Wei Ying, Tonight, I dreamed about finding you, cold and broken. I should have been with you in your final hours. I will follow soon. Lan Zhan
The ink had faded a bit with the repeated creasing of the paper, clearly opened and closed over and over. He could feel his brow creasing a bit as he took the paper to his desk, ground the ink, and flipped the letter to its back side.
In neat little rows were tallies, single lines, all across the page, top to bottom, left to right. He pulled a second paper free, noting the lines again, a third, a fourth, and finally, a fifth that was mostly unmarked. He added a single tally, then hesitated for a breath before folding each sheet back up, returning them to the book, and setting the book back on the shelf.
Five months after their lives started to become domestic and perfect, Lan Wangji starts having the same nightmare he had for thirteen years.
Post-Canon MDZS Fanfiction, it’s Wangxian so of course they are fucking. Mostly just… dealing with thirteen years of trauma because poor Lan Wangji. And Wei Wuxian needs everything explained to him. Painfully explained to him.
Mind the tags and read it on AO3
Not gonna lie, I started seeing the CUTEST anime boy on my twitter timeline earlier this year and eventually tracked it down to the animated telling of Mo Dao Xu Shi, which…
Look, that anime was consumed in two days. I was hooked.
Then I made the mistake of finding the fan translation of the novel. Consumed. I watched The Untamed. I literally cannot get enough of this fucking story because it yanks on my heart in every which way.
Here’s some horrible domestic tooth rotting fluff because I’m writing the smut but the smut needs to simmer like pork rib and lotus root soup. Wouldn’t want there not to be enough seasoning, would you?
Lan WanJi barely hears his own footsteps as he drags himself slowly across the familiar path. His ears are ringing, the whole world just a buzz, a hiss, the endless sting of his wounds screaming out at him. Screaming at him that he was wrong. That this is wrong.
Closing his eyes he can dull the buzzing just a bit, but the only thing that replaces the noise is his brother’s voice. Lan XiChen had come to dress his wounds, he whispered in his most gentle of voices.
“Wanji… they raided the burial mounds. Wei WuXian… Young Master Wei is gone.”
Continue reading “Nightmares”