( He's at cross purpose with himself, once his arms are freed of Qingshan, once he's watching Lan Zhan in his linens and Qingbai and Qingshan nestled in his arms, one fussing for attention and the righteousness of play with the second, shoving his face further and further into Lan Zhan's shoulder. Watches, pinpricks of kitten claws sinking slow and effortlessly into his heart, one after another.
He'd gladly offer that up, for the moments of softened peace like these; for their slow increase, and for the warm oddity of gratitude and not just the sharp edges they both wear brushing against each other and not quite fitting right, off the battlefield.
Wei Wuxian doesn't have to think about his concept of family, or his security in seeing those he cares for being safe and cleaned and together in a moment that could be broken at any moment. He doesn't think about that, either, beyond the reflexive twitch of his fingers when he wants to place another ward, one more warning, one more turning away of all that is dark and ill and violent in the world, to guard each small sanctuary as he finds it.
For a moment, the feeling that settles over him is contentment, mellowing in the marrow of his bones. No more debts to be paid, and in two heartbeats, it feels freeing, almost true. To do as they may.
It slides away like sand in his fingers, but the greater contentment remains, winding around the lazy amusement and pleasure that is his watching Lan Zhan with their sons. With all things small and in need of love and care; for each wayward soul Lan Zhan has opened his arms to accept, will open his arms to accept in the future.
Called over, he blinks instead of starts, smiles and chuckles, allowing his weight to settle as he approaches. )
Not offended, Lan Zhan, never that. ( Seating himself, leaning forward enough so that he can behold the sleeping faces of both sons, only to find he can see barely more than babyfat cheeks and the moth's wings of lashes against their milk-white skin. The smile that follows softened and fond, affection unrestrained, remaining so when hsi gaze shifts to Lan Zhan. Tired, in linens, at the least of his largess, and rarely so humbly striking. ) I've already said yes.
( To slow shifted dynamics, to quick growing family. To tea in cups and alcohol to mind, but not in the mud of the unpleasant sadness of humanity at its worst, its most desperate, its most greedy. Not wearing trice borrowed robes, painted bride to be and digging to find bones in the forest, and Lan Zhan's hands, a memory around his throat.
A shudder that is not entirely fear travels down his spine. Ah, but a question, and an important one, stands asked, and he can direct his thoughts that way, shifting with a river's flow. )
For these people, I don't know how many would see it as different if we did. ( The cluck of his tongue, and: ) Yes, we shall. Are you willing to hand its monitoring to Yunmeng?
( Hanguang-jun doesn't have to, can state what he wishes, can leave it to coalitions of juniors, can grant it to any one sect for the scale of its festering. There are reasons and reasons why it would lay fallow for so long, and none indicate an inherent, malicious miscarriage of justice in recent decades, or even within the past times. No, only a broken landscape trying to heal itself while its darkness grew, contained by some passing practitioner of the better arts, then left for a later that only came on six feet and a small family's visitation of great heights and the beauty of what spanned out before them, before what lay underfoot took precedence.
He drops his gaze back to the children, reaches out, stills his hand in the moment before he touches one dark head. Then lowers it, stroking over hair still damp. )
When we return tomorrow, we can place a simpler barrier across the narrow section of the temple path. Or one around the whole; it wouldn't be too demanding.
( To keep humanity from intruding to unwarranted doom too soon; to allow nature to take its course as it was ever so inclined to do. )
hello wei ying's heavenly pillar................. of salt
He'd gladly offer that up, for the moments of softened peace like these; for their slow increase, and for the warm oddity of gratitude and not just the sharp edges they both wear brushing against each other and not quite fitting right, off the battlefield.
Wei Wuxian doesn't have to think about his concept of family, or his security in seeing those he cares for being safe and cleaned and together in a moment that could be broken at any moment. He doesn't think about that, either, beyond the reflexive twitch of his fingers when he wants to place another ward, one more warning, one more turning away of all that is dark and ill and violent in the world, to guard each small sanctuary as he finds it.
For a moment, the feeling that settles over him is contentment, mellowing in the marrow of his bones. No more debts to be paid, and in two heartbeats, it feels freeing, almost true. To do as they may.
It slides away like sand in his fingers, but the greater contentment remains, winding around the lazy amusement and pleasure that is his watching Lan Zhan with their sons. With all things small and in need of love and care; for each wayward soul Lan Zhan has opened his arms to accept, will open his arms to accept in the future.
Called over, he blinks instead of starts, smiles and chuckles, allowing his weight to settle as he approaches. )
Not offended, Lan Zhan, never that. ( Seating himself, leaning forward enough so that he can behold the sleeping faces of both sons, only to find he can see barely more than babyfat cheeks and the moth's wings of lashes against their milk-white skin. The smile that follows softened and fond, affection unrestrained, remaining so when hsi gaze shifts to Lan Zhan. Tired, in linens, at the least of his largess, and rarely so humbly striking. ) I've already said yes.
( To slow shifted dynamics, to quick growing family. To tea in cups and alcohol to mind, but not in the mud of the unpleasant sadness of humanity at its worst, its most desperate, its most greedy. Not wearing trice borrowed robes, painted bride to be and digging to find bones in the forest, and Lan Zhan's hands, a memory around his throat.
A shudder that is not entirely fear travels down his spine. Ah, but a question, and an important one, stands asked, and he can direct his thoughts that way, shifting with a river's flow. )
For these people, I don't know how many would see it as different if we did. ( The cluck of his tongue, and: ) Yes, we shall. Are you willing to hand its monitoring to Yunmeng?
( Hanguang-jun doesn't have to, can state what he wishes, can leave it to coalitions of juniors, can grant it to any one sect for the scale of its festering. There are reasons and reasons why it would lay fallow for so long, and none indicate an inherent, malicious miscarriage of justice in recent decades, or even within the past times. No, only a broken landscape trying to heal itself while its darkness grew, contained by some passing practitioner of the better arts, then left for a later that only came on six feet and a small family's visitation of great heights and the beauty of what spanned out before them, before what lay underfoot took precedence.
He drops his gaze back to the children, reaches out, stills his hand in the moment before he touches one dark head. Then lowers it, stroking over hair still damp. )
When we return tomorrow, we can place a simpler barrier across the narrow section of the temple path. Or one around the whole; it wouldn't be too demanding.
( To keep humanity from intruding to unwarranted doom too soon; to allow nature to take its course as it was ever so inclined to do. )