#through peripheral absorption exo funneled into my dreams and whenever i had an update on this dream fanfic

[vermillioncrown]

This might be easier, remember the college au you wrote a little of? What if everyone there woke up with past memories?

not really easier but i appreciate the sentiment. have this whole thing of nonsense as a reward.

(transmigrators are on their third lives, reverse transmigrators are on their second lives.)

(we're just gonna stick with the canon characters i've already written in the college au)

(wangxian ot3 shippers, eat your heart out)

=

the dreamnightmare was so fantastic so disturbing that sy wakes late and nearly ends up missing his bus. he barely makes it, rushing towards the pre-lecture meeting spot where zyx should have a warm latte waiting for him.

he finds her lying on the dirt (as usual). she's dressed in her gremlin uniform, worn when she pulls an all-nighter (as usual). she... has a cigarette burning away between her lips (unusual).

"bad night?" sy tentatively asks.

"something i dreamt i was a butterfly, something something, am i a butterfly," zyx mumbles, thousand yard stare up into the canopy of the trees.

okay, then - a Strange Dream. his dream was fucking weird, but zyx's dreams were Cinematic Weird. Inception Weird. sometimes, he wishes she'd just ghostwrite for sqh with that imagination of hers.

zyx is usually down to talk about them. today, however, she doesn't start rambling about the details even as he waits patiently.

finally, sy plucks the cigarette from her mouth and stomps it out. "'now i do not know whether i was then a man dreaming i was a butterfly; or whether i am now a butterfly, dreaming i am a man'," he corrects. "zhuangzi."

"persona," she weakly insists.

"you banana-weeb-trash," sy rolls his eyes, "c'mon. we'll be late for lecture"

she becomes more present as they walk towards the lecture hall. whatever; if she wants to say something she'll eventually say it. sy needs to quickly drink his coffee and put it out of his mind. it's not like he'll let his own weird trashy isekai nightmare get in the way of respectfully interacting with his peers.

=

sy reaches class and immediately, disrespectfully stares. stares at lbh, a junior that is always early, always sits behind sy's seat, and always seems to have a smile on his face. it's a smile today, too, but one that seems too focused on his person.

sy feels his face start to heat up. he flashes a quick smile and turns to look elsewhere. his eyes (disrespectfully) lands on his other junior lqg. disrespectful, because he can't look away from how his (pretty) classmate stares at him. intently, with turbulent thoughts behind his face.

"shen -"

"- you!" and abruptly, lbh and lqg start punching each other in the lecture hall

what the fuck.

zyx stops walking and leans on his arm. "uh. huh... i was kidding when i said they were probably part of some fight club," zyx gives the duo a dispassionate look. "i love being right."

=

by the time her controls lecture rolls around, zyx is too fucking Done to give a shit about any dreams, no matter how mind-bendy and weird. did dream-zyx help her solve the homework? no? then she's not welcome in the real world.

(actually, zyx realizes and crosses out an erroneous line of work, that mistake seems so obvious now -)

"- hey! yunxun!"

she looks up. it's wei fucking wuxian, hovering over her desk with that shit-eating smile. fuck him, she's had nastier dreams with uglier people - 'you're not special wwx!'

"can i... help you?"

his smile turns awkward.

"well..., um, you know - since we're in this class and mechatronics together, i was wondering if you want to study with me?"

every word out of wwx makes her feel like she's being held hostage. study what? he's basically top of the class - does he want a complimentary blowjob or something?

"do you need tutoring money?" she tries deflecting as a joke. zyx is aware it comes off meaner than she wanted it to, but - she can already see how studying together will go. wwx, non-stop talking and solving everything. her, lead-tongued and in tears when she gets home.

"you want me to tutor you?" wwx perks up, before freezing and laughing awkwardly, "i mean, i don't think you need tutoring, but -"

"- i don't need tutoring," she deadpans.

fuck. all of their classmates are just... staring now. zyx resolutely turns back to her homework and notes, willing wwx to just go away.

he does not. unfortunately for her, he decides on one last attempt to annoy her and succeeds.

"hair like snow, your parting is a beautiful sorrow, who is moved by my incense -" he starts whisper-singing, hands braced on her desk and leaning in.

'fuck! nhs's karaoke invitation last week was a fucking mistake!!'

zyx slams her notebook shut and stands up. shorter than him by nearly a head, that doesn't stop her from glaring up and baring her teeth. "if you wanted to embarrass me, you could have just stuck with grades."

fuck it, she's not in the mood for learning anything. zyx grabs her bag and shoves her notebook in, barely remembering to toss her homework onto the lectern before stomping out of the room.

=

zyx's time smashing her list of angsty emo song covers on the piano comes to an abrupt end with a knock. she turns, dreading and knowing whatwho she'll find.

the indomitable lan wangjihot violin asshole glares at her through the window pane of the practice room door.

'fuck, man - don't you have class?! go to school!' zyx is completely aware that she's a huge hypocrite.

it's like god knows she had disrespectful dreams of her classmates, and is now punishing her. so rude - dreams are dreams, life is life.

she can't delay opening the door any longer. zyx finishes packing up and walks over to yet another mortifying social interaction.

"... hi? um. room's free, if you..." her voice fades as she elicits no response, facial or verbal.

finally, his glare changes. "zhu yunxun."

her fucking heart drops straight into hell the moment he says her name. he knows her name?!?! he remembers her?!!?!?

worse - a hot violin asshole doppelganger pops into the doorframe, smiling like the good twin to the original's evil.

(okay, she knows he's not evil, but he's kinda not... he's evil because she doesn't like how he makes her feel, okay?)

"wangji, is this the acquaintance that you wanted for your accompaniment?"

"mhm."

"hi, i'm lan xichen, wangji's brother - it's nice to meet you," smile-y (but no less evil) violin doppelganger holds out a hand. "you're not a music major, right? i haven't seen you around."

"hi, uh. zhu yunxun." zyx thanks the fucking merciful goddess that she is trained to autopilot crush hands in a handshake - can't compete with the sweaty engineering boys otherwise (never mind that she's basically a sweaty engineering boy). "i'm in the engineering department."

"you play as an extra-curricular, then?"

'no, i don't play at all! i don't know how to play!' all she has is five years of her uncle teaching her random shit. she can't say that for fear of her life, with frowny hot violin asshole glaring down at her and smile-y hot violin(?) asshole just... expecting down at her.

("what's a recital?" she remembers asking in class, when questioned about her piano lessons. holy fuck. time travel and go put her past self out of her misery, please.)

"Ah... hahah yeah, it's all just for fun... hey, sorry - i'm actually running late for a group meeting" she quickly darts between the two brothers, waving behind her as she runs down the hall. "nice meeting you!" she yells back.

=

sqh has been missing for a week. sy and zyx have noted it, but aren't too concerned (he texted a cryptic emoji missive, which they interpreted as 'mostly ok', which, okay). he gets in writing benders and squirrels away often enough. it's only by the 10th day mark that they need to drag sqh to air out in the sun.

besides, the two of them have other concerns.

"you're looking crustier than usual," sy says as his warm and polite greeting towards a dear friend.

"dude, fuck you." zyx takes an obnoxious slurp of her iced coffee. "i don't wanna hear it from sir gucci eyebags"

they both look rather worse for the wear. sy knows what he's dealing with - a strange feeling of being hunted. watched. the odd moods of some of his classmates. lqg's stares ('can he read minds? fuck, man - it's not gay if it's in a dream!'). constant lbh encounters, seeing him play frisbee on the quad and ripping off his shirt ('how the fuck did he know the shape of him??' he can't help but look downwards, like the call of the void, and - NO -).

but zyx? she's been working weirder hours than usual. and hasn't wanted to indulge in her typical hangouts or habits. "did you fail a project? a midterm?" skipping the gym (probably for her own good, sy thinks, looking at her husk-like countenance).

"no!" defensive, but likely not a lie from her expression. "... people are just... being annoying. i literally have to sneak into the comp lab at midnight to get anything done. dance practice location also needs to change - so a lot of running ragged scouting and asking for permission"

sy nods along, thumbing through forums on his phone. "this week has been a special kind of shit." he feels agitated, unable to focus on what would normally be an enjoyable distraction.

"for real -"

she freezes.

"what?" sy turns to her, but a second later zyx shoves her drink and laptop bag into his arms and fucking sprints away.

"oh, come on! your laptop weighs, like, a million pounds!"

two guys, one in the lead, rush past sy and give chase.

"what the fuck."

=

=

wwx wakes. the whir of his ceiling fan cuts through the fog of his dream. was it a dream? a full life, friends and family, love and war, suffering and pain, eventual happiness -

of course it's a dream. ha, why else would his acoustics lecture find its way into a perfectly fantastic xianxia -

wait.

he spends the next two hours on a wikipedia binge. more than thirty tabs open, all four corners of the screen filled with different windows. taylor series expansion, sure. controllability and observability, fine.

stability modes of aircraft? ... it makes sense, but wwx doesn't remember learning it. and yet... the equations of motion and the stability derivatives - they aren't - they're familiar.

calculus of variations - he was hoping to take that course next semester after he overheard zyx gush about it to her friend. the principles don't make complete sense, not at the moment. but the equations, the fundamentals... he knows them. his dream told him.

wwx knows he's brilliant by all standards, but this is beyond believable.

the third hour is spent humming different tunes into his phone. he knows them, but the dream-addled part of him needs to confirm, because what if - just what if -

fa ru xue, by jay chou.

try me, by foxwedding (this one took a while, without lyrics, the melody obscured by loud ocean waves, liberties taken with a guqin arrangement, but undoubtedly it was this song).

the other ones, he scours the internet.

and finds nothing.

in a daze, he grabs his flute out of its case and plays.

=

lwj wakes. it isn't unusual to get up before dawn. he hears the mourning doves coo outside, but today, his heartbeat is faster than their calm, morning cadence.

dreams were odd, and lwj's were vivid and seared into his memory. the emotional weight behind this particular one was overwhelmingly heavy. he feels each exhale, trying to steady himself, come out of him like a barely-contained sob.

eventually, the day must be met. lwj gets ready and heads to campus.

aural lessons, he suffers through. advanced theory feels stifling - he barely tolerates what the professor lectures.

for his general education course in art history, wwx's presence feels less provoking and more calming today.

"lan wangji!" his former dormmate calls out. "look, i drew you!"

it's meant to be a teasing doodle, one with wwx escaping lwj's strictness by burying him under a pile of textbooks. doodle lwj triggers the avalanche via tripwire.

lwj from a week ago would have burned with indignance at being teased, secret pleasure from wwx's attention, embarrassment from having his unruly feelings exposed, frustration at the lack of ability to comport himself as he desires.

lwj today feels nothing but mirth and fondness. it's like something untangled the messy knot of sentiment inside him, making it clear and obvious. there is no conflict, nothing to feel frustrated over.

"do i survive?"

wwx blinks. "uh - haha, lan-er-gege you're so strong, a few books can't bring you down!"

=

evening orchestra rehearsal comes. breaktime is lax, with the conductor too busy arguing the music director about the piece for this year. it seems that likely, the music director will have the final say and their lineup will change, so no one is eager to commit to something that's temporary.

wwx continues to sound out the half-remember melodies from his dreams. one of them, he hears the oboist hum along as he walks by (that was lwj's brother, wasn't it?) but it was so fleeting, wwx thinks he imagined it.

that one was harder to remember. he switches to the other melody. it elates him to figure out the development, everything slotting into place, that he is joined by strings on his second repeat and doesn't notice until he's halfway through.

wwx looks up and sees lwj slowly lowering his violin. before he can say anything, the conductor barks at everyone to return to their seats and resume rehearsal.

=

for lwj, coming to terms with the state of matters is not turbulent. there are midweek dinners at his uncle's residence, the man being a collector of fine traditional instruments. lwj has never learned anything besides the violin, unlike his brother - no amount of cajoling or demand was able to turn him from single-minded focus.

is it a surprise that touching the guqin on display felt like homecoming, even as the strings catch strangely on his violinist calluses? his left hand taps with confidence, right hand plucks, and a clear harmonic rings out.

=

is it a dream? is it not a dream?

wwx idly marks up his notes as he waits for the lecture hall to fill. a head of pink hair catches his attention.

it has to be a dream, he decides, watching zyx slouch her way towards her preferred seat. a dream with his prickly classmate in a prominent role, differing in every way but their names -

and wwx finds himself automatically moving to sit behind her as usual.

as usual. and it is - he can almost see the ghost of dream-zyx superimposed over this zyx, scrawling away at their notes. the same expression of pensive concentration.

he finds himself leaning over her desk, words spilling from his mouth. and when she gives him the look of dismissal, the memory in his brain desperately claws its way out, demanding he keep her from turning away -

well. blunt, cutting, and needing the last word. bravery when pushed. determined, demanding on oneself, proud. clever.

like two pitches slowly matching frequency, the dissonance in his mind dissipates.

=

it hurts. the echo of the same rejection happening, even dampened through an entire lifespan - the sting of it feels sharp and real.

it is her. a zyx less burdened with propriety, responsibility, able to run as she pleases and act unrestrained... and she runs from him.

"i... didn't say anything offensive, did i, wangji?" lxc asks tentatively.

he didn't. the same cycle of kindness, slowly leaking out until all lwj can see is her back. he remembers when they were children. he remembers when they were in freshman year. quiet discussions in the library. different teas, until she found by some hidden criteria the one to continue sharing with him.

somehow, in some manner, zyx has again found something lacking about him. in their first life, this old hurt was packed away, bygones as bygones.

who has overturned the cupboard of past lives, indeed.

=

"lan zhan."

lwj stops. wwx is standing at the bus stop, moonlight overhead. the two of them stayed late tonight, voluntold by the conductor to clean up for being distracted all rehearsal.

how could lwj be anything but distracted? he knows. he knows. wei ying is right there, in the same room. laughing the same way, same clever fingers on his flute, identical vivacious behavior.

"wei ying."

silence, before wwx breaks into the biggest grin possible to contain on his face. "lan-er-gege!" he sprints and leaps at lwj.

what is thousands of dollars, extrinsic in value, compared to lifespans of love? lwj drops his violin case and catches wwx in his arms.

=

"lan-er-gege, when did you know?"

"rehearsal. the 13th."

"wait. how???"

"figure it out yourself."

=

"i found her," lwj admits. it comes out like a shameful confession.

wwx huffs in amusement. "she doesn't like you much, either, huh?" he stretches in his seat. "you know, lan zhan..."

"... if she really hated you, hated me, there's nothing stopping this zyx from kicking us in the nuts."

lwj can't help but let out a small mirthful sigh. "i suppose."

"if she's the same, and she is - zyx has always been a stubborn mule that needs prodding and convincing."

=

they spend more time together, after that. but as if to make up for the sudden fill of lwj in his life, zyx seems to slip away like a ghost. if not for the fact that she answered the professor calling out names to return exams, wwx would have thought he made her up.

and of course, lwj's stubborn, stalwart faith that she is here.

it is pure chance that they see her walking down the quad path with one of her friends. the two are casual and close, reminding wwx of other-zyx and their relationship with that peacock.

this zyx lets exhaustion show on her face. lets herself be sloppy. feels safe, secure, and free enough to let her inner self show. objectively, it's not as beautiful and gilded as the comportment in that dream-like life.

it's something that wwx of both lives hunted for with persistence.

and it is habit of both lives - when zyx runs, wwx is riled into pursuit. how can he resist, when she keeps making such incredulous and hilarious expressions?

wwx starts running on instinct. "lan zhan! chase!" he doesn't have to look behind to know that lwj follows.

=

=

'fuck fuck fuck i shouldn't have quit track!!' zyx lambasts herself as she runs down the school arboretum path. fuck ticks, she's saving her life here - zyx cuts across the bushes to the other side of the grounds.

sigh. wow. okay, maybe she shouldn't have run because who would have thought those two would start chasing like velociraptors?? fuck, have some composure, assholes!

two figures leap out and tackle her into the river just as she started to catch her breath.

"- fUCK!"

#zyx au's #RT au #oblivious university #mdzyx #svzyx #Anonymous #inquiry #if anyone is wondering: sqh/mbj get their shit together within three days and are too busy sucking face to give a shit about their friends #sy is too busy dealing himself psychic damage for his cringey smutty isekai fantasy to actually pay attention to lbh and lqg #zyx (me) is prone to having really vivid dreams to the point where they just roll with it #wwx figures it out through wangxian.mp3/drunken dream (ch11 dbd) and bc he knows a bunch of stuff he shouldn't but dbd-zyx ends up teaching #lwj quietly accepts it through wangxian.mp3 and the guqin. always a romantic and faithful to the core #the final hurdle is convincing zyx that they're not fucking crazy #they as in wangxian and they as in zyx #(also in this modern life mdzs does not exist) #(also also yes i used to smoke and yes i've quit and yes it's awful for your health) #real talk: in 2015-16 i had this long-ass series of dreams with continuity and whatever about exo bc my friend was obsessed #through peripheral absorption exo funneled into my dreams and whenever i had an update on this dream fanfic #i'd narrate it to my friend #this friend and i both have dreams like this and when we lived together #it was common for me to either crawl into her bed upon waking or her booting my bf out our bed to start talking about last night's dream #(undergrad me was fucking grimey: sports bra + hoodie + basketball shorts + socks + sandals; a real fuckboy) #(it's because i didn't have to attend meetings with people who decide my livelihood yet)