notshybutsly



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    Jiang Cheng just blows his breath out and rolls his eyes right back at Wei Wuxian. "Stop being an asshole," he says. "You're lucky this is being set up for you. Do you know how many people would die--literally die--to get the chance to be betrothed to Lan Wangji?"

    "Betrothed." Wei Wuxian rolls the word around in his mouth. "It even sounds stupid."

     

    Or, an arranged marriage canon-divergent fic where the war doesn't happen, the golden core loss doesn't happen, but Jiang Fengmian and Madame Yu still die, Jiang Cheng is the sect leader, and Lan Wangji is still called Hanguang-jun because, well, look at him.

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    07 Oct 2021

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    It's incredible that he doesn't cry. He must just be too tired, too wired, to let it out. Maybe his body is saving the liquid for something.

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    29 Aug 2021

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    Three months. He’ll stay three months. Just long enough for that shrimpy Zhang Chengling to wean into this new world, and then he’ll leave. Just three months he’ll allow himself that brassy, beautiful line cook, who barked the most flirtatious insult at Zhou Zishu as he charged down the cracked asphalt with a towering pallet jack of wholesale soy sauce boxes; his voice magnetic like an army general’s, clear above the rumbling gallop of his condiment fleet.

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    chaperoning a new orphan across the Pacific runs into complications.

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    06 Aug 2021

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    Full-time necromancer and part-time cam boy, Wei Wuxian, finds himself unexpectedly homeless. An enthusiastic patron comes to his rescue.

    Conversely:

    Immortal Cultivator Lan Wangji has been waiting a long time for his deceased husband to be reincarnated again. In retrospect, he should have anticipated that this is how it would go.

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    27 Jul 2021

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    Jingyi makes a sympathetic sound. “I’ve got a buddy in one of the Hefei labs, and he says there’s some evidence to suggest that people stuck in limbo develop, like, whole new neural pathways. And you go in and out of it all the time, right, so who knows what your brain is up to.” His eyes light up. “Oh man, would you let me — ”

    “Obviously no,” Wei Ying says, voice flat. “But you’re close enough to right. I can keep you all safely in the level, but it’s tiring. I can’t be both dreamer and extractor.”

    “I’ll do it,” Lan Zhan cuts in, before Jingyi can protest or Wen Yuan can ask any further questions. “It’s not a problem.”

    “Are you sure?” Wen Yuan asks, brow furrowing. “If your sub-security picks up that Xian-gege doesn’t belong — ”

    “They won’t.”

    Wei Ying frowns. “Not for nothing, ge,” he says slowly, “but the last time we were in your dream together, I fell off a cliff.”

    Lan Zhan looks up and over at him. There is something in his eyes that Wei Ying can’t quite read: something fierce, and faraway. “I remember,” he says, voice quiet. “Do you?”

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    Wei Ying takes a dream heist job with an old friend.

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    05 Jul 2021