#only-1-a

"I might be a shit witch, but even I know that you're not meant to set traps to snag a familiar, yeah?"

[from here]

A lifetime goes by before Lan Wangji walks through that door again.

There is less recognition in his eyes this time, but Wei Wuxian had expected it. With every lifetime, every reincarnation he goes through without Wei Wuxian, he will remember a little less. The time in which he remains tethered to this world in search of him will shorten; the chances of his memories returning will grow slimmer and slimmer, until eventually he won’t remember him at all.

He tells himself it’s fine, it’s better this way.

This way, he will hurt a little less, and pass on a little quicker. After a few lifetimes, he’ll take the offered bowl without hesitation and pass on without lingering. He’ll forget the burden of his regrets, forget Wei Wuxian and that first lifetime they’d spent together, until he is just another soul passing through this little shop on his way to the next life, and Wei Wuxian is just the shopkeeper who greets him.

It’s fine. It’s better this way.

He had spent decades after his first death alone, lingering on and on and on until the memories of his life had been buried under dust and cobwebs and nothingness. It is his punishment for the crimes he had committed in life, to help those who linger pass on while he himself remains tethered to this world by regrets he can’t undo. By the time Lan Wangji had first walked into his shop, he no longer remembered him, and they’d spent centuries side-by-side as customer and shopkeeper, cordial strangers and nothing more.

Except.

Now that Wei Wuxian remembers, he cannot forget.

He doesn’t count on how much his newly reawakened heart would ache at the sight of Lan Wangji, hadn’t realised how much it would hurt when he looks into that most beloved face and finds no trace of recognition. But it’s worse when he does remember, and he has to endure the look of hurt and betrayal and horror in those amber eyes in those moments before the broth takes effect, so he is careful never to do anything that would remind him.

It goes on like this, lifetime and after lifetime, until he loses count.

The pain doesn’t fade.

Lan Wangji’s memory does.

He tells himself it’s fine, it’s better this way.

One thousand lifetimes later, the door opens again.

The pain never lessens, but it does get easier. He’s had hundreds of lifetimes to practice, after all. Wei Wuxian steels himself, plasters a smile to his face—

“Wei Ying.”

He freezes.

That can’t be right.

He must have misheard.

“Wei Ying.” Again. Followed by a sigh. “Turn around, please.”

But his feet are rooted to the floor. The world around him swims in and out of focus, until he realises he’s not breathing; the first gasp of air burns in his lungs. That can’t be right. He is not newly dead—he has not felt physical sensations for centuries, before his body learned it couldn’t—

What is happening?

“Wei Ying.” A hitched breath. "Please.”

He squeezes his eyes shut.

“I can’t,” he whispers. His voice wavers, breaks. “I can’t.”

Footsteps circle around the counter before he realises what’s happening, and he starts when the weight of a hand lands on his shoulder, guiding him around. 

“Wei Ying, look at me,” Lan Wangji says softly, “please.”

If he opens his eyes and Lan Wangji isn’t there—if he doesn’t recognise him—if this is all a lie—

—he doesn’t know if he can survive it, this time.

He stifles a sob and shakes his head.

“This isn’t real,” he says. “This isn’t real. This isn’t—”

“It is.” Hands cup his face, tilt his head up until he feels a warm breath ghosting over the bridge of his nose. “It is. Wei Ying, I promise you. Open your eyes. I’m here.”

He opens his eyes.

Lan Wangji is smiling, his amber eyes warm and soft and fond—he stifles another sob and clutches at the hands on his face desperately. 

“Lan Zhan,” he chokes through the lump in his throat. “How is—how did you—what’s going on?”

Thumbs brush away the tears on his cheeks gently.

“It’s done,” Lan Wangji tells him. “It’s over.”

“What—oh,” he trails off, eyes wide. “The punishment—?”

Lan Wangji nods and presses their foreheads together with a shuddering sigh.

“Yes,” he murmurs into the scant space between them. “One thousand lifetimes. That was what they had decreed. This was the final one.”

Strong arms come around him as his legs crumple, catching him, crushing him tight to Lan Wangji’s chest. He buries his face in Lan Wangji’s shoulder, his hands twisting in his shirt as he sobs, and sobs, and sobs—

It’s over.

It’s over.

“I’m sorry,” he cries, “Lan Zhan, I—”

Lan Wangji kisses him.

His lips are soft, but the kiss is not—Wei Wuxian gasps, surprised, and Lan Wangji takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his mouth hot and insistent against his. It is unlike anything Wei Wuxian has ever experienced before, and he surrenders himself to it, kissing him back, matching his passion and desperation with equal fervour. His body sings beneath Lan Wangji’s hands. He feels alive.

It lasts only seconds before Lan Wangji pulls away again, pressing his face into Wei Wuxian’s neck.

“That first time,” he whispers. “You tricked me into drinking the Mengpo-tang, made me think that you would be coming with me—“

“I’m sorry,” Wei Wuxian says again. “I won’t do it again. I’m sorry—”

Lan Wangji’s breath hitches against his ear; the arms around him tighten, squeezing the air from his lungs.

“No,” he whispers fiercely. “No, you don’t need to—Wei Ying—! You have nothing—nothing to apologise for. I’m the one who should apologise. I left you—”

“No.” He pulls back and takes Lan Wangji’s face between his hands—still hiccuping, sniffling, weeping—but he looks determinedly into his eyes. “It was my fault. All of it. You shouldn’t have had to bear any of it. It was my fault. I’m—”

Lan Wangji kisses him again. It’s softer this time, lingering, tender.

“Don’t,” he murmurs against his lips. “No more apologies.”

“Alright,” Wei Wuxian agrees, chuckling wetly. “No more apologies.”

He allows Lan Wangji to help him to his feet, and turns to the counter. Two bowls sit there now, the broth still hot, ready to drink. They share a long look before Lan Wangji takes both, and hands one to him. Wei Wuxian looks down at the bowl and hesitates.

“I’ve watched so many people drink this and didn’t really think much of it,” he muses. “I don’t think I really understood the significance of it until now.”

Lan Wangji hums.

“Are you afraid?” he asks. Wei Wuxian chuckles.

“Terrified,” he admits. He smiles up at Lan Wangji, who smiles back softly. “At least this time, we’ll finally get our second chance.”

“Mm,” Lan Wangji agrees, caressing his cheek with his free hand. “Together.”

Wei Wuxian leans in to press a lingering kiss to his lips.

“I promise I will come and find you in our next life,” he murmurs. Lan Wangji’s breath catches. “Are you ready?”

—

He looks up, startled, when the door slams open.

There is a boy standing in the doorway, panting as if he had just run a marathon, his uniform askew and long hair falling out of its red ribbon. He stares. Something stirs deep within his chest—a sense of familiarity, like he’s seen him somewhere before.

“Hi, sorry I’m late! This is the student council room, right?” The boy hurries forward, trying in vain to fix his uniform and smooth down his hair. He holds out a hand with a grin. “I’m Wei Ying, Wei Wuxian! Nice to meet you!”

His smiling is blindingly bright. It sears itself into his soul.

He takes the hand.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Wangji,” he replies. “Nice to meet you, Wei Ying.”

Notes:

Mengpo-tang (孟婆汤) - Mengpo (孟婆) is the gatekeeper to the underworld, who takes the form of an elderly lady (usually). She brews the soup that dead people drink to forget their past life so they can reincarnate again.

[READ ON AO3]

I’ve been thinking about doing self shoots. Any advice?

Thought I’d make a separate post for this! I’m sure others might do things differently, but here are my main considerations.

Having a tripod is a must. Even if you’re using just a phone, there are inexpensive tripods for phones. A small one you need to set on a table can still let you be hands-free and provide more angle options.

Many advanced digital cameras have remote control options, and I believe most phones nowadays have a voice command option for the shutter. Check all options that can let you shoot from your pose before relying on the classic 10-sec timer while you walk back and forth.

Set up your area + camera before wearing cosplay! Try to minimize the amount of time you are in makeup or a possibly uncomfortable outfit. For the set above I moved sofas and lamps around at home, and while Yu’s outfit isn’t too warm, it’s still better to do any furniture moving beforehand to keep your costume free from unnecessary dirt or wrinkles, and not look sweaty or uncomfortable in your pictures.

Adding on to the above, if you’re using an actual camera, you can get settings adjusted beforehand. If you have another human in your household you can ask them to step into your planned shot for you to test pictures or check lighting. I didn’t have anyone with me so I did more adjusting while shooting myself.

Having large backdrops (which I don’t atm) can help for full-body shots, but it depends how much you care about how much home is showing. Of course “any background can be Photoshopped out” but there’s a large consideration of how time consuming and impractical it can be, and how unnatural it can look if you don’t have a good starting point. I’m personally not a fan of background editing without a green screen or a solid background.

Portrait shots are easier to do without backdrops, since even a small corner of your home can be much less conspicuous. (Yu’s photoset was in front of curtains, and Samatoki’s in front of backyard door and step.)

jsfklajflsalkfjal COSPLAYS ARE TOTALLY ALLOWED.

22. if you could see any concert tonight what would you choose?

Hopefully alone or like…with only 4 people in the whole venue? Bc I ain't getting Covid for any concert tbh