Untamed Fall Fest 2020: Day 15 Golden

Untamed Fall Fest 2020: Day 15 – Golden

(You can also find this on my Ao3-account)

AU: Wei Wuxian was never brought to Lotus Pier, but instead grew up as a member of QishanWen, as one of Wen Rouhan’s inner circle. Wen Rouhan uses him to get information from other sects by making him not only a strong cultivator, but an exceptional dancer, sending him to seduce people with his body (no prostitution, Wei Wuxian would castrate any of his ‘victims’ that tried using him like that).

The story takes place at a Discussion Conference in Qishan, pre-canon.

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At a hand gesture of Wen Rouhan, the doors behind him opened and dancers in wide skirts and jiggling jewelry streamed into the space between the tables the sects sat at. A startled gasp went through the room, followed by agitated mumbling and when Lan Wangji heard even his brother next to him try to stifle an involuntary sound, he looked up from where his eyes had been fixed on his tea cup.

Eyes that widened immediately upon looking at the dancers that had already begun swaying and turning to the dark, heavy feeling music that was being played, because next to their long, layered skirts and a thin strip of fabric over their chests, those dancers weren’t wearing much else. Naked skin flashed in his field of view, naked arms and stomachs and longs legs, bared to the glances of the flustered and scandalized crowd, and Lan Wangji felt the tips of his ears becoming unbearably hot. It felt like watching a carriage tip over after hitting a bump in the road: horrible and shocking of the sort that made you unable to look away.

The murmurs in the room were still going on, the majority of the guests unsure whether to look away or not. The members of GusuLan behind him and his brother all looked flustered and shocked, their gazes flitting around the room to find something to look at that wasn’t the half naked dancers in the middle of it. Lan Xichen had directed his eyes at Wen Rouhan, who lounged in his opulent throne, looking comfortable and smug and not flustered at all, instead rather satisfied with the outrage he had caused.

Just as Lan Wangji thought he, too, could finally manage to rip his eyes away, to fix them on something that wouldn’t make his ears burn like they were on fire, they were caught by someone in the middle of the dancing group. It took him a moment to understand why he got caught on that someone, until he saw that it wasn’t a woman like all the other dancers, but a man.

A man, dressed in the same layered skirts in red and black and red again, the same flimsy top with the sun of QishanWen on it, but bedecked in much more jewelry than the women around him, as if he was the main attraction. There was an elaborate golden piece at the underside of his top, completing the upper half of the sun motif with drops of gold with red and black gems in them; golden bracelets were wrapped around his wrists and upper arms, throat, chest and even the creamy thigh and ankle that appeared every now and then between the layers of his skirts; chains with pearls of gold connecting bracelets, in his long, dark hair next to a longer red ribbon and hanging from the belt of red and gold discs at his hips.

Whenever he turned, the firelight would catch on all that gold and the deep red of the gems, as well as on the hundred tiny gems sewn into the hems on his skirts, making it look like they were on fire. He painted streaks of gold into the air with the flip of his hair and arms, pulling a golden aura with him like a veil of a wedding gown.

And no matter how much Lan Wangji tried, he could not rip his gaze away from that man. With every twist of his wrists, every shift of his shoulders, every throw of his head, he seemed to enthrall him, shackling his attention to himself with long fingers and longer legs, the flexing of his muscles visible under the naked skin of his stomach and back.

It was outrageous, scandalous and the Second Young Master of GusuLan should turn away like all the other members of his clan, but he couldn’t.

He couldn’t.

And then the man threw back his head and his eyes locked onto his own for a moment, deep silver pools, sparkling like stars in the firelight, and something in his whole body seemed to tense and unlock at the same time, intoxicating heat and heady excitement rushing through his veins, making everything around him fall away and his whole being focus on the man in red and black and gold.

When the man grinned at him wickedly, Lan Wangji already knew from the pounding of his heart and the blood rushing loudly in his ears, that he would never be able to let this moment go, never mind forget the dancer with robes of fire and an aura of gold.

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(part two)

Untamed Fall Fest 2020: Day 22 – Warmth

(You can also find this on my Ao3-account)

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The windows in the Jingshi were open, cold autumn wind blowing through the house, bringing with it dried leaves and the first wisps of nightly fog, cooling the temperature down to chilly levels. The air was almost frigid on their skin, nearly naked with only their underrobes barely covering them, pushed down to hang off their arms.

But no matter the chilly air, Lan Wangji wasn’t cold. How could he? There was warm skin pressed right up to his own, warm hands cradling his head, warm breath upon his face and silver eyes, like sparkling stars in the night sky, staring right into his own, filling him with love and awe and comfort.

He didn’t care about the cold, only pulled that warm, beloved body closer, crushing that precious weight against him until all he could feel was warmth, warmth, warmth, in the arms of his love.

So, some of you may remember my fanart and fanfiction for fytheuntamed’s Untamed Fall Fest 2020: Golden, which I posted now pretty much exactly a year ago, and, guess what, I made a second part!

You don't necessarily need to have read the first part, if you just want to enjoy the art, but for better understanding and if you want to, I'd be happy to have you take a quick look at it.

Also, the story here is just a preview, if you want to read the whole thing, visit this story on my Ao3-account.

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Carnage of Red Shadows

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"There you are. For a moment here, I thought you wouldn’t come at all.“

The voice echoed through the whole room, as if the owner had screamed, even though his tone was calm, nearly bored.

Lan Wangji’s head jerked up, to find a figure sitting on the throne at the other side of the room.

Silver eyes locked onto his and he nearly forgot how to breathe.

He knew those eyes, he remembered them, remembered them looking at him teasingly, with a shining glimmer inside them that made them look like stars.

"Wen… Wen Wuxian?“, his brother asked in an uncertain tone.

"In the flesh“, the other man replied with a careless wave of his hand down his body.

And Lan Wangji wished he hadn’t, because his eyes followed the movement, lured by the soft tinkling of the chains and rings on a pale hand, and fell upon the body that he wished he could have forgotten.

Again, it was clad in less garments than would be considered proper, the legs barely hidden behind skirts layered upon one another, littered with golden gems that blinked and glittered in the firelight. The outermost skirt was made from a translucent, flowing fabric, dark like smoke, teasing with the silhouette of a pale, creamy leg, pulled up onto the throne, while it’s counterpart was naked and out in the open for everyone to see. The inner skirt was blood red and covering just enough remain the bare amount of decent, while the chest was just so covered by fabric in matching black and red.

And again the man was draped in more jewelry than even Jin Zixuan out on a special day. An elaborate headpiece sat on top of his hair, red gems sitting in delicate strings of gold. Long golden chains flowed down his back with his shimmering hair, clinking softly with every movement of his head. More golden strings were strapped across his chest and even more connected the chest piece with the bracelets on his arms. His neck, wrists, upper arms, thighs and ankles glimmered with golden bands.

But the worst of all, worse than the revealing clothes and the enticing gold all over his body, was his face. Not bare with the faintest traces of lip stain like the last time Lan Wangji had seen him, his eyes were surrounded by red shadows this time, like he had only seen some wealthy women wear or those of less appropriate professions. Little flakes of gold flared up with the smallest movement, clinging to the skin around his eyes and even to his lashes.

The silver eyes looked even brighter and at the same time nearly threateningly sharp, sending shivers down Lan Wangjis back, as did the dark red lips with the same golden shimmer, pulled into a tiny smirk.

Just like the first time he had seen the mystifying figure that was Wen Wuxian, Lan Wangji was mesmerized. No matter that seconds ago he was ready to fight for his life and sect and was surrounded by foul-smelling, rotting bodies, he was unable to take his eyes off the man, his heart beating fast and loud in his ears. Everything about him, from his dark, flowing locks, to the pale, creamy, soft looking skin, to the tantalizing gold and jewels creating an aura of superiority and unimpeachability, to his captivating eyes, fascinated him on a level no person had ever reached before. Even without ever being any closer to this man than this, separated by a whole room, even with just a look, he took hold of him, touching places inside him no one has ever been able to touch.

He felt hot and cold at the same time, felt the desire to go over and take a closer look, run his hands over his skin, to see if it was just as soft as it looked, and at the same time to just stand there for eternity and be allowed to never take his eyes off him.

His feelings, that he had such a tight hold on since he could remember, were running wild and free through his body, making it react in ways he hadn’t experienced before, making him feel uselessly off guard, making him unable to think clearly, to actually grasp the situation. They were warring against his head, that was urging him to gather himself and actually pay attention to what was happening around him.

The sound of a sword meeting stone finally ripped his focus free in a jarring way, that felt a lot like cold water being splashed onto him. With a miniscule shake of his head and gripping Bichens hilt, until he had the feeling it’s impression would be forever pressed into his palm, he managed to rip his eyes away and focus them back onto the piles of corpses.

Just looking at their dead eyes and some still sluggishly bleeding bodies was sobering and he felt his senses return to him, together with the overwhelming stench and the sounds of people retching behind him.

"How do you like my welcome present?“, Wen Wuxian spoke again, this time with a wave into the room to encompass all the death inside it, "I thought it might satisfy you.“

The glint in his eyes made them look nearly eerie.

Rosewood

(3/5)

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Third piece.

The titles are names of color shades, by the way.

Untamed Fall Fest 2020: Day 17 - Falling

(You can also find this on my Ao3-account)

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When Lan Wangji arrived back at Cloud Recesses, he looked much worse than when he started from there hours before. Even from a distance Lan Xichen could see his cheeks red with fever and his whole body trembling from the strain of flying on his sword way too soon after what had been done to him in the name of punishment.

“Wangji!”, he called out as soon as the light figure was within hearing distance, already closing in on the spot where Bichen would set down in a wobbly landing in big strides. His brother didn’t answer, just stood there, breathing heavily and only when Lan Xichen was right before him could he see that he had his arms wrapped around something securely.

No, not something. Someone.

Baffled, Lan Xichen couldn’t react beyond closing his own arms around the little child, when his brother pushed it against his chest.

“Brother”, Lan Wangji rasped quietly, “please, protect him.”

Lan Xichen was torn between wanting to bundle his baby brother back into his bed and bringing the child in his arms to the sect doctors, because his little body felt too hot to be normal and he could hear his labored breaths even from where the tiny face was pressed into his robes.

“Wangji, who is this? Where did you find this child?”, he asked, while turning his head to see if any disciples were around to go bring the child to the infirmary.

“Protect him”, Lan Wangji repeated, still gasping and swaying on unsteady legs, his eyes unfocused in a way that told the sect leader the fever already had him firmly in his grip.

“Wen Yuan”, he added, then, and Lan Xichen froze, “Please, brother, we have to protect him.”

Wen Yuan. A child. Lan Wangji had flown to the Burial Mounds, after the sect leader had told him about the siege, and brought back a child. There had been a child there… They had fought against… They had killed…

Lan Xichen pushed the nauseating feeling of doubt and guilt back and looked down to the child, the boy, whose cheeks were as feverish as his brother’s and hot to the touch.

When he looked back up and into his brother’s eyes he found them silently pleading, nearly begging with all their fever-wracked, unsteady focus, his trembling hand wrapped tightly around Bichen’s hilt, and he understood with shocking clarity, that he wasn’t sure Lan Xichen would fulfill his wish, wasn’t sure he wouldn’t condemn the child for his name. The sect leader wanted to feel hurt because of it, wanted to be affronted, if it weren’t for the fact that he had condemned many others for the same fault and let them be slaughtered not long ago.

“I promise, Wangji. He will be safe”, he vowed with as much silent force as possible and the naked relief in his brothers eyes was staggering.

“Sect Leader Lan!”, called out a voice behind him and he turned around to see disciples hurrying in their direction. He wanted to call out to them, tell them to find a doctor, when a heavy thump sounded behind him. Alarmed, he whirled around, and gasped, terrifying fear gripping his heart tightly.

“Wangji!”, he called and let himself fall to his knees, the child still pressed against his chest, but his brother didn’t react.

He had fallen down where he had stood, his limbs splayed on the ground, his unbound hair covering the grass in tangled, matted strands. The light blue robes on his back were a frighteningly dark shade of red, his wounds having bled through the bandages after being strained so soon, the lines of the strokes visible even through the many layers of cloth. His chest rose and fell heavily, his breath becoming more labored with every exhale and his cheeks burning brighter by the moment.

“Sect Leader Lan! Second Young Master!” The disciples calling out reminded Lan Xichen of their presence and he tried to get himself together enough to be able to speak without his voice trembling.

“Get the doctors and a stretcher. Hurry!” He didn’t care if his last order was spoken too harshly or too loudly and didn’t wait until the disciples fast-walked to do as they were told.

With his heart pounding heavily in his chest and dizzying fear choking him, making himself struggle for every breath just like his brother and the child, he took one of his brother’s cold, limp hands and closed his own around it tightly, holding on with all his might.

While the torrent of fear, guilt and horror tore him apart inside, making him feel as if he was plummeting down an endless tunnel, falling into disabling doubt and uncertainty.