#wangsangxian

[faewaren]

Handy infographics for wangxian feat. whoever you want to put in there. Rubbing my polyamorous hands all over them.

I THINK this must be the three most common ones. Who else do people put in there?

I am not a photoshop professional. This is obvious. However I must spread my agendas.

#wangxian #zhanchengxian #wangningxian #wangsangxian #wangchengxian #the untamed #i. truly do not know the tag for huiasang in there. #wangsangxian sounds like it would make SENSE but i do not kNOW. #anyway. polycule times forever and ever. #re: jiang cheng i really enjoy both interpretations of him and wwx as brothers or as two guys who are so weird about each other. #there are many possible headcanons and they can contradict and you can explore them in different ways. #many good possibilities.

[pastelcheckereddreams]

It's so early that it's still dark, and even Lan Wangji shows no signs of stirring. 

Huaisang doesn't know the exact time he had given up trying to sleep and slipped from the bed, his head still reeling from Lan Jingyi’s words. He only rouses from his thoughts as the distant gong signals the start of the fifth watch, realising he has passed much of the night lost in thought.  

He sighs heavily and shakes himself, finally lighting the candle at his vanity with a thin thread of qi - not something he would normally do, but unwilling to strike a match and break the cocoon of his solitude. 

The black wood under his elbows softens in the dim glow of the new flame. Sleep will not come again tonight, and Huaisang reasons that he can slip away until daybreak. 

(A scene from my still very disorganised sangwangxian agenda. At this point, the context is probably something like ‘Wei Wuxian decided to take the juniors on a night hunt in Qinghe to see his husband and Nie Huaisang has feelings about thirdwheeling in his own bed’ or something. 

...Actually it’s like half- that and half-grappling with All His Feelings in general. I don’t know, I haven’t actually wrote any plot for it yet. I just know that Jingyi or maybe Jin Ling says something about Mo Xuanyu ((because wow let’s absolutely explore his lover wearing the face of the kid who Nie Huaisang may have pushed into killing themself to resurrect him)), or maybe Nie Huaisang is actually nervous about meeting Sizhui ((because it’s one thing to suspect he was the little Wen kid in the Burial Mounds, but another to be told about it by Wei Wuxian and then have to face up to the fact that your older brother had a hand in enslaving and ending the kid’s entire sect, and now you’re fucking the kid’s parents.)) 

I’m having so much fun with this 😂 Can you tell I’m having fun?)  

[continued]

Washing briefly in the basin left from the evening before, Huaisang dresses plainly, shrugging on only one extra layer to beat back the chill of the autumn night. He is careful not to wake the two men still slumbering in his bed.

And yet, just as he is fastening one of his last braids in place over his guan, he jumps as a hand comes to rest on his shoulder. 

"Huaisang." 

"Ah-!" 

Huaisang's hands fall into his lap as his eyes find Wangji's in the mirror."Wangji-xiong," he says, voice tipped low to match Wangji's own. "You're up early." 

Wangji's eyes don't leave Huaisang’s as he inclines his head in acknowledgement. "As are you.”  

His tone is neutral, but his eyes are soft around the edges - asking, searching. The weight of Wangji's hand against his shoulder is still both foreign and comforting, and something immediately sticks in Huaisang's throat.  

He reaches for his final pin instead of answering, sweeping his hair over one shoulder to fasten his thinnest braid behind his ear. He feels Wangji's fingers shift, heavy and lingering, and for one wild moment Huaisang imagines Wangji wants to do this for him - feel Huaisang’s hair running through his fingers, the beat of his pulse beneath his fingertips - and Huaisang- 

Huaisang sucks in a harsh breath, trying to stop his lungs from tearing on the jagged emotions that are suddenly too big for his chest. 

"Huaisang.” Wangji’s voice is low and coaxing as his thumb brushes against the bare skin above his collar. Huaisang fears the other man can feel his racing pulse. "Come back to bed." 

Hearing his name so unadorned, so earnest, in Wangji’s low tone makes Huaisang suddenly wish for Dage. Squeezing his eyes shut, Huaisang huffs another steadying breath. His eyes sting hotly, horrifyingly damp, and his hands itch for his fan. He daren't look Wangji in the eyes, afraid of what his own expression might betray; afraid of what he might see. 

Wangji just waits for his words to come. All the while, his hand is a solid, steady presence on Huaisang’s shoulder. 

But a sudden, sleep-clouded grumble floats from the bedchamber, amid the shifting of bed sheets. “"Lan Zhannn... A’Sang... S'cold..." 

Huaisang shoves the tangle of complicated emotions down into his gut. He jumps up with a strained laugh, and sweeps his fan up from the vanity, dislodging Wangji’s hand. 

"Go to your husband, Wangji-xiong," he says. 

#nikkiwrites #my sangwangxian agenda #it's alive and well folks #and yes i'm still eyeball deep in the sangwang emotional groundwork #there's just so much trauma and morality and potential history to play with #sangwang #nie huaisang #lan wangji #sangwangxian #wangsangxian #mdzs fic #cql fic #the untamed fic #nhs whump #nie huaisang whump #wangsang

[rainingskyguy]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Niè Huáisāng/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Niè Huáisāng/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Niè Huáisāng Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Hurt/Comfort, What Comes After Revenge, Loss of Purpose, Learning to live again, Niè Huáisāng Needs a Hug, Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian Wants to Help, Fixing Loose Ends, Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji has to be the emotionally intelligent one, he is also a tease, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD Summary:

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian meet Nie Huaisang again after the events at Guanyin Temple.

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wwx #wangxian #sangxian #wangsangxian #cql #Post canon

[foxcassius]

i'm rereading wangsangningxianxuan and i'm having so much fun. i dont normally like rereading chapter 1 bc to me it feels Too dramatic in hindsight, but i mean its nie huaisang so what are you gonna do, but because i dont like reading chapter 1 its been a while since i reread all of it until today when i just went what if.......i skip chapter 1. so i did and im mcloving it wsnxx is such a good fic

#i really really like the wangsangxian in the first three chapters i reallyyyy love them #BUT. the story pops OFF when wen ning shows up lets be real #t

[meanderfall]

me finding the ways nhs and wwx are similar to each other in order to justify why wangsang could work and be really cute together

#wangsang #to clarify im not trying to justify to the fandom in any way shape or form #it's actually to justify to lwj why he could possibly like nhs #listen it's not MY fault lwj falls into One True Love ok and if i want it to be in-character i gotta find the ways lwj loves wwx #so that lwj loves nhs and it feels like it makes sense you get me? #wangsangxian is super cute too imo #i gotta so many ideas for wangsang and wangsangxian percolating

[piosplayhouse]

respect to people who break up wangxian for variety pairings but I don't like seeing lwj sad so usually I just add another guy in there for spice . sorry it's a lil toxic but I have to speak my truth . Wangningxian and wangsangxian and wangchengxian are tasty

[nillegible]

[ @marsdiogenes this one is for you! It’s only a piece of the fic I was trying to write you, but I think I’ve given up on it. I hope you like it! (It’s WangSang-ish?) ]

Zewu Jun always sends Hanguang Jun to Qinghe in his place, unless there’s a Cultivation Conference that necessitates the presence of Sect Leader Lan. And Nie Huaisang does not begrudge his Er-ge for being too much of a coward to return to the place where he had watched his brother die.

(Okay he does, a little. Huaisang still lives here. He still walks down the same corridors that Da-ge had run through, crazed and murderous. He sometimes stands in silence where Ma Ziyuan’s blood had pooled around his crumpled body, one of the several Nie cultivators who had died in da-ge’s rampage, mistaken for Jin Guangyao in Da-ge’s final moments. Huaisang still crosses the courtyard where his Da-ge had. Where he had…

So he does begrudge Er-ge, a little.)

But Lan Wangji comes in his place and truly there’s little difference between the Jades to set one above the other but age, so Hanguang Jun is welcomed with the courtesy owed a Sect Leader whenever he arrives on Lan business. It’s Huaisang’s own fault for knocking on Lan Wangji’s door after curfew, holding jars of wine.

That even the very first time he’d done this, Lan Wangji had just looked at him, really looked at him, then let him inside without protest is depressing. It implies that Nie Huaisang is more unravelled than he realized. But Nie Huaisang is grateful for the company, even if it’s out of pity.

Lan Wangji does not provide much conversation, and he’s not initially the best company, silently sipping his tea while Huaisang drinks his wine. It’s not an apathetic silence though, there’s a shared grief, a shared fury that’s so present that Nie Huaisang should probably bring it cups for its own share of the wine next time.

Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the loneliness that is barely alleviated by these occasional meetings, maybe Nie Huaisang is just petty enough to want his guest to wallow in the same kind of grief that he is, so Nie Huaisang says, “Jiang-xiong refuses to even speak his name.”

If it works, Huaisang does not know because Lan Wangji’s face doesn’t change.

“Did you love him?” Lan Wangji asks, and Nie Huaisang nearly chokes. It wasn’t like that, it was the Second Jade of Lan that Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian had both ogled appreciatively, had crushed on from a distance, and yet.

He doesn’t know if Lan Wangji is so incredibly perceptive, or if he’s so much a fool that he cannot imagine anyone not being in love with Wei Wuxian.

Nie Huaisang remembers laughing grey eyes on a boy who was more alive than anyone else he had ever known, who would bring emperor’s smile into the Cloud Recesses defiantly, and spend the whole time he was drunk talking about a certain unsmiling Lan while Nie Huaisang giggled.

Yes, of course I loved him, he could say. Was it possible to meet him and not fall halfway in love?

No, he could say. If I loved him, I’d be broken like you.

Nie Huaisang regrets many things, but not checking in with his friends Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian after the war is one of his greatest.

He doesn’t answer for the longest time, cannot, because Lan Wangji does not like lies, and Nie Huaisang does not know the truth himself. He takes another sip of wine.

“To watch with your own eyes your beloved be trampled and ridiculed, yet be unable to do anything,” Nie Huaisang recites instead. He knows that Lan Wangji knows the line. Nie Huaisang had lent him the books himself. Lan Wangji nods, accepting the not-answer. It’s not Wei Wuxian, but his brother’s dying, broken body that Nie Huaisang thinks of as he closes his eyes against the weight of memory. Of failure.

The soft lips that press against his are an acceptable distraction, though Nie Huaisang makes a poor substitute for Wei Wuxian.

The dead are gone though, and it’s up to them to take what solace they can, from whoever is left alive. Nie Huaisang blinks up at those liquid gold eyes as he’s pulled into Lan Wangji’s lap, reaches up to trace the familiar line of Lan Wangji’s jaw as he leans down for another kiss.

Nie Huaisang is not the man Lan Wangji wants, but he’s the one he gets. Isn’t this love? Nie Huaisang wonders, clinging to the warmth of him. I want you to stay forever, is that not enough?

#mars #wangsang #wangsangxian #i'm sorry wwx is just such a diva #I couldn't leave him out XD

[encling]

i just love wangji and nie huaisang together so much, even without the addition of wei wuxian (though i am very, VERY fond of the three of them together). when wei wuxian dies they are the only two who care enough about him and little enough about public opinion to actually. mourn him. he was the only friend either of them ever really had (aside from jiang wanyin for nie huaisang but i think he pretty much Shut Downs to any outside relationship after nightless city or the burial mounds massacre, depending on which canon you go by). and the concept of lan wangji staying in the unclean realm while he is chasing chaos and avoiding his ghosts while indeed actively searching for them too, the two of them growing slowly entangled with each other, still tender hearted and wounded. they are almost something before nie mingjue dies and for lan wangji it is like the death of a lover all over again with the way nie huaisang shuts down and out. he is alone again. when wei ying comes back, when his revenge is completed, there is a question posed with two hands twined and one reaching to mend the gap of years and grief.

#hm this went off the rails 🤷‍♂️ #wansang #wangsang #wangsangxian #i like wansang better than wangsang. it fits in the mouth better ok #meta #mdzs #lan wangji #nie huaisang

[ftcoye]

[Ao3 Link.]

Lan Wangji does not touch others often.

It is not a fact that would strike many others as strange – he is the ice cold Hanguang-Jun, separate from others, seeming to be carved out of jade. Yet… that does not mean he does not enjoy it.

His students, he touches on occasion. A hand on the shoulder for a job well done. It makes their eyes alight, makes them flush with pride, and it brings him great joy.

Sizhui is his son – he was not someone who grew up with many embraces, from his brother on occasions only, and he makes sure that his A-Yuan and then his Sizhui has never wanted for such. That he has always known that there is a safe place for him within his father’s arms, should he want it, that he need never fear to reach out and touch, that he will always be accepted. Sizhui is not overly physically affectionate, but he knows he can be if he wishes, and that is what matters.

When he was a child, he hugged his mother – when she was gone, and he a little older, the only one whom he touched was his brother. He still does, of course, but it is different. Long gone are the days in which they would hug each other, curl up in bed together as brothers, just a few years apart and so achingly close.

He loves his brother dearly, still considers him to be one of his most important people, but he is not so achingly close, and touches restrict themselves to the occasional touch to the back, his brother setting a hand on his shoulder.

The others are like drops in a lake. Ripples. Quiet and calm – affecting, but not greatly so.

Wei Ying and Huaisang are sweeping waves.

They are whirlwinds of energy, of touch – in different ways, in very different ways, but they came into his life like a storm, left just as suddenly, and now are here to return, an endless wind that churns the lake, and Lan Wangji revels in it.

He likes touch – he likes to be able to reach out to those he cares about, feel their warmth, the signs of them breathing, perhaps even their heartbeats under his fingers. But he is… not used to it. Not in this way. Not with them.

They are patient, and he loves them for it.

---

They tug him by the wrist.

Wraps their fingers around his wrist and pull him, gently or not-so-gently, and he always allows himself to be led. Huaisang used to lead him this way when they were children. When he and his brother visited Qinghe Nie, he would wrap his arms around Lan Wangji’s wrist and pull him carefully and they would walk. He liked to show him around – like to explain the architecture, the paintings, the history, and Lan Wangji would dutifully listen. “Lan Zhan,” he would ask periodically, anxious and wanting to be sure, wanting to keep this friend. “Is this okay?” And Lan Wangji would always tell him yes.

Wei Ying wraps his fingers around his wrist and tugs so hard Lan Wangji has to run, sometimes, to keep pace. “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, come look at this!” he yells, tugging and pulling, as if Lan Wangji will not come if he simply asks, as if he needs to latch onto his wrist and not let go to be able to get him to see whatever it is, do whatever it is he wishes to do. Lan Wangji does not tell him this – he does not wish to change it, and perhaps Wei Ying does know and does not care.

He wonders if they can feel his heartbeat under their fingertips. If their thumbs rest just right to feel that flutter, to feel the beat of his soul as he’s touched by the two that he loves.

They hold hands.

It’s strange, the first time it happens. Wei Ying on his right and Huaisang on his left. They glance at each other and then, easy as breathing, slip their hands into his. He- pauses. He misses a step, just a faint little stumble that probably only they notice.

They interlace their fingers together, and Lan Wangji’s breath comes short, fast, and he wonders if they can feel the way his head reels through the touch, if the palm against palm is as hot as it seems. Wei Ying swings their hands, chatting merrily, pumping them up and down as he grins at Lan Wangji, each step more a skip than a walk.

Huaisang is more serene about it – when Lan Wangji looks at him, he lifts his eyebrows in a silent question of Is this okay? Lan Wangji doesn’t know if he can verbalize a response, can even give a little nod, but both of them can read him. Both of them know him, know the minute movements of his face, and Huaisang smiles as well and squeezes his hand.

They walk, hand in hand – and yes, a few stare. Even though all know how important they are, how highly he regards both Wei Ying and Huaisang, knowing he holds them in esteem and holding hands with them are two different things, two different factors.

But the juniors do not care. Their eyes light up when they spot them, spot the three hand in hand, and Wei Ying laughs and waves eagerly with his free hand, summoning them, as Huaisang hides behind his fan with a grin of his own.

Lan Wangji has no hands to motion, no hands free to hide his face if he so wishes.

He has no desire to.

Instead, he squeezes the hands of both of his beloveds, and lets himself smile, just slightly, as the juniors approach.

---

He knows hugs – knows embraces. Knows the warmth of someone wrapping their arms around you and holding you close, even if it has been years since he has received one like that.

Sizhui has hugged him. He thinks that Sizhui is the only one that has hugged him in the last decade, more than a decade, until Wei Ying returned from the dead and shot himself back into Lan Wangji’s life. Of course, Sizhui’s hugs were not the same as his mother’s. Hugging your child… you’re enfolding them, keeping them safe, holding them tight – not the other way around. And even when Wei Ying did return, did vault out of the past in another man’s body with a flute to his lips and a sparkle in his eye – his hugs were not like that, but for Lan Wangji to shield him. To protect him. (From dogs, primarily.)

In the morning, Lan Wangji awakens first – this is how it always is. He awakens, perfectly on time in according to the Gusu rules, even though he is not currently in Gusu.

Huaisang is always second – later to rise than Lan Wangji by a few hours, getting up at a respectable time of seven, emerging to give him a smile. He is often not functional for a few minutes, until he has drank some tea and eaten a little, but he is conscious. Wei Ying, of course, is last, dragging himself out of bed with a groan at nine.

So it is one morning, in the hours in Qinghe when it is just Lan Wangji and Huaisang, that the other hugs him.

Lan Wangji does not know what inspires it. Huaisang appears to have been thinking, thoughtfully and carefully. He is not an open book like Wei Ying often is – Lan Wangji cannot always tell what is on his mind, but he trusts him to share if it is necessary.

And sure enough, he does. They sip their tea, the morning rays illuminating his love gently from behind, when Huaisang sets down his cup and looks steadily at Lan Wangji. “Lan Zhan,” he asks, his words thoughtful – he is the least impulsive of the three of them, the least likely to make a snap decision. “May I hug you?”

To say that Lan Wangji does not startle would be a lie – he does. His startlement is more of a still, the cup paused partway in its rise to his lips, and he blinks at Huaisang once, twice. “Only if you’d like,” he says, as if there was anything that Lan Wangi could possibly like more.

He sets his cup down. Gives a careful nod. “I would like,” he says, and Huaisang enfolds him.

Huaisang pulls him down, as the shortest of the three, wrapping his arms around him and letting Lan Wangji gently rest his head on his shoulder, cheek pressing against the material of his robe. It is… it is good. Soft. Not just the fabric but the feel of Huaisang’s fingers curling in Lan Wangji’s own robe, the little breaths of the other that stir his hair, warm his neck, the quiet little hum that Huaisang lets out as he reaches up with one hand to curl in Lan Wangji’s hair. It is… good. Welcome.

He has not been held like this for a long time, and if tears prick at his eyes and wet Huaisang’s robes, the man says nothing.

---

When Wei Ying holds him, it is done with much less ceremony.

There are days when it is… it is difficult. He needs to rouse himself often in the night to reach across, to reassure himself that Wei Ying is here, that he is alive. That he needs to look for the rise of his chest, the simple breaths and exhales.

Seeing Huaisang is less a reminder that he is alive and more a reminder that he is here, that both of this men are truly here by his side and that this is not some wild dream he has concocted that will fade like the mist when he awakes, where he and Huaisang have never done more than greet each other like old classmates and Wei Ying is still gone from this earth.

So sometimes he wakes and has to check to make sure that Wei Ying is breathing – and one time, Wei Ying wakes as well.

“Lan Zhan?” he asks quietly, sleepily, as Lan Wangji leans over him. “What’s wrong?”

He cannot lie to him, even if he wishes, and so Lan Wangji tries to find words that will reassure him and send him back to sleep, but they stick in his throat – he’s never been good at putting emotions, thoughts into words, into statements that others will truly understand.

Wei Ying is one of the few that can read him, though, and whatever his face is doing, it’s enough to make Wei Ying reach for him. (Or perhaps Wei Ying simply wants to reach for him – either thought is enough to delight Lan Wangji.)

He reaches for him, pulling Lan Wangji gently down on top of him and wrapping one arm around his shoulders, the other cradling his head as he places his head directly on his chest. “The heartbeat, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, his words slurred with the sleep that he will soon fall into once more, but he is warm, every part of Lan Wangji seeping with that gentle warmth where they touch – like a fire in winter, a soothing warmth, a soothing heat. “Listen to my heartbeat, okay?”

Wei Ying slips away, once more, but his hold does not fade – he embraces Lan Wangji, holds him close, carefully and cherished and loved, and Lan Wangji listens to his heart against his ear, beating in time with his own.

---

When they sleep, no one is ever alone – there are never any partners nor pairs, never any single beds nor nights spent apart. Not anymore. Not when they have taken so long to get to this point.

Sometimes Wei Ying is in the middle. He throws his limbs askew, curves an arm over one of them and a leg over the other, drooling on someone else’s pillow as he snuggles into someone. He twitches in his sleep, sometimes, wriggles or maybe says some words, but it is no bother. Nothing can ever be a bother, not after so long without him.

Sometimes Huaisang is in the middle. He likes to be held, or be on top of another, warm and content. He wakes easily to noise, to movement, but sleeps easily just as well, shifting between the two as easily as breathing. He buries his face in Wei Ying’s chest, or Lan Wangji’s neck, breathing warm and hot as it spills over whoever it may be, the other person with a hand hooked around the crook of their arm, tucked into his back, holding him all the same.

Sometimes, it is Lan Wangji.

He cares little for how he sleeps, for the exact arrangement. Perhaps he will be on his back, both of them curled into him from either side. Perhaps one will lie on top of him – perhaps he will be on top of someone else. Legs may cross or they may not, hands may curl together, pillows may be shared – breathing may ghost across another’s skin or maybe it will be a back to him, instead, warm against him.

The only thing Lan Wangji requires is both of them – is each of his loves, however they want to be, with him.

He will never be bereft of them again.

#lan wangji #wei wuxian #nie huaisang #wangsangxian #wangxian #wangsang #wei ying #lan zhan #mdzs

[boxofdice]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Niè Huáisāng/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn Characters: Niè Huáisāng, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī Additional Tags: Eldritch, POV Niè Huáisāng, Eldritch Niè Huáisāng, Eldritch Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Eldritch Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, IN SPACE!, Outer Space, Polyamory, Fluffy Ending, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Blanket Permission On My Profile Series: Part 2 of (Originally for) February Ficlet Challenge 2021 Summary:

Huaisang finds him curled around a star about to go supernova.

Or: all three are eldritch beings moving through space like elder gods.

#wangsangxian #eldritch au #polyam relationship #polyam ship

[angstymdzsthoughts]

(modern WangSangXian 1/3) One day Lxc comes to Jgy for help because he has a problem. He found out that two different people are texting Lwj for Valentine’s Day plans separately. He suspects that Lwj is cheating on them. Jgy, for obvious reasons, does not like this and agrees to help. They confront Lwj but Lwj (who has not yet come out as being gay or poly) denies everything and deletes all the evidence. Jgy, now incensed, somehow manages to find out Wwx and Nhs’ numbers. He tells them both

(modern WangSangXian 2/3) that Lwj is cheating on them…separately. He also, out of pure spite and rage, does as much manipulation as he can manage to turn them against Lwj. Wwx and Nhs had both been under the impression that Lwj already told his family and friends about their relationship, so they have no idea what Jgy is doing. It all comes to a head and Lwj reveals that they’re all in a poly relationship and it’s all a misunderstanding…but the damage has already been done.

(modern WangSangXian 3/3) Wwx and Nhs both “take a break” from Lwj, but the two of them still stay together. Lwj is no longer on speaking terms with Lxc. Lxc is resentful of Jgy, but he’s also an optimist so he tries his best to mend their relationship. It’s very obviously not working on his part, and Jgy eventually loses his best (only) friend. But, hey, at least one good thing did come out of it: Jgy learned to stop using manipulation as his go-to tactic!

#lack of reply #Lan Wangji #Lan Xichen #Jin Guangyao #Wei Wuxian #nie huaisang #mdzs

[pastelcheckereddreams]

They say Hanguang-jun goes where the trouble is, goes wherever people need saving. It is, Huaisang thinks, a baseless lie, because Lan Wangji has done nothing but hang around Qinghe for the last two weeks.

Whatever, Huaisang thinks. He has border disputes to settle and training rotas to organize, and if Lan Wangji wants to sit through that, then fine. It's no setback.

Nie Huaisang starts to drift through life - adjacent to it - and withdraws into his fortress. He eats less, paints more. He walks at night. If it takes him to Xinglu Ridge, then no one has to know. The quiet helps him think. 

But then the change in seasons brings with it Hanguang-jun.

(This is a small snippet from my self-gratuitous doc of sangwangxian drabbles. I’ve been thinking a lot recently about Lan Wangji and Nie Huaisang: what history they may have together pre-canon; their similarities; and how they may find companionship in one another while navigating the tricky post-canon baggage caused by Huaisang’s decade-long revenge. I’ve also been thinking about brothers, duty and justice, and how, when you strip the Twin Jades and the Nie brothers down to their deepest core values, they aren’t so different after all.)

Lan Wangji had always admired Nie Mingjue's drive for justice; a righteousness unswayed by the promise of power or fancy. It was, after all, the quality that won him Gusu Lan, Yunmeng Jiang and Lanling Jin's allegiance in the Sunshot Campaign. As muddied as the political waters became in the aftermath of that war, Wangji could not fault the convictions that drew them all together against the atrocities committed by Wen Ruohan. 

Though propriety dictated he never admit so out loud, Wangji had always thought the Second Young Master of Qinghe Nie lacked the same steadfastness, and the same moral convictions as his brother. He remembers with clarity the first day of their shared tutelage in Cloud Recesses - the twittering bird Nie-er-gongzi kept up his sleeve. 

Wangji has often thought of Nie Huaisang as having much the same temperament as that bird: at first, young as they were, he thought the Second Young Master to be shrill and flighty, bright, but ultimately uninspiring. Even though they were in acquaintance from a young age - hanging onto the sleeves of their older brothers and as such generally herded off together when it was the adults’ time to talk - this impression was the one that stuck the most in Lan Wangji’s mind.  

But now, this evening, with the night quiet and still around them, Wangji contemplates the liquid amber of his tea and watches Nie Huaisang from the corner of his eye. He is quiet with his own thoughts, and without the coquettish flutter of his fan he is quite still. 

The candle is burning low between them, smoke spiralling lazily from the incense burner. Without meaning to, Wangji finds his gaze drawn to the shimmer of Huaisang's eyelashes in the soft light, the careful way he holds his sleeve back as he refills both their cups. 

His movements are graceful, measured. There is a stillness to his core that Wangji has never noticed before, and in that moment that caged bird flashes before his eyes again, unbidden. 

Huaisang’s shoulders are a weary slope beneath his soft grey robes. It is a quiet, permanent grief. 

(Wangji has a sudden, unexpected pang of déjà vu: the urge to pile rabbits in a crying Huaisang’s lap, wanting to chase away the younger boy’s grief with a childlike earnestness.) 

It is a weight Wangji himself has learnt to carry well. 

He does not wonder how Huaisang hid it all these years. He wonders, instead, at his own blindness. 

"Wei Ying," Huaisang says. 

Wangji does not startle. He is familiar now with Huaisang’s xiangqi strategy. 

Sensing this, Huaisang slants a somewhat familiar grin at him across the table, but the stillness of before does not leave. Wangji wonders if it ever will again. 

"That is who you're here to ask about, am I correct?" 

Wangji raises an eyebrow at the assumption. "Not Jin Guangyao?" he prompts, an unusual utterance for his usual stoicism.

The Headshaker laughs quietly, tilting his head back. The candlelight flickers over his throat. 

Wangji does not miss the way his hand flexes on the table, as if to reach for his fan. 

"Jin Guangyao is of no interest to you, Wangji-xiong," Huaisang says confidently, before his mouth twists again; a wry little thing that seems familiar to Wangji. "That is where we should begin, though, I suppose. With Meng Yao." 

Wangji, however, shakes his head. "How long?" 

"Hm?"

"How long were you planning to use Mo Xuanyu?"

The surprise is not a victory. In the split second before it melts quickly from his face, Wangji sees the wince Huaisang tries to disguise. It is, perhaps, something Huaisang did not anticipate - that Wangji would know or care much about the fate of one of Jin Guangshan’s bastards. In that split second, Wangji is once again reminded of the differences between the two Nie brothers: of the difference between justice and retribution.

Huaisang recovers quickly, of course.

“Aiyah, Hanguang-jun! Will every question be an accusation? You should know better than to interrupt. Take one last pity on this humble cultivator, pass your judgement after the tale is done." 

Wangji blinks. The last sentence is muttered into a cup, but behind its rim Huaisang is making that face again - his lips and eyebrows downturned - and the realisation winds Wangji like a hit to the solar plexus. 

Wei Ying used to make the same face, whenever Wangji brought up his demonic cultivation. Is that what Wangji is doing here, again? Passing judgement that suits his own perspective?

Wangji bows his head. A familiar image flashes across his memory: Wei Ying, falling.  Not again.

His husband’s words rise unbidden in his mind: “Please go to him, Lan Zhan.” 

Wei Ying knows the look of someone hurling themselves towards a cliff edge. 

Lan Wangji does, too.

[TBC?]

#nikkiwrites #my sangwangxian agenda #it's alive and well folks #it's nhs whump hours #nie huaisang #lan wangji #wei wuxian #fic drabble #ficlet #tumblr fic #sangwangxian #wangsangxian #wangsang #sangwang

[rainingskyguy]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Niè Huáisāng/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Niè Huáisāng/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Niè Huáisāng Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Hurt/Comfort, What Comes After Revenge, Loss of Purpose, Learning to live again, Niè Huáisāng Needs a Hug, Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian Wants to Help, Fixing Loose Ends, Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji has to be the emotionally intelligent one, he is also a tease, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD Summary:

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian meet Nie Huaisang again after the events at Guanyin Temple.

#mdzs #cql #wangxian #wangsangxian #wangxiansang #sangxianwang #idk whats the ship name #anyway #nhs #wwx #lwj

[pastelcheckereddreams]

Huaisang has suffered with headaches since he was a child. These headaches have haunted Huaisang for a long time - the idea that they might be linked to qi deviation was the very last rumour the Headshaker needed during the decade he spent orchestrating Jin Guangyao’s demise. Fortunately, holing himself up for a week in his rooms wasn't a big deal. It wasn’t like he took his Sect duties very seriously. 

But now, Lan Wangji of all people is dogging his heels, and Huaisang feels like Wangji-xiong, however oddly, is - in that silently omnipresent way of his - insisting on spending time with him. He's also pretty sure Wei-xiong has a paperman spying on him. 

So if he locks himself away with a headache, he’s pretty sure Wangji and Wei-xiong will get suspicious. And it’s really not their problem. Not even if it happens at Lanling Jin Rulan’s first cultivation conference. Especially not then.

But here they all are.

(This got... out of hand. A self-indulgent headache headcanon gained (pre)plot and attached itself to my sangwangxian agenda. Yes, I may be playing fast and loose with postcanon and precanon timeline, but idgaf. Roll with it, enjoy.)

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

The change of seasons also brings the headaches Huaisang has suffered with since he was a child. Usually the pain lingers around his eye, causing it to throb and swell as the pain takes hold. Day after day, for a week at a time, his awareness narrows down to the waves of hot, feverish pain that carry him through the night, and he can’t do much more than armour himself with remedies and relaxants until they subside. These attacks don’t occur often, but they're debilitating. In their wake, he is left feeling sick and shaken, and yet he doesn't tell anyone about them. 

This is because there is an image of his father seared into his memory: Sect Leader Nie, suddenly bedridden, writhes in the crack of light that pierces his room from the open doorway. Huaisang is barely eight years old, and is terrified by his father’s groans of pain. 

He runs from the room and refuses to see his father for days afterwards. 

Although a relation between these events has never been proven, Huaisang’s father dies mere weeks later. However, by that time Huaisang has already been sent to Gusu, to reside in the care of Lan Qiren and his nephews for what would become Sect Leader Nie’s final days. 

So these headaches have haunted Huaisang for a long time. Dage certainly never spoke of them, never really acknowledged Huaisang’s pain, and the idea that they might be linked to qi deviation was the very last rumour the Headshaker needed during the decade he spent orchestrating Jin Guangyao’s demise. Fortunately, holing himself up for a week in his rooms wasn't a big deal. It wasn’t like he took his Sect duties very seriously. 

But now, Lan Wangji of all people is dogging his heels, and Huaisang feels like Wangji-xiong, however oddly, is - in that silently omnipresent way of his - insisting on spending time with him. 

He's also pretty sure Wei-xiong has a paper man spying on him. More often than not, if he wanders off for a few days, he finds one of these men will cross paths with him. He should be infuriated. He was, the first time. Were they truly still suspicious of him?

But watching a paper man tuck itself inside Wangji’s robes when they take tea; catching one leafing through the old yellow books he still keeps under his bed; even finding Jiang Cheng bickering with supposedly no one, snatching something reflexively to his chest as Huaisang steps into view - Huaisang finds his heart warming instead, in a way that leaves him feeling a little fragile and nostalgic, seeing Wei Wuxian up to his childhood antics. 

It strips the years away, and he finds he can look at Wei Wuxian without seeing Mo Xuanyu.      

So if he locks himself away with a headache, he’s pretty sure Wangji and Wei-xiong will get suspicious. And it’s really not their problem. Not even if it happens at Lanling Jin Rulan’s first cultivation conference. Especially not then. 

But here they all are. 

Everyone in attendance knows Nie Huaisang has never liked this place after the night Nie Mingjue died. It is no rumour that, after that day, he would drink his weight in alcohol whenever he was within the walls of Koi Tower.

So for Sect Leader Nie to depart early from the evening banquet is a slight that Jin Ling is happy to overlook. He secretly wishes he could slip out himself, considering the awkward glances Jiujiu keeps giving Wei-dajiu. Except this time, Jin Ling realises, Jiujiu keeps giving Wei-dajiu awkward glances because Wei-dajiu is distracted. 

Considering the way Hanguang-Jun seems unfazed, Jin Ling is not seriously worried, but whatever has Wei Wuxian fidgeting in his seat, he hopes it's nothing disruptive. 

(It was not - this is the only assurance Lan Sizhui will give him the next day, when Wei Wuxian and Sect Leader Nie are nowhere to be found at the start of the day’s itinerary. He will not elaborate further, to all of his friends’ dismay, but Jin Ling suspects he was correct to place the Nie delegation beside that of the Lan.)

Credit to Wei Wuxian, he makes it an hour before his mother hen instinct kicks in. 

"One of us should check on him," he says, leaning close to his partner amid the amicable noise of the banquet. 

Lan Zhan, bless him, does not say no. Instead, he places a reassuring hand over Wei Wuxian's. 

"Wei Ying, give him time," he says. 

Wei Wuxian purses his mouth, but turns his hand palm-up to slot their fingers together. His teeth start to worry his lower lip. 

"He looked pale."

"Mn."

"He's been quiet all day..." 

Wangji waits for him, lets the words come. It’s clear this has been on Wei Ying’s mind all afternoon

"....We shouldn't've made him come." 

"The decision was his," Wangji reminds him. Wei Ying concedes the point, but still chews his lip anxiously. 

“I don’t like it when he pushes himself,” he admits a few minutes later. He drops his gaze to their intertwined hands. There is an echo here of himself that he is not blind to.

Wangji squeezes his hand, a show of both acknowledgement and support even as he counters, “He did not show up for our sake alone. There is strength in his decision that deserves acknowledgement.” 

Wei Ying sighs, “I know,” he says, and raises Wangji’s knuckles briefly to his lips. “I just wish he saw it that way.”  

In the end, they do duck out early, but at a much more respectable time. Wei Wuxian makes a beeline for the rooms put aside for Qinghe Nie's delegation immediately, but - someone actually stops him. 

The Nie head disciple steps into his path, feet planted and posture as immovable as a mountain as she bows into the perfectly executed circle of her arms. 

"Wei-gongzi," she says curtly, before dipping slightly lower- “Hanguang-jun. Sect Leader is not to be disturbed. He bids you goodnight." 

Wei Wuxian gapes at her like a fish for the sudden dismissal, and so Wangji steps forward to fill his silence. "Sect Leader Nie is well?" 

The head disciple guards her master close. Lan Wangji knows this, having spent many weeks now in the Unclean Realm. So he is not surprised by her diplomatic response: "Please do not disturb his rest," Nie Suyin implores politely, and bows to them again. 

But Lan Wangij and Wei Wuxian do not turn away.

[TBC]

#my (very sporadic) #my sangwangxian agenda #sangwangxian #nikkiwrites #wangsangxian #it's nhs whump hours #pre-whump #technically #lan wangji #nie huaisang #wei wuxian #tumblr fic #tumblr headcanon #self indulgence time #playing fast and loose with postcanon #whump #nhs whump #nie huaisang whump