[ jiang cheng's words are harse, careless and wei wuxian smiles despite them; a vast, empty little thing that doesn't quite reach his eyes, that threatens his decaying mind with the knowledge that he knows he will die here on the land that gave him power and commanded sacrifice in return. he finds it difficult to understand people those days, especially those who he'd always loved as his own - a form of face blindness, where he thinks deeply about what they can mean by their words, their expressions.
he is paranoid, his reaction to the news of jiang yanli is a testament to that. the sickly, insidious he questions jiang cheng's motivations for actually visiting are further proof. even still, he relaxes onto the balls of his feet when his shidi reassures him that she's fine, that she's unharmed and not made entirely unhappy. it leads to him reaching down for jiang cheng's hands, left drifting free at his sides, grasping them in his own - pale, thin - as he leans into his space and smiles broadly. ]
Those foxes, [ he scoffs: ] What do they know of what we're capable of? Does the thought make you unhappy, Jiang Cheng? If it makes you unhappy, I'll do everything in my power to resist it. I could do it easily, without hurting shijie - there's a lot that I've learned over my time spent here.
[ he wheels, one hand still fastened to jiang cheng's wrist, half-hauling him through the burial mounds towards the den where he's made his home, his office, his little studio of dark energies and malicious studies. it takes no time at all, once he truly leads, to bring jiang cheng within and find him a comfortable seat, carven stone with layers of cloth and fur thrown over it for cushioning. he lights candles, raising the atmosphere from one of oppressive darkness ( like a beast, ready to strike ) to a comfortably-lighted nest. in here, he resembles the carrion birds so starkly and finds his way to jiang cheng, fluttering and preening just like one. ]
no subject
he is paranoid, his reaction to the news of jiang yanli is a testament to that. the sickly, insidious he questions jiang cheng's motivations for actually visiting are further proof. even still, he relaxes onto the balls of his feet when his shidi reassures him that she's fine, that she's unharmed and not made entirely unhappy. it leads to him reaching down for jiang cheng's hands, left drifting free at his sides, grasping them in his own - pale, thin - as he leans into his space and smiles broadly. ]
Those foxes, [ he scoffs: ] What do they know of what we're capable of? Does the thought make you unhappy, Jiang Cheng? If it makes you unhappy, I'll do everything in my power to resist it. I could do it easily, without hurting shijie - there's a lot that I've learned over my time spent here.
[ he wheels, one hand still fastened to jiang cheng's wrist, half-hauling him through the burial mounds towards the den where he's made his home, his office, his little studio of dark energies and malicious studies. it takes no time at all, once he truly leads, to bring jiang cheng within and find him a comfortable seat, carven stone with layers of cloth and fur thrown over it for cushioning. he lights candles, raising the atmosphere from one of oppressive darkness ( like a beast, ready to strike ) to a comfortably-lighted nest. in here, he resembles the carrion birds so starkly and finds his way to jiang cheng, fluttering and preening just like one. ]
Would you want to marry me, Jiang Cheng?
[ no hesitation, no shame in asking ]