#fem!ranwan

fem + modern!ranwan

I loved this one! I was giggling every five minutes, thank you sm for your beautiful mind<3 I hope you enjoy this one!

-

Mo Ran’s eyes fought to open against the stickiness of sleep. A moment later, she was sorry she had wasted her efforts, her gritty eyes immediately assaulted by the blindingly bright light. Didn’t she have curtains in her room she drew every night? And what was with the cloying smell of antiseptic in the air?

A moment after that, Mo Ran was no longer sorry. In fact, her eyes opened as wide as they could - she swore she would never blink again. Not if it meant missing a second of the breathtaking beauty sat by her bedside. 

Mo Ran asked without thinking, her voice hazy like a dream, “Am I in heaven?”

Amber, phoenix eyes darted up to look at her then, and Mo Ran’s breath snagged almost painfully in her throat. Oh. Oh, she was not only beautiful - she was divinity incarnate. Caught off guard, the woman’s expression was incomparably soft, soft as a spring breeze and gentle, overwhelmingly so, just like the pale morning light dappling her elegant features.

Then, Mo Ran’s question registered, and those petal-pink lips quirked down into a frown. 

“What?”

“Because you’re a goddess,” Mo Ran murmured, skinned so raw by this woman’s beauty that she had no choice but to be honest. “Or did you come down to lead me there yourself?”

The woman cocked her head, her ponytail swishing with the movement. Mo Ran wanted to know what it felt like to tug, to hold it wrapped around her hand.

“....Mo Ran?”

Mo Ran’s heart thumped almost painfully against her breastbone. “You know my name?”

“Mn,” the woman’s eyebrows dipped, a look of quiet but clear confusion write plain as day on her visage. Mo Ran hadn’t the mind to question it - she hadn’t the mind for much of anything. That vernal visage had ensnared her, unraveled her.   

“What’s yours?”

“Chu Wanning?” Her eyes crinkled at the corners, a sight that drew Mo Ran’s enraptured eyes. 

“Wanning,” Mo Ran breathed out the name as if it were worship. “It suits you. You know, I always hoped my wife would have a beautiful name like that. Chu Wanning. It must be fate.”

“Are you thirsty?” Chu Wanning asked then, disregarding Mo Ran’s declaration. She proffered a paper cup of water. “Does your head hurt?”

Mo Ran took the water, because her throat was dry, and not only because of the beauty by her bedside. Her head also kind of hurt, too. But these matters were ultimately unimportant in the face of the question burning on the tip of her tongue. 

Mo Ran had to ask, “Look, I know we haven’t known each other for very long, and maybe it’s crazy, but - but I like you, okay? You’re so beautiful, and you have such a gentle face, and you have such a soft voice and you brought me water and fuck you have the nicest fingers….”

Mo Ran’s breath hitched as the back of Chu Wanning’s hand touched her forehead, and the rest of her question poured from her lips like the reawakening of a river breaking free of the winter’s ice that had encased it. 

“Wanning, will you marry me?”

Chu Wanning slowly shook her head and Mo Ran’s heart sank, sinking further and further before finally hitting cold, hard rock bottom as the beautiful, ethereal woman held up her left hand, her ring finger already claimed.

“What?” Of course, someone as elegant and refined and charming as Chu Wanning would be married. Who wouldn’t want to spend the rest of their life by her side? Mo Ran’s dream of two minutes had been shattered, but she refused to believe this wasn’t salvageable. “So? I’ll bet they aren’t as good as me. Wait - do you have a husband, or a wife?” Mo Ran had to be sure before she made her argument.

Chu Wanning tucked a stray strand of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear. “I have a wife.”

“Pfft, and where is she? She left you all alone? She sounds like a real bitch. Wanning, if you were mine, I would never leave you alone. To part with you for even a single moment would feel like an agonizing eternity. I wouldn’t be able to bear such a separation - not from the one who holds my heart.”

Chu Wanning looked away, her rosy cheeks darkening sanguine. 

“Mo Ran…..”

“No, really, hear me out!” If Mo Ran wasn’t connected to a bunch of wires and also feeling dangerously light-headed, she would have gone down onto her knees to beg, that's how desperate she was for this woman. “Um, can she cook?”

“She can.”

Mo Ran scoffed. “I’ll bet I’m way better at it than her. I could cook you anything. Just say the word and it’s yours.”

Chu Wanning cocked her head, “What if I only like very mild dishes?”

“Baby, there won’t be a chili pepper in sight,” Mo Ran said earnestly. “I’m prepared to fight for you, you know. Oh! Can she fight? I have muscles. I could totally take her.”

“My wife is very strong,” Chu Wanning said solemnly. “She’s a peerless zongshi who has fought countless monsters and evil spirits.”

“I’m sure I could still kick her ass,” Mo Ran said with unearned confidence, considering she was currently laid up in a hospital bed because of an apparent illness she hadn’t even thought to ask about, yet. “I’d do it, if it meant I had a chance to hold your heart.”

Chu Wanning shook her head, that mesmerizing ponytail, while clearly disheveled, still somehow looking as soft as silk. “Ridiculous.”

“It’s really not!” Mo Ran’s voice broke as she folded her hands in prayer. Her heart was beating a painful beat, thrashing where it was kept trapped inside its cage of bone, held back from the one whose careful, safe hands it desired. “Wanning, I feel we’re meant to be together. Don’t you feel the same?”

“I’m sorry,” Chu Wanning said, dark lashes turning down as she pursed her lips. “But I love my wife,” she added in a mere whisper, her voice warm with love. “More than anything.”

Mo Ran could practically hear the exact moment her heart finally shattered, irrevocably. That was it, then. Such love, spoken with such deep, aching affection….

How could Mo Ran compete?

“Then…just stay with me. Please. Even - even if you love your wife, promise I can still stay by your side?”

Chu Wanning looked stricken, and Mo Ran hated that she’d been the one to put that look on her face. She’d kiss it away, if she could. But before she could apologize, or even hope to attempt to remedy such a seemingly hopeless situation, a cursory knock sounded before a doctor strode into the room. Mo Ran glared at the intruder, who looked steadily back, entirely nonplussed.

“Good. You’re awake. How are you feeling?” The doctor asked, though he didn’t seem to care either way. Chu Wanning’s glance flicked briefly towards the doctor, before seemingly tugged back by Mo Ran. 

“She seems to have….gaps in her memory.”

“Well, that’s to be expected,” he nodded. “It should only last a few hours. A day, at most. The qi deviation she suffered was relatively mild, as far as these things go. You’re lucky.”

Qi deviation? Mo Ran did vaguely remember flashes of light tearing through her vision, the feeling of fire coursing through her veins before it all disintegrated into a perfect, pitch black….

“Remember, when she’s discharged she’s not allowed to operate any heavy machinery or sign any legally binding documents for at least the next 48 hours. I recommend medicine, some hot tea and nourishing, mild food, and lots of rest.” The doctor fixed Mo Ran with a stern, no-nonsense look. “I trust you’ll allow your wife to take care of you?”

Wife? Mo Ran was married too? But she didn’t want any wife that wasn’t Chu Wanning! Was she going to have to get divorced now? She’d have to! And she very well should! After all, it wasn’t her wife who had waited steadfastly by her bedside, but an angel dressed in all white-

Mo Ran suddenly realized the doctor had gestured to Chu Wanning after these words were spoken. And it was only then Mo Ran realized Chu Wanning wasn’t holding back tears, but laughter. 

“Dummy,” Chu Wanning scoffed as Mo Ran turned her wide eyes onto her, but she was smiling, a soft, almost imperceptible, but breathtaking thing. “Look at your own hand.”

Mo Ran’s eyes darted down and widened impossibly further as the light caught on the matching band adorning her finger, the diamond glistening like a star. That light could rival the one that had just pierced the cracks running up and down her heart, filling her body with a radiant joy. 

“I’m married!” Mo Ran gasped, elation coursing through her veins like honey, warm and rich and syrupy-sweet. “I’m married to the most beautiful woman in the world!”

And Chu Wanning laughed, a soft, sweet sound that was perhaps the most beautiful sound to be found in all of the universe. That laugh left Mo Ran grasping for her, eager to pull this angelic creature into her arms to hold onto her, forever. To never forget her ever again. 

“That’s the happiest I’ve ever seen someone after a qi deviation,” the doctor muttered. Mo Ran paid him no mind, lavishing Chu Wanning’s face with tiny, greedy kisses, ignoring her half-hearted protests and the doctor’s scoffs about ‘newlyweds’ as he beat a hasty retreat from the room. 

“I’d still do anything to make you mine,” Mo Ran whispered against Chu Wanning’s trembling lips, lashes catching on her wife’s, their noses pressed together. “Even if it meant kicking my own ass.”

“Silly, that’s what you are,” Chu Wanning murmured fondly, pulling away to flick Mo Ran on the nose. “Don’t scare me like that again.”

thank you sm for another amazing request! I hope you enjoy<3 this one was strange? cathartic? for me to write, maybe because I'm sick at the moment....also guardian angel cwn, my beloved🥺

(I wrote the ending/ilnness as sort of ambiguous, so any and all interpretations are welcome!)

-

Mo Ran couldn’t stop coughing. 

Mo Ran was sick and she couldn’t get better. 

This malady sat inside of her chest, an unresectable tumor, festering and raw. It spread through her veins like morphine, chilling and ruinous. It hung in her skull, sat inside heavy and thick and inescapable, consuming her every thought and filling her head with dark, viscous pain. 

So many times it had seemed as if she would die, only for inexplicably a lifesaving, last breath to be pushed into her lungs, and another and another.

But the worst part was the solitude. Mo Ran, for as long as she could remember, had been utterly, achingly alone. 

In the midst of fever and delirium, a figure appeared. Mo Ran’s heart, for a moment, stilled, like it had so many times before. But this time, instead of resuming its feeble, fragile beat, it began to pound rapturously, the sound riotous through her ears. 

Mo Ran had never seen an angel before.

Because surely, that is what this person must be. She’s gorgeous. Divine. Resplendent in her pristine, pure white robes, with a halo of pure gold alight above her head, while radiant, ethereal light seemingly coming from heaven itself bleeds from her every pore. 

Entranced, Mo Ran watches as the woman grows closer, refusing to blink, despite how her eyes stung against the sterile air. Her body sang for a summer breeze and the golden light of sunshine, protesting that decay it suffered under these buzzing fluorescents. 

Phoenix eyes enveloped her in their gaze. Mo Ran felt unspeakably warm, held inside of those deep, liquid amber pools that softened with pain as another bout of coughs wracked her sickly form. 

“I’m sorry you are in so much pain,” the angel murmured, brushing a cool hand against Mo Ran’s sweat-damp forehead. “I have done what I can to protect you. To heal you.”

The way this angel spoke, with a voice as lulling as a lullaby, made it clear to Mo Ran that this being had been watching over her for a long, long time. Protecting her. Saving her. 

“Thank you,” Mo Ran rasped, then noticing the wings that fluttered softly behind the angel. They were nearly as tall as the woman herself, white and glistening with tiny sparkles, as if a constellation had been used as thread. Mo Ran bet if she had the strength to reach out and touch, they would feel as soft as down. 

“No need,” the angel shook her head. “It is my duty.”

An indescribable, honey-like warmth dripped over Mo Ran’s heart, so foreign, yet wholly welcome, a comforting reprieve from the agony she was so used to illness inflicting on the poor organ. 

“You would only do such a thing,” Mo Ran whispered. “If you were a kind person at heart.”

The angel’s cheeks pinkened as she ducked her head, obviously embarrassed and flustered. Mo Ran was gripped by a fondness the likes of which she had never known before. 

Suddenly, a name made itself known to her, crystallizing inside of her mind.

Chu Wanning.

Her guardian angel. 

She had never really been alone, had she?

“Stay with me, for a while?” Mo Ran asked. “It’s lonely here.”

Chu Wanning’s expression gentled impossibly further, as she took Mo Ran’s outstretched hand. “Alright.”

Blood coagulated in her throat. The vines of this sickness spread through her but the angel’s hand grounded Mo Ran, reminding her of the solace that awaited on the other side. 

“Even if you pass over,” Chu Wanning murmured, as the edges of Mo Ran’s vision began to blacken and blur. “I will be there to lead you toward the light.”

Mo Ran hummed, letting her eyes fall closed. 

FEM RANWAN!!! oh my goodness, thank you for feeding me😭🥺 I had so, so much fun with this prompt, it was such a delight to write! I hope you enjoy<3

-

“Sit still A-Ning,” her Shizun reprimands - though, can it be called a reprimand, when her voice so clearly carries a smile? “Aiyah, you’re so squirmy. This braid is going to be all crooked!”

“Sorry, Shizun,” Chu Wanning mutters, hanging her head. She’s genuinely abashed. It’s such a simple task, to sit still. It’s a luxury, to be asked to sit still so her Shizun can not only brush but braid her hair. Chu Wanning should be basking in this attention, this open, heart-rending show of affection. Instead, she sits as if on pins and needles.

“Don’t sound too sorry,” Mo Ran says, and it is only by biting her tongue that Chu Wanning manages to suppress a flinch at the feel of Mo Ran’s fingernails lightly scratching along her nape. “I’m your Shizun, A-Ning, what can’t I do? Ah, squirm all you want. This’ll still be the best braid anyone’s ever put in your hair, you’ll see.”

Of course it will, Chu Wanning thinks, but does not say. Because your hands put it there. 

“In fact, maybe it would be fun. A new sort of challenge for this senior to conquer….” Mo Ran muses, feather-light fingertips carefully brushing a strand of inky hair past Chu Wanning’s ear to weave into the braid, eliciting a shiver that Mo Ran, thankfully, seems to miss. “I’ll bet I could give you the best braid while blindfolded, while riding my sword. How about it?”

Chu Wanning blanches. The sudden anxiety racing through her chest is abated only by the feeling of deft, sure fingers combing carefully through the silk of her hair. 

“You’re joking,” Chu Wanning says, in the flattest voice known to mankind. 

Mo Ran sounds worryingly serious as she laments, “So, you’re not ready for something quite that adventurous yet. It’s okay, maybe one day.”

Chu Wanning wants to tell her Shizun that day will never come. She belongs on the ground and she’d like to stay there, thank you very much. Her qinggong is a much swifter means of travel than sword flying, anyway. 

But just as Chu Wanning opens her mouth to tell her Shizun so, a brush glides through her hair, the feeling so soft and soothing and foreign Chu Wanning’s mouth clamps shut in fear of any damning noises slipping out. Then fingers come to replace the brush, painstakingly gentle as they unwork any leftover knots. Chu Wanning very nearly leans back into her Shizun’s touch, seeking that bright, burning warmth as a balm to her perpetual chill.

Before long, Chu Wanning is led into a pleasant trance. Her thoughts dissipated like mist. It’s - easy, to follow the rhythm of her Shizun’s fingers combing through her hair, weaving the strands into a pretty plait. It’s easy, to believe her Shizun could make her beautiful, even if only a part of her. Mo Ran can do anything, if she sets her mind to it. Chu Wanning’s mind latches onto the comfort of that surety, for a moment, eyes fluttering shut as the gentle pressure of hair being artfully arranged encourages her to tip her head back, just a little. Not too much-

“I’ve got it!” Mo Ran’s sudden excitement jars Chu Wanning back to the present. “Oh, A-Ning, you’re going to love it. I’m a genius.”

“What?”

In answer, a soft scarlet light pulses behind Chu Wanning, painting their shadows in stark lines against the floor. 

“Shizun?” Chu Wanning meant to turn her head, but a pair of warm fingertips pinched her chin, turning her face back around.

“Not yet! I’ll show you when it’s all done. Don’t spoil the surprise, now,” Chu Wanning’s cheeks flamed and her lip swelled under her teeth as Mo Ran leaned forward and whispered, breath caressing the back of her exposed neck. “Be good for Shizun, A-Ning.”

Oh, Mo Ran was trying to kill her. 

Chu Wanning sat patiently - as patiently as she could, in such harrowing circumstances - more or less having guessed what Mo Ran was doing, but not wanting to spoil the woman’s fun.

“Pretty,” Mo Ran murmured, a warm hand smoothing over Chu Wanning’s head. Chu Wanning swallowed thickly. “Very pretty. But it still needs something….A-Ning, would you give Shizun your hand?”

Chu Wanning reacted as rationally as she could, by acting like a cat just sprayed with water. “Why?” She asked, cautious, her fingers already flexing, already lost in the fantasy of Mo Ran’s fingers entwined with her own-

“Ah, I just wanted to borrow a few of your haitang blossoms! Is that alright?”

Chu Wanning frowned, annoyed with herself and her idle daydreams, but she did feel the tension that had threatened to paralyze just seconds earlier slowly leaving her in waves. She hummed in assent, holding her palm up, delicately spinning out a few glistening, golden haitang blossoms for Mo Ran to nestle into her hair. 

“All done! Do you want to see, A-Ning?”

“Mn,” Chu Wanning meant to stand up herself but, in her excitement, Mo Ran’s fingers wrapped themselves around her wrist as she helped Chu Wanning to her feet, all but dragging her over to the mirror. Chu Wanning swallowed what felt like a very undignified squeak as Mo Ran spun her around.

“Okay, on the count of three you can open your eyes and see for yourself what a good job your Shizun’s done, alright?”

“Mn.”

“But if you don’t like it, be honest, alright?”

“Okay.”

“I’m serious! I can take it, A-Ning, you don’t have to spare my feelings. Constructive criticism is conductive in the pursuit of perfection-”

“Shizun,” Chu Wanning interrupted, which she ever normally did. Ever. But she was well-aware of Mo Ran’s tendency to ramble when she was nervous, and there was no need to be, really. Chu Wanning would love it. 

She loved everything Mo Ran gave her. 

“Okay,” Mo Ran blew out a long breath and, behind her closed eyelids, Chu Wanning could practically see Mo Ran wringing her hands. “One, two, three….”

Chu Wanning’s eyes slowly opened as she turned, guided by Mo Ran’s gentle hands. In the low light, dappled crimson and gold, Chu Wanning saw herself, her face draped in lacy shadows cast by the intertwined light of her blossoms and Mo Ran’s butterflies, woven into the intricate tapestry of her inky hair. 

“It’s - beautiful,” Chu Wanning whispered. She hadn’t meant to, but if she’d spoken any louder, she’d worried her voice would break. She placed a careful, reverent hand atop her braid. “Thank you, Shizun.”

The scarlet glow of the butterflies’ wings softly fluttering danced across Mo Ran’s cheeks. 

“You don’t have to thank me,” Mo Ran murmured, scratching her head as she looked away. “What is a painter without a beautiful subject? You’re the art, A-Ning.”

YESSSS thank you for this prompt! I've always thought ranwan was a couple that fit so seamlessly into timeless fairytales :3

-

Chu Wanning didn’t know what to do.

Her mind was a senseless whirl of panic. She had tried everything. Chu Wanning had scoured through every last book in her library, cover to cover, and still, her hands were empty. And shaking. She had all but ravaged Tanlang Elder’s office, cleaning every last drawer of priceless elixirs and potions and pills, had made the man try every trick in the book and make up a few of his own, and still, it was useless. Mo Ran would not wake up. 

Mo Ran lie there, her body still, cool to the touch, her countenance stone-cold and serene. The dark, inky strands of her hair spread out across her pillow, haloing her head. It was all so…peaceful, in the worst kind of way. It was such an ugly contrast to Mo Ran’s sun-bright smiles and incandescent laughter, her dancing, mischievous eyes, dark and alluring, violet-tinged under the moonlight. 

Chu Wanning refused to give up. She set off to journey to the farthest corners of the world in search of a cure. If that was what it took to bring Mo Ran back to life - bring Mo Ran back to her - no distance was impossible. Chu Wanning would find a way up to the moon, somehow, if that was what it would take.

For once, it had been a young Mo Ran earnestly entreating Shizun, pay attention to me, please.

Now it was Chu Wanning’s turn to get onto her knees and hold Mo Ran’s icy hand against her tear-stricken cheek, desperately pleading until she had gone hoarse, Mo Ran, wake up. Look at me, please. 

She left no stone unturned, no path unexplored. Chu Wanning braved deserts and frozen wastelands, storms and desolate droughts. She traveled through dark woods and villages that were all but abandoned, populated only by the sounds of mourning ghosts’ wails. She felt herself paling a shade closer to those lost spectors each and every day. 

But each precious herb and rare spirit stone, every ancient artifact and magical spell, all of the doctors in the land - none of these things could bring Mo Ran back to her. Her disciple lay on her bed, stuck in stasis, hands clasped neatly over the shallow rise and fall of her chest. 

Chu Wanning’s hope waned like the moon. Unlike the moon, however, it never waxed, never regained its light.

In this fashion, five years passed. 

Most anyone else would have long ago given up. They would have lit incense for Mo Ran and offered their blessings, but ultimately, their lives would still go on, time like a raging, unceasing river. But not Chu Wanning. 

Chu Wanning’s head was pillowed on Mo Ran’s shoulder, the tears that had fallen long go dried, leaving her hollowed-out and aching. She was something worse than numb. 

It was her fault. No one else thought so, but Chu Wanning knew that it was. If she had been quicker, stronger, smarter, better - if she could have stopped Mo Ran before that yao’s curse befell her, if it could have been her soul caught in eternal slumber instead - Chu Wanning wouldn’t hesitate to rewrite the past, to go back and change their fates so that it was her lying supine on this bed instead. 

The worst part? The beast had been eliminated. And the curse still hadn’t broken.

Chu Wanning fiercely refused to believe in absolutes, but under a sky that was strangely starless, she felt something inside of her crumble, falling to dust. 

A single tear slipped from her eye, trailing down the bridge of her nose, becoming caught on the wound she had bit into her lip. Chu Wanning choked back a wretched sob, gazing at Mo Ran - this shadow of Mo Ran, her disciple, a girl she had once loved.

“Won’t you wake up?” Chu Wanning whispered, her voice ragged and lovelorn. Mo ran’s lashes didn’t so much as flutter. Caught in the devastating throes of this unending delour, with no clear destination in sight, a trembling Chu Wanning leaned down, her chapped, bloody lips pressing against Mo Ran’s, bloodless and smooth. 

A twin pair of birds passed overhead, their caws lost to the whispering wind.

And then, suddenly, a gentle hand reached up to cup Chu Wanning’s cheek. 

“Shizun, don’t cry.”

Chu Wanning reeled back, more crystalline tears dripping down her cheeks. Her heart thumped against her ribs, painful and unsure. Could she believe it? Could she believe in the half-lidded, hazy eyes gazing up at her, flecked with dozens of violet, glittering stars? What if it was all just a dream.

But then another hand, warm and made of flesh and blood, laid against her other cheek, carefully drawing her face closer to Mo Ran’s, where a slow grin was beginning to break like the rising of the morning sun.

“Wanning, look at me,” Mo Ran repeated, her voice heaven’s call. “I’m here.”