Balls are pointless. They’re nothing more but a high class match making event and Wei Ying despises them.
In fact, he would rather spend time studying than attend tonight’s royal ball.
The suitors are all pretentious and attempt nothing but
flattery to make up for their lack of personality.
But Wei Ying had no say considering it is his house who is hosting the ball.
Although, he was allowed one input—tonight’s theme:
A masquerade ball.
—
Wei Ying’s reputation is no secret, especially that of his appearance.
However, not many have actually laid eyes on him and he intends to keep it that way.
Many already flock to him due to his status, he doesn’t need more mindless men making conversations over his looks.
Animals in human skins, that’s what they are. Not true princes.
That night, he wears a silver mask—one that reflects the glow of the moon. It’s shields his eyes and sits on his nose.
Only his lips are left revealed, an alluring attribute which is both tempting and revering.
His body is draped in the richest of red, embodying every curve
and dip—accentuating his figure. Black lace is embroidered onto the ends of his gown. They cuff his wrist and give the illusion of a black shadow as he trails along the palace tiles.
Though he opposes these events, it does not mean he will deny its luxuries.
When he encircles the ballroom floor, eyes follow him.
Seas of heads turn to peek—hoping to get a glimpse of the distinguished prince.
Wei Ying knows, his presence lingers an aromatic charm—making men thirst for more but unable to touch.
He retires near a bay window
that overlooks the royal garden. It’s not an isolated space but gives him enough room to be alone.
A few suitors have come to engage in conversation, but all are turned away and rendered speechless.
Wei Ying may radiate in beauty, but what he excels in are his wits and
remarks.
A cup of wine swirls in his hand, a synchronized rhythm to musicians’ tune.
As he raises to take a drink, a shadow glistens on the surface of his glass.
Wei Ying’s head moves in a subtle—minuscule—way. One which allows him to see but not give off the
impression that his curiosity has been caught.
Coincidentally, the man’s attention pans towards him as well.
Silver stars clash with amber hues, a jarring yet flawless complement.
The man wears a golden mask that is as striking as the sun. Unlike Wei Ying’s it shields
only the right side of his face. The left side remains completely bare—exposing his features in all its brilliance.
From the definition of his cheek bones, down to the precision of his jawline.
A seductive yet brazen appeal.
Above his head, sits a luminescent guan. It’s
not ostentatious but it holds grand symbolism—one Wei Ying has seen before.
He’s dressed in white tinted with shades of blue, replicating delicate strokes of azure on porcelain.
It hugs tight around his upper body, giving definition to his shape while the silk below his waist
flow like gentle ripples on water.
“I should consider myself lucky for having a prince from Gusu here at my ball.” Wei Ying jests.
Though his expression remains solemn, an amused glint flashes across the prince’s eyes.
“It is I, who is lucky to have been graced by
his highness’ presence.”
“Oh?” the wit from his answer sparks something inside of Wei Ying. “Were you hoping to catch my attention?”
“It is not something I hope for, though I do not oppose the thought.”
Something inside Wei Ying entices him to draw closer.
He takes a few strides so they are a good distance apart before asking, “What is it that you are hoping for then?”
Tilting his head, the Prince of Gusu says, “I hope to be granted the opportunity for a dance.”
Presenting an open palm, he utters. “May I?”
For once, the dubious feelings evade Wei Ying. The cautious thoughts flee in the presence of the prince.
Slipping his hand into his, Wei Ying nods. “In return, may I be given your name?”
A soft smile curves onto the prince’s lips as he answers, “Lan Zhan.”
—
All eyes are focused on them as they take place in the center of the ballroom.
It is a rare sight to behold. Wei Ying and Lan Zhan are like the sun and the moon—dancing under a shared sky.
And even though, a hundred individuals stand in the room, it felt as if there was no
one else but the two of them.
They get lost in the music and movement. Guiding each other in synch as harmony and melody.
Neither dares to look away.
Wei Ying melts under the gentle yet ferocious gaze of Lan Zhan. His body sways and yields to the latter’s touch—yearning
for its warmth each second it’s gone.
Insane, inexplainable, and incredulous are the words floating in his head.
Whatever it is, Wei Ying finds himself craving more. For the first time in his life, he is both wanted and wants.
Lan Zhan is sure to make that known, reassuring
him in body, mind, and heart.
💕//END//💕
phewww this royalty au is a bit longer than expected and I actually wanted to add more but ahhhhh!! 😅 brain rot bubbling
perhaps a full face reveal scene 👀
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A few months ago, Wei Ying had passed out on his way to school. He doesn't remember what happens after that, only recalling when he had woken up hours later in a hospital bed.
The nurses tell him a young gentleman wearing the same school uniform brought him in.
There are no further details provided by them that could help Wei Ying figure out who had brought him in. But he did notice the uniform jacket left behind by the student. On its pocket was a blue embroidered cloud.
///////
"Excuse me."
The young man peer from the book he's
reading. He doesn't say anything and stares blankly.
Clearing his throat, Wei Ying continues. "You're Lan Wangji, right?"
A beat, then a deadpan, "yes."
Wei Ying internally deflates, relieved out of worry he may have been wrong. "About four months ago, I was took the rail
I tweeted this idea a while back but never finished. I just want to add and say (Wangxian x the myth):
Wei Ying finally recalls his memories after entering the tomb of the great Lan dynasty.
The second he steps inside, he's greeted by a blade to the neck, held by
the one and only—Lan Zhan.
"Who are you and how did you find this place?"
Wei Ying didn't need to utter anything, he spares but a glance and that's all it takes for the sword to fall.
It clanks upon impact, hitting the stoned path underneath their feet.
"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan murmurs in a swell of disbelief. "Is that really you?"
But before Wei Ying can conclude anything, he swept into Lan Zhan's embrace. Desperation seeps through Lan Zhan's arms as he holds Wei Ying close, voiding any form of space.
Thinking about Wei Wuxian who's an avid buyer and all time admirer of Lan Wangji's rabbit and bunny crochets.
Every time Lan Zhan launches a new design or product, Wei Ying is the first to buy.
He stumbled onto the page by accident which then spiraled into
a black hole of compulsive purchases. It was hard not to, the crochets were undeniably cute and so was Lan Zhan—if not cuter.
By chance one day, Lan Wangji hosts a mini giveaway—a personalized crochet bunny with no restrictions on size.
Wei Ying squealed upon seeing the
post, thus sparking his pursuit in winning the giveaway.
But his endeavors only end in disappointment when Lan Zhan announces the name of the winner, who is obviously not him. Trying to shrug off the disheartenment because really, why would he be upset over something so silly?