(yes I'm being pedantic about your tags but also gimme the deets)
Hi <3
Actually let me pull out my notes on Yan Zhikun, since I told you about Tessa and Seth already.
Yan Zhikun, princess of Liao, both empress-born and the eldest of the emperor's children. The annals say that, the night the empress went into labour, Yan Zhikun was born first, with her twin brother Yan Qilin clutching her ankle.
Yan Zhikun has always been clever, with the round face of royalty and the sharp eyes of a monarch. But she's more than clever--her brother the crown prince is clever, and he won't be crown prince for long. After all, she is the empress's firstborn--does her brother think he can steal her birthright? Does her father think she can't climb her way into his throne? If all the concubines' sons can fight like dogs over a golden robe, then so can she. And she can win.
In a palace of intrigue, where every smile hides a knife and family only gives way to betrayal, allies are important. Yan Zhikun's mother is her first ally. Though the empress's own son is indeed still heir, she knows just how precarious his situation is. The third, the fifth, even the sixth prince--they're all salivating. And her son simply isn't good enough to win.
And then Yan Zhikun begins recruiting the concubines, especially the childless ones. She isn't a man of the court, as the officials so love to remind her, so she can't form parties the way her brothers do. But concubines are themselves noblewomen with brothers, fathers, and a little power of their own.
Probably the one that comes as the biggest surprise even to Yan Zhikun herself is Lü Zhaoci, her prince consort. He's a snippy man, prone to insulting people regardless of station (but he's usually right). And there's something clean about him--the way you can always count on him to speak truth, even if it stings. (Don't ask her why she marries him--by all accounts, there are more useful men she could have chosen.)
There's more to this story, but that involves explaining the Liao emperor's weak-willed paranoia, the dynasty's downward slide away from its era of prosperity, and the annals' hunger for a woman emperor to fail.
For the wip ask game: JZX The Old Guard crossover?
Ahhh I started writing this one like a year ago and I really wanna finish it because I'm obsessed with this concept. The thing I'm stalling on is deciding if this ahistorical fantasy China is set before or after Lykon's final death because I need to know who JZX is about to start dreaming about.
"Dagongzi," the man — in a minute Jin Zixuan will remember his name — stammers. "But you're dead."
"Clearly not," Jin Zixuan snaps, but then he remembers: he was yelling — at Wei Wuxian, at his own people — and then suddenly the cold fist bloomed from the front of his chest, and he couldn't yell, because there was no air, no air at all.
Jin Zixuan turns to the side and retches all over what he now recognizes as clean funeral dress.
I'm fond of time travel aus, especially yours, so what if just LWJ travelled back to the gusu lectures, either during the 13/16 years or after all the events of canon.
1
Lan Wangji walked slowly towards the room where his uncle’s lectures were held. He had no reason to drag his feet – this was a chance to change the past for the better, to stop so many terrible things from happening – and yet, he couldn’t resist going even more slowly than usual.
He was a little worried. So much rested on his shoulders.
What would be the right place to make the first change?
“Enjoy the lecture, Wangji,” his brother said as he passed him, returning from his own morning chores.
“Mm,” Lan Wangji said noncommittally.
“Wait,” Lan Xichen said, stopping and turning to look at him. “Hold on. What happened?”
Lan Wangji hesitated.
“Something big?”
“It isn’t –”
“How bad?” Lan Xichen’s eyes went wide. “That bad? How many people died?”
Lan Wangji winced – the answer was, of course, a very great deal, but that was all in the future and hadn’t happened yet – but Lan Xichen read the answer off of him at once.
“That many deaths couldn’t have happened without me knowing,” Lan Xichen said, clearly thinking it through. “And you were fine yesterday. Was it a dream? No, you wouldn’t panic over a dream. Did something happen at night –”
“I’ve returned from the future to change the past,” Lan Wangji blurted out. He couldn’t help it. He’d never been a good liar, and it’d been such a long time since he’d seen his brother so energic over anything…
“Oh,” Lan Xichen said, and visibly relaxed. “Okay. That’s fine. As long as you’re all right, and nobody’s died yet. Let me help?”
When he put it that way – how could Lan Wangji say no?
2
“Wangji?” his uncle called as he entered the hanshi. It was a little early for lectures to be finished – it must have been one of the shorter days, perhaps.
“In here, with me,” Lan Xichen called.
Lan Qiren entered, a worried furrow in his brow. “You missed the lecture. I was concerned.”
Lan Wangji bowed his head. He’d gotten so caught up with talking with his brother that he had forgotten – it was strange, to still have responsibilities that meant going places he was told to go, doing what he was told to do. It’d been years since he had been the one attending classes, rather than teaching them.
And Lan Xichen had acted so naturally about it all that he’d just forgotten. And in forgetting, he’d worried his uncle, which he hadn’t meant to do – his uncle had always meant well, even when they disagreed. He hadn’t allowed his affection for Lan Wangji to stop him from doing what he believed to be the right thing, such as in the battle against Wei Wuxian, but in every other instant he was often Lan Wangji’s staunchest ally within the sect.
It’d been his forceful arguments that had convinced the rest of the sect to allow a formal marriage between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, when Lan Wangji had been certain that the most he would ever get was a quiet understanding and being left alone.
“Wangji’s returned from the future,” Lan Xichen announced. “He’s nearly as old as you are, and married.”
“Married?” Lan Qiren asked. “To who? That Wei boy?”
Lan Wangji turned to stare.
His uncle looked back at him. “What? Did you think you were being subtle?”
Lan Wangji opened and closed his mouth. He knew he wasn’t, of course, but he’d assumed his lack of subtlety had started…somewhat later in life. According to Lan Xichen, he hadn’t known Wei Wuxian for more than a week at this point.
“My relationship is not what I returned to fix,” he finally said. “There are other events –”
“It is that Wei boy!” His uncle looked – delighted? What? “An excellent choice, Wangji. You’re well matched.”
Lan Wangji felt his ears turning red. His uncle had certainly never said that to him in his past life.
Of course, if he had, Lan Wangji as he had been back then might have died of pure mortification, so it was probably for the best.
“You think so?” Lan Xichen asked. “He seems a bit – excitable –”
“It’ll be good for Wangji to have a challenge,” his uncle said, his eyes curving in a smile. “Someone to excite him every day.”
“I came to tell you about war,” Lan Wangji said, a little desperate to make them stop. “With the Wen sect -”
“The inevitability of war can wait,” Lan Qiren said. “First – do you have any children?”
“…one.”
“You have a child!” Lan Xichen exclaimed. “Wangji! You didn’t say! How wonderful! You have to tell us everything!”
Lan Wangji wondered exactly how he had reached this point.
3
Nie Huaisang had developed a new habit that Lan Wangji didn’t know what to make of.
It hadn’t happened in his first life – certainly not at the Cloud Recesses, but not at any other point thereafter – and that made it strange. For a little while, Lan Wangji was afraid that Nie Huaisang had also returned from the future, since he wouldn’t put it past the Headshaker to have figured out his own way back for his own purposes, but after feeling him out a little he didn’t think so.
But that made what he was doing all the stranger.
From what Lan Wangji remembered, Nie Huaisang had been a little afraid of him during this time, and had largely avoided him, preferring to spend time with Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng. So why was he now following him around, talking about all manner of random things? He often didn’t even provide context for the subjects he brought up, and sometimes merely listed off names of people or places or even sometimes things.
It was totally nonsensical.
At first, Lan Wangji tried to ignore him, but it had no impact whatsoever. Nie Huaisang just continued what he was doing.
In the end, Lan Wangji cracked first, turning to him all at once while they were walking alone in the garden - or, well, Lan Wangji was walking his patrols, and Nie Huaisang was tagging along. “What are you doing?”
“Getting answers,” Nie Huaisang answered promptly, as if he’d only been waiting for Lan Wangji to ask.
Lan Wangji frowned at him.
Nie Huaisang was still young at this point – young and lazy and frivolous. But Lan Wangji had seen what steel lay beneath, in the years to come, and he would not make the mistake of underestimating him as so many others did.
“What answers?” he asked. “To what questions?”
“I want to know the future, of course!” Nie Huaisang said. “And since it’s obvious that you know it, I’m picking your brain.”
Lan Wangji stared.
His brother figuring it out, he could understand. His uncle had been told directly. Wei Wuxian wouldn’t have surprised him, being both a genius and Lan Wangji’s soulmate. But – Nie Huaisang?
“How?” he asked.
“You very suddenly changed in how you reacted to things,” Nie Huaisang said with a shrug. “I tried to think of all the reasons there might be for it, given the constraints of time and place, and I’ve been testing and eliminating various options ever since. You wince when you think about someone who gets hurt eventually, you know.”
“…I do?”
Nie Huaisang nodded.
“Why are you telling me this?” Lan Wangji asked. The Nie Huaisang of the future was capable of an amazing degree of deception – he could not bring himself to believe that the younger version had been so careless by accident. Especially not with how eager he was to answer Lan Wangji’s questions.
“I want details,” Nie Huaisang said. “Obviously.”
“No.” Lan Wangji didn’t need to think twice about it. It was one thing to tell his family – he hadn’t planned to, but they knew him too well for him to avoid it – and entirely another to let the master schemer have such an advantage.
Nie Huaisang caught his arm.
“I don’t think you entirely understand, Lan-er-gonzi,” he said. “You flinch whenever anyone says my brother’s name. I want to know why, and I want to stop it from happening.”
It shouldn’t have been a surprise to find that steel core so near to the surface, even this young, and yet somehow it was.
“And if I refuse?” he asked, more out of curiosity than anything else.
“You won’t. You have a big brother, too, and you flinch when his name gets said if you’re not paying attention.”
Nie Huaisang was really too smart.
“I won’t,” he agreed. “But supposing I did, what would have been your next step?”
“Oh, that’s easy,” Nie Huaisang said. “I would have asked your brother to get it out of you.”
I feel like being sad so yunmeng Jiang everyone dies for the wip game
:D yay sadness!!
yunmeng jiang everyone dies is actually titled 'whose unsteady floor' from the final stanza of "Haunted Houses" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It's an AU in which JC did side with wwx at Nightless City—futilely. WWX still was self-destructing, Jiang Yanli still ran onto the battlefield and got hit by an errant blow, and ultimately all JC does is ruin his sect and flee with his siblings to Lotus Pier, all of them grievously injured. In the years after, Lotus Pier becomes cursed ground, the forest reclaiming it and no one seeing Jiang Cheng, Jiang Yanli, or Wei Wuxian again.
20 years later, Jin Ling returns to his family's home.
If he had a choice, Jin Ling wouldn’t be here either. He’d heard of Lotus Pier, of course, knew his history like anyone else, but he’d never put much thought into visiting it. His mother’s tablet stood in Lanling with her husband’s. He had often knelt before them and wondered silently what they would think of their son, if they thought of him at all when they died. It was selfish, unfilial—the same flaw that led to Jin Ling being caught wholly off-guard when xiao-shushu sat him down and suggested he visit Lotus Pier to determine what should be done with his inheritance.
Jin Ling would always be a young master of Lanling, but underneath, unsaid, was the obvious: since Rusong’s birth, since he overcame the attempted poisoning that nearly took his life when he was a toddler, Jin Ling had become extraneous. There was no need for two heirs to a single sect.
Wenzhou + over the shoulder carry (preferably with wkx being carried lol)
Send requests here!
Modern AU
Challenge: YES, ALL THE ANGST
Me: What about this?
Challenge: .... Well I guess.
---
The night was young. Only the brightest stars showed past the city’s light pollution. The last spring weather was comfortable with only a hint of humidity. Zhou Zishu took a deep breath and soaked in the perfect evening.
Then, from the vicinity of his belt, his husband let out a pained gurgle.
Zishu patted his back and tilted his head to rest against Wen Kexing’s waist.
“A’Xu…”
Zishu grinned and held back a chuckle for the sake of his husband’s already wounded pride. “Yes?”
“A’Xu…”
Zishu stopped walking. “Do you need to throw up?”
“A’Xu.” Kexing grabbed his pant leg and used it to pull himself close enough to nuzzle his leg. “You have to say important things three times.”
Zishu let the laugh out that time.
“Don’t laugh at me…” Kexing warbled. “Your poor wife loves you and you laugh?”
“Lao Wen, you used that on me when we were dating.” Zishu resumed walking. Their flat wasn’t too terribly far, but Kexing was heavy and over-the-shoulder wasn’t as efficient of a carry as the fireman’s carry he used in search and rescue.
“It’s still true,” Kexing replied mulishly.
“You should stop goading Senior Ye into drinking competitions. You never win.” Though the words were chiding, Zishu’s tone was affectionate, slotting neatly into the night.
“That old tortoise is a menace and needs to be put in his place.”
Senior Ye had started university at the same time as them, despite being thirty years old as a freshman. Ye Baiyi had been an olympic fencer turned coach who had dropped all of his ego into Classic Literature. He had taken Zishu and Kexing under his wing very against their will, but he’d had a car, so they’d allowed it until they grudgingly no longer hated him.
Senior Ye was also responsible for barricading them in their dorm room until they either fucked or killed each other, so he was impossible to get rid of.
“You should just let it go, Lao Wen.”
“I’ll drop it when he does.”
Zishu laughed again. He grinned at his husband’s sullen silence for the rest of the walk home. He set Kexing down on his feet in the foyer and held his shoulders as his blood rushed out of his head. He couldn’t help kissing Kexing’s forehead over his bewildered stare.
“Do you need help with your shoes?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, A’Xu. I don’t wear shoes to bed.”
Zishu kicked off his sneakers and went ahead into the kitchen for a bottle of water. When he returned Kexing had one shoe off and the other had a ratking of tangled laces. He passed Kexing the water bottle - already open - and skillfully pulled out the knots, freeing Kexing’s foot. From calf to ankle, the socks were a somber black, but the foot and toe were decorated with a square-shaped cat shitting rainbows. It was a birthday gift from A’Xiang that Kexing wore every laundry cycle.
Zishu pulled his husband’s arm over his shoulders and half-dragged him to the bedroom. They made a pitstop in the restroom, where Kexing left the water bottle on the counter. Once at the bedside, Kexing slithered into the bedding like an eel.
“Tuck me in, A’Xu.” Kexing pouted at him and stared with wide, slightly unfocused eyes.
Zishu did as he was bid, meticulously tightening the duvet around Kexing. Years ago, when they had first taken in their ward, Zhang Chengling, Zishu hadn’t known how to be a father to a teenager. Most of what he knew of childcare he’d picked up from movies and stories, so he’d casually and with all the confidence of a man in his mid-twenties offered to tuck the boy in.
Chengling had confusedly refused, very politely, and Kexing had laughed himself sick before demanding to be tucked in himself.
(A week later, after his first therapy session, Chengling very hesitantly asked to be tucked in and Zishu had almost cried. Kexing had actively and dramatically cried, in no way hiding that he was equally affected.)
Since then, it happened on and off and not exclusively when Kexing was drunk.
Zishu kissed first his husband’s lips and then his forehead.
Of course, once he got into bed himself, Kexing undid all of his work by scooting over to Zishu’s side and curling around him. Zishu fell asleep with his husband’s hand over his heart.
So, something that I find funny about your modern au is that before you really solidified yi city and cat!xue yang, you had a comic that featured human!xue yang, so I like to think that xxc just found cat!xue yang and decided to name it after this notorious criminal. Or, even better, Song Lan names cat!xue yang after criminal!xue yang and xxc is like "but he's a sweetheart. Oh well, I love you enough to let you name my cat after a criminal I guess"
Baoshan sanren thinks it's hilarious either way
Anyway, your art is amazing, and I esp love your yi city crew and ace!Jiang cheng
sdjklsdgshdg SHHH no one’s supposed to notice that there’s two versions of xue yang running around 😂
honestly, the real reason is that I just... came up with a better idea for the yi city gang lmao but the idea of song lan being like “I hate this cat. I will name it after someone else that I hate.” is absolutely hilarious and I love it???
Half of this music is from a very specific niche on the CN internet sorry not sorry.
I actually got really into this, and couldn't fit in other musical geniuses from the CN traditional-style scene like Yin Lin, who composed and sang one of the official MDZS fan songs A-Jie sang. And in the interest of my own anonymity, I didn't even mention any of the indie artists I listen to, but if y'all wanna swap music and learn about some really underrated geniuses, feel free to DM me.
Special s/o to Ne-Yo, though. And Chr*s Bro*n is garbage, but his music still slaps.
I tag @saanguis @theleakypen @shadaras @iamwestiec @flamingwell @heyholmesletsgo
And whoever else is interested. No obligation attached.
