyin of course still worries—how could he ever do anything else—but he also follows Wei Wuxian more freely.

He’s not surprised to be brought back to the Jingshi, but he is surprised to see that Lan Wangji is obviously missing.

“Can’t have any other qi mess up my careful planning,” Wei Wuxian cheerfully explains when he sees Lan Wanyin’s searching look and then he simply pushes him into the centre of the room.

There are papers strewn all over the Jingshi and Lan Wanyin’s fingers twitch with the need to tidy up in here, but then Wei Wuxian whirls around to him.

“Now, channel your energy into Zidian,” he demands just as some dark mist starts to swirl around Wei Wuxian.

Lan Wanyin has never seen demonic cultivation in person and it takes him a moment to shake off his instinctual horror but then he does as Wei Wuxian asked of him.

When Wei Wuxian’s and his energy come together the papers around him start to glow and Wei Wuxian lets out an excited yell.

“Yessss,” he hisses and then gently guides Lan Wanyin to lay down. “Tell your Lan Zhan hi from me,” Wei Wuxian says with a wink and it’s the last thing Lan Wanyin sees and hears before everything goes dark.

~*~*~

“You know the rest,” Lan Wanyin says, and sinks deeper into Jiang Xichen’s embrace, content to feel his heartbeat through his back, as he tightens Jiang Xichen’s arms around his middle.

Lan Wanyin can’t help but to appreciate his own forehead ribbon wrapped around Jiang Xichen’s forearm, but when he reaches out, Lan Wanyin fingers stray towards Zidian.

“That’s why we did so well in the war,” Jiang Xichen mutters and presses a kiss to Lan Wanyin’s head. “Because you knew what was going to happen.”

“Enough things were different that we still struggled,” Lan Wanyin says, feeling yet again like he failed everyone who died in the war.

He always gets upset over that, and his fiddling with Zidian gets stronger.

“Can you still wield it?” Jiang Xichen asks and swiftly slides the ring off his finger, before he puts it on Lan Wanyin’s.

“Xichen!” Lan Wanyin yells out in surprise, because it’s a family heirloom, and he really shouldn’t be holding it.

“Don’t you know that you can use it?” Jiang Xichen mutters in his ear and when Lan Wanyin tries to direct some energy into the ring, it promptly responds to him.

“Xichen,” he says, much more softly this time and Jiang Xichen noses at his cheek.

“What belongs to me also belongs to you,” he whispers and presses a kiss to the corner of Lan Wanyin’s mouth. “You should know that.”

“You should know that as well,” Lan Wanyin says and puts his hand over his forehead ribbon on Jiang Xichen’s arm.

“Oh, believe me, I do,” Jiang Xichen suggestively says and Lan Wanyin lightly slaps his arms, even as Jiang Xichen pulls him closer.

“But you know, I’m actually kind of upset now,” Jiang Xichen finally says after a while and drags Lan Wanyin out of his comfortable doze the soft murmuring of the lake lulled him in to.

“About what?” he whispers and turns his head so he can kiss the underside of Jiang Xichen’s chin.

“It’s clearly not me who caught your eye. You didn’t even know me. But from the way you talked about him it seems like Lan Xichen caught your eye.”

“Well, just like Jiang Cheng caught yours, right?” Lan Wanyin says and untangles himself from Jiang Xichen, just so that he can turn around and straddle his lap instead of sitting with his back to him.

“But it was me who managed to keep your eye, remember?” Lan Wanyin whispers into the space between them and he cannot believe how lucky he is when Jiang Xichen looks up at him with nothing but love on his face.

“Yes,” he whispers but when he strains up to get a kiss from Lan Wanyin he slightly leans back, just enough to stay out of reach.

“And you are the one who managed to keep my eye,” he tells Jiang Xichen and only when he sees the possessive happiness on his face does Lan Wanyin lean down and meet him in a kiss.

They get lost in it for a while, and when they finally part, Lan Wanyin moves around so he sits sideways on Jiang Xichen’s lap and can tuck his face into his neck more comfortably.

“I just hope that Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng figured it out on their end as well.”

“Well, Jiang Cheng seemed pretty flustered with me. I’d say chances for them are good,” Jiang Xichen says with a small laugh and Lan Wanyin hopes he is right.

Lan Xichen deserves to be just as happy as Lan Wanyin is right now.

~*~*~

Lan Xichen stares out over the water, thoroughly enjoying the silence at his favourite pier, even though the cold is slowly creeping in.

It’s been years since he came to call Lotus Pier his home, but there are days where he can barely believe that he got this lucky at all.

That Jiang Cheng came to love him back, even though Lan Xichen doesn’t deserve it. And he’s pretty sure that Jiang Cheng’s stay in the other world has something to do with it, even though Jiang Cheng never really told him exactly what happened there, always blushing furiously before changing the subject.

Lan Xichen wonders if they would be here like this, today, if that experiment hadn’t gone wrong and then he wonders if Lan Wanyin also managed to get this lucky in his own world.

He definitely deserves it.

“My light, what are you doing?” Jiang Cheng suddenly asks from behind him and Lan Xichen cranes his neck to look up at him. “It’s too cold still for you to sit like this,” he berates Lan Xichen, but Lan Xichen can see the blanket in his hands and he knows that Jiang Cheng is simply worried.

“Maybe you should keep me warm then,” he gives back and he feels entirely too indulged when Jiang Cheng immediately settles down behind him, putting the blanket over his front and pulling him into his chest.

“You’re going to get sick like this,” Jiang Cheng grumbles but he presses a kiss to Lan Xichen’s hair as he says it. “What are you doing here, though?”

“I was wondering about Lan Wanyin,” Lan Xichen admits and snuggles into his husband’s chest. “Do you think things on his end turned out okay?”

“You told him what to look out for, right?” Jiang Cheng asks and strokes his hand up and down Lan Xichen’s stomach in a soothing motion. “And I doubt he was stupid enough to disregard everything you said to him. It should be fine.”

Lan Xichen hums at that, because he hopes Jiang Cheng is right.

“Do you think he got as lucky in love as we did?” Lan Xichen asks after a while and he doesn’t even have to look at Jiang Cheng to know that he’s blushing again.

“No one is as lucky as we are,” Jiang Cheng says but then he sighs. “I would think so,” he then finally admits. “I might have been a bit careless with his forehead ribbon,” Jiang Cheng finally admits and it’s surprising enough that Lan Xichen turns around to him.

“You what?” he wants to know but he’s smiling giddily when he sees how embarrassed Jiang Cheng is about this.

“I met your counterpart,” Jiang Cheng admits. “Jiang Xichen.”

“Ah, so that’s where I went,” Lan Xichen nods, finally being able to put that nagging thought to rest.

“Yeah. You had your hair in Yunmeng braids and you were wearing purple,” Jiang Cheng admits and he reaches up to tug on Lan Xichen’s braided hair and then he smoothes his hand over Lan Xichen’s side, clearly appreciating the deep purple that his robes are.

There is still some blue mixed in, but it’s subtle enough that one might miss it on first glance, and Lan Xichen doesn’t mind it as much as he once might have thought.

His heart belongs to Jiang Cheng and that means his everything belongs to Yunmeng as well. It’s only fair that his look reflects that.

“And?” Lan Xichen probes when Jiang Cheng falls silent and then he can’t help himself because he simply has to kiss the blush on Jiang Cheng’s face.

“I was in a sixteen-year-old body,” Jiang Cheng says as if he needs to defend himself and his actions upfront. “There were a lot of hormones I wasn’t used to anymore.”

“And?” Lan Xichen asks again, a smile curling around his mouth because he might see where this is going.

“And Jiang Xichen was smuggling in alcohol past curfew and he was being a little shit and he looked so strange without his forehead ribbon. And I wasn’t used to mine,” Jiang Cheng mutters, clearly embarrassed beyond words and Lan Xichen laughs.

“So you gave him yours?” he snickers and Jiang Cheng pinches his side, before he chases away the sting of pain with a kiss.

“Maybe,” Jiang Cheng whispers against his lips and Lan Xichen hums.

“I thought you were different when you came back,” he admits and a tiny part of Lan Xichen can’t help but to wonder if they would be here at all if Jiang Cheng wasn’t forced into that other world.

If he ever would have come to love Lan Xichen on his own.

“Stop it,” Jiang Cheng chastises him and cups Lan Xichen’s face in his hand. “I love you,” he firmly states. “And I would have come to love you without those three weeks as well. I was already falling for you,” Jiang Cheng promises him and Lan Xichen has to blink back his tears.

Jiang Cheng does know him too well.

“And besides, you don’t have room to judge,” Jiang Cheng finally huffs out. “You gave me your ribbon as well, after all,” he says and tangles his hand in the trailing ends of the slightly purple ribbon Lan Xichen is wearing.

It’s not his Lan ribbon, that one is braided into Jiang Cheng’s hair like it should be, but it still sends a shiver down Lan Xichen’s back when Jiang Cheng lightly pulls on it.

“And you accepted it,” Lan Xichen gives back, because he still can’t believe that some days, but when Jiang Cheng smiles at him, all thoughts flee his mind.

“I love you,” Jiang Cheng whispers, straining up to kiss Lan Xichen, who happily leans into the contact.

He’s too busy kissing Jiang Cheng back to say the words as well, but Lan Xichen figures since he’s wearing purple, proudly displaying Jiang Cheng’s braids in his hair and with his forehead ribbon forever in Jiang Cheng’s possession, it should be more than clear.

He wholeheartedly belongs to Jiang Cheng.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #the untamed #mdzs #xicheng #doubly so #clan swap #lan wanyin #jiang xichen #hurt/comfort #family feels #fix-it of sorts #cuddling and snuggling

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othercat2 · 3 years

Text

Fic: Operational Security: Papermen=/= Drones

One of A'Ying's papermen was desperately flagging down one of my drones. The drone dipped down and the paperman jumped onto it, and rode it to the rooms we rented. (At some point, he decided he wanted his own drones. Watching him figure out how to turn what had been a toy into a more or less workable tool had been interesting.) Important cultivator. Says he knew my parents. Going to inn on west side of the markets. The paperman reports.

A'Ying had also been wanting to do his own "investigations" so I'd been giving him jobs like watching the market and being sent to listen or ask questions. Apparently that was a little too much freedom, because he went and forgot the very important rule of "do not go off with adult strangers and if you are approached/apprehended, run. (Yes even if they're a cultivator.)"

Of course if it was an "important cultivator," chances were good that the cultivator had people with him, and A'Ying hadn't found an opening to run. (Also, anyone who said they knew his parents would someone he'd want to interrogate.) "Stay in the main dining area if you can manage it," you say to the paperman. It does a little salute, and I send it off with three drones while once again wishing this dirtball's technology wasn't so low, and that they had feeds.

I arm myself and head out to the inn. The drones, not impeded by traffic, get there first, and immediately do recon. The "important cultivator," is Jiang Fengmian, the Sect Leader of Jiang Yunmeng. He's accompanied by six other disciples, watching A'Ying in full "street urchin" mode talk and stuff his face with rice at the same time with a fond expression. (The concept of "do one or the other not both" has managed to fly right over A'Ying's head.)

The Sect Leader is selling the idea of joining the Jiang sect, mostly based on the concept: IF Wei Changse (father) served the Jiang THEN Wei Ying (son) should also. This is a very common logic string for this culture. A'Ying meanwhile wants to know everything about his parents, and asks questions about joining the Sect, a few of which appear to baffle the Sect Leader. Wei Ying having heard me negotiate security contracts is trying to do the same. It seems at least 25% percent in earnest, with the rest being a distraction tactic. He's nervous at first until he gets your message. No one notices the little paperman skittering under the table to get to A'Ying. (No one notices the drones either.)

(I am not sure whether A'Ying is being offered a disciple position or a servant position, or some other relationship because Jiang Fengmian talks a lot about his two offspring.)

When I get to the inn, A'Ying is still being humored by the Sect Leader. You step up to the table, and A'Ying immediately jumps up. "Teacher Rin!" he says. "Jiang Zhongzu, this is my teacher, Rin."

I bow. "I'm honored to make your acquaintance, Sect Leader Jiang," I say. "I'd like it if you didn't try to steal my apprentice though." This causes some outrage with the cultivator's disciples. I wasn't even close to polite enough for this culture.

"A'Ying is the son of one of my former disciples," Sect Leader Jiang says. "I have been looking for him for a long time, since I heard his parents...were gone. I am only concerned for his welfare. For an apprentice, he does not appear well cared for."

A'Ying huffs. "It's a disguise," he says. "I didn't get a chance to talk to Fen-jie about the guy she saw." he continues. "There were dogs, and then Sect Leader Jiang rescued me from the dogs."

I nodded. The "guy" in questions was possibly a friend of her former pimp. The pimp himself was no longer in the picture, after dying of infected stab wounds. (Specifically of wounds created with a shiv made from hair accessories and a pair of chopsticks.) The friend was either looking for revenge, or going into the business or some combination of the two. Zhao Fen liked being independent, and at the same time did not want her daughter in the business if she didn't have or want to be.

A'Ying's assignment this time around had been to hang around the market near the teahouse where Zhao Fen and her daughter Zhao Lei worked. (Zhao Fen had an entertainment contract with the owner, and the owner was training the daughter to take over the teahouse.) He was also supposed to get descriptions of the pimp's friend, and a name.

"It's okay, we can go there later." Hopefully I wouldn't have to pretend to eat. I sent A'Ying because as a small juvenile human, he mostly needed all the food he could get, and Zhao Fen could be guaranteed to stuff A'Ying to his eyeballs. (I don't eat, which I'd rather as few people know as possible. I have to set reminders so that A'Ying will feed himself, because he forgets when he gets distracted.) "Thank you for rescuing my apprentice," I say with another bow.

Wei Ying goes over to you, giving Sect Leader Jiang a look that's equal parts interest and wariness. "Jiang Zhongzu said I could become a disciple," he says.

"Specifically he wants you to serve his Sect," I say. "That's not the same thing."

Jiang Fengmian's people are insulted by this statement. "Being offered a chance to serve the Jiang is an honor!" one of the cultivators says. "Wei Changse's son belongs to the Jiang!"

I let my face show how unimpressed I am with this statement.

"Wei Ying has a strong core," the Sect Leader says. "And at such a young age. Don't you think he should be allowed to become a cultivator?"

"'Cultivator' maybe," I say. "I'm not sure about Jiang. It would depend on why Wei Changse left." I hand him one of my business tokens. "I do security consultations and investigation. Any contract negotiations should be with me, not my apprentice."

I and Wei Ying leave the inn. "Mama said it was because of a mean spider yao," he says after a while. "I think she was being silly though. If there was a spider yao she would have killed it."

"What did your dad say?" I asked.

"I don't remember," Wei Ying says with a frown. "Laughed maybe? I think he laughed." He nods to himself.

"I'll do some investigating about spider yao," I say. (I didn't have to do any investigation. Sect Leader Fengmian's wife is known as the Violet Spider. It seemed likely from A'Ying's story that his parents had left the sect because of some argument with Yu Ziyuan.

#the murderbot diaries #fan fic #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #crossover

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guqin-and-flute · 3 years

Text

In Your Hands--Ch. 3 [Peony to Lotus!Verse]

[Chapter 1][Chapter 2]

[This whole fic is the second chronological installment of the Peony to Lotus!Verse]

[First Installment] [Ao3 Series]

“...A-Jie?”

“Mm?” Yanli opens her eyes, going from the deep red-orange of the sun on her eyelids to the fresh blue of the world. She cranes her neck around to look over at A-Cheng.

And finds that he’s no longer basking beside her and is instead sitting up, elbows on his knees, hands fiddling with something on the ground in front of him.

It had taken some convincing to get him to actually lay down in the grass with her as A-Xian and A-Yao man the kites for target practice below them in the waterfall grotto--he is so concerned with being proper and respectable that he hardly lets himself relax anymore. He isn’t even relaxing now. While his gaze is on the disciples playing and training below their bluff-top vantage point, his lips are tight, his face troubled. Sitting up, she scoots closer to him and nudges her shoulder up against him, playfully. “What is it, A-di?”

The wind dances over the dewy spots the sun-warmed grass had left on her robes, lifting up the fresh and living scent of plants and water as she waits for his jaw to work over the words before they come out. For all that he blurts out whatever he wants about (or at) Xianxian, he is always careful when it comes to something regarding her. So she waits, gentling her energy and leaning closer to rest her temple against his hunched shoulder, rubbing her thumb along the tough leather of his bracer.

“Are you...happy?”

She smiles, even though he can’t see it. “Of course I am, A-Cheng. It’s a beautiful day and we’re spending time together. Why?”

“I mean, are you happy...in general? With….” As he pauses, she follows his still stuck gaze and finds it on A-Yao in the shade holding a kite string, listening to something a shimei is saying with a patient smile. “I didn’t...we didn’t force you, did we? You really seemed to like that peac--well, you know. Wei Wuxian and I were wondering…” He looks back to his hands, twisting grass between them fitfully, but she sees his gaze dart to her sideways from underneath his eyebrows. “Are you happy?”

Sweet, romantic boys; the ones who had planned her wedding in full when they were only 8. Both still haunted by the wounds left by her parents’ relationship in their own way. Who had both been more than unimpressed with Jin Guangshan’s attempt at what he clearly saw was a hand-me-down marriage--a marriage they were apparently forgetting that, had she not insisted on for the good of the Clan, wouldn’t have even happened. “With you all taking such good care of me, how could I be anything but?” she teases, but his anxiety stays on his face, so she pets down his hair.

As for Jin Zixuan…. Yanli hadn’t flinched when A-Cheng had said his name, but that familiar drain had opened up in her chest, pulling her down and in until she’s a little smaller, a little sadder, a little...less. Yes. She had wanted to become worthy of that match, for her Clan, for her mother, who had promised her to it since she was just a girl. She had tried.

She just hadn’t been enough.

“Is he good to you?”

Yanli shakes herself from her thoughts and sits up. She laces her fingers together and cushions her chin on the back of them with a faux thoughtful air. “Hmmm, is he good to me? Well, let’s see. I think I’ve received about 4 more gifts from him this week alone and he practically waits on me hand and foot.” She grins despite herself, that familiar giddy curling in her belly. “I would certainly say so.”

At this easy reply, he slants a curious, self conscious look that fits the round faced child she can still remember better than a would-be-stern Clan Leader and hesitantly asks, “Are you...in love?” while waggling his finger back and forth, as if indicating the space between her and her husband.

She covers an unlady-like snort of laughter that threatens to escape before she bites her lip against its persistent aftershocks and lowers the hand. “Why do you ask that like you’re going to get in trouble?” Something about the way he asks it just seems so young.

Flushing, he squirms and looks back down the bluff, but she sees the smile trying to fight its way onto his compressed lips. “I’m just curious!” When she continues to grin, he shoots her a look of reproach and complains, “A-jie, don’t laugh at me!”

“I’m not, I would never!” She laughs and rubs his shoulder to lessen the sting of the tease. “You’re so funny. But...I think...I don’t honestly know. I love talking with him and learning about him; I love...making him happy and seeing him smile. I get excited to spend time with him. I was always under the impression that being in love is something huge and earth shaking--from all the legends and epics--and when you know you know, but…” Yanli takes a deep breath of the clean, full air and looks back down, catching her eyes on the lovely, now-familiar shape of A-Yao in profile. Now, he’s looking up at the kites while shading his eyes, a small smile still on his lips. “But I’m just...happy. It’s lovely, with him, and honestly, I would be completely content if this is all it is.” It would be enough.

She searches this thought, a little, pushing at its edges. For a family? For children? To want? The answer within herself doesn’t feel nearly as urgent as it used to when it comes back with ‘Maybe. There’s no rush.’ She marvels a little at how much she actually believes it.

Watching her watch A-Yao, A-Cheng smiles tentatively in the side of her vision. “That sounds really nice, A-jie.”

“It really is. He’s very...doting.”

At this, A-Cheng snorts. “Unsurprising, considering how he was with Nie-xiong.”

“Oh? Were they close, A-Yao and Nie-er-gongzi?”

“He definitely was devastated when Jin-xiong was kicked out of the Unclean Realm. I always got the feeling that he was something in between a shixiong and a babysitter, but they always got along well, from what I saw. Actually,” he furrows his eyebrows thoughtfully, tilting his head as he watches the disciples milling about, joyful fragments of shouts drifting up with the breeze. “Come to think of it, I don’t know that he’s seen him since….They weren’t in contact during the Sunshot Campaign, we know that much. Maybe they got to talk at the banquet?” His face darkens at the memory--where Jin Zixuan had officially called off the engagement, but he doesn’t speak on it. “I wonder what Nie-xiong thinks of him being here.” His scowl lightens to mere irritation and he scoffs, voice testy, now, as he adds, “Hasn’t bothered to visit.”

Hmm. She plucks this blossoming idea like a little flower to keep for later. Perhaps this is something else she could give her husband.

And oh, that distant past, when she had first seen A-Yao in the classroom of the Cloud Recesses, standing humbly beside Nie Huaisang with his head down. A whole lifetime ago, when her family and Clan still lived and her biggest worry was Jin Zixuan’s aversion; it felt like an entire version of her had lived and died since. If she set herself to it, she could even remember the specifics, like how she had been impressed by his eloquence and the competence of his bearing--even when his parentage had been publicly mocked. In truth, she had been more focused on Wei Wuxian behaving at the time--to her shame. She had known it was wrong even while it happened, could have said something, anything at all.

At least she would, now.

Turning to smooth her hand down his cheek to soothe his ruffled feathers over Nie Huaisang’s neglect and difficult memories, she catches sight of A-Xian charging up the hill with fiendish purpose under the rolling shadow of a cloud. He canons into A-Cheng like a vaguely sweaty firework without slowing.

A-Cheng squawks in disgust as it bowls them both over into the grass and the two of them begin to scuffle about it. A-Xian pants, “Shijie, I don’t think your husband has ever shot a bow before! Ow! You shit!”

A-Cheng sits, grinning and triumphant, on the back of Xianxian’s shoulders, digging his brother’s face into the grass and dirt. But just for a second or two, before he is flipped off and pinned, until he is shoved over and on and on, growling insults and play threats at each other like wrestling puppies. Eventually, laughing, Yanli stands and tugs A-Xian’s arm from the writhing pile, more of a hint than actually physically intervening. But he obediently heaves himself up, sweating, panting, and grinning, all harder than before. A-Cheng gives him a faux-surly punch in the side in retaliation and it very nearly starts the whole thing over again until Yanli firmly puts herself between them with a grin, brushing grass clumps from their hair and clothes. “Honestly, you two! I don’t envy the laundry women, just look what you’ve done to your robes. I should make you two clean them!” A-Cheng at least pretends to look halfway chastised while smiling, but A-Xian just looks proud. That is, until she continues, “And I hope you didn’t embarrass A-Yao about it. You know he wasn’t raised with the same training we were.”

At this, he cocks her an half pout, tucking his chin down and sticking his lip out. “Shijieee, all I said was that he must be worried he couldn’t beat our youngest shidi because he wouldn’t even try. Then he started ignoring me!”

A-Cheng rolls his eyes and tuts, loudly, before saying, “You asshole,” just as Yanli sighs.

Shaking her head, she tilts it in gentle scolding. “Maybe because you compared him to an 8 year old? Xianxian. You have to be careful; you know what people say about him. He needs to be safe, here. Where did you leave him?”

“Oh, he’s still down there, organizing clean up. He wasn’t offended--unlike some people,” here, he shoves at A-Cheng’s shoulder, who elbows him back. “Just the usual smiley Lianfang-zun. You know how he is, shijie, he doesn’t get upset over stuff like that.”

He’s always smiling, that doesn’t mean anything, Xianxian. You of all people would understand that. Yanli raises an eyebrow, gentle but not smiling. His childish act mellows behind his dirt smudged face and he looks away, pouting for real and rubbing his nose. “Sorry, shijie,” he mutters.

“Mm, it’s not me you have to apologize to, A-Xian. It’s about time for you to organize cleanup now, don’t you think?”

He heaves a dramatic sigh, but grudgingly nods before perching on the edge of the bluff, shouting down through cupped hands. “Jin-gege-e-e, your wife wants you!” When he turns around, he points at A-Cheng nonchalantly. “You’re helping.”

“Oh, am I?” A-Cheng smirks, folding his arms and puffing up, very clearly preparing to pull rank.

“Uh, yeah, if you want this back!” Suddenly, A-Xian spins and sprints down the hill, holding his fist up over his shoulder.

“Wei Wuxian! What’d you take?! Hey! Stop!”

As he pelts down the hill after him, Yanli has to laugh because, in the second before he had run, A-Xian had had nothing in his hands at all. For a moment, in this new peace, she closes her eyes and folds her hands over her belly, savoring the sun shining warm--almost hot--on the top of her head and the playful shouts of her brothers and the disciples below. Then, she hears footsteps. When she opens her eyes, she sees A-Yao making his steady way up the hill, his face pleasantly blank. The closer he gets, however, his eyes warm and the edges of him soften until he is here, reaching out and taking her hands. “A-Li? What do you need?” He smells like grass and water and sun.

“Was A-Xian being terrible again?”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Oh no, he’s just being Wei Wuxian. You look flushed--shall I walk you back?”

But day by day she is learning each of his little lies and she recognizes this as one of them. Strangely, as the weeks go by, the masks he wears have been bothering her less and less; partially because she is beginning to understand that they are protection for him. Like armor or clothing--he would feel naked without them. If she can still tell what he wants, if she can still peek under them, she is more than happy not to pry them from him when he still needs their safety. (Of course she wishes he didn’t feel like he needs them in their home, with the people who would be his family, if he let them. But, like growing seeds or proving dough, these things take time and that, they certainly have.) He is becoming less of an impenetrable fortress and more of a foreign land that she can more easily navigate as she learns the language. It allows her to leave these smiles hung up like beautiful paintings she can name. Underneath this, he is tense and displeased; his smile-curved eyes opaque, his jaw holding tension. This one is Humiliation.

Twining her arms around his trim waist, she thrills in that wanted way she does every time he lets her hold him before she tucks her cheek to his to murmur, “I told him not to tease like that. I know it hurts you.” While she may have become more inclined to leave him his shields when he puts them up against her, she can’t help but talk around it, just a little. She cares less about the hiding and more about the fact that he suffers.

“...It’s fine.” He says nothing more, but his hands move to hold her back, one smoothing up between her shoulder blades as his face tips down against her neck, nose and eyelashes pressing. Not a talking problem, then. So she rocks, a bit, from her ankles to her hips, swaying them both slowly together in the rustling breeze with something like playfulness and something like comfort. “What are you doing, this afternoon?” She asks the air behind him, eyes cast to the wisping clouds passing slowly across the sky.

“Mm, I had planned to organize a list of new merchants in the area for Jiang Wanyin. Is there something you need me to do instead?"

"Is it urgent?"

"Not that I saw. Why, A-Li?"

"I was going to make dumplings tonight and I would love it if you joined me. If you want," she adds, diffidently. “I made the dough this morning.”

He startles, a little, and draws back, looking genuinely surprised. He opens his mouth, then closes it. Then smiles warmly. “I’d be delighted.”

The sincerity of that smile makes her grin and she bounces a little on her toes--and he laughs. Clearly, he's pleased she wants to spend time with him. And she's pleased that he's pleased. And he seems to be pleased that she's pleased that he's pleased and around and around they go--it might have been embarrassing if it weren’t so fun.

It turns out that he’s as quick a study at being a kitchen hand as he is at anything else he does; he absorbs her instructions thoughtfully and works diligently, his noon-sky blue sleeves patterned with little whirls of teal tied back with a simple strip of cloth as he chops up the chives and garlic and ginger. His knife strokes are as rhythmic and sure as the kitchen is hot, with little wisps of breeze edging around the wet billows of spices and green and cooking pork. “You are so much easier to work with than Xianxian,” she tells him from down the smooth, sunbathed counter where she’s perched on a stool, rolling out the rounds of dough. “I love him dearly, but he tries to put absolutely everything in his mouth, even now.”

A tiny smile picks at the corner of his concentration tight lips. Then, with a flick of an eye to see if she’s watching, he wordlessly pops a little shred of ginger into his mouth from the neat pile he has made. “You!” Yanli gasps in delighted outrage at his audacity and leans over to ineffectually tap at the counter near his elbow--she can’t quite reach him, sitting down.

At this, he laughs outright and offers his wrist out, knife blade carefully angled away . She gives the back of his wrist a playful little swipe with her fingertips, leaving streaks of flour. “I thought I would make it a little more familiar for you,” he says, by way of excuse. “More what you’re used to.”

“Absolutely incorrigible,” she replies, fondly, righting herself again.

Here in the kitchen, where she has history and proficiency--where she is master--it’s as easy as anything to tease and tend with absolutely no worry at all. She isn’t agonizing if she is providing enough or saying the right things, because she knows exactly what must be done when, and he is masterful at following directions the very first time she gives them. Conversation is light and inconsequential around her instructions, and she is able to conserve her energy staying seated on the stool, maneuvering him about the kitchen as her arms with little guilt at all.

In what feels like no time, they sit beside each other at the floured, bowl littered counter; bowls of filling, of water, of flour. Their shoulders brush. “So you wet the edge like this, because the dough isn’t completely fresh anymore--”

“Mn.”

“And you spoon in about this much--not much more or it will burst in the pan.”

“This much?”

“A little more, I think. Perfect! Then, like this. Then you fold the sides.”

“Too much?”

“Mmn, next time it can be a little tighter, but that’s good for your first one! Pinch it and--beautiful!” She pauses a moment to savor the look of her husband with flour speckling his quick, capable hands and lean forearms, seriously contemplating the dumpling. “You’re a natural.”

The withdrawing he had done behind his shields that morning is nowhere in sight when he looks over at her with unmistakable pride in his bright eyes. “Well, I have a wonderful teacher.”

She bites her grin back and waves the compliments away, laying out the next wrapper in front of her. “Oh, you.”

“Where did you learn the art of food?”

“Liu-popo, one of our cooks! I think I first got interested because I was sick for a lot of my childhood and she always made me the most wonderful meals. And when we found out about my heart and my health...well….” Mother stopped pushing once she realized Yanli would never be able to keep up with the training of the other disciples because there was no way for her to improve. No way for her to contribute to the Clan in a meaningful way. “I had a lot more free time. My room was by the kitchens, and I have always loved the smells and the bustle of it all. The more I was there, the more Liu-popo would let me mix things, tell me how they worked and what flavors went together. At dinner, seeing people eat what I made...knowing I did that, knowing I made them happy and full…it felt good.” She gives a little smile and glances at him. “And there's so many things you can do once you understand the basics, too. You can experiment and make new dishes!”

He wets the edge of his next dough wrapper and says, conversationally, “Like Wei Wuxian and his talisman inventions.”

This startles a laugh out of her and sparks from her dangling earrings in the sun dance off the warm gold glow reflected from their bodies onto the wall around the window. “Oh, no, it’s nothing special.”

“Really? I think it’s very similar. You’re perfecting something and helping people. Bringing them together and taking care of them, feeding their bodies and keeping them strong? That’s just as important.”

She hesitates and looks out the window. She never thought of it that way. The lotuses are pearly and bobbing in the bright breeze, their heady scent sneaking in light and fragrant under the punch of the spices. Their brilliance under the sun leaves dazzling green after images when she blinks. “Do you think so?” Assigning that much importance to it seems borderline ridiculous--what she does and what her brothers do is hardly comparable at all. She struggles to make herself useful while they blaze their way through the world, changing it with their will and sword edges. They are proper cultivators, proper warriors.

There is a pause, then a gentle hand lays over her wrist, slightly gritty from the flour coating his palm. “If you had asked me what I would have preferred when I was in the Scorching Sun Palace--a talisman or a warm meal from someone who--” it feels like he swallows a word back here, smoothly substituting, “cares, I know which I would have chosen. Without question.”

Even this feels like a kind exaggeration designed to make her feel better--soup instead of life saving magic? But this little rare little bauble of personal experience he was handing her was something more important than soothing her pride, so she smiles over at him. “You’re very sweet. But what about you? You’re a natural! Did your niang teach you how to cook?”

At this, his face slides from serious earnest to pleasant veneer and, with a spike of cold anxiety, she fears she has put her hand on a door that she thought she was being invited into, only to find it forbidden. But he merely turns back to spooning in the pork filling and says, lightly. “I’m sure she knew how--she was well educated in most things. But we didn’t tend to frequent the kitchens.” There is a silence she fears is the end of this particularly enticing thread. But then, eyes still on the pre-dumpling, he says, “She taught me other things, though. How to read and write. Proper etiquette. The basics of a guqin….”

There is a pause, and this feels almost uncertain, him tilting on his toes on the precipice of a step she desperately wants him to take, so she hazards, “Like Lan-zongzhu.”

A smile, small and fond, before he forces it brighter at his hands, efficiently twisting the little peaks. “Just like. He’s had more formal training, of course, but she was able to play quite well.”

Yanli knows some of this, of course. His mother had been famous for how educated she was despite her occupation--the refined courtesan of Yunping. But that’s not who she had been to A-Yao. She had been his mother. “She was a very talented woman.”

“Yes.”

“You loved her very much.”

Softer, smile greying; “Yes.”

A silence stretches, a bird outside trilling to accentuate it, so she says, quietly. “I’m sorry, we don’t have to talk about her, A-Yao. I didn’t mean to pry.”

That smile hikes wider and he looks over at her, where she can see in full the raw tension that hides just barely underneath and she wants to shower him with praise and thanks for the gift that it is. “You’re my wife, A-Li. There’s no prying; you can ask me anything you want to know.”

Mmhm, she thinks, I can ask, but you won't necessarily answer. What clever wording; sneaky. No need to push. Just like with A-Xian, she will let him take the time he needs to tell her what's wrong. As long as he knows she is always there to listen. “Well, I love hearing about her….” Then shyly, she adds. “Would she have liked me?

When his face softens completely, there is something in the corners of his mouth that makes her think of tears, though there’s no trace of it anywhere else. His voice is low when he says, “She would have adored you.”

She reaches out and touches his cheek with her flour coated hand, crumbling a swath of white up to his cheekbone. The way he’s looking at her is almost like yearning in his eyes, searching and wanting, even though she is right here, right with him, staying. A warmth rushes in her chest. “I would have loved to have met her, A-Yao. She must have been amazing--and you honor her so well.” It's truth. Nothing but.

Little lines pierce where his dimples should lie and he swallows, blinks. “...I try,” he says in a voice she has never heard from him before; it’s small. Clotted and uncertain. His eyes widen and he stiffens, and she feels him tightening, receding--so she pretends she doesn’t see it, pretends that she doesn’t know that that had been a slip of vulnerability that scares him.

She takes away all pressure--her hand from his cheek, her gaze from his face--and turns away to fuss over another circle of dough. Sprinkling more flour on the counter, arranging everything just so in front of her as she smiles. “Well, you’ve proven to be a wonderful kitchen hand, so you should help me make dumplings for all the holidays, since you’re so good at it. New Years and Dongzhi and--oh, I should teach you the dances we do for the Dragon Boat Festival! I perform one every year for Lotus Pier, when I can. Or,” she straightens with realization. “Oh!” When she turns to him, he’s considering the dumpling he’s pinching with far more concentration than is warranted. “Oh, you grew up in Yunping! Do you know any?”

He clears his throat without looking up, smile uncomfortable. “I know a few. Quite a few. My mother taught me to dance because she didn’t know any martial arts to prepare me for cultivation outside some of the books she managed to find. But she knew starting me in a physical discipline young would help. I’m...adequate.”

Even more corners of her life she could tuck him into! More things she could share with him! A way to draw him from the shell he’s desperately trying to retreat back into! Excitedly, she twists on her stool, swiping her hands on her apron. “Oh, show me, please, I want to see!”

The tips of his ears redden adorably, and he winces. “I don’t...A-Li--”

There are not many things she will push him on, except on matters where he paints himself as unworthy, but this! This she absolutely has to see, here, just them, sharing the things that make them who they are under the kitchen counter in private. “Please, oh, please! I’ll even dance with you, if you don’t want to do it alone! We’ll go together!” She stands and shrugs her shoulders to free her arms some mobility from where her apron captures the joining of her sleeves, letting her hands rest on the air in delicate anticipation.

He’s startled into looking up at her, eyebrows pinching. His face is colored in embarrassed alarm. “I only ever performed alone, my partner dances aren’t--”

Performed! She could crow. And she will get that story in time, oh yes she will. “Then you choose! Whatever you want, I’ll follow you! Whatever you want, whatever!”

At this insistence, reluctantly, slowly, he stands, dusting off his hands before untying the cloth that keeps his sleeves back. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, to her utter rising delight he shrugs out of his heavier blue outer robe entirely to drape over the edge of the rack of unpeeled vegetables. It leaves him in 2 lighter, tighter layers of shades of plum and navy. The lack of patterns on the fabric simplifies his lines, rendering him limber and neat as he places his feet just so.

Immediately it is clear that he is not merely adequate, as he claimed. When he lifts his hands, the intent behind them shows someone who has had control of their body’s movements from a very young age and knows where every square inch of it is at all times--no less talented or powerful than those lifelong cultivators that she knows. He is watching her. She glows with the trust of it all and follows his first step.

There is no music, and so she sees his quick tempo and meets it with a wordless, half remembered song, all ‘da da’s and breathless notes as they move. And they dance, wheeling tight in the modest space of the kitchen floor. The dance he chooses is, as he said, not usually a couple dance, but she knows it and mirrors him, light and lilting, stepping quick and smooth. Some of the sweeps of his arms and legs are the masculinized version of what she knows, so she reflects in compliment when she can--when the counters and bulbs of hanging garlic and strings of peppers don’t block her path. It’s amazing, it’s easy, it’s fun.

She watches his face flash pass during a turn--once, concentration; twice, surprise; thrice, realization. When he faces front, he looks tentatively pleased.

She arches her back and kicks up her foot in a sharp arc in improvisation, grinning cheekily and that real, crooked grin of his is back, with something different, something--is that teasing? Arms spread like wings for balance, he responds in kind, but the arc of it is wider, higher, until, for a single moment, the billow of his robes is a flower blossom on the impossibly straight line of his legs, up and down. She whoops in undignified awe in the middle of a measure, abandoning the tune.

In the end, she bumps the corner table with her hip and teeters a moment, arms wheeling for balance even as she laughs. When he catches her wrist and pulls her back, Yanli collapses onto him, arms around his neck as she giggles, helplessly elated. Struggling back upright, she grabs his face in her palms and plants a quick, hard kiss on his lips.

His fast breath tastes like ginger.

They are both flushed and panting in the heat of the kitchen, wisps of humidity frazzled hair escaping their respective guan and pin. And they are both grinning. “You must perform with me,” she wheezes.

Breathlessly, he lets out a short laugh, smile going wryer but not disappearing. “Ah, I doubt anyone wants to see me.”

“I do!”

Again, he chuckles. “Then I’ll dance for you.”

He’ll dance for her! That golden bubbling is back in her chest, permeating the whole of her until she feels like sunlight. “Think about it at least?”

With an air of extreme indulgence that tells her that he has thought and has already decided, he nods, one dimple pressed in deep. She lets it go. Oh well, next year.

He helps her sit because her lungs are tight and her legs going to jelly, but she is so helplessly pleased by him and the gifts he keeps giving her. So she kisses him again, because she likes to and she can, and feels his palms press her closer by her shoulder blades and feels so very very wanted.

#my fic #my stuff #peony to lotus #AT LAST. I CAN WRITE. Hopefully I'm going to write more tonight

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neuxue · 3 years

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The Untamed Liveblog: Episode 42 – Stabbing As A Fun Family Bonding Activity (Reprise)

It’s not a real Jinlintai party without insult, injury, a murder investigation, and a tearful conversation in the rain.

1. Evidence Hidden and Names Revealed

If Lan Xichen turned on me the smile he turns on Su She, I would simply run away.

Lan Xichen can and will wreck your shit but instead he smiles that polite we both know I could ruin you :) but it’s not going to come to that :) is it:) because you’re going to behave :) smile.

Meanwhile Lan Wangji is just. Glaring murder at him. Lan Wangji also can and will wreck your shit but you’re more likely to see it coming.

Jin Guangyao is doing a classic ‘My secret room? Why yes of course I’ll show it to you; there’s nothing incriminating to see here; I just recently had the place cleaned!’

No, Wei Wuxian, he’s not afraid Qin Su might say something, because she can’t speak right now. (Please someone help Qin Su)

Yeah why am I. Not even remotely surprised that the head’s not there anymore.

I’m honestly more surprised that Wei Wuxian expected it to still be there, given that he knew Jin Guangyao saw his paper figure. Come on Wei Wuxian, you’re a better tactician than this.

It’s left to Lan Xichen to ask the question, and he does it with a soft “A-Yao”—a name filled with trust, but a question that implies suspicion. His two roles: Lan Xichen who trusts A-Yao, and Zewu-jun who must consider the suspicion cast on Jin Guangyao.

Qin Su!

No no no!

Held frozen in this room, unable to speak, to accuse or to call for help, unable to move, and her single and final act of agency is to draw the knife on herself.

That’s. Wow. Okay. So that happened. Fuck.

Jin Guangyao: “What is going on?”

It’s a good move, on his part, to turn the suspicion around, to use this as a kind of accusation, to garner sympathy. And it has to hurt Lan Xichen, to see Jin Guangyao’s loss, to fear that he is somehow responsible, to fear that his suspicion is unfounded and that this is the price of it, but he also can’t just drop this completely—

Jin Guangyao: “Is there something you haven’t told me?”

And again we cut to Lan Xichen’s face, and it’s his own unasked question turned back on him; it’s Jin Guangyao looking at him as if he might be the one who has betrayed the trust between them.

And yet again it falls to Lan Xichen to be the one to calmly explain as Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang arrive. He’s the one who most trusts Jin Guangyao, the one who most likes him, and yet he has to be the one to ask, to push, to try to offer comfort, to explain, to remain calm and detached, and I just really need someone to give him a hug and no one is going to.

At this point I am almost certain Nie Huaisang suspects Jin Guangyao, and probably has something to do with this whole situation. And I’m less but still relatively certain that while this might put an understandable damper on Nie Huaisang’s friendship towards Jin Guangyao, Jin Guangyao still on some level cares about Nie Huaisang.

Friends! To! Enemies! This is my entire jam! People who know each other, and so know best how to twist the knife. Who play out their friendship even alongside their enmity, and the betrayal hurts everyone, and—

Oh. Nie Huaisang taking Lan Xichen’s hand in a gesture that seems almost like kindness, and certainly like grief, but also a little bit like cruelty (though the kind that would hurt them both) when he asks “You’re speaking of… my da-ge? Your da-ge?”

Every time we cut to Lan Xichen’s face, which is often, it breaks my heart. We’ve seen so many characters watch their world collapse around them, but Lan Xichen is so… quiet, so absolute in the way he hides his own feelings away in the name of his duty and his role. It’s self-sacrifice so quiet and well-hidden that those around him may not even notice it beneath his gentle smiles and unimpeachable skill and perfect decorum.

Jin Guangyao: “The clues disappeared? So… you came to search my place? You wanted me to open the vault because you suspected that da-ge’s head was at my place?”

The way he looks up at Lan Xichen as he starts to say this, softly, as if pleading with him! As if looking at him and saying er-ge… you suspect me too, don’t you? And Lan Xichen just having to remain steadfast in the face of that!

And Jin Guangyao did it, yes, but still it hurts him as well, I think, to see something like suspicion from Lan Xichen. To know that if he fails here he might lose even him. That even if he succeeds here, he might still lose him.

But I also think he knows something of Lan Xichen’s conflict, and so focuses on him, perhaps hating that he’s using the bond between them but using it anyway, because Lan Xichen is the one he might be able to persuade, and the one with the power, in this room, to protect him.

And for the first time Lan Xichen doesn’t answer, and looks away.

Su She: “Why Hanguang-jun, a person known for his grace and righteousness, would keep such a notorious person by his side is hard to understand.”

The words are intended for Mo Xuanyu, but to Wei Wuxian they could just as easily be about himself. He wonders the same thing—he asked Lan Wangji why Lan Wangji was helping him. He has never… quite understood why Lan Wangji stood beside him, followed him, visited him, reached for him on that cliffside. Oh, he could understand that they were friends, could say “I once thought of you as my lifelong zhiji,” and offer his life to Lan Wangji for the taking, could trust him… but I don’t think he ever really considered himself worthy of the same from Lan Wangji, and so never quite… understood it. Wei Wuxian’s terminal inability to understand that other people care about him.

But then Jin Guangyao draws his sword and Lan Wangji immediately, instinctively, moves to shield Wei Wuxian, to parry, to protect.

The running theme of ‘people stepping between Wei Wuxian and danger, when as far as he’s concerned it should always be the other way around, and Wei Wuxian not entirely understanding what’s happening’ continues.

So he sets a hand on Lan Wangji’s shoulder and pushes him aside. Makes himself the target again.

SUIBIAN!!!!

SUIBIAN IN WEI WUXIAN’S HANDS!!!!!!!

WEI WUXIAN DRAWING SUIBIAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have. So many feelings about this. Most of them are just WEI WUXIAN! DRAWING! SUIBIAN! AGAIN!

What a moment.

And everyone’s face.

Jin Guangyao: “Yiling Laozu. You’re the Yiling Laozu!”

I know I mentioned this already last episode, but the irony here is fucking spectacular. The sword whose relinquishing represented the turning point that led him to that title, is now the one that, in its reclaiming, names him the same. Not Wei Wuxian, who wielded Suibian once, but the Yiling Laozu, who didn’t. Suibian’s absence then, but presence now, both causes of distrust.

If you wanted to you could even extend it to a kind of… there was so much focus on his sword, on bringing him back to that path, but even if he had, even if he could have, they would have found something else. Because it’s not about the sword; it’s about the target.

Sorry, I’m just losing my mind over how perfect this whole moment is.

Oh, Jin Ling. Speaking of characters watching their world fall apart in front of them.

And Nie Huaisang, who I am certain knew who Wei Wuxian was already, is the one to try to cast doubt on that name, as if to… cover for him. Or to force proof. Could go either way, and I am as ever kind of fascinated by post-flashback Nie Huaisang.

Jin Ling: “So he isn’t definitely Wei Wuxian, right?”

Oh, kid. He wants so badly for this person he has come to like to be anyone but Wei Wuxian.

Several times he said “I don’t care who you are” to Wei Wuxian, and he meant it, but he meant it so long as it was anyone else.

Because he cannot like Wei Wuxian, cannot accept ever having liked Wei Wuxian, because that would mean betraying himself, betraying his parents—

Jin Guangyao’s like ‘oh yeah Mo Xuanyu saw some of the Yiling Laozu’s notes I had lying around, specifically the Sacrifice Summon’ and no one responds with the obvious ‘Jin-zongzhu why the fuck did you leave that lying around?’

And I wonder if him seeing it was… not an accident. But then the question is who, and I don’t see why Jin Guangyao would want to bring Wei Wuxian back, and there’d be easier ways to get rid of Mo Xuanyu, so. That leaves…hm. Hmmm.

Did Wei Wuxian not know Suibian sealed itself? Huh.

Also. If the sword is connected to the spirit. Is Wei Wuxian. The only one who can draw it?

And then as Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji get the fuck out of there, Jin Guangyao turns to Jin Ling with this look of absolute gentle sympathy, and twists the knife:

Jin Guangyao: “A-Ling… […] He tricked us all. So I don’t blame you for treating the murderer of your father as your friend, and protecting him”

I mean first of all it’s the classic ‘I’m not going to mention [thing that I now describe in great detail], but…’

But mostly, Jin Ling is already blaming himself, hating himself for this betrayal of himself and everything he believed; this betrayal of his parents’ memories, that he could befriend their murderer without knowing.

This, right here, is why I love that trope so much, of someone meeting their sworn enemy out of context and liking them. This moment when it’s revealed, because how do you reconcile that? How does he reconcile the monster of his childhood with the friend and teacher? How does he face the fact that he likes the person he most hates, without breaking?

2. On The Steps Of Jinlintai (Again)

When it looks like they’re not going to be able to escape, Wei Wuxian pushes Lan Wangji away. Again. As always.

Because Wei Wuxian, as ever, cannot accept or anyone he cares about being hurt because of him. Because Wei Wuxian, as ever, will make himself the target, because he deserves this, doesn’t he? And he can take it, and so he should take it, right? And if he can’t, well, at least he’s not bringing anyone he loves down with him.

But the look on Lan Wangji’s face is that of someone who has watched Wei Wuxian do this too many times before, never considering that maybe he shouldn’t have to. Face a ring of swords like it’s only right that they point at him, but unacceptable that they point at Lan Wangji. Value his life, again and as ever, as less.

I don’t think it hurts like a rejection or a lack of trust, exactly, but it hurts Lan Wangji that Wei Wuxian still… thinks Lan Wangji would accept being pushed away while Wei Wuxian faces those swords alone. That Lan Wangji would accept doing anything but standing by him.

Once again Wei Wuxian lowers the mask, because he will make himself the target, face their hatred of him if it will protect the ones he loves.

Wei Wuxian smiles the smile he gives when he’s pretending pain doesn’t hurt, the smile he gives when he hates himself a little bit for bringing pain to those he cares about, when Jin Guangyao says “Not only Jin Ling, but Hanguang-jun was also fooled by you,” and says yes.

Except.

Lan Wangji: “Not so.”

Loudly, clearly, and in absolutely unequivocal words.

Like, even more so than when he spoke out against Jin Guangshan’s accusation in 27. There, his response to “everyone heard” was more or less analogous to “I didn’t.” Here, it’s more like… ‘that is incorrect’, but formally and with emphasis. Lan Wangji is not fucking around.

Wei Wuxian is not going to face the world’s hatred alone; Lan Wangji won’t let him. This time Lan Wangji is going to make his allegiance utterly, exquisitely clear.

Lan Wangji, Second Jade of Lan, with his reputation for righteousness, steps up to Wei Wuxian—without looking anywhere but directly at Wei Wuxian, because it doesn’t matter who the rest of them are or what they say or how they look at him; nothing matters more than standing beside him—and says “I already knew he was Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian: “Lan Zhan, you don’t have to do this. I’m long used to this.”

“You don’t have to,” Wei Wuxian says, but Lan Wangji isn’t doing this out of obligation, which Wei Wuxian has always struggled to understand, because it’s how he sees so much of his own life (and because he always sees himself as the one who owes). “I’m used to this,” he says, but to Lan Wangji that’s part of what makes this so intolerable to watch: he shouldn’t have to be. Wei Wuxian shouldn’t have to do this either.

It’s like this post-flashback sequence is just trying to grab Wei Wuxian’s face in both hands and say you matter, damn it, and one of these days it’s going to work.

Wei Wuxian: “Just say you were deceived by the Yiling Laozu”

Calling this one out because the Netflix subs don’t include the title, but I love it because It’s About The Names, and when Lan Wangji said he knew Wei Wuxian’s identity, he said he knew he was Wei Ying. Not Wei Wuxian, not the Yiling Laozu, not even some form of ‘I knew who he was’. Whereas Wei Wuxian is invoking his own title, his reputation that has been made infamous, trying to get Lan Wangji to… reject that knowing of him, reject the intimacy of his name, at least for the sake of performance.

Lan Wangji: “Wei Ying. Do you remember what you asked me in the Cloud Recesses?”

DO YOU TRUST ME!!!!!!! DID YOU TRUST ME BACK THEN!!!!!!!

LAN WANGJI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

He doesn’t just say ‘I trust you’, which could be read as just a statement applicable to this single circumstance, but instead recalls that entire conversation, which itself was about… everything they are to each other, and everything they were to each other, and why Lan Wangji stands beside him now. It’s I trust you but it’s also an explanation and apology and beneath that this sense of I will make myself clearer now than I did then. I will stand by you now as I wish I had then. All in the space of a single question.

Lan Wangji: “The feeling of walking a narrow bridge into the dark is indeed not bad.”

And here he invokes their last farewell before everything went wrong! The last time he walked away! The last time he left Wei Wuxian to walk his path alone!

But this time he steps up to him, and turns towards him, and smiles, and says with that one phrase, recalling a memory to serve as a contrast and therefore an explanation, you’re not alone this time. Says I questioned the path you chose, once, but I trust you now, and I will walk it with you.

And Wei Wuxian, still surrounded by this ring of swords and accusations and hatred, smiles a true smile back at him. Says his name with fondness and helpless laughter of, like, love and astonishment. He can’t keep from smiling, laughing, because he can hardly believe, and yet. Here Lan Wangji is, saying this.

(The cut to Jiang Cheng’s face, though? Watching his brother smile again, but not at him, perhaps never again at him… Jiang Cheng just watching again as Wei Wuxian chooses someone else over him, and why wouldn’t he? But there’s no anger there; just this bittersweet acceptance that his brother may be lost to him, but… but his brother is smiling).

And then these two face the world together, back to back, fighting in perfect unison as they always did.

Oh Jin Ling.

And Jiang Cheng, watching as the last of his family face each other, as Wei Wuxian causes pain for the one person he has left.

I don’t think Jiang Cheng wants to stop Wei Wuxian right now, not really. Certainly not like this; he’d confront him in private but what lies between them is more personal than a political stage. And while Jiang Cheng might not call it loyalty, he’s not going to go out of his way to hand his brother over to Jin Guangyao.

But he also knows what Jin Ling is feeling, and he can’t stop Jin Ling either, can’t deny him the chance to confront the one responsible for his parents’ deaths. Also it would be political suicide (and I think there is a part of Jiang Cheng that hates himself a little bit, and hates Lan Wangji more, for the fact that Lan Wangji can stare the world in the face—or rather, gently look Wei Wuxian in the eyes—and say fuck my reputation. That Lan Wangji can stand by Wei Wuxian, and that he can do it with such certainty, when all Jiang Cheng has is grief and anger and doubt and far too much pain).

All he can do is watch, and there’s no making it out of this night without being hurt one way or another, which. Jiang Cheng’s familiar with that feeling, at least! He could use a hug as well.

But oh, Jin Ling. Jin Ling shaking, as he holds out his sword and asks “Are you really Wei Ying, Wei Wuxian?” as if still desperate for the answer, somehow, to be no.

He’s just hurting. So much.

Oh.

Ow.

I mean.

You know what, I can’t even blame him.

Like, no, stabbing is probably not an ideal solution here, but he has had a day. And his entire world is falling apart in front of him and he doesn’t know what to do and he’s barely holding himself together and he’s so hurt and so angry and so… of course he stabs him.

Wei Wuxian doesn’t even look surprised. He accepts this, too, as no more than his due.

(Jiang Cheng, on the other hand, looks… horrified).

(He wants to shout at Wei Wuxian, wants to hurt him, maybe, but he doesn’t actually want him to bleed)

Lan Wangji, as always, catches Wei Wuxian as he falls.

And Jin Ling, ah, Jin Ling.

Jin Ling, who stabbed Wei Wuxian in the same place as Jiang Cheng once did, and probably got just as much satisfaction out of it, which is… none.

And so he just stands there trembling, in the wreckage of everything he thought he knew, sword falling from his hand, because it doesn’t help, doesn’t make the hurt go away, why does it still hurt—

3. A Little Fall Of Rain (Can Hardly Hurt Me Now)

Oh it’s these two in the rain again, but this time they’re walking together rather than away from each other.

Though Wei Wuxian is also barely walking at all.

Is it bad that I think bleeding and exhausted and barely able to stand is a good look on him? Don’t answer that.

His blood is staining Lan Wangji’s clothes. And Lan Wangji does not care. I see what you did there.

Oh good yes let’s remember this first cliffside scene; that doesn’t hurt at all. The time when Lan Wangji questioned him about the Yin Tiger Seal, pressed him for answers, didn’t trust him as he wishes he had. The time when Wei Wuxian said “You doubt me too, don’t you?” and Lan Wangji didn’t answer. The time when Lan Wangji said “You promised to let me help,” and Wei Wuxian replied “But if you don’t trust me, how can you help.” The scene I have seared into my brain (among… many, but still). Good times.

And as if that weren’t enough we get a third rendition of the… other cliffside scene. When Lan Wangji tried too late to hold on, to say come back.

(But now. Now he has stood by Wei Wuxian. Now he gave him that trust, stood at his side on that single-log bridge)

(Now Wei Wuxian is moments away from bleeding out in his arms. Now Lan Wangji is terrified he’s about to lose Wei Wuxian again—)

Lan Wangji: “Why are you laughing?” Wei Wuxian: “It’s nothing. Just… Something funny. When everyone admired my power and wanted to flatter me, you’re the only one who scolded me. But now, when everyone wants me to die, and hates me, you’re the only one standing at my side.”

I am. On. The floor.

This is TOO MUCH!

But it’s perfect. Because… because, Wei Wuxian, he sees you. Has always seen you, cared about you: not the power you wield or the threat you pose or your reputation or your capability or what you can do for him or what you could do to him. Just you. Just Wei Ying.

And so before, Lan Wangji was the only one to scold him because Lan Wangji was afraid for him, rather than of him. Because Lan Wangji saw the person beneath that power, and feared that he would be lost to it, and cared about that more than anything Wei Wuxian could do. And now they hate him, but all that matters to Lan Wangji is that he’s there. Because to Lan Wangji he is still, as he ever was, Wei Ying.

And that was what Wei Wuxian never understood, but… perhaps, maybe, could begin to.

Also it hurts, the way his expression falters just a little when he talks of how they all hate him. He has spent so long deliberately not caring, making himself immune to wound and insult, or at least pretending hard enough to convince himself it was reality, but sometimes… it does hurt.

They see him as so terrifying, so powerful, as invincible and something not quite human, someone who can’t bleed the way they do, hurt the way they do; and he played into that image even before he really stepped into that role. He has always shrugged off pain, the better to serve as a shield. But here, alone but for the one who sees him, and knows him, he is just… hurt, and tired, and sad.

He’s not hiding his wounds, here. He lets Lan Wangji see him hurt and tired and vulnerable. Lets Lan Wangji see him bleeding, literally and metaphorically. A return of that trust. And his own kind of apology, perhaps, for pushing him away all those years ago, for hiding his pain then.

4. Just A Casual Family Music Recital

Of course now Wei Wuxian is back to trying to hide how badly he’s hurt, but I think it’s more… instinct than true reluctance. Instinct and that kind of… tentative question in the face of new vulnerability, after their conversation on the stairs, and in the rain.

Meanwhile Lan Wangji just pulls back Wei Wuxian’s robe and Wei Wuxian has to recalibrate his entire understanding of the world.

Wei Wuxian’s conjecture around someone leading them to investigate Nie Mingjue’s death, and that person being probably the same as the one who gave Qin Su the letter and maybe let Mo Xuanyu discover whatever the secret was… and hates Jin Guangyao…

It makes me wonder again how exactly Mo Xuanyu found the Sacrifice Summon notes. How he thought to call Wei Wuxian.

(And Wei Wuxian’s expression as the Sacrifice Summon is mentioned… his last days were blow after blow of watching first Wen Qing and Wen Ning sacrifice themselves and then Jiang Yanli, and he was always the one who was supposed to sacrifice— and now someone he didn’t even know is dead because of him and he’s here in his place. It’s not the absolute self-loathing we’ve seen from him at other times, but there’s a kind of regret, perhaps, or sorrow, like when he handed the bag holding Xiao Xingchen’s soul to Song Lan).

Still Many Feelings about Wei Wuxian holding Suibian again. And whispering “thank you” to Lan Wangji as Lan Wangji hands it to him, rather than tossing it aside, or telling him sharply enough, or leave it.

I absolutely love the shot of his face mirrored in Suibian’s blade. The identity of it all!!

I absolutely will not make any kind of innuendo about Lan Wangji tugging on the hilt of Wei Wuxian’s sword while they sit in bed together.

Wei Wuxian did you only now realise you were at Cloud Recesses? Too busy staring into Lan Wangji’s eyes as he held your sword?

Wei Wuxian: “What if your brother finds out?” Lan Xichen (from outside): “I already found out.”

Have I mentioned how much I love Lan Xichen and the fact that he is not-so-secretly a massive troll?

And he’s smiling as he walks in here, having probably been waiting outside for the most entertaining or dramatic opportunity to make his entrance. As he offers the safety of Cloud Recesses and his protection to Wei Wuxian.

But. I’m still just. Remembering his face in the previous scenes. (He just hides that away, buries it, because his pain should not be anyone else’s concern).

And then there’s Wei Wuxian, who smiled in overwhelmed disbelief and joy and surprise as Lan Wangji stood beside him against the world, and now is being offered protection with a smile from Zewu-jun, and it’s just a lot for him to process, okay?!

But maybe, if it keeps happening, he’ll get it through his head that he’s worthy of being protected, that it’s okay to need and accept help, that it doesn’t make him a burden, that he doesn’t have to continually pay down the debt of his existence.

(Well. Once he’s paid off the sacrifice summon scars, anyway…)

Lan Xichen:“Now that Wei-gongzi is awake, Wangji, isn’t it time you gave me an account as well?”

Oh that is the Older Sibling Smile of and now you will do exactly as I say or I will tell uncle who ate the last of the sweets.

And then! Lan Xichen smiles a little at Lan Wangji and goes… Netflix subs give “You’re really more than I can handle” but it’s also kind of like… a fondly exasperated “What am I going to do with you” and don’t mind me I’m just sitting here screaming about the Twin Jades and how they’re brothers, and how Lan Xichen teases Lan Wangji, when almost no one else in the entire world ever does or has or would—

How to each other they’re people, when to the rest of the world that is so overshadowed by their image. How they’re so close, when so few would ever want or be able to get close to them. How important it is that they have that, in each other.

But their next exchange… hurts.

Lan Xichen: “Did you see it with your own eyes?” Lan Wangji: “He saw it with his own eyes.” Lan Xichen: “You believe Wei-gongzi?” Lan Wangji: “I do.” Lan Xichen: “And Jin Guangyao?” Lan Wangji: “He is not trustworthy.”

This feels… sharper in the original, like the back-and-forth and trust-and-distrust flows better, but the point is, it comes down to who they trust. The two of them trust each other, I think, but here they have to trust not just each other, but the one the other trusts.

And it hurts, to find themselves in this kind of conflict. To each want to trust the other completely, and trust the other’s judgement, but have to question it. Lan Xichen has to either doubt Jin Guangyao, or doubt Wei Wuxian and by extension doubt Lan Wangji’s trust in him. And Lan Wangji… well. Lan Wangji has made his choice, but it still can’t be easy to stand at conflict with his brother.

Lan Xichen: “Ah, Wangji. Then how do you judge whether someone is trustworthy or not?”

The wording isn’t the same but it reminds me of their conversation in 21, when Lan Wangji, lost and uncertain, asked his brother “are there set rules for everything in the world” and “then how can we judge a person?” (or “how can we know a person’s heart”) and Lan Xichen gave him the most thoughtful answer he could. This, right after Lan Xichen asked, gently and without using Wei Wuxian’s name, about the Yin Iron, and the Yiling office, and accepted Lan Wangji’s statement of “He would not do something like that.” Trusted his brother, despite his doubts. And ultimately… well. I’m not sure what came next would have really… felt like confirmation that that trust was well placed, is all I’m saying.

And now we get something of a reversal of that, and I can’t help but think they probably both recognise it.

Lan Xichen: “you trust Wei-gongzi; similarly, I trust Jin Guangyao.”

And that’s it, isn’t it? Lan Wangji’s trust in Wei Wuxian, as we have seen, as he has said in so many beautiful ways, is absolute. But Lan Xichen trusts Jin Guangyao the same way, and just as Lan Wangji regretted not trusting Wei Wuxian fully before, and remembered that cliffside conversation, I think Lan Xichen hates that he had to show suspicion to Jin Guangyao in that room. That while Jin Guangyao held Qin Su’s body and looked at all of them in anguish, Lan Xichen couldn’t be entirely by his side.

Lan Xichen: “You believe in your judgement. Am I not allowed to believe in my judgement?”

This is… close to the harshest we’ve seen Lan Xichen, especially with Lan Wangji. And this shift from a fond ‘what am I going to do with you’ to this question that cuts to the heart of who they are and who they trust…

They both know the feeling of trusting someone whom others suspect or hate, know that not everything is black and white, but now it pulls them in different directions.

And the problem is that there’s no way to square this circle, no way for someone to not end up betrayed.

On another note, I have to respect the absolute power move in Lan Xichen having this conversation in front of Wei Wuxian. It’s. Hm. I mean. It’s not quite a shovel talk.

But it’s very in keeping with the way Lan Xichen plays politics. He’s not cruel, or underhanded, and I wouldn’t even quite call him manipulative, but he has this quiet power that he uses with great care, this gentleness he can wield like a sword. It’s turning honesty and openness into political tools, which. Is pretty fucking impressive.

It’s Wei Wuxian who finally cuts in, with nothing more than a “Lan-zongzhu” and Lan Xichen immediately falls back into that perfect Lan sect leader deliberate, detached calm and promises that he will not endanger Wei Wuxian. Which. That’s not even remotely near the top of Wei Wuxian’s list of concerns, if it’s on there at all.

(And watching Lan Xichen withdraw back into that cool neutrality hurts almost more now that we’ve seen what is beneath it, heard him almost angry and almost pleading with his brother, the one person with whom he can show even that much of his true feelings).

But Wei Wuxian’s offering proof. He knows this isn’t going to be resolved with mere trust, and wouldn’t even feel justified in asking Lan Xichen to trust him; it’s strange enough for him to realise how unwavering Lan Wangji’s trust is.

Netflix. I am begging you. Please can you just. Choose a translation for 走火入魔 and stick with it?

Lan Xichen’s smile now is one of ‘I am about five seconds from losing the last of my very great reserve of patience; do not test me’.

Song of Clarity, Minor Variation is pretty good evidence, considering what they have to work with.

Because thing is, Lan Xichen, Wei Wuxian is rather absurdly talented, which I’m sure you remember from his Gusu days; he didn’t play a portion of this incorrectly because it’s difficult. He played perfectly, from memory after hearing it briefly in a high-stress Empathy flashback that made Lan Wangji concerned enough for his wellbeing that he started playing music for him, the variant that Jin Guangyao played Nie Mingjue.

But then, Wei Wuxian has always had an excellent memory for this kind of content. It’s other things he forgets. Like his own kindnesses. Or pain. Or Jin Zixun’s name.

And now Lan Xichen is not just humouring them with quickly-thinning patience. This is not the Song of Clarity he taught to Jin Guangyao, so either Wei Wuxian is embarking on a particularly elaborate lie, or.

(I also love that this is all happening with Wei Wuxian in, like, loungewear).

It’s Lan Xichen who leads them to the library. He trusts Jin Guangyao but he is doing his absolute utmost to be fair, to consider their evidence and their suspicions, and not shut them down when there is evidence to follow. Instead he leads them to where they can all try to learn more.

And this for someone he feels more or less the same way about as Lan Wangji does about Wei Wuxian. Like. Lan Wangji knelt steadfast in the snow for his trust in Wei Wuxian, but Lan Xichen instead has to do this.

And it is Lan Xichen who finds the Collection of Turmoil, and hands it without a word to Lan Wangji.

Lan Xichen who explains the origin and purpose and power of the Collection of Turmoil to Wei Wuxian.

Can he have a hug now?

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#love how this whole episode is just.#theme and variation on the past.#the untamed #neuxue liveblogs the untamed #cql

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