#shenqsi

[shuoshuzhe-a]

[ @shenqsi / sc. ft. jingyi ]

            “ i swear, if young mistress opens his mouth one more time, i’m actually gonna throttle him. nothing GOOD ever comes out of his mouth, i just wish i could use the silencing spell, ” the boy seethes.

[goldencored-arc]

—Su Minhui meme / @shenqsi ( liu ruizhuo ) / accepting

                   “What the hell are you doing here?”

“What does it look like?” is the haughty reply, words laced with venom and disdain. “Same as you, I suppose. I’ve come with my brother like you’ve come with your father. Where is he, anyway? Should you not be at his beck and call like a good boy? I’m sure he’ll be upset if you make another scene.”

[hwaniao]

“I wish it could always be like this.” — don’t you dare make this sad for minsang

late nights / accepting!

↳ @shenqsi

          they’re sitting by the window, minan sitting in between huaisang’s legs and huaisang’s arms encircling his waist, just basking in the soft light of the moon and each other’s afterglow. pools of red fabrics surrounded them, their bodies bare aside from the blanket huaisang had thrown over his shoulder and across minan’s front. a stick of incense has been burning in comfortable silence until minan spoke up.

          “ what, wearing red robes?  have a feast thrown in our name?  no work, just spending the whole day with each other?  because if so then i agree,”  he replied, a soft chuckle immediately following after the last word. obviously, that’s not going to happen. huaisang’s much more involved in managing the sect now—officially his brother’s right hand man—not only out of some sense of duty but because he found that he actually rather enjoyed the work. then again, that was probably not what minan meant in the first place.

          he held his husband tighter, nuzzled his hair, pressed a kiss against his temple. they may have consummated their marriage enough for the night, but huaisang was nowhere near done with showering minan with love; not now, not ever. letting out a thoughtful hum, he took another, more serious shot at answering. “ i think… it can always feel like this, as long as our hearts remain the same, don’t you agree?”  he laid a hand on minan’s chest, right atop his heart, wallowing in its steady beating. to hold another wedding would, of course, be irrational, but who’s to say they cannot feel like newlyweds a month, a year, or even a decade from now?

          (as long as their hearts remain the same, as long as they love each other the same.)

[weiwuxiian]

wei ying... come back to gusu with me...

@shenqsi

His lips quiver and twitched, a movement to match every word that came out of Lan Wangji, torn between love and hate for the man he had admired from the youth of his childhood. For all those days he bothered and cavorted around him, Lan Wangji had never once looked at him, and now he wants to take him home? Ha! Hahaha—- it’s hilarious. He leans down to Gusu Leader standing two-steps below him, a finger tipping his chin up. Lan Wangji looks so sweet all teary and hurt, Wei Wuxian wants to hurt him enough to make him leave. There’s no future in dwelling around a demonic cultivator, anyway. He laughs, ❝Take me home, and what? Let your brother and uncle chain me up on a pike to be laughed at? Let me be honest: I know you are kind, but will your brother tolerate me? Will your uncle let me go if he knows I’m unrepentant? Will your sect let someone like me walk freely around Gusu?❞ His eyes narrows, ❝You don’t know, Lan Zhan. How can I go back with you if I don’t know I’m walking into a trap? I’ve already lost faith in Lanling Jin and Qinghe Nie. You should leave when I still think fondly of Gusu Lan.❞ 

[lactiflcra-blog]

𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑬𝑴𝑬𝑫 𝑮𝑼𝑬𝑺𝑻: 「@shenqsi」

anyone that had any smattering of knowledge at all was aware of the fact that more sects than the main four (once five, now four) existed in the expanse of the continent, and so as chief cultivator mandatory it was for him to in rolling periodic points subjugate himself to converging with those that had any presence at all in the grandeur schema. after all, once in a far-flung and long-forgotten time, even the lanling jin sect had begun in some unimpressive nonchalant existence before it rose to be among the grandest. while certainly not in the lifetime begotten unto the chief cultivator, insofar as he had hopes, none other would rise to the point of being one of the main sects. for now, four was enough. another sect certainly felt like a lot of mandates and difficulties and meeting and as such, he was not in the humor for it:

diplomacy for him had been learned later in life and he had not been bred into it with the same diligence as those that were destined for their father’s titles since before they were even birthed. 

but jin guangyao had been privy to the knowledge that diplomacy is not wholly disparate from the negotiations done by prostitutes and their customers, save for diplomacy was more likely to turn bloody on a large scale. on a small scale? well, he could argue that they were comparable.

the aid had fastened, with notably dexterous fingers, the sash about his waist as his own hands lifted the black gauze hat, the iconic look that was notably his own. and as though timing had synced miraculously well, as the signature accessory found purchase, poised upon his head and his eyes cut to the mirror, another attendant came to request entrance with the lightest and most respectful tap on a closed door:

❛ sect leader, the guests have arrived. ❟

for a moment, ephemeral and fleeting, his expression was dour and his lips downturned (maybe if he had allowed one of them to live, maybe mo xuanyu, he could have controlled him behind the scenes and vanished when it suited him, never with jin zixuan could he have acted in such a way so he would have had to go regardless, but he could have shaved it down--) but his eyes closed, and he breathed deep, and he smiled.

○○○

❛ welcome, ❟ flanked by two attendants with their own splendor--more for aesthete than any genuine need for their presence, truly, an afterthought only focused on appearance: ❛ to golden carp tower. ❟

and from one to one of the presumably notable people before them. he had heard names, but was incapable, yet, of matching them to faces. that would not be a concern after the first meeting, but:

❛ i am pleased to make your acquaintance. ❟

[forlorninquiry]

“Is that blood?” -- from sizhui

“Yes,” he answers matter-of-factly. There is a thick spatter of dark, almost-brown blood across his front and a thick spray of it across his right shoulder. The arterial bleeding from what remained of Xue Yang’s left arm sprayed on him, and withdrawing Bichen from his fatal stab in the heart further stained his white robes. 

Looking down at Sizhui, he saw a clear expression of surprise and worry on his face. There is a swell of paternal affection that warms his heart, and he focuses his attention from the lifting fog of the City around them to the Junior. 

“Xue Yang’s,” he adds to explain further so that he could alleviate Sizhui’s worry. “I am fine.” 

[illusiive]

shenqsi replied to your photo “It’s mildly risque but nothing’s showing so I’m not gonna totally hide...”

this!!! so cute!!! <3

//- cute until he eats you :3

[goldencored-arc]

—Mo Xuanyu meme / @shenqsi / accepting

           ❛ your funeral . ❜

          Hesitating, he stops in his tracks, turning to glance over his shoulder at Xue Yang. Despite being welcomed into the sect, he’s still picked on by other junior disciples near ruthlessly. No lessons for the day meant they would all be running wild, traveling in groups to peruse the markets in town or sniff out his fear like rabid dogs.

                                  “Do you want to go with me, then?”