one time i told my prof that his forehead reminded me of neil perrys dads from dead poets society and honestly i think he shouldve fired me right then and there
if anyone was going to accidentally possess the body of his situationship, it would be wei wuxian
wei wuxian wakes to the sounds of a guqin and the harsh tones of lan qiren's scolding. the familiarity is comforting, if anything.
the first thing he notices as he comes to is just how clear his thoughts are. he hasn't felt this way since before the fall of lotus pier, before jiang cheng and baoshan sanren and losing his golden core and getting thrown into the burial mounds and carving that flute and feeling hungry, oh so hungry, looking at those dead bodies and reaching out, out, to tear a piece of flesh- he crawls out of that cursed place knowing that all he's done would be worth it, just to see lan zhan again.
lan zhan. lan zhan. the guqin, lan qiren's never ending diatribe. he must be at the cloud recesses. lan zhan must be near. he opens his eyes, makes to stand up, only to find that he can't. in fact. he can't feel anything at all. "great," he thinks, "they've turned my body into a vegetable."
and then it all comes rushing back again. a-yuan in the garden, planting him in the soil, telling him that that was how little radishes like him could grow big. a-yuan, hidden in a hollow tree. the wens, massacred. his own rampage through the nightless city, seeing lan zhan, lan zhan, pushing him off the edge, and falling, falling, falling. into a vegetable, he supposes.
"a-zhan isn't a vegetable!" an indignant voice shouts. "who are you and why are you in my head? i'm going to tell shushu to get you exorcised!"
whatever afterlife this is, it's worse, wei wuxian thinks. that voice sounds so similar to a young lan zhan it hurts. "but I am lan zhan," the voice pouts, "and i'm six, which is plenty old!"
wei wuxian comes to two realizations in the span of a few seconds. one, lan zhan is incredibly cute at this age. two, he must've been damned to eternal torture, it's the only way he would have ever been able to hear lan zhan's voice again.
"i keep telling you, i am lan zhan!" the voice continues. he feels an elevation shift, like he's standing up. "wow," wei wuxian thinks. "hell sure has some realistic physics." the voice, which wei wuxian has labelled as hallucinatory lan zhan, sounds exasperated. "open your eyes," it says. and wei wuxian, obeying a voice that sounds like the man he's loved for half his life, does as he's told.
he's standing in front of a bronze mirror. it's wet with early morning condensation, but that doesn't matter. he can still see his reflection. the baby face of a six year old lan zhan stares back at him. his mouth opens. "well," it starts, "fuck."
lan qiren, who hadn't yet left the room, starts screaming.
if anyone was going to accidentally possess the body of his situationship, it would be wei wuxian
wei wuxian wakes to the sounds of a guqin and the harsh tones of lan qiren's scolding. the familiarity is comforting, if anything.
the first thing he notices as he comes to is just how clear his thoughts are. he hasn't felt this way since before the fall of lotus pier, before jiang cheng and baoshan sanren and losing his golden core and getting thrown into the burial mounds and carving that flute and feeling hungry, oh so hungry, looking at those dead bodies and reaching out, out, to tear a piece of flesh- he crawls out of that cursed place knowing that all he's done would be worth it, just to see lan zhan again.
lan zhan. lan zhan. the guqin, lan qiren's never ending diatribe. he must be at the cloud recesses. lan zhan must be near. he opens his eyes, makes to stand up, only to find that he can't. in fact. he can't feel anything at all. "great," he thinks, "they've turned my body into a vegetable."
and then it all comes rushing back again. a-yuan in the garden, planting him in the soil, telling him that that was how little radishes like him could grow big. a-yuan, hidden in a hollow tree. the wens, massacred. his own rampage through the nightless city, seeing lan zhan, lan zhan, pushing him off the edge, and falling, falling, falling. into a vegetable, he supposes.
"a-zhan isn't a vegetable!" an indignant voice shouts. "who are you and why are you in my head? i'm going to tell shushu to get you exorcised!"
whatever afterlife this is, it's worse, wei wuxian thinks. that voice sounds so similar to a young lan zhan it hurts. "but I am lan zhan," the voice pouts, "and i'm six, which is plenty old!"
wei wuxian comes to two realizations in the span of a few seconds. one, lan zhan is incredibly cute at this age. two, he must've been damned to eternal torture, it's the only way he would have ever been able to hear lan zhan's voice again.
"i keep telling you, i am lan zhan!" the voice continues. he feels an elevation shift, like he's standing up. "wow," wei wuxian thinks. "hell sure has some realistic physics." the voice, which wei wuxian has labelled as hallucinatory lan zhan, sounds exasperated. "open your eyes," it says. and wei wuxian, obeying a voice that sounds like the man he's loved for half his life, does as he's told.
he's standing in front of a bronze mirror. it's wet with early morning condensation, but that doesn't matter. he can still see his reflection. the baby face of a six year old lan zhan stares back at him. his mouth opens. "well," it starts, "fuck."
lan qiren, who hadn't yet left the room, starts screaming.
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