Some wangxian art, modern au, vampire au and some other random draws

Oooo yeah that's sounds fun! Sadly I also cannot with chengxian, but have u read lynchpin by Shanastoryteller?

Its abt jc going back in time with knowledge of the future, so it's a little different from what we r talking about but jc absolutely saves the world and its great! Highly recc if u haven't read already! :)

Stray Dogs Seem to Follow

What if Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze did not die? What if they, along with Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen, start their dream sect where no bloodlines matter, only skill and hard work?

The all-star trained-by-an-immortal cast is honestly reason enough for random rogue cultivators to start to flock to them, but the truth is the reputations that draw people are not one of battle prowess, but of human decency, humility, and a penchant for treating people equally between farmers and gentry. 

YilingWei is a small but growing power in the cultivation world, and through Wei Changze has an alliance with the Jiang Clan, and through Cangze Sanren, has an alliance with GusuLan. Many of the other sects dislike this very much, because nobody likes to see the idea that noble blood actually doesn’t really matter be proven so soundly.  Wei Wuxian has an uncanny ability for picking up strays. 

Embrace the Entirety of the World

When Wei Wuxian comes back into the world, the first thing he registers is pain. It’s a sharp, aching thing, a body filled with bruises and the gnaw of an empty belly. He sits there, for a while, letting it wash over him; the nausea, the headache, the rasp of rough woven cloth under his fingers. It is so much , so distinct, sound and smell and touch a dizzying input where there had only been numbness and nothing before.

He is alive. In his marrow he knows how rare of a chance this is, how short and how fragile a single soul in a single body actually is, how easily lost, how infinitely precious. He is dead but now he is alive, and it feels like there is nothing he cannot do.

He breaks out of that shack with gladness, eager to leave the stink of human excrement and neglect, and inhales deeply, noting the thickness of the humid air, the sound of faraway chatter of a bustling household. He smells dust, and animal, cooking not too far away, and the sensation of it all almost overwhelms him once again, and it feels like something inside his chest clicks , a setting of a phantom bone behind his sternum. Or perhaps it breaks. He feels untethered, unmoored, feral. An animal thing, more beast than human, more sensation than cognition.

When he calms, he spares a thought for young Mo Xuanyu, and makes a mental note to set an offering and perform rites on his behalf. He thinks with a pang that Mo Xuanyu was never treated well enough to ever understand the nature of the gift he had given Wei Wuxian. He will, however, honor those last wishes cleaved into his forearm.

So he saunters into a mystery, absently enjoying the feeling of packed earth under the thin soles of Mo Xuanyu’s boots, and within a few xichen night has fallen and the Mo family is sundered by corpse limbs. Wei Wuxian commandeers a grumpy donkey, marvelling at the stubble-rasp of the animal’s flank under his palms as he makes his way down the mountain, thrust into the gaping maw of the world once more.

Fix it fic where the only thing that changes is that Jiang Cheng snaps and allows himself to be a bitch. Doesn’t care that he’s the youngest sect leader anymore, just leans into the bratty, sarcastic prickly person that is his mothers son.

Jin Guangshan tries to spread rumours about Wei Wuxian’s new sect with Wen remnant-warriors and Jiang Cheng just snorts really loudly mid-banquet and says, “That idiot, running his own sect? He can’t even get up till after noon!” Downs his baijiu and everyone looks at each other like ‘well, they grew up together, sect leader jiang must know best’ and shrug. 

Sect Leader Yao starts talking about the very dangerous, very bloodthirsty Wen remnants, Jiang Cheng squints and is just like ‘woooooww Sect Leader Yao, your informants must be sooo accurate? Because last I saw, YilingWei “sect” is a bunch of uncles with garden hoes,”

He lists forward, drunk enough to make it believable when he speaks again, loud enough for everyone to hear, “You don’t have to be afraid of farmers! Don’t worry, Sect Leader Yao, Radishes aren’t very sharp!” 

Sect Leader Yao is disliked enough that the crowed laughs in murmurs, disdainful and amused at his expense. 

Basically Jiang Cheng out-bitches everyone whenever someone tries to sway public opinion, grumbles VERY loudly about having an annoying brother, and nie mingjue and lan xichen are like.. .wow. This guy is loud and brash but he sure loves his brother. We, as fellow brothers who love our troublesome brothers, should support him!

and somehow that fixes everything, nobody but Jin Guangshan dies, Jiang cheng mouths off at Lan Wangji in front of all of cultivation society that he should just propose to Wei Wuxian already, and Wei Wuxian gets bullied into telling the truth about his golden core and marrying Lan Wangji and everything is wonderful.

Don’t know if anyone still follows me on here but I started a twitter @_PorcelainBlue where I’m mainly tweeting headcanons and occaisional threadfics for mdzs wangxian pairing. Its a little lonely for now but if you’d like please come say hi! I haven’t written in a long time but am getting back into it. :) 

Summer Smiles

Lan Wangji thinks of his mother, and the easy lilting curl of her lips when she teases him, pinching his cheeks and settling him in her lap. 

He remembers being 6 years old and even then wondering why mother was never outdoors, when she stared out the window of her house into the far mountains with such wistfulness it ached in his little heart, too young to understand, just old enough for it to ache. 

He asked, once, what mother liked best.

“You, Zhan-er, and Huan-er,” she had said, easy as anything. He had shaken his head, stubborn.

“What else do you like?”

She had laughed, then, gathering her two sons close to lean against her robes as she carded her hands through their hair. 

“Well, my treasures, I like running.”

“But there’s no running in the Cloud Recesses, Mother.” Lan Huan had said, serious and confident as though it were an indomitable truth. 

A small smile, quiet and sad this time.

“So there isn’t, baobei. But outside the Cloud Recesses, there is an open sky, and big, wide fields without any mountains for days. In the summer, the grasses are long, and the paths are dusty. One day, you two will see the land like this, with nothing but a qiankun bag and swords beneath your little feet. And you will know freedom, and run as fast and as far as you want.” 

“Will you come with us, Mother?” Lan Wangji had asked. 

“Of course, baobei, of course I will.” 

When she had hugged them goodbye that night, Wangji did not understand why her grip had been so hard it hurt. 

---

Still Waters

Lan Zhan knows, for certain, that his reputation is founded on reality. He is, in fact, frigid and cold and carved from stone. He does not smile, and no warmth crosses his eyes.

He has heard, in passing, that he was a normal, fairly expressive child. That he and Lan Huan were good, soft and smiling and obedient. That their quiet, careful laughs echoed in their mothers house, before-

Before.

He considers that he has not smiled since he was six, after a fit of uncharacteristic disobedience had him taking a bus, alone, to where his mother lived, backpack slipping off his shoulders in the rain as he waited outside the front door.

He has lived his life since then in a sort of tranquil haze befitting his name, but tranquil in a way that frozen lakes are, beautiful and cold but deep enough to drown anybody who tries to break through the ice. It is fitting, then, that his walls are thick enough that nobody can get through and injure themselves on the sharp edges of him.

So, when he falls in love with Wei Ying, he does what he always does, and tucks that love tightly and deeply away, so that he may never hurt Wei Ying with it, so that he may never hurt himself with the intensity of feeling his uncle calls the genetic weakness of their family.

He should have known, then, that it was futile to begin with. Wei Ying had been spiraling, lashing out and bitter and so wan that it had been fraying Lan Zhan's self control for months in a sour-sick cocktail of worry and rage.

"What do you care, Lan Zhan? When have you ever cared?" Wei Ying bites out, exhausted and angry and meaning to hurt.

Let Me Help Your Aching Bones

Canon Divergence AU where Lan Zhan doesn’t run away from Wei Ying after kissing him in the Pheonix mountains. 

----- 

What if it didn’t turn out the way it did; not fire and blood and years of Wei Ying’s absence like a discordant note of a guqin song?

What if Lan Wangji catches Wei Ying right before he hatches his plan to liberate the Wen civilians? Maybe it would be something like this.

The dark circles and angry set of Wei Ying’s shoulders feels like a punch to the gut, and leaves Lan Wangji’s chest tight, out of breath. It feels like the boy he fell in love with is fading before his eyes, and Wangji must do something about it before Wei Ying is lost. He has a sour feeling in his gut, a grim certainty that if he does not reach him now, Wei Ying might forever be lost to him.

So he goes, corners Wei Ying during the Night-hunt on Phoenix mountain, pushes him up against a tree as the dusk settles around them like a lover’s embrace. He cannot help himself, despite his shame, his patience and heart frayed beyond measure after months of worrying, worrying about Wei Ying dead, and after the brief elation of hearing him alive, worrying about Wei Ying dying, eaten from inside by the resentment of the path he walks. 

He kisses him, and there is enough of the sunlit boy he fell in love with in Wei Ying’s response, fluttery and flighty, an awkward laugh even as he is pushed against a tree and kissed by a stranger. Wei Ying’s hands flex despite being pinned, and something in Lan Wangji’s heart breaks, knowing that even in this vulnerable a situation, Wei Ying is compassionate enough to not fight, to let someone take something Wangji is sure he thinks is expendable, for the sake of another. His hand pinning Wei Ying’s wrist spasms at the thought, angry that Wei Ying could give something like this away, ashamed that he himself is the one taking it, when it was not something that belonged to him. 

Wei Ying does not belong to him.

How do I shore up against Every tiny personal tragedy Held in our small palms like Fruit glistening bitter-wet How do I build up defences bricks against the saltwater tide Unending; when it is easier to buckle Into sand and other people just because They are there; pillars erected Like triage in a body unreviving I cannot build tents from the bones Of other people's ribs, no permanence In that waning shelter, the only home Is the span of my chest, too small For the bloated overflow of me Spilling into my sheets I always seem To forget how to be who I am And nobody is left to teach me

The gall to want is a sin these days And all I can do is hold myself back Reign in, back off back up I don't know How to hold in my brittle hands the blood in my veins when I look at him My palms cold, there are things I wish to grasp with bare hands, sink My teeth into the future so it won't run away People are punished for greed, but I want To turn myself to gold some days, metal Should be kinder than the trappings of My body - a hatch trammelling, Midas must have died beautiful, but there Are no stories to serve as guides for those Who wish to live out their years golden

recovery

I have left the empty houses Of my forebears, seeking always A better place to be, unclaimed Land to sink my lips against The peat soft against my cheek Barefoot now, having traded Shoes for fire, there are foundations Inside me, and space enough To make a home

‘Enough’ is a strange word, because

i can build myself back up and say,

‘cute skirt’, ‘nice legs’ and feel not

like I am nothing more than the ugly

sum of my parts – like the only thing

left from the price tag people put on me

was a square of adhesive on my body

But there is a boy, bright eyed and dark

Knees against mine and I am more afraid

of being treated well than treated badly

How would I know where I stand, 

when the other shoe never drops?

I’m trying to do my homework but I want to cry

Conversations with my brother