CLOSED.

[laozu]

WHO: Ancient China Wuxia Crew ( Wei Wuxian laozu, Lan Wangji wangxian & Jiang Cheng sandu )
WHERE: Various locations.
WHEN: Various times.
WHAT: A catch-all log for literally everything so we don't spam.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Sexual content, discussions of suicide/suicidal ideation, physical violence, difficulties in communication, etc.

Comments

[wangxian]

[ want is dangerous.

want drives lesser men, drives greater men. and want drives lan wangji, more than lan wangji gives way. to lan wangji, want is his father's seclusion. want is his uncle's pitying eyes. want is his mother, who long gazed upon the outside, who long gazed upon the far doors—

want is a dangerous a thing, but all keep wanting. and lan wangji is foolish and lan wangji is stubborn. and lan wangji has already long lost, his skin bruised with their fingertips, his bed the loose hold of their arms. ]

Have, [ lan wangji tells him, the soft flash of his teeth biting marks into the inside of his lip. since he was a child, he had always been like this: words impossible, his hands clumsy over sentences. love, to lan wangji, had always been a word of doing. it had been his mother's hands combing back his hair, his brother's acquiescing. it had been wei wuxian, the last rays of every sun, the empty spaces that he left forever burning. it had been the brand against lan wangji's chest, every tiny darkness that bred in him, the small hands of lan sizhui's that kept growing.

and it had been this: the mutual sorrows held between themselves, between lan wangji and jiang cheng, that never healed quite right after they had scabbed. and instead, like this, they had stitched themselves in ways strange and new and ugly.

but, they had healed themselves.

and though, for all within him can hold poetry, the mouth shies from he heart. and it too shies as he does, the pale of his ears coloring against the coming dark, the clearness of his eyes turning past jiang cheng's shoulder and toward the purpling of skylines.

he cannot make him understand, not as this. but, he can try. he can try in part, before it is he loses jiang cheng as he once lost wei wuxian. as he once gave to him his heart, only to hear — ]

When does not matter, [ — get lost get lost get lost and he swallows around the lingering anxieties that flock, that tremble just above the surface. and even this, he knows, is not enough. he knows. and yet, to give more when it is not wanted? he cannot. ] Jiang Cheng is Jiang Cheng.

[ and yet, this too is no less sincere. ]

[sandu]

[ jiang cheng is jiang cheng.

when does not matter.

does he mean for it to placate, to soothe? if he were a better man than he is now, perhaps jiang cheng could lessen, as fires would die for want of oxygen. perhaps he could soften, seeing lan wangji as he is now - seeing the way his gaze wavers and fixes itself, the way his words grow thin. but jiang cheng does not see. he chooses not to see. ]

So it does not matter.

Not to you, anyway. You say you have noticed, but why? Why now? [ why, even still? why, when all jiang cheng could do is rip and tear and hurt? when all he could do is not to heal but to layer scars upon scarred flesh?

he can only be as he is now. he can only rage and flicker against the seemingly immovable barrier that lan wangji is. to dash himself into pieces before him, bit by bit. ]

You say it is ridiculous. I know it already. I am not as Wei Wuxian - I know what I am. [ not good enough. not enough of anything. ] Do not tell me you have noticed. If it were not for him, we could have- [ could have been, what they have always been; strangers. ] You could have-

[ suffered so much less. ]

[wangxian]

[ and still, is it foolish to try?

yes, he thinks. perhaps it is. but, lan wangji's heart has always been foolish. it has loved against what all would consider wise of this disciple, this second jade of lan, but it has never lied. it has never has never steered itself to make easier the truth. it has only known the sun of wei wuxian, the newer rains of jiang cheng. it has only known what what it is to burn from the outside in, until no part was left to lan wangji that was not theirs to begin to. and yet, jiang cheng still questions it. and lan wangji knows it to be his own fault.

and lan wangji knows it to be that it is either this, or to suffer the fires of his own wanting. like his mother, in that lonely house — like his father, left forever pining. and no matter how it was the gentians blanketed the mountainside in blues, it had forever been an absence and a haunting. two, left to suffer what it was they built. two, with their two children, never knowing the depth of it.

and still, his mother never wavered. and is father never spoke of it. and lan wangji feels the swell of his own passions, the roots tangled and rotted, and swallows about the way they crowd to form their sounds in ways more useless than meaningful, more meaningful than useless. ]

You are different, [ he starts slowly, as though each dismissal does not make him bleed. and his words are viced in his throat, as if he were to loosen hold on them, they would too wither and die. and like this, he moves his thoughts forward. each painful inch for which he tries, a sort of hollowing. in that cave back then, with wei wuxian — their wei ying — ] That is not bad.

[ it isn't. it never was. and still, he continues. senseless as he knows it to be, it is what jiang cheng must know. ]

Wei Ying is Wei Ying. You are you.

[ jiang cheng, stubborn and waiting for him to awaken. jiang cheng, with tea settled between them. jiang cheng, drunk and loose and prideful nonetheless. ]

Neither of us are him.

[ there is only one wei ying. one, in all the world and the next. and it is the only one he wants. it is the only one that lan wangji will ever want. there is only one such as him. ]

I, [ he starts again, the knit of his brows more visible against the fall of the sun. and still, he tries. he tries. he tries. ] Always saw you. You with him. You — [ you did not see me, and yet I love you no less for it says the ugliest parts of him. and while it is true, he keeps such things in check. there is no reason to hurt, to be hurt more than he is. ] were happy. Hard not to notice.

[ restrained and somehow wild where it is that wei wuxian touched. he was beautiful, in a different way. and while lan wangji did not love him as immediately as wei wuxian, did not love him for as long as desperately — ]

I only know what I have chosen here, [ he finishes, finally. his voice sincere as it is always, its edges clear beyond a single wavering. and he closes his teeth about it, soft. and still, his eyes only skim at jiang cheng's lit edge. ] I know only this one.

[ he only knows only what he knows now. he does not know as jiang cheng does. he does not know and he stays, regardless. he stays and takes in each and every poison, drinks them evenly until all within him numbs. ]