#yuandao

This is one of my favorite small details—I love that the Untamed kept it, but it's so annoying that they excised the Wangxian element.

[Ao3 Link.]

Wei Wuxian is back.

Wei Wuxian is back.

It’s news that thrums across every pair of lips, slips through every door, into the depths of every home and every sect. The one who has been destroying so many Wens - it’s Wei Wuxian. He’s alive and he’s powerful and he’s dark, oh so dark, but no one seems to care about that as long as he’s here and killing Wens.

Nie Huaisang is just so glad he’s safe.

Da-ge had not wanted him to leave Qinghe - he had not wanted him to step out onto the field in any way. Perhaps if Huaisang had been better, had been stronger, had been training like Da-ge wished then his brother would be glad for it, but as it stands he doesn’t want him out here.

Too bad Huaisang has no plans to listen to that.

They’re not wrong about him being dark - they’re not wrong about it. Huaisang can see him in the way he holds himself, crooked and off, his stance strange and the flute twirling in his fingers foreign.

“Wei-xiong!” Huaisang cries, and Wei Wuxian turns, his eyes lighting up faintly as he recognizes him before he’s barrelling into him. He doesn’t care that there are tears in his eyes - he doesn’t care that he looks more ridiculous than he normally does, because QUITE FRANKLY, Huaisang has never been afraid to cry on people in public and definitely not now.

“Huaisang...” Wei Wuxian says, his arms slowly coming up to hold him, unsure and light in a way that he has never been before, and Huaisang buries his face in his shoulder, his lips skimming the fabric in a way that’s almost a kiss and tears starting to soak it.

“I thought you were dead,” he wails, dramatic but true, and the grip on him gets a little tighter. “Wei-xiong!”

“I’m not,” Wei Wuxian says, and his voice is quiet. “I’m not. I’m sorry.”

Huaisang sniffles, and the press of his lips to Wei Wuxian’s clothed shoulder is a bit more a real kiss, now. Light enough to be laughed off and hopefully not be noticed. “Just- don’t do it again.”

Wei Wuxian laughs. It’s a laugh, alright, but it’s all-too different from Gusu, all-too brittle. “Don’t worry about that,” he says, and Huaisang pulls back his face to see the hollows of his eyes, the grimness of his mile.

Huaisang listens - he doesn’t worry about that.

DR PEPPER W STRAWBERRY CHUNKS????????????????????

HI :)

1. First impression: i dont remember my ACTUAL first impression but I do remember when u first started following i like :) when i saw u in my notifs. It got to the point where i thought i was following u when i wasnt WJDJ

2. Truth is: u made me ship suyao :/ LMAO

3. How old do you look: UMMMM i very vaguely remember the One pic i saw of u nd id say 16-17

4. Have you ever made me laugh: yes! A lot

5. Have you ever made me mad: not to my knowledge 😭

6. Best feature: mmmmmm idk what this one all implies bt i like ur url a lot

7. Have I ever had a crush on you: 🤫

[Ao3 Link.]

It’s the two of them - only the two of them, and maybe that’s why he can find it in himself to speak. There’s only four people who have held his heart, truly held it. Others have had bits and pieces, but only four held it firmly. One is dead - his mother, lost to him. The other two care for him dearly - Lan Xichen and Qin Su, his mouth filled with ashes and lies as he speaks with them.

The fourth is Su She, Su Minshan, who knows all and yet remains here.

Jin Guangyao sits on his bed, eyes on the opposite wall - Minshan kneels behind him, moving a brush through his undone hair. “Do you still sleep?” he asks softly, and Minshan stills. 

He glances back at the other, just slightly - Minshan’s throat bobs as he swallows, and he hesitates. “Yes,” he says, after a few moments of considering, of stressing over his answers. “But... it’s not always good sleep.”

There is no explanation, no specifics, and Guangyao does not ask for them. He can think of many reasons - many things that may plague him. Deaths that bloody both of their hands, his time with the Lans that they do not oft speak of, or perhaps the burning of Cloud Recesses itself and how Minshan and the others were set up to be slaughtered.

Guangyao hums, and Minshan resumes his brushing. “Do you?” he asks after a few moments, when Guangyao has returned his gaze to the wall.

He sounds as if he is not certain he can ask the question, which will not do. This is the one person who knows his all. Why would he ask him a question he was unwilling to answer? “At times,” he says simply. “But not always.”

Ironically enough, Guangyao sleeps better when he travels. When he is not in bed with Qin Su, which was once the safest place he could imagine himself, clothed in her kindness and shielded from the world. Now, the knowledge he wishes he could cast aside clogs his throat and chokes him and wreathes it all in spiderwebs and shadows that render it changed.

Life is a dance, a fight, to do one step here and another there and never fall out of step or pattern and be lost - there are few places to step out of the dance, and the knowledge of his wife’s parentage had robbed him of one.

Here, though... there is no dance.

“I’m finished,” Minshan says quietly, tying off Guangyao’s hair at the end to keep it from mussing in the night.

“Allow me to do yours,” he says in return, and he turns to hold out his hand for the brush.

Minshan offers it, but Guangyao does not take the brush. Instead, he grasps him gently on the arm, pulling back the sleeve slightly so he can lean in and brush his lips over his wrist. Minshan gasps, just lightly, and Guangyao lingers there for a moment before he pulls back with a faint smile, brush now clasped in his hand.

“Please turn,” he says, and he does.

In here, this room with the two of them, away from Koi Tower, there is no dance. No need for calculated movements, no need to ensure you keep in the rhythm, and don’t throw any others off or allow them to catch on. No secrets, no spiderwebs, no shadows.

LITERALLY i know i dont post about him as often as I do mingjue bt if im not thinking about nielan im thinking about him. he’s literally SUCH an interesting character that i absolutely adore bc imo he’s pretty flexible in a few ways, whether it be writing for different aus, design, or whatever. On top of that his story, to an extent, is just as easy to mess with nd i latch onto characters like that a LOT >:(

You know, Xiao-Mianmian is a character in my Write Our Names verse...

A concept:

“Oh! Xiao-Ying likes Mianmian, then?” Wei Xiulan said teasingly. Although her tone didn’t show it, she was fully serious in this inquiry. “That would explain it!”

Jiang Hualian’s face was as red as Wei Xiulan’s forehead ribbon. “No! I don’t—”

“It’s okay, Tang-ge! Mianmian is a nice girl, you chose well!”

No, no, no. Poor Xiulan, as blind as her father.

Liang Su couldn’t help but recite poetry at times like these, gazing out into the dark sky above the forests of Yiling.

“青青河畔草、绵绵思远道；远到不可思、宿昔梦见之” (Green riverside grass, the floss-silk yearns for faraway roads; but faraway roads cannot yearn, so I can only dream of the past)