#and i think jun himself would benefit from that from realizing that there is a way to love that is not romantic

[moon-yeongjun]

"I think too much weight is put on the word 'love', because people like to separate it a lot. 'This is like, and this is love'. The feeling of liking something is also loving something. A lot of people think the dream of love is dating, but looking at a pet and its so cute, then it's love. Ah, you're drinking coffee and its so delicious, that's love. Don't think about it too hard, love isn't a heavy topic. And historically, there wasn't a time where it didn't exist either."

-Min Yoongi

[soobibabe]

"no" strings attached

pairings: choi yeonjun + fem reader trope: friends with benefits (smut, eventual fluff)

warnings: dom!yeonjun, penetrative/unprotected sex, oral, throat fucking, hair pulling (?), degrading, praise, rough/jealous sex, a little alcohol consumption but they’re sober for the most part, fingering, slapping (once, and it’s nothing crazy) lmk if i missed anything else.

You knew exactly what you were doing when you found yourself taking the alcohol poured down your throat by Kim Sunwoo in the middle of a party Yeonjun invited you to. You made sure to down every last drop, maintaining eye contact with Sunwoo while you swallowed every last drop he gave you. Why? Well, simply put the man you were here for was too busy chatting it up with other girls in front of your face to pay you any attention.

Of course, don't play these games lightly. He knew this, so why bother trying you in the first place?

"Where'd you learn to do that pretty girl?" sunwoo asked, genuinely in awe at your ability to drink all of it without gagging. You turn your head to the site of the pair of eyes you felt glaring at you the entire time. Yeonjun hadn't taken his eyes off you since the second you made your way over to the group of men playing beer pong, joining the team with Heesung, Soobin, and Sunwoo himself.

"Oh you know, practice from game punishments and stuff" You tilt your head mid-sentence, looking up at the taller figure through batted eyelashes, knowing fully that it would drive Yeonjun insane had he seen you, which, he had.

"How about we got to know each other better tonig-" Sunwoo begins, but Yeonjun appears beside you lifting his right hand to rest it on Sunwoo's shoulder. He maneuvers the left one to slide around your waist.

"Sorry bro but y/n's got something else planned tonight," Yeonjun says through a smile coated in faux pity, causing Sunwoo's to fade.

You slip out of Yeonjun's hold on you, stepping closer to the boy in front of you "Ah right, I forgot about that. But I had so much fun with you wonie, how about we continue where we left off tomorrow, hm?”

You don't see it, but Yeonjun's eyes widen then fall into a daggered stare upon hearing the nickname you gave to the man in front of you.

"Tomorrow sounds perfect, lets exchange numbers" Without warning, Yeonjun grabs your wrist "Y/n it's pretty late do you think? How about I drive you back to your dorm?" before you can respond, he's already dragging delicately escorting you toward the exit of the frat house. "Hey, what are you doing? I didn't wanna leave yet," you complain, but you know this is exactly what you wanted. You wanted his blood to boil. You wanted him to come crawling to you.

He doesn't respond to you but instead continues pacing forward in the direction of his car. He reaches out to open the car door, loosening his grip on your hand to allow you to enter the vehicle.

Once youre inside, he wastes no time, buckling you into your seat immediately.

"You're so childish jun. What? I can't even catch up with friends now?" he scoffs. A chuckle erupts through his pretty lips. "That's how you catch up with all your friends?" his smile drops when he faces you. When his eyes meet yours, they go dark. Like he's a totally different person.

He shuts the door, walking around the front of the car to meet his seat. The drive home is silent. You're scared of what would happen if you provoke him any further.

You're lost in thought, wondering if what you did with Sunwoo was too much. Looking out the window, you snap out of your daze, realizing you're not being driven to your campus. You're in the street of Yeonjuns apartment.

Upon arrival, you follow Yeonjuns lead into his apartment. "What is this?' you ask, referring to the fact that you're at his place instead of your own.

"Would you rather your dorm mates hear you screaming and begging me to go easy on you through the thin walls?" he turns to meet you. "You want them to hear you get fucked by your best friend? Don't want to keep me as your little secret anymore?"

He says it all in one breath, nearing closer to you with each syllable that leaves his lips. The same lips are clashed with yours not even a second after, not giving you that second to formulate a counter.

His tongue dances with yours for what feels like an eternity. He's breaking the first rule of your 'no strings attached' agreement, no kissing. But here in this moment, you never want it to end.

Your back presses on the wall he pushes you against and he breaks the kiss to lift your thighs, he wants them wrapped around him. "This want you wanted?" he questions.

"I want you, Yeonjun." you state as the desire for him engulfs you.

"Slutty girls like you don't know what they want. You know that more than anyone don't you? Weren't you just ready to fuck that guy? What's his name? Sunoo? Sunie? doesn't matter. I'll make you forget all about him, baby"

At this point, youre desperate for Yeonjun to touch you. You know he's stalling. Know he's making you wait on purpose, so you do the next best thing. "It's Sunwoo." you correct him.

Now you've done it. He didn't think you'd have it in you. Yet here you are.

His hold on you stiffens, carrying you like you weigh nothing away from the doorway into his room. He throws you into the bed, his usual gentleness gone. "Take your top off." he requests, leaving you in just your bra and mini-skirt.

"Let's put your dirty mouth to better use, yeah?" he unbuckles his belt, peeling each layer off in one swift motion. "Suck."

You're never not intimidated by the sight of his dick. It's thick, but still long. Every time you take him, the stretch makes you feel like a virgin all over again.

You wrap your hands around his length, taking the tip into your mouth and drawing circles around it with your tongue making him groan. a breathy, low 'fuck' comes from him.

"Take it. All of it. You've been begging me to fuck you all night like a whore, so suck it like you mean it." He scolds you when he realizes you're teasing him by your own will.

"Youre just so big," you say, looking up at him with your bottom lip tucked under your teeth. "Mmm really? Dumb girl, you should've thought about that earlier." he looks down at you with a faux smile.

"This won't do," he grabs a fistful of your hair, using his other hand over yours to guide his cock to your mouth. "Open." and you obey.

He shoves himself all the way into your mouth, slowly pushing down your throat. Tears well up in your eyes when he begins to thrust, trying not to gag around him. "Taking me so well, like you were made for me. You're all mine, you know that?" you attempt to nod.

His strokes become rougher as he continues. His hand in your hair suddenly stills when he feels himself approach a high. Is he a masochist? "Get on your fours. Ass up and head down just how I like it".

"Gonna fill you up so good," he tugs your skirt off, "Remind you who you belong to. You want that?" he says before he bends down to kiss you. Youre dumbfounded by the sudden gesture. "Of course you do, my pretty slut"

You do as he demands, switching positions. His finger finds its way to your sopping hole "This wet from just sucking me off, pretty?"

He thrusts two fingers into you simultaneously at a rapid pace, already stimulating all your sweet spots. "Fuck, so good junnie." you cry out, earning a smirk from him.

He tips down to your core, licking a long strip from your clit to your entrance causing you to squirm. "Don't run from me baby, you're the one who wanted this"

"Gonna make you feel so good, nobody else can make you feel like this can they?" he asks, already knowing your answer. "Only you, j-jun, fuck" you moan, losing yourself in the pleasure.

He rips himself away from you, breaking the contact that was bringing you close to what felt like a high.

"Do you think he can satisfy you like this, y/n?" he interrogates.

"Not sure, I'm a hands-on learner. Should I find out?" you retort, eliciting exactly what you wanted from him.

You know exactly how to rile him up. He grabs your hips, placing a slap on the round of your ass, inducing a whine from you. He's sure to rub the sting, not really wanting to hurt you.

Unannounced, he slams the entirety of his cock into you. "Gonna fucking ruin you." he smiles, pulling you up by your neck to press your arched back to his chest. "Tell me how good it feels, baby" he whispers into your neck.

"S-so fucking g-good, fuck!" you whine when he softly bites down on your shoulder.

He drops you back onto the mattress, rolling you over onto your back. "So pretty when you're fucked out like this. his thrusts become ruthless, pounding into you mercilessly.

You can't help but moan his name, "You think he can make you feel this good baby? Think he can fuck you like I do?" he asks, but you both already know the answer.

You're too distracted by the waves of pleasure coursing through you to give him a coherent response.

A light slap lands on your cheek, "I asked you a question, did I not?" his fingers dip to your folds, giving stimulation to your neglected clit. "Use your big girl words, yeah?"

"No j-jun nobody else can -- fuck - make me feel the way you do." he smiles, content with your remark.

He bends to hover closer to you, showering your neck and lips with feathery kisses, one after the other.

His rhythm doesn't falter, fucking you relentlessly and drawing you near your climax. His attention drifts from your face to your lower torso, in awe at the bulge formed on your abdomen from how far he's hitting.

"Shit, do you feel me here?" he inquires, using his free hand to press against it. The stimulation from his cock being pushed impossibly closer to your sweet spot pulls you into nirvana.

"Please, Yeonjun I'm gonna-" you're interrupted by the force of your orgasm crashing through you, making a mess on the man you're wrapped so snuggly around.

"Fucking hot. God, I wish I recorded that" he practically whines at the sight of your release coating his supple skin. You'd never cum that hard before.

"That's it, keep moaning my name like that, pretty," he orders when you chant his name as he fucks you through your orgasm. "that's it, good girl"

"Cumming" He reaches in for a kiss again, stilling his hips as he empties his load in you, "Fuck"

He drops his weight onto you, careful to not let his (still hard) cock slip out as he flips your bodies over so that you're on top of him.

There's a comfortable silence between you as he embraces you tightly. You love how there's never an awkward moment when you're with him.

You raise your head to meet his eyes already admiring your face. "So beautiful" he whispers. It felt so intimate, so pure you can't help the blush that creeps up your cheeks.

"You're cute when you're jealous" you tease. His brows furrow, shifting his gaze to his hand as though it's the most interesting thing he'd ever encountered. "I'm not jealous." he mumbles flatly.

"Ah I see, then I guess it's okay if I go on that date with-" the same hand he was so absorbed in a second ago is now covering your mouth.

His eyes pierce into yours once more. "Think very conscientiously about your next few choices of words because I'm afraid the consequences this time will not be as clement as the last."

You giggle, prying his hand off you. "Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“You’re annoying” he tries to conceal his smile, but gives in and tickles you instead. You both sit up too fast, suddenly reminded of the spot in which your bodies are connected.

“Fuck,” you groan in unison, laughing at the stupidity of the situation.

He pulls out but refuses to let go of you it seems. “i want to stay like this forever. stay with you” he whispers, catching you off guard but you don’t show it.

“Me too, jun.” you return his soft, dorky smile. “i love you” you whisper back.

His eyes beam at you, taken aback yet ecstatic as a result of your unexpected honesty, “I love you too. So so much more than you know” those same sparkling eyes look at you with tears welling in them.

“Can we end this stupid agreement and make this real?” you ask timidly.

���Yes, please god yes. I’ve waited, so so long. Can i be your boyfriend, y/n?”

“Absolutely, choi yeonjun.”

A/N: i started this when i was horny and let’s just say i wrote the other half during pnc >.< hope you enjoy this monstrosity! i love you soobination

find my masterlist here

© all rights reserved soobibabe on tumblr. do not cross-post, copy or translate etc.

[taglist] @himenaayo-blog @matcha-binz @inkigayocamman

[illuminatedferret]

One of the things that I was always a little confused about was how Mei Nianqing describes that over the centuries, as Jun Wu watched Xie Lian during his second banishment, he 'calmed down' from the displeasure of Xie Lian failing to meet Jun Wu's expectations in Lang'er Bay. Why would he calm down, watching Xie Lian? After all, he was suffering, sure, but we can see from Yong'an and Banyue that he was still living in accordance with his principles, standing strong despite his experiences. What made Jun Wu think that what he was seeing was a sign that Xie Lian, upon ascending and witnessing the sins of the gods up close and personal, would finally give in and become the second White No-Face?

And I realized that, just like he does across the entire series, he was probably projecting on Xie Lian, wasn't he? He probably thought (or, decided to believe) that deep down, each indignity Xie Lian suffered built up resentment and frustration, that he bargained with himself at every hardship, that he was struggling not only physically but also mentally. Surely a man like that would falter, to see that such indignities continue even among the gods.

And I wonder if this is perhaps a look into Jun Wu himself. Is this a sentiment Jun Wu developed over the years, accustomed to hiding away all the ugly and angry pieces of himself, waiting until he was alone to let them out? Or is this perhaps a sentiment that he always carried, deep down? Even as a prince, did he feel some little niggle of resentment when things didn't go his way? When soldiers killed civilians to take their land? When worshipers turned away but still expected to benefit off of him?

When his friends said he'd changed, to suggest human sacrifice, had he truly? Or was he simply finally showing a part of himself that he'd never expressed before? One that grew stronger the more he endured, but that had always been there, deep down?

Or maybe Jun Wu didn't think any of this at all, and he just wanted to see Xie Lian crack, one way or another. But I wonder if we can read deeper into this than that.

[pharahsgf]

irt the xl ask, YEAH, that scene where xl decides to not unleash the face disease is so potent bc you know he could and would have done it. i love xl because even though he's not a terrible person in book 4, he skirts the line of becoming one (with extreme encouragement in some fairness) and from the jump he's not very socially aware and he has a sense of entitlement that at times seems clueless and at others, uncaringly deliberate. i also think there's a really interesting conversation to be had about xl's, and even mqfx's, perception of xl's purity and "goodness" and how losing the privilege that allowed xl that bubble of virtue was a blow for xl's identity (& how it might benefit fx's perception to know that xl almost killed an entire city, and it would benefit mq's to know that xl could have but didn't). sometimes it seems like xl has low self-esteem in the novel, but then you realize that often he's just filtering his kneejerk reactions. xl had to be the main character bc without that glimpse behind the curtain he is the most boring, borderline insufferably magnanimous character ever. until you realize that xl has had to train himself not to blow up mountains when provoked

i love this ask.. ppl on this website often talk about characters who choose to be kind and how powerful that is, and xie lian is one of the most effective versions of that trope because he has so much power and is capable of such cruelty and destruction, but stays true to his peaceful ideals no matter how much he's tested. literally the whole story is fuelled by jun wu's belief that xie lian would succumb to the same bitter rage as he did under the right circumstances, but xie lian is ultimately able to find the strength to keep enduring and persevering without lashing out at others. and it's so thematically satisfying that the one to bring him back from the brink and remind him of his values when he's about to lose himself to vengeance is hua cheng, not through his power but through his love for xie lian and desire to save him from suffering. like.. i'm rambling at this point but i fucking love xie lian's near breakdown of morality and identity and wu ming's role in preventing that

also the bit about mqfx's perception of xie lian's virtue is so true and it's something i wish the story had a little more attention for lmao.. mdzs' themes of classism and privilege surrounding morality spoiled me

[mejomonster]

Yall weren't lying about Tantai Jun being a Disney princess type

He reminds me more of Regina Mills from Once Upon a Time though like

1. Disney princess but not planned for a happy ending but instead to become like or crueler than those who hurt him

2. He's already past Regina at that age, he killed a dude with a wasp! (Phenomenal btw)

3. The crow is basically conditioning him to give up his body and soul to the devil inside when hes at his worst life moment???

4. I hope we get to see SOME earlier flashback where it shows when he started talking to the devil thing smoke face guy about giving it himself when he's ready to die and gain power. Like was a 2 year old him oddly comforted by that once upon a time? Or a 4 year old him afraid, but over the years he realized the "devil he knew" who said exactly what it'd do to him and how he would benefit would be WAY better than the current people hurting him? Was he gently coaxed a little more every year until the face finally put death on the table? I want to know how he got to the point of being convinced to give himself to it when he dies. Also! Maybe it wasn't even there as a child, it's not part of his devil bone, and it's actually an outside entity enticed by his Very Compatible Devil Body to want to possess him. In which case how did he get convinced to trust it. Also HOW is rhe crow involved. I love the crow! It's like 1 part Disney princess companion but the evil henchman ones instead, and 1 part the crow from Sandman.

5. I love that he is actually already with a plan. It's not actually take it until dead. It's "die on my own terms and gain magic power and emotional numbness and get worldwide revenge" if he DOES wither away, and in the meanwhile figure out what to do next while alive. (Which I mean yes ouat went Wild with the writing but in season 1 some old notable things I remember was a Snow White who had her own plan, just in general the vibe of even if a damsel imprisoned people were generally thinking about what to do) I appreciate that Tantai Jin is smarter than just waiting to die as plan A.

6. Love Susu? I love? I love that she's fulfilling this typical Heroic Good Xianxia Heroine role but like. Idk the role feels written FOR AN ADULT. I don't know how to explain just.. often xianxia will start with a teen girl heroine. An innocent one who doesn't know about sex and crushes much yet, or the idea of actual political marriage and dynamics is irritating to her even if her parents had one etc. Susu immediately sees her clan (and the world?) die so she's not innocent in the sense of no destruction yet, she is aware of the outcome and the stakes and a heroine with total awareness of WHY she must succeed. She's already a skilled fighter, and though she loses her powers as a mortal, her knowledge means she's still more competent then the cultivators in the human realm she runs into, aware of how to handle demons, aware of how to judge people's strengths and weak points, she's more like watching a sect shi-jie save the world than the usual younger disciple setting out. Not quite a sect elder, but someone already established with skills and years of practice and competence and awareness of the stakes she faces. I love that while we don't know her personal romantic past yet, that adult feel of her carries into her treatment of marriage and family. She can judge the family she transmigrated into logically instead of taking it personal like she's really the human now... instead of making enemies with the sister or being apologetic she can try and be level headed, she can use the cruel reputation of the human to help her when needed, or shift her political weight for positive change. She is aware to get background info on people instead of floundering trying to adapt. She is not shy around a supposed husband and her only awkwardness with Tantai Jin IS REMEMBERING WHAT AWFUL STUFF HE DID TO HER LOVED ONES which is fair and a response that's expected. She's not worried to be flirtatious or blush, she can jump into "this human spouse ordered him around and hurt or was solely able to protect him" role and not be bogged down by a shy or awkwardness of like "Oh how could i/I don't love him/I shouldn't see him so intimately blah blah" (which is probably partly why she was cast, bai lu plays very straightforward and not shy or hesitant in The Legends even when she is playing basically a young somewhat naive xianxia hero). It's just like. Refreshing (for my tastes in a show anyway lol) that our heroine feels like an adult with experience trying to save the world. I didn't realize how much I enjoy when lead characters don't blush and act all shy and worried about politeness until I get lucky with finding them (xuanji was innocent xianxia hero girl but honestly her lack of Care for such usual behavior was also nice)

7. I love enemies to loverssss

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls Extra 3

Summary: Wen Ruohan, who is still a work in progress, confronts Qingheng-jun over Lan Qiren (set between Chapter 21 and 22)

- ao3 -

To cultivate is to go against destiny: this was something all cultivators knew.

That destiny was what tied all of nature together, uniting all things within one path to flow together along the same stream to the same ocean, and that to fight against that current was to fight alone – this, no one knew better than Wen Ruohan.

Excluding perhaps only those secluded cultivators that resided in their mysterious mountains, never seeing the light of day, there was no cultivator in the world like him. The years since his birth numbered a century and more, yet his face was youthful as it had been in his twenties; all those around him, being neither so talented nor so lucky nor even so ruthless, were born and lived and grew old and died even as he remained the same – the same, and yet not unchanging. Surrounded by short-lived mayflies, he existed beyond their understanding; by now, he had learned to look down upon them all as if looking upon ants, or else he might go mad for loneliness.

It was easier to be indifferent. Better to be frozen through and through despite all the flames of his fiery cultivation style, to ignore their meaningless cries and meaningless lives and focus only on himself alone. Sometimes Wen Ruohan wondered whether he had actually died when his normal lifespan was meant to have ended and that he now existed only as a ghost, full of resentment: it was far easier to be resentful of those living creatures around him that seemed to instinctively understand one another in a way he no longer did, to ignore them or to treat them with disdain, to allow their pain to be his own reprieve from his own endless ennui – a small child pulling the wings off of flies to amuse himself and remind himself that these creatures before him were actually alive.

Hatred was easy. Living was hard.

Why should he burden himself with the effort of living – with anything other than amusing himself?

He still hadn’t figured out the answer to that, but apparently some part of the answer was plain old irritation.

Lao Nie was too high ranked to be ignored, as Wen Ruohan did care for his sect if he cared for nothing else, and unlike everyone else he refused to be ignored; he had forced his way into Wen Ruohan’s life and made him feel things once again whether he wanted to or not. Mostly what he felt was anger: anger at being treated the way he treated others (for only he was real, and the rest of them fake, and for that reason only he deserved all the good things in the world), anger at being bothered by that interminable pestilence of a man, anger at – feeling things.

Remembering things.

Wen Ruohan was unwillingly reminded of the brother who had loved him and betrayed him and left him behind with a blood-soaked gift he’d never wanted, a cold corpse so long in the ground that he had undoubtedly been completely consumed by worms; he was reminded of those children he had so greatly cherished, so long ago, the ones he would have been willing to die for but instead had to bury. The memories, and the feelings that came with them, had driven him to distraction, feeling at first as though there was nothing to be found in Lao Nie’s immensely irritating brand of affection but needless pain, but somewhere along the line that little spark of irritation had become more than just that.

It hadn’t just been irritation, but curiosity – curiosity, interest, humor, affection…even a feeling of indulgence, a desire to spoil someone and treat them well for no other reason than in order to see them enjoy it, feelings he hadn’t felt in decades. And somehow that mixture of irritating and curiosity had led him not only to Lao Nie, who sent himself quite happily to his bed, but had driven him in a moment of impulse to set up a trap and net himself a brand new brother of his own.

That, too, was to Lao Nie’s credit…or perhaps fault.

Wen Ruohan had tried for years and years now to deny that he felt affection for Lao Nie, and yet it hadn’t helped him one bit in diminishing that affection. Even if the man were acting very odd as of late, almost as if he did not realize what a rare prize he had won for himself through his endless persistence – it wasn’t that Wen Ruohan needed to be wanted, of course, but it was rather irritating that the man who had stuck himself to his side like a burr that wouldn’t be peeled off would promptly disappear the second it turned out Wen Ruohan actually did want him there – it was still there, unchanging.

It might be affection now, but it had started, at first, with anger, that emotion that the Nie sect knew as well as their own hearts.

It was anger that Wen Ruohan felt now.

Not at or about Lao Nie, for once, nor for his sect, one of the few things he cared for. He certainly wasn’t angry any longer at the shining pearl he had snatched away from the Lan sect all those years before, their vision averted and distracted by the glittering but ultimately insubstantial sparkle of Qingheng-jun – he’d found that he could no longer feel anger when he thought of Lan Qiren, no matter how hard he tried, no matter how many times he reminded himself that it had been Lan Qiren who had turned away from him, distraught and upset on behalf of those meaningless flies.

Lan Qiren, who had, despite it all, missed him.

Who thought of him perhaps as often as Wen Ruohan thought of him in return – affection again, that insidious emotion, and Lan Qiren hadn’t even been the one to be persistent this time. Ridiculous, really, and even more ridiculous that it had been Wen Ruohan who had been the first to bend.

He had condescended to come to the Cloud Recesses to find him, all on the strength of an extremely implausible rumor, knowing even as he flew over that he was being a fool – there was obviously no way that Lan Qiren had actually done what he’d been accused of by the wagging tongues of inferior men, and so his trip to the Cloud Recesses was obviously an excuse to go see him and make up with him.

He hadn’t even removed the tongues of the people he’d heard it from, as a gesture of good faith.

He’d come to the Cloud Recesses for Lan Qiren, and he’d found –

He’d found –

Wen Ruohan was often angry after Lao Nie had forcefully pulled him out of the frozen torpor that was the depth of his hate, but he had not been this angry in a very, very long time.

He moved slower than usual, his rage deadening him like a snake in winter. His anger was not like Lao Nie’s, which burned hot and then snuffed itself out, restoring at once to the usual good humor, but rather lasted and lasted, glacial and slow and inexorable. The angrier he was, the slower he moved; if all his years upon the earth had taught Wen Ruohan anything, it was that he needed to keep a clear head when he was truly angry.

Even if only so that he could fully enjoy taking his inevitable revenge.

Wen Ruohan had used a technique to coax Lan Qiren into a deep sleep, meant for healing, and handed him over to a few of his most trusted associates with instructions to see to his injuries and take whatever steps necessary to reduce his pain in the short term. That the cost and effort expended was immaterial did not need to be stated, of course.

Once that was done, he had gone to the rooms of the Lan sect leader, step by slow step, and as he’d hoped, Qingheng-jun was there by the time he arrived, waiting to speak to him.

For all its loneliness, he reflected, there were many benefits to power.

“You’re in the wrong place,” he told him, seeing that, as he’d suspected, the Lan sect rooms were all oriented the same way.

Qingheng-jun frowned at him, clearly not understanding. “Sect Leader Wen –”

“You should take a few steps to the right,” Wen Ruohan clarified, gesturing, and making clear as he did that there would be no conversation until he was obeyed.

This, too, was the benefit of power.

Confused, Qingheng-jun did as he said, moving over until it matched up with the image Wen Ruohan had put together in his head on the way here: the stories told by his spies and the marks left on Lan Qiren’s body both, a hazy image of two brothers standing in a room that was laid out just the same but which was nothing alike.

“Perfect,” he said, and, curling his fingers into a fist, he punched him deep in the stomach.

Qingheng-jun’s complaint stuck in his throat as he gagged, the air expelled out of him by force – Wen Ruohan’s strikes were enough to shatter stone, and Qingheng-jun, however talented a cultivator, was not strong enough to be able to disregard them. He staggered, and Wen Ruohan caught him by the collar, slamming him against the wall and holding him up.

Just the way Qingheng-jun had done to Lan Qiren, just some few days before.

“How dare you,” Wen Ruohan snarled, and felt it again, that anger that was unlike any other anger. Anger that burned hot, not cold; anger that was like a furious flame, not the bright but unfeeling rays of the sun. Anger for someone, rather than against them…anger that was born of affection, rather than hate. “How dare you touch Qiren! He’s your brother!”

He’s my brother.

“He’s no brother of mine,” Qingheng-jun spat, vicious and bitter. “He hasn’t been in years, not since you stole him away and made him value you over his duty to his ancestors. The only brother he is, is yours – isn’t that how you want it?”

It was, of course, but that wasn’t the point.

Wen Ruohan sneered. “Do you think I do not know about you?” he asked. “You, the gifted child, talented and shining, whose world fell apart when your younger siblings died – your father forced you to take on the burden of keeping him intact, told you that you were the only reason he had to live, that you were perfect and therefore had to remain perfect, no matter the cost to you. In his grief he told you that it was because your brother was born that your mother died and you lost everything, and in your grief you believed him; in your rage you lashed out at him, and found that no one would stop you from doing so…it was easy to blame him, wasn’t it?”

Qingheng-jun glared at him.

“It was,” Wen Ruohan said. “You were a child: it was easy to hate where your father hated, to blame where your father blamed, and to lead everyone in the sect to hate right alongside you. You even convinced yourself that you were justified, when in fact you were only jealous – you had to be perfect, while he could be anything at all.”

He casually slammed his fellow sect leader into the wall once more.

“But you knew better. You knew. You had friends, you had allies, you even had Lao Nie, who knows more than most about righteousness – even if you were blameless for what you did as a child, led on by those failures that were your elders, the same cannot be said for you as an adult. You have learned morality and ethics, and yet you chose to continue that hatred, to rely on that crutch – to take the easy route, the selfish route. Why bother to do the work to improve yourself?”

Why bother indeed.

For some reason, Wen Ruohan was suddenly reminded of Lan Qiren’s eyes at the Fire Palace, full of horror and heartbreak, the way he looked as though his world had shattered even as he’d fled – as if leaving Wen Ruohan behind were the hardest choice he’d ever had to make, rather than a betrayal.

It’s easy to hate, he suddenly thought, his own words echoing back at him. The easy route, the crutch…

Wen Ruohan frowned instinctively before casting the thought aside to be examined at a later time.

“You should have done better,” he concluded. “You should do better?”

Qingheng-jun laughed in his face. “Why should I?” he asked savagely. “What use is he to me?”

“Use?” Wen Ruohan asked, and somehow found himself surprised by the question. Not a pleasant surprise, the way it had been when Lan Qiren had effortlessly resisted his compulsion as a child, or when he had turned out to be a thoughtful and oddly charming conversationalist, passionate about his interests and willing to share them as if he were handing out pieces of himself; it was merely that old familiar surprise that there were people this stupid in this world. “Do treasures need to be useful to be valuable?”

“You do not understand,” Qingheng-jun said, and that was the most absurd thing Wen Ruohan had yet heard: of course he understood. He understood far too well the darker emotions of humanity, the way they failed people and twisted people into terrible things – even Lan Qiren had his faults, his temper and his inflexibility; Wen Ruohan did not deceive himself into thinking that his sworn brother was a saint.

But he was himself, and that was worth something.

Even if someone like Qingheng-jun could not see it.

Wen Ruohan listened with only half an ear as Qingheng-jun spoke, seeking to justify himself and his behavior. It didn’t really matter what he said, not really; it was only excuses, in the end.

Instead of listening, Wen Ruohan recalled to himself the distant past: the madness of the Lan sect of his father’s generation, the chaos and terror of the wars they had begun – the miracles and atrocities they would and did commit for the sake of a loved one. They loved so deeply, these Lans; deeply and wholly and blindly, every one of them. To be the subject of their love would be to be their entire world, and even Qingheng-jun’s mad infatuation with the girl He Kexin was merely a pale echo of that love, though he did not know it. He loved the freedom she represented to him, not her: if he had loved her, he would have valued her happiness over his and let her go, no matter how he felt.

Put their happiness over your own, think first of what they would want, what would be better for them rather than what you wanted – only the madness of denying yourself for the sake of another was love.

A strange thought, although a useless one.

He was not a Lan, after all.

Still, however old, the memories of that past still lingered, leaving their mark on his heart all these years later – of all the sects in the cultivation world, Wen Ruohan was most wary of the Lan.

“I’m taking Qiren back to the Nightless City with me,” he interrupted Qingheng-jun.

“Good!” the other man shouted. “Keep him!”

Wen Ruohan somehow hadn’t expected him to say that, and for a moment he felt seized with glee.

Yes, he thought to himself, suddenly pleased. Yes, I will keep him; is that not what I want from him, what I have long wanted from him? I have thought of him every day since he has gone, dreamt of him every night; there is a poison that has sunk within my veins that wears his face and torments me endlessly, and he himself is the only cure I can think of for it. I even have an excuse now, his own sect leader’s word – I don’t have to give him up any longer. I can keep him for good!

And then, in the midst of his joy, he suddenly had a useless thought:

…he won’t be happy about that.

Truly a useless thought. What did Wen Ruohan care about that? Nothing mattered – nothing ever mattered, nothing but him and what he wanted, his wishes and his desires.

He was the only real thing in the world, him and only him, standing alone.

All good things in the world ought to go to him, be with him. It would make him happy to have Lan Qiren with him, to keep him by his side; what did it matter what Lan Qiren, that mayfly only a little more interesting than other mayflies, would prefer? What did it matter that Lan Qiren loved his sect, which did not value him as it should? What did it matter that Lan Qiren still loved his brother, who did not return it?

Wen Ruohan would take him away from it all, keep him by his side, and Lan Qiren would be better off for it, no matter what he thought he wanted.

It was as simple as that.

“You will never cause him trouble again,” Wen Ruohan said, even though it was pointless: if he wasn’t going to let Lan Qiren return, then such warnings were unnecessary. “Or else this will not end so lightly.”

Qingheng-jun sneered at him.

Wen Ruohan sneered back and dropped him, turning back to the door.

He would carry Lan Qiren back to the Nightless City himself, he decided. He would carry him in his arms as he flew on his sword, and make sure that he was untroubled throughout the entire journey.

His shining pearl.

He’d take good care of it.

[bbhyeoliskooks]

Could you possibly do a reaction to TXT when their s/o tells them they struggle with anxiety?

༻﹡ 𝐈 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 ﹡༺

➶ TXT’s Reaction to Their S/O Telling them they Struggle with Anxiety.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺ 

Genre: A few pinches of angst and an overflowing amount of fluff~

Warnings: Talking about anxiety and attacks, unedited, very cheesy stuff as always !

( I’m so sorry that it took so long to get to you!! As an apology, I did a bit more writing than the usual bullet points hehe~ So i hope you enjoy! I really liked writing this since I relate a lot and anxiety takes over me sometimes. just know that i’m always here for you, alright 🥺💕 ? whoever you are, whoever you love, I’m here to listen to all your problems. Always.)

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

﹡﹡ Yeonjun: ﹡﹡

Was everything alright?

Right off the bat, Yeonjun could see the shadow of your nervous stature linger at the door of your bedroom. He wondered so silently why you stayed there for a while, not making a move to take a step into the room he thought made you feel at ease. Did he do something wrong? He couldn’t recall what happened earlier other than the two of you watching movies while you talked about your day... did anything set you off?

Well, he remembered that you weren’t paying much attention to his words at the end of his conversation. He couldn’t blame you. He must’ve been droning off and off about those fancy yet stupid pants he found hilarious to be on himself when he looked in the mirror the other day, so there’s no reason why you’d lose interest during the demise of his story. Plus, you were dozing off or something. He assumed you were going to fall asleep since it was already reaching one am, so he invited you to the two of yours’ bedroom, getting up from the couch with a content smile from how relaxed you’d been with him. 

Now though, he could sense that something was clearly wrong. You were never reluctant to enter the room like this before if he remembered correctly. Yes there were the shy wonders if you were barging into his personal space, but that was what being a couple was. He was right there for you, and right there you’d always be too. He loved you so dearly, but at this moment he couldn’t figure out why you were acting so sheepishly in front of him. 

All of a sudden when he least expected it, the timid shakiness of your voice reached his ears, bundling up into a jumble of words he couldn’t understand until he replayed it in his mind over and over again. 

“I need to tell you something. I... I struggle with anxiety, Jun.”

So that was what it was?

The boy couldn’t help himself, arising from the soft mess of the covers which slid off the bed when he got up. He was worried for really nothing, but he was so glad you trusted him enough to tell him this. He knows how hard it is and the fact that you told him even if it was difficult for you? It was the very least to say he treasured you more than anyone his entire life had known when he comprehended that. 

Reaching out to hold you, he trapped you in his signature but soft bear hug while you gasped soundlessly. Out of all the reactions, you were least expecting something as heartwarming as this... 

His nose made its way to your neck, burying itself quietly while the whispers of his soft, gentle voice tickled your right ear. You melted into his arms upon hearing him comfort you sweetly, letting him hold you in his embrace with no protests. As always, his hugs gave you the most warmth when you were least expecting it, and you were extremely grateful for that. 

No matter what your boyfriend did, you weren’t able to resist him even if it was so hard to tell him what you were struggling with. Of course you knew he’d understand right away being the kind gentleman he is, but the skipping beats of your heart proved you wrong in so many ways. 

What if he judged you? What if he thought this was taboo because he hadn’t experienced it many times before? What if he thought you were making up lies just like the others?

What you hadn’t expected was for him to bring you closer in, roping you to his arms where he allowed you to stay for the time being- to stay forever if you’d like. His comforting scent traveled through your nose with every breath you took, slowly but surely becoming engrossed by the only person you had only dearly loved your whole life. 

“I know that it’s really hard, baby, but I know you can do it like you’ve always had. Remember that whenever you’re going through these times, I’m right here for you, alright? And it’s not because I can benefit through it by giving you the best hugs ever or being your wonderful boyfriend many others are jealous of... it’s because I love you.” 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

﹡﹡ Soobin: ﹡﹡

He didn’t know. You never told him anything in your three month relationship in fear he would judge you for it. You thought it would be the best showing the best face you could effortlessly mask on even when the days grew hard. But now? You were so tired. You were so tired, and everything finally came down crashing on you when you least expected it. 

What a way to tell your boyfriend that you dealt with worries horribly. And what other way could that be? 

Through an anxiety attack. 

It could’ve been an ordinary day. It should’ve been an ordinary day! You weren’t going to think that something terrible would happen to a close relative that you couldn’t visit right away since the two of you were so far. One of your closest friends called to let you know while you were at home watching a film with Soobin, but it felt like the whole world fell onto your shoulders just like that.

It’d always been like this. They had health problems in their life and no matter what you did, you weren’t able to help them and it gradually built up in your mind. 

Disappointments piled on your heavy chest as you felt the ability to easily breathe become less and less. Several chills ran down the valley of your back and your throat was parched with no words to say, not even the words of goodbye to that friend of yours who was calling and shouting through the phone. Luckily, Soobin wasn’t there to see all of this and was currently in the bathroom to do his business. Otherwise he would’ve seen you like a mess, and you didn’t want any such thing to happen under any circumstances.

Today was different. You wanted so desperately for him not to see you like this; you should’ve been calm and collected like always in front of him. 

But what you didn’t know was that your boyfriend could see everything that was wrong with you. He could clearly see that you were in distress but trying not to let it get the best of you. Was it due to pride? He hadn’t ever seen you like this so it was surprising to him, but he needed to do the best he could as someone who loved you more than anything.

“Love, is everything alright? You seem to be...” He couldn’t find the word to describe it but his voice to you was just as calming as always even if you didn’t want him to figure out you didn’t do well with anxiety. 

“Everything is fine... everything is fine- no wait, Soobin, nothing is okay. I’m such a wreck. I just can’t relax tonight when something horrible is going on. I have never told you this but you should know that I struggle with anxiety.”

He didn’t understand, but that was okay. 

He allowed himself to sit down next to you, immediately protecting you in his arms as tears welled up in your eyes. You were shaking as if it was the last thing you were able to do and he himself internally panicked since he wasn’t sure what to do. He wasn’t sure if he should , opting to squeeze you tighter but not enough to deplete the rest of the air you were struggling to take in your lungs.

Placing his chin on the top of your head while you clung onto his shoulder, he whispered sweet words into your ear that he hoped would calm you down. Something along the lines of permitting yourself to cry through it or letting you know that he’d always be right there for you, but one you remembered so clearly was when he kissed your forehead, saying:

“I love you.”

It was the first time you heard him say those words. 

-༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺ -

﹡﹡ Beomgyu: ﹡﹡

Ultimately, Beomgyu knew you had troubles with anxiety although you never told him. Never once in your life did you recall telling him about this conflict since you weren’t sure how he’d take it but maybe you slipped up somehow. He said you didn’t and you couldn’t understand him in the first place. How did he realize that? Well according to him, he just knew. 

After being a couple for several months and almost a year, he tried to get to know everything about you. About how you’d fall asleep in his chest whenever you got the chance, but too shy to ask him randomly. How you’d gaze at him with pure eyes whenever he got out the guitar to sing to you whenever you pleased. Or how you’d look out into the window while having a date with him, becoming entranced with the stars while instead he became enamored with you. 

So when your breathing became labored or how you’d tremble whenever you were caught in an uncomfortable situation, he made a promise deep down in his heart that he’d protect you every single time. After all, that was what a great boyfriend was supposed to do, right? And every day he strove to get to that wonderful place as you reassured him. 

It was only until then when he brought you out of an awkward situation that you told him about your anxiety. You had just arrived home from dancing all night with him and he was going to go get some punch for you guys until he spot you in the corner of the room, face white with panic when a drunk man approached you. 

Instantly he found his feet shuffling away from the table, dropping the drinks in hand to run to you who was paralyzed in place, unsure of what to do. He yelled for your name, but you just weren’t able to hear him with all of that talking and blasting music which only served as a distraction he wanted to get out of the way.

He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself ever if a man like that touched you in a way you didn’t want. And he sure as hell wouldn’t like it at all if they violated you at any time they oh so desired.

Just in time when they were going to grab your arm, he cradled you in his arms, feeling you melt into his embrace because he was your safe place you could count on. Your throat was too parched that you weren’t able to choke out a soft thank you to him, but the look in your eyes when you looked at him told him everything.

The drunk person grunted at this and Beomgyu shot them a death stare. Considering that he was very much taller than them (but still tiny, he’s a bb what do you expect), they became intimidated and headed straight for the dance floor. Yes, Beomgyu didn’t want that person to do the same to anyone else, but as of right now you were his first priority he wasn’t ever going to let go of. 

“It’s okay, baby. I’m right here, and I’ll always be right here. I’m your knight in shining armor, remember?”

The corners of his lips lifted up gently as he kissed you on the forehead, rubbing your back with his hands delicately while you held him tighter. If there was nothing else he wanted to do more in the world, it would definitely be swaying with you outside as the music blasting from the inside found its way to your ears. You were simply precious to him and he wasn’t going to waste time being your boyfriend because he’d want to marry the love of his life instead. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

﹡﹡ Taehyun: ﹡﹡

“I can’t do it... I just can’t.” You stared at the project beneath your hands, gazing into the abyss where no progress was getting done. This was all your fault, your stress was building up due to the amount of assignments your teachers kept giving you every single damn day, but now this stupid project that had been there for a month, waiting for you to get to it like you always thought you would. Now it was the night before it was due. It obviously wasn’t going to get done by itself and you knew that for a fact, but you just needed a break.

And these things too... 

What if you didn’t get it done in time? What if everyone finds your project to be a dumb waste of money? How were you going to present when it was only half finished and worked on just the date before it was due?

Presenting was one thing too; you didn’t work well with them under such pressure of easily being judged. You were so tired but it’s on you for not working on it earlier. However, how could you with all the homework you were getting?! Now the teachers would be disappointed in you, and not to mention you yourself as well since you knew you could’ve done much better. 

The clock hand reached 12am and Taehyun wondered what you were doing up so late on a school day. Normally you’d take care of your health but he wasn’t sure why you’d do something like this when it was important to get some shut eye. He opened the door to your room, holding a cup of water just to see you holding your head in your hands in distress. The anxious and shaky raise of your chest every time you took a breath in wasn’t something he ever experienced before, but he knew right away what was wrong.

But what was he supposed to say in order to make you calm down? He wanted to help you so much, however he didn’t know what to do at all. He was supposed to be smart! He was supposed to help you with anything you ever needed! But here he was, standing in the doorway like a fool as he watched you sweat 

“I don’t do well with anxiety, Tyun. I never have and now it’s my fault that I’m acting like this.” Even speaking was hard to do because of your dry Sahara Desert mouth.

It was like he figured out, and in the end like he predicted- he was right. 

Without a lingering moment he draped his arms on your shoulders, holding you gently as his chin slowly buried into the nap of your neck. A light tune he hummed soon turned into singing which surely made you calm down under a few minutes, but he didn’t allow himself to pull away from your quivering body. You didn’t know that he was going to stay up with you as well and be there once you finished it. Truly he believed that you would pull through; you always did under situations like this, and he couldn’t be more proud of you than he was now.

His voice was pleasant, soft to your ears as he sang “Over and Over Again.” You could feel yourself being lulled to sleep like you deserved but the giggles in your ears made you jolt up in surprise. Every sign of being nervous disappeared under in instance thanks to him and you looked back to see him grin at you with shining stars in his eyes. 

“You can do it, Y/N. I believe in you so you too should believe in yourself,” he murmured under his breath, unsure if you had heard him. You had, and it was the very least to say you were thankful the universe gave you such a beautiful present like Taehyun in your life. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

﹡﹡ Kai: ﹡﹡

Ice cream dates were the best with Kai! Especially on hot days like these where you could hang out on the porch together with him, talking about anything that crossed your minds. It was the best Saturday you’ve ever had in your whole entire life, the melting ice cream cones dripping down a colorful streak onto your arms, but none of you paid any attention to it. 

His giggle was simply the cutest thing to hear and wow, did that give you a whole rush of serotonin. He was telling you about how Yeonjun abused his plushies during an m/v and how he got revenge by saying Yeonjun’s hair could be a bird nest from how dead and crispy it was. After dying it that is. And he was being honest though, wasn’t he?! Was he wrong?! Countless snorts from laughing and snickers earned the two of you weird yet not surprised glances from Soobin who was opening the blinds every few minutes just to check up on the two of you from time to time. 

It was during times like these where you wondered how you’d cope if he left you. Especially during cheerful times when you laughed with him because you weren’t sure if it was going to be the last time. With his smiles however, he told you much differently. That sugary sweet smile he shot at you whenever you were worried with something was one thing you never wanted to lose. And yet, they’d assure you every time that he would never ever lose the brightness in his life. 

You figured this was the perfect time to finally tell him after such a long time of keeping it in the dark. A year of a beautiful relationship shouldn’t have much secrets when it came to things like these. You were just hoping at this point that Kai would still love you and realize your worth even with problems like this. 

“Do you remember when I was stressing over that one presentation and how I’d shake terribly?”

It got quiet all of a sudden and you stole a glance at him to see him gazing at you with his head tilted to the right side. His reaction made you feel nervous and your hands trembled, but you had to remain calm. Kai wouldn’t do anything to set you off, now wouldn’t he? He’s a sweetheart, there’s no way he would hurt you like he promised when he asked you to be his. 

“Oh yes, I clearly remember. I don’t know what happened, but I wasn’t sure how to bring it up with you. I didn’t want to be insensitive with you so I never brought it up so you wouldn’t be uncomfortable.”

At that very moment, you knew the pure boy deserved the world more than anyone else. Well, more than the world in your opinion, but he was so sweet just like the ice cream you ate a few minutes before!

“Well, that’s the thing. I’ve never told you this, but I struggle with anxiety. I’m really thankful that you calmed me down that time, otherwise I’m not sure what I would’ve done without you.” The last words from your voice gradually became tiny, gliding along with the summer breeze that flowed past the two of you. 

Great, now everything was awkward. 

A couple minutes of silence passed by. The corners of his lips were turned into a huge smile from side to side, and you were extremely confused at this reaction. You weren’t sure what he was thinking but hopefully he wouldn’t judge you or anything like that. Your brain was in the wrong for thinking he would leave you for this, but it was a habit that formed whenever life happened. 

“Bubs, hold my Molang! You can have this one, it’s my favorite one so I hope they’ll be able to calm you down for now.” He pushed the plushy in your hands and you couldn’t help the grin that finally found your face. What was he supposed to say anyway? 

“But in all serious though,” he noted, dabbing your nose with a spot of his favorite ice cream flavor, “I’m so glad you trusted me because you know I’ll always be right here for my favorite penguin~”

---

Posted: 2/28/21- 10:30pm

Tags: 

[peachyteez]

angel nurse ≫ DAY FOUR, HEHETMON

this fox hybrid was brought into the recovery facility covered in scratches, whip marks, blood, and every other injury you could imagine. due to this, yeosang has trouble trusting humans, as he was afraid they could just hurt him all over again. until he meets jiyu, his “angel nurse”.

PART OF THE HEAVEN SERIES.

✧ taglist: @defsoul15​, @jaeminpeachy​, @joongiebug, @sunsethw4​, @t-tbinnie​, @chanyeolol​, @danibookmarks​, @hello-its-ya-boi​, @murralyn​, @alienmashup​, @panini​, @moon8894​, @koasworld​, @taetae123094​, @luv3rxcha​, @treasure-hwa​, @etherealbyeol​, @hwaseongzzz​, @lovely-sanie​, @orbitiiny​, @pirate-of-the-dark-seas​, @babydolljo​, @ms-starlight​, @everrrlasting​, @bls-luv-me​, @atzgiggle​, @arohabyeol​, @rainbowmagicpixecorn​, @soverystupid​, @ayetothezee​, @kingalls00​, @sanstreasure0305​, @sparklingmallow​​, @peachseok

✧ notes: i’m missing the boys extra today and i don’t know why :(

back。| next。

“ji, we’ve been standing here for ten minutes now. are you sure you’re going in?” yeonjun whispered, not wanting to alarm the fox hybrid on the other side of the door.

“shh! give me a minute, jun!” she whisper-shouted back. 

“it’s been ten!”

“well give me another one!”

yeonjun sighed. “it’s not like you to be so nervous about visiting a patient,” he pointed out. 

“i know...it’s just...i know how he feels since i can relate to his situation to some extent,” she meekly admitted. “a lot of people left me alone for a while after i left home so i guess i did the same towards him.”

with an understanding and gentle smile, yeonjun reassuringly gave her a pat on the shoulder. “then don’t let him wallow in his own thoughts alone, otherwise it’ll be much harder for you to pull him out,” he advised before walking off and waving at her over his shoulder. “good luck, i’ll go check on taehyun.”

waving after him, she took a deep breath and looked at the door once more. “let’s go,” she mumbled to herself encouragingly before entering the code to the keypad.

the door slid open to reveal the fox hybrid on sitting on his bed. in front of him was a foldable table, some paper, and...pencils and colored pencils? is he drawing?

yeosang’s eyes widened when he spotted jiyu at the door and his ears started to twitch. unable to keep eye contact with her, he glanced away and at the wall next to her instead. the cream-colored wall looked very interesting to him at the moment.

“um...hello! i’m here for your checkup,” jiyu said with a small smile, holding up her folder with his papers in them. “is that okay?”

silence. 

while it seemed as if yeosang was uncomfortable on the outside, his mind was yelling at him to at least respond. yeosang, please, you literally spent most of last night promising and hyping yourself up to make an attempt to interact with her.

jiyu felt her smile slightly faltering at the awkward atmosphere. “o-or i can go ask seojin—”

“...it’s fine,” yeosang said, practically whispering. “y-you can do whatever you n-need.”

“are you sure?” she asked, sensing his hesitation. 

yeosang nodded before putting the pencils and colored pencils away and neatly folding the table. although he was trying his best, he still couldn’t look at her in the eyes. but jiyu was still ecstatic at his baby steps. progress was progress, and it was the thought that counted the most.

“okay, i’m going to put this part,” she gestured to the round, metal part of the stethoscope, “to your chest. it’ll let me hear your heartbeat.”

seeing his tense expression, she couldn’t help but feel a wave of deja-vu hit her. it’s like when i did this with seonghwa. she realized. she couldn't help but quietly giggle at the similarities between the two. 

yeosang slightly tilted his head at her giggle, yet said nothing about it. “g-go ahead,” he gave her the okay.

feeling the cold metal touch his chest, he slightly flinched before relaxing. he had to constantly remind himself that she wasn't going to hurt him. whether he fully trusted seojin when he told him that, he wasn't sure, but he still found the smallest bit of solace in those words. 

“okay, your heart seems to be beating normally,” jiyu mumbled, deciding to not mention how fast his heart was racing. “now, temperature...” she said, taking out a thermometer. 

yeosang’s eyes widened at the thermometer. it reminded him too much of the scanner that the breeding facility used to scan their collars every morning and night. 

“are you okay?” jiyu asked, seeing his scared gaze at the thermometer. “i promise, this is only to take your temperature. look.” putting the thermometer up to her own forehead, she pressed the button and a beep sounded, indicating that it took her temperature. she showed yeosang the numbers on the small screen. “see? it’s nothing harmful.”

yeosang said nothing, but his body visibly relaxed. taking it as a good sign, she gently brushed the front pieces of his blonde hair away before taking his temperature. and just like she said, nothing bad happened. 

after a few more steps to the checkup (and some reassuring that the blood pressure machine wouldn't cut off his blood circulation even though it was extremely tight), jiyu happily smiled. “you did good today, yeosang. i really appreciate you allowing me to conduct a checkup,” she said. 

noticing some papers on the table underneath his documents, jiyu curiously glanced at them and aw’ed at the small, cute drawing. she figured it must’ve been yeosang’s. “this is so adorable,” she squealed. on the paper was a small, cartoon-like character that was holding a flower, and had the most adorable smile.

yeosang’s fox ears stuck to the side of his head while his human ones turned red out of embarrassment. he had forgotten he’d left his drawings there. 

“oh! my apologies, i didn't mean to snoop,” she sheepishly said, setting the paper back down. “but i really meant it when i said it was adorable.”

“...hehetmon,” yeosang whispered, his ears still burning. 

jiyu tilted her head in confusion. “pardon?”

“it’s name. i named him hehetmon...” he said again, trailing off towards the end. he felt weird since it was out of character for him to be conversing with a human. 

nervously glancing up at jiyu, he was surprised to see the look of adoration and awe in her eyes. if they had been in a cartoon, her eyes would’ve been sparkling. 

“wait, that's literally so adorable,” she said, looking down at the drawing once again. it portrayed the inner child in yeosang, it showed her how maybe there was a glimmer of light still left in him despite the mental scars. 

“you know,” jiyu mindlessly said, her eyes never leaving the drawing. “i kind of know how you feel, being abandoned and all that...”

yeosang’s eyebrows furrowed at her words. impossible. there’s no way that a human could even understand an ounce of what—

“you’re probably thinking that there’s no way a human could understand, right?” she wryly smiled at his shocked expression. “you’re right, though. i may not understand completely, but i still know what it feels like to be left behind and used.”

in his eyes, i’m just a tool for his and the company’s benefits.

snapping out of her trance-like state, she gently smiled at yeosang. “i’m sorry, i rambled quite a bit. but i hope that no matter what life throws at you, no matter how many curveballs the universe throws at you, that you keep yourself grounded. even if it means drawing thousands and thousands of your hehetmons,” she said before making her way towards the door. 

“um...”

turning around, jiyu’s eyes practically bulged out of her head when she saw yeosang standing behind her and offering her one of the hehetmons he drew. embarrassed, yeosang looked away as his cheeks and ears burned pink. “m-maybe it’ll make you happy, too—” he tried justifying.

a small grin spread on jiyu’s face as she accepted his drawing, feeling so many emotions swell in her chest. heck, she could've cried, as it was the sweetest gesture she’s received from him. “thank you, i’ll treasure it.” 

from her tone, yeosang could sense how the genuinely meant it, and how much she appreciated it. it gave him a sense of comfort that maybe there really was someone that not only appreciated hehetmon, but also his existence.

she tucked the drawing safely away in the folder as she left, saying goodbye to yeosang. 

“oh, jiyu!” seojin caught up with her in the hall. “i see you managed to visit yeosang,” he smiled. “how was it?”

“he...seemed to open up a lot more today,” she smiled. “and i came to realize that there just might be a little spark of light in him left. despite everything he went through.”

catching a glimpse of a drawing in the folder, seojin chuckled. “trust me, i think the sparks of light will grow brighter soon,” he mumbled.

“did you say something?” 

“huh? nope, nothing at all!” he boyishly smiled, his fangs peeking through.

she playfully scoffed, jostling him with her shoulder, although he didn’t even budge. “i’ll pretend you didn’t say anything, then.”

“how rude, miss.”

and she really did treasure the drawing yeosang gave her.

that night, after dinner, mingi spotted a new drawing on the fridge door. he knew none of them had done it, considering how horrible they were at art (minus hongjoong, but mingi knew it wasn’t something he would draw). “who drew this?” he asked jiyu who had entered the kitchen again after running taking a shower. 

“seonghwa’s twin!” she chirped, laughing when seonghwa whined out of confusion from the couch as he played animal crossing.

twisting around away from the tv screen, he pouted. “i swear i’m an only child!”

[wherever-the-chaos-is]

Lan Wangji’s communication skills and other misunderstandings

I think Lan Wangji is good at talking and can express himself well. But he restrains himself from speaking his mind and his heart for various reasons or would prefer to express his intentions through action. Just because he’s quiet and introverted, doesn’t mean he’s bad at communicating.

I know there’s already a post explaining how Lan Wangji’s speech works in Chinese in terms of syntax and pragmatics, and I think that this can be translated well in English (or in other languages). To be able to pack as much meaning in as few words as possible and to be able to adjust your speech according to the receiver are such huge signs of intelligence, wit, and skill in any language, which is something Lan Wangji is able to accomplish.

Some of my favorite descriptions related to Lan Wangji’s way of expressing himself are the following:

Chapter 73:

"Lan WangJi rarely spoke when he was outside. Even when they debated cultivation techniques during Discussion Conferences, he only answered when others questioned or challenged him. With utmost concision, he overcame, without fault, the lengthy arguments of others. Apart from this, he almost never spoke up."

Chapter 120:

"It definitely wasn’t out of cutting corners that Lan WangJi’s comments were short. He wouldn’t slack off in the slightest way, no matter how simple the task was. Rather, it was his habit to be as concise as possible, no matter in words or writing." 

Chapter 94:

"Looking at him, Wei WuXian felt a place in his heart go soft. He also thought it was funny. This one’d been like this ever since he was young. When he wanted something, he never said anything on the surface, but rather chased after it as much as he could in his actions."

Chapter 64:

Wei WuXian, “If he doesn’t wish to talk about something then I won’t ask.”

Lan XiChen, “But, with WangJi’s personality, how could he say anything if you do not ask? There are some things that even if you ask him he would not say.”

Chapter 126:

Wei WuXian, “That’s more like it. Just say it if you want some. You’ve really been like this ever since you were young, holding everything in and never saying what you want.”

In chapters 54 and 55, Lan Wangji talks so much after having been pushed to his physical and mental limits, answering Wei Wuxian’s remarks in anger and frustration. Lan Wangji also talks at length when he tells a story or relays information like when he tells the public version of Xiao Xingchen, Song Lan, and Xue Yang’s story in Chapter 29 and when he tells Wei Wuxian all about the Xuanwu of Slaughter also in chapters 54 and 55 (Seriously, go read those chapters. I can’t even quote it because Lan Wangji talks a lot and they have probably their longest conversations in the book in those chapters.)

Lan Wangji is also perceptive enough to know when he will not be understood the way he intends and can adjust himself well. 

Chapter 74:

Lan WangJi, “Speech is forbidden when dining.”

For Wen Yuan to understand, he repeated it again using simpler language, “Do not talk when you are eating.”

Wen Yuan quickly nodded and buried himself in the soup, not saying anything anymore.

When he is nervous, he can get a bit tongue-tied like the average person:

Chapter 111:

Lan WangJi stared straight at him. Something strange glowed in his eyes. He started, “Then…”

Wei WuXian, “Then what? Stopping in the middle of the sentence isn’t your style, Lan Zhan.”

To offer some comparison, Wei Wuxian who is even wittier, more verbose and just generally more talkative, also gets tongue-tied when nervous:

Chapter 95:

The surging heat finally began to retreat. Wei WuXian’s head was still dizzy as he rambled on, “In these two lives, you’ve helped me a lot. I know you’re… really nice to me. You’re really great! Apart from thank you, I don’t know what else to say to you… Anyways, towards you, I feel… I feel…”

But this wasn’t the point at all. Wei WuXian had never confessed like this to anyone before. Even someone whose face was as thick as his felt a bit embarrassed. He could only first pick a few random things to say. Just as he was thinking how to explain himself to make it sound sincere and serious when Lan WangJi suddenly pushed him away.

But once he is comfortable with someone or when his reasons for restraining himself are gone, he will speak his mind and heart. We can see this when he freely talks to Lan Xichen about the things Wei Wuxian has shared with him in Chapter 125. He can also be witty and a bit sassy, especially in the present time, as we can see everytime he throws Wei Wuxian’s words back at him or even makes subtle digs at Wei Wuxian:

Chapter 21:

After a few moments, the strings played two notes on their own. Wei WuXian quickly asked, “What did it say?”

Lan WangJi, “I do not know.”

Wei WuXian, “What?”

Lan WangJi replied in an unhurried manner, “It said, ‘I do not know’.”

“…” Wei WuXian looked at him, suddenly remembering a conversation about “whatever” a few years ago. Touching his nose, he was at a loss for words, and thought, Lan Zhan is so bright. He even learned how to make me speechless.

Chapter 25:

Suddenly, one of Lan WangJi’s arms wrapped around his back and, as Lan WangJi bent down slightly, another went toward the back of his knees.

[...] Carrying him, Lan WangJi both walked and replied to him steadily, “You said that you didn’t want to be carried on my back.”

Wei WuXian, “I didn’t say that I wanted to be carried like this either.”

Chapter 45:

Wei WuXian was also shocked. He turned to Lan WangJi, “Your sect makes disciples do handstands while copying? That’s awful.”

Lan WangJi replied calmly, “There would always be someone who did not learn their lessons by simply copying the sect rules. Handstands not only guaranteed better performance in the future but also benefited cultivation.”

Of course, Wei WuXian was the someone who never learnt his lessons. He pretended as though he didn’t know what Lan WangJi was talking about. (Chapter 45)

. He can even be smooth as shown in Chapter 126:

“Be honest about whether or not you thought about me in the same way.” In a solemn tone, he spoke, “Rejecting me like that so coldly every single time—it really made me lose face, don’t you know?”

Lan WangJi, “You can try, now, to see if I would reject you over anything.”

The sentence so suddenly struck his heart. Wei WuXian choked, yet Lan WangJi was still as calm as ever, as though he didn’t at all realize what he just said. Wei WuXian put his hand to his forehead, “You… HanGuang-Jun, let’s make a deal. Please warn me before you say something so romantic, or else I won’t be able to take it.”

Regarding his feelings for Wei Wuxian, apart from that moment in the cave after the Nightless City massacre, I don’t think he ever intended for Wei Wuxian to know his feelings since Wei Wuxian already told him he was straight (Chapter 54: "Don’t worry—I don’t like men, I won’t take advantage of the opportunity and do anything to you.”) and then kept giving him mixed signals wherein Wei Wuxian would flirt with him but then pass it off as a joke. Unfortunately, Wei Wuxian did not remember that one time Lan Wangji wanted Wei Wuxian know how he felt, which causes much of their misunderstanding in the present.

I would also like to point out that Wangxian didn't really have a miscommunication during that time as Wei Wuxian would acknowledge Lan Wangji's concern and basically go "Thanks, but no thanks. You’re wrong and I have everything under control." In fact, they actually reach an understanding in this conversation in Chapter 75:

A moment later, Wei WuXian spoke up, “Lan Zhan, you asked me if I intended on staying like this from now on. To be honest, I’d like to ask something as well. What can I do apart from this?”

He continued, “Give up the demonic path? Then what about the people on this mountain?

“Give them up? I won’t be able to do it. I believe that if you were I, you wouldn’t be able to do it either.”

He continued, “Nobody can give me a nice, broad road to walk on. A road where I could protect those I want to protect without having to cultivate the ghostly path.”

Lan WangJi gazed at him. He didn’t reply, but both of them knew the answer in their hearts.

There was no such road.

Look how smooth he is after he and Wei Wuxian got married. He finally knows and feels that he can freely express his love to Wei Wuxian in words, and he does just that in his elegant manner of speech

We can see here that Wei Wuxian has made his decision and all Lan Wangji could do is to respect it as a mere outsider in Wei Wuxian’s life.

In the present time, they have a misunderstanding but it is not borne from the lack of ability to express themselves. Rather, it is due to Wei Wuxian's impaired memory. Add to that the fact that Wei Wuxian has already made assumptions about Lan Wangji that are actually not completely true as we are shown throughout the novel. At this point also, Lan Wangji has already been rejected and pushed away many times and is under the impression that Wei Wuxian already knows his true feelings.

In conclusion, Lan Wangji can express himself well. It’s just that he’s quiet and prefers action over words. Communication or expressing one’s self is more than just the skill of being able to put your thoughts and feelings into words. There’s plenty of other reasons why someone might not be saying something. Conflicts in the novel are much more complex and aren’t just because of mere miscommunication or inability to talk and express themselves properly. Not all problems are resolved in a way that both parties unite and end up on the same side. Differences in judgments and views happen and the only resolution is just to agree to disagree.

[solarune]

drop out

@rasapad​ said: Hello! Here’s an idea: “Do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are?” + Renjun, and motorcyclist au… except let’s make it fun and have the reader as the one with the motorbike!

pairing: huang renjun x reader

genre: angst, some fluff, college au

warnings: swearing

word count: 1,996

a/n: my first renjun fic!! hopefully i got his characterization right, please let me know what you think!

Renjun has never been one to take risks. Before every choice he makes, he always makes a mental list of pros and cons, thinking of every single outcome possible and what they could potentially lead to. Do the pros outweigh the cons? Does this benefit him in the long run or this is only temporary? Will he get hurt? 

Renjun never takes risks but when it comes to you, it’s very hard to say no.

And that’s exactly how he finds himself on the back of your motorcycle, hands clasped together over your torso as he holds on for dear life while you zoom down the highway. You weave around cars and buses alike to avoid the traffic, some of them honking at the two of you, but unlike Renjun, you like taking risks. Where Renjun is logical, you’re emotional. Where Renjun is overthinking, you’re spontaneously doing. The two of you are exact opposites and it’s for that reason that you’re best friends and for that reason that Renjun caught feelings for you. How could he not? You’re everything he isn’t. You with your confidence, no bullshit attitude, easy laughter, and attention-grabbing aura. You’re everything he wants to be.

You reach a red light on the way to your destination and Renjun’s grip finally loosens to allow his hands to rest for a few seconds. The leather jacket that you’re wearing squeaks as you turn to look over your shoulder at him and you push the visor of your helmet up to reveal a bright smile. His heart skips a beat and he clears his throat, raising an eyebrow and asking in a bored voice, “So are you going to tell me where we’re going or are you just going to keep on driving? I would at least like to know which ditch I’m potentially going to be left for dead in because of this metal death trap you’ve forced me on to.”

You roll your eyes with a smile still on your face as one of your hands leaves the handlebars to gently hit his leg. “We’re not going to die, Junnie, you’ve been on my motorcycle enough times to know that! And-”

“And yet I still feel like I’m close to death every time I get on,” he interrupts you. “Funny how that works.”

“And no, I’m not telling you where we’re going,” you continue with a pointed look after his rude interruption. “It’s a surprise!”

“You know I hate surprises,” he grumbles but his words are lost in the sound of your motorcycle’s engine revving the second the light turns green. His grip on you tightens once more and when he lets out a squeak when he feels you accelerate, he prays to every higher power out there that you didn’t hear him. It would only cause you to go faster and it’s taking everything in Renjun to not press his entire body up against you and hide his face in your neck until you get to your destination.

Renjun doesn’t even notice that he falls asleep until you’re shaking him awake, soft voice calling out his name while the two of you just sit on your parked motorcycle. His vision is blurry from just waking up but it doesn’t explain why everything is dark and he begins to panic and is about to call out to you for help when he realizes that he’s still wearing your spare helmet.

“You’ve been overworking yourself, haven’t you, Junnie?” you question him as you take the helmet from his hands. “I don’t know why you keep doing this to yourself, you know that lack of sleep and caffeine just end up making you more tired.”

Renjun huffs as he rubs at his tired eyes. He knows that but-

“I can’t afford to waste any time, (Y/N). My classes as a second year music theory major are some of the hardest classes I’m going to take, I can’t afford to fail.”

The two of you have had this argument before; Renjun telling you that sacrificing proper sleep is necessary to maintain his perfect GPA and you telling him that taking a 15 minute break and getting at least 8 hours of sleep twice a week isn’t going to kill him. It’s like you’re both talking to a brick wall but neither of you are willing to back down. Renjun wants to succeed and you just want to keep your best friend alive and functioning. 

But you don’t argue with him this time. “I know,” you simply reply, and Renjun is taken aback. No snarky response? No threats to his life? What the hell is going on? “Anyways, we’re here!”

When he looks around, all he sees are trees and grass lit up only by the moon. That’s it, Renjun thinks to himself. I’m going to die here. You begin to walk deeper into the forest and Renjun scrambles off of your bike and runs to catch up with you, the darkness of the unfamiliar forest keeping him on edge. “Can you please tell me what we’re doing here?” he asks. He doesn’t care if he sounds scared or desperate because those are the only two things he’s feeling right now. “Because the more we walk, the more I feel like you’re going to murder me-”

The two of you emerge out onto a cliff and the entire city is laid out before you. It’s enough to take Renjun’s breath away as he stares down at all of the lights, and even in the dark, he can just make out all of the cars on the highway that you were on before. When he takes a deep breath and the cold night air enters his lungs, Renjun feels like he’s at the top of the world. When he looks over at you, he finds that you’re already looking at him with a fond smile on your face and Renjun can’t help but smile back. “This place is amazing, (Y/N)!” he exclaims. “How did you even find it?”

You take a seat on the edge of the cliff, your feet dangling off and swinging in the air, and you pat the ground beside you as a silent request for him to sit beside you. “I was just driving around one night looking for a place to think and just happened to come here.” You shrug and don’t even look up at him as you pull up handfuls of grass. “It’s been around a month since I first found it and I thought it was finally time to bring you here.”

Renjun only nods in response and a comfortable silence falls over the two of you while the wind and muffled sounds from the city provide you with background noise. 

“Do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are?” you ask randomly and Renjun swears he almost topples off the cliff from how fast his entire body turns to look at you. You’re staring up at the moon and even though you’re not looking at him, Renjun can tell that you have a strange look in your eyes. He doesn’t like that. “I’ve always thought that moon is pretty, but to be honest…” Your eyes finally meet his and a sad smile appears on your face. “I think you’re prettier.”

All Renjun can do is stare at you as he attempts to process what you just said to him. “Are you okay?” he asks, leaning forward to touch the back of his hand to your forehead. “Are you sick? Why are you being so weird tonight?”

You swat his hand away with a laugh, but the happiness on your face is short-lived and is immediately replaced by a somber expression. “I’m not sick, Junnie, I’m fine.” 

When Renjun looks at you, he can tell there’s more you want to say but you just don’t know how. So he waits in silence, allowing you to gather your thoughts and giving you the time that you need to say what you want. Maybe her dog died, Renjun thinks to himself, trying to think of every possible thing that could have happened that would cause you to be this serious around him. Or she had a bad day, maybe it was her idiotic chemistry lab partner. Or-

“I dropped out today,” you finally blurt out. “Like, out of college.”

All of the air feels like it just got knocked out of Renjun’s lungs. “You what? Why?” It’s okay, it’s fine, he reassures himself. She’s always been impulsive. Maybe she just needed this semester off and she’ll come back next year. And it’s not like I’ll never see her again.

“I’m moving to America to live with my sister.”

No.

“What the fuck, (Y/N)?” Renjun practically shouts as he jumps up from his seat on the ground. “This isn’t funny, stop joking around.”

“I’m not joking around, Renjun,” you say softly as you get up to stand in front of him. “I’m leaving in 2 weeks.”

Renjun. You never call him that. It’s always ‘Junnie’ or ‘Jun’ or ‘idiot’. Never ‘Renjun’.

His vision goes blurry and Renjun doesn’t even realize that he’s crying until he feels tears running down his cheeks. He wipes away at them angrily as he glares at you. “What the fuck were you thinking, (Y/N)? Why didn’t you tell me you were thinking of dropping out? I could have helped you, we could have figured this out together!”

“This is exactly why I didn’t tell you,” you respond, and Renjun can hear frustration in your voice. “I knew you would be like this. You wouldn’t understand-”

“Understand what?” he asks. “Understand that you just threw your entire life away?”

“Understand that this is me finally starting to live the life that I want!” you retort and at this point, you’re both shouting at each other. Your fights have never been like this before and the anger between you two is so visceral that it makes Renjun even more scared. “I don’t belong here, Renjun; in this school, this city, this country. There’s so many things the world has to offer that I wouldn’t ever learn in school and I want to find out what they are. I’m tired of sitting still. I want to do something.”

Renjun doesn’t know what to say at this point. You’ve always been restless but he didn’t think it would come to this. You’re taking a big risk and even though the decision was never his, he still feels scared.

“I’m not like you, Junnie.” Your voice is soft and when Renjun looks at you, all he sees is sadness and uncertainty, plain as day on your face. “There isn’t one thing I particularly like enough to study, I don’t have a dream job, I’m not passionate about something that’s able to make me a ton of money in the real world. At this point, I don’t even know what the hell comes after moving to America. But I need to get out of here.”

More silence. Renjun can’t bring himself to say anything. His mind is blank.

“I wish it wasn’t like this. I wish I could be like you,” you confess. “You’re always so sure of yourself, you always know the right choices to make to get to where you want to be. You’re so smart, Junnie. I wish I could be like that.”

Renjun’s hand balls up into a fist at his side. “You are smart, (Y/N), don’t you dare think otherwise. I may not agree with your decision but I always knew deep down that college isn’t meant for you.” 

He looks back out onto the view of the city. I’ve always wanted to be like her but she wants to be like me. How ironic. Now he knows why you brought him here after all this time. You were waiting for the right moment. “I just wish you weren’t leaving me.”

[txtmoalove]

CONFUSION(M)🔞

Pairing - Choi Yeonjun x Reader

Genre - Best Friends au! Smut, Comedy, Fluff.

Warnings! - Dom! Yeonjun, masturbation, sexual tension, dirty talk, phone sex.

Word count - 2k

Summery - what happens when a friendly conversation between friends , slowly becomes not so friendly anymore?

===============================

Before you start to read! It's my very first one shot and I hope you'll like it! I don't know if it went out well, so there's that...Enjoy❤

===============================

You two are the best of friends.

So why does Yeonjun keeps having wet dreams about you?

Plus, it's not really helping in his situation that your voice sounds so hot through the phone, not that it's not sexy in general.

It's night time , you lay on your bed with just your black panties on and a white skimpy tank top, you live alone and just finished college year, so now you just work and have fun on the weekends.

You hold your phone to your ear and listen to Yeonjun through the line.

It actually became a habit for you two to do nightly phone calls and just talk about stuff, you feel very open with Yeonjun and he feels the same.

"I don't know Jun.. If I'll go to that party you need to come with me, I don't want to go in there alone" you said and put your head on the pillow, looking up at the ceiling.

Your voice sounds extremely sexy and a bit lower than usual on your phone calls and Yeonjun wonders if you do this to him on purpose.

Besides your voice, Yeonjun thinks that you also look really hot in general..

He won't lie and tell that he haven't thought about fucking you, he's been turned on to the thought of you.

But it had been so weird for him because you are his best friend and he doesn't know why he even thinks about you this way, all the situation is very confusing to him but he always tries to brush it off.

But then you call him at night because you are bored, and he listens to your beautiful voice that always manages to make him hard.

He fantasized about you moaning and screaming his name, but then wants to forget about it completely because it's not right at all.

To these thoughts... Yeonjun had many wet dreams about you and then had to take care of his hard dick leaking with precum , to finish himself off.

But he manages to keep himself together.

"You think I'm gonna leave you behind ? Ha! You made me laugh, of course I'll come" he replies and you smile even though he can't see "you're the best, you know that?" You tell him and he laughs "yeah, I know"

you giggle "well, don't get too cocky-"

"The thing is" Yeonjun cuts you off and you huff "I don't know why should I come with you, I know at some point you'll find a hookup and I'll be drinking alone" he frowns but then giggles "wait that sounds really depressing, scratch the last part" .

You laugh "hey! It's not my fault, you should find a hookup as well, besides, I haven't slept with someone in a long time" Yeonjun sighs but you didn't hear.

"I haven't slept with someone else in a long time either , Y/n. But who knows? I'll still go don't worry, maybe the benefit is for both of us" the last part stings you a bit.

You've never thought about Yeonjun hooking up with someone, the thought never crossed your mind, and now that he mentioned it ... You got a bit curious.

A very long time ago, you had a little crush on Yeonjun and you still think he looks absolutely amazing, but then, you two got along in a friendly way and you got closer like that as well.

Why hasn't he slept with someone for a while? Who wouldn't want him?

And out of Your curiosity you ask him "really? You haven't slept with someone in a while? I thought you hook up a lot" and Yeonjun is a bit surprised from your question because you never ask about these things.

"Well.. yeah, just wasn't feeling like it" by that he means he has a big problem that he cums only to the thought of you choking on his dick.

"Oh..." You say and you don't know why you feel kind of relieved.

Of course, many girls swoon for him and only want to jump his bones.

You imagine how would it even be with Yeonjun in bed. Would he be rough and degrading? Or submissive and-

Nope nope. Why would you think about that... But then again, the image of him fucking you makes your lower region warmer.

"Y/n?" You hear Yeonjun through the line "are you okay?" Now you are focusing on his voice, you've never noticed how deep and husky it really sounds. You also haven't noticed how your breathing was getting a bit ragged.

All of the sudden it feels so weird.. But in a good way that gets you so confused , why are you thinking about these things right now?

"Y-yes" you clear your throat "I'm fine! I was just curious.. that's all."

Yeonjun hums and you press your thighs together for relief, already feeling yourself starting to get wet, oh boy what have you got into...

"Mind if I ask the same question?" He asks , the sexual tension was rising every moment and instead of changing the subject you answer "yes you can".

You bit your lip and wanted to face palm yourself.

"I-i just" you stuttered a bit "it was like, a dry time for me.. just focused more on learning, wasn't feeling like that as well" you said honestly.

"Yeah I get that" his voice just turned to be more husky? You're probably imagining things now.

Now the call turned a bit quiet, you still lay on bed with your legs crossed tight from previous thoughts, looking at the ceiling.

"I'm bored , Yeonjun" you stated to hopefully change the subject, he coughed a bit through the line and then answered "what do you want me to do?" He asked and you licked your lips.

`Probably eat me out.. I'm so horny right now.` you say to yourself.

Wait what?! That's it.

You quickly stand up from bed in panic and before you went out of your room, you hit your leg hard against the wood of the bed.

You let out a pained moan escape your lips and sat back down on your bed.

"Fuck" Yeonjun curses "Y/n , what happened?"

Yeonjun doesn't know what really happened , but all the time that he was hard through all your conversation, your moan got his dick to throb and twitch.

He cursed and bit his lip, threw his head back against the headboard and quickly asked you what happened.

He can't take it anymore, he starts to palm himself through his boxer , he hisses and waits for your reply.

"I'm okay! I just hit my leg , that's all.." You lay back down and caress your leg, letting out a few quiet pained hissed moans.

Yeonjun almost groans himself, working himself through his boxers as he listens to your voice "o-oh okay.." He replies and applied a bit pressure on his dick.

`so fucking hot, damn...` Yeonjun thinks to himself, what he does was wrong but he really can't help himself when you sound and look like that, that's really fucked up.

"Yeonjun..." You relax a bit and say his name sweetly .

"Yeah..?" His voice completely husky and sexy, you lick your lips and try to control your breathing. Without noticing , you open your legs and start to touch yourself from the inside of your thighs, you feel yourself getting wetter by every second.

"Don't take me seriously or something I'm just curious.. u-uh.. Like, how are you in bed? W-when you sleep with someone I mean" you hesitated but asked anyway , Yeonjun let's out a big sigh of pleasure as he was also surprised from your question, he likes where this was going.

"How am I in bed? Um.. I mean, I'm good I guess? It's just that for me, it's all about making my partner go crazy, I'm in complete control all the time and I love it" he answered boldly without any shyness.

Your hand moved to touch your clit through your panties, the other one brings your shirt to ride upwards and touch your stomach, all the way to your breast.

`Fuck so he's the Dom type..` you tell yourself and try to keep it down with your moans as you put your headphones on to hear him easily.

Your mind tells you to stop but your body is begging for it.

"Oh.. t-that's nice.." You tell and sigh , Yeonjun on the other Hand released his dick from his boxers and starts to touch himself properly, smearing his precum and uses it as lubrication.

"Now that you asked me Y/n..." he almost groans out loud "I wonder how are you like in bed.. Would you like to tell me?" Yeonjun asked you as he strokes himself in a slow pace.

You're getting so turned on by his voice, part of you wished he could see you sprawled over your bed in a hot mess with a hand between your legs just because of him.

"I'm the opposite actually" you start to gain a bit more confidence "I like it when my partner controls me and my actions, gives me orders , I like to be submissive and manhandled" you confess to him and now you hear his own growl , you heart beats faster and you moan quietly at that.

Wow what the fuck, Yeonjun is so sexy, why are you realizing it only now?!

"God... Y/n you don't know what you're doing to me.. You like it when someone has the complete power over you , and your little self is so helpless you'll let them do anything?" Yeonjun asks you and now you add one finger inside your dripping pussy, you let a lewd shameless moan.

You hear Yeonjun clearly curses through the line "Oh fuck yes.. just like that Yeonjun, you read my mind" you whine to him and he groans.

"Baby girl... You're touching yourself right now?" He asks you and you hum "How can I not when you turn me on so much..." He drives you wild. You add another finger and you moan once again from the pet name he gave you.

"You dirty girl, you like it when I tell you these filthy things huh? I bet you want me to come over and spank your pretty ass for being so bad" he growls "you don't know how hard I am just from hearing your beautiful voice, angel.." He confessed and you gasp.

"I have my t-two fingers inside of me because of you Yeonjun.. I'm imagining it's your dick stretching my tight pussy" you work yourself harder and the other hand simulates your clit, you moan deliciously at the thought.

"Fuck go on and moan for me baby... You sound so hot and needy" Yeonjun chokes on a moan as he imagines himself ruining you completely with his dick "you know how many times I jerked off to the thought of fucking you?" He picked up his pace and groaned "if you were here with me, I'd press you up against a wall and fuck you so hard you'll be screaming my name for the whole neighborhood to hear" he said and meant it.

"Y-yeonjun!" You moan his name, you think you're falling apart, every word that comes out of his mouth only want to bring your High faster, you never thought that he could turn you on so much.

"Want you to bend me over and fuck me until I'll beg for you to go even harder on me, I want you to manhandle me ... " you let out a high pitched moan and continued to mercilessly finger yourself with your two fingers.

"Dirty whore, who knew you'd be into that shit.." He smirks even though you can't see him and strokes himself harder, he bites his lips and then licks them "add another finger for me" he ordered.

You gasp as you add another finger, the stretch was burning but it felt amazing "Yeonjun! F-feels so good!" You whine and shake, it was too hot , you lifted up your shirt and threw it to the side, you also removed your panties from your ankles.

"So hot..." You moan and continued to touch yourself "I want your fingers Yeonjun.. Want you to finger fuck me" you say to him and he almost cums at your words.

"Baby girl, what are you doing to me, FUCK" he says in a dangerous tone and groans loudly, you moan with him.

You just listen to each other as you two almost reach your highs.

"If you won't let me hear how you cum... I don't know what I'm going to do to you when I see you.." He warns you "I'll be so rough with you and fuck you like the slut you are for my cock.." .

Your moans get louder and you pick up your pace , you other hand comes down to grab the sheets below you and hold on for dear life to your incoming orgasm.

"G-god Yeonjun you're making me cum!" You scream his name and he strokes himself even faster, the feeling was intense.

"Yes.. cum for me baby" Yeonjun pants as he almost let's go himself "I don't want to stop hearing your sexy voic-" he chokes on his words as he moans and finishes himself off, hot white cum spills onto his stomach and he breathes heavily.

His orgasm seems to trigger your own , because the second he cums you finish with him and you let out a loud long moan as you spasm all over, your orgasm hitting you hard.

You feel yourself dripping on your sheets below, your mind goes absolutely blank.

You only hear the two of you breathing through the line.

"Wow.. what just happened.." You barely speak as you close your eyes for a second.

"I don't know, but I fucking loved it" Yeonjun answered you as he lays fully on his bed now , he puts his head on his pillow.

You giggle "Yeah.. it was really amazing Yeonjun.. even though I can't believe we got ourselves into this situation" Yeonjun snorts.

"You're so hot , Y/n , you gave me blue balls for such a long time" Yeonjun confessed and you smile.

"You're not so bad yourself, Sir.."

[stiltonbasket]

How does Lan Wangji feel about Wei Wuxian's new title, Xinhua-jun?

The first time someone addresses him as something other than Honored Master Wei during an assembly, Wei Wuxian barely registers it.

But in his defense, he’s been up all night for a week straight, hurrying to get his irrigation talismans finished in time for the planting season, and the first batches have just been shipped off with a handful of Lan-trained shidao cultivators accompanying them to supervise.

All Wei Wuxian wanted to do was sleep, after that. It’s a wonder that he stayed awake long enough to  attend the conference at all, which is why he doesn’t realize what the petitioners from Moling called him until he takes a soak in his bathtub that night and asks Lan Zhan to rub his shoulders for a while.

“How was the assembly?” Lan Zhan asks, while Wei Wuxian raises the temperature of the bathwater until the washroom fills up with steam. The ability to take long, hot baths without harming his cultivation is the only good thing that came from losing his golden core, and Wei Wuxian made sure to bathe in heated tubs as often as he could after his resurrection; he used to envy the Jiang shimeis in his childhood, since heat only benefits cultivators with excess  yin energy, but now...

“Wei Ying?”

“Oh!” Wei Wuxian sighs and straightens his back before reaching up to pat his husband’s arm. “It was fine, I suppose. The Su cultivators presented their case, Uncle and I went through it, and then we agreed to all their demands except the one about Moling receiving a sixth of Gusu’s tax revenue.”

“A sixth?”

“They don’t have enough noble families living within their borders,” he says absently, making a small sleepy sound of approval as Lan Zhan pats the tension out of his neck. “The Lai and Xu clans relocated to Qinghe last year, and the Liao family—you remember that clan whose little mistress proposed marriage to Jingyi this spring?— they moved to Laoling the year before that, and they all paid enough taxes to keep the Su clan comfortable.”

Lan Zhan’s hands withdraw from his neck and reappear in his hair a moment later, covered in the sweet-smelling hair soap Wei Wuxian makes from the lotus pond in the back hills. “Did they—treat you well?”

It’s a sensible question, Wei Wuxian supposes, even if the worry in his husband’s voice makes his heart ache with love for him. “Better than most Moling cultivators usually do, Lan Zhan. It was all Xiandu this and Xinhua-jun that, until—”

“They called you Excellency?”

The conversation comes to a swift end at the realization, because Wei Wuxian accidentally swallows a mouthful of foamy water and chokes on it until Lan Zhan helps him cough it up. And then they have to get ready for dinner, and coax the children into finishing it before they fall asleep in their bowls, which is why Wei Wuxian doesn’t think about the conference again until after hai shi. 

When the truth of Su She’s association with Jin Guangyao came to light—as Wei Wuxian recalls when Lan Zhan and the little ones are safely asleep—most cultivators from Moling Su seemed to detest Wei Wuxian more than they did while he was dead, if Jiang Cheng’s spies were to be believed. As a matter of principle, none of them even attended Wei Wuxian’s wedding, and offered nothing but flimsy excuses when Lan Xichen traveled to Moling to deliver the invitations in person; and since then, they preferred to keep their distance from him, and would likely have continued to do so if Xichen hadn’t been in Baling for the month to see his new baby grandson.

But today’s petition had been urgent, so Wei Wuxian had to stand in as Lan-zongzhu by proxy while his husband and brother-in-law (not to mention A-Yuan and Jingyi, who accompanied Lan Xichen to Baling) were occupied elsewhere, and none of the Su cultivators were discourteous to him in the slightest.

Oh, no,” he groans, as Lan Zhan tries to hush him with a kiss. “This can’t be good, Lan Zhan. They ordered their city magistrates to send word if I crossed the Moling border, and they turned Xichen-ge down  again  when he invited them to Chun-bao’s hundred-day feast—you don’t think they’re planning something, do you?”

Lan Zhan only gives him a fond look and kisses him again. “Go to sleep, A-Ying,” he says gently. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

*    *    *

When Wei Wuxian married into the Cloud Recesses nine years ago, the question of his formal title remained unsettled until after the month before his and Lan Zhan’s first wedding anniversary. If he were a woman, the cultivation world would have known him as Lan-furen, and that would have been the end of it: but Wei Wuxian was a man with no title save that of the Yiling Patriarch, and even Lan Zhan was at a loss when his uncle asked what he should be called following the wedding.

“Third young master Lan?” Wei Wuxian suggested, absently petting Xiao-Yu’s fluffy hair. “Or Wei-gongzi? It doesn’t really matter, Shufu.”

“Third young master Lan is unsuitable,” Lan Qiren pointed out, plopping another baby rabbit into Xiao-Yu’s lap. “Xichen is the sect leader, and Wangji is the Chief Cultivator. Neither of them can rightly be called gongzi any longer, so the titles of first and second young master must pass to Sizhui and Jingyi.”

They settled on Lan-san-gongzi in the end, mostly because everyone already knew that Sizhui and Jingyi were the first and second heirs to the Lan sect, but then Lan Xichen (who remains the best brother-in-law Wei Wuxian could ever have hoped for) came to bring Wei Wuxian his lunch one afternoon while he was working in the produce field, and laughed himself silly at the sight of his difu  talking to a particularly stubborn lotus bloom in an effort to get it to grow.

“What a happy flower, to be so doted upon!” he chuckled, passing Wei Wuxian a wet cloth so he could clean his hands and sit down to eat. “Xinhua-jun, xiao-hua, be good for A-Xian and grow, won’t you?”

And then a strange excited grin spread across his face, right before he dropped the lunch boxes into Wei Wuxian’s arms and ran back towards the main compound as fast as his legs could carry him.

Wei Wuxian’s students have called him nothing but  Xinhua-jun  ever since, even though it was more of a pet name than a  title. But it never caught on outside the Cloud Recesses, since most of Nie Huaisang’s court is much older than he is, and Yunmeng still knows him as Wei-zongzhu from the year he spent leading Yunmeng Jiang before he and Lan Zhan were married; and the less said about Lanling Jin the better, even if Jin Ling and Mianmian have been ferreting out the last two sect leaders’ supporters ever since A-Ling succeeded Jin Guangyao.

The thought of his title becoming common knowledge in  Moling of all places gives Wei Wuxian a chill down the spine, and he says as much the next evening while going over the reports of young women’s education rates from Gusu’s subsidiary sects.

“Who could possibly have told them? It’s very suspicious,” he grumbles, answering a plaintive letter from a particularly pompous scholar who insisted it was far too much work for his colleagues to teach the boys in the morning and stay three hours longer to teach the girls in the afternoon. Teach them both in the same class, Wei Wuxian writes back, snorting at the man’s foolishness as his daughters climb into his lap to peer curiously at the scroll. If any of the young ladies’ parents prefer their daughters be taught separately from the boys, the Cloud Recesses will send a delegation of lady tutors to Xibei and have a second school built.  

“Suspicious?” Shuilan pipes up, before pointing to one of the characters on the scroll. “That’s part of my name! It says shui!”

“Very good!” Wei Wuxian smiles, kissing the top of A-Lan’s head. “Chun-bao, can you find any?”

Chunyang nods shyly against his neck. “A-Chun see cloud,” the baby says, happily smudging the  yun  in  yunshen buzhichu with her little hands before snuggling down into Wei Wuxian’s silky robes. “A-Die, eat? A-Chun is hungry.”

Wei Wuxian glances up at the sky and cries out in dismay as he notices that night has nearly fallen. “Come, come—but A-Lan, sweetheart, put your socks on first! It’s cold in the kitchen, and I don’t want to leave you here all alone.”

“I’m a big girl,” A-Lan complains, as Wei Wuxian laughs again and slides a pair of soft slippers onto her dimpled feet instead. “Can’t I stay with gege?”

“Gege’s taking a bath,” Xiao-Yu shouts—from the bathroom, naturally, since he spends his afternoons getting delightfully muddy in the produce field and moseys back home by sunset with grubs and leaves and rich black earth clinging to his clothes. “Be a good Lan-bao and go with A-Niang.”

At twelve years old, Xiaohui has finally settled on a course of cultivation study, surprising everyone but his parents by deciding he wanted to learn natural cultivation instead of following the martial dao, and he and Wei Wuxian have been working on agricultural talismans together for the past two years; Xiao-Yu even had a hand in the talismans Wei Wuxian just sent out for the border territories, since Wei Wuxian relies on his son’s spiritual energy to activate them. He is so very proud of Xiao-Yu, grubs and mud and all, and Wei Wuxian throws back his head and laughs when his tall son rolls into the kitchen half an hour later with his hair pinned up in a damp knot at the back of his neck.

“Is supper ready, A-Niang?” Xiao-Yu asks, while A-Lan sits at the table with one of her brother’s many, many cats purring in her lap. “Should I lay out the bowls?”

“Yes, please, A-Yu,” Wei Wuxian yawns, swaying back and forth with Chunyang on his hip as he stirs chili paste into his pot of soup. “And fetch a shawl for A-Lan, her clothes aren’t warm enough.”

“A-Niang stir more,” Chunyang tells him, pointing down at the pot. “Not done.”

Wei Wuxian does as she says, breaking up the last chunks of paste just as A-Yu comes rushing back in with a warm shawl to drape around A-Lan’s shoulders. After that, he puts a broad wooden lid over the pot and leaves it to boil, moving from cauldron to cauldron with one hand keeping Chun-bao in place and the other wielding his ladle: a weapon almost as effective as his sword, if A-Yuan’s condemnation of his cooking at the Burial Mounds is to be believed, though Wei Wuxian learned how to cook without covering everything with chili oil during his brief stint as Sect Leader Jiang ten years ago.

“I love A-Die’s food,” Shuilan declares, squeezing Heimao (named, quite literally, for his smooth black fur) in sheer delight when Wei Wuxian plops a bit of hot tofu into her mouth. “If Papa doesn’t come home in five minutes, can I eat everything?”

“A-Lan can eat as much as she wants,” Wei Wuxian promises, because A-Lan is only five years old and eats less than half of what Lan Zhan does. “Come help Yu-gege serve the rice, and then we can eat.”

Lan Zhan comes home late that night, after Lan Yu and Wei Shuilan have finished their dinners and gone to bed. He went to Lanling to help Jin Ling oversee a trial just after mao hour, and his early return is a pleasant surprise; Wei Wuxian nearly weeps with joy when his husband opens the door to the  jingshi and sweeps him and A-Chun up into his arms, carrying them to the long divan in the receiving room to kiss them to his heart’s content, and fussing over A-Chun until she toddles away and comes back again with the little bowl of hot soup that Wei Wuxian left on the table with a warming talisman.

“Papa eat,” she says adoringly, curling into a chubby pink ball against Wei Wuxian’s stomach and watching with big eyes as Lan Zhan raises the bowl to his lips. “A-Niang cooked!”

“Your A-Die always cooks dinner,” Wei Wuxian says, kissing the tip of her sweet pink nose. “Remember, Chun-bao?”

“Papa breakfast, and A-Niang dinner,” the little girl agrees, before drifting right off to sleep between her parents with one tiny fist curled around the end of Lan Zhan’s forehead ribbon.

Jiang Yanli used to fall asleep like that, Wei Wuxian remembers, safe in Jiang-shushu’s purple-draped bed with him and a toddling Jiang Cheng curled up next to her on either side, and she always stayed asleep no matter how often they squirmed and kicked and whispered over her head.

“Sweetheart?”

“I missed you,” Wei Wuxian sighs, without mentioning where his thoughts had gone—the pain of his shijie’s passing will never heal as long as he lives, but it has been easier to bear with Lan Zhan beside him, if only a little. “Will you have to go again next week, Lan Zhan?”

His husband shakes his head and gives him a lingering soup-tasting kiss on the soft dent over his mouth. “It is finished, my heart. Forgive me for coming home so late?”

Their faces draw together again, yearning towards one another like two mated butterflies forcefully parted as Lan Zhan shifts A-Chun to the crook of his arm and lays Wei Wuxian down on the divan to kiss his cheeks, and his forehead, and then caresses his hands with heart-breaking tenderness, as if he were holding a treasure beyond price. In turn, Wei Wuxian reaches up to touch his husband’s face, tracing the smooth lines of his brow and chin until Lan Zhan catches his fingertips with his lips and pulls him upright to keep Chunyang from getting squashed.

“Let’s put this little lotus to bed,” Wei Wuxian whispers, though it turns into another yawn before he gets to the end of the sentence. “Come with me, xingan?”

His husband—his beloved, precious, perfect husband—goes with him without a word, coaxing their daughter into her sleeping gown and laying her in the middle of the bed without waking her. “I heard some news in Lanling before I left,” he says, while Wei Wuxian helps him take off his Chief Cultivator’s headpiece and put away his waist-pendants. “I investigated the issue with Moling Su, since I feared that they might have a greater grudge against you than we thought, and Jin Ling informed me that the minor sects have begun to address you as xiandu of their own accord.”

Wei Wuxian feels his jaw drop. “What?”

“You have been taking over the portion of my work that cannot be solved by night-hunting,” Lan Zhan points out, as they slip under the covers and tuck A-Chun in between them to keep her warm. “The schools, the trade conferences, the farming failures in the south and the northwest. These matters are resolved by letters written in your hand, not mine, and petitions written to the Chief Cultivator are taken to court by the Chief Cultivator’s husband.”

He pauses to brush their noses together, and then:

“It has been so since you married me,” he says, with a smile that melts Wei Wuxian’s limbs into jelly. “Did you never notice, Wei Ying? It is well known that Hanguang-jun follows the jiandao, and goes wherever the chaos is, and that Xinhua-jun sees to the everyday matters that must be put right for a sect to thrive. Even the clans who would have dared speak against you know it now, and give credit and praises where they are due.”

“I can’t just  become the Chief Cultivator by sharing your work,” Wei Wuxian snorts, rolling his eyes fondly as Lan Zhan leans over to blow out the candle on the nightstand. “I’m your husband. What else would I do?”

“I have not yet heard your sister-in-law being called Jiang-zongzhu,” Lan Zhan returns, with a bright spark of mirth in his sweet voice. “Though I suspect your brother would not mind, if she was.”

“Yes, I suppose—but Lan Zhan, surely the minor sects can’t just  decide to call me Chief Cultivator? You were chosen for the position by vote.”

“They chose me for Chief Cultivator ten years ago, did they not? And now, since there is no law that two people cannot share the title, they have chosen you. Nie Huaisang will support it, since he lives in fear of me stepping down and making  him succeed me as Excellency, and so will Jin Ling. And Jiang Cheng.”

“...I’m never getting out of this, am I?”

“Do you wish to stop?” Lan Zhan inquires, with some concern. “You have done more good than I could ever have dreamed of, but if you do not want—”

“Let’s talk about it in the morning,” Wei Wuxian begs, thoroughly overwhelmed at the thought of it. “Come hold me, er-gege.”

And Lan Zhan does, hugging him so tightly that all he knows is the sharp scent of sandalwood on his husband’s clothes and the soft-smelling lotus of Chun-bao’s hair until he falls asleep.

*    *    *

  Nanhai Cheng, Baling Ouyang to the Cloud Recesses, Gusu Lan

  Senior Wei,

      When did you become the Chief Cultivator? Jingyi and A-Yuan want to know, but they can’t write at the moment because A-Qing put them on diaper duty. Is it true? Or was A-Ling just making fun of us?

      Best wishes,  

            Ouyang Zizhen.  

    P.S.—make sure to bring Lan-xiansheng for A-Chen’s full month party! You haven’t forgotten about it, have you?

*    *    *

  The Cloud Recesses, Gusu Lan to the Unclean Realm, Qinghe Nie

  Nie-xiong,  

      If I ever find out that this Excellency business was your fault, I’ll steal all your grandchildren and hide them in the jingshi. What in Heaven’s name were you thinking?

    Suspiciously yours,  

            Wei Wuxian.  

*    *    *

  The Unclean Realm, Qinghe Nie to the Cloud Recesses, Gusu Lan

  Brother Wei,  

      My, such accusations! I really can’t say. But have fun with all the paperwork, Wei-xiong—it’s the best part of the job!

      Your (best) friend,  

            Nie Huaisang.  

[xiyao-feels]

@clearancecreedwatersurvival

This was the section that stood out to me-LXC asks him to wait: he wants to look at the corpse first, and he's described as having an "'ashen" complexion. In context, though, both of these things seem to me to be about the likely identity of NMJ's killer, rather than NMJ himself; when LXC says he want to look at the corpse, WWX asks him if he recognizes the corpse, but it's not LXC who replies: "Before Lan XIChen could reply, Lan WangJi already nodded slowly."

I don't agree with the supposition that xichen is ashen and shocked because he's focusing on the identity of nmj's killer, I think this is very clearly grief and shock in response to seeing the headless corpse of his friend. Mind you absolutely agree that there is far far more textual evidence supporting xiyao as a romantic pairing and don't Nielan, but I do think they were friends, and that this is a moment entirely about grieving his dead friend upon being confronted with his body.

Oh, yes, that part!! It's definitely one of the weaker parts of my post, I think, because it's definitely counterintuitive and I don't argue for it much. Originally I had a longer section, but since I was quoting pretty much the whole rest of the chapter for it, I ended up cutting it. Thank you for the excuse to dig into it!

To be clear, I don't think it's impossible that LXC's reaction is about his grief for NMJ!! But I hope I can show why I think that "it's about JGY" is a reading grounded in the text. Broadly, it seems to me that if his expression is about NMJ, then we'd see a lot more of him reacting to NMJ (as a person/his friend/his sworn brother) than we do, even though there are definitely places it would have made sense for him to react that way. On the other hand, he very much does react (and consistently!) to the idea/implication of JGY as the killer. And in terms of psychological plausibility, I do think it's worth noting that NMJ has been dead for more than a decade by this point—he really has had time to grieve.

I, uh, did end up pulling basically the rest of the chapter to take a look at it, here we go:

Only three people were left by the pile of corpse parts. Wei WuXian nodded at Lan XiChen in respect. He squatted down and began to seal the parts inside the Qiankun Pouches again. Just as he was in the middle of stuffing the left hand into a pouch, Lan XiChen spoke up, “Please wait a moment.”

Back then, when Wei WuXian had seen Lan XiChen’s expression, he knew that something was wrong. Sure enough, Lan XiChen’s complexion was ashen as he repeated his words, ��Please… wait a moment. Let me see the corpse.”

Wei WuXian stopped, “ZeWu-Jun, do you know who this person is?”

Before Lan XiChen could reply, Lan WangJi already nodded slowly.

Wei WuXian, “Well, then I also know who he is.”

He lowered his voice, “He’s ChiFeng-Zun, right?”

[multiple paragraphs about how WWX recognized him, and as an aside a) how LXC and LWJ recognized him and b) that it's understandable NHS failed to recognize the leg]*

Wei WuXian, “ZeWu-Jun, HanGuang-Jun told you about what we saw during the journey, right? Mo Village, the grave digger, Yi City and all that.”

Lan XiChen nodded. Wei WuXian continued, “Then HanGuang-Jun probably told you this already. The mist-faced man who tried to take the corpse away in the Chang Clan’s cemetery knew the Lan Sect’s sword moves like the back of his hand. There can only be two possibilities. One, he’s from the Lan Sect and has been practicing the Lan Sect’s moves since a young age; two, he’s not from the Lan Sect, but he’s really familiar with your sect’s moves. He either often dueled with the Lan Sect’s people or he’s so intelligent that he can remember the moves as long as he has seen them.”

Lan XiChen remained silent. Wei WuXian added, “He fought for the corpse because he didn’t want others to realize that ChiFeng-Zun had been cut up. If ChiFeng-Zun’s corpse is pieced back together, the situation would be really difficult for him. This is someone who knows of the secrets behind the Nie Sect’s Saber Hall. Someone who’s quite close with the GusuLan Sect. Someone who has a rather complicated history… with ChiFeng-Zun.”

Without having to say who this person most likely was, everyone had understood.

Although Lan XiChen’s expression was solemn, he still replied quickly, “He will not have done such a thing.”

Wei WuXian, “ZeWu-Jun?”

Lan XiChen, “Your incidents of investigating the corpse parts and encountering the gravedigger all happened within the present month. During this month, he has been discussing matters with me every single night. We were planning the Discussion Conference occurring next month at the LanlingJin Sect just a few days ago. He could not have been to anywhere else. The gravedigger could not have been him.”

Wei WuXian, “What if he used a transportation talisman?”

Lan XiChen shook his head. His tone was gentle yet resolute, “One must cultivate the transportation technique in order to use the transportation talisman. It is rather difficult to cultivate. He has never shown signs of cultivating it. Likewise, one must expend large quantities of spiritual powers to use this technique, but we night-hunted together just a few days ago. His performance was excellent. I am certain that he has never used the transportation talisman.”

Lan WangJi, “He did not have to go himself.”

Lan XiChen still shook his head. Wei WuXian continued, “Sect Leader Lan, you know who is the most suspicious person. You’re just refusing to admit it.”

The light of the bonfire casted everchanging shadows over the three faces. All was still in the abandoned garden.

After a while of silence, Lan XiChen replied, “I understand that because of certain reasons, the world holds quite a few misconceptions about him. But… I trust what I have seen throughout all these years. I trust that he is not this sort of person.”

It wasn’t difficult to understand why Lan XiChen defended this person. To be honest, even Wei WuXian himself didn’t have a terrible opinion of the person they were suspicious of. Perhaps because of his background, he had always treated others with kindness and humility. He was the type of person who never offended anyone, the type who could make everyone around him feel comfortable talking to him, let alone ZeWu-Jun, who had been friends with him for years?

The time before Nie MingJue’s death was precisely the peak of the QingheNie Sect’s advances toward the LanlingJin Sect. Who would’ve Nie MingJue’s death benefited the most?

Death by a qi deviation under the public’s eyes… It looked like such a reasonable, unavoidable regret, but was the truth really so simple?

*I've put the paragraphs at the end of the post, so you can confirm they're nothing but what I mentioned, or of course you could consider the whole thing in context at the Exiled Rebels chapter here

So: LXC has an ashen complexion, and he asks to see NMJ's corpse. (It's not central but I do think it's worth noting that he specifically asks to see "the corpse," rather than, say, "him" or "the man"—to me this reads as rather distancing? Which to be clear is definitely not incompatible with his expression being about NMJ! But it seems worth noting.)

When WWX asks LXC if he knows who the corpse is, "Before Lan XiChen could reply, Lan WangJi already nodded slowly." The fact that LWJ is nodding "slowly," and that nodding doesn't really constitute an interruption, suggest to me that LXC was in fact hesitating in his reply. As above, this is definitely not inconsistent with grief! But I don't think that's the only or even (in light of the rest of the scene) the strongest reading, and it also very much makes sense in context of being reluctant to deal with the identity of the killer (especially given WWX's quick inference of the killer's likely identity once NMJ's identity is confirmed).

When WWX finally speaks to identify the corpse ("He’s ChiFeng-Zun, right?"), we're not given any reaction from LXC. To me it seems that if the distancing above were about his grief for NMJ, rather than the implications of it being about NMJ, I feel like you'd kind of expect a reaction here? Like, now, there's no denying it. But we're not given one. Likewise, we're not given any particular reaction from him when WWX talks about how NMJ's body was treated. "He fought for the corpse because he didn’t want others to realize that ChiFeng-Zun had been cut up," says WWX. "If ChiFeng-Zun’s corpse is pieced back together, the situation would be really difficult for him." However LXC reacted, the text just doesn't note it.

On the other hand, we're consistently given his reaction to implications about JGY. When WWX first starts implying it's JGY, "Lan XiChen remained silent." When the implication becomes unmistakable, "Although Lan XiChen’s expression was solemn, he still replied quickly"—in JGY's defense, as he continues to do throughout the scene.

Imho his strongest reaction comes after WWX tells him “Sect Leader Lan, you know who is the most suspicious person. You’re just refusing to admit it.” LXC is silent for a while, and then replies:

“I understand that because of certain reasons, the world holds quite a few misconceptions about him. But… I trust what I have seen throughout all these years. I trust that he is not this sort of person.”

Again—as we see in chapter 64—it's really about knowing, or not knowing, JGY. It seems to me that you could definitely have something more here; "he's not the sort of person to do this to his sworn brother," say, or "he wouldn't have done this to NMJ." But NMJ isn't the focus! Here and later, it's JGY, and his knowledge of JGY, that is the important thing to LXC.

And then we have a few more paragraphs, which I've included mostly to show that there's nothing more, and the chapter ends. (Though I think it's also worth noting that he doesn't ask to see the body again, which also (taken in context with the rest of the scene) suggests to me that the initial asking wasn't about his grief for NMJ.)

So taken all together, although it's certainly possible that his expression/reaction is about his grief for NMJ, I really do think that the idea that it's about JGY is supported by the text.

(Also a side note—in terms of how LXC recognized NMJ/his emotions about this whole thing, it might be worth noting that the last time he saw NMJ making those motions was also the last time he saw NMJ alive, and that was specifically after NMJ kicked open the door of the room he and JGY were talking in and tried to murder JGY on the spot, so that might also have an impact.)

Redacted paragraphs:

When they were “playing hide-and-seek”, the headless corpse kept on repeating the same movement—with a loosely-closed fist, he waved his arm and slashed the air. It looked as though he was brandishing a type of weapon.

At the first idea of a weapon, Wei WuXian thought of a sword. But as someone who used the sword himself and had dueled other swordsmen, he had never seen any sword expert use their sword in such a way. The sword was the “gentleman of all weapons”. Anyone who used the sword would pay attention to an air of grace or dignity. Even the sword of an assassin would need to have some agility amid the cruelty. In the art of swordplay, there were more of “lunge” and “stab”, and less of “hack” and “slice”. However, the headless man’s movements were too heavy. There was an abundance in malice and the slashes of the arm lacked elegance.

But, if he wasn’t holding a sword, but a saber—and a hefty saber with a strong killing intent—then everything would make sense.

The sword and the saber were different in both usage and temperament. The weapon that the man had used before he died was probably a saber. As fierce as the saber was, it valued power instead of style. When he was searching for his head, he was searching for his weapon as well. This was why he kept on repeating the moves of wielding a saber and even grabbed Bichen, using it as though it were his weapon.

Moreover, this corpse didn’t have any special markings such as a birthmark. And now after he had been cut into pieces, it was impossible find out who he was. It was only natural that Nie HuaiSang couldn’t recognize it in the Saber Hall. In fact, even Wei WuXian couldn’t guarantee that if he cut off his own leg and threw it everywhere, he’d be able to recognize whose leg it was. It wasn’t until the torso and the limbs were temporarily pieced into a corpse capable of movement by the resentful energy that Lan XiChen and Lan WangJi finally recognized him.

All quotes taken from the Exiled Rebels translation

[grapefruitsketches]

Missing Pieces

For fytheuntamed’s Untamed Fall Fest Day 25: Ghost

Rated T, 1,123 Words. Lan Xichen-centric, post-canon, angst, Lan Xichen deserves a good therapist and Wei Wuxian tries to be a good brother-in-law

Also available on AO3

Lan Xichen cut down the resentful spirit in front of him. Shuoye stabbing through it cleanly, easily.

He stared blankly as it fell.

Without lowering his sword, he approached the place where it had dissipated around Shuoye, hand shaking ever so slightly.

A ghost. Something that had once been a living human. What must it be like to be such a thing? Did it remember? Or was anger, resentment, all it knew?

Presumably the ghost, whoever it had once been, had once cared about something other than the violence and mayhem it had been wreaking until Lan Xichen had ended its spree. How much did the ghost still feel like that former person? Did it remember its life as its own, or only just enough of an imprint to answer to Inquiry – imitate, but not understand?

“Xiongzhang?”

Lan Xichen hastily sheathed Shuoye, turning with a smile towards the sound of the voice as Wangji stepped into the clearing.

His brother blinked, gaze traveling from the singed grasses behind Lan Xichen up to the older Lan’s gentle expression.

“That was the last one?” Wangji asked.

Lan Xichen nodded, “Yes, I think so.” He winced internally at his own breathlessness.

“Any trouble?” Wangji’s expression only seemed to grow graver as Xichen worked to lighten his.

Xichen shook his head, “No trouble at all.”

Wangji’s eyes narrowed, looking at him skeptically before the two turned to walk back towards the main paths. Xichen knew he hadn’t come close to convincing his brother, but Wangji didn’t press him further.

Still…

--

“Wei-gongzi, could I trouble you for a moment?”

Wei Wuxian blinked up in surprise, having resigned himself, the moment Zewu-jun had come in, to losing his husband to him for the remainder of the afternoon.

“Sure!” He recovered quickly, looking questioningly back to Lan Zhan. The other man only offered the briefest of glances up to his brother and his husband before returning to whatever query he was responding to. A blank look, but one that clearly communicated to both other men in the library that Lan Wangji had neither expected this request from his brother, nor would he try to stop his husband from responding.

Curious but a bit nervous, Wei Wuxian followed Lan Xichen out of the room, tapping Chenqing mindlessly on his wrist, “So, uh, Zewu-jun, you wanted to speak to me?” Wei Wuxian’s voice was hesitant, but didn’t reveal how his stomach turned itself over. He and Zewu-jun had always been friendly – allies, even, on occasion, when it came to Lan Zhan – but they’d never been close. Never really been alone, just the two of them, on purpose unless there was some other emergency afoot. Wei Wuxian wondered if there might be something he missed… something to do with Lan Zhan… or some wrong he’d committed that the sect leader hadn’t been able to ignore…?

“Wei-gongzi,” Zewu-jun sighed deeply, closing his eyes before pressing on, “Would I be able to… to ask you some questions about resentful energy?”

Resentful energy? Whatever he had expected, it had not been this. Wei Wuxian blinked and looked back at the man. He was met with kind eyes, a soft smile. Lan Xichen looked just as he always had to Wei Wuxian. But this question… Wei Wuxian frowned.

“Zewu-jun,” he replied, crossing his arms, “I could tell you a lot about resentful energy, but you’ll forgive me if I ask what reason you have for asking?”

Lan Xichen blinked as though he had not realized until now how his question might come across to the man once hunted down then torn apart by such pursuits, “It’s purely academic, Wei-gongzi, don’t–“

“That’s what I said once,” Wei Wuxian said, cutting him off, “And I’m sure that many… others started with simple curiosity too.”

“I apologize. I am not phrasing my question correctly. That is not what I meant,” Zewu-jun shook his head, seeming faintly horrified, “I have no desire to expand my knowledge of the application of your expertise beyond the use of the spiritual lures and other tools you have created to compliment sword cultivation,” he explained, “I only… I only wondered…” Lan Xichen trailed off, not entirely sure how to put his request into words, “I wondered if you could tell me more about resentment itself?”

Wei Wuxian blinked. Zewu-jun’s brow folded inward, his expression pleading, desperate almost.

And suddenly it clicked.

Zewu-jun, as bound to his moral code as Wei Wuxian’s own husband was to his own. Whose ties to his code had left him, not with justice or redemption or with his beloved by his side, but alone, betrayed, confused. This was a man who had tried, to the very end, to do what was right, even if that meant questioning the path he had followed for the last two decades at least.

Wei Wuxian had never really understood Zewu-jun. Respected him, but didn’t understand him. Didn’t understand his prioritization of calm, of offering second, third, fourth chances at keeping his trust. His willingness to forgive, no matter the charges. Wei Wuxian himself had benefitted from those attitudes, as evidenced by the man’s tacit acceptance of the Yiling Patriarch as his brother-in-law, but a part of him couldn’t imagine doing the same if the roles were reversed.

So, Wei Wuxian realized, Zewu-jun wasn’t asking about demonic cultivation. Zewu-jun did not have the vengeful motivations that often drove people to such questions. As Wei Wuxian looked at those sad eyes, coupled with the smile that so rarely left his face, he knew. Zewu-jun was, truly, only asking to learn about resentment. He was trying to understand what drove people to such lengths. What made a spirit unable to move on even after their life had ended. He wanted to forgive – himself, his brothers – needing to know that the world was still one of moral greys. Needing to soothe himself with the notion that there still was no such thing as absolute good or absolute evil. That everyone, no matter what they had done, might have a reason, might be sympathized with. That it is actions, not people, that cannot be redeemed.

Because the only real absolute that Lan Xichen clung to was that there were none.

Wei Wuxian looked into the beseeching eyes and sighed. He attached Chenqing at his waist and reached out for the man, taking him  by the shoulders. Gentle. Familial. For the first time, he felt for his brother-in-law something similar to how he felt for his own brother and sister all those years ago, during the quieter moments at Lotus Pier.

He spoke with a soft tone, hoping to channel something of his sister into his voice. Comforting, Without judgment.

“Do you want to talk about Chifeng-zun or Lianfeng-zun first?”

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 21 - ao3 -

When he woke, Lan Qiren expected to find everyone talking about what had happened.

He might have even preferred that, despite the cost it would undoubtedly do to his personal reputation; instead, he found that the entire incident had been largely covered up, with even Lan Yueheng uncertain as to what had caused Lan Qiren’s injury other than that it involved some sort of dispute with his brother. That a mangled version of the story had not spread was as sure a sign as anything that He Kexin, whatever her faults or reckless willingness to act on assumptions with little base in reality, had in fact explained what had really happened, and that his brother had decided that he wouldn’t permit her reputation to be tainted by her actions.

Anyone might have expected the honorable Qingheng-jun to have apologized to Lan Qiren at that point for his own reckless assumptions, but his brother had not. On the contrary, he had left orders for Lan Qiren to be punished for breaching the rules of hospitality in striking an honored guest, and for violating several other rules not publicly specified. 

Lan Qiren could imagine which ones his brother had in mind.

“But I didn’t do anything wrong,” Lan Qiren said to his teachers, blankly staring down at the punishment order, written in his brother’s hand. He hadn’t even been given the courtesy of being told about it to his face, as anyone might have expected, nor allowed the opportunity to defend or justify himself; he had been summarily sentenced in a note. “I really didn’t.”

His music teacher and his swordsmanship teacher both looked uncomfortable and awkward, each one clearly aware of the breach of protocol taking place – and, given their position as sect elders and honored teachers, very likely the actual facts of what had occurred. They knew that the only thing he was being punished over was for having the misfortune of being selected as the tool for He Kexin’s scheme, and his brother’s order – vastly excessive for a breach of the sort listed as the reason, given the usual standard of punishments – was due only to his own embarrassment and chagrin, and maybe his jealousy that Lan Qiren had unwillingly gotten even a little of the attention he so greatly desired and could not have. And yet, despite that…

“He is your sect leader,” one of them, the latter, said, and if his voice was a little regretful, it was also cold and passionless. “He has issued punishment. Are you defying his order?”

Lan Qiren’s hands were like fists on his knees. “Where is my brother?” he asked. He didn’t think an appeal would be a good idea, even if he were technically entitled to it – it’d be futile, unless his brother abruptly realized how foolish he was being – but he would be fine with it if only the answer wasn’t…

“With Rogue Cultivator He. She has agreed to give him another chance.”

Lan Qiren bit his lip and looked down. He did not like He Kexin, and not only because she had so grossly transgressed against him in an obvious attempt to convince his brother not to like her any longer – an attempt that, given the extent of his brother’s love-madness, probably wouldn’t have worked even if Lan Qiren hadn’t been utterly repulsed by the idea of bedding his brother’s prospective bride – and the idea of her giving his brother another chance at this point, even after having done so much to try to make him go away…

Perhaps she liked men that fought over her, he thought bitterly. Or perhaps it was only that she appreciated how much of his love she had for him to treat his younger brother as nothing on her behalf - though if that was what she was thinking, she was sorely mistaken. 

“Something will need to be done about my brother’s behavior,” he said, looking up at them desperately. “You must know that this is not sustainable, honored teachers.”

“That is not your concern,” his swordsmanship teacher said, while his music teacher merely looked sad and helpless, as if what was happening was a force of nature that could not be quelled or diverted, and not merely a single man’s inappropriate behavior. “Will you accept the punishment? Or do you intend to defy the sect leader’s order?”

Lan Qiren shook his head mutely, and went to the discipline hall.

Afterwards, Lan Yueheng scurried in after him, shoving a healing pill into Lan Qiren’s mouth and holding his mouth shut until he swallowed it. “You should go,” he said, glancing around anxiously. “You don’t want to be here any longer than you have to.”

“You assume I don’t have to,” Lan Qiren said, still shaking from the pain. He’d never gotten that many strikes all at once, not in his life; he could barely stand unaided, and leaned on Lan Yueheng gratefully. “I’m supposed to kneel and meditate on my actions for three days –”

“You can do that somewhere else!”

Lan Qiren shook his head.

But for once Lan Yueheng was right and he was wrong. On the first two days of his punishment, he saw his brother pass by the discipline hall in an excellent mood, his ‘second chance’ with He Kexin going better than he had hoped – according to the gossip Lan Qiren overheard, apparently she did like it when handsome men fought for her and believed in her, and moreover apparently one of her friends had intervened on his behalf – but on the third day, just as he was about to complete his penance for crimes he had not committed, his brother returned suddenly in a fury over some setback. In a bout of bad luck and bad timing, he saw Lan Qiren just as he was making his way out of the hall, and in a fit of temper he had extended his order from one set of strikes to two, even though such a retrospective revision of punishment was contrary to both the letter and spirit of the rules.

He was the sect leader, though. According to the rules Lan Yi had set down so many years ago, as sect leader, he was entitled to vary the rules if he felt the need to do so.

This time, when the punishment was done, Lan Qiren hauled himself out of there, using the wall and sheer willpower to force his shaking legs to carry him, and stiffly announced to the teacher supervising punishments that he planned to meditate in penance in the Cold Spring instead of the discipline hall.

It was technically against the stricter interpretations of discipline, since he’d been punished to kneel, not meditate, but the Cold Spring was known to have recuperative and pain-easing properties as well as acting as an aid to cultivation; his teachers, which had overseen his punishment for the second time with tightly pressed lips signifying disapproval that meant nothing if they were unwilling to take any action to stop it, did not dispute him, and with a nod his freedom was assured.

Lan Qiren had a brief moment of disquiet when he got there and realized that he would have to strip off his clothing in order to bathe – he’d only had enough time to wash himself since the incident with He Kexin, and a quick scrub in the cold air did not leave time to worry about who might try to find him while he lacked a protective layer of clothing – but with a deep breath he reminded himself that he, unlike his brother, would not allow his life to be governed by He Kexin’s whims. Anyway, it would be unhealthy to wade in with all his clothing on; the wet cloth would serve only to make him feel colder and get less benefit out of the water’s healing properties. Even if his golden core was strong enough to resist most of the negative effects of catching cold, there was no need to tempt fate.

He put his clothing somewhere he could easily see it, tucking his access token into the clothing in such a way that summoning the token would drag along the robe as well, and then unsteadily entered the water, wincing at the bracing chill as he sank down until he was neck-deep in the water, settling himself in the proper position to meditate. Or, well, to sit blankly and wait for there to be a little less pain: even putting aside the severity, it was also the first time he’d ever been subject to back-to-back punishments in such a reckless fashion. Lack of treatment after a punishment was fairly standard if the sentence also included kneeling – technically, Lan Yueheng shouldn’t have given him a pill to encourage healing, and Lan Qiren shouldn’t have accepted it, although doing so was not a major breach. Moreover, given that the teachers had ignored it rather than adding on any additional punishment, it might even be seen as having been subtly countenanced.

Lan Qiren rather wished he had one now.

Or Lan Yueheng, for that matter. Or even Cangse Sanren, far away in Yunmeng, or Lao Nie, or someone, anyone, who would be friendly and take his side, even –

“Lan Qiren?”

Lan Qiren blinked, surprised to note that the angle of the light had changed considerably; he must have fallen asleep or otherwise drifted off. Or perhaps he was still asleep, because why else would he be hearing Wen Ruohan’s slow drawling tone saying his name in the middle of the Cloud Recesses?

“Ah, little Lan,” the man himself said, gliding out of the mist that surrounded the Cold Spring like a wraith. “There you are.”

Lan Qiren stared at him mutely. “You’re – here.”

It didn’t feel real. How could Wen Ruohan be here?

“I am,” Wen Ruohan said, his lips curved in his usual arrogant expression, the one that said I don’t care what you think of me. “Or am I expected to await your invitation in the future?”

“No,” Lan Qiren said, because he felt even less in control of anything to do with his sect than he had been when he’d been its second young master, even though he was now the presumptive heir. His vision of Wen Ruohan blurred and briefly doubled; he blinked to clear it. “I’m glad you’re here.”

He hadn’t meant to say that. Even if it was true.

Wen Ruohan’s eyes briefly widened, and then he smirked, looking delighted by the admission. “So you missed me after all,” he said, his voice low and intimate; one might almost call it a purr. “Ah, my stubborn little brother…”

Lan Qiren briefly closed his eyes. Had his brother ever referred to him directly like that? He couldn’t remember if he had.

He wished that it had been some single moment in time, some rash act, that had driven his blood brother, born of the same father and mother, so far away from him. He even wished that it was something that he had done so that it could be something he might fix, might repair with apologies and penance, but he knew that it wasn’t.

When he opened his eyes again, he found that Wen Ruohan had come closer, prowling along the edge of the Cold Spring with his red eyes fixed on Lan Qiren. His pace, as always, was slow and steady – it felt inexorable, unstoppable, and Lan Qiren did nothing to stop him, watching blankly as he came forward, crouching down right beside the place where Lan Qiren was sitting beneath the water.

“Little Lan,” Wen Ruohan purred. “My little Lan…”

He reached out, his long-nailed fingers tracing down along Lan Qiren’s cheek, as light as snowflakes, and down to his chin, catching it in a strong grip and turning his face to look up at Wen Ruohan.  His thumb brushed against Lan Qiren’s lips.

Lan Qiren swallowed. It had been, he thought, too long since he had felt the touch of someone who wished him well, or indeed anyone at all; he had missed it more than he had realized.

Wen Ruohan noticed, and his smirk widened.

“I heard a rumor that you had been caught in attempted adultery,” he remarked. “I didn’t believe it, of course, and no one else did, either – but I had to come see for myself.”

“I didn’t,” Lan Qiren croaked. His voice felt strangled and inexplicably hoarse, and he found himself absently calculating distances in the back of his mind: Wen Ruohan must have left the Nightless City for the Cloud Recesses the very moment he received the report from his spies on what had happened in order to be here now. “I really – didn’t.”

“I believe you,” Wen Ruohan said, sounding cool and amused. “It didn’t really seem like something that my little Lan would do. My little Lan, who missed me so…”

Lan Qiren tried to turn his head away, not wanting to see the smug satisfaction in Wen Ruohan’s voice and face and manner – Wen Ruohan hadn’t won, he thought stubbornly to himself. Lan Qiren hadn’t given up on his conviction that such torture was wrong or that Wen Ruohan was wrong in engaging in it. It was only that Lan Qiren was tired and in pain, and willing to accept comfort from just about anyone.

Wen Ruohan wouldn’t let him turn away, though, and overpowered his weak movement easily.

“Don’t fret,” he said coaxingly. “I missed you, too.”

That sounded nice.

“I must admit, I tried not to. I thought to myself that if you were so foolish as to turn away from me, the consequences should be on your own head, nothing to do with me. But despite my best efforts, you were never far from my thoughts…”

Wen Ruohan’s hand released Lan Qiren’s  chin and drifted down to his throat, lightly pressing his nails against his skin as if examining how the color changed when he did. He moved closer, too close for Lan Qiren to see him clearly given the mist and the angle; his second hand fell upon Lan Qiren’s shoulder, while his first continued to drift down, skating along his collarbone, drifting over to his side –

His touch slid across one of the stray bruises left over from his punishment.

Lan Qiren flinched.

That was a bad idea, of course. The involuntary reflex moved his body too quickly, straining all his other cuts and bruises, and the spike of pain from that made him gasp and instinctively curl up. His vision briefly whited out, and he struggled to control his breathing, keeping it slow and shallow to let the pain pass over him.

After a moment that felt overly long, his vision cleared. When it did, he became aware that Wen Ruohan’s fingers were pressed to his brow in the place between his eyes, transferring warm qi to him in such a torrent that it almost hurt; Lan Qiren lifted up a hand to stop him.

Wen Ruohan was faster than him, though, and he pulled away his hand and caught Lan Qiren’s, pulling it up to examine the bruising that was already appearing on the back of his arm – stray marks, in the main part, since the majority were on his back, between his neck and thighs. “What happened?” he asked, voice sharp. “How did you get these wounds?”

Lan Qiren looked at him in bewilderment: was this not the same man he had seen twist human beings into shapes their bodies could not bear, burn them with fire and slice them into bits? Why would he care so much over a few bruises and cuts, the marks left behind by unyielding wood when it struck flesh, instruments of discipline used a thousand times over in every single sect? 

“You know already,” he said, unable to keep the slight tone of plaintive accusation out of his voice. “You said you believed me…”

Wen Ruohan stared at him, expression strangely blank, and then in a single gesture he pulled Lan Qiren up to a standing position, waist-deep in the water and choking on the pain of it, back bent forward like a bow, the worst of the marks now visible to Wen Ruohan’s burning gaze.

“What is this?” he demanded.

It wasn’t really a question that needed answering, and he wasn’t really asking, not anymore, but Lan Qiren responded regardless: “Punishment.”

Wen Ruohan’s hand was tight on his wrist.

“For what?” he snarled, and he sounded furious. Lan Qiren didn’t know if he’d ever heard Wen Ruohan sound this angry - he didn’t know if anyone alive had heard him be this angry, and if they had whether they’d survived the experience. “It is impossible that you actually bedded your brother’s lover. So what possible reason could they have for punishing you?”

“He’s my sect leader,” Lan Qiren said groggily. His head was starting to hurt; he had exited the cold water too quickly. “Does he need a reason?”

The hand on his wrist tightened still further. Lan Qiren would probably have bruises there in the morning as well, equally undeserved - but he minded these far less. 

At least Wen Ruohan was angry on his behalf.

“Qingheng-jun is daring indeed,” Wen Ruohan said, his voice as smooth as silk and as dark as a moonless night. “To think he can act with impunity to anyone he wishes, even going so far as to harm one with whom I share an oath –”

“…do you?”

Wen Ruohan stopped. “Share an oath with you?”

“No,” Lan Qiren said. His head lolled a little, and he found that somewhere along the line he had been drawn into Wen Ruohan’s arms, making it easy to rest his head on the other man’s shoulder. Wen Ruohan was overly warm, as always; his sect always preferred cultivation techniques involving yang energy and fire – it wasn’t a surprise, not really, but it was unexpected how pleasant it was. “Need a reason.” He shook his head a little. “You hurt people, too.”

“You are not just any person,” Wen Ruohan said. “You’re my little brother.”

“I’m his little brother, too.”

He felt Wen Ruohan’s hand, blazingly hot against his water-chilled body, come to rest on his hair.

“You were born with poor luck in brothers, little Lan,” he said, his breath warm against Lan Qiren’s ear. It was as if all the heat in the world was contained in his body, and Lan Qiren capable only of leeching off of it. “Not just him, but me as well; we each fail you in turn. I will not apologize for having bound you to me, for I do not regret it – but I will endeavor to make it up to you.”

Surrounded by all that warmth, Lan Qiren drifted off to sleep.

[bbhyeoliskooks]

・●○ 𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟒, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎 ○●・

According to Yeonjun, the two of you can only stay as friends with benefits. 

―●○◎◎○●――●○◎◎○●―

Pairing: Yeonjun x Reader (gender-neutral)

Genre: 3 cups of angst and two sprinkles of fluff !

Warnings: A bit of cursing, a BIT sexual (hickies and all?), passing out

Song: Stay

(Ooh, this one was fun and interesting to write !! Although, it kinda hurt a little bit, if I do say so for myself. Also, should I write Soobin’s pov? I think it would be quite interesting as I have just gained a few ideas.)

―●○◎◎○●――●○◎◎○●―

“Good morning, gorgeous~”

You were met to a comforting sight in the early dawn of Yeonjun delicately cupping your cheek. Once he noticed that you were awake, he sweetly placed a blissful kiss against your forehead while you relished in the feeling of your love seemingly being returned. You wanted to live in this moment forever, here in his arms just because this was the only way you would know his love was there. 

He, himself was irreplaceable... no other person made you feel like this in the last 10 years since meeting him. 

Like a pair, he was the flame while you were the candle. He was the Christmas mug, and you were the scorching hot chocolate. He was the heavy bricks while you were the strong rooftop. There were so many things that you could compare but in all of those examples, you needed him- easily more than he needed you. 

The other thing that you could complain about though, or in this relationship with him was the label.

Friends with benefits.

It was extremely cliche that you wanted to choke from how spot on it was. One had feelings for the other while one didn't, inevitably breaking their heart or admitting that they had the same problem. The only thing about it was that you were sure that he didn't... well, love you back.

It seemed that shutting your mouth was the best option in this mess. 

Effortlessly you could say to anyone who wondered that he was just your best friend. However there were so many things to keep in the dark. If you could name a few it would be hiding your tears whenever he left those passionate marks on your neck, letting his name roll out endlessly whenever he hit the right spot,��and even telling you that he loves you while you incoherently mumbled in ecstasy that you felt the same way too...

He said that he loved you, that’s all you’ve wanted all this time! He loves you, so... why are you extremely greedy to reach for so much more?

The reason was simple.

It just... isn’t like that.

Sure he gifted you feelings that no other boy could give you, but this was only in a beneficial way.

He wanted sex, you wanted love.

There was a clear difference on so many levels that left your mental state shattered, not to mention the love you had built up for him. 

Every single week this happened, you had to take it, or else you reckoned that your friendship with Yeonjun would be irreparably destroyed.

Confusion drew over you each time when he acted like he was in love with you. That was the one time where the two of you were alone... and the first time he took you to heaven.

Perhaps you went wrong with hiding one day, being much too obvious in front of him. You figured out that he found out that you loved him and slowly took advantage of it, telling you things you wanted to hear whenever he wanted something. 

Maybe it was the way his eyes lit up whenever he saw you, which you simply thought he um- liked you, but it seemed that it obviously wasn’t the case. 

You shook off all of those negative thoughts, trying to focus on the good things that were coming at the moment. 

“Hey, can I ask you a question? It isn’t that bad, if you’re worried.”

Yeonjun let out a low hum in his chest to show that he was listening. He drew little yet gentle circles on your shoulder that had you swooning from inside. You closed your eyes to forbid yourself from melting into his touch, knowing that your thought process would be cut off if you sunk further down. 

You breathed in deeply. “W-will you eat breakfast with me today? I mean, I just figured that-” the sound of the fumbling sheets snapped you out of your little daze and you shot up, panic setting in your nerves again.

No, no! He can’t leave! Everything was so perfect!

He arose from his spot on the warm bed, unintentionally- or purposefully extracting out your heart in his warm hands. You jumped out as well, immediately interlocking your hands with his. 

“Wait, Yeonjun! You’re not going to stay?” 

Oh, wow...

I guess that hit a sensitive nerve. You watched as he stopped dead in his tracks right next to the door frame. It seemed that he did not want to face the courage to look at you in the eye this time.

“I told you this over and over again, Y/N. I can’t, okay? How many times do I have to repeat it for you?” His voice was disturbingly calm, causing your heart to squeeze distressingly in your chest. He isn’t being serious, no way in hell he’s being serious when he told you he loved you... that he loved you so damn much.

Tears gathered in your eyes, no strength left in your body to hide them. 

Silly you for actually thinking that he would actually stay, right? What a funny joke you so desperately wanted to laugh about.

You shuffled to turn on the other side where Yeonjun used to lay. Your fingertips grazed the hickies he had left on your neck. They stung a little bit but it didn’t amount to how much pain you were dealing with inside. What good would it do now if he kept marking you and calling you “his” if he didn’t even fucking love you?

You felt that the air in your lungs was constricted, barely managing to choke out a few, strained words.

“Y-yeah! I guess so... Goodbye, Jun.”

He didn’t say anything, only letting out a deep sigh of somewhat a relief. You realized then that you were holding onto his hand when he harshly pulled his hand away from you.

You stumbled back helplessly, desiring time- just time to say the things you needed to relinquish. His name kept tumbling out of your mouth, slowly gaining volume but still with all your might, he couldn't hear you. Couldn’t hear the desperation coated from your broken heart below, or how much you needed him to be with you.

Perhaps, he chose not to after you subtly asked him to stay with you, wrapped in your arms where the two of you could foolishly giggle in your bed all day. 

The words of your sore throat came undone, and you couldn’t stop yourself from saying the words which would haunt him forever.

“You said that you loved me last night, so why the fuck am I not good enough?!”

The door to your room slammed shut and you sunk into the burning covers once more, your tears trickling like waterfalls against your swollen cheeks. Your lips were sore from earlier, but you didn’t want to apply any ointment on it right now in fear that you would trip on your own two feet. The information was irrelevant, but he went rough on you for purposefully flirting with Soobin to make him jealous.

It seemed that there wasn’t any light or hope in your body that pined for his touch now, the one that reassured you that he would have the ability to love you like that. It would never happen, you needed to keep telling yourself. Sooner or later, you weren’t going to feel anything for him anymore. You just needed time.

This vessel of pleasure for Yeonjun was the only thing you had, you even knew without him telling you directly. Hell, you didn’t even think that he thought of you as his best friend anymore.

The anger and frustration were barely restrained in your chest, endless reverberating sobs filling the silent house for the first time.

Stupid you for thinking that his body would be enough to fill the empty void he made. Stupid you for kissing his tears away, only to be left alone when he chose not to do the same. Stupid you for always loving... him.

It was excruciating, especially because it was your fault for saying yes. He was  going to be eternally precious to you whether you liked it or not, but you knew that what you had wasn’t enough to make him stay. And yet, it it was just your body, then at least you had one thing to give up, draining you until you couldn’t keep going anymore.

Dark scribbles of pent up hate for yourself clouded your head, and the blinding light rushed towards you, black dots taking over your vision. 

You passed out on the floor, and nobody knew until Soobin checked up on you minutes later that day. 

Little did you know, Yeonjun listened to your desperate cries on the other side, his heart shattering from how much of a coward he was not to tell his best friend that he couldn't love you back no matter how much he tried. 

10 years of friendship and September 24, 2020 was the day your friendship crumbled apart. 

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@unlocktxt , yes i tagged you 😚✌🏽 im proud of this one ~~

@petalskook , i tagged you too 😳 you’ve just been so sweet to me these days, so ive figured why not !?

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Posted: 9/10/20- Added to Queue

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