A beloved commission of Chengzhan sitting on a pier I asked Rounove to draw. It comes in a cute sunset and sunburned version! Based on a little fic of mine, but I can't tell you which, because that would be a spoiler.
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Jiang Cheng doesn't notice it until it's lunch and the classroom is empty, he's alone in the classroom, he -like most days from some time now- doesn't have an appetite.
He has sent both wwx and nhs to eat at the cafeteria with the promise that if they brought back some flavoured bread he would eat them. He knows they would skip going to the cafeteria in favour of just bringing a fuck ton of snacks back.
It's … very kind of them. He's gonna scowl at them still.
A small smile tugs on jc’s lips as he continues writing his literature assignment that's due next month. He makes a mistake (which is basically a slightly wonky line in his overall perfect handwriting). Groaning jc looks for his erasure. And ofc like alw it has magically disappeard. He looks around - in his pocket, pencil case, bag - and then finally looks under his desk.
He doesn't find his erasure but what he does find is a small folded square white paper. Frowning jc takes it out. It's folded too neatly for thrown rubbish.
A note?
His first thought is ofcourse; Wei Wuxian.
“What now?” Jc mumbles under his breath, a little confused why wwx is suddenly passing him notes instead of just saying what he wants to considering they sit next to eo. He unfolds the note.
//‘Your handwriting during chemistry notes is difficult to read.’//
He blinks. Once. Twice. And then scowls. Of course this is why that bastard is passing him notes.
He shoves the paper in his bag with a short mental reminder to slap wwx back for this bs. And then continues looking for his erasure.
He completely forgets about the paper and slapping wwx until the next day when he stretches his hand under the desk during class and feels something tiny. He takes it out to find an identical tiny neat white folded square paper. He frowns, side eyes wwx next to him doodling anime girls on his english worksheet instead of focusing on the lecture.
The note reads;
//You should bring an umbrella tomorrow.//
“That’s it?” jc mutters, turning towards wwx. The weathers been so bright lately wtv did the other mean by this.
Wwx hums not turning his face towards him but tilting his body sideways towards him, “what?”
Jc frowns, “what prank are you pulling here?”
That does make wwx turn his face towards him, “who's pulling what prank here didi?”
“Stop playing dumb.”
“I'm neither dumb nor do I play dumb. If anything, you are the one sounding dumb here.”
Jiang Cheng scowls ready to throw hands but before he could the teacher calls them out and sends them both out for talking during class.
It rains the next day.
Not a drizzle.
A downpour that leaves students stranded beneath the school awnings in clusters of damp uniforms, complaining loudly.
Jiang Cheng stands there holding the umbrella he’d almost forgotten to pack.
He stares at wwx who after giving him the reminder is himself umbrella-less.
“Didi~ where did you get that umbrella?”
“I brought it.”
“Eh? You did? Oh my god I didn't know chengcheng could feel the promotion of rain in his body!”
Jc frowns. He couldn't understand the joke here, he didn't understand what the other was getting from this prank. He wasn't even sure how this was a ‘prank’. Wasn't it a little too humour-less and harmless to be one?”
“Jiang cheng! You've an umbrella!? Walk me out pls!!” Nhs shouts from the other side running over to them.
“No! Chengcheng and I are walking back tgt under the umbrella!! There's no space for you sorry!”
He blinks as the other two engage in a useless argument. He watches nhs leave as his brother's car pulls up inside school gates and refuses the offer to be dropped off by them.
“Aww jc I alw knew you wanted to share an umbrella with me!” Wwx laughs as they watch the car leave. They step out themselves walking under the umbrella, the umbrella is too small to sheild two growing boys properly so both of there one side drenches wet, he doesn't really notice, busy telling wwx of as wwx snuggles closer and closer to him.
Jc thinks about the note the entire way home.
:::
The notes continue.
Sometimes practical.
//The teacher collects notebooks today.//
Sometimes irritatingly shrewish.
//Do not nibble on your pencil. It is unhealthy.//
Sometimes so strangely specific they leave Jiang Cheng unsettled for hours.
//You look tired lately.//
He never really throws any out, at first he was shoving them in his bag but as a week come to be he starts absentmindedly folding them and filing them away in his pencil pouch.
The notes follow to appear without fail into the next week.
Jiang Cheng catches himself looking for them, every morning, the moment he arrives. It's there. Which means whoever - he has grown a little doubtful that it's wwx now - is placing them under his desk puts it before jc even arrives.
He gets annoyed all by himself because of the mystery person and takes it out by shoving wwx into walls and lockers.
“What is wrong with you jiang cheng~ you're being so rough with me! Be gentle!! I'm fragile!” Wei Wuxian whines.
Jiang Cheng knows what's wrong with him, the mystery is eating at him.
He knows the practical solution is to come to school early and catch the person red handed but instead he rips a small not so neat piece of paper from his notebook, and writes;
//If you have this much time maybe get a hobby.//
He folds it up in a square and places it under his desk when the school ends before leaving.
The next morning, when jc unfolds the note it reads;
//I play guqin.//
He stares.
The answer somehow sounds so sincere he's left feeling utterly off kilter.
His thumb brushes the letters softly absentmindedly before he neatly folds it away into his pouch.
He places a reply before leaving school;
//You sound boring.//
And gets it answered the next day;
//I have been told this before.//
He doesn't reply back again to any other note, but he continues getting them. He knows he should investigate, find who this person is and what their motive is but for some reason he let's it be and by the end of second week it becomes something normal like brushing his teeth after waking up or scowling at wwx every time the other addresses him without thinking or petting a dog at the sight of it. Normal, natural, easily filed away.
At the end of second week, after a particularly awful phone call with his mother, he writes without thinking:
//Do you ever feel like people only notice when you fail at something?//
And places it under his desk.
The reply the next day is immediate.
//Yes.//
Jc ends up thinking about it for the rest of the weekend.
He's going to catch this person. Jc finally thinks as monday arrives, he wakes up at five and leaves his house at six, texting wwx to come to school on his own tdy.
Turns out it was useless since he finds the folded piece of paper already placed at it's designated place when he arrives. He scowls and is left bitter about ‘what kind of person arrives earlier then six??’ for the rest of the school day.
The next day he wakes up at five again and leaves without breakfast, running all the way to school in case he's late again.
He checks his desk and finds no note there yet. Good. He's managed to arrive early. He checks the time, 5:23.
He stands behind the staircase of his classroom floor, waiting for the person to make an appearance.
And it happens; he catches the person. It's not anyone he could have imagined, it's not someone he could have ever thought about.
Lan Wangji - the school's ice prince, the student council head's brother, perfect, gorgeous, unreachable Lan Wangji - bend down place something - a note - under his desk and then unceremoniously leave.
Lan Wangji…. Lan Wangji…. Lan Wangji…
Lan Wangji, who people whispered about like he existed on an entirely different level from normal students.
Lan Wangji, who barely spoke unless necessary.
Lan Wangji, who apparently had been tiptoeing like a thief every morning to leave Jiang Cheng notes.
The realization hit so hard Jiang Cheng felt physically dizzy.
Jc remains blank standing in his place until the school fills with other students and he's forced to go back to his seat.
He doesn't realise how the rest of the day goes, he doesn't even find in himself to scowl at wwx or bat away nhs hand as it reaches out to take his physics homework to copy.
The day passes and he doesn't check the note beneath his desk - the note placed by Lan Wangji.
But when school ends and the classroom empties and he's left behind, before leaving he rips out another small unrefined piece of paper and writes on it;
//Why are you doing this? what do you want?//
He places his not so neat note next to Lan Wangji's neat note.
:::
The next day he's arrived early again - early as in the classroom is still empty but not early enough to catch lwj again because he finds two notes under his desk.
Jc takes one in each hand and stares at them, trying to identify which is todays and which yesterdays (that he had left untouched). After five minutes he settles on one and unfolds it.
//I like you.//
And like that jc feels his heart stop.
I like you.
The words repeat over and over in his head, making a song of it and overlapping it with the image of lwj bent over his desk.
With a shaky breath jc opens the other - yesterdays - note, something, anything, to distract himself.
//I like you.//
He blinks. And then blinks some more.
Oh.
Oh
:::
The idea is strange, weird, unsettling. It settles beneath his stomach, something tender and warm.
It's not that jc has never had been on the receiving end of crushes, he's had his share of recieving confessions (that he has always rejected straightforwardly till now) and being stared at with love/lust filled eyes here and there.
But-
But the case is different here, the one confessing isn't a teenage girl with big pink heart shaped glasses on or a boy looking for a good fuck or even casual puppy love from either genders. It's Lan Wangji. Lan fucking Wangji.
He has never seen that guy even talk to another person (other then his brother - senior xichen) the thought of him liking anyone - liking anyone and doing an elongated orchestration of something as romantic as secret notes is…. Well, unsettling? Odd? Bizarre?
And he can't even find it in him to accept that this elongatedly orchestrated show of romantic affection was done for him by Lan Wangji.
Between the mix of emotions swirling inside jc’s heart he is unable to put a finger on what he should feel more.
He doesn't come to school early the next day, if anything he comes extra late. He had texted wwx again to go by himself so in a peculiar set of events for the first time ever in his second year of high school it's him who's come to the class past even wwx.
He bows his head, gives a sorry excuse of an excuse and apologizes before stalking over to his seat. Wwx mouths something concerned at him and nhs is looking back from the table he's sitting on. He ignores both and takes out his textbooks, focusing on the class.
He feels his hands itching to reach out and check under his desk for a note.
He gives in halfway through the class and reaches out and to his astonishment finds nothing. Jc flails his hand around in case the note that's always on exactly the same place everyday has been shifted away in the corner.
When he can't feel anything by his hand he ducks down, body bend awkwardly because he can't be noisy and push the chair back, he looks under the desk and…
There's no sight of a note.
“Hey!” Wwx whisper-yells, smacking his back.
Jc sits back up straight.
“What are you looking for there?”
“Nothing.”
“Really? Cuz if you are looking for your erasure, I ate it.”
:::
The notes stops appearing.
At first Jiang Cheng thinks they would resume appearing after two to three days considering the other has-no-feelings lwj has just confessed and getting no answer back to that must had made him ashamed enough to shy away for a while.
But three days goes by and then four and then an entire week goes by, but there's no note under his desk again. He still checks it the first thing after arriving.
Jc get's frustrated. He doesn't know why but he does. It wasn't like he was getting those tiny pieces of paper from months; only a short time and somehow it had already incorporated itself in his life.
On the weekend he stays in his room, going through all the notes he's ever gotten. He looks through them for hours, trailing his finger across the letters.
He's on his back, staring at the ceiling surrounded by all the notes Lan Wangji has given him and the one he's written i like you in his hand.
How bad can it really be?
He… enjoyed the notes, the short stupid facts scribbled on them, the chids, the answers. He… liked them.
If he liked them could liking Lan Wangji be anything harder?
He sits up, he's going to say yes. Yes to the confession and then… he doesn't know what then but wtv lwj would want him to. There was nothing in this for him to lose. Kids younger then him was getting in relationships, if anything wouldn't it be flattering to have his first boyfriend be the gorgeous perfect swoon-worthy lwj?
Yes, he's going to do this.
:::
There's no note the next day either, but before leaving school jc tears up a piece of paper, writes a short note on it;
//Meet me on the rooftop tomorrow, at six.//
He knows lwj arrives at school earlier then that. He hesitates for a moment, he hasn't received a note in a week now, wouldn't putting it under his desk be too presumptious? Doesn't this assume that lwj still comes to check his desk? Why would he come look under his desk but leave no note?
Wwx voice calls from somewhere around the staircase and that makes jc leave logic behind. He folds the paper hurriedly and put it at the same place he recieves his notes.
The next day he arrives just five minutes before six, the school is still pretty much empty except for a few students. Students are just starting to arrive.
He makes his way to the classroom, sits in his seat and then throws his head back over the chairs back to stare at the ceiling.
“No expectations, no expectations, no expectations…” he mumbles before sitting back up and reaching out slowly.
He jerks up straight so suddenly the chair gets thrown down by the force but he doesn't care. Not with the tiny neatly folded paper slip in his hand.
For a moment he only stares at it. He realises his hands are shaky as he opens it.
//I'll be waiting.//
He stays frozen, eyes tracing the words. And then suddenly the world starts moving again, Jiang Cheng grabs his pencil pouch, and practically flies out of the classroom.
He runs upstairs to the rooftop stopping only at the door. He pants bending and holding his knees to regain air. He stands up, still panting slightly. Oh fuck does his hair look good? He runs his hand through his hair a couple of time before ultimately deciding to fuck it and leave it be.
He steps inside and there he is. Lan Wangji is there facing away from the door. At the sound of it lwj tenses up and then slowly turns towards him.
And jc forgets every coherent thought he has ever had.
Because seeing Lan Wangji from afar in hallways was one thing.
Seeing him here—alone, waiting for him— is another entirely.
Lan Wangji was beautiful in an unfair sort of way, jc finds his eyes brush across all of his features. But then pause as a small almost imperceptible frown graces that face.
Lwj doesn't speak.
Jc suddenly becomes aware that he practically sprinted up four flights of stairs over anonymous notes, that must make him look like some sort of desperate lunatic, right?
Oh god.
What if Lan Wangji could tell he ran?
What if he looked sweaty?
What if—
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says quietly, “is not here.”
The sentence lands strangely.
Jc blinks once, something cold crawls beneath his skin, he doesn't know what, but he knows something is wrong, “…what?” he asks.
Lan Wangji’s gaze remains steady on him. Unreadable.
“I came to meet Wei Ying.”
The world stops for the second time that day..
Jc stares blankly ahead, somewhere past lwj. Everything begins rearranging itself inside his head.
Oh.
The notes.
….They were not for him.
Lan Wangji’s eyes lower slightly toward the pencil pouch still clutched tightly in Jiang Cheng’s hand and then they travel to his other hand, the one still holding the note he'd recived tdy.
“…why do you have that?”
Ah, There it is. Confusion. Real confusion. As if Jiang Cheng possessing them makes no sense at all.
Because to Lan Wangji—
They belonged to Wei Wuxian.
Jc feels heat rush violently to his face.
All at once every moment becomes unbearable. Checking beneath the desk every morning. Waiting for replies. Making a habit of carefully keeping the notes hidden in his pencil pouch.
His stomach twists so hard it hurts.
Lan Wangji’s expression shifts slightly, like he’s only now realizing what is wrong.
Jc laughs once. A small awful sound. Then immediately steps back, “I—” He swallows hard, “I thought…”
The sentence dies halfway.
Because there’s nothing he can possibly say that won’t make this worse.
He grips the pencil pouch tighter against his chest like it can somehow hide the embarrassment threatening to crush him alive.
“i—” he says, voice burning raw around the edges. “I just— got the wrong idea.”
“…those replies,” Lan Wangji says after a pause. “You wrote them?”
Jiang Cheng closes his eyes. Humiliation crashes over him fresh and brutal.
Because of course he did.
Of course Lan Wangji knows now.
Every sarcastic response. Every complaint. Every stupid honest thing.
All meant for someone else.
Jiang Cheng doesn't reply, he yanks the door open and runs away.
imagine sect leader yao saying something so overwhelmingly stupid and painful that lan wangji and jiang cheng don't even realise they've shared a pointed look of disbelief and commiseration with each other for like a whole five seconds. and then they have to suddenly reframe their entire concept of the other and their relationship bc i may hate him but he's the only bitch i can trust in this godforsaken place
I don't even know how to caption this beauty. I can't thank @moontashpena enough for them. I'm in awe, I'm in love—much like Jiang Zongzhu and Hanguang-jun. (or are they?)
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It had been his own foolishness that had gotten Lan Zhan caught in the trap, his front leg broken and a wire noose about his neck. His own foolishness that left him vulnerable and barely conscious for what felt like hours, until there were footsteps in the snow and rough hands at his neck. He struggled but the cold and blood loss had weakened him.
“Fucking poachers,” the human muttered above him. And then the wire was gone from around his throat. But the pain remained even as the man tucked him inside the front of his padded jacket. It was strange, being so near a human, and feeling the heat—hearing the heartbeat. Despite the fear of being so close to something that could easily kill him in his rabbit form, Lan Zhan was lulled by the rhythm of footsteps through snow, large hands bracing his small body protectively.
The world spawn dizzyingly around him and when it settled again, he was somewhere warm and out of the snow. Inside. That instinctual terror reasserted itself and Lan Zhan began to struggled to consciousness once more. A rustle of fabric nearby and the patter of small feet and an equally small voice. “Is that—”
“Gentle,” the man said, “like with the puppies.”
A small hand on his back, light, tentative. He shuddered in an unconscious attempt to get it off. “I don’t think it likes that, Jiujiu,” the child’s voice piped.
“That’s because he’s scared and in pain. He doesn’t know we mean to help him, not harm him.”