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potteresque-ire · 4 years ago

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Can you talk more about the usage of the word "wife" to talk about men in the BL context? I've noticed it in BJYX (particularly with GG), in the (English translations) of MDZS, and then it came up in your recent posts about Danmei-101 (which were super helpful btw) with articles connecting the "little fresh meat" type to fans calling an actor "wife." My initial reaction as a westerner is like "this is very problematic," but I think I'm missing a lot of language/cultural context. Any thoughts?

Hello! First of all, for those who’re interested, here’s a link to the referred posts. Under the cut is arguably the 4th post of the series. As usual, I apologise for the length!

(Topics: seme and uke; more about “leftover women”; roster of feminisation terms; Daji, Bao Si & the origin of BJYX; roster of beautiful, ancient Chinese men; Chairman Mao (not part of the roster) ...)

[TW: feminisation of men]

In the traditional BL characterisation, the M/M (double male) lead pairing is essentially a cis-het relationship in disguise, in which one of the M leads is viewed as the “wife” by the creator and audience. This lead often possesses some of the features of the traditional, stereotypical female, but retaining his male appearance.

In BL terms, the “wife” is the “uke”. “Seme” and “uke” are the respective roles taken by the two male leads, and designated by the creator of the material. Literally, “seme” (攻め) means the dominant, the attacking / aggressive partner in the relationship and “uke” (受け), the passive / recipient (of actions) partner who tends to follow the seme’s lead. The terms themselves do not have any sexual / gender context. However, as male and female are viewed as aggressive and passive by their traditional social roles, and the attacker and recipient by their traditional sexual roles respectively, BL fandoms have long assigned uke, the passive, sexual “bottom”, as the “woman”, the “wife”.

Danmei has kept this “semi” and uke” tradition from BL, taking the kanji of the Japanese terms for designation ~ 攻 (”attack” is therefore the “husband”, and 受 (”receive”), the “wife”. The designations are often specified in the introduction / summary of Danmei works as warning / enticement. For MDZS, for example, MXTX wrote:

高貴冷豔悶騷攻 × 邪魅狂狷風騷受

高貴冷豔悶騷攻 = noble, coolly beautiful and boring seme (referring to LWJ) 邪魅狂狷風騷受 = devilishly charming, wild, and flirty uke (referring to WWX)

The traditional, stereotypical female traits given to the “uke”, the “wife” in Danmei and their associated fanworks range from their personality to behaviour to even biological functions. Those who have read the sex scenes in MDZS may be aware of their lack of mention of lube, while WWX was written as getting (very) wet from fluids from his colon (腸道) ~ implying that his colon, much like a vagina, was supplying the necessarily lubrication for sex. This is obviously biologically inaccurate; however, Danmei is exempt from having to be realistic by its original Tanbi definition. The genre’s primary audience is cishet females, and sex scenes such as this one aren’t aiming for realism. Rather, the primary goal of these sex scenes is to generate fantasy, and the purpose of the biologically female functions in one of the leads (WWX) is to ease the readers into imagining themselves as the one engaging in the sex.

Indeed, these practices of assigning as males and female the M/M sexual top and bottom, of emphasising of who is the top and who is the bottom, have been falling out of favour in Western slash fandoms ~ I joined fandom about 15 years ago, and top and bottom designations in slash pairings (and fights about them) were much more common than it is now. The generally more open, more progressive environments in which Western fandomers are immersed in probably have something to do with it: they transfer their RL knowledge, their views on biology, on different social into their fandom works and discourses.

I’d venture to say this: in the English-speaking fandoms, fandom values and mainstream values are converging. “Cancel culture” reflects an attempt to enforce RL values in the fictional worlds in fandom. Fandom culture is slowly, but surely, leaving its subculture status and becoming part of mainstream culture.

I’d hesitate to call c-Danmei fandoms backward compared to Western slash for this reason. There’s little hope for Danmei to converge with China’s mainstream culture in the short term ~ the necessity of replacing Danmei with Dangai in visual media already reflects that. Danmei is and will likely remain subculture in the foreseeable future, and subcultures, at heart, are protests against the mainstream. Unless China and the West define “mainstream” very similarly (and they don’t), it is difficult to compare the “progressiveness”—and its dark side, the “problematic-ness”—of the protests, which are shaped by what they’re protesting against. The “shaper” in this scenario, the mainstream values and culture, are also far more forceful under China’s authoritarian government than they are in the free(-er) world.

Danmei, therefore, necessarily takes on a different form in China than BL or slash outside China. As a creative pursuit, it serves to fulfil psychological needs that are reflective of its surrounding culture and sociopolitical environment. The genre’s “problematic” / out of place aspects in the eyes of Western fandoms are therefore, like all other aspects of the genre, tailor-made by its millions of fans to be comforting / cathartic for the unique culture and sociopolitical background it and they find themselves in.

I briefly detoured to talk about the Chinese government’s campaign to pressure young, educated Chinese women into matrimony and motherhood in the post for this reason, as it is an example of how, despite Western fandoms’ progressiveness, they may be inadequate, distant for c-Danmei fans. Again, this article is a short and a ... morbidly-entertaining read on what has been said about China’s “leftover women” (剩女) — women who are unmarried and over 27-years-old). I talked about it, because “Women should enter marriage and parenthood in their late 20s” may no longer a mainstream value in many Western societies, but where it still is, it exerts a strong influence on how women view romance, and by extension, how they interact with romantic fiction, including Danmei.

In China, this influence is made even stronger by the fact that Chinese tradition places a strong emphasis on education and holds a conservative attitude towards romance and sex. Dating while studying therefore remains discouraged in many Chinese families. University-educated Chinese women therefore have an extremely short time frame — between graduation (~23 years old) and their 27th birthday — to find “the right one” and get married, before they are labelled as “leftovers” and deemed undesirable. (Saving) face being an important aspect in Chinese culture introduces yet another layer of pressure: traditionally, women who don’t get married by the age agreed by social norms have been viewed as failures of upbringing, in that the unmarried women’s parents not having taught/trained their daughters well. Filial, unmarried women therefore try to get married “on time” just to avoid bringing shame to their family.

The outcome is this: despite the strong women characters we may see in Chinese visual media, many young Chinese women nowadays do not expect themselves to be able to marry for love. Below, I offer a “book jacket summary” of a popular internet novel in China, which shows how the associated despair also affects cis-het fictional romance. Book reviews praise this novel for being “boring”: the man and woman leads are both common working class people, the “you-and-I”’s; the mundaneness of them trying build their careers and their love life is lit by one shining light: he loves her and she loves him.

Written in her POV, this summary reflects, perhaps, the disquiet felt by many contemporary Chinese women university graduates:

曾經以為，自己這輩子都等不到了—— 世界這麼大，我又走得這麼慢，要是遇不到良人要怎麼辦？早過了「全球三十幾億男人，中國七億男人，天涯何處無芳草」的猖狂歲月，越來越清楚，循規蹈矩的生活中，我們能熟悉進而深交的異性實在太有限了，有限到我都做好了「接受他人的牽線，找個適合的男人慢慢煨熟，再平淡無奇地進入婚姻」的準備，卻在生命意外的拐彎處迎來自己的另一半。

I once thought, my wait will never come to fruition for the rest of my life — the world is so big, I’m so slow in treading it, what if I’ll never meet the one? I’ve long passed the wild days of thinking “3 billion men exist on Earth, 0.7 of which are Chinese. There is plenty more fish in the sea.” I’m seeing, with increasing clarity, that in our disciplined lives, the number of opposite-sex we can get to know, and get to know well, is so limited. It’s so limited that I’m prepared to accept someone’s matchmaking, find a suitable man and slowly, slowly, warm up to him, and then, to enter marriage with without excitement, without wonder. But then, an accidental turn in my life welcomes in my other half.

— Oath of Love (餘生，請多指教) (Yes, this is the novel Gg’d upcoming drama is based on.)

Heteronormativity is, of course, very real in China. However, that hasn’t exempted Chinese women, even its large cis-het population, from having their freedom to pursue their true love taken away from them. Even for cis-het relationships, being able to marry for love has become a fantasy —a fantasy scorned by the state. Remember this quote from Article O3 in the original post?

耽改故事大多远离现实，有些年轻受众却将其与生活混为一谈，产生不以结婚和繁衍为目的才是真爱之类的偏颇认知。

Most Dangai stories are far removed from reality; some young audience nonetheless mix them up with real life, develop biased understanding such as “only love that doesn’t treat matrimony and reproduction as destinations is true love”.

I didn’t focus on it in the previous posts, in an effort to keep the discussion on topic. But why did the op-ed piece pick this as an example of fantasy-that-shouldn’t-be-mixed-up-with-real-life, in the middle of a discussion about perceived femininity of men that actually has little to do with matrimony and reproduction?

Because the whole point behind the state’s “leftover women” campaign is precisely to get women to treat matrimony and reproduction as destinations, not beautiful sceneries that happen along the way. And they’re the state’s destination as more children = higher birth rate that leads to higher future productivity. The article is therefore calling out Danmei for challenging this “mainstream value”.

Therefore, while the statement True love doesn’t treat matrimony and reproduction as destinations may be trite for many of us while it may be a point few, if any, English-speaking fandoms may pay attention to, to the mainstream culture Danmei lives in, to the mainstream values dictated by the state, it is borderline subversive.

As much as Danmei may appear “tame” for its emphasis on beauty and romance, for it to have stood for so long, so firmly against China’s (very) forceful mainstream culture, the genre is also fundamentally rebellious. Remember: Danmei has little hope of converging with China’s mainstream unless it “sells its soul” and removes its homoerotic elements.

With rebelliousness, too, comes a bit of tongue-in-cheek.

And so, when c-Danmei fans, most of whom being cishet women who interact with the genre by its traditional BL definition, call one of the leads 老婆 (wife), it can and often take on a different flavour. As said before, it can be less about feminizing the lead than about identifying with the lead. The nickname 老婆 (wife) can be less about being disrespectful and more about humorously expressing an aspiration—the aspiration to have a husband who truly loves them, who they do want to get married and have babies with but out of freedom and not obligation.

Admittedly, I had been confused, and bothered by these “can-be”s myself. Just because there are alternate reasons for the feminisation to happen doesn’t mean the feminisation itself is excusable. But why the feminisation of M/M leads doesn’t sound as awful to me in Chinese as in English? How can calling a self-identified man 老婆 (wife) get away with not sounding being predominantly disrespectful to my ears, when I would’ve frowned at the same thing said in my vicinity in English?

I had an old hypothesis: when I was little, it was common to hear people calling acquaintances in Chinese by their unflattering traits: “Deaf-Eared Chan” (Mr Chan, who’s deaf), “Fat Old Woman Lan” (Ah-Lan, who’s an overweight woman) etc—and the acquaintances were perfectly at ease with such identifications, even introducing themselves to strangers that way. Comparatively speaking then, 老婆 (wife) is harmless, even endearing.

老婆, which literally means “old old-lady” (implying wife = the woman one gets old with), first became popularised as a colloquial, casual way of calling “wife” in Hong Kong and its Cantonese dialect, despite the term itself being about 1,500 years old. As older generations of Chinese were usually very shy about talking about their love lives, those who couldn’t help themselves and regularly spoke of their 老婆 tended to be those who loved their wives in my memory. 老婆, as a term, probably became endearing to me that way.

Maybe this is why the feminisation of M/M leads didn’t sound so bad to me?

This hypothesis was inadequate, however. This custom of identifying people by their (unflattering) traits has been diminishing in Hong Kong and China, for similar reasons it has been considered inappropriate in the West.

Also, 老婆 (wife) is not the only term used for / associated with feminisation. I’ve tried to limit the discussion to Danmei, the fictional genre; now, I’ll jump to its associated RPS genre, and specifically, the YiZhan fandoms. The purpose of this jump: with real people involved, feminisation’s effect is potentially more harmful, more acute. Easier to feel.

YiZhan fans predominantly entered the fandoms through The Untamed, and they’ve also transferred Danmei’s “seme”/“uke” customs into YiZhan. There are, therefore, three c-YiZhan fandoms:

博君一肖 (BJYX): seme Dd, uke Gg 戰山為王 (ZSWW): seme Gg, uke Dd 連瑣反應 (LSFY): riba Gg and Dd. Riba = “reversible”, and unlike “seme” and “uke”, is a frequently-used term in the Japanese gay community.

BJYX is by far the largest of the three, likely due to Gg having played WWX, the “uke” in MDZS / TU. I’ll therefore focus on this fandom, ie. Gg is the “uke”, the “wife”.

For Gg alone, I’ve seen him being also referred to by YiZhan fans as (and this is far from a complete list):

* 姐姐 (sister) * 嫂子 (wife of elder brother; Dd being the elder brother implied) * 妃妃 (based on the very first YiZhan CP name, 太妃糖 Toffee Candy, a portmanteau of sorts from Dd being the 太子 “prince” of his management company and Gg being the prince’s wife, 太子妃. 糖 = “candy”. 太妃 sounds like toffee in English and has been used as the latter’s Chinese translation.) * 美人 (beauty, as in 肖美人 “Beauty Xiao”) * Daji 妲己 (as in 肖妲己, “Daji Xiao”).

The last one needs historical context, which will also become important for explaining the new hypothesis I have.

Daji was a consort who lived three thousand years ago, whose beauty was blamed for the fall of the Shang dynasty. Gg (and men sharing similar traits, who are exceptionally rare) has been compared to Daji 妲己 for his alternatively innocent, alternatively seductive beauty ~ the kind of beauty that, in Chinese historical texts and folk lores, lead to the fall of kingdoms when possessed by the king’s beloved woman. This kind of “I-get-to-ruin-her-virginity”, “she’s a slut in MY bedroom” beauty is, of course, a stereotypical fantasy for many (cis-het) men, which included the authors of these historical texts and folklores. However, it also contained some truth: the purity / innocence, the image of a virgin, was required for an ancient woman to be chosen as a consort; the seduction, meanwhile, helped her to become the top consort, and monopolise the attention of kings and emperors who often had hundreds of wives ~ wives who often put each other in danger to eliminate competition.

Nowadays, women of tremendous beauty are still referred to by the Chinese idiom 傾國傾城, literally, ”falling countries, falling cities”. The beauty is also implied to be natural, expressed in a can’t-help-itself way, perhaps reflecting the fact that the ancient beauties on which this idiom has been used couldn’t possibly have plastic surgeries, and most of them didn’t meet a good end ~ that they had to pay a price for their beauty, and often, with their lowly status as women, as consorts, they didn’t get to choose whether they wanted to pay this price or not. This adjective is considered to be very flattering. Gg’s famous smile from the Thailand Fanmeet has been described, praised as 傾城一笑: “a smile that topples a city”.

I’m explaining Daji and 傾國傾城 because the Chinese idiom 博君一笑 “doing anything to get a smile from you”, from which the ship’s name BJYX 博君一肖 was derived (笑 and 肖 are both pronounced “xiao”), is connected to yet another of such dynasty-falling beauty, Bao Si 褒姒. Like Daji before her, Bao Si was blamed for the end of the Zhou Dynasty in 771 BC.

The legend went like this: Bao Si was melancholic, and to get her to smile, her king lit warning beacons and got his nobles to rush in from the nearby vassal states with their armies to come and rescue him, despite not being in actual danger. The nobles, in their haste, looked so frantic and dishevelled that Bao Si found it funny and smiled. Longing to see more of the smile of his favourite woman, the king would fool his nobles again and again, until his nobles no longer heeded the warning beacons when an actual rebellion came.

What the king did has been described as 博紅顏一笑, with 紅顏 (”red/flushed face”) meaning a beautiful woman, referring to Bao Si. Replace 紅顏 with the respectful “you”, 君, we get 博君一笑. If one searches the origin of the phrase 博 [fill_in_the_blank]一笑 online, Bao Si’s story shows up.

The “anything” in ”doing anything to get a smile from you” in 博君一笑, therefore, is not any favour, but something as momentous as giving away one’s own kingdom. c-turtles have remarked, to their amusement and admittedly mine, that “king”, in Chinese, is written as 王, which is Dd’s surname, and very occasionally, they jokingly compare him to the hopeless kings who’d give away everything for their love. Much like 傾國傾城 has become a flattering idiom despite the negative reputations of Daji and Bao Si for their “men-ruining ways”, 博君一笑 has become a flattering phrase, emphasising on the devotion and love rather than the ... stupidity behind the smile-inducing acts.

(Bao Si’s story, BTW, was a lie made up by historians who also lived later but also thousands of years ago, to absolve the uselessness of the king. Warning beacons didn��t exist at her time.)

Gg is arguably feminized even in his CP’s name. Gg’s feminisation is everywhere.

And here comes my confession time ~ I’ve been amused by most of the feminisation terms above. 肖妲己 (”Daji Xiao”) captures my imagination, and I remain quite partial to the CP name BJYX. Somehow, there’s something ... somewhat forgivable when the feminisation is based on Gg’s beauty, especially in the context of the historical Danmei / Dangai setting of MDZS/TU ~ something that, while doesn’t cancel, dampens the “problematic-ness” of the gender mis-identification.

What, exactly, is this something?

Here’s my new hypothesis, and hopefully I’ll manage to explain it well ~

The hypothesis is this: the unisex beauty standard for historical Chinese men and women, which is also breathtakingly similar to the modern beauty standard for Chinese women, makes feminisation in the context of Danmei (especially historical Danmei) flattering, and easier to accept.

What defined beauty in historical Chinese men? If I am to create a classically beautiful Chinese man for my new historical Danmei, how would I describe him based on what I’ve read, my cultural knowledge?

Here’s a list:

* Skin fair and smooth as white jade * Thin, even frail; narrow/slanted shoulders; tall * Dark irises and bright, starry eyes * Not too dense, neat eyebrows that are shaped like swords ~ pointed slightly upwards from the center towards the sides of the face * Depending on the dynasty, nice makeup.

Imagine these traits. How “macho” are they? How much do they fit the ideal Chinese masculine beauty advertised by Chinese government, which looks like below?

Propaganda poster, 1969. The caption says “Defeat Imperialist US! Defeat Social Imperialism!” The book’s name is “Quotations from Mao Zedong”. (Source)

Where did that list of traits I’ve written com from? Fair like jade, frail ... why are they so far from the ... “macho”ness of the men in the poster?

What has Chinese history said about its beautiful men?

Wei Jie (衛玠 286-312 BCE), one of the four most beautiful ancient Chinese men (古代四大美男) recorded in Chinese history famously passed away when fans of his beauty gathered and formed a wall around him, blocking his way. History recorded Wei as being frail with chronic illness, and was only 27 years old when he died. Arguably the first historical account of “crazy fans killing their idol”, this incident left the idiom 看殺衛玠 ~ “Wei Jie being watched to death.” ~ a not very “macho” way to die at all.

潘安 (Pan An; 247-300 BCE), another one of the four most beautiful ancient Chinese men, also had hoards of fangirls, who threw fruits and flowers at him whenever he ventured outside. The Chinese idiom 擲果盈車 “thrown fruit filling a cart” was based on Pan and ... his fandom, and denotes such scenarios of men being so beautiful that women openly displayed their affections for them.

Meanwhile, when Pan went out with his equally beautiful male friend, 夏侯湛 Xiahou Zhan, folks around them called them 連璧 ~ two connected pieces of perfect jade. Chinese Jade is white, smooth, faintly glowing in light, so delicate that it gives the impression of being somewhat transparent.

Aren’t Wei Jie and Pan An reminiscent of modern day Chinese idols, the “effeminate” “Little Fresh Meat”s (小鲜肉) so panned by Article O3? Their stories, BTW, also elucidated the historical reference in LWJ’s description of being jade-like in MDZS, and in WWX and LWJ being thrown pippas along the Gusu river bank.

Danmei, therefore, didn’t create a trend of androgynous beauty in men as much as it has borrowed the ancient, traditional definition of masculine Chinese beauty ~ the beauty that was more feminine than masculine by modern standards.

[Perhaps, CPs should be renamed 連璧 (”two connected pieces of perfect jade”) as a reminder of the aesthetics’ historical roots.]

Someone may exclaim now: But. But!! Yet another one of the four most beautiful ancient Chinese men, 高長恭 (Gao Changgong, 541-573 BCE), far better known by his title, 蘭陵王 (”the Prince of Lanling”), was a famous general. He had to be “macho”, right?

... As it turns out, not at all. Historical texts have described Gao as “貌柔心壮，音容兼美” (”soft in looks and strong at heart, beautiful face and voice”), “白美類婦人” (”fair and beautiful as a woman”), “貌若婦人” (”face like a woman”). Legends have it that The Prince of Lanling’s beauty was so soft, so lacking in authority that he had to wear a savage mask to get his soldiers to listen to his command (and win) on the battlefield (《樂府雜錄》: 以其顏貌無威，每入陣即著面具，後乃百戰百勝).

This should be emphasised: Gao’s explicitly feminine descriptions were recorded in historical texts as arguments *for* his beauty. Authors of these texts, therefore, didn’t view the feminisation as insult. In fact, they used the feminisation to drive the point home, to convince their readers that men like the Prince of Lanling were truly, absolutely good looking.

Being beautiful like a women was therefore high praise for men in, at least, significant periods in Chinese history ~ periods long and important enough for these records to survive until today. Beauty, and so it goes, had once been largely free of distinctions between the masculine and feminine.

One more example of an image of an ancient Chinese male beauty being similar to its female counterpart, because the history nerd in me finds this fun.

何晏 (He Yan, ?-249 BCE) lived in the Wei Jin era (between 2nd to 4th century), during which makeup was really en vogue. Known for his beauty, he was also famous for his love of grooming himself. The emperor, convinced that He Yan’s very fair skin was from the powder he was wearing, gave He Yan some very hot foods to eat in the middle of the summer. He Yan began to sweat, had to wipe himself with his sleeves and in the process, revealed to the emperor that his fair beauty was 100% natural ~ his skin glowed even more with the cosmetics removed (《世說新語·容止第十四》: 何平叔美姿儀，面至白。魏明帝疑其傅粉，正夏月，與熱湯餅。既啖，大汗出，以朱衣自拭，色轉皎然). His kick-cosmetics’-ass fairness won him the nickname 傅粉何郎 (”powder-wearing Mr He”).

Not only would He Yan very likely be mistaken as a woman if this scene is transferred to a modern setting, but this scene can very well fit inside a Danmei story of the 21st century and is very, very likely to get axed by the Chinese censorship board for its visualisation.

[Important observation from this anecdote: the emperor was totally into this trend too.]

The adjectives and phrases used above to describe these beautiful ancient Chinese men ~ 貌柔, 音容兼美, 白美, 美姿儀, 皎然 ~ have all become pretty much reserved for describing beauty in women nowadays. Beauty standards in ancient China were, as mentioned before, had gone through significantly long periods in which they were largely genderless. The character for beauty 美 (also in Danmei, 耽美) used to have little to no gender association. Free of gender associations as well were the names of many flowers. The characters for orchid (蘭) and lotus (蓮), for example, were commonly found in men’s names as late as the Republican era (early 20th century), but are now almost exclusively found in women’s names. Both orchid and lotus have historically been used to indicate 君子 (junzi, roughly, “gentlemen”), which have always been men. MDZS also has an example of a man named after a flower: Jin Ling’s courtesy name, given to him by WWX, was 如蘭 (”like an orchid”).

A related question may be this: why does ancient China associate beauty with fairness, with softness, with frailty? Likely, because Confucianist philosophy and customs put a heavy emphasis on scholarship ~ and scholars have mostly consisted of soft-spoken, not muscular, not working-under-the-sun type of men. More importantly, Confucianist scholars also occupied powerful government positions. Being, and looking like a Confucianist scholar was therefore associated with status. Indeed, it’s very difficult to look like jade when one was a farmer or a soldier, for example, who constantly had to toil under the sun, whose skin was constantly being dried and roughened by the elements. Having what are viewed as “macho” beauty traits as in the poster above ~ tanned skin, bulging muscles, bony structures (which also take away the jade’s smoothness) ~ were associated with hard labour, poverty and famine.

Along that line, 手無縛雞之力 (“hands without the strength to restrain a chicken”) has long been a phrase used to describe ancient scholars and students, and without scorn or derision. Love stories of old, which often centred around scholars were, accordingly, largely devoid of the plot lines of husbands physically protecting the wives, performing the equivalent of climbing up castle walls and fighting dragons etc. Instead, the faithful husbands wrote poems, combed their wife’s hair, traced their wife’s eyebrows with cosmetics (畫眉)...all activities that didn’t require much physical strength, and many of which are considered “feminine” nowadays.

Were there periods in Chinese history in which more ... sporty men and women were appreciated? Yes. the Tang dynasty, for example, and the Yuan and Qing dynasties. The Tang dynasty, as a very powerful, very open era in Chinese history, was known for its relations to the West (via the Silk Road). The Yuan and Qing dynasties, meanwhile, were established by Mongolians and Manchus respectively, who, as non-Han people, had not been under the influence of Confucian culture and grew up on horsebacks, rather than in schools.

The idea that beautiful Chinese men should have “macho” attributes was, therefore, largely a consequence of non-Han-Chinese influence, especially after early 20th century. That was when the characters for beauty (美), orchid (蘭), lotus (蓮) etc began their ... feminisation. The Chinese Communist Party (CCP), which started its reign of the country starting 1949, also has foreign roots, being a derivative of the Soviets, and its portrayal of ideal men has been based on the party’s ideology, painting them as members of the People’s Liberation Army (Chinese army) and its two major proletariat classes, farmers and industrial workers ~ all occupations that are “macho” in their aesthetics, but held at very poor esteem in ancient Chinese societies. All occupations that, to this day, may be hailed as noble by Chinese women, but not really deemed attractive by them.

Beauty, being an instinct, is perhaps much more resistant to propaganda.

If anything, the three terms Article O3 used to describe “effeminate” men ~ 奶油小生 “cream young men” (popularised in 1980s) , 花美男 “flowery beautiful men” (early 2000s), 小鲜肉 “little fresh meat” (coined in 2014 and still popular now) ~ only informs me how incredibly consistent the modern Chinese women’s view of ideal male beauty has been. It’s the same beauty the Chinese Communist Party has called feminine. It’s the same beauty found in Danmei. It’s the same beauty that, when witnessed in men in ancient China, was so revered that historians recorded it for their descendants to remember. It doesn’t mean there aren’t any women who appreciate the "macho” type ~ it’s just that, the appreciation for the non-macho type has never really gone out of fashion, never really changed. The only thing that is really changing is the name of the type, the name’s positive or negative connotations.

(Personally, I’m far more uncomfortable with the name “Little fresh meat” (小鲜肉) than 老婆 (wife). I find it much more insulting.)

Anyway, what I’d like to say is this: feminisation in Danmei ~ a genre that, by definition, is hyper-focused on aesthetics ~ may not be as "problematic” in Chinese as it is in English, because the Chinese tradition didn’t make that much of a differentiation between masculine and feminine beauty. Once again, this isn’t to say such mis-gendering isn’t disrespectful; it’s just that, perhaps, it is less disrespectful because Chinese still retains a cultural memory in which equating a beautiful man to a beautiful woman was the utmost flattery.

I must put a disclaimer here: I cannot vouch for this being true for the general Chinese population. This is something that is buried deep enough inside me that it took a lot of thought for me to tease out, to articulate. More importantly, while I grow up in a Chinese-speaking environment, I’ve never lived inside China. My history knowledge, while isn’t shabby, hasn’t been filtered through the state education system.

I’d also like to point out as well, along this line of thought, that in *certain* (definitely not all) aspects, Chinese society isn’t as sexist as the West. While historically, China has periods of extreme sexism against women, with the final dynasties of Ming and Qing being examples, I must (reluctantly) acknowledge Chairman Mao for significantly lifting the status of women during his rule. Here’s a famous quote of his from 1955:

婦女能頂半邊天 Women can lift half the skies

The first marriage code, passed in 1950, outlawed forced marriages, polygamy, and ensured equal rights between husband and wife. For the first time in centuries, women were encouraged to go outside of their homes and work. Men resisted at first, wanting to keep their wives at home; women who did work were judged poorly for their performance and given less than 50% of men’s wage, which further fuelled the men’s resistance. Mao said the above quote after a commune in Guizhou introduced the “same-work-same-wage” system to increase its productivity, and he asked for the same system to to be replicated across the country. (Source)

When Chairman Mao wanted something, it happened. Today, Chinese women’s contribution to the country’s GDP remains among the highest in the world. They make up more than half of the country’s top-scoring students. They’re the dominant gender in universities, in the ranks of local employees of international corporations in the Shanghai and Beijing central business districts—among the most sought after jobs in the country. While the inequality between men and women in the workplace is no where near wiped out — stories about women having to sleep with higher-ups to climb the career ladder, or even get their PhDs are not unheard of, and the central rulership of the Chinese Communist Party has been famously short of women — the leap in women’s rights has been significant over the past century, perhaps because of how little rights there had been before ~ at the start of the 20th century, most Chinese women from relatively well-to-do families still practised foot-binding, in which their feet were literally crushed during childhood in the name of beauty, of status symbol. They couldn’t even walk properly.

Perhaps, the contemporary Chinese women’s economic contribution makes the sexism they encounter in their lives, from the lack of reproductive rights to the “leftover women” label, even harder to swallow. It makes their fantasies fly to even higher, more defiant heights. The popularity of Dangai right now is pretty much driven by women, as acknowledged by Article O3. Young women, especially, female fans who people have dismissed as “immature”, “crazy”, are responsible for the threat the Chinese government is feeling now by the genre.

This is no small feat. While the Chinese government complains about the “effeminate” men from Danmei / Dangai, its propaganda has been heavily reliant on stars who have risen to popularity to these genres. The film Dd is currently shooting, Chinese Peacekeeping Force (維和部隊), also stars Huang Jingyu (黄景瑜), and Zhang Zhehan (張哲瀚) ~ the three actors having shot to fame from The Untamed (Dangai), Addicted (Danmei), and Word of Honour (Dangai) respectively. Zhang, in particular, played the “uke” role in Word of Honour and has also been called 老婆 (wife) by his fans. The quote in Article O3, “Ten years as a tough man known by none; one day as a beauty known by all” was also implicitly referring to him.

Perhaps, the government will eventually realise that millennia-old standards of beauty are difficult to bend, and by extension, what is considered appropriate gender expression of Chinese men and women.

In the metas I’ve posted, therefore, I’ve hesitated in using terms such as homophobia, sexism, and ageism etc, opting instead to make long-winded explanations that essentially amount to these terms (thank you everyone who’s reading for your patience!). Because while the consequence is similar—certain fraction of the populations are subjected to systemic discrimination, abuse, given less rights, treated as inferior etc—these words, in English, also come with their own context, their own assumptions that may not apply to the situation. It reminds me of what Leo Tolstoy wrote in Anna Karenina,

“All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”

Discrimination in each country, each culture is humiliating, unhappy in its own way. Both sexism and homophobia are rampant in China, but as their roots are different from those of the West, the ways they manifest are different, and so must the paths to their dissolution. I’ve also hesitated on calling out individual behaviours or confronting individuals for this reason. i-Danmei fandoms are where i-fans and c-fans meet, where English-speaking doesn’t guarantee a non-Chinese sociopolitical background (there may be students from China, for example; I’m also ... not entirely Western), and I find it difficult to articulate appropriate, convincing arguments without knowing individual backgrounds.

Frankly, I’m not sure if I’ve done the right thing. Because I do hope feminisation will soon fade into extinction, especially in i-Danmei fandoms that, if they continue to prosper on international platforms, may eventually split from c-Danmei fandoms along the cultural (not language) line due to the vast differences in environmental constraints. My hope is especially true when real people are involved, and c-fandoms, I’d like to note, are not unaware of the issues surrounding feminisation ~ it has already been explicitly forbidden in BJYX’s supertopic on Weibo.

At the same time, I’ve spent so many words above to try to explain why beauty can *sometimes* lurk behind such feminisations. Please allow me to end this post with one example of feminisation that I deeply dislike—and I’ve seen it used by fans on Gg as well—is 綠茶 (”green tea”), from 綠茶婊 (”green tea whore”) that means women who look pure / innocent but are, deep down, promiscuous / lustful. In some ways, its meaning isn’t so different from Daji 妲己, the consort blamed for the fall of the Shang dynasty. However, to me at least, the flattery in the feminisation is gone, perhaps because of the character “whore” (婊), because the term originated in 2013 from a notorious sex party rather than from a legendary beauty so maligned that The Investiture of the Gods (封神演義), the seminal Chinese fiction written ~2,600 years after Daji’s death, re-imagined her as a malevolent fox spirit (狐狸精) that many still remembers her as today.

Ah, to be caught between two cultures. :)

#tell-me-everything #pie metas #yizhan #bjyx

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mxtxfanworkbook · 3 years ago

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Store now Open!

The Radiance MXTX Anthology preorder form is open Jan 9 - Feb 12! See the thread for bundles and stretch goals~

Preorder here: http://radiance-store.carrd.co

Bundle info below!

STARDUST

Anthology Bundle + Merch add-ons

Paperback: $15 USD

Hardcover w/ dust jacket: $25 USD 6x9 inch book with 350+ pages of art and writing!

Merch add-ons for Starburst Bundle Prints: $3 each Sticker sheets: $4 each Charm/standee: $5 each Tote Bag: $12

AURORA

Merch-only Bundles (SVSSS or TGCF or MDZS-specific bundles): $24 each; 1 print, 1 sticker sheet, 1 charm/standee, 1 tote bag

All merch: $45; 3 prints, 3 sticker sheets, 3 charms/standees, 1 tote bag

NEBULA

Full Bundle

Paperback version: $55

Hardcover version: $65

Includes: 1 anthology, 3 prints, 3 sticker sheets, 3 charm/standee hybrids, 1 tote bag

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tangledinmdzs · 4 years ago

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an mdzs valetines~ [D-3]

mdzs characters as your high school sweethearts!

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Nie Mingjue

high school jock boyfriend

part of your school’s football team

you’ve been lucky to know each other before his big fame and title in the jungle that is high school

growing up with one another at the same neighborhood, you’d been friends with Mingjue for a large portion of your life

which is why you know (for all of his gruffness and looks) he’s actually just a shy boy

that’s why everyone is always kind of flabbergasted at you guys as a couple

because you’re so

smile-y

happy

100% not intimidated by their school team’s wide receiver

and also it makes the other students swoon whenever they see the smallest tiniest gestures that Mingjue would save just for you

like giving you some of his lunch (extra portions) because he knew you liked baby carrots or the chocolate pudding from the cafeteria

or how his lips lift ever so slightly whenever you run up to him and his team after practice with his big bomber jacket

but to you, you know that isn’t even the most of Mingjue’s romantic capabilities

you know that very well with him when you’re both alone

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Xue Yang

school’s biggest prankster

and the detention’s room most active participant

which is why he’s surprised to see someone sitting close to his ‘designated’ spot when he enters for his time today

you’ve never been in detention before

often being in good academic standing and on good behavior, this was the place that you wouldn’t dare wish to be in

but alas

you were late to class today after having lunch outside

and your history teacher had always been known to be unnecessarily harsh

at least it’s just a tardy, so you only have 15 minutes

you startle slightly when the table rattles next to you, breaking the silence in the room

when you look up, you find curious eyes inquiring you

“why isn’t it goodie too shoes y/n”

you groan to yourself

you’ve always known Xue Yang either passively or from the two classes you’ve had with him

and he wasn’t as scary as much as he was just annoying

you roll your eyes, leaning back in your seat and keeping silent

you don’t need to say anything to him (also you don’t need another reason to stay in detention longer)

“aww, c’mon y/n, why the cold shoulder” Xue Yang continues to tease, leaning on the table and staring at your profile

when he sees that you don’t budge, he leans a bit closer on his table, smiling as he speaks,

“why don’t you keep me company like you do in calculus, you know? like letting me copy your answer-”

“shut up!” you tell him, loudly,

because it had been one time and it was completely unintentional-

“no noise! 10 more minutes to your time, y/n”

your widened eyes turn to glare at Xue Yang, but he just leans on his desk, smiles at you and begins to talk again

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Xiao Xingchen

star student in your homeroom

kind angel that helps everyone that you don’t think you ever have the chance to get close to

because you were the new transfer in the middle of the year

the prime time where everyone’s cliques had already formed

and you just weren’t the person that seemed interesting enough for anyone to befriend, aside from the fact that you were ‘new’

but because you had just arrived, Xingchen was the person that you were paired up with most of the time because he knew all the going ons very well

although that was kind of the hinderances to you getting any friends (because everyone wanted to be partners with him and you didn’t even have to try)

you gain a friend in him

he’s soft spoken and likable in every way

making up for your terse words and rather quiet personality all together

and when he introduces you to his friend group

you’re happy that you have someone

and he’s more than happy to have someone like you in his life

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Song Lan

the quiet library book worm

was what you had first thought when you meet him in study hall during your free hour

but that aesthetic was sadly knocked down when you see that he’s really using his book as a cover for texting on his phone during study hall

you teachers have always been strict about that, but well Song Lan was obviously very smart

anyways it doesn’t take you long to figure out that he’s not actually into books

and soon it doesn’t take long for him to see that you know about his cover

so since study hall is kind of a bore (for him anyways)

you guys start exchanging notes

and it hasn’t been the same since

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protect-namine · 3 years ago

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omg the kr book covers of mdzs (dust jackets removed) actually feature different weapons!! that's so neat.

although I'm bad at recognizing them... does anyone know which weapon is which? all I got is that the first book should be bichen and chenqing. second book has wangji (the guqin). third book has zidian so I'm guessing the sword it accompanies is suibian (they have the same handle design too, and thematically it makes sense for them to be together).

not sure what the swords in books 2 and 4 are. book 4 looks like it might be a nie sabre, so probably nmj's baxia? one of the swords is probably jzx's sword that jin ling inherited (suihua) but I always imagined it to be... not big, so I think it's the sword in book 4. by process of elimination, that means book 2 probably lxc's shuoye (which makes sense since it's paired with wangji; also big swords like that need that Lan Arm Strength by default).

but again I'm not sure. if anyone else has the kr books lemme know which ones I got wrong lol

#mine musings #liveblogging mdzs #i'm not sureee bc i also imagined suibian to be thinner like suihua #but surprisingly it looks bigger than i expected??#lans get the claymores bc Lan Arm StrengthTM but i always imagined the jins and wwx with thinner swords #then again! the jiangs are archery pros and you need a lotta arm strength for that right? so hm yeah #also uhh sorry i didn't really take the time to take better photos. i was so excited to have the books lol #it doesn't show in the pictures bc of lighting probably but the covers are in different colors! book 2 is purple and book 4 is blue

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intoxicatingimmediacy · 4 years ago

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Fandom Fic Rec Days - CQL/MDZS

I bring you FIC RECS! ENJOY! And to our beloved writers - THANK YOU! I don’t have the words to express my gratitude for how much joy you bring into the world.

Under the cut there will be pining, there will be devotion, there will probably (definitely) be kink, and most of all there will be rampant wangxian.

For my first ever fic rec post, these are the first stories I thought of without checking my downloads. Some I read long enough ago that I don’t remember them exactly, but they must've hit me hard enough to recall their names off the top of my head. Some of them are definitely top tier ultimate favourites, but many of those are also missing from this list as I’ve spent the last year in Severe Lockdown feat. Hours Of Ao3 Every Day.

A caveat: I read wide - as in, I enjoy interpretations of the characters that contradict how I experience them in canon, as long as they have internal consistency. For example, in canon WWX doesn't read as self-loathing to me - he’s seethes confidence in his abilities; it's his place in the world that he struggles with - but I thoroughly enjoy fics rooted in self-worth issues. So, YMMV.

In the same vein, I like pure CQL, pure MDZS, and mash-ups, as well as RPF; my squicks are few and far between, my triggers nonexistent, and I have happily eaten many a dead dove. For our yown safety, read the tags.

+ Linger in the Sun by etymologyplayground, Teen/39k

"Tell Lan Zhan that I'm weeping uncontrollably," Wei Wuxian says to the juniors. "Tell him I'm truly pitiful and he needs to do everything I say until I'm well again."

Lan Congyi is in the middle of carefully holding his eyelids open to check his pupils, but he still obeys, bless him. "Hanguang-Jun, Senior Wei would like us to tell you that he can't stop crying and he'd like for you to do everything he says until he's better." There's a moment of silence, and then Lan Congyi says to Wei Wuxian, "Hanguang-Jun says he already does everything you tell him."

- Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji find themselves cursed, unable to see or hear each other. They figure things out anyway.

(I remember reading this on a long train ride home over a year ago, so spellbound even after finishing, that I alighted a stop too early.)

+ The Absolutely True Story of the Yiling Patriarch by aubreyli, Teen/20k

Wei Wuxian’s hand jolts, spilling a drop of wine onto the tabletop. “Love?” he croaks, then clears his throat and tries again. “Lan Zh— uh, Hanguang-jun, in love?”

“Have you not heard the story?” the other young woman asks, looking pitying. “You must, it is a truly heartrending tale of star-crossed romance and mutual pining — go to any storyhouse in town, everyone has been requesting a reading of this book.”

“There’s a book?” Wei Wuxian says blankly.

- In which the junior disciples (namely, Lan Jingyi, Ouyang Zizhen, and a reluctant Lan Sizhui) turn to RPF in an attempt to rehabilitate Wei Wuxian's reputation so that he and Hanguang-jun can get together and get married and live happily ever after. It's… surprisingly effective.

(My original comment, because it’s been too long, I think it’s long overdue a re-read: ‘Pure joy! This made my whole week. My cheeks ache from all the giddy smiling at my screen.’)

+ An Account of His Days by theherocomplex, Teen/3k

Someone, someday, may read it, though what they will gain from doing so is anyone's guess. They will learn he loves Wei Wuxian, but that is no secret. It never was.

(Utterly gorgeous and so very much exactly how I headcanon LWJ's inner life.)

+ (our friendship) up against the ropes by daltoneering, Explicit/36k

The reboot completes, and Wei Ying’s brain smashes this information together into two mind-shattering thoughts. Number one, he knew very well already, and is now further seared by defined muscles and a mouth-watering tattoo into his every waking moment: Lan Zhan is the hottest fucking person on the planet.

Number two: that guy wasn’t visiting Lan Zhan’s neighbour, he was visiting Lan Zhan, which means:

Lan Zhan fucks.

- Lan Zhan has been Wei Ying's best friend for years. Literally, years. How did he not already know? How has he missed this most important of facts? And more importantly, how is he ever going to get over it?

(My salivating comment upon the first read: ‘Ah I'm so glad I waited until you had finished posting the whole glorious thing so I could inhale it in one delicious go. Not that I did, I had to take a break twice, just so that it'd last longer, so I could live with it in my brain for a few hours more.’)

+ Meng Yao vs. the Board of the Homeowner's Association by Ariaste, Mature/114k (as of this post, series not concluded)

Two gremlins, their husbands, and the horrible HOA board. As long as nobody gets arrested for arson or murder, we're gonna call it a win.

(Mainly XiYao, with WangXian secondary, but this one is really about the ridiculously stupendously funny. As in, I discovered new sounds coming from myself, ever escalating levels of snortcackling.)

+ For a Good Time, Call by ScarlettStorm, Explicit/171k

The picture is of Wei Ying, that much is clear. It’s of a lot more of Wei Ying than Lan Zhan is used to seeing. He supposes that, technically, Wei Ying is dressed. It’s a bare technicality, since one of Wei Ying’s hands has rucked up his black tank top practically to his collarbone, showing a long expanse of abdomen and one nipple. Sweat beads on his sternum, catching the light like jewels. His other hand is--Lan Zhan feels his eyes widen, as though unable to look away from a train wreck--on his hip, one thumb tugging down the waistband of a pair of red briefs. Wei Ying is biting his lower lip and looking directly into the camera, sultry, his eyes dark and inviting. His erection is obvious, outlined against the red of the briefs and framed carefully with the hand on his hip. Lan Zhan’s brain goes wildly, screamingly blank.

Or: Lan Zhan accidentally finds his best friend's OnlyFans account and has an ongoing emotional crisis.

(This one has so much, the funny, the painful, the smut, it has such meaty substance to it. I get a craving every few weeks to re-read and it never fails to make my belly go swoop. ‘Just... one of the most satisfying reads EVER.’)

RPF

+ Fixtures and Fittings by ella_minnow, Explicit/42k

The client is tall and slim, the padded leather motorcycle jacket he wears adding artificial bulk to his upper body which angles sharply in to slender legs braced wide on either side of the bike. His face is fine-boned and delicate and -

Very, very familiar.

It’s a face that Xiao Zhan has seen daily for the last several months, although never in real life. No, he’s used to seeing it through his kitchen window, twelve feet tall on the billboard that graces the side of the building down the block from his apartment.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It’s Wang Yibo.

(One of my very first loves in this fandom way back when; wonderfully engaging and detailed.)

+ The Scent of Happiness by mrsronweasley, Explicit/49k

He raises his head up at the drinks menu and that's when the guy behind the counter turns around and greets them both with a smile.

Oh.

Yibo is aware that he's staring, but he just. Can't stop. The guy is tall--taller than Yibo—with long hair tied loosely into a bun. Soft bangs cover his forehead, with longer tendrils framing the most beautiful face Yibo has ever seen on a human person. And Yibo has met a lot of beautiful human people.

(My flailing comment upon first reading: ‘Some moments you had me literally, physically breathless. I kept copypasting exceptionally exquisite sentences out to flail over their particulars but the list got too long. I feel like my ribcage has been cracked open and my heart is bigger after having read your gorgeous words.’ I think I enjoyed it.)

#ficrecdays #wangxian #cql #the untamed #fic rec #mdzs #yizhan #fanfic #bless all you creators

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rosethornewrites · 3 years ago

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T and G rated fics I read this weekend!

This is all The Untamed/MDZS fics.

So I learned last week that I can only add 100 links. And I read over 100 fics 😬 so now this is gonna be two posts. Additionally, I’ll likely start posting these daily from now on. It just gets to be a lot.

Finished:

Tumblr Fics:

BEETOBER 2021 DAY 2 - EARRING, by @bloody-bee-tea

Rated T:

find a home in him, by makebelieveanything and nerdzeword

“Come on a-Cheng, let’s go,” she prodded, gently ushering him out the door as she handed off jackets to both boys.

“Why the fuck is he always doing stupid shit and making us run after him for?” Jiang Cheng complained as he shrugged into his jacket, Lan Wangji donning his own in silence.

“Wangji?” Yanli prodded gently. “Are you alright?”

“... what if we never find him?”

“We will,” Yanli said confidently.

or Modern AU where Wei Wuxian runs away from his foster home when he turns 18, and it doesn't end the way he planned.

My Brother's Keeper - Purple Years (The first stage of grief), by ArchiveWriter

Set after WWX plunges from the cliff after the battle at Nightless City. The ramblings of Jiang Cheng's mind in the first stage of grief, flicking back and forth between the past and then.

thank you, drunk me, by carmiemaybe (glazedlilies)

Or where Lan Zhan is confused at Wei Ying's behaviour after the previous, drunken night's events.

This Grave Will Not Be Mine, by Rana Eros (ranalore)

The Burial Mounds' claim to Wei Wuxian has been superceded.

Qinghe Jue, by Merinnan

Nie Mingjue promised to protect his brother. He wasn't going to let qi deviating and dying at Jinlintai stop him from keeping that promise.

With What Proof, by Preludian_Staves

"I know he did it!"

"What proof do you have?"

Meeting the Family, by sami (part of a series)

Wei Wuxian has a secret.

I’ll stick to my single-log bridge till it’s dark, by autumncolour

Can’t anyone give me a nice, favorable road to walk on?

Lan Wangji leaves the Burial Mounds. Wei Wuxian gets drunk. The night in Yiling is clear and dark, and full of thick, half-understood longing.

Love Me on the Sunlit Grass, by Eliza (second in a series)

Zizhen will always be there when Jin Ling calls in a panic about his uncle.

the mutability of survival, by tunnelOFdawn

All the ways Lan Zhan, Wei Ying, and Jiang Cheng could have died in canon.

i'll keep walking, by justdoityoufucker

Wen Qing died.

This, she knows; from the painful lick of flames to the unavoidable choking that came with the smoke to the wickedly satisfied grin on Jin Guangshan’s face before she closed her eyes the last time. She hoped, those last few moments, that it would be the end. Wei Wuxian would be free, and the last remnants of their family would be safe. She hoped that Wen Ning wouldn’t feel any pain, when the time came for him to follow her.

Or, the one where Wen Qing ends up in the past and fixes the future.

Rated G:

天涯之外 / beyond the world's end, by yuer (vintageblueskies)

"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji says, his voice cracks open in a way Wei Wuxian has never heard before. He crosses over to where Wei Wuxian is still sitting; Wei Wuxian starts to scramble up, but Lan Wangji just shakes his head, gets to his knees next to him. And isn't that something? The untouchable Hanguang-jun on his knees in the Burial Mounds, dirtying his pristine robes to sit next to Wei Wuxian.

or, lan wangji returns to the burial mounds

Song of My Heart, Mate of My Soul, by SakuraKage

The Gusu Lan are said to have an innate connection with music. The Gusu Lan are also said to love deeply – with their whole soul – so deeply that they seem to only be able to fall in love once.

Lan Wangji knows these rumours. He also knows the truth, or close to it, as it has been handed down through the generations. Their connection to music runs far deeper than the other sects could dream. Every Lan heart contains a song, a musical piece that encapsulates the very fiber of their being, and it only comes to life under a specific set of circumstances. The parameters to unlock your heartsong are highly disputed, but the generally accepted condition to fill is … to meet your soulmate.

see your face, hear my voice in the dark, by arypls

Wei Wuxian is having trouble falling asleep but Lan Wangji is there with gentle words and soothing touches to show his husband he's no longer alone.

If I knew what safety looked like, by askanis

Beautiful, brave Wei Ying is waiting for Lan Zhan to tell her she cannot be all of who she is. She will listen, if Lan Zhan says this. If Lan Zhan even looks uncomfortable, Wei Ying will take this back and never mention it again. Will pretend that this is not her truth, perhaps until she believes it herself.

And Lan Zhan will never get to fully see Wei Ying for who Wei Ying is.

underneath the magnolias, by krizzlesandblues

Summer in Cloud Recesses means iced fruits sent by merchants, more practical trainings for juniors, with some of them catching up on their lessons.

But for the youngest members of GusuLan Sect, summer means classes under the big magnolia tree.

Word Up, Talk the Talk, by Larryissocute

It wouldn’t have been a problem (it really wouldn’t) if they weren’t best friends. Wei Wuxian doesn’t know what good deeds he did in his past life to be blessed with Lan Wangji as a friend nor does he know what evil things he did to be cursed with being only a friend to Lan Wangji.

Or the one where Wei Wuxian kisses Lan Wangji and then runs away.

Hai Shi — Sleeping Hours, by Saint Er (wwxsays_er)

It's right before bedtime, when a drunk Wei Wuxian shows up on Lan Wangji's door, and suddenly, this has now become Lan Wangji's problem.

In the Silence, by XianleDianxia

With his husband and son on a night hunt, Wei Wuxian is left to his own thoughts. His temperament is not as calm as Lan Wangji would like it to be.

intervention (how to convince your very gay brother that he, is in fact, gay), by okok29

"You guys hold hands all the time around campus and he takes you out to brunch every Saturday. He even brings you roses," Jiang Cheng emphasizes.

"Yeah, as bros do!" Wei Ying says cheerfully.

jiang cheng tries to forcibly drag wei ying out of the closet.

No Regrets, by Sarehz

Lan Zhan gives his forehead ribbon to Wei Wuxian as a sign of his love.

Look Down to Reminisce About My Hometown, by Nadat (one-shot series)

A collection of short stories following a Promptember list; will add tags and alter the rating as appropriate. It will be mostly live action show canon but I may borrow here and there from the book if something strikes me.

jin ling's uncles and aunts, by saheeli

jin zixuan invites all of jin ling's uncles and aunts to his birthday party. there are more than he even thought possible.

Helianthus, by tinykira

"Say, Lan Zhan. Do you know that when people die, they become plants?"

The Jingshi, which was formerly called as The Gentian House, is now also full of sunflowers.

Magical Marriage Ribbons, by starandrea

But consider this: the Lan forehead ribbons are magical, and the mountain knows it. (It takes Wei Ying less than a day after Lan Yi’s cave to realize more than just her wards consider him family.)

Or: If you’re accidentally betrothed to your classmate in a mostly legitimate life or death situation, how long can you wait to tell him before he finds out by accident?

their mothers sons, by silversshadow

In one world Jiang Fengmian gave Wei Ying more attention than he did either of his own children. In this world he can barely look at the child.

A series of short looks into a different timeline.

You blow me away, by silverclaw

Lan Zhan’s neighbour is playing a song that has been stuck in his head for ages. The neighbour just so happens to be the singer of said song and he’s supposedly laying low.

Echo Of My Heart, by ColdBloodedReptile

A short insight of Lan Wangji's thoughts during Dafan Mountain, CQL version.

And the scene in Jingshi before Wei Wuxian wakes ft Lan Sizhui.

A new score, by Lhaewiel

Wei Wuxian does not know this new score. It is evening, Gusu looks like a painting during this time of the year, with snow slowly falling down and covering the court outside.

Parallel Lines, by Sarehz

Wei Ying: Lan Zhan is going to break up with me!

Nie Huaisang: No, he's not. But please tell me in great detail why you think that.

Jiang Cheng: [Unfortunately sharing an apartment with Nie Huaisang and therefore has no choice but to listen] Please leave me out of this.

Why Wei Ying Shouldn’t Matchmake, by PrinceJakeFireCake

Lan Wangji is NOT jealous of Jiang Cheng. He’s just trying to figure out why Wei Ying likes him so much. Wei Ying thinks it’s great that Lan Zhan has a crush on his brother. (Hint: he does not)

to home, by Guinny (4 chapters)

'My Wei Ying,

It seems that we are winning the war. Wait for me. I will come home. I will come home to you. We will spend the rest of our lives in peace. Far from all of this. In a place that is quiet and there's only us.

Yours,

Lan Zhan.’

if you love him, never let go, by cloud_wanderer

three times lan wangji let go, and the one time he swore to never do it again

Hard to forget, by Lucky_Moonly

“Aiya sorry for interrupting what must be a very interesting read,” a boy who seemed to be a first year as well, cheekily exclaimed, before he smiled widely at Lan Wangji and he stepped inside the compartment. “But did you perchance see my pet axolotl? He’s black and he’s missing one of his front legs!”

in sickness & in flames, by talesfromthecryptid (2 chapters)

the one in which lan wangji has a cold and wei wuxian fusses over him and falls even more in love with him, something he didn't even know was possible but oh, it really is.

learning and the dead, by northofallmusic (tofsla)

In a small house of his own, after everything, Wen Ning works with his hands.

Unpredictable, by canis_m

If Lan Wangji had said a few more things while drunk in Qinghe.

Waited For Precious Moments Such As This, by Preludian_Staves

He would not trade these precious moments away for anything in the world.

Unfinished:

Rated T:

No Regrets, by AluraRose

Lan Wangji took a deep breath, centered himself, and swallowed his pride.

“I apologize.” He bowed low to Jiang Wanyin and held it. “I wish only to help your brother. I humbly request access, and give my word that I will touch nothing and speak to no one of what I see.”

“I can’t just let you in there!”

“Even to save Wei Ying?”

And suddenly the wind seemed to go out of the sails of Jiang Wanyin’s anger. “I can’t” he repeated more quietly.

In order to save Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji must first convince Jiang Wanyin to trust him.

Your Name On My Chest, by Director_XuanWu

Lan Wangji is the president, at the beginning of his second year on his first term.

Wei Wuxian, his ex fiancé, was dishonorably discharged from the military because of a well hidden scandal.

They meet again after 13 years. Lan Wangji will drop everything for him. Wei Wuxian will sacrifice himself for him again. What does it take to finally be together? Too many goodbyes, too many heartaches. Yet they conquer all.

Whatever it takes, by Moonlit_dewdrops

Jiang Cheng and Wei WuXian are sent back to the past. This time, they can save everyone they love. They can make the right choices. They can learn to trust one another. However, everything comes with a price.

underneath your skin, by tardigradeschool

Wei Wuxian falls into the Burial Mounds. His body walks out.

White Flames in a Red Sky, by ZipZapZop

Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to run away in the middle of a snowstorm.

Wei Wuxian needs help, but he can’t understand that for the life of him.

and so it goes, by doyeorem (pomellogranate)

"While a person is dead in one particular moment, they are still alive and well in all of the other moments of their life, because all of time exists at once."

In which Hanguang-jun is at Qiongqi Path, and instead of Jin Zixuan's death, he witnesses Wei Ying throw himself in the way of a punch from the Ghost General, and three swords - one of which is Bichen.

The Burial Mounds is enraged and offended, and many suffer for it.

Purgatory Divinity, by sinfulempire

"Your third and final mission is to rewrite history, Wei Wuxian."

In which Wei Wuxian, the son of the Heavenly Demon Empress, Cangse Sanren and the Celestial, Wei Changze has to rewrite history in order to prove himself worthy of the throne, however, this was a mission that he did not sign himself up for.

[WARNING!! WARNING!! System error, system erro-]

"What-"

Upon accepting the mission, Wei Wuxian found himself back in the past. He had returned to his 6 year old body accompanied by the system at the dingy streets of Yiling- far before Jiang Fengmian had found him and took him in.

Wei Wuxian was alone and surrounded by numerous hound dogs.

Rated G:

Coil Tightly, by Thunderstruck (Blueyed_Impala)

When Wei Wuxian stumbles across a shady pet store in the back alley of his new town he ends up leaving with a companion for life, and more than he bargained for.

Forced apologies, by Io_Palladium

Jiang Cheng confronts Lan Zhan after Wei Yings punishment and it changes everything.

#the untamed #mo dao zu shi #chen qing ling #cql #mdzs #untamed fanfiction

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zhuilingyizhen · 4 years ago

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mdzs juniors // modern looks

trousers? idk her.

Lan Jingyi

being the fashion diva he is, you know he takes great care of himself. his hair is always really soft and he has a skincare routine he follows religiously.

the ends of his hair (which is still v. long, bc i need ponytail ljy, but he cuts it sometimes) are dyed blue, and he wears his hair in a ponytail.

only his right ear is pierced at first, but he gets the other one pierced too so he can wear long dangly earrings.

jingyi’s fashion taste is definitely the most out there, compared to the other juniors. he prefers dresses over skirts (but likes both of em), and hates jean shorts but likes jeans.

he wears a lot of light blues, and l e a t h e r

(not neccessarily together though. he has a black leather jacket he wears with red)

go-to outfit is a white tee or crop top paired with high-waisted jeans. probably wears checkered vans or something, but also likes leather boots. despises heels.

he also likes ripped jeans & graphic shirts, but can and will enjoy wearing a cropped tank top with a short skirt.

loves experimenting with makeup and nails, especially doing up his eyes

eyeliner!!!!!!

sometimes he goes out wearing a hot dog costume just to hurt jin ling. oyzz thinks it’s both the worst and best thing ever. lsz is facepalming so hard rn...

(but he loves them. most of the time.)

Ouyang Zizhen

cropped hoodies. jl thinks they’re an abomination.

go-to outfit is a short-ish brown-beige hoodie with a plaid skirt.

wears the most jewelry!!

a jade necklace lsz gave him on his 16th birthday. emerald earrings jl gave him. (ljy got him a 5-year book subscription to this one book box company).

he also has a flower hairpiece his sister gifted to him. his hair’s just long enough to tie up in a bun

smells like ginger lilies. it’s the perfume.

the ends of his hair are dyed this bluish-green?? idk how to describe it but if you’re on tumblr you probably know what i mean.

wears very cutesy stuff, but hates overly tight clothing (only cause it’s not comfortable for him, if you wanna wear clothing like that, go for it!)

will wear yoga pants, but never black on black bc he likes color.

has really soft clothing. probably the most diverse in texture of clothing.

changes the color of his nails like every other week. fools around with them a lot, and is pretty good at them now.

pastels!! flowy clothing!!

everything has to be matching. he has like five different phone-cases (they were on sale) to match certain outfits.

randomly has this galaxy cat shirt that he adores.

sometimes wears color-changing contacts for fun, or to match an outfit.

sometimes wears concealer, but not much more makeup than that. special occasions call for eyeshadow!! absolutely rocks a smokey eye.

ugh he’s just so soft

Lan Sizhui

sometimes will wear cropped tops, but only with a blazer/cardigan.

hates collared shirts with a passion. is forced to wear them anyways.

not as fashionable as oyzz & ljy. as a child be basically wore the same outfit in different colors everyday.

really likes floral patterns!!

kpop idol hairstyle. it’s like that short messy-but-not-really kinda way.

puts on clear nail polish. he and oyzz do nails together once or twice a month.

a lot of blues, greys, and whites.

wears vampire sleeves?? idk how to explain it. they’re like... poofy but elegant.

skinny jeans!! he likes the dark blue ones.

turtlenecks!!

likes lacy clothing! or just lace in general. he thinks it’s pretty.

in place of headbands, he and ljy have these woven cloth bracelets they wear almost 24/7.

wore a white dress once and the other juniors almost died,, it was amazing on him

doesn’t wear any facial makeup (once almost stabbed himself in the eye with a eyeliner pencil, has never recovered)

likes wearing flats.

has this one cross earring hat he wears on his right ear, to really complete the soft bad boi/idol look.

has this white flowy button-up that he adores. wears it all the time, with black yoga pants or dark blue jeans!

Jin Ling

the most floofy, oversized clothing. will bury himself in a comfy sweatshirt or hoodie and never leave.

surprisingly the only one of them who likes heels, cause they make him taller.

longer hair than oyzz, but shorter than ljy’s. wears it in a ponytail, with bangs framing his face (kinda like jzx’s hairstyle)

when he isn’t wearing a hoodie or sweatshirt, he’ll steal Jingyi’s beloved black leather jacket. Jingyi doesn’t really mind, bc he lives for jl dressing up.

the outfits ljy makes jl try on are scary.

will wear dresses and doesn’t give a fuck about what anyone has to say about it.

has a thing for ribbons. idk why-

not a fan of plaid or patterns in general. however (unrelated), he will wear eyeliner/mascara on special occasions.

oyzz gifted him a lotus fragrance. he has no idea what to do with it though.

sometimes wears pink lip gloss.

he wears a lot of yellow, blue, purple, white, and sometimes pink. refuses to wear red, but sometimes is forced to.

jean shorts during the summer!! the one season where he can’t wear hoodies/sweatshirts.

once ljy forced him into this denim overalls-skirt thing. very cute.

sneakers & boots.

comfort > fashion

sometimes he’ll be in the mood to dress up (ljy’s favorite days) and actually put an effort into looking nice. the others melt.

#mdzs #ouyang zizhen #jin ling #lan sizhui #lan jingyi #mdzs juniors #mdzs headcanons #the untamed #hcs #outfits #fashion #modern au #junior quartet #addy rants #about shit she doesn't know about #:)

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chapitre7 · 4 years ago

Text

bloodstained

The Untamed [陈情令] | Mo Dao Zu Shi [魔道祖师] fanfiction

Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian (Wangxian)

Vampire AU

For the MDZS/The Untamed Kink Meme

My personal thank you to @bookwyrmling, @syolen and @starfieldcanvas for the beta work and help putting this all together ❤

Read on AO3

Warning: Explicit sexual content and themes written for a mature audience

Never trust strangers blindly, his uncle would always say. Never show who you really are.

Lan Wangji always remembered uncle's words, the earliest he had memory of. Every year in school, he would keep his peers at the corners of his eyes, and his elbows next to his body. Not so much closed off as cautious, as aware. He would watch his classmates bathed in the sunburned light of late afternoon, knowing that as soon as the sun went down, it would be the others’ time to come out and play. Beings not always shaped like monsters from books to scare children, but friend-shaped, speaking in voices that called him by his name, that sometimes asked for his notes.

He remembered uncle’s words and walked home with his elbows close to his body, his jacket closed all the way up, and his eyes high and alert. As a student, Lan Wangji was always home before dark. And after dinner, after homework, he would take out his uncle’s books and he would read about the world of the night and the creatures that inhabited it. On weekends, after practicing the guqin, the erhu and the violin, he would practice with a secular sword, blade stainless and sharp as if it had been forged yesterday, but ever brilliant under the moonlight. His feet would move exactly where he wanted them to move, and he replayed his uncle’s teachings even when uncle was away, too busy to guide his training.

Never ignore a life in need. Never stray from the family path.

He grew up, remembering the words. He went through college, learning both the history of the human world and of the world unseen. He studied and he trained and he was dedicated and steadfast. A jewel in the family of Lan, an esteemed guide to the ancient hunter families. A light in the darkness, working among used books for the common folk, but with a priceless library just down the stairs that most of his customers would never see.

He remembers the words, the teachings, remembers it all. Remembers even as he stares at Wei Wuxian, sitting on the ground, hands laying down a man’s corpse. Remembers everything, even as he stares at Wei Wuxian’s tongue, sees it lick a speck of blood off the corner of his mouth.

Wei Wuxian. The professional in charge of the apothecary adjoined to the Wen clinic, only a few blocks away from Lan Wangji’s used bookstore in Tanzhou. You’d never catch him there during the day; a well-mannered, sickly-looking, oddly inexpressive man named Wen Ning would sell you all manner of Wei Wuxian’s creations if you stumbled upon the shop before dusk. But Lan Wangji had caught glimpses of him, many a time, when the sun was but a flesh wound in the dusking sky, and the moon already shone bright upon her throne above the clouds. All long legs, long neck, long hair. His smiles were all teeth, easily given if your gazes met. The lights by the shop’s front were always broken, always weak and flickering, but his eyes reflected red flames with no outside source. A candle lit from within. He was always gone, back inside the shop by the time Lan Wangji caught himself enough to check if the man had a shadow.

They said he was kind and welcoming, but his hands were cold. They said his food was red with the smell of spices and something else. They said he had a treatment for everything, barring the chronic and the terminal, and even then, in those impossible cases, he could soothe your pain. They said the lost causes that left his shop met their end in their sleep, with a smile on their lips.

Lan Wangji had never entered his apothecary. He had watched, and he had listened to the rumors, and he had held his cloud-patterned coat tightly around himself. If there was no proof, the rules stated that the hunters couldn’t act. And there had never been proof, he had never been caught with his hand in the till. Not before, not ever, not until—

“Ah, little Lan,” Wei Wuxian says, tilting his head to the side, still kneeling on the floor of the subway station. The man he had been touching lies unmoving and unbleeding. His appearance matches that of a serial rapist in the area, and Lan Wangji had only been drawn to the corner where he found Wei Wuxian by a woman that had been running away from the scene, as fast as she could. There’s little light where they are, the walls are old and cracked and stained, but Wei Wuxian’s eyes reflect the lamps shining down the stairs, reflect the headlights of the train. Reflect yellow, reflect red. “We meet at last.”

There had been no concrete accounts of vampires in Tanzhou, or indeed anywhere in China, in hundreds of years. There had only been whispers and rumors and unfounded suspicions. The records only ever spoke of one name. Watching Wei Wuxian get to his feet, stand to his full height, flip his long, unbound hair over his shoulder, Lan Wangji recalls, maybe mouths, maybe gasps it. The Patriarch.

“You knew it, didn’t you?”

Wei Wuxian’s steps are loud in the deserted night. All of the immediate past and future vanishes from Lan Wangji’s mind. What had led him to the man, his conversation with his brother over tea not an hour before, the reading plans he had been making in his head for when he got home. Hunters, missions, victims, deaths. There’s a corpse lying near them, yet there’s nothing but the present, the now, the tunnel vision of Wei Wuxian approaching him. “Of course you did, you’re the Lightbearer of Gusu Lan, is there anything you don’t know?”

Lan Wangji didn’t know Wei Wuxian knew about him; he had only been greeted with friendly waves before. He didn’t know he could freeze before a monster, something more than simple hesitation. He didn’t know much about confrontation, had always been trusted to be the lighthouse in the fog, to have the answers, to defend rather than attack, although he had always wanted, had always craved, had always desired...

(What?)

Wei Wuxian stands before him. He keeps his hands — his bloodstained hands, long fingers with long nails — to his sides. He ducks his head and leans towards Lan Wangji, not touching, but lingering, just... smelling. Perhaps assessing. Lan Wangji catalogs everything about him, the line of his nose, his tongue wetting his lips, the red fabric lining the inside of his long black coat.

“Say, Lan Wangji,” Wei Wuxian says, and Lan Wangji's attention snaps back to the man’s face, only slightly dazed. He wants to think Wei Wuxian put him under a charm spell, but his ears burn hot with the truth. “The blood from trash tastes really foul. If you give me some of yours, could you pretend you never saw me?”

The vampire licks his lips again and grins. Lan Wangji can’t look away from his canines, sharp and white and beautiful. There’s no trace of blood in his mouth, nor the stench of death in his breath, just something so sweet Lan Wangji can almost taste it. Wei Wuxian can’t touch him, all of the protection spells woven on the inside of Lan Wangji’s blue coat keeps him away, but it’s less like shelter and more like a cage, and Lan Wangji wants to open the door—

“Oh.”

He doesn’t know what he did, or what he looked like. In the next second, Wei Wuxian’s grin falls. The precarious lights in the station flicker, on and off, more off than on, and Wei Wuxian is cast in sharp shadows, predatory. He takes one step, another, and then he’s coming faster, closer, and Lan Wangji backs away until his back hits a pillar.

The lights flicker on, and his vision is all Wei Wuxian upon him, but still not touching. Lan Wangji doesn’t make any sudden movements, or any movements at all, and doesn’t summon his spiritual weapon. Wei Wuxian regards him with catlike focus, unwavering. Lan Wangji holds his gaze to hold his ground. He’s not a bird. He’s not prey.

“Did you know there used to be a flower spirit in Tanzhou?” Wei Wuxian asks, leaning closer, but still at a distance, as if Lan Wangji himself is his favorite fragrant flower. “And she loved poems, so every year she’d wait for someone to charm her with well-recited verses, and then she’d give them a flower that never wilted.”

Wei Wuxian cocks his head to the side, his eyes catching light from someplace else, someplace that is not this decrepit station. Someplace ancient, where the sky is clear enough to see the stars. Lan Wangji swallows.

“Little Lan,” the vampire says, his breath playing on Lan Wangji’s skin. Lan Wangji doesn’t move away; never run away, his uncle had taught him, even though his middle, his very core, trembles. Not in fear of Wei Wuxian. He could try to overpower him, and would suffer no shame in defeat. But he doesn’t want to. He wants...

“I have been waiting all this time for your poem,” Wei Wuxian says, never touching, his fingers and nose and mouth dancing centimeters away from Lan Wangji’s face, his neck. “Don’t you want my flower?”

Dangerous fingers move lower, to the collar of Lan Wangji’s jacket. Wei Wuxian’s eyes follow the movement before locking back on Lan Wangji’s. Time moves around them, seconds, but Wei Wuxian is supernaturally still, having no need to breathe or blink.

He’s even more beautiful up close. Lan Wangji had thought about his proportions, about the swing of his hips, the spring in his step, and the curl of his fingers after he waved, as if he wanted to draw Lan Wangji in. All the rest was imagination, an embarrassing wet dream from a man who had thought for too long about the human contact he had read about in books.

Wei Wuxian is very real. Blinking for his benefit, to punctuate the inexorable passing of time.

Lan Wangji lifts his hands. Wei Wuxian’s eyes follow them, the line drawn by Lan Wangji’s fingers over the buttons of his coat, opening one by one, shedding the material and its protection along with it. The sound of his coat falling to the ground is loud in the silence, but not as loud as the guttural noise Wei Wuxian makes as he pushes forward and Lan Wangji’s head hits the pillar with a painful thud, his wrists pinned above it by Wei Wuxian’s hands.

The vampire’s body is like fire. Lan Wangji knows it’s because he fed tonight, but the heat radiating from his proximity, from his hands around Lan Wangji’s wrists, prickles his skin with goosebumps. One of Wei Wuxian's legs moves between Lan Wangji’s, and he should put up more of a fight over parting them, but he doesn’t. Tension has him frozen, or maybe it’s something else, something more primal, something like—

“Lan Wangji,” Wei Wuxian whispers next to his ear, breath hot, dragging every vowel. “My mouth tastes horrible from before. Won’t you cleanse my palate, hmm?”

His nose touches Lan Wangji’s neck, the tip cold, and Lan Wangji visibly shivers. He can feel Wei Wuxian’s smile against his skin, yet there’s no bite, his mouth is closed, almost a lover’s game. Lan Wangji is not a man for games. Not with his senses going haywire, not when he finally recognizes that this vibration, this need, the culmination of his thoughts and dreams is hunger.

Lan Wangji tries to speak, but only a low sound comes from his throat. He swallows, lightly pushes against the hands that hold him down. He opens the door to his cage, not merely ajar but wide open, and invites the monster in with a clear “Yes.”

Wei Wuxian bites him with no flourish and no warning. Lan Wangji jerks in the action, hits his head against concrete again. There’s no pain this time, nothing that could overcome the pleasure of Wei Wuxian feeding on his blood.

One of his hands — for both are now freed, lost in the air — finds itself in Wei Wuxian’s hair, tugs at it mindlessly. Wei Wuxian groans, pushes flusher against him, rubs his thigh against Lan Wangji’s clothed, swelling cock. One of Wei Wuxian's own arms has reached around Lan Wangji’s back, his hand coming to touch Lan Wangji's shoulder, fingers digging into his skin, keeping him in a close, possessive half-embrace. The other hand pulls Lan Wangji’s shirt from the safety of his trousers, snakes up his torso, and Wei Wuxian lets out another groan at the topography of Lan Wangji’s body.

His teeth and mouth release Lan Wangji’s neck with a tiny pop. If he wasn’t being held up by the vampire, Lan Wangji might have fallen, graceless.

“You taste so good, Lan Wangji,” Wei Wuxian says, sounding like a whining child. “Did you know how good you taste? Is that why you kept tempting me with your pressed clothes, your perfect posture, staring at me like you knew all my secrets?”

He licks at the twin punctures on Lan Wangji’s neck, and it’s only when his chest presses against Lan Wangji’s that the man notices his own erratic breathing. His mind is foggy, comprehending things at a much slower pace. Lan Wangji is a lightweight of a drinker and his experiences with alcohol are merely blackouts in his brother’s presence, but he thinks this might be something like being drunk.

Wei Wuxian looks down at him, at the state of him, licking his lips as his hand under Lan Wangji's shirt continues its exploration. Finds a nipple, flicks at it with his thumb, but otherwise pays it not much attention. Lan Wangji lets out a choked sound.

“You’re wearing all blue for me today, so much better than that mourning white, hmm? You’re like a cute little bird.”

Lan Wangji pulls at Wei Wuxian’s hair again, remembering he still holds it, and Wei Wuxian gasps, laughs an open-mouthed laugh that draws attention to his sharp canines. Lan Wangji thinks he shouldn’t be blushing, not at the condescending praise, but he is. There’s no grace in arousal, just every sense loud and all-consuming.

(Maybe it’s an aftereffect of being bitten. He wants it again and again and again.)

“You have bite in you, don’t you? But you are so pretty and good. Wrapped up like a gift in blue, begging me to take you.”

His hand travels lower, lower down Lan Wangji’s front, fingers working his trousers open. Lan Wangji seems to remember his free hand, and takes hold of Wei Wuxian’s wrist before those fingers find his neediest place.

“I...”

What does he want to say? No? Ridiculous. He’s almost sprawled on the man’s lap, and his virtues were shed along with his coat.

Wait? He doesn’t want to. He wants Wei Wuxian’s teeth on his neck and Wei Wuxian’s hands on his skin, digging deeper and deeper until he forgets his own name.

Not here? Someplace else, darker, where Wei Wuxian can eat him whole—

Wei Wuxian tuts at him, leaning close, so close; he’s a blurred image, a trace of black hair and flushed lips. He doesn’t quite kiss Lan Wangji, but he licks Lan Wangji's lips, nips at them, threatens to bite but doesn’t. Lan Wangji’s hold on his wrist weakens.

“I hear you,” Wei Wuxian whispers, breath mingling with his. Can he? Lan Wangji’s knowledge is hidden behind his cloud of want. Wei Wuxian leans away from Lan Wangji's mouth to whisper against his ear, “Let me take care of you, my little Lan Zhan.”

Lan Wangji’s hand moves from his wrist, up his arm, and seems to pull him impossibly closer. It’s all the vampire needs to push his hand past the waistband of Lan Wangji’s trousers, inside his underwear, to touch him at the same time as he bites his neck again.

There’s no strength left in Lan Wangji's legs to hold him upright. He slumps down the pillar and all but falls in Wei Wuxian’s hold. There are only flashes of red behind his eyelids, and pleasure shoots through his veins, alight. He doesn’t know if he breathes, only that he rides the pumping of Wei Wuxian’s fingers around his cock, though his movements are restrained by the vampire’s firm hold on his upper body. A hum vibrates against his skin as Wei Wuxian’s fingers show attention to the head, slowing his movements, appreciatively indulging in the wet mess of Lan Wangji's pre-come. He’s not going to last, not with his head so light, not with the intoxicating pressure of Wei Wuxian’s teeth on his neck, not with the tantalizing movements of his hips against Lan Wangji, ah—

It’s a whiteout. He doesn’t know how long it lasts, nor does he take notice of the trembling of his body against the heat of his still-clothed companion. He breathes through his open mouth, the sound of his exhalations loud in the chamber of his head. His limbs feel lost in a tide. He lets his head fall forward, feeling lulled with the light scraping of fingernails against his scalp, and he breathes. He feels himself being pulled away from the pillar, but he doesn’t fall. He breathes Wei Wuxian in, and out.

By the time he opens his eyes again, he’s not at the subway station anymore. He’s sitting on the sidewalk of his own block, only a few steps away from his home. He can see the apothecary, its malfunctioning lettering, and the shadow that walks towards it. Black hair swishes from one side to the other, flipping over his shoulder as Wei Wuxian looks back at him. He can vaguely make out the glint in the vampire's eyes and the feline smirk on his lips. Then he’s turned away again, and he’s gone.

Lan Wangji should feel sated.

He swallows, mouth dry.

***

It takes only a few days until Lan Wangji sees him again. Or rather, he’s looked for glimpses of Wei Wuxian when he’s at the apothecary, finding excuses to walk by but no excuse to interact. He should have reported his encounter with Wei Wuxian to his uncle. He should have told him the real cause of death of the man at the station, since there had been no marks left on the body. He should have done something, as he was taught to do. He shook with his silence, stayed awake with it, but he never spoke. Once his sleep caught up with his restless mind, his dreams were bathed in red, hands drawing with blood on skin, and he grasped at them shamelessly, throwing himself to the mercy of the wolf. For days he woke up breathless, soaked in sweat, and as he took himself in his fist with aggravation and need, he could still feel the pressure on his neck.

So when Wei Wuxian walks into the bookshop while the sun still tinges the sky with the orange of late afternoon, Lan Wangji still isn’t entirely himself, or at least not the same person he’s known for years. His brain tries to match up the two realities: the man known as Wei Wuxian who was rumored, sometimes in jest, to be a vampire, and Lan Wangji’s personal knowledge of who he really was. Wei Wuxian is sporting vintage, round-framed sunglasses and a different coat from the one he wore the last time they met, but one that’s still black outside and blood red on the inside. He’s flashy in the way he walks — under the sun — but when he pushes his glasses down his nose to look at Lan Wangji, his eyes are an ordinary black. Not compelling, just... charming.

Lan Wangji finds no words to speak. This is not a problem for Wei Wuxian, who walks up to the counter behind which Lan Wangji spends most of his days, props his elbow on its surface, and leans forward. Whether he’s hiding in plain sight or enrapturing Lan Wangji in the dead of night, his sense of boundaries is still wholly defective.

“Lan Wangji,” he says in greeting, belatedly, or maybe just with a dramatic flair he had intended. He beams up at Lan Wangji, as if the very sight of him is a delight. Lan Wangji waits for the punchline. “You’re immune!”

“What,” Lan Wangji asks, but it’s flat, barely a question, and more like an annoyed noise.

“I can’t turn you!” Wei Wuxian says, resting his chin in the cup of his palms, peeking up at Lan Wangji like he’s something worth admiring. “I waited this whole time to see if me biting you—”

“You—”

“—would make you my servant, but it had no effect!”

Lan Wangji sweeps the shop with his eyes, trying to see if he missed anyone entering ever since Wei Wuxian waltzed in, but it’s just as deserted as it was a minute ago. He looks back down at Wei Wuxian, waiting for the continuation of his musings, but the man is quiet, seeming lost in thought, a pleased smile on his face. Lan Wangji sighs, barely making a sound.

“What does that mean?”

He has asked himself the same question for days, but couldn’t find the answer in his archives. The Patriarch, age unknown, is apparently the best source he gets.

The Patriarch leans back against one of his hands, the other pushing his glasses up to rest on his head.

“It means there’s something unnatural in your blood. Or maybe... Maybe someone really loved you.”

He leans back from the counter at the same time as the bell connected to the door chimes. A teenage girl walks in, and in the time it takes for Lan Wangji to greet her with a minimal bow, Wei Wuxian is gone into the maze of narrow aisles of Cloud Recesses — Used & Rare Books, only the end of his coat catching at the corner of Lan Wangji’s eyes.

Lan Wangji waits — one, two, five, ten whole seconds for the girl to call for him or ask for any assistance, but she continues her quiet exploration. Lan Wangji gets up, crosses the front aisles and climbs the small steps to the back of the store. He finds Wei Wuxian perched on one of his stepladders, a mystery novel in his hands, browsing through the pages and admiring the illustrations of a murder investigation.

“What do you mean?” Lan Wangji asks, voice low but clear in the quiet space.

“It means,” Wei Wuxian says, not looking up from his book, “that either your immunity is hereditary, or someone went through a great deal to keep you protected.”

Lan Wangji’s eyes linger on Wei Wuxian’s foot, moving lazily in the air as he keeps his legs crossed. Lan Wangji’s mind is far away, in a different time, when a woman would whisper, “Don’t you want to run away, darling? Won’t you run away with me?”, all between lullabies and giggles. She’d giggle even though nothing fun happened during those days.

“Or maybe both.”

Wei Wuxian’s voice is distant, almost an echo. Lan Wangji can’t remember anything about his mother and no one would ever tell him what he did not know. If she was remarkable, if she knew about the other world, if she was from there. There was nothing but void. Mother was kind, was all Xichen would say. Uncle would speak no words but say everything in frowns and glares and grunts. She is gone now, only a memory of a pale nightgown glowing in the night, hugging him to her chest, calling him beautiful, calling him precious, and, in between singing words he didn’t understand, asking him to run away with her.

Run away where?

“Ah, Lan Zhan, my Lan Zhan.”

When did Wei Wuxian get up? He’s close, so close that Lan Wangji flinches, would have stepped away if one of Wei Wuxian’s arms hadn’t moved around his middle, keeping him in place. He’d called him Lan Zhan again, and Lan Wangji can feel his ears burning. Today, his shirt, pants, and even his coat, hanging just behind the counter up front, all of them are in complementary shades of blue. The only white is the ribbon in his long black hair, a ribbon that Wei Wuxian twirls around his finger, all the black of him against the blue of Lan Wangji. His mind had been so full of blue and red, red and blue, the ghost of Wei Wuxian’s breath playing on his skin when he was alone. But it’s here now, real now, and Lan Wangji is rooted in place again, whether by something supernatural or by his own urges, he cannot say. Even though Wei Wuxian is cold, he’s still like the scent of the coming rain to those who have been tired of the heat.

“Someone went to all this trouble, but you don’t want to be protected, do you?”

He keeps a hand flat on Lan Wangji’s back, and the other, which had been playing with Lan Wangji’s ribbon, trails up to run down the length of his hair.

“You want to walk away from this place and into the filthiest corners of the night, don’t you? Find out what’s out there? Stand in the middle of the chaos?”

He crowds in, chest pressing against Lan Wangji’s, his cold lips playing, pecking, pulling lightly at Lan Wangji’s earlobe. And though he’s trained to defend himself, Lan Wangji can’t move.

“The darkness draws you in, doesn’t it, Lan Zhan? You want to immerse yourself in it and come out on the other side. You think yourself strong enough.”

When he traces Lan Wangji’s jawline with his fingertips, Lan Wangji leans into the touch, lets himself be drawn into the spell of Wei Wuxian’s gestures. Lan Wangji looks straight into those thousand-year-old eyes, black and red and shining under the weak yellow lights of the shop. Like a cat’s. The eyes of a predator in the dark.

“Isn’t it wonderful, then, Lan Zhan, that I cannot taint you?”

Wei Wuxian tilts his head to the side, and his lips tip up, closer, within reach. Lips that soak into blood and flesh. Lips that looked alive not too long ago, alive and red and beautiful. Lips that stretch into a wide, knowing smirk, showing a perfect row of teeth. His canines are simpler today, though still protuberant compared to the others. Lan Wangji wants them on his skin. He wants to run his tongue over them and let them hurt, until his own blood warms the mouth they're in. He wants to cast away his sleeping hours and dive into the long night. See what Wei Wuxian sees. Draw his blade, his blood pumping hot in his veins. He wants—

Wei Wuxian breaks contact. Steps away, brings his hands to his own back. Lan Wangji almost falters, almost falls, but he was taught better than that, so he does neither. Wei Wuxian grins, taps his sunglasses back on his nose, but still watches Lan Wangji over the rims. He seems to study the details of the bookseller just like he studied the illustrations of the book he held a moment ago.

“I’ll be waiting for you, my little blue bird.”

And he’s gone. Lan Wangji waits. The seconds stretch into a minute, and when he finally reaches the front of the shop again, it’s deserted. The sun is still up, painting the clouds from behind, brushstrokes rendering the sky in countless shades of orange and blue. Blue like Lan Wangji’s cloud-patterned coat, and his shirt, and his socks.

Lan Wangji sighs, runs a hand through his hair, brings his white ribbon down and looks at it in his hand. Imagines those blood-kissed hands touching it, wrapping it around long fingers, wrapping it around his neck and pulling—

When uncle shows up at five for the evening shift, Lan Wangji says his usual goodbyes and walks his usual path for grocery shopping, just up ahead, a few blocks away. He returns to his apartment above the bookshop, makes his dinner, eats, showers, meditates, and waits.

Waits until the moon is high and bright in the sky, and then he goes out, his uncle never noticing his absence.

***

There is a man who works at the apothecary. He greets distressed parents with a benevolent smile and the perfect cure for tummy aches, and lists all the benefits from his tea blends to the elderly, walking them to the door himself, offering freebies, tonics, and incense to help with sleep.

There is a man who talks animatedly with a youth named Wen Yuan who helps at the apothecary in the early evening while he studies, before the man shoos him off to his home in the second story of the Wen Clinic. Medic Wen Qing needles this man with words every time she stops by, grills him about how he’s always keeping the place a mess despite Wen Ning’s best efforts at organization, about how he should stop instructing Wen Yuan to perform chemistry experiments because now the boy’s room smells as bad as this man does. She points out that he’s always looking for trouble as she pointedly looks at Lan Wangji, resolute in her posture. This man dotes on Wen Ning, always reminding him to take his supplements to boost his immune system.

There is a man who serves Lan Wangji tea by his counter, who asks Lan Wangji about his day and his life and his passions, just little tidbits at a time, like Lan Wangji’s words are snacks he doesn’t want to run out of. When they’re alone, he asks about the missions Lan Wangji assigned to the region’s hunters, laughing and prodding at Lan Wangji’s reticence until he finally gives in and talks about them, not at length or in detail, but enough to keep the man entertained. And when the moon is full, this man takes Lan Wangji out into the night, and then he’s no longer a man.

Although Lan Wangji has worked in a support role for years, he’s known monsters. Wei Wuxian, maybe due to his age, maybe due to the nature of his powers, or maybe for no simple reason, is nothing like them. He’s highly intelligent, stitching sigils and talismans between the layers of his coats so he can walk out when the sun is weakest and torment Lan Wangji, pulling him into hugs the other has not yet learned to accept, making Wei Wuxian laugh. He’s always laughing, so bright, like a youth who doesn’t yet know of life’s struggles.

Wei Wuxian knows. When he leaves the apothecary behind, when he cloaks himself in night, it’s clear as footsteps in the silence. No mission Lan Wangji describes impresses him, no matter how impressed he makes himself sound. No suffering of victims fazes him, nor makes the smile drop off his face. He walks through streets, around corners, up walls, without ever breaking pace, because he knows every place, he’s seen it all, he’s lived it all. Lan Wangji can see it; maybe because Wei Wuxian lets him. Wei Wuxian guides him through the shadows, and by holding his hand, helps him come out on the other side, on some other street, some other place, the top of a building where the wind catches in his long hair.

“Lan Zhan, ah, Lan Zhan,” he insists on calling him. Inwardly, Lan Wangji delights in it, in being pulled close, by a name, by his hand. “I want you to call me...”

It’s a secret, whispered against Lan Wangji’s lips. Wei Ying, he says, lips forming a smile that falters and brightens a couple of times, like the moon peeking through the clouds. Then he closes the gap, catches Lan Wangji in between breaths. His gaze is heavy, before Lan Wangji dares to close his eyes. His eyes crush Lan Wangji with the weight of centuries.

It’s nothing like a first kiss. It’s wet, Wei Wuxian’s tongue lapping at his lips before he covers them with his own, pulling, pulling at the tender flesh until it’s hot, until Lan Wangji’s mouth falls open and he wastes no time pushing through, making his mark on the uncharted territory of Lan Wangji’s insides. His hands, tongue, breath are a hot brand on Lan Wangji, all over, all under. The kiss is drawn out, their mouths parting only to join again with the tilt of a head, on and on until Lan Wangji’s chest hurts with the desperation to breathe.

There’s a sting on his tongue before Wei Wuxian — Wei Ying — lets him go. He can taste the blood in his mouth, and his partner looks pleased with himself, a satiated cat. Wei Wuxian licks his lips, his thumbs drawing circles on Lan Wangji’s sides. What had Lan Wangji’s hands been doing all this time? Had they been holding on tight, like his core demanded?

Tonight, Wei Wuxian seems to say, without speaking the words. Tonight, he promises, with another peck, another lick, another smile against his mouth. Tonight, he vows, his body a flame, alive, and Lan Wangji can’t fathom the sacrifice made so he could have this. How many have had to die so Wei Wuxian could stay. He wants to think them righteous deaths. He doesn’t want to think. He wants to leap.

Without really breaking contact, Wei Wuxian takes off his jacket, turns it inside out, and throws it over Lan Wangji’s head.

It’s a reflex to close his eyes. He lets his breath falter, blinks into the darkness, and when he opens his eyes again, they’re somewhere else. The room — a bedroom — is drenched in the smell of night jasmine, the pot resting close to the window, a bouquet of tiny flowers escaping the frame, as if eager to jump into the night, into the moon. It is the most endearing part of the room, the rest turned over in a mess of bed sheets, clothes, and papers covered in annotations and diagrams. Surprisingly, there’s a skylight in the middle of the room, through which the moonlight showers down, illuminating the dust and the spiderwebs. There’s so much to look at that Lan Wangji almost loses track of what’s going on, until Wei Wuxian touches him, grounds him back to his presence.

Wei Wuxian’s coat is resting on Lan Wangji’s shoulders, the red turned out. Although Lan Wangji is slightly taller, although they’re standing to the side and not under the skylight, the moon reflects in Wei Wuxian’s eyes, and Lan Wangji steps back and stumbles onto the bed, now at the mercy of the beast.

The vampire is on his lap, straddling him, before he knows what to expect. He takes hold of Lan Wangji's face, not quite gently, but not unkindly. There’s nothing kind about the kiss he gives him next, demanding, suffocating, his tongue brushing against Lan Wangji's, against the roof of his mouth. Lan Wangji isn’t quite sitting upright; he has a hand keeping him from falling into the mattress, the other grasping at Wei Wuxian’s waist, but it’s a flimsy balance, the gravity of Wei Wuxian slowly robbing him of his strength. When Wei Wuxian starts moving on his lap, a languid, rhythmic motion, his mouth lets go of Lan Wangji’s for open-mouthed kisses, allowing him to breathe. Those smirking lips travel down, down his jawline, to the spot below his ear, and suck, noisily.

Lan Wangji feels himself slipping. Wei Wuxian’s pearly white teeth graze his neck in the exact same spot as the first time. Wei Wuxian’s hips grind down on Lan Wangji’s groin, and then comes the sudden sharp pain of the bite — Lan Wangji falls, faces the flaring dark behind his eyelids.

Wei Wuxian keeps him from falling, an arm around him, one hand on his back, the other braced on the mattress. He’s still swaying to a nameless song against Lan Wangji’s lap, albeit quieter now, slower, like a soft evening breeze over a warm sea at the height of summer. Lan Wangji is already gone, erect and straining in the confinements of his pants, and if he focuses, if he pushes against the fog of exhilaration brought on by Wei Wuxian’s vampire kiss, he can feel the press of Wei Wuxian’s own erection against his stomach.

He doesn’t know how long it lasts. At one point, the biting turns into laps of tongue, then kisses, and then he’s opening his eyes to Wei Wuxian’s moonlit room again. He’s on his back now, having been so carefully eased down that he never noticed, and Wei Wuxian is still on him, licking his lips, running a hand down his clothed torso.

“Lan Zhan ah,” he says, eyes burning golden, burning fire. He leans down, kisses Lan Wangji again, but oh, he tastes different now — it’s blood, it’s Lan Wangji’s blood. There’s a ritual here, there’s a turn here and Lan Wangji couldn’t care less, he arches into it, inhales through it. Wei Wuxian breaks away, blinks slowly and says, “Open up to me, my blue bird.”

His hands slither under Lan Wangji’s shirt and move up. Lan Wangji obediently reaches to remove his jacket, then his shirt, throwing both of them off with uncharacteristic carelessness. Wei Wuxian’s coat is still under him, still smelling of Wei Wuxian, lulling him, causing his eyelids to droop, and he has to force them open to look at the other man. Wei Wuxian kisses and licks his chest, humming at the lines of his body, hand trailing down what his mouth can’t. As if he wants to touch all of Lan Wangji, all at once. As his mouth works on one of Lan Wangji’s nipples with distant interest, his hand is intent on unbuttoning Lan Wangji's trousers, on sliding down his zipper, and reaching inside his underwear to grab him in a now-warm hand, an echo of the first time.

“Do you think about me, Lan Wangji?” he says, pumping Lan Wangji with cruel slowness, leaning over him like a lion playing with its prey. “Did you think about me before that night? And since then — how often?”

Lan Wangji wants to touch him, wants to answer him, but if his words were scarce before, they run from him now, hide behind his overflowing desire. His hands still lie uselessly by his head, where they’ve been ever since he removed his shirt. Wei Wuxian doesn’t seem to mind; in fact, whatever Lan Wangji is showing, whatever sounds he’s making, only make the glow in Wei Wuxian's eyes brighter and his smirk wider. He teases Lan Wangji’s tip with his thumb at the same time as he licks his neck, pumps tighter as he sucks on his flesh, drawing a bruise but not opening a wound.

“I think of you.”

Maybe Lan Wangji says it. Maybe they both do.

Whether it’s from anticipation or abandon, Lan Wangji can’t discern, can’t think, he just tips over the edge, spilling over Wei Wuxian’s hand and onto his own stomach. Wei Wuxian hadn’t even needed to bite him again.

He’s still panting when he registers Wei Wuxian licking Lan Wangji’s come off his hand like it’s a delicacy. The vampire kisses his way down Lan Wangji’s body, and Lan Wangji’s dazed eyes trace every movement. There’s a performative air to the way Wei Wuxian sticks his tongue out and noisily licks Lan Wangji clean; it should be insulting, how close to laughter Wei Wuxian is, like Lan Wangji is a cute plaything, but it’s not. Lan Wangji wishes he could claim he knows it because he can read him, but he just feels too good to put the proper thoughts into their right places. If Wei Wuxian is enjoying himself, it’s enough.

Wei Wuxian pulls down Lan Wangji’s pants and underwear, and Lan Wangji barely has a mind to help him in the task. The vampire presses kisses to the inside of his thigh, licking off his perspiration, going from one thigh to the other, until finally his mouth closes around the tip of Lan Wangji’s limp, sensitive cock. He shudders, lets Wei Wuxian open his legs, lets the beast do as it wants. Wei Wuxian’s hands, sometimes cold, sometimes pale, burn against his thighs tonight, as if breaking through his flesh and clutching at his bones. Wei Wuxian licks him clean there as well, long stripes up and down his cock, and the muscles in Lan Wangji’s thighs contract at the touch, too much. He’s not given a second to come back to himself, to breathe. Once Wei Wuxian deems him clean enough, Wei Wuxian crawls up, noses at the dark curls of Lan Wangji’s pubic hair, the cold tip of his nose tickling the skin of Lan Wangji’s stomach. Quick, innocent kisses along his lower abdomen are a sweet distraction, leaving Lan Wangji wholly unprepared for the bite that follows.

Lan Wangji’s hips jump from the mattress, but Wei Wuxian’s hands, supernaturally strong, push him back down. The vampire hums, fingers like claws against Lan Wangji’s hips, leaving imprints that Lan Wangji hopes will last for days. He throws his head back, consumed by his wants. The sounds coming from Wei Wuxian’s throat, the touch of his hair against Lan Wangji’s crotch and legs, and the warmth of his hand moving to grip Lan Wangji’s thigh, all form a song that sets fire to Lan Wangji’s desire, bringing him up to a dizzying half-mast. Does he breathe, does he speak? Is he anything more than the end signals of his skin, of his lust?

Wei Wuxian opens his jaw with agonizing slowness. He breathes on the punctures, licks at them, makes them heal. He backs away until they’re not touching, until his presence is just like the warmth of a campfire. Devastatingly cold, Lan Wangji is forced to look at him.

Kneeling between Lan Wangji’s open legs, Wei Wuxian unbuttons his black shirt, throws it far back. He moves further away, off the bed, and unzips his tight pants, shimmying out of them and his underwear and kicking everything away. The room is already a mess and they’ve only made it messier, but Wei Wuxian is a vision in the dim light. Dark lips and flushed skin, body toned and cock erect, he would almost look like a man, if it weren’t for his eyes. Shining, never straying from Lan Wangji’s, even as he moves to the nightstand. Lan Wangji can only look, can only follow. His body doesn’t have time to cool off. Wei Wuxian returns, climbs on him again, covers him, aligns to kiss him on the mouth.

It’s the slowest they’ve kissed, the slowest Lan Wangji has ever been kissed. He wraps his arms around the vampire, discovering that he still can control his body after all, and pulls Wei Wuxian down, pulls until they’re almost melded into one. When Wei Wuxian moves to create friction between their cocks, Lan Wangji hears himself make a sound, but all he can think is Wei Ying, Wei Ying, ah, you...

You.

Wei Wuxian licks his lips. He suffocates Lan Wangji with his scent, burning millennia-old fingerprints on his skin. Lan Wangji has wanted men before, has touched himself to completion before, has fantasized about a lasting connection with someone before. But tonight, the shadows of a world that was only ever just glimpses through a gap in a doorway live in his lungs. Lives in the blood that Wei Wuxian feeds him in his kisses.

You.

Wei Wuxian breaks the kiss, touches his cheek adoringly, reverently.

“Lan Zhan ah. Where have you been all these lifetimes?”

Where has he been? When has he lived?

Wei Wuxian bites Lan Wanji’s neck on the side yet untouched, without drawing blood. Lost in the sensation of Wei Wuxian’s mouth closing around his pulse, Lan Wangji doesn’t pay attention to the vampire’s hands until one of them touches the inside of his knee, pushes up, and one slicked finger touches his rim.

Lan Wangji trembles at the contact, but Wei Wuxian hushes him, places deceptively kind kisses on his lips, lets him breathe away his tension to melt into the intrusion. Wei Wuxian is patient and reassuring, the perfect lover, and it could be a role, it could be more performance, but it works, so Lan Wangji doesn’t care.

“Look at you,” Wei Wuxian says, voice deep, like the humming strings of a cello. “Noblewomen have been in this exact position, kings, but none can compare to you, none are as beautiful as you, Lan Zhan.” Lan Wangji preens, opens up like a flower when Wei Wuxian’s finger curls inside of him, when Wei Wuxian’s hand envelops his cock to work it perfectly erect again, and Wei Wuxian calls it so nicely curved, so thick, so beautiful, the words falling from the vampire’s lips sounding like polished prose.

“Turn around for me,” Wei Wuxian says. Hours seem to have passed since he last spoke, but it was only seconds. Wei Wuxian pulls away and an embarrassing sound comes from Lan Wangji’s throat.

Lan Wangji does as instructed, even if his limbs aren’t the same as they were when the night started, a tingling sensation blooming at the tip of his fingers and toes, and everywhere that Wei Wuxian touches burns like a fever. The coat that Lan Wangji had been lying on is tossed aside like the rest of their clothes, and Lan Wangji mourns its loss in a detached, dream-like way. But when Wei Wuxian guides him to his knees, his ass high in the air, and holds him there with a hand, the other finding its way back inside him, Lan Wangji wants for nothing. Wei Wuxian is an all-encompassing presence behind him, over him, his hair cascading down Lan Wangji’s back. Letting his forehead fall against his sheets, Lan Wangji breathes nothing but Wei Wuxian. He breathes in and out, Wei Wuxian’s fingers move in and out, turning, searching for a spot inside of him that makes him surrender. The voice that comes out of Lan Wangji sounds nothing like him. No words, just needs, just human.

Wei Wuxian bites his neck again, the expanse of the vampire’s chest covering Lan Wangji’s back. The hand against Lan Wangji’s hip moves to his cock, and the fingers inside of him— ah, when did they move? When did the gentle but meticulous stretching stop and Wei Wuxian start sliding in, so much bigger than his slim fingers had foreshadowed? Lan Wangji doesn’t clench up for long, unable to focus on the intrusion; Wei Wuxian’s mouth is closed tight on him, sucking, drinking, making him light-headed, making him cold and hot all at once. His cock is feeling a different kind of pain in Wei Wuxian’s hold, until Wei Wuxian stops pumping and grips, as though sensing that Lan Wangji might come too soon, and Lan Wangji is both tormented and grateful. He doesn’t know if he can take much more once his orgasm has come and gone, so he lets himself be taken and led in an almost painful dance.

Wei Wuxian’s mouth parts with Lan Wangji’s skin, and it’s only then that Lan Wangji can feel him bottom out, the vampire’s hips flush against his backside. Lan Wangji breathes — in, out, in, out, his panting loud in the quiet room. Wei Wuxian doesn’t make a sound: he has no need to catch his breath.

“Is this what you wanted?” Wei Wuxian whispers in his ear.

Is it? To feel Wei Wuxian’s hand, dirty because it was touching him, reach across the sheets and take hold of his own hand, fingers interlacing? To feel the curve of his cock inside, to know him as much as he knows Lan Wangji, on this night, surrounded by a mist of night jasmines? Is it this, the intimacy, the danger, Wei Wuxian’s teeth breaking his skin, his cock breaching past the last of Lan Wangji’s defenses, while a sentient darkness caresses them?

“Yes,” Lan Wangji answers, not because he has to; Wei Wuxian, with his predatory grin, already knows. Lan Wangji answers because he wants to.

Wei Wuxian starts to move. Pulling out only halfway, slowly, like the introduction to a song, and then he pounds back, the sound of their flesh colliding loud to Lan Wangji’s ears, their shadows mirroring their sensual dance on the wall. He does this once, twice, Lan Wangji can’t keep count. Once Lan Wangji has adjusted to his girth, he picks up the pace, slamming into Lan Wangji as deep as he can, as if, having once dug out his place inside the man, he can’t bear not to fill it.

“Lan Zhan ah, do you feel how wet you are, how you suck me in?” Wei Wuxian breathes against his ear, voice shaking with laughter, but never fully laughing. “Do you like it, when I take you like this? Or do you like it when I suck you better, Lan Zhan? Tell me, tell me everything, Lan Zhan,” he says, repeating the name that is a secret between them like a spell, driving Lan Wangji to the edge like the pulling tide.

When Lan Wangji feels close to orgasm, Wei Wuxian pulls fully out, and, with a single movement, manhandles Lan Wangji onto his back. All Lan Wangji sees as one of his legs is pulled up over one of the vampire’s shoulders is red. The space inside of him, every inch of his skin, his blood in his veins, all scream Wei Wuxian’s name. The vampire covers him, pushes his cock inside of him and possesses his neck, one last time.

Lan Wangji swears his mouth tastes sweet. With the night jasmines, with Wei Wuxian’s flavor. Like the tea they drank earlier, or what blood tastes like for Wei Wuxian. He breathes through his open mouth, taking it all in, his body going taut against the pressure and the humming on his neck, his hole still pulling Wei Wuxian inside. There’s barely any room for Wei Wuxian to move in and out of him, but he’s already on the edge, and with a single brush of Wei Wuxian’s hand against his cock, a single pull, he’s falling, lost at sea.

The colors are bright behind his eyelids, and the world around him is vague, a half-awake dream. He feels Wei Wuxian’s teeth let go, and a small, sad sound come out of him, making Wei Wuxian chuckle. His body is still moving with Wei Wuxian’s thrusts, but he doesn’t see the vampire come, doesn’t feel it until Wei Wuxian pulls away and his essence drips out of Lan Wangji. Without Wei Wuxian covering him, without being connected to him, Lan Wangji shivers. One of his hands searches, even if his eyes are still closed, fingertips running across the ghost of Wei Wuxian’s warmth, where the vampire’s hands had been. He wants. Even now, he wants.

Wei Wuxian returns. At his touch, Lan Wangji forces his eyes open, to gaze at this ageless man as he cleans Lan Wangji up, as he pulls the covers from under Lan Wangji’s body and up over him. Now, with the seconds ticking by again, Lan Wangji’s head is empty in a way that is both blissful and concerning. Wei Wuxian is barely visible, covered in shadows. He touches the frown between Lan Wangi’s eyebrows, rubs against it until it’s gone.

“Why are you so cute, Lan Zhan?”

No one has called him “cute” in years. He leans into Wei Wuxian’s touch, and Wei Wuxian chuckles again, the sound imprinted in Lan Wangji’s mind now, to play in his dreams.

“Be careful, Lan Zhan. Don’t you know vampires are very possessive? I may never let you go.”

“Then don’t.”

He says it without thinking, his body weightless. Tomorrow he will ache in places he’s never ached before, and he’ll need to rebuild all of the energy that Wei Wuxian drank out of him. Tomorrow, when the sun rises, a new day begins, in this place he’s never seen, where Wei Wuxian, Wei Ying, The Patriarch, lives. He doesn’t know where it is. He doesn’t know what tomorrow will bring.

Tonight, he tucks his nose against Wei Wuxian’s throat, and he holds on to Wei Wuxian’s body, and he means every word he says. He breathes the perfume of the night flowers, and it’s like he’s been missing it all along. This darkness.

Lan Wangji sleeps, right where chaos lives.

***

The time Lan Wangji spends with Wei Wuxian stretches out. A single night spanning like days, the feeling of being scooped up in someone’s arms rewriting the nights when he slept alone, lonely, thinking of the lives he could be living. These nights, in turn, feel like years of a different life, lived in his uncle’s blindspot. In his uncle’s eyes, Lan Wangji never looks any different when morning comes, when the shadows let him travel back to the place he’s used to calling home.

Home is a broader term to Lan Wangji now. It’s not just the place he knows, the place where he’s comfortable in monotonous minutes, in the practice of his duty. Now, it’s also the dark alleys where he finds monsters that think they’re safe from being caught. He slashes through them with his glowing blade, while Wei Wuxian, perched atop a building, showers him with compliments.

Lan Wangji’s blood is hot under his skin, even on the colder nights. He shakes, as if consumed by a fever, in his place in the vampire’s lap, and Wei Wuxian holds Lan Wangji so tight that Lan Wangji thinks he can never fall again. Even if Wei Wuxian decided to fuck him out in the open, on the edge of a window, under the blue moon, like a ritual, like a pledge, long fingers would hold firm on Lan Wangji’s lower back, guiding the movements of his hips, and in the vampire’s supernatural embrace Lan Wangji would not fall.

Lan Wangji is immune, Wei Wuxian had said. And smart, and serious, and competent, and loyal, superlatives showered on him night after night. Wei Wuxian is mesmerized by him. Lan Wangji doesn’t want to stray a moment from his lover’s gaze, from the beast’s line of sight.

It’s Sandu Shengshou who tips over the hourglass of their time together, changing the course of Lan Wangji’s life back to what it was, or a semblance of it. Looking at his life now forces a painful comparison to the world where Lan Wangji didn’t know all the things he wanted, missed, and longed for. It hurts so much more now, to know and not have them.

You never get a warning for when things are about to change. One night, Lan Wangji had been walking back home from visiting his older brother; when he exited the subway train, a woman ran past him, up the stairs into the city, and he followed the echo of her sobs to find a vampire. Tonight, he’s fighting a painted-skin ghost with little success. Wei Wuxian intervenes, grabs the monster with claw-shaped hands, throws it to the ground, and from his shadow come the wisps of shadows from the beginning of time, from everywhere, to feed on the monster’s resentment. Wei Wuxian raises his head towards the moon, ecstasy on his lips, on his jaw, in his laugh, eating up the darkness. Lan Wangji grips his sword tighter, unable to look away — and it happens.

Zidian is just as old as Bichen, a relic from ages past, just as powerful now as it was when it was first made. Perhaps it’s older than Wei Wuxian himself, and as such, capable of slicing the vampire’s head clean off in a single sweep. Lan Wangji, from the very first moment he laid eyes on Wei Wuxian, knew his hand would never be firm enough to wield Bichen to eliminate the vampire. But Sandu Shengshou has no appreciation for relics and his blood doesn’t sing Wei Wuxian’s name, so with a flick of the wrist that Lan Wangji fails to see, he attacks Wei Wuxian. The vampire narrowly manages to jump off the painted-skin ghost and land on the wall of the narrow alleyway.

Like Lan Wangji, Sandu Shengshou is not known to be a man of many words. But unlike Lan Wangji, he’s known for his powerful voice in battle, a roar as crackling as the sound of his spiritual whip, and he’s admired for having a hand that never holds back. Like every hunter, Sandu Shengshou’s story is one of loss, but his hate for monsters and ghosts is unrivaled.

With fluid steps and turns, he strikes against Wei Wuxian again. The vampire leaps, twirls in the air, and dives into Lan Wangji’s shadow, disappearing by Lan Wangji’s frozen feet.

“No, you don’t!” Sandu Shengshou barks, throws the tip of Zidian into the pit where Wei Wuxian disappeared to, but when it emerges, there’s only a strip of fabric attached to the whip. The portal disappears, becoming nothing but regular shadow, and with a growl and a snap of Zidian, Sandu Shengshou turns to Lan Wangji.

“I trust you’ll report this to the Lan Council.”

He storms away, lightning bolts in his steps. Lan Wangji stays there, one, two, three, ten seconds, before he falls to his knees like a puppet whose strings were cut by the world’s sharpest weapon.

With Sandu Shengshou as a witness, Lan Wangji can’t fail to report it, not this time.

All of the hunter families get in an uproar at the implications of such a powerful being wandering unrestrained for so long. How many lives has it taken? How many years of bloodshed has it caused? The Patriarch becomes the name on everybody’s tongue, becomes the top target of hunters who come to Lan Wangji’s bookshop. Are there any leads? Should they organize a nationwide hunt?

Lan Wangji is left cold. His steps go back to being controlled, few throughout the day. His breath has no reason to go off-rhythm, just like his heart. He searches the monochrome nights of new moons, asks the ghosts about the one who’s outlived them all, but finds no sign that Wei Wuxian has appeared in town since their last encounter.

The apothecary is run exclusively by the Wen siblings and their young cousin now; when Lan Wangji walks past their windows, their tea isn’t as fragrant as it once was. The smell of night jasmines fades into a memory. Some nights, he takes himself in hand, his own fingers pressing against his tongue, and pretends Wei Wuxian fills him, all the parts of him, even the cracks where his real self slips through. He comes and he’s still cold.

Does cold also run through Wei Wuxian’s veins, wherever he is? Does he long for Lan Wangji’s embrace like Lan Wangji longs for his kisses? Were those nights, countless and endless to Lan Wangji, nothing but a few drops in the vast ocean of the immortal's lifetime? Was any of it real, or had Lan Wangji been one of the vampire's thralls from that very first night?

Days pass. Nights, flavorless meals. The Patriarch becomes too bitter a name on hunters’ tongues after their failures. Some of the Jin hunters claim they find his victims, but Lan Wangji knows they can’t prove it. Wei Wuxian never leaves a mark. Not physical. Nothing like the ones Lan Wangji carries.

He ends his shift, bows to his uncle, makes his dinner. He reads, he meditates. He sits by his window, looks up at the full moon, and lets time slow to a halt. He holds on to a strip of red fabric and remembers all the times he held onto Wei Wuxian’s coat, all the times Wei Wuxian was within reach. Lan Wangji remembers being covered in darkness, traveling through it, and arriving at a place he’s come to call home.

Lan Wangji doesn’t see the hand come out of his shadow. Doesn’t feel a presence emerge, little by little – a head, a toned torso, lean legs. It’s only when Wei Wuxian drapes himself over Lan Wangji’s back, wraps his arms around Lan Wangji’s neck and nuzzles him that Lan Wangji jerks in place, shivers, turns his head. Wei Wuxian is too close, Lan Wangji can’t see him properly, but when Lan Wangji closes his hands around the vampire’s arms, he’s solid, real. Lan Wangji exhales, a shaky thing, and his heart beats the song of reunited lovers, an ancient, timeless tune.

“Did you think I’d let you go, my little blue bird?”

Wei Wuxian’s words tickle Lan Wangji’s ear, make him shiver with a name that belongs only to the two of them.

“Lan Zhan.”

Lan Wangji is wearing blue tonight. There hasn’t been a single day where he hasn’t worn it, like a signal flare in the sky. Come back. Come back to me.

“Do you want me to surrender?” Wei Wuxian asks, his mouth moving against the skin below Lan Wangji’s ear. It’s a delicious sensation. Lan Wangji can’t keep his eyes open, thirsty for every word and touch and second. “Do you want me to give in to your clan, Lan Zhan?”

Lan Wangji opens his eyes. Thinks of all the years he’s lived for his clan, for his duty, for righteousness. Every hunter has a story of loss, every family was almost wiped out from existence at least once. There’s blood on every single one of their backs, and the blood of countless monsters on their hands. Wei Wuxian feeds on humans and monsters alike. He’s as old as time, and he commands Lan Wangji with his fingertips, with his very eyes. He’s dangerous.

The Wens suffered his loss for months. There’s a story there, too. Lan Wangji wants to know. He wants everything.

He stands from his chair next to the window, stands in front of Wei Wuxian. The vampire looks pale. Probably hasn’t fed in a while. But his eyes are still shining golden under the moonlight, and he’s smiling. It’s a soft thing, that smile, weak in a way Lan Wangji has never seen on Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji touches Wei Wuxian’s bottom lip with his thumb, tracing the chapped skin from one side to the other before caressing Wei Wuxian’s cheek.

His other hand moves behind Wei Wuxian’s head and pulls gently. He tilts his own head to the side and guides Wei Wuxian to his neck.

“Wei Ying,” he says, before kissing Wei Wuxian’s temple. He says nothing else. His voice is firm; his breath, calm. For a moment, Wei Wuxian does nothing, doesn’t even hold him, but Lan Wangji isn’t afraid. Are there even words to verbalize everything between them?

All at once, Wei Wuxian circles his arms around Lan Wangji, tight, just short of crushing. He sinks his teeth into the neck so willingly offered and sucks, drawing a pleased gasp from Lan Wangji. The vampire takes a step back and Lan Wangji follows. Another step and they’re falling through the shadows, through the dimensions. Lan Wangji closes his eyes. The smell of the jasmines is like coming home, in an ugly shack in Yiling.

When Wei Wuxian’s teeth leave Lan Wangji this time, he doesn’t lick the wound, doesn’t close it. He lets it bleed, lets it scar, and kisses Lan Wangji. He’s warm now, healthier. There’s blood on his tongue and Lan Wangji savours it. Like Wei Wuxian’s words have become a part of Lan Wangji, of his life, of how he sees the world, Lan Wangji’s blood becomes part of Wei Wuxian — it becomes his lifeforce.

Wei Wuxian once said somebody must have loved Lan Wangji very much, or that different blood ran in Lan Wangji’s veins. Something darker, something from the other side. His parents had their story or tragedy; Lan Wangji might never know his own truth for sure. He feels all that he needs in Wei Wuxian’s embrace: sheltered, appreciated, cared for. And tonight, more than any other night, he dares to say he feels loved.

The vampire kisses the breath out of him, tears his clothes open, and devours him. Lan Wangji clings back, just as fiercely, just as bruising, and bites the vampire’s neck.

Under the gaze of the full moon, Lan Wangji dares.

#The Untamed #Mo Dao Zu Shi #fanfiction #Wangxian #Lan Wangji #Wei Wuxian #alternate universe: supernatural elements #Alternate Universe: Vampires

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