#Is Xian Zun Whitewashed Today? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theyilinglaozus · 3 years ago

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I was tagged by @fismoll7secinv for both a picrew and to reveal my watch & rewatch drama list. Thanks so much lovely! 💖

I won’t be tagging anyone this time around as I’m a little tired right now to flick through my follow list, but if you’d like to have a go yourselves at either of these fun little things, do feel free! I’d love to see them.

The Picrew

Probably the most accurate version right now. Cut and dyed my hair back to brown a little over a month ago, and now it’s got to that stage where it’s blended nicely with the natural red. It’s probably a lot more brown that what the picrew illustrates, but it’s the closest with the limitations of these things. I’m even surprised that the picrew had a jacket like this, as I recently was gifted one of my mums older jackets that ... looks pretty close to this once!

Reveal Your Watch & Rewatch Drama List

Currently Watching:

- Legend of Fei. I’m taking this very slowly but enjoying it greatly! It took me a long time to get to this show, but I’m greatful I’m watching it now and not when it aired. It’s making for a much calmer experience. - Moon Knight I am loving this so far! It’s so intriguing, and Oscar Issac is incredible in the role(s) he’s playing. I get that a lot of people are tired of Marvel, but I’m not, and I really love how with the newer shows and films they’re taking a lot more chances and letting the universe just be plain weird and wonderful, because that’s what comic books are!

Plan to Watch:

- Royal Feast - Falling Into Your Smile I was already planning to watch Falling Into Your Smile after Legend of Fei because it just seems so relaxing and fun, but then the lovely @gusucloud also told me about Royal Feast and - well that just looks both gorgeous with its cinematography and costuming and also, something that is very much of my interests. ... I also just enjoy seeing Xu Kai in more dramas after falling in love with Ancient Love Poetry, so there’s that. - KinnPorsche I’m tentatively waiting on this one to finish airing. I’m really interested in it, but we’ll see how it goes. The fandom alone terrifies me a little bit, but honestly I think it’s just a lot of passion towards something they’ve been waiting a long time for. - Is Xian Zun Whitewashed Today? The very lovely @huaschengs made me aware of this a couple of months ago, and I am desperately wanting to watch it! I'm just struggling to find a version that’s complete with english subtitles right now, so it’s been sitting on my waiting list for some time.

- Demon Girl Honestly, I’m here for Zhang Zhehan and the detective vibes. And now I have a good source to watch it, it’s moved much further up my list!

- Stranger Things season 4 - Obi Wan Kenobi I can’t wait for these two shows to drop next month! Figured I’d add them here too since I’ll definitely be watching them as they air! Rewatching:

Nothing, as of yet. I’ve too much to catch up on and too little time! Have been toying with the idea of an Avatar: The Last Airbender rewatch soon though.

#thank you for tagging! (:#off topic chatter #i forgot to add a few shows like tgcf season 2 and svsss season 2 #but tbh ... i think it's a given that a lot of the animated shows i've been following i'll pick up as they drop.

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henshengs · 5 years ago

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Hunger Games AU Part 9

previous parts

or read the whole thing on ao3

They descend in the elevator. Nie Mingjue stands at Meng Yao’s shoulder, vibrating with arousal and undirected rage, and it’s uncomfortable and a little terrifying, but the way he’s standing between Meng Yao and the Wens is protective and Meng Yao is grateful for it, the sick anxious gratitude of a dog who knows he is about to bite the hand giving him a charitable pat. The elevator descends beneath the garage level, and when the doors open they’re hit with a draft of air that smells of damp and mildew, though the bare walls around them look recently whitewashed. Fluorescent light strips and the gestures of the guards direct them down a corridor to a platform where most of the other competitors already wait. It’s a train platform, Meng Yao realizes after a moment, and then he realizes the train is already there and the others are getting on.

There’s a panic that started building in his stomach when the elevator sunk underground, and it’s increased by the sight of the small train doors and the crush of people. He knows where it comes from, and he tries to breathe through it. The air tastes acrid and strange, and that ought to help- the basement under the club didn’t taste like this- but the alien nature of it all only makes it more unsettling. He wants Mingjue to notice his distress. He wants to be comforted. It’s juvenile nonsense. Why should Mingjue notice anything is wrong, when Meng Yao is only trying harder to project an air of confident serenity? He feels his fingers clench around the leather of his robes.

“Meng-gongzi?”

Briefly he thinks his spiralling mind has summoned up an illusion of Lan Xichen, appearing in front of him like a cool calming snowfall, but a hand touches the back of his arm, and then takes his elbow in what feels like an iron grip. Whoever is styling the Lans, they haven’t let the futility of the exercise prevent them from fully devoting themselves to their task. Lan Xichen is- Lan Xichen looks-

Ethereal, is the only possible word.

Lan Xichen is dressed for his interview, not in the blue tones of the morning’s robes but in the pale pale blue of very pure ice, draped in layers of gauze that sparkle like fresh fallen snow. His guan is a magnificent flowering of silver antlers and dark tree branches. His eyes are kind and concerned.

Meng Yao can’t stop himself from turning his head to look anxiously at Nie Mingjue. Chifeng-zun has taken a step back from Meng Yao, and he’s looking away from Lan Xichen. Meng Yao wishes very much to know what they said to each other, when he left them alone.

“Are you all right?” Lan Xichen asks.

He is, at least, distracting. Meng Yao smiles, eyes lowered, and the familiarity of the action is grounding. “This servant is fine, Lan-gongzi.”

The interior of the underground train is not as luxurious as the one which carried him from Qinghe. There is a loud background roar of machinery and air conditioning. Meng Yao sits on a hard seat between Nie Mingjue and Nie Zonghui, the three of them, for now at least, a united front separate from their Wen escort and stylists. Across the foot and a half of passing space, the Lan brothers sit together on another bench, with their escort and stylists, a small, round young man and two identical-looking women. There’s no sign of the Lan mentor. Meng Yao remembers Su Minshan in the elevator, losing his nerve before reaching the dining hall, and wonders if he is even on the train.

There are guards at the door to each carriage, blank-faced, eyes empty.

With a jolt, the train begins to move. Meng Yao lets the motion of it throw him against Nie Mingjue’s side. Nie Mingjue glances at him, and then quickly away. He puts a hand on Meng Yao’s back, to steady him. Meng Yao tries to estimate the speed of the train, tries to remember each shift in direction, tries to build a mental map. There are no maps of Nightless City in Qinghe. His mental map extends, and extends. Surely the city can’t be that large. Can it? Surely they’re being taken to somewhere on the outskirts. Are they? Is the capital of Wen power simply ten times as vast as any city in Qinghe or Yunmeng?

The train stops. The doors slide open. There’s another fluorescently-lit underground level outside, the same whitewashed concrete walls. But the air is cooler.

Outside, steps lead up, flights of stairs, switchbacking around until the concrete changes to painted paper, until the sounds of climate control fade and are replaced by a distant roar of some vast audience.

There is a waiting room. Comfortable couches, upholstered in red rather than white. The servants are wearing white, though. They stand ready to provide refreshments. They do not speak, or make eye contact.

Nie Mingjue chooses a couch and Zonghui and Meng Yao sit on either side of him. It is uncomfortable for Meng Yao, to be sitting next to Nie Mingjue, instead of standing behind him. He wonders how Zonghui feels about it. Here, Nie Miingjue is not their martial brother, not the head of their sect. He’s their mentor, and they’re the competitors.

The others settle, too. The Lans sit on a couch across from the Nies, their stylists kneeling in front of them to make last minute changes. Wei Wuxian, dressed flashily in black leather, floats across the room to lean over the back of the couch and hand something to Lan Wangji. HIs stylist, a boy who looks unusually young, with an unusually open and expressive face, pulls at his robes and says something pleading. Lan Wangji crumples whatever it is he’s been handed, and lets dust trickle out of his closed fist.

“Wei Wuxian,” a bored voice calls over a speaker, and guards step forward from the doors on the other side of the room.

Wei Wuxian makes a face, and then turns to smile sharply at the guards. Someone else gets up- Jiang Yanli, a delicate lotus in layers of pink and purple. “A-Xian,” she calls, anxious.

“Don’t worry, shijie, it’ll be your turn next,” he shouts back at her, as the guards push him towards the door.

“Wei-gongzi,” the young Jiang stylist calls, and Wei Wuxian calls back, “Don’t worry, I remember!”

The huge screen hanging over the east wall clicks on with a loud hum and crackle. There’s a familiar theme song playing. Meng Yao experiences a moment of violent disorientation. He’s in the Unclean Realm, in Nie Huaisang’s room, sitting on Nie Huaisang’s bed. The competitor interviews are playing through the tinny speaker on Nie Huaisang’s tablet, propped up against a pile of untidy art supplies. Nie Huaisang is lying on the bed, his head in Meng Yao’s lap. Meng Yao is stroking his hair, absently. It is not unlike petting a cat. There was a cat who would scavenge for food in the garbage bins outside the club. Meng Yao brought food for it, when he was sent to sit outside on the steps. Sometimes it allowed him to pet its patchy off-white fur. Sometimes it scratched him. He wasn’t angry about the scratches. Sometimes he hurt people for no good reason, too. And he already had plenty of practice hiding marks on his body from his mother.

He’s brought back to the present by a heavy hand on his arm. He turns his head, and looks into Nie Mingjue’s face.

“Don’t watch,” Nie Mingjue says. “That’s what they want you to do.”

Meng Yao makes himself smile slightly, and nod, eyes downcast. The hand on his arm squeezes a little. “Don’t,” Nie Mingjue says, and Meng Yao is surprised enough to look up again.

Nie Mingjue’s jaw is clenched, his brow wrinkled as he searches for the right words. On the screen, in the corner of Meng Yao’s vision, the host is introducing himself and warming up the audience. “That smile,” Nie Mingjue says at last, and like always, the other sounds of the world fade away when he speaks; Meng Yao couldn’t pay attention to the tv instead even if he wanted to. “You never gave me that smile, before I left. You gave it to other people. Not to me.”

That startles Meng Yao. “I-” he says, and then stops, not having any words with which to finish the sentence. He doesn’t want to have this conversation in public, with more than fifty bored sets of eyes watching them. They never have this kind of conversation in public. They rarely have it in private.

-you’re already very popular with the young ladies. Is there anything you’d like to say to them today?- the screen hisses.

“Everyone looks at you differently, afterward,” Nie Mingjue continues. “Even the people you hoped would think no less of you.”

“Nie-zongzhu,” Meng Yao whisper-shouts.

“Shut up,” someone says. Meng Yao has to turn to see that it’s the girl from Shudong. “Not everyone can read the subtitles. I want to hear.” Her partner, the boy, gives an apologetic shrug.

Nie Mingjue lets out a harsh breath, and then straightens, looking away from Meng Yao. Meng Yao tries to regain his composure. The screen wavers a little before resolving into an elaborate stage, false fire licking around its edges and up the support columns. A man in Wen white and red is interviewing a relaxed and grinning Wei Wuxian. The host seems very pleased with his subject; the crowd is certainly happy, judging by the roars of applause and laughter whenever Wei Wuxian makes a joke.

“So, Wei-gongzi, we all saw you volunteer for the Jiang Sect’s first young master,” the host says. “Can you tell us why you chose to volunteer?”

“I’m sure you know what the Jiang Clan motto is,” Wei Wuxian says.

“‘Attempt the impossible,’” the host quotes with a smile.

“Exactly,” Wei Wuxian says with a firm nod. “How could I, the head disciple of the Jiang Clan, pass up such an opportunity to fulfill our founder’s words?”

“So you stole the opportunity from your martial brother? Isn’t that rather shameless?”

Wei Wuxian grins. “Everyone in the cultivation world can tell you, when it comes to shamelessness I’m at least in the top five,” he says. He stands up, and steps almost into the flickering flames, to address the crowd. “Can any of you think of someone more shameless than me?” he asks, and they roar back, “No!”

“You’re number one, Wei Wuxian!” someone shouts, and Wei Wuxian does an elaborate bow. He looks smaller, on the screen, but older. They’ll probably all look older, Meng Yao realizes. That’s half the purpose of the makeup.

“Jiang Yanli,” the bored voice says over the speaker into their waiting room, and Jiang Yanli stands up quickly. She looks very small, as the guards walk towards her. Her stylist presses something into her hands, and then lingers for a long moment, their hands entwined. Then she steps back, and Jiang Yanli walks towards the door, head held high.

Wei Wuxian doesn’t reappear. There must be a second waiting room on the other side of the stage.

The interviewer is gentle with Jiang Yanli, apparently charmed by her softness and shy quiet. She’s not a pretty girl, but her makeup and styling has transformed her to a near magical degree, and she looks like a softly glowing lotus blossom under the studio lights. “A-Xian is like a brother to me,” she says. “I just want to help him and keep him safe.” The audience coos at this. No one’s going to sponsor Jiang Yanli in hopes of her winning, but they might sponsor her in hopes of keeping her around for a few episodes, making sure her image is emblazoned in the public consciousness so they can make her a brand to sell clothes and perfume and posters.

Meng Yao’s stylist scolds him for streaking his makeup. She dries his eyes and dusts his cheeks with a final layer of something just as the speaker calls out his name.

He stands up. He’s not entirely surprised when Nie Mingjue stands up, too, and draws him into the least-crowded corner of the room, moving close to him for the barest illusion of privacy.

“Meng Yao,” Nie Mingjue says. “I know you’re clever, that’s why I have always valued your advice. But you’ve never been a competitor. I have. I am your mentor. On this occasion, I ask you to take my advice.”

“Of course,” Meng Yao says. “I am honored to receive advice from-”

“Don’t play their games,” Nie Mingjue says. “It isn’t worth it. The more you give, the more they will take. Stay true to yourself, as much as you can. You are a good and honorable person. Hold on to that.”

“Don’t you dare ruin my work again,” Meng Yao’s stylist scolds Nie MIngjue. The guards are close now. Meng Yao pulls Nie Mingjue’s hands off of his arms, one finger at a time. His back aches. It doesn’t want a repeat of the previous night.

“Will Nie-zongzhu wish me luck?” Meng Yao hears himself ask.

“Good luck,” Nie Mingjue says, voice rough, blinking tears out of his eyes.

The guards each put a hand on one of Meng Yao’s shoulders, and he goes with them, walking fast to avoid being pushed. He doesn’t turn around; doesn’t look back. The door opens. Beyond is a corridor with mirrored walls. He avoids meeting the eyes of his reflections, as an infinite array of Meng Yaos walk down the corridor to the door on the other side.

That door opens, and beyond it is light and a roaring of sound.

#the hunger games au #nieyao #3zun #meng yao #my fic

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