inbox (aefenglom)

[weiward]

text | voicemail | call | action

Comments

text; un: hiccup

[thisisamazing]

sooo remember me posting to try to find someone compatible for my friend to possibly bond with?

it doesn't work. don't do that to your friend. people on here are pushy and judgmental.

[weiward]

uh oh. is your friend alright?

[thisisamazing]

yeah, he's fine. i don't think it actually bothered him that much but it bothered me. anyway yeah. it was a bad idea. just letting you know.

voicemail

[taciturnly]

( so. things have been odd. death is fake, and lan wangji apparently isn't as uniq unique as the entire world believed him to be, so he's just going to leave a message here, as a warning of sorts. just in case. )

Wei Ying. Our bedroom is currently occupied. Please, do not disturb. If you notice anything peculiar in the city, come to me. Under the Gingko Tree.

[weiward]

[okay, he's just going to come straight to the gingko tree, because-]

Lan Zhan, what do you mean our bedroom is occupied!

[that's sacred space!]

[taciturnly]

( look, he knows. he wouldn’t let anyone walk anywhere near their bed normally, but “anyone” now just so happens to be himself, kind of. just way younger, and much more vulnerable, some wounds that will inevitably leave scars, and some others that will never heal.

he rises to his feet the moment wei wuxian appears, mouth twisted in a bout of uncertainty. how to put this eloquently... ) Wei Ying. ( he glances askance, catching a glimpse of pulled curtains, an open window that’d give one hell of a strange sight. ) I am here… and there as well. ( and his gaze resettles on his bonded, as warm as ever, and a little dark. )

text; un: jiangyanli

[rootstalks]

[ it's been an eventful few minutes and a very stressed orientation volunteer but she thinks she has it now. ]

wei wuxian

text | un:wwxwashere

[weiward]

[the way that just seeing that name puts his heart in his throat, a lump that he can't swallow past. that he can barely breathe past.

the last time she was here, he didn't know. he wasn't the wei wuxian who'd lost her, who was damned to live in a world without her. and he shouldn't dare, but he always dares. maybe he's setting himself up for heartbreak but-]

shijie?

Text; un: sae

[shinkunochou]

[he’s home, she knows he is. She’d heard him moving around from her bedroom, but she’s not sure if she can see him just yet for sure. It’s a conversation she’s never had to have before, one she’s worried about starting now. What if he didn’t want to talk about it? What if he denied it? What if he didn’t like her answers?

Maybe he’ll be too busy to talk to her and then she can give up after saying she at least totally did try!]

Wuxian-nii? Are you home? Are you busy?

[weiward]

i'm not busy at all

[he was just thinking how he should probably dust and sweep and do laundry...

but her questions promise to save him from such...uh, divine work. and what kind of a big brother would he be if he couldn't put everything aside for her?]

did you eat yet? shijie sent over more food, the kitchen's overflowing with it.

text | un: wangxian

[taciturnly]

Wei Ying.

I left. My thanks and apologies to our hosts will be delivered shortly.

Should you require my assistance, you need only say the word.

[weiward]

you didn't eat very much. should i bring something home?

it's fine. i thought i'd stick around until the end since i kind of started this whole thing. but i'm not sure that they know i'm still in the room.

audio; a bit after the nightmare mission

[zewu_jun]

Wei Wuxian. I would like to have words with you.

[weiward]

Zewu-jun, what good timing. I wanted to ask you about some things as well.

voice

[lotus_of_rage]

[He had spent some time thinking about things and he finally decided that it was time to do this]

We should talk. In-person. Soon.

voice

[weiward]

[uh oh, that's a Serious Voice™. but there's still serious conversations to be had, and wei wuxian knows that he can't run away from them.]

Do you have a place in mind?

text, un: qionglin

[deadwenwalking]

Master Wei?

text | un:wwxwashere

[weiward]

wen ning?

[here? truly here?]

are you one of the newly arrived?

action

[taciturnly]

( 16 hours. that’s how long lan wangji managed to meditate after all, to soothe his own nerves and come to terms with… well. everything. it’s a work in progress. a bit like walking on eggshells, but lan wangji’s always been graceful enough, and if they crack, they never fully break. not yet, anyway, and they can’t, because someone else roams the confines of his heart now, and he can’t find out.

it’s quite the task, trying to keep everything at bay. he feels him in a way he’s never felt anyone before, and the odd thing is that it doesn’t even feel foreign. there’s a sort of natural ease between them, even in spite of his most awkward moments, and it’s almost like wearing an old pair of shoes. some things you never forget. he just isn’t sure what it is that he remembers, exactly. it’s tough on his senses, to hide. he doesn’t know what he fears, exactly. vulnerability, certainly. uncertainty. confusion. love is a vast microcosm to explore, and he’s only just stepped inside, bare and exposed, and the only role models he had died for all the wrong reasons.

so he tip-toes around him. them. focuses on his new abilities, learns, studies. they’ve already spent too long in the library, and lan wangji silently apologizes by walking towards another building. pillows. blankets. mattresses in the window. he stops there and turns to look at him, a timid and slightly self-conscious curve to his lips. ) Winter is coming. ( get out ned stark. ) New furniture, for you. To keep warm.

[weiward]

[he feels the return of something to him. it's not new, not the overlapping of another lan wangji's bond over his husband's. it's familiar, and a comfort, but that also makes it all the more challenging.

it would be easy to let too much flow between them. in fact, it wouldn't take any effort at all. wei wuxian holds himself back and hopes it's enough, because that's not exactly something he's known for, or even the sect that raised him. the abundance of emotions that he always feels is no exception, but he quickly learns ways of working around what he can't hide. moments of longing that lan wangji might sense, just wei wuxian's neverending love of alcohol, faded again by the time he finishes a jar. if he feels a small surge of happiness coming from the puca's direction while in the library? must be wei wuxian flipping through a book nearby, holding back his laughter at the unflattering illustrations of witches of olde.

he's visibly glad to be out of there though, his red ribbon trailing behind him as he walks two steps ahead of lan wangji. his hands are locked behind his back...except when they're not, touching anything that he thinks is pretty or interesting when they come to the edge of the marketplace.

he looks back at the witch, and returns to him to see what he's stopped to look at in the window. lan wangji's suggestion is considerate. logical. but he still looks unsure for some reason.]

Ah...puca don't really mind the cold. Besides, I can always ask Wen Ning to share his blankets.

backdated to modranicht

[weatherscience]

[ frankly, nami wouldn't have known anything about modranicht and the tradition, were it not for some of her friends giving her gifts... so she decides to follow along with the tradition.

and so, waiting for wei wuxian one day when he comes back home is a basket — one that has carrots, and a jar full of incredibly spicy salsa.

it comes with a card —

Happy Modranicht, whatever that is! Enjoy!

no signature... but she's drawn a bunny there, one that's very similar to the ones she drew around the map of cloud recesses. ]

Modranicht gift

[thejoyrider]

[On the day of the holiday, a plate of homemade cookies and a sample of herbal tea mysteriously appears on his doorstep. The wrapping is decorated with a fresh lily flower (actually a Fae magic product, designed to fade away from existence in a few hours) and a ribbon. The attached handwritten note reads as follows:]

Happy Modranicht! Let’s have another great year here in Aefenglom!

M⚜️

modranicht

[yesdoubt]

[On the last day of Modranicht, there's a gift left on the doorstep wrapped in simple white silk - it's something of a couple gift, but the note on it does aim it slightly more at one than the other:

This is for both of you, but Wei Wuxian might get a better laugh out of it if he opens it.

Here's a happy new year for the happy couple ;)

~Momo

Inside the package is a set of nice red silk sheets, which are wrapped around something...that turns out to be a very nicely illustrated instructional book on bondage techniques that doesn't resemble anything yet stocked in the questionable stores of Aefenglom because he got it from the Underground instead.

Momo never misses a good chance for a gag gift that might still be kind of useful.]

some time after the mistletoe

[taciturnly]

( lan wangji doesn’t pry. doesn’t stick his nose where it doesn’t belong. doesn’t look for trouble… but ever since he met wei wuxian, trouble shadows his every step—and here, his fingers.

he didn’t mean to look. it was his room, once upon a time, and it still is, but there’s a vibe around here that keeps him from really feeling at home. like he’s an intruder. an imposter, even. so when he perused the collection of odd books on the shelves, and when an envelop fell from a brightly-colored tome, he didn’t think twice. he dropped to a crouch, picked the scattered content… and froze.

beatitude. right there in his eyes, and across his mouth. the same that’s half-open now, vision a little blurry as he delicately goes through a life he faintly remembers. he was happy. more than that; he was free, or so it seems, the affection in his gazes unrestrained. how. it’s a possibility that still feels impossible, but it’s there, pinched between trembling fingers, knuckles white. lan wangji in red. wei wuxian with a veil. lan wangji laughing, wei wuxian in his arms. wei wuxian looking at him. wei wuxian nearly bare—

—and the content spills right back across the floor as one of his hands flies to his lips, and sure enough, lan wangji gasps, staggering back until his legs hit the bed. he promptly sits down, wide-eyed, a throbbing in his ears. and he just. tries to breathe, struggling to make sense out of what he’s just seen and the last shot now carved in a forbidden corner of his mind, flashing neon at the forefront. )

[weiward]

[he looks at scenes from a day that wei wuxian simultaneously will never forget and sometimes wishes that he could. it's not a feeling born of regret - how could he ever regret the happiness that came with making their bows together? of laughing and dancing late into the night, lan wangji in red...until he wasn't. the happiest day of his life turning into the happiest night, with the color then found on the shell of his husband's ear and lips kissed until they were as red as their wedding robes.

wei wuxian treasures the photos that prompto took. he treasures the memories even more. but they wouldn't help his bonded to see them yet, and putting his own needs last comes second nature by now. so he'd wrapped them carefully, placed them in an envelope and slid it in between books about farming with the hope that -someday- he could share them with him.

he hadn't planned on today being that day. it was a bittersweet post on the network. someone preparing for their on wedding, perhaps, but it made the memories all come rushing back, and he wanted to study every last detail of those photos or the hundredth time. wei wuxian returns home and to the room where his pictures are so carefully hidden. but today they've been found.]

Lan Zhan?

[he pauses at the threshold, blinking curiously at lan wangji's startled expression. and then he looks down and sees the cause of it, scattered across the floor. he sees himself on top, a strand of dark hair curled around his finger and wearing not much more than a smile meant for only one man. a man who sits right here with him.

wei wuxian presses his lips together and steps swiftly, crouching to gather up the remnants of that happiness without a word.]