#ofwindsweptpines

[archivedsizhui]

@ofwindsweptpines

Baba <3

[wonderstxrs]

        ‘’Eh-- just a second,’’ Usually Wei Wuxian would be the first, or at least second if not the first, on bed demanding cuddles and attention. But he didn’t want to RUSH himself this time. He wanted to do a good job, to do them justice. Which was already a hard feat, but he had fun drawing Xue Yang and Lan Zhan - together, in each others arms. He’d seen the view several times now, and the image still clear on his mind was not put on paper. Looking at it with a growing, fond smile, he hums to himself in satisfaction.

‘‘Ah, Lan Zhan ! Xue Yang !’‘ && there it was, Wei Ying was up and about again. Making sure to lift the drawing carefully so he wouldn’t ruin it while making his way over to the bed. ‘‘ Take a look. ‘‘ he was excited to show them, despite just as much craving their touch. He’d already made up his mind that he wanted to get in between them. But first things first. ‘‘ What do you think? ’‘

@cxndybxstxrd & @ofwindsweptpines​ ; poly ship verse.

[aeipathic]

@ofwindsweptpines sent: Because I love you! (For Wei Ying)

     - from this meme​

   it isn’t a shout, precisely -- lan zhan does not shout. and yet it seems to ring around the cave anyway, those four words, that declaration, snapped into the air with no patience left.

    it shuts wei wuxian up.

    the argument -- just more of the same. always more of the same, except wei wuxian can’t...he can’t, anymore, can’t dodge and smile and twist his way out of lan zhan’s questions, his misplaced concern. wei wuxian is tired, worn thin, slowly decaying in this place that has been eating him out from the inside since he first fell. it’s hard enough to keep a good face up for the wens, to duck wen qing’s severe, worried gaze, to smile for a-yuan. it’s as much energy as he has, doing that, keeping them safe, from both the outside world and from the things inside him. he can’t -- he can’t have lan zhan here too, pressing at his sore points, reminding wei wuxian of all the things he can’t have.

    and so: their dance. lan zhan reaching out, wei wuxian pulling away. it’s just a scratch. a scratch that will take too long to heal and hurt and hurt, but that doesn’t matter. lan zhan can’t help, lan zhan can’t get too close. it’s all that wei wuxian can keep straight in his head, some times: just don’t let them too close. lan zhan asking to help. wei wuxian pretending he doesn’t need it. asking why, why, why are you here, why did you come, why won’t you just stop, why do you care what happens to me, lan zhan, why does it matter--

    and then. this. and wei wuxian was dizzy already, drained from his exertions, keeping the resentful energy at bay, locking it away, siphoning it up inside him and holding it there where it can’t hurt anyone but him. he is dizzy and for a second he thinks he hasn’t heard right. that he has, maybe, hallucinated the last ten seconds of his life. maybe more. you can never be quite sure.

    he laughs.

    a short, sharp, disbelieving thing, born from incomprehension. that doesn’t -- lan zhan doesn’t -- is he joking? is this how lans joke?

    he laughs because he might cry, otherwise. but lan zhan’s face doesn’t change, and the laughter peters out, and wei wuxian is standing there empty and confused. there is a hole in his chest and it aches and aches. lan zhan has reached inside him and scraped something out, and he doesn’t -- doesn’t know what to --

    “lan zhan,” he says, faint, the laughter slipping off his face and leaving an open uncertainty. “what?”

[cascadingsorrows]

ofwindsweptpines said:

hunger .   give  my  muse  something  to  eat  /  drink . (For Papa Lan pls and thank you ;A; whatever age)

hunger .   give  my  muse  something  to  eat  /  drink . 

Some would say that in another universe he was a deadbeat dad riddled in his guilt to face his sect and his sons, but that was another him problem. The him now paraded around with his sons at his sides beaming proud papa aura. Although he had moments that his guilt towards the way his family began was overwhelming and he forced himself to work for hours at end to drown the angry emotions within him. 

Today was like other days where he thought too much and in returned pushed those around him further away, until a pair of hands tugged on his sleeves and it jolted him away from the pile of paperwork he was crafty ignoring. 

He turned to see hs youngest son looking at him expectedly, eyes that blinked at him as he held out a small basket with oddly shaped treats inside. The elder felt his chest swell in pride as the guilt faded back into the darkness. “A-Zhan, were you and A-Huan in the kitchen again?” he didn’t wait for an answers as he accepted the basket with a smile. “Thank you little one, now shall we have some snacks and tea? I can’t wait to try A-Zhan’s cooking!” he laughed whole-heartedly as he reached out to place a gentle hand on top of his son’s head. 

[tiaowu-han]

a starter for @ofwindsweptpines

This was starting to be troublesome. Once, Wei Ying had taken for granted the ease of access he once enjoyed in and out of Gusu. A simple rite of passage, a formality then, now proved to be a major hurdle now. Already, he was running out of options.

Security had tightened considerably since he had been there. Or, perhaps it was because he had been there. They no longer made spare talismans for one to ferret for a rainy day. Individuals, including impressionable juniors were under strict orders not to part with their rites under strict penalties. Wei Ying reckoned that it would have been easy to lift one off a said junior, but something about that approach did not sit well. It was not as though these youth had anything to do with him, nor did they deserve undo punishment.

Well, really, neither did Lan Zhan, yet, there Wei Ying was, quietly lowering himself from the branch of a tree which overlooked that former classmate’s room, silent as the grave. Already, he had attempted this one. Now, the need was more dire. The longer he was there, the more troublesome it became—his identity could be discovered. His paths were more likely to cross with Jiang Cheng. All the hurts and pains of a once dead past threatened to thrust themselves into him once more.

And perhaps the world was better off with the Yiling Patriarch’s passing.

Carefully, Wei Ying cracked the sliding door, peeking inside. The room was quiet, peaceful even. It was by this he knew Lan Zhan was near. It was the same aura that trickled into his uncertain self, even now. Come back to Gusu with me, it said. Other times, it whispered, it does not have to be this way. He scanned the room to pinpoint Lan Zhan’s form in his bed, waiting some moments longer before easing the door back.

He descended as a ghost, meticulous, touching nothing but that was necessary about the room. Not here. Not there—perhaps with his clothing? Easing a drawer of the dresser, his pale fingers delicately carded through the articles, careful not to disturb what was there. As though something in the pristine folds and immaculate preservation was precious.

Untouchable.

[vermilionagainstsnow]

@ofwindsweptpines​ stated  it’s good that you have friends that you can lean against

He was surprised by the sentiment to say the least and he quickly dipped his head to Hanguang-Jun in return he didn't know quiet where to look. It was odd to have someone not legal required to care for you taking interest in your well being and Jin Ling was still coming to grips on that. He had friends now and that was something he had lacked before. Still it was daunting the tasks ahead of him. He knew that there was going to be times when he didn't know the proper answer or he said the wrong thing. Jingyi had a big mouth and Jin Ling had a big mouth and a temper, so there was that inner part of the young Jin that was sure he would say the wrong thing and everyone would decide he was to screwed up to be friends with.

"It is." he agreed as he peeked up through the full bangs that fell in his face to look at the luminous man. "I just---I have made so many mistakes already." he offered stoic in his stance he still held the ridged, regal bearing that echoed his father. Though there was a softness to his feature and the way he spoke that was very much his mother. He'd inherited her heart, her smaller frame and stature and the bullies never let him forget that either. "One day I will say the wrong thing and they will likely realize that they made a mistake being anywhere near me." he knew how it sounded. He was down on himself but he was trying to be honest about it. “I am not good with people.” he admitted aloud.

"Every since the Temple.." he voice broke and his eyes stung. "I have not been able to sleep properly. Sizhui sends me a tea that helps me sleep he's support its like he's made of it or for it. Jingyi has been...well...Jingyi but you know that's kinda reassuring too. Zizhen is close enough to visit regularly and he does check in on me..but...I am afraid I will loose them" he lowered his gaze back to his shoes at the hem of the expensively embroidered robe.Scoffed at himself it sounded pathetic to his own ears. "Can I ask you...how you do it ?" he spoke as though asking for some hidden secret or Sect technique. "How do you lead and make others want to follow you ?" 

Much like the second jade he had a problem with people, being touched by them. Having them in his personal space and really just having to be around them. He had never wanted to be like that. However, he saw the struggles in it and he wondered if Hanguang-Jun had the same issue. Jin Ling did not have the grace and noble air that the Lan Sect seemed to have in spades.

[luanzangxgang]

DIBBLY DIBBLY DIBS!

I DIBBLY USE IT BACK TO YOU! <3 forever and ever my friend!

[evcryopeneye]

@ofwindsweptpines​​ liked for a starter

Well this was. Uncomfortable.

Feng Wu didn’t know what to do or say, the silence gave room for over analysis. For her brain to start working out a hundred ways this situation could go. A hundred ways for it to backfire. A hundred different exits to get out. Soon enough, it was paralysing. What was she meant to do? Was she meant to simply sit here in silence and wait for him to bring up the elephant in the room, or was it her job to do that?

Protocol messed things up. It was too deep and confusing for her, she tried her best but it was overwhelming at times, in the little house on the edge of the border, none of this had mattered. Demoted from princess to commoner, memory gone, none of it mattered. All that had, was survival. Make money. Feed the family. Keep the wind and rain off them. Here none of that mattered, despite the cold life was comfortable - she wondered if they realised how comfortable?

“So…” Feng Wu began, dragging the word out. “You know?”

[goldencored-arc]

@ofwindsweptpines​ ♥’d

“Hanguang-jun.”

Footsteps light, he’s quick to catch up, to offer a small salute. “I have something for you to give to Wei-gongzi.” In the months since he’s become interim sect leader, he still hasn’t been able to face his once-idol directly. How can he, knowing that he tried to sacrifice himself so that Wei-gongzi could live and breathe again?

Regardless, he holds out a decorative wooden box for Lan Wangji to take. “I believe these belong to him. I doubt anyone will notice them missing.” His half brother’s treasure room was currently a mess— the perfect opportunity for Xunayu to reunite Wei-gongzi with his manuscripts.

[baijingshen]

what’s a weird headcanon you have for each of your muses?

Multimuse Mun Memes

WEIRD HEADCANONS are actually super hard to think of if they don’t pop into your head at 4:17 am. I guess some of those aren’t weird as much as they’re just random~

Wen Ning: 100% influenced by two (!) separate fanfics I read in which Wen Ning used to help with the laundry in Qishan for some reason (lol), in particular he fixed up holes and torn robes (---essentially someone just shoved clothes into his hands and he was too polite to point out that he’s not a servant and this isn’t his job), and ended up stitching little embroidery animals into people’s sleeves. But didn’t tell them about it. So Wen Zhuliu randomly discovered a little bunny head on the inside of his sleeve at some point and had no clue where it came from. Golden headcanon.

Nie Mingjue: Mingjue tried growing more of a beard once, around the chin as well, but after Huaisang pointed out that he looked like their father he shaved it.

Jiang Cheng: Cheng is equal parts grumpy and content when his food turns cold because he can’t get to eating it right away, because one the one hand he would have preferred hot food, on the other hand it gives him an odd sense of achievement that he was so busy and productive that he couldn’t even get to lunch/dinner in time before it turned cold.

Wen Ruohan: Ironically the Sun Lord can’t stay in the sun for too long because he’s got a bit of an allergy. So he always wears long sleeves/robes, even if it’s really warm outside.

Lan Xichen: Xichen has a habit of making tea and forgetting all about it, so he almost always drinks cold tea.

Nie Huaisang: Huaisang enjoys the idea of a wing kink.

Xiao Qing: While the picture of grace and elegance at any given moment during the day, Xiao Qing loses that completely when she falls asleep. She makes blanket burritos, hangs half off the bed, and snores.

Wei Wuxian: Wei Wuxian can lick his elbow. You know, if anyone can it’s WWX.

Song Lan: Song Lan is a messy eater, that’s the real reason why he prefers wearing dark clothes.

Lan Wangji: Wangji gave names to all the pet bunnies and he can tell them apart as well. Yonggan is his favorite because she always tries new food first and doesn’t shy away when someone approaches. She reminds him of Wei Ying in that way.

[indulgentia]

from  this  𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄  »  @𝒐𝒇𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔  𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅 ：

“Are you okay?” (For Jin Ling)

Realization  gets  him  startled  in  both  disbelief  and  anger:  Once  again  he’s  made  a  fool  of  himself  in  front  of  other,  especially  in  front  of  Gusu  Lan’s  head,  much  to  his  dreadful  shame.  This  strange  sense  of  obedience  lingers  within  the  young  Junior  Cultivator,  strong  enough  at  least  to  suppress  his  usual  brattiness  and  rebelliousness  from  him  and  prevent  some  captious  assertive  from  aggressively  being  shot  out  his  lips  ━━━━━━━━━  for  the  time  being.

❛❛ I’m  fine  ━━━━━━  ! ❜❜    Youthful  features  twist  in  pain  mid-sentence  as  the  hand  reaches  for  his  shoulder.  Pressure  increases  inside  his  jaw,  teeth  grinding  against  each  other  in  a  desperate  attempt  to  remain  minimally  composed.    ❛❛ Hanguang-Jun  doesn’t  need  to  worry.  I  have  no  intention  to  be  a  dead  weight. ❜❜

[thememcry]

Muse = 4/10, except when wielding a folding chair. Total power move.

Mun = 4/10, except when drinking cups of sweat. Total power move.

      impressions of the mun / muse.

      very true about aerith. except when she’s wielding a folding chair & has a very stressed out man to sexually frustrate during a board meeting*. i fixed it for you.

      can you. let. the cup. of sweat. die. already. god damnit.

      god damnit hmr.

[aeipathic]

👀 - what’s your role play guilty pleasure?

munday. || accepting. || @ofwindsweptpines​

hm this is a tough one. bc idk about guilty? but, i mentioned this in the notes of a meme i reblogged recently, but i definitely have a thing for characters pushing themselves to exhaustion, in any kind of media (so, you know, wwx relentlessly searching for a cure for jc in episodes 17-18 was a fun time for me), and also just like, when characters are woozy/have to conveniently faint into someone’s arms/you get the idea. idk! i just like it! the vulnerability of it all! so rping stuff like that is always a treat for me. possibly i take too much joy in writing characters who could collapse at any moment.

[xiwangri]

Continued from x || @ofwindsweptpines​

Wei Wuxian is more than aware of the fact that he could have subdued that faster, but Chenqing had been knocked from his hands. While he had gone at it with his sword (that he was actually carrying with him this time around) , it ultimately was something that was a useless action—one without a golden core could do little with a sword and thus, he'd ended up scrambling for his flute the first opportunity he had got.

Which had landed them within this situation. You leave yourself open for one moment and of course, whatever you’re fighting takes advantage of that.  It’s something that makes the tips of his ears go pink when Lan Zhan says it.  Careless and they both know it.

Especially when he catches sight of that look.

“I’ll be more careful next time.”  He doesn’t offer an explanation, doesn’t offer much more than a childish sulk though it’s short-lived as he resists the urge to squirm at the feel of the paste on his wound.

The word “Cold” is quickly mumbled underneath his breath as he digs his nails into his palms in order to keep himself from squirming too much. It does little good, but he manages to keep himself still for the most of it. He does blink a little at the next thing WangJi says, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“Shameless, Lan-er-gege. I thought you’d at least take me out to dinner first before asking me to take off clothes.”

Regardless of his words, Wei Wuxian would slip his arms out of his sleeves, leaving the upper half of his body bare. 

[luanzangxgang]

It had been a few days, perhaps even as long as a week, since he watched Lan Zhan’s back as he played his flute for him. There was hesitation between them, perhaps only on his own side for he couldn’t stop the guilt from eating at him. For as long as he’d saved the Wens, though he knew it was the right thing to do and he would do it again were the choice up to him, there were promises he broke, people he hurt and now he held the guilt of harming his Zhiji. Even though it was Wangji’s decision, even if he was against it for his sake, he was still at the center of his decision. A part of him was terrified because of the regret he was sure Lan Zhan would face. He had to live with being the reason for a lot of grief. Lotus Pier was his fault. Jiang Cheng losing his core was his fault. People fearing him was his fault, those people that died on Qiongqi Path was his fault. No matter where he went, those that he got close to would eventually suffer. He seemed to simply have that influence. Therefore the idea of Wangji regretting his decision and being consumed by hate for him, he felt it was a legitimate fear. Yet... What could be done about it? It was already done... Wasn’t it?

On the road back to the burial mounds, Wuxian had an inner debate for a long while. He was so quiet and lost in thought that in the back of his mind he knew he worried Wen Ning but even as the other called to him, Wuxian didn’t answer. Back on the grounds, his eyes instantly fell to the waterfall of black locks that belonged to none other than Lan Zhan. Unable to stop himself, he smiled. Somehow, even through the dirt and hardship of living on a grave site, Wangji managed to keep himself clean and proper. He seemed distracted with a few chores but Wuxian’s smile faded as he walked over to him. 

“Lan Zhan.“ He said, his voice far from normal as he waited for the other to look at him. For a moment he hesitated before he let a smile form. “Come with me?” He asked him but didn’t wait for an answer before he lead him into the Demon-Slaughtering Cave. @ofwindsweptpines​

[baijingshen]

@ofwindsweptpines​ cont. (x)

༺🌕༻ The night air was chill on his skin, wondering for a moment if it was really so cool out, or if the heat of frustration made the atmosphere feel stark around the collar. He held Jiang Cheng by the back of his own white, crisp training robes, marching him across the path through the pebbles, a few bouncing against his heels as the other boy staggered. The sounds of protesting voices, not daring to yell too loudly and seal themselves a fate worse than what was already in store for them, died out behind them as they rounded the corner of the guest houses, finally out of sight of Wuxian and the others who could barely keep themselves upright enough to properly argue in Jiang Cheng’s favor.

 Lan Wangji would only stop when he felt the other wrench himself from his grasp in a fit of defiance that quite honestly surprised him, turning to look at the boy who had been caught drinking with the others. Wangji had been overwhelmed by disappointment to see it, and maybe a touch of jealousy at how carefree they all seemed, laughing and rolling around on the floor together. He recalled a time many years ago when Jiang Fengmian had visited with his son, the self-same boy who had just wrested himself from his grip, and Zhan had watched Cheng spend tireless hours rolling around on the ground with the boy’s newest puppy — a gift from his father and a companion during his trip. Cheng had invited him to play, and they had enjoyed nearly a week of one another’s company, chatting, teaching the pup amusing tricks, and becoming fast friends where Wangji had sorely lacked in them. Perhaps it had been foolish of him to think that Jiang Cheng would return to him after so many years, still that bright-eyed, excitable boy, accompanied by a beautiful, majestic, well-trained dog at his side instead of a cocksure young upstart of a brother. Perhaps it had been foolish of him to think they would still be friends even now.

 He’d realized just how foolish when he’d gone to Cheng’s room to greet him properly after nearly a fortnight of barely having spoken a word — he was always flanked by the other boys, and that head-strong, showboating adopted brother of his, and when Wuxian wasn’t hanging himself on Jiang Cheng’s shoulders he was tormenting Wangji and disrupting his studies. It seemed that Cheng was of a different mind now, making trouble for himself and others, and had no time for old, fleeting friendships.

 Wangji had been about to grasp for Cheng’s wrist when the other jerked away, his expression not one of debauched sheepishness, or shame as was most often the case with disciples that were taken to be punished, but anger — real, unbridled anger. Jiang Cheng’s cheeks were flushed as he began to rant, piecing Wangji apart with his accusations of false friendship and empty promises. He lamented over piles of letters sent and received between them over the years that he’d thought spoke more of their friendship than whatever this was. He expressed his frustration at Wuxian and how the boy never let him get a word in edgewise, doomed to live in his brother’s shadow. He declared that coming here had been one big dumb mistake.

 Wangji got the uncanny sense that he was staring into a mirror, hearing all the same words that echoed in his head repeated to him nearly verbatim despite seeing another’s face looking back at him. Could it be that this whole time Jiang Cheng had been trying just as hard to reconnect with him as Wangji had the other? Had they both been played as utter fools, marionette’d around by Wei Wuxian who pulled the strings, ringmaster in all situations? Jiang Cheng had said nothing of his brother’s pervasiveness in his letters, only speaking favorably of him when he said anything at all — perhaps not wishing to upset his parents if either of them read the letters prior to sending. How could Wangji have known the other felt such a way, stifled and ineffectual, backed into a corner? Pressured to play along or be cast out?

 The boy’s voice carried through the empty courtyard, and Wangji considered silencing him for a moment but thought that would be in poor taste considering all the other had expressed with such earnest fervor. He would have to quiet him somehow or one of the elders would learn of the boys late-night transgressions soon enough. On a whim he grasped the front of Cheng’s robes, feeling them go taut as the boy started to take a step back, but Wangji yanked him up mid-step, teetering him off balance as lips pressed firm yet softly against the boy’s own, not relenting until he felt the heated diatribe die on his tongue.

 Jiang Cheng tasted of heady wine, and for a moment Lan Wangji’s head swam with the giddiness of second-hand intoxication, imagining for a moment that this was what it might feel like to have been laughing there on the floor with the rest of them, wine thick on his lips. But then he remembered that he himself had broken a very real rule of his own: no promiscuity was permitted in Cloud Recesses.

 His lips broke from Jiang Cheng’s quickly, gazing down into his eyes with a breathless pause before feeling the need to explain everything away.

 “I’m sorry, you were getting loud. Your punishment would have been worse had I let you…-” he trailed off sheepishly before repositioning to explain things properly. “I tried to come and talk to you. Many times. It was never right,”  hand unwinding from the front of the other’s robes and letting the male regain his footing. ༺🌕༻

          For days he’d waited for a chance to talk to Lan Wangji, to finally have a moment of peace for just the two of them to exchange a proper hello and ideally a few words. Torturous days filled with rather dry lectures and growing frustration over Wei Wuxian’s misbehavior and the resulting dent in the reputation of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, as well as the exponentially growing impression that Lan Wangji was just as DISINTERESTED in engaging further with either one of them as his uncle. It felt like something was taken from Jiang Cheng that he cherished like a treasure and all he could do was stand there and watch it slip through his fingers helpless to stop it.

For days he waited, and now that Lan Wangji was finally here it was this evening of all evenings and Jiang Cheng was drunk and making the worst possible impression he could. Not to mention that, judging by the way he was dragging him away like a misbehaved child, Wangji clearly intended to hold him fully responsible for Wei Wuxian’s shenanigans - which Jiang Cheng didn’t fully want to absolve himself from, but refused to take the fall for on his own. It was his mistake for participating, but it was his brother’s fault for getting them into this mess in the first place; and with that RIGHTEOUS ANGER Jiang Cheng tried to pull himself free from Lan Wangji’s grasp, a string of complaints immediately coming over his lips in a volume that held no regard for the late hour.

He spoke in a rush, fueled by his disappointment and seemingly endless frustration that had been boiling inside him ever since they came to Gusu and now finally found an outlet. He couldn’t have stopped if he wanted to and said things he would surely regret later on, but the alcohol in his system and the raw feeling in his chest put there by Wangji’s presence shattered all his remaining inhibitions. There was more he wanted to say, more he struggled to express, more he finally wanted to have off his chest - but his words were cut short and just like that all that anger and frustration melted away under the warmth of Lan Wangji’s lips.

The kiss didn’t last nearly as long as Jiang Cheng wanted it to but it still left him a MESS. Heart hammering in his chest, head void of all thoughts besides the memory of Wangji’s lips against his he couldn’t do anything except stare for a few moments. Wangji was talking, apologizing, explaining, but all Jiang Cheng could think was please do that again. As the reality of what just happened slowly seeped into his brain his cheeks turned hot, taking on a faint pink shade. Lan Wangji had not forgotten about him. Lan Wangji did not hate him. Lan Wangji had wanted to see him as much as the other way around.

LAN WANGJI HAD JUST KISSED HIM.

     “I.. thought you.. don’t want to see me,” Jiang Cheng said, his voice a lot quieter then. He fought the urge to reach up and touch his lips, the kiss still tingling on them even while it started feeling more like a dream with every passing minute.      “I’m...” Ironically now that he was given the chance, Jiang Cheng didn’t know what to say, too stunned by the sudden turn of events. “I.. hoped we’re still FRIENDS..”