(no subject)

[firebranding]

Inbox

video ⬤ audio ⬤ text ⬤ delivery

Jin Guangyao ⬤ The Untamed
residential district ⬤ text
Cordis ⬤ text

info ⬤ permissions ⬤ kinklist

Comments

text. after his dad's post

[inheritedpain]

Uncle

I respectfully request that you get my father to delete his post and take back any inquiries he's made to others about me.

text

[firebranding]

[GOD HE IS LIVING. it doesn’t matter what happens from now on, everything is beautiful. He smiles to himself, pleased that Jin Ling’s come to him.]

I’m sorry he’s embarrassed you like this, but take comfort in knowing he’s trying to help, in his own way. Your father was always awkward with his affections. But he’s trying.

[inheritedpain]

He doesn't need help! He's fine!!

This is literally the worst thing he's done and that was after

ugh

just tell him he doesn't need to do this

text | username: absterge | HAHA DID YOU THINK I'D FORGET

[downswing]

Choose time and place. We are to broker terms — 蓝忘机

Text; I’m mobile so pretend this is texting font I’m lazy.....

[firebranding]

Terms, Hanguang-Jun?

/forgives... forgets...

[downswing]

Armistice.

later the same damn night, in a rapid series of texts to match jiang cheng's

[inheritedpain]

uncle
uncle!!
where are you
are you at home
why aren't you answering me
you better not be dead!!
i'm serious!!!!
YOU BETTER BE OKAY
UNCLE
UNCLE
FINE
I'M COMING TO FIND YOU TOMORROW SO YOU BETTER BE AROUND

Text;

[firebranding]

[Jesus Christ.

Okay well.

This explains why his device had been blowing up and way he’d had to toss it after the first couple messages intruding on the dangerous fantasy he’d indulged himself in. He’s also very glad that Jin Ling hadn’t saw fit to run to Guangyao’s apartment right that very second. Having the yeet Xue Yang dressed as Lan Xichen out of his window wouldn’t have hurt the man—he’s survived so much worse- but it would’ve certainly spoiled the mood and Guangyao’s temperament.

He felt rather languid now, the edges filed off for between Xichen’s visit and Not!Xichen’s, uh, attention. He messaged Jiang Cheng first, because there’s an uneasy feeling about what this could be about, before finally getting around to messaging Jin Ling back.]

A-Ling. Of course I’m fine. Are you alright? Is it your father’s post again?

[inheritedpain]

no it has nothing to do with that!!

where are you i'm coming over

text; 02/20, morning

[huakongque]

Jin Guangyao. Are you able to spare a moment's time this afternoon?

text;

[firebranding]

[whomst the fuck—

Oh. The other one.

He finds himself a little wary, but...]

I have no pressing matters. What do you need?

text;

[huakongque]

Just to meet, for a moment. Would your residence suffice or shall I arrange some place else?

delivery; Feb 20 morning

[ze_uwu_jun]

[ Xichen has considered long.

In the end...

Well, in the end, Lan men will always want to bring those who they care about home. And since that is not in any way possible, he will give one small little bit of the Cloud Recesses to Meng Yao instead, for the younger man to do with as he wishes.

It's a magnolia bonsai. ]

Meng Yao,

May this day, and every day, allow you to look at new beginnings. May kindness guide your ways, and may you find the warmth that makes you at least a little happy.

I am glad that you have another chance. To discover aspects to life that were never open to you before, perhaps.

- Xichen.

[firebranding]

[Oh.

He sat for a long moment just reading and re-reading the letter before carefully finding the little tree a place of honor in his room, fingers stroking lightly over the petals.

The response he sends back is brief, but heartfelt.]

Xichen,

Thank you for this precious gift. I will be sure to take great care of both that you have given me.

Yours’,
Meng Yao

[”then” being both this tree and his life; he’s alive right now not just because of this world, but because of Xichen’s mercy as well. He wouldn’t squander either.]

FIRST OF HELICOPTER MOM CHECK-INs

[downswing]

( That moment when preserving a man's life on behalf of your brother also leaves you accountable for it in the middle of the Grand Flooding. )




Seek high ground.

It’s exactly what Meng Yao never asked for

[firebranding]

[Does it, Lan Wangji. Does it mean that.]

Your concern is touching, Hanguang-Jun. I wasn’t aware that you cared.

[unimpeachable]

[He hadn't planned on seeking Jin Guangyao out but with recent events, it seemed like he was out of options.]

...Would you be willing to meet with me and talk?

[firebranding]

[confused math lady.jpg]

Of course. Is something wrong?

[his mind is already racing with possibilities on what Xichen might’ve heard about that Meng Yao needs to do damage control on]

[downswing]

[ This is how the fisherwomen would say it: first there is no chaperone. Then, shame on both houses, Lan Wangji presents himself already stained with the flush of a hard step carried from across the marketplace. At long last, the hour, so close to sundown and the obscenity thereof.

Days after Lan Xichen's cautious collapse to drunken slumber, every hour delayed has gone wasted.

In one hand, the earnings of an envoy — (lent) gifts: cloth and a little touched pot of reds for ceremonial wear. In the other, the zither, prepared to announce Wangji of sect Lan with all the ceremony that becomes a nuisance, a plague and an intruder.

Scuttled like a rat at Meng Yao's door, he spares a few fingers' pass over the strings of the guqin to coax out strength in sound — enough of a shock wave to send glass in gentle tremble and Meng Yao's windows a-shiver.

Hello.

The guqin returns to the nethers that summoned it, the lion's share of Wangji's chroma reserves wasted on the whim of weak-willed greeting.

He calls out before Meng Yao can ignore or join him: ]

Jin Guangyao. [ No. Enough of this. His brother's — pittance is not the cultivators' chief. ] Meng Yao. Come out. You delay tea.

[firebranding]

[Oh so this is it. This is how he dies. He’s not sure what he did now to piss off the great Hanguang-jun and make him go back on their old deal, but maybe Xichen had finally had enough of him. Maybe he’d finally come to his senses and decided to send the assassin after him to rid them both of the source of misery.

Fully prepared to meet his death with as much dignity as he can still muster, Meng Yao is halfway to opening the door when he hears Wangji speak up.

The words provide no explanation. He remains completely confused and bewildered and finally pulls the door open to stare at the young man, baffled. A half second later he remembers to bow, though, the drilled-in manners aiding him when he otherwise can’t make sense of the world.]

I wasn’t aware I had an invitation for tea today.

[WHAT IS HAPPENING.]

[resurging]

[consider this a declaration of intent: wei wuxian, self-aware and appropriately versed in the comedies of shameless enticement, is inviting one and all (for some measure of all, as he is only one man with two hands) to take part in a little... experiment.]

as the snow thaws,
as new grass springs from the earth,
as the sun rises, warmer—
i offer my hand to hold,
without question,
without judgment.

-

a favor for a favor: a confidence, a deed, or a kiss. my ask: a child's toy for gusu lan's hanguang-jun, in honor of his fatherhood.

1/2

[firebranding]

[oh shit oh fuck why is Wei Wuxian contacting him WHAT DID HE DO NOW

Does this count as bothering him. He can hear the guqin strings getting close fuck it’s hanguang-jun geT IN THE VAN]

[firebranding]

[He reads and re-reads the message like 5 times before he gets a grasp on what’s happening and even then he’s still not sure it’s...actually happening. What.]

I wasn’t aware Hanguang-jun had another child. Where on earth did he procure this one at?

A boy or a girl? And what age? I can find a toy.

[Because why the fuck not. What’s he got better to do then to aid in this train wreck waiting to happen?]

text;

[menaces]

[ out of absolutely nowhere, xue yang sends meng yao a selfie of him clearly lounging in meng yao's own bed, an open bag of chips resting on his chest, the hand not taking the selfie halfway shoved into the bag. and he's bleeding. like, not a lot. but enough. there's a dark wet stain in his shirt. ]

lianfang-zun
your snack selection sucks
can you like bring home some real food?
and a cake or something
pizza!
bring pizza
and beer
and cake
and like
some grapes?
im feeling grapes
do you want some grapes?
where are you

text;

[firebranding]

[You know, it had been a pretty good day. Actually the past couple of days had been going well, honestly? He’d been disowned, sure, but he’d gotten to sit in the lap of luxury for a few hours (literally, right in Xichen’s lap), had not been thrown out of his brother-from-another-universe’s-father’s wedding immediately, and was feeling fairly chipper.

He’d even been at the store, quietly contemplating a certain sidekick that was here and feeling oddly charitable. After all, Xue Yang had been the one to last the longest. Would’ve lasted longer if Su She hadn’t mucked things up, but finding and keeping good help was so hard these days.

The Temple Showdown would’ve gone much differently if Xue Yang had been there. Meng Yao isn’t sure he would’ve won, but his loss would’ve at least been easier to swallow, in a way.

So he contemplates the various snacks and wonders if it’s good enough, considers something lasting, but can’t think of what would go good enough to not get him laughed at or some kinky remark. He figures there’s nothing he can give that wouldn’t elicit one or the other, so at best he can only hope to diminish it.

Then his device goes off. He ignores it at first, but the rest of the messages come in rapid, quick succession and for a moment he worries that it’s Jin Ling before seeing—

Ah.

He takes it all back. Xue Yang must die.]

Don’t get blood on my sheets.