A Little bit of everything...

an unhelpful guide to lan wangji’s emotions

© 蜜粽蘸肉汤

210520 YIBO-OFFICIAL weibo update 

xue yang: weak, i sleep with a sword

wei wuxian: you’re both pathetic

xue yang: oh yeah? what do u sleep with

Wang Yibo🦁💚

Golden Eagle Awards Outfit

(brief author’s note: please reblog, since that’s how we get prompts for future ficlets!)

Wei Wuxian is not jealous.

Wei Wuxian is not jealous.

Being jealous of the pretty, doe-eyed girl from Zhoushang Zhang flirting with Lan Zhan would make no sense, since as Lan Zhan’s best friend, Wei Wuxian ought to be delighted by the prospect of his zhiji falling in love with an eligible maiden.

The fact that the aforementioned zhiji is his husband does not matter at all.

They are friends first and foremost, and two men, besides; and Wei Wuxian has always known that an honorable marriage between cultivators was for lasting companionship and love, begetting and bearing children, and dual cultivation to improve the strength and stability of the couple’s spiritual energy. The marriage between him and Lan Zhan is nothing but a marriage of convenience, one doomed to remain barren forever, and Wei Wuxian can’t cultivate, either--so how could he be jealous, when every word Zhang-xiaojie says to Lan Zhan is a step closer to his husband’s eternal bliss?

Wei Wuxian can’t be jealous, of course. And he isn’t, not in the slightest, which was why he took Xiao-Yu and withdrew into the nearest corner when Zhang-zongzhu’s daughters trapped Lan Zhan in their midst and started flirting with him. Remaining close by would only make the lady guests believe that Lan Zhan is happily married: which he is, for the moment, but only because he doesn’t know any better.

I’m happily married, though, something small and hurt seems to whisper in the back of Wei Wuxian’s mind, as he and A-Yu make a hasty escape from the gaudy feasting hall and begin looking for somewhere quiet to sit. I’m happy, being married to Lan Zhan.

(author’s note: please reblog, since that’s how we get prompts for future ficlets!)

Sweetheart.

My Wei Ying.

My darling.

These are only three of the tender endearments that Wei Wuxian has heard from his husband’s lips over the last two months, and all of them frighten him as much as they delight him. He knows Lan Zhan’s new affection for him is due to his sense of duty, combined with their renowned great friendship--because how could a marriage between two sworn bi sheng zhi ji be anything but peaceful and happy? They know one another, in every way, from Lan Zhan’s uncanny ability to see through Wei Wuxian’s lies to Wei Wuxian’s easy knowledge of what a drawn muscle on the right side of his xiang gong’s face means, and how the meaning differs when Lan Zhan clenches his teeth on the left side instead.

It is true that Wei Wuxian esteems Lan Zhan above all others, and that Lan Zhan feels the same for him.

He would never have dreamed of calling his friend my sweet husband during a discussion conference, though.

“Lan Zhan, what were you thinking?” he scolds later that night, the moment the two of them are alone in the honeymoon suite Nie Huaisang gave them, despite Wei Wuxian’s protests that the wedding was nearly four months ago and far past any acceptable time for a honeymoon.

“Thank you, Nie-zongzhu,” was all Lan Zhan said to that, wrapping an arm around Wei Wuxian’s waist and kissing him to keep him quiet. “I would have asked for this set of rooms, had you not given it to us.”

His marriage gets more confusing by the day, and it isn’t even Wei Wuxian’s fault.

“Lan Zhan,” he says now, as his husband helps him take off his new Lan hairpieces and worm his way out of his conference robes, “how could you call me such a thing in front of sixteen clans’ worth of dignitaries? Did you see the way they looked at you, after that? Did you see the way they looked at me?”

Lan Zhan only gives him a supremely unconcerned look and undoes the knot securing his forehead ribbon. “What about it?”

Wei Wuxian splutters in disbelief. “You called me xingan, my sweet husband, while feeding me with your own chopsticks, and telling Xiao-Yu that all you wanted him to do was grow up as brave and good as his A-Niang. Have you forgotten that you’re the Chief Cultivator, Lan Zhan? You can’t do these things!”

“Is the Chief Cultivator never to know love, merely because of his rank?” Lan Zhan asks in return. “Did I not vow on the night of our wedding to worship you as you deserved, whether I stood before a crowd of a thousand or you alone?”

“...They were wedding vows, though,” Wei Wuxian offers lamely. “Everyone says things like that when they get married, don’t they?”

His husband lays a hand on his cheek and considers him for a moment, his beautiful dark eyes meeting Wei Wuxian’s like a brand meeting water, or lightning on snow--and Wei Wuxian only keeps himself from swaying forward into Lan Zhan’s arms by sheer willpower, suddenly so desperate to bridge the foot of space between them that he staggers back and shakes his head when Lan Zhan takes a step closer.

“I made my vows in the Cloud Recesses,” he murmurs, holding Wei Wuxian’s quivering palm against his and stroking the inside of his wrist. “Wei Ying.”

“Yes?” Wei Wuxian breathes. “What is it?”

“Recite the seventeenth precept of the Lan sect to your xiang-gong, my heart,” his husband whispers in his ear. “You know it as well as I do.”

“Do not tell falsehoods,” Wei Wuxian whispers back. “So?”

“I have never broken it,” Lan Zhan says quietly. “Never, in eight and thirty years. I could die for you, Wei Ying, and I could live for you and you alone. Surely you understand, by now.”

Wei Wuxian blinks up at him, bewildered. “Understand what?”

A sheet of red silk brushes across his back, and he glances over his shoulder to find the gauzy bed-curtain flapping in the breeze from the open window, reminding Wei Wuxian of their own chuang bed at home, still hung with its drapes of wedding red, and where Wei Wuxian has slept with his husband and child for the past two weeks before they journeyed to Qinghe.

“Understand this, Wei Ying.”

Lan Zhan is even closer now, so close that Wei Wuxian can count his eyelashes, and in the next instant the whole world shifts, and brightens, and changes, in a way Wei Wuxian has never known, nor hoped to know. 

(But despite the way he used to laugh with Nie Huaisang over romance novels and forbidden leaflets when he was a boy, Wei Wuxian once swore a solemn oath with his brother to save his first kiss for his future wife, just to make Jiang Cheng feel better about his painful shyness with the Jiang shimeis.

local man shows range of feelings