The one conceit of this meme: humans (or human-expies, whatever beings they may be) mate for life. With this comes the typical trappings of "mating for life" - indescribable closeness, contentment around your "destined," and, of course, in your all-too-familiar worst case, jealousy and rage should the bond be threatened.
Oh, and there's also the little caveat that, should your mate die, you die as well. But that's not too much to swallow, is it? The whole thing is only a small conceit, you know.
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romanticism | You approach the potential of mating with a dreamy hope. It will be just like a romance novel! distaste | Ugh, mating? You're going to put it off...or maybe even try not to do it at all. imprint | That's them. That's the one. You both know it, and you can't keep away. first | The first time you come together sets the bond in stone, not to mention sets the stage for the rest of your lives. share | Some mates are able to communicate and share their secrets through a mental link; others have to do it the old fashioned way and just speak up. calm | When one partner goes berserk, there's only one person in this world who can get them to settle down. comfort | Merely being in the presence of your mate can turn your stormy day around. heal | Scars, mental or physical, can be mended with the right love from a mate. need | Your body is going through actual physical withdrawal due to being away from your one and only. protect | Whether the threat be real or jealously perceived, you have to keep what's yours from harm. obsessed | You're beyond jealous. You've taken it too far mistake | Mating with them was not the right decision, but you can't take it back. cheat | Despite your being mated, you've chosen to break a sacred trust and go outside the home. death | There's not much will left to live in you after your mate has passed. Even if there was, it's not like you have much of a choice not to die. old mated couple | You've lasted a long time. This may be your "happy ending."
They had been mated before Wei Wuxian's death. Had been inseparable much to the dismay of the Lan sect. Possibly even the dismay of the Jiang sect, or at least of Jiang Cheng. Their sister, however, had not been surprised. It was something that Lan Wangji had asked her about once. There had been no real answer and just a smile that spoke volumes. She'd known.
He should've died with his mate's death. In a way, he felt as if he had. No matter what his brother, or even reluctant uncle, had tried he'd barely functioned. Sometimes slipping in and out of fevered dreams. There was no one among the Lan or Jiang sects who knew how to fix things. Not when it was unheard of for a mate not to die when their mate did. That was unheard of.
Lan Wangji is barely with it, barely feels that bond reach out to him. A part of it made him sure that his broken mind was playing tricks on him. There was no way that was possible. Not when he'd felt that bond shatter and break. This, however, felt like something that was barely holding on by a thread.
Enough so that he doesn't realize when his brother escorts someone into the Jingshi. He doesn't have the heart to tell his big brother that there is no one he wishes to see. This was normal, after all. His brother sending whoever he could in to see if it would help. To try and mend what was broken.
Going from dead to alive… had been a lot. Especially when Wei Wuxian had not asked to be brought back. He was quite happy being dead, thank you very much. After everything that he had done, after everything he went through, he not only thought he deserved to die but had been quite happy being there. It was—like sleeping. He didn’t remember much of anything, it was all just one big blackness in his head. Oh he remembered dying alright, the feeling of hitting the ground, of watching Lan Wangji get further and further away from him.
But then there was just nothing—and that had been a relief.
Then someone just had to reach into the afterlife and yank him back to life. He didn’t want to be here, he didn’t want to be alive again, he hadn’t wanted to look Jiang Wanyin in the eyes again and know his brother still despised him. If it hadn’t been for Lan Xichen, he would have been dragged back to Lotus Pier and probably executed on the spot even if Jiang Wanyin wasn’t entirely sure it was him. Zewu-Jun was, and he wasn’t even sure how.
Their ride to Gusu had been tense, he wasn’t entirely sure Lan Xichen liked him. But the man didn’t play around either, he just called Wei Wuxian’s name and when he responded the debate was over. He’d taken the mask off, looked Lan Wangji’s brother in the eyes, and said hello. Zewu-Jun had wanted to fly to the Cloud Recesses, get him back there faster. The two baby Lan cultivators with him thought it was a brilliant idea. Wei Wuxian though looked at the swords, thought back to his problem with heights, and promptly threw up.
They walked.
Now, in the Cloud Recesses themselves, he was reintroduced to the Wall of Discipline that in his death had decided to add an entire new thousand rules to it. Making it a total four thousand. Four thousand! Who needed four thousand? Wei Wuxian could barely stick to ten of them, forget the three thousand from his years studying here. Four? Lan Qiren was going to throw him from the place before their strict sleeping time.
He was ditched outside the Jingshi. Lan Xichen waved him toward it and announced to Lan Wangji that he had a visitor before taking off like he was on fire. It was the fastest he’d ever seen a Lan walk. Wei Wuxian watched him go for a few minutes before knocking on the door and taking a step inside. He’d actually never been in here, with everything that happened in their lives the most time he spent at the Cloud Recesses was during his years studying here. Most of that time was spent in punishment, kneeling or writing rules in the library.
“Lan Zhan? Are you actually in here?” A better question would be to ask if he even wanted to see Wei Wuxian.
He hears his brother mention the visitor. Lan Wangji ultimately ignores his brother. This, unfortunately, was not something new. Lan Xichen had been trying everything to get his little brother back in working order. Nothing had ever worked. Now? He's trying to figure out exactly what his brother had brought into his home? That couldn't be Wei Wuxian. His mate was dead.
Except that something tugged at his heartstrings. Even if he didn't have the strength to follow it. How long had it been? Far too long, in his eyes. Lan Wangji wanted that voice to belong to Wei Wuxian. However, wants managed to cause more harm than good.
"I am afraid that my brother has deceived you. There is no need for anyone today." It comes out far weaker than what Wei Wuxian would remember ever coming from the younger Jade. After all, he was sure that this was just another ploy of Lan Xichen's in order to get him up and functioning again.
If that were the case, then his brother had it all wrong.
“You know I thought the same thing when my soul was yanked back into the world of the living. Unfortunately neither of us are winning today.” He takes a seat at the table, sure that Lan Wangji was in his bedroom from the sounds of his voice. He had the Guqin in front of him though, which meant he wasn’t playing. Which was odd, he thought Lan Wangji spent all his time playing. Playing or meditating anyway.
“I threw up on your brother.” He leans forward on the table, looking at the long strings of the instrument. If Lan Wangji didn’t want to indulge him or didn’t feel well enough to, he’d just talk instead. Fill the silence with his voice. Wei Wuxian was good at that, even when he didn’t want to be. But talking right now was what was making all of this seem real. He was—oddly very tired despite having slept for several years. If one could call it that.
“He wanted to fly from—wherever we were to the Cloud Recesses. I looked up and just—had a horrible sinking feeling of familiarity and up came everything in my stomach all over your brother. He took it well! Was quite worried. I didn’t realize I had developed a fear of heights.” He’s rambling, he knows, but it’s helping to just talk. “It sounds so stupid. I can remember flying on Suibian, fondly. But—I remember the fall into the Burial Mounds and the one at Nightless City and I just—can’t do it.”
He touches a finger to the Guqin and leans back away from the table, wrapping an arm around his waist. “He said you weren’t feeling well too, I think he went to fetch you soup or something. Am I talking too much? If I find a flute I can play for you—if—if they’ll let me.” Would they let him play a flute in the Cloud Recesses? He wouldn’t use it for Demonic cultivation.
Listening to the words coming from Wei Wuxian was liking having a blade shoved through his heart. What elaborate sorcery was his older brother trying to pull? Except that he knows Lan Xichen would not pull something of that nature. He knows, deep down, that the voice belongs to the very one that he'd lost.
He doesn't make a sound even if there would've been amusement at the mention of the other throwing up on his brother. Honestly, he could only imagine that his brother had run to go get cleaned up. The mention of having the fear of heights causes him to pause. It was something that he would have to remember.
"He did not go to fetch soup. He went to fetch you hoping that it would fix what was broken."
Whether he truly believed that was Wei Wuxian out there or not was a whole other story. The mention of the flute, though, has him paling. He had kept Chenqing after Wei Wuxian's death. Taken from the hands of Jiang Cheng himself.
“You have Chenqing?” Wei Wuxian actually perks up at the mention of that, his gaze searching around for the place Lan Wangji puts his sword. Eventually he does spot it, in the sword stand in the room he assumed Lan Wangji was in. Standing from the table he stumbles his way into the room, walking toward the stand and looking briefly to Bichen before the flute.
“Huh, here I assumed it broke with my fall. I had dropped it first.” He reaches out and snatches it up, spinning the flute in his fingers with a familiar and practiced motion. “Should have known the black bamboo wouldn’t break that easily. It was infused with resentful energy after all. Took me—quite a while to carve in that place. I didn't have much to do it with after all.” Bone. He used a sharp piece of bone to carve it.
Catching it in his palm he turned to look at Lan Wangji on the bed, somehow pulling a smile on his face. “Lan Zhan! You look terrible. No offense, I mean usually you look pretty good. You’re a very attractive person! But you look sick. Pale. Lan Xichen better come back with soup or something, you need fluids.”
He makes his way over to the bed and sits down next to it, leaning back and motioning toward the man with Chenqing. “Should I play? Have you kept Chenqing clean? You played for me when I was ill! Ah, that’s what I should play! The song you wrote in the Tortoise of Slaughters cave!”
He doesn't have the heart to tell Wei Wuxian that his dizi hadn't been in the best of shape. However, between himself and Jiang Cheng it had been restored by to its former glory. All of this, to be honest, was becoming too much. The excite in that voice. It was one that he would remember until the day he did manage to die of a broken heart.
Except that Wei Wuxian was standing in his room, snatching Chenqing up from its rightful place beside Bichen. A place it had not left this whole time. He felt like he couldn't breathe. Like all the life had been drained out of him.
"My brother knows to leave me be."
Though, he can't remember when he ate last. No, that wasn't true. The last time he'd ate was when Sizhui had brought something to him. More due to the elder clan members knowing that he would eat for him, but no one else.
"Chenqing is in pristine condition." The way that she was meant to be. "Mn." Wei Wuxian could play what he wanted. A part of Lan Wangji still wasn't entirely sure any of this was real.
“Then I’ll play! Just so that you feel better! Your song helped me feel better, though I still never knew the name of it. Let’s see if I can even remember it right.” He taps Chenqing against his chin, trying to place the song from the cave. It wasn’t hard, the notes of it had been engraved in his head. He heard that song in his sleep, in the darkest of times, and had often hummed it to himself when he was in the Burial Mounds. He was sure that song was part of what kept him sane.
Twisting Chenqing around he settled the black flute properly in his hands, fingers along the holes and then placed it to his lips. Taking a breath he eased his body and blew a clear note. A few tests, just to make sure it was actually alright, and then he started into the familiar memory of the song Lan Wangji wrote.
Despite not knowing the name of the song he knew that it was important to the both of them. How Lan Wangji wrote a song in a single moment when Wei Wuxian asked him to sing for him, was still unknown to him. It was a mystery he was quite certain Lan Wangji would never tell him about.
He played each note carefully, as well as he remembered them and hoped he didn’t butcher any part. He did just wake from the world's longest rest and then fought a few fierce corpses, he was lucky he had a decent flute or he was sure he’d be a worse player. As it stood he felt he did pretty well and the song was recognizable.
When it came to an end he pulled the flute away and sucked in a breath, spinning the instrument in his fingers as he yawned. “Is resurrection supposed to be this hard? I’m so tired. Was that bad Lan Zhan? It felt bad.” He rubbed his face and struggled to keep his eyes open. “I’ll try again later.”
Lan Wangji wasn't sure if he could handle the pain of it. Though, he allows Wei Wuxian to play for him. It had been a song solely for the other. Something that he had come up with due to not being able to express his feelings for him.
He barely registers any tears that slip from the corners of his eyes. Butchered or not, there wasn't another soul who know that song. If there was then it was not as well known by them than by the two that were in the bedroom of the Jingshi right now.
"Wei Ying should rest."
Even if there was a part of him that was scared of that aspect, even if he would never allow that fear to show. If Wei Wuxian rested, would he wake up? Would he stay alive after? Or would he be a corpse that Lan Wangji would have to deal with?
“But I’ve been resting.” The words are muttered, a half-hearted argument. He really didn’t have the strength to put up a fight about it, and he was tired. The idea was ridiculous to him of course, considering how long he’d been dead, but with the fight and the long walk here not to mention the curse that brought him back—it was a toll. At least on a body without a golden core.
Even so despite his objections he does pull himself closer to the edge of Lan Wangji’s bed. He folds his arms over the top of it, beside Lan Wangji’s body and rests his head on his arms. He doesn’t close his eyes though, he watches Lan Wangji in his tired state and tries to meet the other man's eyes. Perhaps it should be telling that Lan Wangji doesn’t look at him, or at the very least seems to be avoiding it.
“Lan Zhan, are you still mad at me? I thought one of your Lan rules was to hold no grudges.” He attempts for teasing but he’s sure his voice lets out how vulnerable he felt asking that question. “I can leave if that would make you more comfortable. I’m fine telling Zewu-Jun where to shove his ideas. Though maybe less so if your Uncle is anywhere nearby. He still scares me.” A soft laugh, an attempt to cover his own insecurities. He’s not sure he could convince his body to move right now though.
Those four words were like a punch to the gut. Wei Wuxian had not been resting, he'd been dead. There was a very huge difference between the two things. He doesn't, however, expect Wei Wuxian to pull close to the side of the bed. Close enough to see the tears that had slipped down the corner of his eyes.
Unfortunately, for Wei Wuxian, this was normal. He barely looked at anyone. Not his uncle or his brother. The only one to get any decent reaction out of him was Sizhui. A young boy who he saw like a son. In the beginning he had tried to keep himself put together for him, but a mate bond was not something to be trifled with. So, it had taken him down hard.
"Wei Ying is an idiot." Though, it lacks conviction. "Why should one not hold grudges when they were left behind?" When one should've died at the same time is left unsaid.
“You say that like I had a choice.” Like Wei Wuxian had wanted things to get as out of hand as they did. Though he is aware at the end he was—a bit more than unstable. He struggled with control, which plagued his mind and tainted his comprehension. He is aware he screwed up, but it wasn’t him that brought an army to his door and slaughtered innocent people that had just been trying to live. That had taken away little Yuan who just wanted to live.
It wasn’t him that sought power and wanted the Yin Tiger Seal to control the cultivation world.
But it was him that threw himself off that cliff because he just couldn’t take it anymore. Because he’d killed his sister and his brother looked at him like he’d torn his entire world down around him. And he had, hadn’t he? It was his fault Lotus Pier burned, his fault Jiang Yanli died, his fault the Wen’s died. He deserved everything he got in the end, that he was sure of.
However he hadn’t intentionally left Lan Wangji behind. Though he had thought the other would be happy he was out of his hair. Surely it made his life easier not having Wei Wuxian around to harass him. “You should sleep, Lan Zhan, I’ll go find Lan Xichen and yell at him for dragging me here to bother you.” He forces himself to lean back, finding the energy to stand from the floor.
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bakerstreet2021-03-11 07:43 am
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