#lylys fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

secretly-sapphic-confessions · 1 year

Text

Sappho Debunked- The Phaon debacle

Throughout her life and the little we know about it, many have claimed Sappho to be romantically involved with three different men: Phaon, Alcaeus, and her alleged husband “Kerkylas of Andros”

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

So what about her relationship(?) with the former?

Perhaps the most famous artwork capturing her likeness is the above, ‘Safo’ painted by Miguel Carbonel Selva in 1880. The image illustrates Sappho at her penultimate moment before she leaps from the white rock (theorised to be the Leucadian cliffs) and into the sea, ultimately ending her life. But why? And what does it have to do with this Phaon bloke?

First, we must begin with who he was. Phaon is actually a mythological figure, said to be a ferryman working from Mytilene in Lesbos. He was old, ugly and overall had absolutely no bitches, other than his boat, which he would use to ferry people to Asia Minor. One day, Aphrodite came as a patron to Phaon’s ferry services, albeit disguised as an old woman. Being the lovely fellow he is, he took her across to her destination, insisting that it be free of charge. This act of kindness was in turn rewarded by the goddess, and she gave him an enchanted box of ointment. Upon application, Phaon, previously decrepit, became young and staggeringly beautiful. One could now say, he had mad riz and was never free of womanly touch ever again. And that should, technically, be the end of his story.

Until the Athenians had something to say about it.

There were a surprising amount of Athenian comedy plays made in antiquity where Sappho was a leading character, and it happens that in one such Attic stage traffic, Sappho and Phaon appear.

As they had both lived in Mytilene, they just had to have known each other, so it was only natural that Sappho met the alluring Phaon and was instantly bewitched, falling helplessly in love with him. They oft’ danced the devils tango for a time, really enjoying each other’s, uh, company. But alas, soon Sappho grew mediocre and tiresome to the newly chadified Phaon, and it was even said that he came to prefer her maid to Sappho herself. Haunted by her unfaithful lover and now unrequited affection, Sappho lept from the white rock, hoping that it would cure her of her love, or ultimately kill her.

she drowned.

Unfortunately, this rendition of Sappho’s life became somewhat popular and was only further solidified when Ovid starting shipping it too, writing his poem ‘Sappho to Phaon’, and from there it’s only escalated. The most modern adaption of Sappho and Phaon today is, well, ‘Sapho and Phao’ by John Lyly, a comedy play written and performed for Queen Elizabeth I around 1584. (While doing extra research and double checking my facts, I also found a claimed broadway play of Sappho and Phaon, but I have no idea how credible that is as I could find no additional information and the site probably gave me a virus.)

The action of Sappho leaping from the cliffs is also said to have inspired the actions of a later Mytilenean cult, where yearly members were recreationally thrown off said cliffs accompanied by a white goat. The goal was to swim back to shore, if they hadn’t accidentally killed them in the process, to achieve what I’m not entirely sure. Let them roleplay.

To conclude, the Athenians liked writing Phaon/Sappho fanfiction and serialising it, and then it became wildfire. Historians and classicists alike cannot confirm a single detail about Phaon’s life, so whether he existed at all is massively up for debate. So were Sappho and Phaon the greatest love of antiquity? Not at ALL! But it’s a fun story! Does that mean this moonshine is to be criminalised, however, the tale stamped down into oblivion in our odyssey for truth about Sappho? Again, no! The myth of Phaon will always be a gem for me, and a big part of Archaic pop culture, however, with stories like these, it can be easy to mistake the fanfics for cannon, but it’s nothing reading up and awareness can’t fix.

so now you know! Next time Wikipedia tells you Sappho and Phaon were a happy couple, you can say otherwise!

But who can really say whether the legend of Sappho and Phaon is based on the truth or not? Were Sappho and Phaon the real OTP?

after all, there is no smoke without fire…

what do you think?

Sappho, Phaon and Cupid, by Jacques-Louis David painted in 1809

#sappho #sapphism #sapphic #lesbian #history #classics #female poets #phaon #sappho of lesbos #sappho and her friend #sappho debunked #Miguel carbonel selva #long post #text post #jacques louis david #wlw #nblw #greek mythology

11 notes · View notes

morimakesfanart · 1 year

Text

Reverse Isekai AU Type1 p1

It's Sinbad day/ Sinbad's birthday April 2nd, so I'm officially starting to post The Adventures of Simpbad :D

[AO3] [Wattpad]

SORRY THIS TOOK LIKE A YEAR (the first of these came in 2022 April 20)

~POV Mori~ Nearly two and a half years to the day since I started writing my magi Fanfic Sindria's Prophet I was once again heading to the basement to do laundry. Once again, my thoughts were full of Sinbad and plot bunnies. Once again, I was not paying attention to my steps and was overwhelmed by vertigo -only this time instead of expecting one more step, I was one short. Even though I caught my own fall, a series of loud bangs hurt my ears as the over packed storage to my left was practically bulldozed. This was followed by the sounds from the floor above me of my 3 cats scattering to find hiding places, and at least one human coming to investigate.

"What is this???" "Sin!" "I can't see the Rukh!!" "Is this Al Thamen's doing??" "What the hell???" "Drakon! Is that you??"

I was still in my basement, but they weren't still in Magi. The giant Hinahoho was sitting on the ground closest to me, and in one of the few places in the basement that had more the a 2 foot width of walking space. I couldn't see much past him but I had a pretty good idea of where everyone was from their voices. Sinbad was on the other side of him followed by Drakon -who I couldn't see past Hina for some reason. Slightly to my right I could see Pisti on a pile of boxes, and Sharrkan between her and the packed table on the same side. Yam and Spartos were probably stuck in the piles on the other side of the table. All of this would put Masrur either with the washer and dryer or in another pile of boxes on the left side of the room. I was really going to hate cleaning this later.

"My magic!!" Yam yelled, and there was another clattering sound as more things fell to the ground around her.

'Yam's seashell are held on by magic!' I climbed over the giant with a, "Pardon me, Hina!" and b-lined for the woman on the other side of the basement. She was covering herself with her hands. I ignored the questions pointed at me, took off my hoodie and put it around the magician. "Here. Wear this. This world doesn't have Rukh or magic." And before anyone who's read 'Sindria's Prophet' asks: I had a t-shirt under my hoodie this time because it was colder this year, so, no, I didn't just swap who's nips were freed.

All eyes were on me, but the only one I made eye contact with was Yamuraiha. She was distraught. "What do you mean there's no Rukh? Where are we??" Her knuckles were white as her grip on her staff -and my hoodie- tightened.

Before I could answer, the basement door was thrown open. "Mori!! Are you okay??" The comforting voice of my younger sibling and partner in crime was yelled into the room. "You didn't actually get Isekai'd did you??" This wasn't the first time they referenced my fanfic when there was a crash in the basement, but normally as a joke.

I yelled back. "It's worse!"

They rushed down the stairs. "How???"

"It's a reverse Isekai!" I smiled and spread my arms like an excited penguin in their general direction.

Lyly's silence and horrified, disgusted expression was punctuated by the silence and gaze of our new guests.

--- ~POV Sinbad~ Sinbad and his Generals were escorted upstairs, through a kitchen and another room full of pills of things, before being offered a seat in the living room. There were multiple cracks in the ceiling and walls. The dark Blonde that had showed up second, had ran ahead of them, and was escorting an older man out of the room when they entered it. Hina had to sit on the floor, and the brunette that helped Yam stayed standing, but Sinbad and the rest of his Generals were able to squeeze onto the split sofa.

The brunette introduced herself as "Mori," and reiterated what she had told Yam in the basement. "I'm sure you all have a bunch of questions," she continued, "but before that, it will be a lot easier for me to explain things if I know when you guys are from." She combed her hand through her hair before crossing her arms. "Have you met Aladdin yet?" She knew Aladdin? That got everyone's attention. "Ah- then has the war in Magnostadt happened yet?"

Yam gasped.

Ja'far answered the question just as surprised as everyone else. "It's hasn't been long since the war ended." Something very strange was going on. Sinbad and his Generals were famous, but those details and events weren't common knowledge.

Mori hummed. "Then ...," she looked directly at Sinbad, "have you already learned about Alma Toran at the summit-?"

"Hold on a second," the King cut her off. "How do you know all of that?" Even without the waves, it was obvious that Mori knew a lot more than she was letting on. A world without Rukh or magic? Sinbad wasn't sure he believed it. The last time he had been teleported without warning like this was during the fall of First Sindria when he met Al Thamen face to face, and that required magic. However, he couldn't use magoi manipulation no matter how hard he tried, nor could he feel the waves since arriving in this house, and he had a feeling that leaving out the front door wouldn't change that.

She looked around the room, judging everyone's reaction. "I'll be honest, I don't know if there's a tactful way to say this." Mori walked over to the table in the room covered in strange bars. "I think it would be better if I just show you." She picked up one of the bars and pressed one of the colored nubs on it; the large frame of flat black was filled with color. Before long, to all of their surprise, fascination, and horror, their own lives were being played before them through moving drawings.

"That's definitely us!" "What does this mean?"

The image froze when Mori hit another nub on the device. "So all of you are just characters in a story, and now you've been pulled into ... the world the writer of your story lives in -I'm not the writer of your original lives to be clear; I'm just a dedicated fan." Her shirt added proof to her statement since the scribble of white, purple and yellow on it was vaguely reminiscent of Sinbad -especially with the text "THIS IS A FLIRT ONLY ZONE" underneath.

This made even less sense then there not being any Rukh or magoi. Whatever his Generals started saying, Sinbad wasn't hearing any of it over his own racing thoughts. "If we're just characters in a story, how did this happen?"

Mori spent a minute thinking before answering. "Okay so, I have some theories involving multidimensional theory and string theory that could explain all cases of Isekai -teleporting into other dimensions. And quantum computers have managed to simulate pushing a qubit through a wormhole ((reported by the California Institute of Technology in Nov 2022)), and will probably be able to send whole atoms in the next decade... But I really doubt you're asking me to give you an hour plus long talk on quantum and theoretical physics. But even if I did there is no way to prove any of it is what happened to you."

"What I'm hearing is that you don't know."

"This could just be another story where you all were brought via a plot device."

"You have got to be joking."

Mori waved their hands to try to dispel the growing tension. "It is possible, but if I was the sole writer, I wouldn't have brought all of you here. My morals wouldn't have let me separate any of the Generals from their families, nor take Yam away from her magic like this. So it's even harder for me to tell if this is real or not, and I love breaking the fourth wall!"

The room went silent. How was any of this believable? No. How was any of this acceptable? Sinbad had things to do! He was about to make a huge leap towards realizing his dream! He was chosen by Fate to be King of the world and the new God! He wouldn't fail like Solomon did! --- ~POV Mori~ While our guests struggled with their new reality, my sibling came back from escorting our socially anxious father to his room. They looked at the Generals and then back at me. They had their phone out. "They're all adults, right?"

"Yeah." I answered. We had already discussed what we would do in the case of a reverse isekai for fun.

"Good. We'll need their consent to sell photographs. What cosplay could be more perfect than the actual characters?"

I laughed. "That's true. But Magi hasn't been main stream for a while, so we're going to have to branch out into original stuff fairly quickly." Actually, "Do we dye their hair or get them wigs?" Their hair colors all shifted to natural colors for this world when they got here -just like mine became anime colors in Sindria's Prophet. "I can always Photoshop it."

"Yeah. That's cheaper for now anyway." Lyly glanced at our guests. "I knew we'd have to sell feet pics to get by eventually, I just always thought they'd be yours."

I crossed my arms. "Same." I've been stopped by a few people in person asking to smell or touch my feet; someone even stopped a group conversation to offered me $1k in cash while we were still in front of everyone for me to give him a footjob -it wasn't even the first time he asked either. I said 'no' every time, but I have learned that my feet are apparently very sexy. It's a shame, because I really hate wearing shoes, but now I have to cover my feet every where I go for safety. the real fantasy of Sindria's Prophet is getting to walk around publicly in flip flops/sandels without being propositioned over my feet //jk

Lyly looked over at Drakon. "It's a real shame he didn't stay a dragon. The scaly market is under served."

"Right???"

It was at that moment that the guests got to a question I wasn't ready to answer yet.

"If we're characters from a story, what rolls did we play?" "Oh! That's a good question." "We were clearly central characters in what we saw."

As long as they only theorized amongst themselves-

"Excuse me, Mori." Ja'far took on the roll of the polite diplomat. "What were our rolls in the story? And," I did not like where this was going, "how did the story end?"

Fuck

All eyes were on me. This was something I refused to tell them directly in my fanfic -for good reason! Besides, I still didn't know when in the story they were from.

"Hehehehe" Lyly giggled from next to me. "Yeah, Mori. Why do you tell them all about it?" They're face was a shit eating grin. "You're always talking to us about it, so it's not like you don't know." They were digging my grave for me!

But I had already planned for how to deal with this exact situation in countless daydreams. I turned to our guests with my best customer service smile. "Even better than me telling you, why don't you read it yourselves?" Was not going put myself at risk by defaming Sinbad in front of Ja'far -even if I was telling the truth.

Lyly cut in again, "Both anime cut short of the manga though." They watched me with a smile. "How are they going to read it? I'm not going to give them my phone, and I doubt the Sir (our father) will either." They looked at my shirt for some reason and then back up at me. "But I guess it wouldn't matter if they used one of your devices."

My phone and my computers were plastered with my Sinbad obsession. I couldn't hand those over. Even if I let them use my main PC while I was at work, my room was full of Sinbad figs. I had them strategically placed so that anywhere I looked from my desk I would see a Sinbad to give me a boost of dopamine. I would not let that conceded man know how much I liked him. This was fine though because I had also planned for this eventuality. "That's fine actually. I'll just make a separate login on my laptop and give them that. My account is passworded anyway."

Lyly just raised their eyebrows and didn't say anything as they admitted defeat.

"You know what?" I continued triumphantly. "I'll go do that now. Could you go prepare tea or something for them?"

"Yeah, okay."

Hopefully that would distract everyone for a while. My family were all strong advocates for tea. Between Lyly and me, we owned around 30 different types of tea. And Lyly was magical with food. If they made something specifically catered to each person then it could take nearly 30 minutes. That would be plenty of time for me to make and set up a second account. --- When I was 4 1/2 years old, we had to move because my mom's job changed locations. At that same time she was pregnant with my younger sibling, so we also moved into a bigger home. My parents were sold a house they couldn't afford the upkeep on, but they wouldn't understand that for several years. And because of the economy crashing, both of my parents losing their jobs, metal health problems, addiction, and pride: my parents out right denied the idea of selling the house they couldn't actually afford to live in. And so even with them pulling out of their retirement savings every few years, our roof has poorly patched holes, the siding and paint is chipping everywhere, and all of the windows have something wrong with them -to name some of the growing problems. No matter how far we fell out of the middle class they would not sacrifice the status symbols they fought tooth and nail in their 20's to obtain. However, a real middle class family doesn't need financial aid for basic needs like we do.

At least in instances like this, their stubbornness came in handy. This house has a few more rooms than the average. Both of my parents were hoarders (naturally and because we were too poor to get rid of anything); 7 years after my mom's death, we were still clearing out her things, and fighting my father from adding to the problem. Luckily, in the past few years we had managed to mostly clear out the 2 rooms that had once been a dining room(now "the back room"), and home office/computer room (now "the den"). It would be cramped, but we would be able to fit all 9 of our surprise guests. Both the living room and the den each have a sofa with a pullout queen mattress, and since my dad was a literal hoarder that wouldn't let us throw things out, we have another old queen mattress in our basement, and a king mattress blocking the coat closet. The two old mattresses could be laid on the floor in the back room next to the den. All 4 of those would be enough to fit 9 people ....even with Hina being a giant. I decided to leave the end decisions for who would sleep where to our guests. If they could run a country, they could figure out their sleeping arrangements on their own.

Our nine guests stayed huddled around the laptop to start reading their Fate while my family and I got to clearing places for them to sleep. Eventually, they got bored with reading their own lives and started asking more about our world instead. Lyly and I took turns answering, and setting them up with educational videos while we got back to work. Ja'far, Drakon, and Spartos took turns helping us move things, and setting things up. Hina offered to help, but he was holding the laptop so he was stuck. There's no way we would have gotten everything moved before sundown without their help.

Having a lot of mouths to feed and a low budget, meant we were going to have to go back to making a lot of soup, pasta, rice, and sleep for even more meals. We're Italian Americans so we already have a lot of pasta. My stomach can't handle that much pasta though, so I switched to rice, and I was not about to switch back. Once Sinbad & Co are able to get an income we'll be able to eat better. --- ~POV Generals~ With the night creeping up on them, they decided to wind down and go to bed. There was a lot they all had to process. Mori left her laptop with them so they could look stuff up in the middle of the night. Their hosts were also able to find clothes to lend to all of them ...except for Hina. They had one shirt that was close, but it was still too tight.

That just left them with final decisions on sleeping arrangements. Hina would only fit on the king sized bed, so that was one down. The biggest question is who would get the den. Out of all of the rooms they had seen, the den was obviously maintained that best. There were only two stacks of boxes tucked away in different corners. Two of the walls had bookshelves built into them and were full from floor to ceiling. There was a solid wood desk that was a little cluttered but still nice. The TV, table, and sofa on the other side of the desk were also well taken care of. With the wall of windows on the other side of the room from the door, this was easily the most comfortable room in the house, and was the best option of the choices of sleeping arrangements given to them. It was also the closet in the den where all of their metal vessels and other personal items were being stored.

Sinbad cleared his throat to get the attention of his Generals. "I think we should let Yam use this room -and Pisti if she wants to join her. It's the only spot with a closable door." He smiled at their confused faces.

Ja'far called his bluff, "Are you sure? We all figured you'd want the room to yourself."

Sin's expression softened. "I'm sure. Yam won't be in any condition to be around others for a while. This will give her the privacy she needs." Yam was having a crisis now that she suddenly had no access to Rukh or magic.

Ja'far was proud that Sin wasn't as selfish as he was in his youth. "That's a good point." Their King always made sure that they were taken care of. It's why they never regretted following him. "Then where do you want to sleep, Sin?"

He smiled, "I'll be fine," and looked back in the direction of their hosts, "I have a feeling I'll be sleeping very comfortably during our stay here."

A voice came in from the other room, "Alright, sleep well, Mori."

"That's my cue." Sinbad dashed into the living room at the sound of his target leaving.

Masrur verbalized what they all were thinking. "Womanizer of the Seven Seas."

As much as his Generals mocked him, they were also his most dedicated audience, so they weren't far behind. They missed whatever Sin's opening line had been but they arrived just in time to see him with an arm around Mori. The man works quickly alright.

However, his target looked more confused than charmed. "What are you doing?"

Sinbad was normally the type to back down the moment his target wasn't receptive to him, but there was no way he wasn't going to not sleep on a bed or with a beautiful companion when he had the opportunity. His smile continued to glitter. "I'm following directions."

Mori looked up at him even more confused. Her voice cracked as she made some sound to request an explanation.

The King laughed, glanced at her shirt and then back up at her. "That is me on your shirt, isn't it?"

Mori's expression went blank as she watched him for a few seconds. When his words finally registered in her head, she looked down at her shirt. Her expression twisted in horror and disgust "Oh, Fuck Me!" Her free hand smacked into her face in shame.

Sin laughed again before teasing, "That is what I'm hoping to do."

There was silence for a moment as the whole room registered just how blatant Sin's comment was. Mori uncovered her face and glared daggers up at the man who had one arm still wrapped around her. "You will not touch me or my younger sibling without explicit verbal permission ever again." Sinbad removed his hand and took as many steps backwards as he could. "And if you do, we will kick you out onto the street. There will be no second chances."

"Yes, ma'am."

And so Sinbad ended up sleeping on the other pull out mattress since it was closest to the bathroom.

((Now that I have it set up, the next will be the fun parts of the characters living with me irl :3 I'm still looking for suggestions. Not sure when I'll post it or if I'll post something else first.))

#adventures of simpbad #reverse isekai au #sinbad x oc #king sinbad #king sinbad x oc

18 notes · View notes

rodeo-clowns · 3 years

Text

Hi, I’m Lyly, and i’ve decided to start writing fanfic this summer. Who i will be writing about are in the tags, maybe i will add more in the future, who knows. I’m very slow in writing so pls don’t rush :)

I won’t be writing smut (because it makes me uncomfortable sorry) and all fics will be gender neutral unless stated otherwise :)

Idk how this works so give requests if you want idk.

#cassie howard x reader #alina starkov x reader #beth harmon x reader #carol danvers x reader #deena johnson x reader #zoya nazyalensky x reader #carol danvers imagine #lexie grey x reader #lexi howard x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff imagine

15 notes · View notes

crazedfangirl14 · 2 years

Text

Rules: make a new post, don’t reblog and tag some people you want to get to know better (tagged by @axels-corner )

Favorite color: Yellow

Currently reading: I'm listening to Lore by Alexandra Bracken, I'm reading Alfred Kropp by Rick Yancey

Last song: 5,000 Candles in the Wind by Mouse Rat

Last movie: If tv shows count it was Parks and Rec

Sweet, savory, or spicy: sweet

Three fav ships: SoKeefe, Lylie, and Tiana

First ship: Sofitz

Currently working on: Dealing with life and a couple crochet projects

Comfort food: Green grapes fresh from our garden, or a good home cooked meal

Favorite time of year: Summer but not too warm or warm spring

Favorite fanfic: The only fanfic I've read all the way through is The Chameleon's Grin by Chimera1.1 on quotev

Tagging: @camelspit @stopstealingtomatoes @duckymomo002 @sophiespockets

Not sure if you've already been tagged in this so don't do it if you have already.

1 note · View note

kpopchangedme · 7 years

Text

Lyly’s note: It’s fall AGAIN and I’m not just excited for hockey season, but also because it’s almost HALLOWEEN. It’s my favourite time of the year!

↓ FANFIC CROSSOVER ↓

Nocturna [M] – JB & Bang Chan [Mini-Series]

↓ CLICK N’ DRAGS ↓

Murderous Mess with DAY6

↓ CLICK N’ DRAGS ↓

Living Horror with GOT7

Murder mystery with GOT7

↓ FANFICS ↓

Out of this world (M) – JB [Alien!AU - One Shot]

Judgment Day – Mark ft. Jackson [666 words... Horror!AU – Drabble]

↓ MOODBOARDS ↓

The White Warlock [Park Jinyoung]

The Hellion [Im Jaebum]

↓ FANFICS ↓

Mayhem (M) – Bang Chan [ZombieSurvival!AU - One Shot]

Zombie invasion with MONSTA X [Click N’ Drag]

Living Horror with SF9 [Click N’ Drag]

Murder mystery with VIXX [Click N’ Drag]

Living Horror with B.A.P [Click N’ Drag]

Moon Jongup – Neon Party [Moodboard]

Main Masterlist

#TheKpopNetwork #masterlist #b.a.p #bap #vixx #got7 #monsta x #halloween project #sf9

86 notes · View notes

pureblooded-archive · 4 years

Text

why was i so lazy with my tagging on my old blog, now i can’t find my lylie rant lmao

#( ooc )#it was based in my corvus as an older brother au #and the lyra and charlie were in the same year #hot jock and nerd feels LOL #but like i just have so many feels about lyra and charlie as a couple because there's so much to them #maybe i start a new rant LOL #but honestly i've wanted to write a fanfic about the many different verses where lylie exists and i've held myself back #cause i haven't even finished my og lyra fic #smh

0 notes

yinyangbuns · 1 year

Text

The Love of a Ghost

Ao3 Link Here

It is a strange thing, to have died once. It is a stranger one, to have come back.

Sometimes, Wei Wuxian forgets that he’s not dead.

Some days he wakes up and can’t draw in his first breath of the day through the surprise that he is awake at all.

It’s not like he remembers the years that he was dead. He doesn’t. Not enough to describe anything of real substance. He remembers drifting, maybe. For the most part he was simply aware of this strange, yawning abyss of… nothingness. A lonely road on a moonless night, eyes struggling to decipher shapes from the suffocating darkness. A pitch black room, the door locked, ears straining to hear the voices of his loved ones. The chilling awareness of having been somewhere so crushingly, claustrophobically full of emptiness, somewhere other.

But he does not remember being dead, not truly.

It’s just that he does remember dying. He wakes up and the memory of such heavy despair, of such sheer helplessness - it haunts him. Of seeing his own brother leading a charge into his home, leading a charge against the family that had taken him in as one of their own, who had smiled fondly at him and placed food on his plate and scolded him when he passed it on to A-Yuan again, who had shaken their heads and said you matter too. Of the decision to destroy the amulet, to die alongside that family, to kill himself before he could be killed or captured or worse. Of the agony as the corpses fell upon him, the screams he locked tight in his throat, the icy talons of the resentful energy ravaging his body as it rushed through his ragged spiritual veins. The relief as the world faded away, of thinking finally, finally, he could rest - it all runs on repeat through his mind.

What it comes down to is this: Wei Wuxian stands and is confused by the weight of gravity.

His body believes he should be in free-fall and instead the burden of his own weight presses his toes into the grass of whatever campsite he has decided to stay in for the night.

His blood believes it should be dry and stagnant and so it pushes uncomfortably against his veins.

His voice believes it should be screaming, and so sometimes when he speaks the words come out too loud. Other times it comes out tight and strangled, like it is trying to muffle the would-be sounds of terror or pain or grief that he could never allow anyone to hear.

All he should be able to taste is blood and ash, and yet the flavor of good food and rich wine bursts across his tongue so intensely it makes his cheeks ache.

Sometimes he ducks under doors he can fit under easily. Sometimes he squints to see things that are perfectly clear. Sometimes he has to raise a hand to shield his eyes against the brightness of a sun that he has forgotten, forgets even to breathe because his lungs don't think they should require air.

What it comes down to is that sometimes Wei Wuxian forgets that he’s alive.

But he is nothing if not an actor.

Immediately following his resurrection, it hadn’t been much of a problem. There had always been something that required his attention. Protecting the Lan disciples at Mo Manor, then defeating the statue of the goddess before she could hurt anyone, then confronting Jiang Cheng and getting hauled off to Gusu, then the arm, and all its mystery, then Jin Guangyao, then domestic bliss at Lan Zhan's side in Gusu - Wei Wuxian had been kept so busy that there simply hadn’t been time to sit down and truly feel the gift he’d been unwittingly given. And then he'd left the serenity of Cloud Recesses to travel on his own for a bit, and it had all come crashing down at once.

Death was peaceful, in a way. The sort of rest that Wei Wuxian had longed for, towards the end. It’s not that he wanted to die now that he was alive again (despite his lackluster reaction when he first opened his eyes). Far from it, in fact. He would never subject Lan Zhan to losing him a second time, even if he did wish for such a thing.

It’s just that the rest of him hadn’t quite caught up to the reality of the new life that sang in his veins.

He is not so bold as to think that nobody has noticed that something is off. He is certain, however, that they assume this wrongness has more to do with the tragedy of his life than that of his death.

He walks into Cloud Recesses on feet that hit the ground too heavily. He grips Chenqing in one hand, Suibian sitting heavily in his belt. His fingers are stiff over the smooth lacquer of her wood. The eyes of the cultivators he passes skip right over him. They move like white ghosts in the corners of his vision as he walks steadily onward.

(Are they the ghosts, or is he?)

Distantly he is aware of a younger Lan disciple running off in the direction of the receiving hall. A jade pass swings on the end of Wei Wuxian’s dizi. He wonders at it, at the trust shown in it. It still doesn't feel like something he deserves.

He wants to see Lan Zhan. He wants to look into Lan Zhan’s eyes and say, I want to stay. He wants Lan Zhan to look back at him and say, then stay.

Wei Wuxian is tired of wandering. He is tired of being a ghost, haunting the open plains and lush forests of the world.

He wants to go home.

He keeps walking aimlessly forward. It has been several months since he was last in Cloud Recesses, a promise and a white ribbon binding him even as he wandered further and further away from the fog-cloaked mountains.

The Cloud Recesses have not changed at all. They are comforting in their familiarity.

He walks until something appears to obstruct his path.

A wall of white stands before him. Hands gently cradle his elbows.

When he looks up, his eyes meet gold. The eye contact is like an electric current through his bones.

Ah, to be seen. Ah, to be touched, to be grounded in this body of his, to be forcefully anchored to this hallowed ground.

His voice is chipper, like an impulse. “Lan Zhan!”

“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan does not sound convinced. “You have returned.”

Wei Wuxian nods. He consciously makes his chest move with his breath. In. Out.

“I have. Even the great Yiling Patriarch tires of traveling after a time!”

Lan Zhan hums. He steps back, hands moving to sit heavy on Wei Wuxian’s shoulders.

In. Out. Lan Zhan’s hands move with the motion of his breath.

There’s a furrow in Lan Zhan’s brow. Wei Wuxian watches it for a long moment. It grows deeper.

“-ei Ying?”

Wei Wuxian snaps back into reality. “Ah, Lan Zhan…”

He steps forward. Lan Zhan’s hands slip easily around his shoulders in an embrace. He lets his head thump lightly on his chest. He heaves a sigh. “I’m tired, Lan Zhan.”

He feels the effect his words have on Lan Zhan. His shoulders tense, just a little. His hands curl into the fabric of Wei Wuxian’s robes.

“Then Wei Ying should rest.”

Wei Wuxian huffs a laugh, the first genuine one in quite a while. He pulls away just far enough to meet Lan Zhan’s eyes. “Lan Zhan, won’t you take your poor Wei Ying home?”

Lan Zhan scans his face carefully. One of his hands comes up to cradle the side of Wei Wuxian’s head with a tender grace that strikes Wei Wuxian right in his still-beating heart.

“Mn,” he says. “Let’s go home.”

And so they do. Lan Zhan doesn’t let go of him once. As they walk, he tells Wei Wuxian in low tones of the junior’s adventures (or misadventures, rather). He keeps a hand on Wei Wuxian’s arm, his lower back. He interlaces their fingers and steadily ignores the stares of his clansmen.

(And Wei Wuxian, for his part, is content to ignore them as well in favor of enjoying the closeness of the man he considers his soulmate.)

The doors to the Jingshi shine like a beacon of hope.

They enter, and the world disappears behind her doors. The late afternoon sunlight sets the dust motes in the air alight. The scent of Lan Zhan’s favored sandalwood incense fills the air. Wei Wuxian breathes it in and feels the burden of weeks fall from his shoulders.

He and Lan Zhan work in companionable silence. Lan Zhan unties the red ribbon from Wei Wuxian’s hair. He runs his finger through the fine, soft strands, massaging away the ache from having it tied up for so long with firm fingers. Wei Wuxian turns when he is finished and returns the gesture. The metal of his guan clinks quietly in his hands as he places them on the table.

When he reaches to remove his forehead ribbon, Lan Zhan leans his head ever so slightly forward.

Lan Zhan removes Wei Wuxian’s robes with the care of something precious.

The words escape him into the quiet of their easy companionship before he can think to restrain them.

(He doesn’t know that he would have tried at all. Lan Zhan is… different. He doesn’t have to hide, here.)

“Sometimes, Lan Zhan," he says, voice startling in the heavy quiet of the room, "I feel like a ghost.”

Lan Zhan stiffens. His fingers tighten around the fabric in his grasp.

“Wei Ying is here.” He says, and he means here, in the Jingshi. He means here, solid and breathing. His voice shakes almost imperceptibly.

Wei Wuxian is not blind to the extent to which Lan Zhan grieved for him. Rather, he cannot forget. The proof surrounds him, in the well-tread trail leading to the rabbit’s field, in the easy assurance Sizhui confronts the world with, confident in what he believes is right, in the stories he has heard of Lan Zhan’s night hunts in the years when Wei Wuxian was truly gone, always confronting evil, always fulfilling the promise they made together all those years ago.

He is sorry to have put that tremble back into the voice of his love.

“I am, Lan Zhan. I’m not leaving.” He reassures. He steps closer to Lan Zhan. With every minute he spends in the balm that is Lan Zhan’s presence, he feels more alive. His chest lifts with more ease to allow his breath entrance. His muscles comply more easily when he raises them. His mouth tilts into a smile almost unconsciously.

“Good.” Lan Zhan says. His voice is almost stubbornly mulish under all that cool elegance. He folds Wei Wuxian’s robes neatly before doing the same to his own. Wei Wuxian watches his fingers work over the fabric.

“But I’ve been wandering around, you know?” Wei Wuxian says. Lan Zhan pushes him backwards until his knees hit the bed. He goes easily, without a fight. “Everything has changed so much. And… well, I was dead, Lan Zhan. Sometimes…”

Lan Zhan pushes him back against the sheets before climbing in himself. He fluffs the blankets around Wei Wuxian with an almost offended air. “You are alive.”

“How do we define life, if ghosts do not live? Do they not speak? Do they not breathe, in their own way?” Wei Wuxian smiles sardonically, turning on his side to face Lan Zhan more directly. The blankets settle soft and warm around them, like a cocoon sequestering them away from the rest of the world. “Do they not grieve? Do they not rage against injustice, or lash out in fear?”

“How would you define it, then?” Lan Zhan’s voice is low and deep. It winds around Wei Wuxian like steam from a cup of warm tea. Wei Wuxian takes a long moment just to stare into his eyes. He runs a finger across the notched skin of Lan Zhan’s back.

“I think life must be defined by love.”

“Then there is no way that Wei Ying could be anything else.”

Wei Wuxian blinks. When he looks up, Lan Zhan’s eyes are soft and warm. They shine down at him like sunlight in the evening, like a warm glow that sets dust spinning in the air, like home. He never wants to leave.

Wei Wuxian closes his eyes, a smile on his face. He hums agreeably. He is, after everything, after all of the families he has lost, home at last. Warm sandalwood fills his nose. Firm hands encircle his body. He lies there, skin-to-skin with Lan Zhan. He feels, despite everything… alive.

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wwx #wei wuxian #lwj #lan wangji #wangxian #gdc #the founder of diabolism #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #mxtx #lyly writes #lylys fanfic

7 notes · View notes