[ A poor cook. A worse adviser. Above all else, a wretched villain.
All of these things, facets of Wei Wuxian's character — onion layers, shrouding the same, acrimonious core. There was fear within Wei Ying, before he learned charisma. Hate beside affection. Wit, misused for cruelty and cunning, to accompany creation.
There was all the wrong of the world, packaged in the red envelope of every gift of beauty and ability. Jin Ling is blind, as they all were, once upon a time, when their one duty was quiet study, when they allowed themselves to fall in the gravity thrall of Wei Wuxian.
Guilt should not add to Wei Ying's charm. And still, Lan Wangji can't bring himself to condemn Jin Ling's instinct for adoration. ]
Put aside honour, duty, pride. [ Words softened, like every blow pulled at the last moment, like the trial sword strikes mimicked so disciples might learn to parry. ] You cannot hurt him.
[ Ice crystallises in his eyes, the one edge of white sharpening a dark gaze. Witness, assassin, executioner. He has tolerated or implemented too much cruelty to pretend his soul is cut of the same white cloth as his robes. ]
You die before your sword falls.
[ A simple truth to whisper, a promise freely given. The boy's skill is unknown, for all his upbringing is — dubious, but privileged. Perhaps he might even hold his own ground, given the opportunity. Lan Wangji will not win for the greater merit, the finer talent
Needs must, he will erode the boy down to bone and marrow. ]
no subject
All of these things, facets of Wei Wuxian's character — onion layers, shrouding the same, acrimonious core. There was fear within Wei Ying, before he learned charisma. Hate beside affection. Wit, misused for cruelty and cunning, to accompany creation.
There was all the wrong of the world, packaged in the red envelope of every gift of beauty and ability. Jin Ling is blind, as they all were, once upon a time, when their one duty was quiet study, when they allowed themselves to fall in the gravity thrall of Wei Wuxian.
Guilt should not add to Wei Ying's charm. And still, Lan Wangji can't bring himself to condemn Jin Ling's instinct for adoration. ]
Put aside honour, duty, pride. [ Words softened, like every blow pulled at the last moment, like the trial sword strikes mimicked so disciples might learn to parry. ] You cannot hurt him.
[ Ice crystallises in his eyes, the one edge of white sharpening a dark gaze. Witness, assassin, executioner. He has tolerated or implemented too much cruelty to pretend his soul is cut of the same white cloth as his robes. ]
You die before your sword falls.
[ A simple truth to whisper, a promise freely given. The boy's skill is unknown, for all his upbringing is — dubious, but privileged. Perhaps he might even hold his own ground, given the opportunity. Lan Wangji will not win for the greater merit, the finer talent
Needs must, he will erode the boy down to bone and marrow. ]
Understood?