#untamed winter fest

[galaxostars]

fanfiction author interview game

thank you @emlovessid @arviyya and @badhairred for the tag <3

how many works do you have on ao3?

22 on main, 9 on my dead dove

what’s your total ao3 word count?

347,256

your top 5 stories by kudos/likes?

show me your teeth (jegulus)

all of you (drarry)

trip, switch (ron/krum)

untamed desires (drarry/charlie)

“you love a good ride, don’t you?” (jegulus)

do you respond to comments?

always! they make my day

what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

uhhhhhh *scratches chin* I don’t write… sad endings… I guess this one dead dove fic tho it’s still pretty sweet to me (I mean, mind the tags tho lmao)

what’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

honestly all of them but I’d say esp my jegulily and prongsfoot one bc they almost don’t make it in both so giving them their hea was veryyy gratifying

do you write crossovers?

nope

have you ever received hate on a fic?

once or twice on my dead dove acc I think

do you write smut?

almost always I have smmm fun with it

have you ever had a fic stolen?

im assuming this means copied word per word and used for another fandom so nope, I haven’t (weird question tho)

have you ever had a fic translated?

nope

have you ever co-written a fic before?

I did do a round robin once but never actually cowritten something!

what’s your all time favorite ship?

drarry, forever and beyond

what’s a wip that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

my only wip 😭 I will finish it ONE DAY but I just… lack time and keep signing up for fests so it’s just… waiting for me….

what are your writing strengths?

mhm. good question. uhm. maybe giving insight to a character and a little growth for them in a one shot? idk lmao next question fjcjfkfj

what are you writing weaknesses?

repetitions omg I always use the same metaphors 24/7 lmao, this and my ginormous sentences (shoutout to my beta @lilacfiresoul who has to catch all of them). also, remembering the setting of the scene, like did the character already take off this piece of clothing, how are they standing/sitting/what’s their surroundings etc.

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I think it’s sooo wholesome, sometimes I try to understand it based on other languages I know haha, and I have done it a few times by using French

what’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

I have been dyingggg to write some jayvik and melvika. maybe even vanco. like so bad. basically 70% of what I’ve been consuming all winter has been arcane fics lmao and I’ve gotten familiar with these ships (esp jayvik) to the point where I feel like I could probably write them without struggling too much.

what’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

honestlyyyy either one of my sirry fics? maybe this one more than the other, probs bc it’s more recent. idk why but they invoke sm stuff in me and I feel like my prose is best when I write them, both times I wrote them in one go and it just…flowed out of me like word vomit, which is a pretty nice feeling when writing xD

no pressure tags: @bluedahlia912 @locomotiveodyssey @shoopsthereitis @microdamage @starsworth @lilacfiresoul @moonbornjpg @the-invisibility-bloke and anyone who wants to do this!!

[daktyl-z-jordanii-blog]

family

(untamed winter fest 13/31)

[weiwuxiandidnothingwrong]

❄️ Untamed Winter Fest 2019 ❄️ Day 28: Together

We've walked both sides of every street / And through all kinds of windy weather / But that was never our defeat / As long as we could walk together -- Crossroads, Don McLean

[bloody-bee-tea]

Untamed Winter Fest Day 5

Ribbon

When Lan Xichen steps into the room, Nie Mingjue is already pacing. Lan Xichen heaves out a sigh, because that is never a good sign, and he is glad he brought his guqin. If Nie Mingjue is already this agitated, he will surely have to play for him later.

“What’s wrong?” Lan Xichen asks and Nie Mingjue whirls around to him, anger clear as day on his face.

Lan Xichen wishes he would calm himself down, this can’t be good for him.

“They want me to marry!” Nie Mingjue exclaims and Lan Xichen freezes for a second.

“Oh,” he then breathes out, and he tries his best to not let the hurt show on his face.

He knew that it didn’t mean anything for Nie Mingjue when he touched his forehead ribbon, but for Lan Xichen it only held one meaning.

And he doesn’t intend to marry anyone else. 

“Do they already have someone in mind for you?” he wants to know, even though he really, really doesn’t want to know.

“You’re not angry,” Nie Mingjue observes and he instantly deflates. “So it’s true then,” he mutters, clearly not intending Lan Xichen to hear it and he sharply turns away from him.

“I don’t know,” Nie Mingjue says. “I didn’t give them a chance to explain themselves.”

“Why call me here then?” Lan Xichen wants to know, because he can’t see what his presence would do for Nie Mingjue right now, and frankly, he wishes he could be very far away from this right now.

Nie Mingjue turns back around and scrutinizes Lan Xichen for a very long while. The only reason Lan Xichen doesn’t squirm on the spot is because he has known Nie Mingjue for so long that he knows he just needs his time to bring his thoughts in order.

“I hoped you would object, actually,” Nie Mingjue says finally, after a deep breath, and his shoulders tense like he’s bracing for impact. 

Baxia even quivers in his stand next to Nie Mingjue’s seat.

Nie Mingjue has never been this agitated when Lan Xichen was around, and he’s not sure he likes it.

“I don’t have a right to object, do I?” Lan Xichen carefully asks, voice even, because it might start to quiver if Lan Xichen let it.

He wishes he had a right to object.

He has loved Nie Mingjue for longer than he cares to remember, long before they even became sworn brothers and the first time Nie Mingjue touched his forehead ribbon he had felt it in every bone of his body.

But of course Nie Mingjue didn’t mean it like that. He probably doesn’t even know that he’s not allowed to touch it, not anymore, not since they grew up.

Only Lan Xichen’s family and his spouse are allowed to touch it, after all. 

Lan Xichen has no intention of ever letting anyone else touch his ribbon ever again, and if Nie Mingjue truly has to marry someone, someone who isn’t Lan Xichen, then Nie Mingjue won’t be allowed to touch it anymore either. 

Not that Lan Xichen would still want it if that happens.

Lan Xichen instinctively reaches out for the long, dangling ends of his ribbon, freely falling down his back and he wraps them around his own hand, trying to minimize the danger of anyone touching it, of Nie Mingjue touching it again when he doesn’t do it because he wants to marry Lan Xichen.

“I thought--,” Nie Mingjue starts but then shakes his head. “Never mind, actually. I’m sorry I called you here.”

Lan Xichen isn’t, not truly even though these news hurt, because he always takes every chance to see Nie Mingjue, but he bows his head anyway.

“Do you want me to play for you today, or should I leave immediately?”

Nie Mingjue hesitates and then he shakes his head. 

“You don’t have to play,” he says and Lan Xichen’s heart falls, because it’s a clear dismissal.

Nie Mingjue has never been this short with him.

“But you shouldn’t fly back today, either. Rest. You can stay here,” Nie Mingjue goes on, and Lan Xichen wishes he hadn’t.

He knows it’s the right thing, to rest and recuperate, because he flew here in a hurry after getting Nie Mingjue’s letter, and it’s already getting dark out and frankly, Lan Xichen is exhausted.

Emotionally more than physical, but it still wouldn’t be a good idea to fly on his sword right now.

“Alright,” he agrees.

“You know the way, right?” Nie Mingjue asks, already occupied with some paper on his table, and Lan Xichen nods towards his back.

“Yes, I know my place,” he mutters, means it for more than just his room, but Nie Mingjue doesn’t react to it at all.

When he reaches his room, he puts his head in his hands and just breathes for a few minutes. 

This is not what he expected. He knows, logically, that the matter of marriage had to come up sooner or later, for both of them, but he always thought they would marry. 

Going by the Lan’s tradition, Lan Xichen has proposed to Nie Mingjue more than twenty times already, and while he has never been accepted, he also hasn’t been outright refused, and that was enough for Lan Xichen to hold out hope.

Hope, that one day, Nie Mingjue would feel the same for him as he did, that he would be glad to marry him.

It was nothing more than a nice dream, Lan Xichen knows that now.

“Xichen-ge, is everything alright?” Nie Huaisang suddenly asks from the door, and Lan Xichen sits up straight again, pushes everything away and smiles for him.

“Of course it is, Huaisang, why wouldn’t it be?” he says and beacons him into the room. 

Nie Huaisang has grown quite a bit lately, though he’s still very small for an eight year old.

“You looked sad,” Nie Huaisang says and snuggles up to Lan Xichen.

“I’m not,” he reassures him and puts his arm around Nie Huaisang. “I’m just tired.”

“Da-ge looks sad as well,” Nie Huaisang says and plays with the fan in his hand.

Lan Xichen’s heart throbs painfully in his chest; he never wants Nie Mingjue to be sad, but he also doesn’t know how to fix this.

“Xichen-ge, you’re family, right?” Nie Huaisang suddenly asks and Lan Xichen frowns at him.

“A-Sang, you know I’m not part of your family,” he says and Nie Huaisang’s face falls.

“But I have seen da-ge touch your ribbon and call you brother and only family is allowed to touch the ribbon, right?” he inquires as he reaches out to play with the ends himself. “And I’m allowed to touch it as well, because if my brother is your brother, then that makes me your brother, too, am I right?” 

Lan Xichen stares at him in surprise as his mind goes into overdrive.

Could they really be this stupid? Could it really be that Nie Mingjue thinks it’s normal he’s allowed to touch his ribbon because they are sworn brothers?

“Is your brother still in the hall?” Lan Xichen faintly asks and Nie Huaisang beams at him as he nods.

“He’s sitting there much like you were just now,” Nie Huaisang says and Lan Xichen nods. 

“I’m going to talk to him again,” he decides and Nie Huaisang claps his hands together, careful not to damage the fan.

“You should,” he decisively says and Lan Xichen narrows his eyes at him. 

Sometimes, Nie Huaisang strikes him as a lot more intelligent and crafty than he lets on normally.

“Off you go,” Lan Xichen says and gently pushes Nie Huaisang off his bed, but the boy goes more than willingly, skipping along the hallway and whistling a happy tune.

Lan Xichen stares after him until he vanishes around a corner and then he shakes his head. He’s probably giving Nie Huaisang too much credit. 

Lan Xichen quickly walks back to where he saw Nie Mingjue last, and true to Nie Huaisang’s words, Nie Mingjue is sitting there, head in his hands, much like Lan Xichen was just minutes before.

“So I just had a very revealing talk with your brother,” Lan Xichen starts and Nie Mingjue’s head snaps up in surprise.

“What?” he asks and Lan Xichen smiles.

“Sometimes I think he’s a lot more perceptive than he lets on usually.”

“He’s a devious little shit,” Nie Mingjue agrees without hesitation and Lan Xichen can see how proud he is of his brother, before he frowns at him. “What did he say?”

“He asked if we’re family, since he saw you touch my ribbon,” Lan Xichen starts, and reaches back for the ribbon again. “But that’s not how that works, Mingjue,” Lan Xichen explains.

“What do you mean?”

“Only family related by blood, and even then just the immediate one, is allowed to touch the ribbon.”

“Oh,” Nie Mingjue breathes out and Lan Xichen prays to all the ancestors that he isn’t imagining the hope on Nie Mingjue’s face. 

“Other than family only the spouse or cultivation partner is allowed to touch it,” Lan Xichen goes on, as if Nie Mingjue doesn’t know about this. “And if it happens before then, it’s a marriage proposal actually,” Lan Xichen further explains and holds Nie Mingjue’s gaze.

“I touched your ribbon,” Nie Mingjue says and his eyes fall down to where Lan Xichen is now holding the ends of his ribbon. “And you didn’t object.”

“Because I didn’t want to,” Lan Xichen admits. “Because I have known since the very first time you smiled at me that I wanted to marry you.”

“Why didn’t you say?” 

“I was afraid,” Lan Xichen softly says. “You touched my ribbon so freely, but it never seemed to mean anything to you.”

“I thought you only allowed me to touch it because we are sworn brothers. That it made me as good as family and that you didn’t object because of that. I never dared to hope for anything more.”

“Mingjue, in the eyes of my sect, I’m already as good as married to you. Promised to you, at the very least. If my uncle knew how often you touch my ribbon he would have a stroke.”

“Why didn’t you object then, when I told you about the marriage earlier?” Nie Mingjue wants to know, though he’s already walking towards Lan Xichen.

“I thought I didn’t have the right. If you don’t feel the same way about me, then what right do I have to meddle in your business?”

“And what way do you feel about me?” Nie Mingjue asks, a small smile playing around his lips as he reaches out to take the ribbon from Lan Xichen’s hands.

“Like I want to marry you,” Lan Xichen gives back, a huge smile on his face, as he wraps his forehead ribbon around Nie Mingjue’s wrist. “How do you feel about me?” he asks, even though the answer is clear in Nie Mingjue’s sparkling eyes.

“Like I want to accept your proposal,” he whispers back as he tugs Lan Xichen forwards so that he can press a kiss to his lips.

Lan Xichen presses up, deepens the contact, and his heart is beating so fast in his chest, he’s sure Nie Mingjue must notice it.

Not that it matters much when Nie Mingjue chuckles low and happy against his lips before he leans down again, kisses Lan Xichen again and again, and Lan Xichen is sure he’ll never get enough of this.

Not that he has to, now that they are getting married.

“But seriously, your brother,” Lan Xichen starts when Nie Mingjue moves his kisses along Lan Xichen’s jaw.

“Knows too damn much for his own good,” Nie Mingjue agrees between kisses and then gently bites Lan Xichen’s jaw. “Let’s not talk about him now.”

He sucks on the soft skin on Lan Xichen’s throat and Lan Xichen finds it very easy to forget all his thoughts, especially when Nie Mingjue tugs on the ribbon wrapped around his wrist and it comes lose completely. 

“I’m allowed now, right?” Nie Mingjue asks as he gathers the ribbon up, wraps it around his wrist again, before he takes Lan Xichen’s arm and wraps the other end around his hand. 

Lan Xichen stares at their connected arms, feels the happiness settle deep into his bones, and he laughs up at Nie Mingjue.

“That and so much more,” he promises and leans up to press a kiss to Nie Mingjue’s chin.

He has waited so long for this, after all. The more can’t come quickly enough.

[imaginaryelle]

For the Untamed Winter fest day 7 prompt, “relax.” A soft wangxian moment.

Wei Wuxian sits with his back against a tree and draws his fingers through Lan Wangji’s hair. He keeps the touch light and slow. Careful. Reverent.

It’s a rare moment. Precious. Gentle sunlight filters through the pines. Birds chirp. The breeze down from the mountains is just lightly cool, and carries with it the scent of gentian flowers.

Lan Wangji sleeps with his head in Wei Wuxian’s lap, the rise and fall of his breaths soft and regular. His hair ornament sits on a small square of cloth beside them. Bichen stands propped against the tree. A short distance away, Little Apple grazes on bright summer grasses.

Wei Wuxian’s left leg is asleep, but he doesn’t move, and he doesn’t complain. He starts again at Lan Wangji’s brow, smoothing his fingers through ink-dark hair in long, steady strokes, careful not to tangle the forehead ribbon. He watches lines of tension fade from the corners of Lan Wangji’s eyes, watches his shoulders shift and his fingers relax around Wei Wuxian’s other hand as he sinks more deeply into sleep. He hums, softly. A hint of a lullaby.

Later, Wei Wuxian will draw this scene. The two of them, and the tree, and Little Apple, and the flowers. Later, he’ll make a show of inspecting the cuts and bruises Lan Wangji acquired during their night hunt yesterday, even though he can feel his lover’s qi surging, already healing such minor wounds.

Later, he’ll draw his hands over Lan Wangji’s bare wrists, and kiss his palms, and tell him to be more careful.

Later.

Now, he listens to the wind in the trees, and watches the sun shine on white silk and black hair, and waits with the unhurried patience of mountains.

[fytheuntamed]

❄️ Untamed Winter Fest 2019 ❄️ // Day (4/31) // Decorating - Wei Wuxian living his best goth life ft. candles

[theflowergirl]

❄️ Untamed Winter Fest 2019 ❄️ Day 1: Shiver

[Modern AU]

Wei Ying only notices Lan Zhan is next to him when he sees his reflection on the glass window of the antique store.

 “Lan Zhan,” he says, turning his head to him with a lopsided smile. “Aren’t you tired of me yet? I’ve been talking your ear off all day.”

 Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang definitely were, having no qualms about leaving Wei Ying behind while he stopped to look at every single shop in Yunmeng like he had been stranded at sea and hadn’t visited his hometown in something like ten years. In truth, it had only been two whole years since he had gone to Gusu for university, but it was the first time all of his friends were over for winter break and Yunmeng felt so homely with the fairy lights of the season, was he not supposed to bring them everywhere, picking up trinkets and turning them in his hands with no intention to buy them and eating hot snacks from street vendors at Jiang Cheng’s expense around the corners?

 And how could he help himself when Lan Zhan let him pull him by the hand while he gossiped about the residents of every house they walked past, making up stories for those that he didn’t actually know in a matter of seconds, pointing and laughing at all the meaningful places of his childhood while Lan Zhan nodded quietly and Jiang Cheng refuted everything that came out of his mouth?

 With Lan Zhan there, pliant and agreeable and looking closely at everything Wei Ying held and showed, even as the sun started setting, he didn’t really mind it when the others walked away to talk about their own things and listen to their own voices instead of Wei Ying’s. So he really thought Lan Zhan was going away with them, for some peace and quiet of Yunmeng’s dusk. He got tired of himself sometimes too, so he’d understand.

 But if he really is tired of him, he’s too polite to say it. He just walks close, his shoulder brushing against Wei Ying’s as he glances down at the ornate music box the antique shop has on display. His breath fogs up the glass slightly, and Wei Ying’s playful smile fades bit by bit the longer he keeps his eyes on the other’s profile, fair skin contrasting against the lavender Yunmeng sky that slowly receded to a deep violet. He’s so used to seeing Lan Zhan against the cool colors of Gusu and he’s beautiful there, of course, but in the warm winter of Yunmeng, the store lights reflecting their colors on his clear eyes...

 He almost takes a step back when Lan Zhan raises his eyes to him. And even if he tries grinning to cover up the seconds where he heard nothing and saw nothing but Lan Zhan by his side, he must have shown something because the next second, Lan Zhan is unwrapping his own scarf from around his neck and securing it around Wei Ying. The light blue wool carries the scent of Lan Zhan’s body cream and it’s right there, brushing against his nose. And if he felt stupid for staring before, his thinking about short-circuits when Lan Zhan’s fingers touch his nape in an attempt to pull at the hair there, to adjust it over the scarf. He’s incapable of fighting back the shiver that plays down his body and the involuntary action causes Lan Zhan to freeze, a delicate frown appearing between his brows as Wei Ying looks up at him with wide, blinking eyes.

 “Why are you dressed so lightly?”

 He blinks more.

 “Yunmeng winter isn’t as severe as Gusu’s?” He says, his voice tilting with a question mark that he hadn’t really intended. Lan Zhan looks entirely unconvinced. “It barely even snows here, Lan Zhan.”

 “You were shivering.”

 Was I?

“I’m okay!” He insists, but he can’t even try convincing him with a smile because the scarf sits high on his neck and almost covers his nose. He makes a pull at it, desperate to breathe something that is not so obviously Lan Zhan, but the other holds his wrists and pull them down gently. When Lan Zhan makes movements that clearly indicate he’s ready to take off his coat, Wei Ying holds up both of his hands. “Okay! Okay, I’ll keep the scarf. It does get chilly after dark and Jiang Cheng will yell at me if I get sick during the break.” He laughs, waving a hand before clasping both behind his back. “Do you want to go in? Maybe there’s something pretty for sister.”

 He unclasps his hands and takes Lan Zhan’s, having lost count of how many times he’s done that exact same thing that day, and walks into the shop. They walk through the aisles, all the way to the back, taking in all of the faded gold and vintage decorations, Wei Ying putting on a few silly hats on himself and Lan Zhan for the other’s amusement. He’s delighted that it makes his friend smile in that way he only does when they’re alone, and for that, he could spend his entire break on days just like this one — fun and full of pretty little nothings. When he stops to look at some pretty bracelets for Jiang Yanli, he feels warmth slipping away from his grasp as Lan Zhan walks to the counter to talk to the shop owner. He was still holding his hand? He feels his palm sweaty all of a sudden. The scarf is definitely too much, his face too hot under it.

 He calms himself thinking of his sister, taking his time to choose a piece of jewelry that matches her discreet grace. When he finally walks up to the counter to pay for the gift, he notices Lan Zhan has bought something of his own.

 “Eh, why didn’t you show me what you wanted to buy, Lan Zhan?” He whines, his glare definitely ineffective under the bundle of the scarf by the way Lan Zhan tilts his head at him.

 “It’s a secret.”

 “Lan Zhan! You can’t keep secrets from me!”

 Without another word, Lan Zhan walks away as Wei Ying pays for Yanli’s present. Once outside, Wei Ying nudges his shoulder against the other’s.

 “Is it for brother Xichen? Is it for me? Tell me, you know I hate surprises.”

 “You’ll see.”

 He says his name with a whine again, at the same time his phone sounds an alarm in his pocket.

 “Jiang Cheng says that if we’re not at the restaurant in five minutes, I’ll have to pay for my own food. Let’s run, Lan Zhan!”

 “I’ll pay for you,” Lan Zhan answers simply, slipping a hand in the pocket of his long coat, walking slowly (perhaps even slower than his usual pace). Wei Ying laughs.

 “I knew you cared for me, Lan Zhan!”

 Lan Zhan doesn’t grace him with any agreement, but neither does he show any sign of disagreement. The grin Wei Ying sports underneath the layers of the scarf disappears when that warm hand takes his, taking the initiative for the first time that day and ever.

 “Let’s go before you get cold,” he says.

 They take fifteen minutes.

[myasphodelmeadow]

❄️Untamed Winter Fest 2019❄️

06 Warmth

Hold me in this wild, wild, world ‘Cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be

Warmth - Bastille

[twistedteacupart]

Just a cute modern-y winter scene for WangXian ^_^ 

Untamed Winterfest - Day 28: “Together”

[problematiquefics]

i’ll bet your sadness shimmers (wangxian, g)

for day 29: frozen of untamed winter fest. cross-posted to ao3. 

Lan Wangji was born with a curse.

Cold seeped from his finger tips and ice crystals formed on everything he touched. When his emotions got the better of him, the surrounding air turned frigid and storm clouds gathered over his head.

So he didn’t lose control. He wore gloves. He didn’t touch anyone. He didn’t allow himself the luxury of feelings. The heart, where emotions were rooted, was a traitorous organ – and it was where the curse lied.

Conceal, don’t feel, he reminded himself again and again. He said it to himself when he woke up in the morning, when he ate his breakfast around the other students of Gusu Lan, during lessons with Lan Qiren, each time he flipped a page while studying alone in the library, and every night before bed. Forgetting wasn’t an option. If anyone knew…

He doesn’t remember the first time his powers manifested. Too young. Perhaps he was an infant, reaching for his mother’s hair with chubby hands, crystals of ice forming before his unknowing eyes. Maybe he was a toddler, first learning to walk, each step leaving a footprint of frost. He doesn’t know and no one has told him.

(He’s also never asked.)

But his first memory is related. It wasn’t of his powers. It was of a discussion about them.

He was sitting on Lan Qiren’s lap, playing with strands of his uncle’s hair. Words were spoken around him, about him, but he was too young to care. Too young to know what most of it meant. In hindsight, he flinches when he remembers some of those suggestions. They were cruel, more fit for a ferocious ghost than a little boy. But what were they to do? They didn’t even know where the powers came from. But they knew, with certainty, that it had to be a curse.

An unbreakable one, evidently.

Lan Wangji’s control is impeccable. He was seven the last time he lost control, an incident he’ll never forget – not when his uncle still has a stripe of white hair. The gloves never come off, he never loses his temper. He can’t afford to. Yet…

A boy with dark hair and a wicked grin arrives in the Cloud Recesses.

He has no respect for the rules. He sneaks wine in past the gates and offers it to Lan Wangji like it’s no big deal. It’s not, not to Wei Wuxian. He is reckless and wild, a storm of black and red and flashing teeth. On his first day in class, he suggests another way to combat ferocious enemies – to harness resentment, to practice dark magic.

Wei Wuxian is trouble.

Lan Wangji knows this.

But he stirs something inside of Lan Wangji. He has a temper that Lan Wangji can’t have. He has a rebellious streak that Lan Wangji can’t have. He has a soul that Lan Wangji wishes he could have.

Wei Wuxian leaves him conflicted, confused, and out of balance. No one and nothing has ever tested his control like Wei Wuxian has.

If Wei Wuxian were the only one to test him, he thinks he could handle it. But then the Qishan Wen burn the Cloud Recesses. They gather the young members of each clan and force them to work under Wen Chao’s cruelty. He is trapped in a cave with little hope of survival. Lotus Pier is razed to the ground.

Wei Wuxian goes missing.

They find Jiang Wanyin but the only sign of adopted brother is his bell.

Lan Wangji searches. Night after night he plays Inquiry. Gossip may be against Cloud Recesses’ rules but it doesn’t stop him from listening to every whispered word. He needs to knows. He has to know.

Finally, he hears something.

Wen Chao cast Wei Wuxian into the burial mounds.

His heart thuds against his ribcage.

No.

It can’t be true.

Wei Wuxian can’t be dead.

Because there is only one fate if it is true – that wicked smile, that storm cloud of a cultivator, is gone.

Lan Wangji locks himself in his room. The temperature plummets inside, icicles forming on the ceiling. Snowflakes hang suspended in air. He sits on his bed and tries to breathe. Tries because his lungs feel frozen.

“Lan Wangji?” a familiar voice calls from the other side of his door.

Lan Xichen.

The door slides open. His brother’s eyes scan the room. He breathes in and then out, a white cloud escaping his lips.

“What’s wrong?”

Barely louder than a murmur, he answers, “Wei Wuxian.”

“We’ll find him.”

“He’s dead.”

“Maybe not,” Lan Xichen says, a look of desperate hope in his eyes. “Wen Chao boasts. It might be a lie.”

“He’s gone.”

The room grows colder, darker. Outside, clouds block the sun – the rarest of occurrences.

“Brother…”

He can barely hear Xichen. There’s a storm inside his mind, a blizzard howling in his ears. It’s consuming. The cold is racing through his veins.

“Brother!” Xichen squeezes his wrists. He hadn’t even realized his brother had moved. “You’re losing control. You need to control it.”

Objectively, of course, he knows that but the words he has told himself all his life are drowned out by the storm.

“I can’t.”

A broken whisper but it goes off like a firework.

The storm rages but it’s no longer inside his head.

The world is white – from Lotus Pier to the Nightless City. If one thing can be said, it puts a damper on the fighting. Yet it certainly doesn’t stop the war. Rumors spread of Wen soldiers bbeing gruesomely massacred – it’s not the work of any clan nor the work of any ghost. Dark shadows fall over the fresh snow.

But Lan Wangji knows none of this.

After the blizzard started, he fled the Cloud Recesses.

He can’t tell you where he is now. Some mansion, some place, somewhere. Completely alone. Yet it doesn’t calm his mind and it can’t tame the storm. His mantra has stopped working.

At this point, he doesn’t know what can.

“Lan Zhan?”

That voice…

He opens his eyes, tilts up his head, looks at the face staring back at him.

It’s changed but… The same, too.

His hair is done, somehow more wild than even. His eyes are the same shade yet colder. And the energy that radiates from him is…

Dark.

Wei Wuxian kneels beside him. Slender fingers reach out, caressing his cheek.

He grins. It’s a different kind of wicked.

“Did you miss me?”

Lan Wangji blinks at him. “You died.”

“Rumors of my death were greatly exaggerated. Besides… I couldn’t die without saying goodbye to you, could I?”

It’s not right. He’s not right. But Wei Wuxian is right in front of him, alive, and the storm outside stops.

[hyperfixatedonmdzs]

Untamed Winter Fest Day 6: Warmth (Ao3)

Wei Wuxian had not been this cold since before Jiang Fengmian had taken him off the streets. Freezing rain poured over the recent battlefield, soaking him to the bone as he watched disciples from the rebel sects make sure there were no living Wen-dogs. Satisfied he was not needed, he turned back towards the camp. He suppressed the shivering that threatened to take over his movements- he was good at masking that by now.

Walking through camp he ignored fearful looks and respectful nods alike. At least the fear was genuine. Wei Wuxian entered his tent and shucked off his wet robes, changing quickly into a dry set. He was too tired to organise a hot bath for himself and everyone else was too busy tending to the wounded. He sat on his bed, drawing the blanket around his shoulders. Just a few minutes, he thought to himself.

----------

Lan Wangji stepped into the mess tent, eyes automatically sweeping across faces as he moved to collect whatever tonight’s meal was. The blood and gore that had spattered his previous robes had left him with little appetite, but he knew to keep up his strength.

“Hanguang-Jun!” He turned towards the soft voice. Jiang Yanli, a tray holding a covered bowl in her hands, bowed to him. As he returned the gesture, she spoke. “Have you seen Wei Wuxian?”

He paused. “I have not.”

Jiang Yanli frowned. “He hasn’t come in yet.” Lan Wangji eyed the bowl she held. He’d last seen Wei Wuxian from afar as the horrendous tones from his dizi cut through the rain and hail. Why hadn’t he come to eat, to replenish his energy? After standing out there for hours, even the hardiest cultivator needed refreshment.

“I will bring him food,” he offered, holding out his hands.

“Ah!” Jiang Yanli protested, “that’s not-”

“Is this not for him?”

“It is, but…” She looked back at the kitchen, then at him. “Wait here,” she said firmly, hurrying back through. She returned with an extra bowl on the tray. “So you don’t miss dinner either,” she smiled.

Lan Wangji bowed. “Thank you,” he said quietly. He turned and left the mess tent, striding through the mud to Wei Wuxian’s quarters.

----------

There was no response to Lan Wangji scratching at the entrance to Wei Wuxian’s tent. Nor was there an answer when he called his name. He peered through the entrance and paused at what he saw.

Wei Wuxian was slumped over on his side, wrapped in a mound of blanket with legs sticking out, dangling off of the bed. His face was pinched in his sleep, the occasional shudder wracking his body. Was he unwell?

Lan Wangji stepped into the tent, lightly placing the tray onto the table in the forefront of the space. He paused as Wei Wuxian shuddered again. Kneeling by the bed he softly felt Wei Wuxian’s forehead with the back of his hand. His skin was icy where he touched. That he did not wake when he entered meant that something was very wrong. He moved his hand from his forehead to his wrist, feeling the barely there pulse. Sending his energy through the meridian there, he searched for the source of his illness. Lan Wangji’s frowned minutely. Wei Wuxian’s energy was weak. It flowed sluggishly, hardly responding to Lan Wangji’s gentle blue fire. He let his own energy flow through the sleeping man, whose shudders slowly subsided. When it reached where his core was however, the energy seemed to stutter and stumble. Lan Wangji’s grip on Wei Wuxian’s wrist tightened. Again and again he swept through where his core should have been, as if each new time he checked it would reappear.

A vice-like grip clenched his wrist, breaking the flow of energy between them.

~|~

“Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian tried to keep the panic out of his voice.

“Wei Ying.”

“How unlike a Lan to creep into someone’s tent,” he sniped.

Lan Wangji removed his hand. “How?”

Wei Wuxian scoffed softly. “Does it matter now?” Lan Wangji lowered his gaze. This was it. He’d known this moment would come eventually. He just thought he’d have more time. “What’s wrong Lan Zhan? Can’t stand the sight of me now?” His head snapped back up, some unnameable emotion flashing in his eyes. Wei Wuxian retreated further into his blanket. “Why are you here?” He scolded.

Lan Wangji stood. “You should eat.” Wei Wuxian stared at him as he moved towards the familiar bowls on the table. “Jiang Yanli- “ Wei Wuxian flailed as he tried to sit up. He moved his stare from Lan Wangji to the steam that rose from the bowl as it’s lid was lifted. His eyes widened as the scent of lotus root and pork rib soup reached him and he scrambled to the table that Lan Wangji now sat at, blanket still around his shoulders. Lan Wangji watched as he lifted a spoonful with a trembling hand.

“Isn’t staring against the rules?” A line appeared between Lan Wangji’s brows.

“You are cold,” He said. Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes, ignoring him in favour of practically inhaling the soup. As he finished his bowl, Lan Wangji slid the other towards him. He shrugged and dug in. Halfway through the second bowl, Wei Wuxian began to slow. “Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji tried.

“There’s no fixing me, Lan Zhan,” he snapped. “You cannot heal something that isn’t there.” He placed the spoon carefully back into the bowl before curling in on himself. He could still feel those golden eyes on him. After a while he shuddered. “You’re right, Lan Zhan.” He whispered. “I am cold.” He felt Lan Wangji move to sit beside him. “I’m always cold, these days.” An arm slowly came around him, giving him time to pull away. When he made no move to resist, Lan Wangji pulled him close. Gradually, warmth seeped through the blanket and Wei Wuxian let out a shaky sigh, melting into the embrace. He peered out from his cocoon. “Lan Zhan?”

“Mn.” He looked down at the man in his arms. “I am here.”

“Why?” Golden eyes blinked at him. “Why are you here?” Lan Wangji looked away. Wei Wuxian noticed pink creeping up his ears.

“Wei Ying is… important.” Wei Wuxian chuckled. “It’s true, the campaign would probably fail without my skills.” He poked at him through the blanket. “That doesn’t mean you have to do this Lan Zhan. I know you don’t like contact.” Lan Wangji sighed. Wei Wuxian yelped as he was suddenly lifted.

“Lan Zhan!”

“Mn.”

“What are you doing?!” Lan Wangji lowered him onto the bed, then carefully curled around him. Wei Wuxian was frozen in shock. Was this the same Lan Zhan that yelled at him to get lost? That insisted that they were not close at all? He turned so that they were facing each other, Lan Wangji still pressed up against him. “Aren’t you cold too Lan Zhan?” He opened up his blanket, covering them both. Noticing the red that spread from his ears, down his neck, Wei Wuxian held in a smirk. Regardless of his embarrassment, Lan Wangji’s arm reached over his torso, pulling him closer. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian murmured into his chest, “but this is much warmer.” Lan Wangji was silent for a moment, debating with himself.

“To me.” Wei Wuxian stirred.

“Hmm?”

“Wei Ying is important… to me.” Wei Wuxian froze, then slowly looked up. Lan Wangji’s face was as blank as it always was except… there was something in his eyes. Something dark, yet warm. He opened his mouth, but what could he say? Lan Zhan deserved much more than a cold, broken, demonic cultivator. How could he drag someone so pure down with him? He fisted his hands into Lan Wangji’s robes before hearing hurried footsteps in the mud outside.

“Wei Wuxian! Why aren’t you— “ Jiang Cheng burst into the tent and froze. His face matched his robes in seconds.

“Jiang Cheng!” Wei Wuxian peered over Lan Wangji’s shoulder. “Why didn’t you knock!”

“You—!” Jiang Cheng spluttered, pointing at them. Lan Wangji was still facing Wei Wuxian, eyes the widest he had ever seen on the man. “Wei Wuxian! Get some shame!”

“You’re the one that barged in Jiang Cheng, don’t blame me!” Wei Wuxian laughed. A strangled noise came from his brother.

“GET TO THE COMMAND TENT!” He shouted, running from the tent. Wei Wuxian collapsed back onto the bed, cackling. He turned to the man sharing his blanket.

“Ah, Lan Zhan, I haven’t laughed like that in a long time.” Lan Wangji’s eyes softened.

“We shouldn’t keep them waiting,” he said. Wei Wuxian’s hand shot out as he started to slip out of the bed.

“Wait, Lan Zhan!” He paused. “Just, before we go…” He cupped Lan Wangji’s cheek and quickly, as if to out-pace his thoughts, pressed their lips together. Lan Wangji’s breath hitched and Wei Wuxian pulled back, his face as pink as Lan Wangji’s ears. “Lan Zhan is important to me too,” he said. A smile ghosted across Lan Wangji’s lips, fast enough that Wei Wuxian thought he’d imagined it. Looking between Wei Wuxian and the entrance of the tent, he sighed in frustration.

“We should go…” His voice seemed strained. Wei Wuxian chuckled.

“We can come back,” he reassured him. The smile flickered again, just as brief as before. If Wei Wuxian could keep that smile returning, he felt his life would be fulfilled. Lan Wangji slipped out of the bed and held out his hand. Wei Wuxian took it and together they went help the rebel commanders plan for the next step in the war against the Wen’s tyranny.

[daktyl-z-jordanii-blog]

for you

(untamed winter fest 21/31)

[lexiegirlstuff]

The Untamed Winter Fest - Day 1: Shiver

All of these will be loosely connected, about the same people in different stages of their life, which is why they will be accompanied by the ages the main characters are. 

Also in Ao3 if you prefer.

Day 1 – Shiver

First Date – Age 15

“You should call him and cancel.” Jiang Cheng said from the doorway of their shared bathroom.

“We already had to move the date twice, I’m not moving it again!” Wei Wuxian answered with as much indignation as he could, first their coach decided to hold daily training before the last archery meet of the year, and then Lan Zhan had a recital come up.

They had been trying to go out for almost a month now! He was not calling and canceling! He. Was. Not.

“You are shivering.” Jiang Cheng said unhelpfully, munching on apple, crouching it loudly. “And there is snot in your nose.”

“I’ll be fine!” He angrily wiped his nose.

“Famous last words!” Jiang Cheng singsong-ed before leaving to meet Huaisang and a few other of their friends to play videogames, in the teenage boy version of a sleepover.

“I’ll be fine. I can do this” Wuxian said to his reflection in the mirror. He looked alright, if a little flushed, and his head ached a bit but it wasn’t too bad -yet – and he dearly wished he could take some flu-medicine but the stuff always knocked him out.

And he was not cancelling this date. HE. WAS. NOT!

But he was going to add another layer to his clothes, he thought as he shivered again.

*-*-*

Lan Wangji was waiting by the door. Had been waiting by the door for at least half an hour, even though Wei Ying said he would pick him up at 6:30. Thankfully his brother was at study-group and his uncle working late – and the maids and housekeeper were busy elsewhere -  so there was no one to witness his eagerness.

When Wei Ying had asked him out, part of Lan Wangji thought it was a joke or something, Wei Ying was the most popular boy in their grade and one of the nicest people he had ever known, though he could also be a bit childish and hated being ignored. He was… cute.

“Ready?” Wei Ying said with his usual cheerfulness, when Wangji opened the door.

“Mn,” Wangji said, stepping outside and closing the door. “Where are we going?”

“I-“ Wei Ying started before he stumbled over his own feet and would have face planted if not because Wangji caught him. “Sorry.”

“Are you all right?”

“I’m perfectly fine! How about we watch a movie?” Wei Ying tried to right himself.

“Wei Ying, stop.”

“Lan Zhan,”

“You have a fever.” Wangji said, pressing his palm against Wei Ying’s forehead.

“Your hand is so cool,” Wei Ying muttered, moving forward. “So, movie?”

Lan Wangji sighed and shook his head.

*-*-*

Not 10 minutes later, Wei Wuxian found himself wrapped in a warm quilt in front of the TV, waiting while Lan Zhan made tea.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to cancel but now I’m putting you through so much trouble.”

“No trouble,” Lan Zhan said, handling him a hot mug and two anti-flu pills. “We can still watch a movie here.”

“This is not how I expected to find myself on your couch, certainly not on the first date.”

“Umm?” Lan Zhan said, while he went through the TV-guide to find something to watch.

“You know. I’m not the sort of person who kisses – or goes home with someone – on the first date. Or maybe I am. I don’t know. I like you.” Wei Ying was startling to ramble.

“You like everyone.”

“Get along with everyone, there is a difference.” Wei Ying said. “It’s a necessity when you are the poor relation,” His father had been a distant cousin of Uncle Jiang, who took him in after his parents’ deaths. “But you- you are especially good. I like-like you.”

“I like-like you too.”

“If it weren’t for my germs, I’d kiss you.”

“I almost never get sick.”

“Famous last words.” Wei Ying said, straightening a little on the seat. “But fine, I’m yours for the next 15 minutes before the flu-medicine takes me out.”

Wei Ying let Lan Zhan take over, the soft teasing kisses were so nice, even the little bites to his bottom lip, they made him shiver in a way that had nothing to do with being cold.

[bloody-bee-tea]

Untamed Winter Fest Day 10

Glow

This is inspired by the Eldritch!Lan AU back on @angstymdzsthoughts and it was a delight to play in this sandbox (I might do some Zhuiyi later because I love this AU) 

When Jiang Cheng wakes up, he’s immediately alert.

He doesn’t wake up during the night; he always sleeps like a log, so when he blinks awake and notices that it’s still pitch dark outside, the adrenaline spikes hard.

He calms his breathing, tries to listen for anything that could have woke him up, but he finds only silence, can’t even hear the soft breathing of Lan Xichen, who should be next to him in bed.

Jiang Cheng carefully turns his head, maybe the absence of his boyfriend is what woke him up, but when he looks at Lan Xichen’s side, he’s met with something so dark it even stands out against the darkness of the night.

There’s a void next to him in bed and Jiang Cheng throws himself out of it, Zidian already crackling and sparking, illuminating the room in a faint purple.

Jiang Cheng can see the black mass jerk, as if it was startled, and then eyes appear on the shapeless form. A cold shudder runs down Jiang Cheng’s back when more and more eyes open, too many to count, all over the blackness, and they all must glow, emit their own light, because the room gets brighter and brighter with every eye that is opened.

And it just doesn’t stop.

Jiang Cheng thinks there must be eyes on every inch of that black void, and his heart goes into overdrive.

The monster is laying where Lan Xichen should be. If it hurt him, Jiang Cheng will find every single eye on that thing and squeeze them out.

The black thing suddenly becomes agitated, Jiang Cheng can see some kind of tentacles move, and it shakes him with how wrong it seems. There are too many eyes and tentacles and limbs, and his brain has a hard time processing it all.

Suddenly a sound fills the room; Jiang Cheng can’t see a mouth on the thing, doesn’t know where it comes from, but it fills every inch of the room, putting an immense pressure on his head. It almost sounds like a whine, low and distressed, but it’s also sparking an intense headache, so Jiang Cheng only cares for it to stop.

Zidian comes alive in his hand, whip uncurling and slightly moving against the floor, though Jiang Cheng still hesitates. There are just too many limbs.

And then, suddenly, everything stops. The whine fades out, the limbs still and the eyes close one after another, until only two are left. A ripple goes through the form, a sound like a sigh coming from it, and then, in a move that almost makes Jiang Cheng go insane with its impossibility, the black thing reshapes to take the form of Lan Xichen.

“Jiang Cheng,” he rasps out, trepidation and fear clear on his face, and Jiang Cheng knows it wasn’t a trick of light or whatever.

Lan Xichen is not as human as he made Jiang Cheng believe.

Jiang Cheng continues to stare at Lan Xichen’s pleading face for a very long moment, before he calls Zidian back, turns around and leaves.

Lan Xichen is a monster. That’s the only thought in his head; his memory helpfully replaying the sight of that eye-covered, tentacled void next to him in bed over and over again and Jiang Cheng feels sick.

Lan Xichen lied to him all this time.

Jiang Cheng’s mind is whirring, wonders if it’s just Lan Xichen or if it’s a Lan thing in general, and he briefly fears for his brother. Hopefully Wei Wuxian is safe. He married one of the Lan’s after all.

Jiang Cheng shakes his head at that thought; Wei Wuxian can take care of himself. What’s more important is that a monster is lose in Lotus Pier and it needs to be stopped, before it can hurt anyone.

Jiang Cheng has barely thought that when he stops dead in his tracks.

If Lan Xichen has been like this all the time, then he has never done anything to hurt Jiang Cheng or anyone else in Lotus Pier.

Lan Xichen has been nothing but doting and sweet; he cares for Jiang Cheng as much as he does for everyone else of this clan and if he really, truly is a monster, then it doesn’t make sense.

Jiang Cheng grinds his teeth together as he balls his fists, because it doesn’t change anything.

Lan Xichen lied to him all this time.

For good reason, a traitorous voice in his head says, and Jiang Cheng has to admit that it might be right.

If this is how Jiang Cheng reacts to this secret, then it’s no wonder Lan Xichen tried to keep it hidden.

Jiang Cheng huffs out an angry breath as he turns around and storms back to his room. He deserves an explanation, and by the ancestors, he will get one, even if he has to face Lan Xichen in that other form again.

When he throws the door to his room open, he hesitates in the doorway when he sees Lan Xichen pack his things.

“What are you doing?” he snaps out, and Lan Xichen whirls around, clearly taken by surprise that Jiang Cheng is back so soon.

“Preparing for the inevitable,” Lan Xichen tells him with a small, sad smile. “I’m sorry.”

“So it was you,” Jiang Cheng says, because that apology clearly is a confession as well. “It wasn’t just a trick of light, or something else stealing your shape. It was you.”

“Yes,” Lan Xichen admits, and he’s not meeting Jiang Cheng’s eyes.

He distantly wonders what happened to all his other eyes.

“You’re not human,” Jiang Cheng states the obvious and Lan Xichen flinches under his words as if he’s been hit with Zidian.

Jiang Cheng is only met with silence, though he doesn’t expect an answer.

“Is it just you, or is it everyone in your clan?” Jiang Cheng asks, and the Sect Leader part of him wonders if they could take the Lan Clan if all of them are like this.

“No Lan has ever been born human,” Lan Xichen lowly admits and the admission sends a shiver down Jiang Cheng’s back.

He gives himself a moment to process that answer, before his brain turns into an unsuspected direction.

“Your mother was human,” he says and suddenly it makes a lot more sense, the unhappy marriage Lan Xichen has told him about.

Lan Xichen merely nods at that.

“But she loved you regardless,” Jiang Cheng goes on, because he remembers how Lan Xichen talked about her.

“On the days where she could forget what we were,” Lan Xichen lowly admits. “She tried her best, but there were days where she could barely look at us. Days, where she wouldn’t even touch us. It got better once Wangji learned to control his form, but it was never easy.”

“What are you?” Jiang Cheng wants to know but Lan Xichen helplessly shrugs.

“We have no language. There is no word for what we are. I think our Ancestor tried to give us one, but the best he could do was Lan.”

Jiang Cheng is silent for a moment before he looks to the side as he asks his next question.

“Do you sleep like that every night?”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t know what Lan Xichen sees on his face, but he sucks in a surprised, pained breath before he shakes his head.

“I’m usually a lot better of keeping to this form,” he admits. “I don’t know what happened.”

“Would you have told me?” Jiang Cheng wants to know, though he knows the answer and he tries his best to not let that sting.

He thought they had more trust in their relationship.

“Eventually,” Lan Xichen says, effectively catching Jiang Cheng off guard. “I would have told you before I asked you to marry me. My mother—she only found out afterwards, and I would never do that to you.”

Jiang Cheng can only nod at that, too surprised that Lan Xichen has even thought so far yet to form any coherent words.

Apparently the silence is too long for Lan Xichen, because he nods once, almost to himself, before he grabs his pouch and picks up Liebing.

“I’m going to leave now,” he whispers and then looks back up at Jiang Cheng. “Please don’t tell anyone. We have never hurt anyone, we’re not a danger to you or the other sects. We just wish to live in peace.”

Jiang Cheng’s heart is beating wildly in his chest, an immense pressure building up at the thought of Lan Xichen leaving, and he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind.

“How many eyes do you have?”

Lan Xichen stops in his tracks, blinking at him in clear confusion.

“As many as I need,” he eventually says and Jiang Cheng tries to imagine how he just wills more eyes to appear, but his imagination fails him.

Lan Xichen waits for a moment, clearly expecting more questions, but when none come, he resumes his walking.

Jiang Cheng takes a moment to imagine it, Lan Xichen leaving his life never to return, and he is surprised at how much it hurts. He doesn’t want to live without Lan Xichen by his side, no matter what he is.

Jiang Cheng doubts Lan Xichen lied to him about his feelings; he remembers every kiss and every whispered “I love you”, and he never detected any insincerity in it. Though, given how successfully Lan Xichen kept this secret from him, it might not mean anything.

“Did you lie to me all this time?” Jiang Cheng blurts out, just as Lan Xichen reaches the door and he turns around with an incredulous look on his face.

“I didn’t just turn like this last night,” Lan Xichen gives back and Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“No, not about that,” he tries to explain. “About your feelings. Did you lie when you said you loved me?” he asks, and suddenly he wishes he could take it back, doesn’t want to know the truth.

If Lan Xichen says yes, Jiang Cheng will break, he knows it.

“Never,” Lan Xichen says with vehemence. “I have never lied to you about that, Jiang Cheng. I love you. We might not have a language, but we do feel. And I feel so much for you.”

Jiang Cheng staggers slightly, he’s so relieved, but then he straightens back up. Lan Xichen is still hovering at the door, clearly uncertain if he should leave now, and Jiang Cheng wants to call him back so desperately.

He doesn’t want Lan Xichen to leave.

“Can I see?” he lowly asks and Lan Xichen jerks with his question.

“See what?” he carefully asks as his hand drops from the door completely.

“Your form. What you truly are.”

“You already did,” Lan Xichen reminds him but Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“I saw something where I expected my boyfriend to be. I have not seen you.”

“I don’t know—,” Lan Xichen starts and trails off when Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“Xichen, please. Let me see.”

Lan Xichen works his jaw for a moment, before he nods, once and sharp, and walks back into the room.

Jiang Cheng quickly wonders if they have to light some candles for him to see better, but by now it’s light outside and he should see just fine.

“Don’t watch the transformation. It’s hard for the human brain to process,” Lan Xichen instructs him and while Jiang Cheng all too clearly recalls the sickening feeling of his brain trying to put the view in front of him into an understandable shape, he shakes his head.

He has to see, in order to fully believe it.

“Fine,” Lan Xichen huffs out and then, without warning, his shape ripples before it expands into something else.

It hurts Jiang Cheng’s brain just as much as the first time, but he keeps his eyes on Lan Xichen, watches him grow and twist into his true form.

The daylight just makes it more pronounced just how black Lan Xichen is like this; it’s not the absence of light, it’s more like he’s emitting the dark, and it’s eating any light that touches it. Jiang Cheng can’t make out a head, wouldn’t even know where to start with the fluidly changing shape in front of him.

He watches tentacles grow and disappear again, an ever-moving void where once Lan Xichen stood and Jiang Cheng shakes his head at that.

It’s still Lan Xichen. And he’s holding back.

“Show me,” Jiang Cheng demands, again, and the whole mass halts, before it slightly crumbles, something resembling a sigh filling the whole room, and then the eyes blink open again and the tentacles spread out even farther.

This time Jiang Cheng takes his time to look at the eyes, really look at them, and while there are still too many for him to be entirely comfortable, now he can see that they all have Lan Xichen’s eye color, even though they are not all of the same shape.

They truly must glow, because they cause something like a halo to form around the pitch-black mass, and it makes the darkness glitter and gleam, almost like oil on water.

If Jiang Cheng is honest, it’s kind of beautiful.

He takes a deep breath and then starts to walk around Lan Xichen. He doesn’t turn with him, doesn’t have to with eyes all over his body, but Jiang Cheng knows that he’s watching his every move very closely.

Jiang Cheng wonders if Lan Xichen will compress himself into his human form again, if he should find a trace of disgust or hate on Jiang Cheng’s face.

Jiang Cheng unconsciously reaches out and the mass in front of him jerks back, causing Jiang Cheng to take his hand back.

“Can I touch?” he asks, waits patiently for permission, even though now that the thought has entered his head, his fingers itch with the need to reach out.

There’s a new sound in the air, something almost questioning and Jiang Cheng shrugs.

“I saw, and now I want to touch,” he explains and the sound stops.

Neither of them move for the longest time, but then, finally, Lan Xichen uncurls one of his many tentacles and brings it closer to Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng holds out his hand, waits for the tentacle to brush over his skin before he turns his hand and touches his fingertips to the too smooth surface.

He slides his hand up and down, mesmerized by the feel of it, by the sight of his pale hand against black so dark it swallows everything, and he can’t help the fascinated smile on his face.

Jiang Cheng startles slightly when an eye blinks open next to his hand and he laughs as he lightly slaps the tentacle, careful not to hit the eye.

“You did that on purpose,” he accuses Lan Xichen, who somehow manages to get a bashful shrug across, even in this form.

Jiang Cheng can feel some smaller tentacles touch his legs, his back, curious and light in their exploration, and he wonders if he feels different to Lan Xichen in this form.

Before Jiang Cheng can think too much about it, he takes determined steps forward, right into the ever-moving blackness of his boyfriend.

He had thought it would be terrifying, being swallowed by this much darkness, but it’s not. It’s warm and protected and Jiang Cheng sinks into Lan Xichen with a smile, trusts his boyfriend to catch him, and he does.

It’s not at all like falling into a soft bed, but it’s the best comparison Jiang Cheng is capable of making and when the tentacles hesitantly embrace him, he lets himself go boneless.

He isn’t sure how he knows, but he can feel how much Lan Xichen loves him and when another eye blinks into existence next to his head, he isn’t even surprised anymore.

“I love you,” he sighs out as he nuzzles into the tentacles all around him and when Lan Xichen takes his human form this time, it barely even hurts his brain anymore.

“I love you, too,” Lan Xichen tells him and leans down to press a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s forehead.

“I could feel that,” Jiang Cheng contentedly tells him and only looks back at Lan Xichen when he lets out a soft “Oh”.

“You didn’t know about that?”

“I have never held a human like this, never allowed anyone to see my true form after mother,” Lan Xichen admits and Jiang Cheng is surprised at how pleased he is by that admission.

How possessive, as well.

“Is it strange for you, to take this human form?” Jiang Cheng wants to know and slightly pulls away from Lan Xichen, who takes a second to think about that question.

“It’s not strange, per se. I feel—compressed, like too much of my mass has to fit into this tiny space,” he finally says and to Jiang Cheng it feels like he’s trying the words out, to see how much they actually fit, but in the end Lan Xichen nods. “It’s not bad, though.”

“You can be who you are around me whenever you like,” Jiang Cheng offers him, and he’s startled to see the tears in Lan Xichen’s eyes.

“Thank you,” Lan Xichen breathes, as he pulls him close, presses him to his chest and doesn’t let him go for the longest time.

Jiang Cheng just puts his arms around him as well, knows Lan Xichen is thanking him for more than just the offer and he hates to think that Lan Xichen was so afraid of showing this to him.

When Jiang Cheng feels some tentacles join in on their hug, he just smiles into Lan Xichen’s chest, as he offers one of his hands, which one of the many tentacles wraps around immediately.

It’s like being hugged and holding hands all at once and Jiang Cheng loves it.

He knows they have to talk about this some more, there are still questions Jiang Cheng has, but for now, he just enjoys being held and being loved by his not-at-all-monstrous boyfriend.

Next part

[imaginaryelle]

Meta: Luminaries and Power in MDZS

Apparently I’m doing meta for the Untamed Winterfest “star” prompt (day 14) because I keep thinking about “rising stars” and “falling stars” and supernovas and the sun and guiding stars, which makes me think a lot (a lot a lot) about Wei Wuxian, and the Wens, and Jin Guangyao, and Lan Wangji.

Like, we have the Wens here, right?

And the Wens are basically the cautionary tale for the whole rest of the plot. “Do Not Covet Power” the story tells us over, and over and over, “Power Will Turn Against You,” but the Wens come (chronologically) first. They wear the sun, and the phoenix. They stand triumphant, the brightest star in the sky, and they start thinking that means they are the sun, the source from which all other power flows, the unkillable generator of life. And so the sun turns scorching—there are too many suns in the sky, shoot them down or all life will burn—and the rest of the world snuffs them out, one by one (until one single sun is left, excuse me while I cry over A-Yuan; okay, we’re good).

Pretty blatant, in-your-face cautionary tale for a whole generation, right? Maybe even two generations? “Hey, look, those people over there, they tried to gather up all the power and they died horribly, maybe we should not do that.” Except none of them learn anything. Anything. They still all think it’s about who’s right, completely ignoring the fact that they’re all operating under a “might makes right” mentality, the lot of them (Especially Jin Guangshaun, of course).

Wei Wuxian starts out as a rising star—the child who came from nothing, but he has so much talent and he shines so bright that no one can ignore him. Even when they hate him, they can’t look away. (He’s also pretty much the only cultivator who regularly talks to the everyday people of the world as if they’re equals, but that’s a whole other thing.) He freely gives power away when he gives Jiang Cheng his golden core. It doesn’t define him, it’s just a tool, which has been very useful but which he can do without.

Honestly, I think if Wen Chao hadn’t found him and dropped him in the Burial Mounds he would have found something else to do. He’d likely stay with Jiang Cheng (who would have to know about him not having a core, once he found Wei Wuxian basically half-dead in that town, I don’t think Wei Wuxian was originally planning to hide that part once it was finished), and still be part of the Jiang sect and consult on tactics and do work that you don’t have to be a cultivator to do (which is a lot, really). He’d still have all the competent-gentleman-skills: archery, riding, calligraphy, etiquette and math, as well as all the general knowledge he’s collected from a truly rarefied education. He can’t use a cultivator’s sword, and he’ll never attain immortality, but there are plenty of other cultivators whose sword skills and quest for a longer lifespan are suspect. Maybe he’d still go on night hunts. Maybe he’d write excellent training manuals or mentor Jiang-sect kids. Maybe he’d make lots of talismans and just wave that in everyone’s faces, idk, it’s really hard to say how talismans work in this universe. Point is, I think he would’ve made things work in a less drastic way than what he ended up with, because at the time the power didn’t matter to him.

But instead Wen Chao does find him and does drop him into the Burial Mound, and whatever happens there (I really, really want to know what happens there), he comes out of it with TOO MUCH power. Power no one has ever seen before. It’s the only way he can survive there. He hoards power for good reasons, for his own survival and (later) to ensure the survival of others, but he is absolutely biting off more than he can actually deal with, and it immediately starts fucking up his life. He’s a supernova in the making. That bottomless source of power not based on his own physical limits + the Tiger Seal + his apparently endless well of traumatic life events means that he is absolutely going to collapse in on himself at some point. He loses reputation, and standing, and then people. He is almost universally reviled, with multiple actions both correctly and falsely attributed to his name. He knows it’s happening—Who can tell me what I’m supposed to do now?—he’s lost every reason he had for hoarding the power in the first place, he’s having uncontrolled explosions of power where thousands of people die, and so he tries to give the power back by destroying the seal so no one can have that power, but power doesn’t work that way: it has to go somewhere, and it goes through him in an event that people are still talking about over a decade later.

And yet. Does anyone learn anything? “Hey, that seal seems like a super dangerous tool there, maybe it should … not be used ever again? Be destroyed? It made that guy incredibly unstable and then he exploded over the whole cultivation world, maybe we should… not?”

No, of course not. (Aside from Lan Wangji, the Nie sect and Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji seems to have developed this knowledge early. Wei Wuxian learns the lesson; it goes hand-in-hand with his (novel) daydreams of leaving the life of a cultivator to be a farmer with Lan Wangji. I think Nie Mingjue knew it too, because the Nie sect has some themes going on with the damage power can do, but he didn’t get a chance to talk about it much. Nie Huaisang, in addition to Nie sect things, is very observant and doesn’t have strong ambition at all until he starts getting fucked with, so he has less to figure out on this front.)

Everyone else still thinks it was about the Wens, and “corruption” and that Wei Wuxian was just wrong, even though they were the ones you know… killing children and elderly people in a culture that supposedly values both quite highly. Power is just power, right? Nothing wrong with power, in fact, maybe we should expand that power even more, with a centralized system of control. Supervisor posts? No, no, these are watchtowers. They’re for your benefit too, I promise. Also blackmail, lets use lots of blackmail and some really deep dungeons, but it’s totally okay because it’s us doing it, right.

Jin Guanyao is Hou Yi, the archer who shot down the sun (that link again), and rose to become an imperial tyrant—whose cruelty led his wife to abandon him (I’ve read multiple versions of Hou Yi, but this one fits here) and cut short his quest for immortality. His whole life is about gathering power, and justifiably so given how aware he is of the precarious nature of his position for most of it. Anytime someone feels like it, they can cut him down with a single reference to his mother. It doesn’t matter what his talents are, or how clever or well-spoken he is. Everything he’s built up for himself can be taken away in an instant, because he’s the son of a prostitute and that means he doesn’t matter. This is not to say that he doesn’t deserve Nie Mingjue’s reprisal or Nie Huaisang’s revenge, of course. He absolutely does horrific, terrible things every step of the way, and for entirely selfish reasons. But he’s Wie Wuxian’s closest foil: here’s what happens when someone of merit, rather than bloodline, seeks power: they’re creative, and innovative, and oh boy are they going to shake the world. This is what happens when cruelty and manipulation take the place of love and affection in a child’s life: each perpetuates itself on a larger scale—I will kill even those closest to me vs. I will die to protect a stranger. This is how the quest for power plays out when the motivation is selfishness, rather than selflessness. In the end, both are inherently flawed, because the power itself is the root of the problem.

Unlike Wei Wuxian, Jin Guanyao holds onto his power until the very last second. Literally, any scrap, even just Lan Xichen’s affection for him. His fall is fast, and guttering—so fast that it’s over before most of the world even knows it’s started. He’s a meteorite, his origins worse than obscure, growing ever brighter in the sky until he crashes to earth, leaving devastation in his wake. And I mean that literally, the power-structure of the world is shattered by the dual events of his exposure and his death. It’s so completely broken that in their rush to consolidate power once more, the person all these leaders turn to is Lan Wangji, who just happens to be the most reputable guy still standing at the end.

So, let’s look at Hanguang-jun, the Light-Bearer.

Lan Wangji is the lodestar. He’s a constant that rarely, if ever, wavers in his convictions, and for the purpose of the plot he’s effectively the example of what an “ideal” cultivator should be (I know other people have written about LWJ and the Confucian ideal, especially @rustycol so I’m not going far into that here). He’s arguably the most successful character in the canon. He has both bloodline and merit working in his favor, and he’s pretty much the most respected cultivator in the world by the time he’s 35 (ages in this canon are a mess). He can disobey or even betray his clan and not be uprooted, which is a luxury literally no one else has (yes, he’s punished, yes, there are consequences, but he attacked 33 elders and didn’t get kicked out or killed! He’s still respected and part of the clan! Don’t tell me that’s not because he’s the clan leader’s bloodline—there are a lot of things that can be said about LWJ and his clan and morality but they’re for yet another post).

The protagonist thinks highly of him. The next generation looks up to him, pretty much universally. He is respected even by people who don’t like him, and has almost zero actual enemies (Su She isn’t even a luminary in this meta analogy, Su She is a dude with a lantern trying to blame the stars for the fact that he can’t fly). Lan Wangji is the guiding light that goes into dark places where chaos reigns and brings clarity, and calm, and (often unforgiving) justice. He doesn’t seek power, and he doesn’t hoard it. In the novel, the only prize he takes away from Jin Guanyao’s fall is the certain knowledge of Wei Wuxian’s love. He doesn’t want anything else, and that’s why he gets to walk off into the sunset with the love of his life and keep his peerless reputation, even in a culture as steeped in homophobia as the novel’s world. Obviously the drama has a different ending, but I think the point still stands: Lan Wangji is so well-respected and utterly reliable that I doubt anyone even thinks twice about offering him the position of Chief Cultivator. Who else could they choose, shocked and appalled as they are in Jun Guanyao’s wake, but the star that never moves no matter how the heavens turn?

It’s been a rough 15 years. Between Lan Wangji, Nie Huaisang and that last Wen child, maybe they’ll finally get that lesson about hoarding power to stick in a few more people’s minds. We can only hope.

[fytheuntamed]

❄️ Untamed Winter Fest 2019 ❄️ // Day (3/31) // Goodwill

“You even brought my share! Thank you, Lady Jiang!”