Now that the prologue is done and I have at least a little something to offer you all - I want to officially tell you about the project I'm working on and invite you, if you're interested, to read along as I write it.
Muraga is about the woman who was meant to be the archivist for the first colony on Mars - and the crew who, a thousand years later, rescued her from the ruin of her ship. Or: queer found family in space!
I won't be posting it "publicly" but I have made a discord server to share it through, so if you think you'd like to read it please message me for an invite. And don't be shy - the best part of writing fanfic was knowing people were enjoying it! <3
Uhhhh is this where you ask for 650 words prompts? I'm sorrg I don't have tumblr I'm trying to figure it out. If this is wrong pls ignore me. As for the prompt jc/nhs or nmj/cj or nmj/lxc cottagecore setting (or similar) would be really jnteresting if they're soulmates but one of them is a ghost (who is maybe haunting somewhere bc secretly they're really romantic andupset over seemingly not having a soulmate) I know this is maybe abit of a crazy idea but it sounded nice in my head 😅
I don't know if I got this exactly as you might have intended, but I hope that you like it anyway, anon! And for the record yes, this is exactly where you ask for the 650-word prompts. Thanks for reading, anon! <3
(also on ao3, if you prefer to read there)
[Gen; NieLan; Cottagecore; Ghosts; Soulmates]
- Liebing -
The man who moved into Liebing's house was... unexpected. He was big - tall and broad, almost too big for the cottage - and scowling, with a neat mustache and his head partially shaved in some curious modern style. Liebing watched him duck through the kitchen doorway to deliver a box that was, helpfully, marked 'KITCHEN' on the side. The man's sleeves were pushed up and his arms were impressively muscled. Liebing watched shamelessly. It had been a long time since he'd had somebody so pretty to look at.
When he had company, the man was gruff. There was a brother who called the man dage, who met the man's grumpiness with teasing and laughter. Another, who also called the man dage but didn't look like a relative, who smiled enigmatically when the man frowned at him. Strangers called him sir and ran when he glared.
On his own, though, the man was sweet. He hummed tunelessly as he worked. Liebing watched from his shelf as the man learned to make bread (it took a few attempts but he seemed to enjoy kneading the dough, so it was never a total loss), as he seasoned a cast iron pan, as he set up a homemade spice rack and added to it each grocery run. Liebing watched his cooking experiments and delighted in seeing the expressions on the man's face when he tasted each meal.
And through the kitchen window Liebing could see the yard: he could see the man weeding the overgrown garden, fixing and repainting the rickety fence, chopping and stacking firewood. He watched the man offer scraps to a huge feral cat that more often than not clawed him for his trouble... but it came back more and more, scratched him less and less.
One day the man convinced the cat to let him shut it in a towel-lined box and take it away in his car. When they came back it had a collar and sometimes after that it came into the house. Liebing worried that it would jump up on his shelf, knock him down and break him, but the cat quickly became a spoiled, lazy thing. It liked to sprawl across the table and sleep there, no matter how many times the man chased it away.
The man sometimes came to look at the things on Liebing's shelf, the old things that belonged not to the owner but to the house, but it wasn't until he'd lived there for a year (Liebing watched the seasons change, through the window) that he actually touched any of it to do anything other than dust.
If Liebing had been capable of breath he would have held it, when the man picked him up from the shelf. Most people wouldn't go further than that, than turning him over curiously a few times before placing him back. But maybe, maybe...
The man hesitated, then laughed at himself, then placed Liebing against his lips and blew. The note that sounded was clear and beautiful and perfect. The unravelling of the spell felt like surfacing from deep underwater, rushing upwards toward light and warmth and air, and before the note ended he was free.
Xichen, no longer Liebing, returned to his body with the man's hands on his cheeks and the man's lips pressed against his lips. Magic tingled between them, making them both gasp, pulling them momentarily closer together - and then the man stumbled back and stared at him.
"Thank you," Xichen said, "and I'm sorry - I didn't mean to steal that kiss."
The man's eyes rolled back and he dropped in a quite dramatic faint.
Xichen sighed, and stepped around the man to offer his hand to the cat to sniff.
"I hope he won't hold that against me," he said.
The cat purred loudly in response; at least he would have company while he waited for his soulmate to wake up.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
In a moment of true genius, Wei Wuxian hires acquaintance Nie Huaisang to come to family dinners as Jiang Wanyin’s pretend boyfriend - THAT should get their parents off his brother’s back about marrying and having kids, right? (Not that he actually runs the plan past his brother ahead of time, because consequences are for other people to think about.)
Now Jiang Wanyin and Nie Huaisang are on Team Convince Everyone We’re Dating, which would honestly be quite easy (turns out they make a great team!) if things like actual developing feelings didn’t start to get in the way.
All explicit content comes with skip codes, for those who ain’t about that.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
People didn't like to talk about Lotus Pier, and when they did it was only ever in a whisper. Haunted, they told Huaisang, when he convinced them to say anything at all. People who went there didn't come back.
-
An extended, filthy, monsterfucking version of Lure.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
When circumstances force Meng Yao back into Nie Mingjue's life, both of them have to re-evaluate how they feel about each other and whether or not they can forgive the mistakes of the past. With Lan Xichen caught in the middle the three of them have to figure out where they stand and whether or not any love remains beneath the hurt.
-
This work is set in the immediate aftermath of Chapter 41 of we both know better (maybe we don't) and contains major spoilers for that work going forward. Additional tags and warnings can be found in the initial author's note.
I hope that you enjoyed it, thank you for all your enthusiastic support! <3
(also on ao3, if you prefer to read there)
[Gen; SangCheng; Zoom meeting gone wrong]
- Bird Professor -
"So it's what time, there?" Huaisang asked, stifling a yawn (he hoped) behind his coffee mug.
Professor Jiang looked startled, like he hadn't even considered the time difference, then squinted at the bottom corner of his computer screen.
"Two," he said. "What time is it there?"
"... let's just say late. Or early. Pity me, is the takeaway here."
Professor Jiang laughed, and he did look pitying, which Huaisang appreciated. He was sacrificing his beauty sleep for this, after all.
"So," he said, figuring that concentrating would help him to stay awake, "lay it on me, what'd you see? You said that you had photographs?"
The first time they'd spoken he'd assumed that it was a prank, but the mysterious caller had called him again, the next day, to apologise for his drunken behaviour. And when he'd sheepishly explained that he had a bird-related mystery in the wetlands he was studying, Huaisang had been convinced with embarrassing ease to join the project as a consultant despite the fact that he was currently in a highly incompatible timezone.
Professor Jiang was handsome, was the thing. Plus, so few people ever seemed to want to listen to him talk about birds. He even paid attention, now, as Professor Jiang shared his screen and began to scroll through the pictures. Since birds were the one thing Huaisang would willingly look away from a pretty face for, he shrunk Professor Jiang's webcam image down - and that was how he almost missed it when the door to Professor Jiang's study slowly opened behind him and a toddler wobbled their way into view.
The kid was cute, if you were the kind of person who found kids cute (Huaisang was ambivalent about them: appreciated their aesthetic, did not appreciate their noise and mess levels) - unsteady on their feet, hands held up for balance. Huaisang hid his smile the way he'd been hiding his yawns, behind his mug, and decided to let Professor Jiang notice in his own time... but he did re-enlarge the webcam image in the meantime. The toddler moved hesitantly, dropping out of view once when they lost balance and fell on their butt, but a moment later they were up again, determination writ across their chubby features.
The door opened further and a woman in an apron, with one wide-eyed glance up at the computer, crawled into the room in a valiant attempt to stay out of view of the camera. It didn't work, but it was cute that she tried.
Professor Jiang, enthralled by his work, almost fell out of his chair in surprise when the toddler reached the desk and grabbed his arm.
"Ah, dangit," the woman muttered, giving up and sitting back on her heels, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. "I thought I'd get to him."
"Jiujiu!" the toddler shrieked, and cackled delightedly as Professor Jiang scooped him up with a wry smile.
"Professor Nie," he said, a blush spreading across his cheeks, "I - apologise for the... interruption."
"Ah!" the toddler added, leaning forward and patting his hand against the screen. "Ah-ba!"
"Not at all," Huaisang said, giving in to his giggles at how satisfied the kid looked to be included. "I'm more than happy to yield to a local expert."
"Ba," the toddler agreed. His face scrunched up happily, gummy mouth wide open and eyes screwed shut.
"I'm sorry," the woman said, struggling against her own laughter as she got up and retrieved the kid. "I turned around for one second and he was gone."
Once they were gone, apologies accepted, Professor Jiang smiled sheepishly.
"My nephew," he said.
Huaisang, who had been feeling vaguely disappointed by the thought that his handsome colleague was married, perked back up again.
"Oh?"
"So, uh. The birds?"
"The birds, right."
Birds for now. Scoping out chances of a date could happen once they were in the same country again.
This anon needs a sequel to “The Hunt” the Sangxian fic. Please, please, please! 🥺🥺🥺
Here it is, anon! Did you think I wasn't going to write it? This was originally intended to be funny, but then I wrote it and it isn't. Oops! Hope you enjoy it anyway <3
(also on ao3, if you prefer to read there)
[M; SangXian; Knights AU; mistaken identity]
- The Hunted -
If he'd been on familiar territory, Huaisang never would have allowed someone to approach while he was feeding. For his own safety, ostensibly (dage would certainly never forgive him for being seen) but also, more realistically, for the safety of that someone. After all, he couldn't allow anybody to see him and live.
A sob from behind him made Huaisang spin around, half-eaten carcass still in his hands, to find a knight kneeling by his coat.
"Foul beast!" the black-armoured knight cried, clutching the coat to his chest and looking with agony at the bloody mess Huaisang held. "I'll make you pay!"
Before Huaisang could flee, Wei Wuxian - for it was of course the Jiang champion who had found him - drew his sword and lunged to attack. Huaisang dropped his meal and brushed the blade aside. The metal threw sparks from his scales.
If it had left a scratch he was going to be so mad.
"How dare you eat him?!" Wei Wuxian demanded.
He struck again, and again. His movements were like dancing and Huaisang wished that he could simply stop to watch, to admire, but he had to make sure Wei Wuxian didn't hurt himself.
"How despicable, to attack someone defenseless - what crime has he committed, except to follow birds into your clearing?"
Huaisang realised then that Wei Wuxian thought that Huaisang (the Beast) had eaten Huaisang (the man). Never mind that the carcass had clearly been that of an animal, a creature with hooves and hide. Never mind that the coat was neither torn nor bloodstained but folded and left neatly on a tree stump.
It was both thrilling - Wei-gongzi was worried about him? - and concerning - because now he would need to subdue the knight without harming him, or risk revealing the entire secret and endangering his entire sect in the process.
Huaisang had always hated fighting, but not because he was bad at it. As a Beast he was nigh on unstoppable: strong, fast and armoured. He'd hurt his brother a lot when he was younger, when Mingjue was teaching him how to fight, how to defend against a knight. Now, in this unfamiliar clearing, he hurt Wei Wuxian as well.
With barely a thought he bore the man's blows and pushed him back again and again and then, because he knew that Wei Wuxian would never stop until he was made to stop, he backhanded the knight across the clearing. The tree the knight collided with shook but held; the knight himself fell in a heap among its roots.
It was difficult to speak, with the jaws of a Beast, but Huaisang could manage a little of it if he tried.
"Enough!" he snarled, looming over the knight at his full, most intimidating height.
Wei Wuxian looked up at him, and winced at his bruised ribs, but smirked.
"I'll say when it's enough."
As a Beast, Huaisang was nigh unstoppable, but every suit of armour had a point of weakness, and the black knight was the Jiang champion for a reason. With the same grace with which he did everything else, the knight surged up and his sword pierced the place where Huaisang's scales met on his belly.
The pain was exquisite, bright and sharp and shocking.
"Oh," Huaisang said, more whine than word, as his body shuddered around the wound. He'd never been hurt like that before. Ripples of pain shivered over him and in their wake he was transformed back into his human self. At that size the sword was much bigger. It took up so much more of his insides.
Wei Wuxian cradled Huaisang in his arms, stammering confused apologies, but all Huaisang could think about was how beautiful the black knight was from up close. Even with his expression twisted by guilt and grief. Even with a spray of blood across his chest, bright and red and glistening in the sunlight.
happy anniversary!! and thank you for sharing all of your lovely fic with us!! 🥰🥰🥰 can i pls request [53] A waking up from anaesthesia does not remember their spouse, B for either nielan or sangcheng? <3
Thanks for your support and encouragement over the last year, Ana! I hope you like it and thank you, as always, for reading <3
(also posted to ao3, if you prefer to read there.)
[g; prompt fill; NieLan; modern setting]
- Lucky Him -
"Woah," Mingjue said, blinking blearily. His voice was slurred: clearly his mouth was still pretty numb. "You're so beautiful?"
Xichen smiled and took his hand. Mingjue blushed, which was adorable of him - but Xichen wasn't surprised, because Mingjue was always adorable. The disorientation was new, but the doctor had warned him to expect that.
"Um, why are you here?" Mingjue asked. He wasn't meeting Xichen's eye but sneaking glances when he thought Xichen wasn't looking.
"I'm here to see my husband," Xichen teased. "He was in an accident and got hurt, so he had to have surgery."
"Oh... you must have been worried."
"I was," Xichen said.
"Is he okay?"
"Yes, he's fine. Just a bit confused and sleepy. I'm going to have to take good care of him, when we go home."
Mingjue nodded, and smiled wistfully.
"That's nice," he said. "You're so nice. I bet he likes you so much."
"I think so," Xichen said, then added, conspiratorially, "In fact, I think he's in love with me."
"Ah," Mingjue said. He sank back in the bed, smiling dopily in the direction of the ceiling. "That's so nice."
Without seeming to realise that he was doing it, Mingjue reached up with his free hand to prod at his face. Xichen pushed his hand away - Mingjue frowned and did it again, jabbing himself hard in the cheek before Xichen could stop him.
"Hurts," he complained.
"So don't do that!"
Mingjue frowned, sulking, and pulled his hands away to fold them angrily across his chest. Then he looked down at Xichen's hand, which he was no longer holding, looking bereft and guilty.
"You want to hold hands again?" Xichen offered, holding his out, but Mingjue shook his head.
"No," he said, with a heavy sigh. "You're married."
"Well," Xichen said, "yes, I am, but -"
"So you can't hold hands with me," Mingjue interrupted. He looked like he was on the verge of tears. "Because - you shouldn't even be here! You have to go look after your husband!"
He sniffled, and rubbed clumsily at the tears that threatened to spill down his swollen cheeks. Xichen wanted to lean in and gently kiss them, but he suspected that he had to stop teasing and come clean, first. It wasn't really funny any more, if Mingjue was upset.
"Wish I had a nice beautiful husband to look after me," Mingjue whispered.
"Well," Xichen said, "I have some good -"
"Please don't try to comfort me! You gotta - you gotta go to your husband now!"
"A-Jue! You are my husband!"
Mingjue stared at him for a long time.
"I don't understand," he said, finally.
"I'm married to you."
Mingjue stared some more, then stared at the ceiling again, mouth moving silently as if he was working out a complex math problem. When he looked back he was teary again, but this time with a distinctly hopeful air.
"Me," Mingjue clarified. "I'm the husband who had a surgery?"
"You are."
"But I'm okay?"
"You're fine, I promise."
"And I'm married to you?"
He sounded so incredulous, so awed, that it was Xichen's turn to blush.
"You sure are," he said, fishing out the chain he'd strung Mingjue's ring onto for the length of his hospital stay. "See? Here's your ring, same as the one I'm wearing."
Mingjue looked at the rings, then back at Xichen, and then began to cry in earnest - to sob, really, burying his face in his hands and shaking with the force of it.
"It's me," he wailed. "It's me you love so much and you were worried about and you're gonna look after!"
"That's right," Xichen said. "I love you."
Xichen shifted to sit on the bed next to Mingjue, pulling him against his chest and patting his back soothingly. Mingjue was going to be embarrassed about this later but for now Xichen was just going to enjoy his husband's unselfconscious appreciation.
