The Lotus Pier always loved the bright spirits of the world, the free and unrestrained; she held them cupped in her hand like birds, ready to fly away, to go where their whim takes them, to return because they loved her. Her cultivators reflected that, shining bright, standing against the world and attempting the impossible. But they were only humans, their lives short and too easily cut shorter; when the invading armies came to the Pier, she tried her best to help her people – help them fight, help them flee – but the enemy was already invited inside her gates. There was nothing she could do. (and then she woke up again)

“You just killed him,” Nie Huaisang said dumbly. When the battle at Langya was done, Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang had gone looking for Meng Yao together – Nie Huaisang's brother had been positively seething at how Jin Guangshan pretended he had never received his letter of recommendation, mumbling threats under his breath – and eventually Nie Mingjue had consented to allow Nie Huaisang to go one way while he went another. Nie Huaisang had found Meng Yao first. He was starting to wish he hadn’t.

Every once in a while, not often, people who know them well will say that Nie Mingjue lets Nie Huaisang walk all over him. That isn't quite right.

“It’s impossible,” Wen Qing said, her voice flat and eyes icy. “Literally impossible. It would kill you both.” “But –” “If you don’t care about your own life, at least care about his,” she said, and Wei Wuxian fell silent; she’d hit him right where it hurt the most, and he turned and stormed away. Wen Qing waited, watching as Wen Ning ran after him, distressed by his distress, and when he was finally out of earshot, she said, “You may regret that, one day.” Behind her there was a rusty bark of laughter, if that horrible twisted sound, low and grating and rasping at the throat until it bled, could be called a laugh. “I won’t,” Jiang Cheng said. “Thank you for lying to him.”

It started with Jiang Cheng being a sticky child, refusing to leave his jie’s side even when she sat for her embroidery lessons; with him being noisy and troublesome and the teacher just shoving the needle and thread into his hands with a muttered comment about it being good for men to know how to repair their own clothing – as if a future sect leader would ever need to know something like that. His mother covered her mouth with her hand to hide her laughter when he presented her with the results of several weeks’ worth of effort: it was just barely recognizable as the world’s ugliest duck. “A symbol of loving devotion,” one of her maids said.

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian escape the burning of the Lotus Pier, but they're not alone: along with them, they bring three of their youngest shidi, little children who can't contribute and are only a burden - and who sometimes see (and say) too much. (“– and then shixiong put me down and told me to go back,” he said, crying bitter tears. “He said to tell you that you have to – that someone has to avenge –” “That idiot,” Wei Wuxian said, his lips were numb. “The Wens – they have Wen Zhuliu there! Doesn’t he know what they’ll do to him..!”)

Everyone has their own theories about how Jiang Cheng, of all unlikely people, got the opportunity to become a god. They're all wrong. It started with a kind act - and a story.

"You can't seriously be suggesting that we elect Sect Leader Yao to be Chief Cultivator!" “I don’t see the problem,” Nie Mingjue said, heroically maintaining a straight face despite the slightest curve in his eyes that indicated a man who knew exactly what the problem with his suggestion was. “According to all the stories I’ve heard him tell, Sect Leader Yao has been at the forefront of every action in the past few years, large or small - no matter where or how implausibly quickly he must have traveled to get there.”

Lan Xichen wished that people in Qinghe weren't so notoriously reluctant to share personal information. It was one thing not to know exactly how old someone was, or what their given name was, but entirely another thing to belatedly find out that there was a new baby in the family.

As a result of his newfound cultivation, Wei Wuxian was having trouble sleeping - and then he realizes that he sleeps just fine during war council meetings. What could possibly be the cause? The only thing that seems to be in common is the presence of one Sect Leader Nie... And so Project "Sleep with Nie Mingjue" is born! (shut up, Jiang Cheng, the name is fine - who could possibly misunderstand?)

When Jiang Chen was little, she told her mother that she wanted to be like her when she grew up. Madame Yu thought it referred to her cultivation and was very proud, even smug, but actually Jiang Cheng had been eyeing her beautiful skirts and delicate jewelry, her proud back and gentle curves. It wasn’t until Jiang Cheng was a little older that she realized that she couldn’t be like her mother – that she was supposed to be like her father. Because she was her father’s son, and not his daughter. She was never going to be like her father.

“If we get home, you mean,” the Jin sect junior muttered. “Where even are we? And who’s the guy playing Chenqing?” Wei Wuxian was mildly offended. Who in the world knew enough to recognize Chenqing on sight but couldn’t recognize him? “I’m pretty sure that’s Senior Wei,” the shorter Lan sect junior said. “Just, you know, not…Senior Mo.”

When old sect leader Nie dies, the Wen sect attacks and annexes Qinghe Nie, with the two heirs of the Nie sect taken to be raised as Wen Ruohan's wards - and more besides, in Nie Mingjue's case. Nie Huaisang spends a lot of time thinking about that.

“Something happened at the Lotus Pier.” “Oh? What does Fengmian have to say?” “Nothing,” Wei Changze said, and that’s when Cangse Sanren noticed that her husband was an unhealthy shade of pale. “He’s – he’s dead.” “What?” She snatched the letter away from him. “What – him and Yu Ziyuan both? Impossible! They’re – they’re sect leaders. Of a Great Sect! What happened?”

In which Lan Xichen, nearly thirteen, visits Nie Mingjue, newly appointed Sect Leader - and decide to swap brothers for a day.

Cloud Recesses, Gusu, age 15 “You don’t think they’re really going to make us wake up at mao hour?” Wei Wuxian whined. “Or sleep by the end of xu hour?” “They’re not going to make us do anything,” Jiang Cheng groaned. “It’s just that activities will be ongoing when they’re awake, so if you miss them all by sleeping until si hour, that’s your problem. It’s not like we made them do anything when they were visiting us at the Lotus Pier…” “What are you talking about?” Nie Huaisang wanted to know. “You all most certainly made poor Lan-xiong stay up past his bedtime when he was visiting the Lotus Pier – and the same for the rest of us, too!” Wei Wuxian, who had led most of the forcing-to-stay-up-late nonsense, coughed. “Yes, well…speaking of Lan Zhan, do you think he’ll be happy to see me?” “No,” both Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang chorused.

Five snapshots of the accidental friendship of Nie Huaisang and Wen Ning, following the resurrection of the Yiling Patriarch and the ensuing events.

Madame Yu has always been irredeemably stubborn. You think a little thing like being taken captive by the Wen sect after they invaded her home, destroyed her husband's golden core, and sent her children fleeing to the winds is going to stop her?

Legend said that those who died of anger could die with their last breath trapped in their throat, their consciousness trapped within their bodies by their own resentment, and that if one wasn't careful with their bodies, they might rise again. Nie Huaisang had long ago given up all hope of getting his brother back. Revenge had been all that had been left to him… Or so he’d thought.

In a moment of lightheartedness, Lan Xichen proposes to Nie Mingjue that they go dare the dangerous Burial Mounds to see what the Yiling Patriarch is really doing there, and so judge for themselves whether Lan Wangji's unauthorized visit there was in fact a breach of the rules or not. What they find there - isn't what they expected.

In order to get married, Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang have to follow the traditions handed down by their respective ancestors. It's only that those traditions are so damn weird, is all.

Nie Mingjue took one look at the ash-faced girl on the streets of Lanling, caught her by the shoulder and said, “Aren’t you that Wen Qing? I used to see you at discussion conferences – what are you doing here?” Nothing is ever the same again.

Wei Ying's fertile mind was always pleasing to him, even when he did not recognize all the fruits that grew there.

Jiang Cheng has seen his home violated time and time again. The Wen sect - the Jin sect - he'll do anything to stop it from happening again. Anything. (what Wei Wuxian doesn't know is...)

Lan Qiren had spent so long trying to save his nephews from his brother’s mistake – he would not now allow them to fall into their mother’s. (in which Lan Qiren notices that there's something wrong with Nie Mingjue...but no matter what it sounds like, he can't believe his nephew would poison his own lover)

Lan Xichen’s hands were shaking, hidden in his sleeves, and his mouth kept opening and closing, trying to find something to say. “A-Yao,” he finally forced out through numb lips. “A-Yao, you swore an oath.” Jin Guangyao blinked, then laughed. “I swore many oaths,” he said. “Which one are you referring to?"

nirejseki

They figured out that Wei Ying’s parents had died, and Wei Ying left alone, when Jiang Cheng’s fingers started scabbing over. After all, that’d been the agreement: Jiang Fengmian would consent to his wife’s proposal to engage his eldest daughter to the Jin sect’s heir, and in return she would agree to allow him to bind his best friend’s son to his own the way he and Wei Changzhe had once been bound, before the latter dissolved it in order to marry. A soul binding contract, allowing the wounds incurred by one to be shared with the other – a life-saving panacea, halving the severity of the injury by splitting it among two people’s bodies.

chengxian thought: turnip sales aren't cutting it, so wwx freelances out of a yiling brothel. jc, blowing off steam on one of his periodic trips to check up on him, asks for whatever the madam recommends and, welp, there's his brother. jc writes this off as a charitable donation. I did not intend to put any further thought into this but just like, the idea of the moments where wwx is still laughing off the coincidence and jc has already decided to go through with it, to insist, and wwx slowly slowly gets there

Lan Zhan’s expression had turned in on itself, more determined now. He leaned in and traced a line of carefully spaced kisses down Wei Ying’s collarbone, lingering over each one. Wei Ying would have been squirming, if he could feel it. Demanding more, faster, asking to be overwhelmed. He wondered if his heart was beating any faster. He felt as if a heartbeat was somehow shaking even his paper body. Imagination rather than a trace of the spell, he was fairly sure. There was nothing in the magic that should let a scrap of paper feel yearning. Or: Wei Ying and Lan Zhan do some experimenting. For SCIENCE.

sat down to write a lil vignette-sized cql fic but the fic is a fake excerpt from a made-up academic article about the work of a pretend poet who wants it

Lan Xichen stares at his brother, pure and untouched. His brother, who has never panted with want and come undone under anyone’s hands, not even his own. His brother, who is asking so sweetly and innocently, to be taught.

Wei Ying had been saying something. “I didn’t even like him! It’s just --” “His dick was so big, yes, you’ve said. Several times.” Lan Zhan’s voice was a little strained, probably because he was holding him up while they waited for the elevator in Wei Ying’s building.

A series of vignettes exploring an a/b/o Black Sails.

"I had another dream about Charles last night," Jack tells Anne over lunch. "So?" "So, this is the third time in as many days. What do you suppose it means?" Anne stirs her soup disinterestedly. "It don't have to mean anything." (The Ghost!Charles story nobody asked for.)

There are times Jack thinks he's a very lucky man.

Wen Ning began to go, then hesitated. “Do you need medical assistance, Sect Leader Nie? I know a little…” “Wen Qionglin.” “…yes?” “Take the child and go.” (an unexpected encounter in the aftermath of the Sun Palace)

The fault, Nie Mingjue thinks later, lies squarely with the blasted weather.

“Let’s play a game,” Xingchen says. Song Lan and Xue Yang share a look.

When the Yiling River rages out of control, the townsfolk decide that a living human sacrifice is needed to appease the dragon that dwells in the river, and Lan Zhan bows to his fate.

"Do we need to come up with rules?" Jin Ling asks. "What, like a point system? A bunch of categories for touches based on difficulty? A—" "No," Jin Ling starts, raising his voice to interrupt Jingyi, "I meant, are there rewards or punishments if he guesses right or wrong? Or if we fuck up?" "Let's just see how this goes," Sizhui says. "We can adjust later if we want. Alright with you, Zizhen?" "Uh-huh." Zizhen is just thinking about touching, in general. (the other juniors blindfold Zizhen and he has to guess who is touching him)

Sandu Shengshou and Hanguang-Jun had, infamously, long since mastered the art of existing in the same space without ever acknowledging one another directly, and Wei Wuxian, having never in either of his lives met a delicate social situation he didn't blithely barrel through if it suited him, happily chattered enough to fill what might have been awkward silences in any other company. But in the end it was not Wei Wuxian who ultimately prompted the cessation of the cultivation world's coldest and most famous feud. or: The Badass Teamup of Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji

Lan Wangji didn’t have much of an impression of Jiang Cheng at first, during his time at the Cloud Recesses. He was supposed to have joined in the first round of lessons with him, in fact, but he’d instead chosen to remain in seclusion a few extra months, focusing on strengthening his will and his heart, and that meant that he'd missed this Wei Wuxian fellow - probably for the best, since he seemed like he’d require a great deal of effort and forbearance. It wasn’t until later that he started appreciating Jiang Cheng.

Mingjue’s thumbs stroke gently against the wings of his shoulders as he leans in, setting his mouth to Jiang Cheng’s ear. “Qingqing wants this, too. All three of us. You, me, her.” A shudder runs down Jiang Cheng’s spine; he’s dizzy, breath coming too fast, and he’s shamefully hard just from this, his erection trapped against the edge of the sink. “Would you like that, Cheng-di? It’s fine if you don’t, but if you do –” “Yes.” The word rasps out of him, echo-y and desperate. “I want that.”

Wei Ying isn't sure how it came to this—how Lan Zhan fucking her while Wei Ying babbles about getting pregnant turned into Wei Ying babbling about Lan Xichen getting her pregnant for Lan Zhan, while Lan Zhan fucks her. Talking about being pregnant during sex is nothing new for her. She and Lan Zhan have been married for three years now, and along with settling down in the Cloud Recesses, they've settled into their marriage and what they like best in bed. Wei Ying isn't even embarrassed about it anymore; not when Lan Zhan loves it so much. Wei Ying and Lan Zhan share fantasies and plan for a baby.

Five people who (sort of) learn how Wei Ying became pregnant, and one person who doesn't. (Alternate title: How Lan Qiren lived on in ignorant bliss)

“Thank you all for coming,” Lan Xichen said, pouring tea for the other three people at the table. “I think you all know why I’ve asked you to gather here today.” “Sure,” Nie Mingjue said, accepting the cup. “Because our younger siblings have decided to join together to become a criminal gang.” “That seems like an unduly harsh way to put it,” Jiang Yanli murmured, inclining her head in thanks to Lan Xichen as she took her own. “After all, they’re helping people, aren’t they?” Wen Qing huffed. “Leverage,” she drawled. “If I ever find out who gave them that idea…!”

“You are never allowed to do this again,” Jiang Cheng’s mother said, her voice harsh in the way that means she was scared, because she hated being scared. “Never again, you hear me?” “I hear you, a-niang,” Jiang Cheng said. “Did it live?” “Yes, of course it lived,” Madame Yu snapped. “You’re the one that nearly died! You can’t – death-sharing is a rare gift, A-Cheng, but you can’t use it too often, you hear me? Every time you use it, your own life gets shorter. You must never do it again. And you mustn’t tell anyone else about it! No one at all! Swear to me!” “I swear,” he said. “No one at all.”

The healers said it was trauma. Perhaps he was too young, or too sensitive; perhaps it was only that it had happened in such a way, at such an impressionable time – in any event, Lan Wangji’s reactions to his mother’s death had gone well beyond the normal signs of grief and turned into something much more severe. After some intense discussion, it was agreed that he should be temporarily sent to live as a guest in another sect to see if he would benefit from the change of scenery. From not being around the place where he was drowning in the memories of his mother. They sent him to the Jiang Sect.

Max throws herself backwards onto the bed as if doing a freefall over a cliff or something. Anne chews at her lip and scuffs the ground with her toe, but she’s still the idiot who takes the leap right after her.