#anything else we see directed at others is just a hint of how she must be talking to herself

[moiraineology]

Sorry I'm on the pain train today, but I really think that Moiraine blames herself for what happened to her at the Eye all throughout season 2. This is a woman who has a plan within a plan within a plan, and even though she is fully aware of how dangerous the mission is, and how she is almost certainly going to die because of it, she still had some very specific expectations for how things were going to go at the (not-so-final) battle. She brought the sa'angreal for Rand to use, and she was ready to channel and fight for him while he woke up/gathered his strength/found a way to touch the Source. The thing she never expected to happen was for Ishamael to be able to cut her off even as she threw her whole body into channeling to protect Rand. We know how powerful she is. We know that this was her final mission. A suicide mission. Her entire being was devoted to that final channel and when Ishamael shields her, the sound she makes--total disbelief, panic--betrays the fact that she never imagined that he would be able to do what he did. She thought he might kill her for sure, and that she'd go out in a blaze of glory, but this? Left behind as a Forsaken's plaything? It was never something that crossed her mind.

The first shot of her we see in season 2 is her lugging those buckets of water across this massive canyon at Tifan's Well. There are cicadas buzzing, the brush is scrubby and everything (barely) grows in sand. It's hot as balls. And she is out there bringing bucket after bucket home so she can be in this tepid bath, reliving what happened to her and wishing, wishing, wishing she hadn't channeled in that moment. I think Verin is right to point out that this could be seen as an indicator of her strength in many ways, and Moiraine herself would probably appreciate hearing that ("Moiraine didn't know the meaning of the words 'give up'"), but I personally see it as a form of self-harm. She is punishing herself every day for what she believes she "let" happen to her. We also see her lash out at Lan later on, when he tells her that even multiple Aes Sedai couldn't still a person. She completely loses it and yells at him in an attempt to communicate how powerful the Forsaken actually are. I really read that as a manifestation of her anger toward herself. For not realizing how powerful Ishamael could be. For not making the "right" choice in that moment. Again, for "letting" him do what he did to her. We know that stilling is seen as a direct parallel to a violation (an assault) and it is a really common response to relive the situation in that way and blame oneself for something that isn't even close to being the survivor's fault. It makes sense that Moiraine's trauma response would be to blame herself. It also makes it about twenty million times more heartbreaking to watch relevant scenes later on, like when she talks to Rand about what a shield feels like (she is so angry in that scene, and again, I read it not just as anger directed toward Ishamael, but a very profound, overwhelming anger toward herself), or when she seems ashamed to let Rand look at her with the One Power at Lan's request. She can't even look at Rand (or Lan, for that matter) in that moment. She casts her eyes down. She doesn't want anyone to see her in that state, and it speaks to the enormous weight of the humiliation and shame that she's been carrying all season long.

Basically, I just want someone to cradle her tightly in their arms and just tell her over and over that it wasn't her fault. That what happened to her was Ishamael's choice and his alone. That it was his cruelty, and not anything she did or didn't do, that resulted in her condition.

[cyberrose2001]

Can we pretty please have some angsty fluff?

Maybe Optimus Prime from TFP returning to Earth because he missed his s/o. (Let's pretend RID never existed. Please.) Maybe he left on a bad note and they told him that they'd never forgive him. And once he's back, she's completely ignoring him and she's trying her best to avoid him at all costs

You can choose what to do in the end. I want to see your mind wander :DD

Unforgiven Goodbyes

TFP Optimus x human! gn! reader

whoops

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of injury/blood, mental struggles, just straight-up angst.

Word count: 2,475

You're pissed off. No, you're more than pissed off. A tangle of emotions that would take a lifetime to detangle in your mind. You are pissed off, heartbroken, angry, yet excruciatingly relieved to see him.

But you can't bring yourself to face him again. That beautiful, other-worldly sculpted face seems to torment you whenever you close your eyes. That moment when he looked back at you before he plunged himself into the Well of Allsparks, the look of apologetic heroicness. It burned into your brain and left a nasty scab that you can't help but pick at. But the scar has healed. You've disciplined yourself to stop scratching it, but watching him walk through the hangar doors ripped it open once again.

You've distracted yourself as much as you can. Doing pointless chores around the new base the bots have made themselves at home with, going for long walks outside by yourself, hiding around every corner when you hear that rumbling voice. You tried everything to keep the wound closed, to pretend that he's still dead, to justify all the mourning you've gone through all these years.

Another reason not to face him was how you reacted when he told you his plan. You were the first to know, and you've never felt your heart sink so fast. It was like he had struck a dagger to your stomach and kissed you as you were bleeding out. You had exploded with anger you couldn't control and stormed out before he could do anything about it. You screamed at him as he collapsed onto his knees that you would never forgive him, and so far, you've kept that promise. The next time you saw him was before he made his great sacrifice, and you had nothing else to say to him. You couldn't say anything else.

And you won't for a long time, not when you have headphones on to block out the world. You stand at the sink in the human kitchen. It's semi-exposed to the main base, with a half-wall shielding the stove and sink. You're not sure why it's exposed; it must be concerning the lack of rooms in this old military bunker. You don't care anyway. You only care about scrubbing the dishes beyond clean and slamming them onto the drying rack before you break the delicate ceramic plates from gripping them too hard.

While cleaning the dishes, you don't realise how much of a racket you're making with your music blasting and capture the attention of the one bot you were trying to avoid.

Optimus.

He looks at you curiously, a hint of longing in his optics. Optimus knows you're avoiding him, and it's so blatantly obvious that everyone notices, too, creating tension through the base you could cut with a sharp enough knife. He wants to talk to you. He needs to talk to you. And so far, this is the only opportunity he's stumbled upon that could make it possible. Though, he doesn't want to frighten you and scare you away. He needs to be gentle and cautious in his actions, but it's difficult when you can't hear or see him.

Optimus reaches out, his servo twitching at how gentle he's trying to be. He touches your shoulder with a single digit but retracts his servo quickly when you jump out of your skin and drop a plate on the floor, shattering the ceramic in all different directions.

You scream then seethe, ripping your headphones off to face whoever dares to lay a finger on you, "Why the fuck would you-"

Frozen in your tracks, you stare at Optimus, the longest you've looked at him in a long time. Your heart snaps in two again, and the wound in your mind festers with flashbacks before you try to make a run for it. You don't get far, though, before you step on a piece of broken ceramic and cry out in pain.

"Ah!" You fall back on the ground, clutching your lower leg, "Fuck it-"

"Y/n, I am so sorr-"

"N-No!" You practically spit in his face. You let go of your leg and scramble backwards into a corner. With nowhere else to go, you turn to face him again and watch how his grip tightens on the railing before him. If looks could kill, Optimus would still be dead. Maybe you secretly hoped it was possible, "Get away from me."

"Please, you're hurt," Optimus looks down at your bare foot, now bleeding heavily onto the floor from a deep gash.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, not giving a damn that you're bleeding. You've been through worse, after all, "Oh, so now you care?"

Optimus tilts his helm, "What? I have always cared-"

"Oh really? You're really going to do this, Optimus?" You growl, grabbing the bench above you to pull yourself up, "You didn't seem to care about me when you sacrificed yourself! No, scratch that," You point a bloody finger at him, "When you fucking abandoned me!"

Optimus's shoulders sink, his grip on the railing relaxing as he feels like you've plunged a knife into him, "I did not-" He sighs heavily, like he cannot find the words, "Please... let us get you to Ratchet."

"I don't need his or- or your help," You hobble on one foot, hissing in pain as you make your way to anywhere else on the planet. The blood smears on the floor with every misguided step as you pass by him with a cold shoulder, "I've managed just fine on my own, Prime." You sneer at him.

Optimus watches you hop down the stairs, and he slumps his frame down on the railing. His vocaliser rumbles with regret and pain at how you're treating him. And it's not like he can blame you. Optimus would probably be stricken with the same grief if a lover of his decided to sacrifice themselves; he'd be absolutely distraught. And all that distraught just for them to return like it was a mere week-long vacation? Well, he wasn't sure what he'd do. He thought you would be overjoyed and run up to him with that beautiful smile on your lips, perhaps even beg for one of those joyrides he always loved taking you on through the desert. He thought you would've missed him, the bare minimum for someone who has lost a loved one.

Optimus sighs and lifts his helm from the railing before turning on his pedes to look for something else to distract him from you. He looks down before he takes a step and sees your trail of smeared blood on the concrete. His optic ridges furrow, a look of determination and apprehension as he steps to follow your crimson breadcrumbs out of the hangar doors.

Before he reaches the hangar doors, a soft touch plants itself on his shoulder, and he jolts slightly. Optimus turns his helm down to see a gloomy look on Ratchet's face, his servo squeezing his shoulder comfortingly.

"Let them go, Optimus," He speaks softly, "They need some space."

Space is the only thing he's given them so far.

-

"Stupid fucking dishes. Stupid me. Stupid him."

Your fingers tremble as you rip some of your shirt off to wrap around the gash in your foot. The minor hit of adrenaline quickly left you like a hit of nic as soon as you slumped down on the other side of the hangar outside. The dull throbbing turns into sharp pain as you tighten the fabric, causing a small whimper to leave your throat. You relax your head against the concrete wall behind you, wishing you could slam it against it instead. But anger slowly drains from your frame, and you bury your face into your dirty hands, and you sob—a heartbreaking sight to anyone that were to stumble upon you.

But you find that the tears weren't mourning from him, but for yourself.

How selfish are you? Are you so dense in the head that you're blindsighted to how much he loves you? How much Optimus missed you that even after facing the hereafter, he came back for you? How awful must the afterlife be for him to want to come back to you, of all people? These questions come flooding into your mind with every tear-jerking sob that wracks your body. But the one question at the forefront of your mind terrifies you, making you want to slump further into the self-deprecating aura you've swallowed yourself in.

Do you still love him?

You bite your lip hard. Do you still love him? That's a stupid question to ask yourself. Of course you still love him. You wouldn't be the person you are today if you never did.

Then why the fuck do you push him away?

You don't know. Maybe it was how you spoke to him before he took his own spark, being so ashamed of yourself that you could barely look at him. Or perhaps you've become too comfortable in your new adjustment to life without him, and for that to all come crumbling down so suddenly with no warning has shaken you to your core.

That's very selfish of you.

You know that. You've always known that.

Maybe you just weren't ready to let go.

A deep, trembling breath leaves your parted lips.

...

Yeah, you know.

-

Optimus stealthily follows the trail once again after Ratchet leaves. He just can't walk away after that encounter. And as much as it hurts him to see your reaction, he must ensure you're okay despite whatever you spit in his face. Optimus did not beg at the throne of Primus himself for another chance at nothing. He needs to make amends, no matter how much of a fight you put up at your wishes to be left alone.

Soft steps of his pedes lead him on a wild goose chase. It seemed as if you had stumbled around in circles for quite some time, the trail of blood looping around before overlapping itself to follow the edge of the hangar. Optimus become increasingly concerned about your welfare, worried you have lost too much blood. But he knows that you are tough if all these years on your own have anything to show for it.

His pace replaces stealth for hastiness as he continues on the trail, rounding the next corner of the hanger. He stops in his tracks when he sees you, and his eyes soften with pure broken-heartness. His servos clenching in regret.

He carefully approaches your slumped frame and stands before you. He first notices your foot, half bandaged and leaking slightly. You weren't wrong after all. You could take care of yourself. He smiles softly to himself at this.

Optimus carefully kneels in front of you, still a fair distance away. All he wants to do is pick you up and tell you that everything is alright, that he's here and not ready to leave again anytime soon.

He keeps his servos to himself for now.

"Y/n," Optimus begins softly, "I know you are upset," This seems like an all too familiar conversation, "And you have every right to be."

No reaction from you so far, a few sobs and hiccups. His spark clenches.

"I did not get a chance to tell you how truly thankful I am for you," Optimus continues, fidgeting with a digit in his lap, "How I still reminisce on our long-forgotten time together, even whilst I was merged with the All Spark."

Optimus takes a chance. He shuffles closer to you and gently pries your hands from your face like you were a pretty piece of wrapping paper he wanted to keep. His optics drag over your sodden face, how your eyes begin to focus on his. It wasn't the fiery look of anger he had seen just earlier but one that looked of surrender; you had given up a fight he wished he could've helped you with.

Optimus moves one servo from your hands to gently caress your face, a gentle digit brushing over your cheeks, "My, just look at you," He cups your chin softly, tilting your head to look up at him, "You are still as beautiful as ever."

He watches as the tears well in your eyes again, a small glimmer in your eyes that's more familiar to him than the dull. You grip his servo and pull it into a hug, resting your forehead on his wrist, and you cry.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry...I-I'm stupid... I shouldn't have..." You sob, clutching onto him with every fibre of your being, "Oh god..."

Optimus's spark fizzles and cracks at your heart-breaking apology and the tears dripping onto his servo. He gives you a sombre look before carefully pulling you into his servos, picking you up to press you against his chassis to return his long-awaited affections.

"Shh," He hushes your cries, pressing a gentle kiss to your head as he rocks you softly like a slumbering sparkling, "It is alright; nothing you say could ever make me resent you."

You sniffle, burying your head into his chassis. His familiar scent of motor oil and fumes fills your senses and relaxes you deeper into him. You try to speak, to say anything other than hiccuping pathetically.

"I-" You stutter, ripping your face away from his chassis to stare up at him. A shaky hand reaches up to touch him, a tiny 'tink' as your fingernail grazes against his face plate. He's real, he's here, and he's not mad at you. And the best thing is, he forgives you.

And you forgive him.

"I missed you," You take a sharp breath, "I miss you so much."

Optimus' sombre frown turns into a small smile; a weight lifts off his frame at your admission. The worry he put himself through all seems to melt away as he presses a soft kiss to your lips, hoping to melt away your grief with the kiss along with his.

You gasp softly. Far too much time has passed since you've felt those gentle dermas meld into yours, and as much as the past you wanted to forget how his touches felt, you find yourself kissing him back with as much need and passion. A few fleeting moments pass before you're forced to part for a much-needed breath. It feels like life has returned to you, like after all this time without him you were holding your breath in fear of drowning.

Optimus closes his optics, softly pressing his forehead against yours, leaning into the warm touch of your hands that he oh so craved. He knows you still love him, he never once doubted that deep down inside you always did, even after he had regretfully abandoned you.

"I miss you too."

Finally. He felt good to say that.

[asarajaa]

Hi Sarah! Love you hcs could you do some hcs about bonten rindou who's trying to get attention from the reader but the reader is busy?? Thank you love!!!

Hello sweetheart! Tysm!

Ofc! Here you have it 🤗 🤗 🤗

My boy rindou needs to be more drawn, like I only found one GOOD pic of him in Bonten for the banner 😩😭

Warnings: fem!reader, fluff Words: 963 Disclaimer: English isn't my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Rindou wanting attention hcs

₊˚ෆ Okay so one thing that I know is that Rindou is an attention seeker (just like his brother), don't ask me how I just know 🤷🏽‍♀️

₊˚ෆ He's the little brother after all, what else did you expect?

₊˚ෆ Plus, Ran doesn't help, really. Like I believe that Ran's Rindou's number one fan. I hc that when Rindou had a theater or smh like that at school Ran would be in the first line recording, clapping, screaming and just being Ran tbh.

₊˚ෆ At the start of your relationship with him he wouldn't show it, he's a 29 year old mafia man who is independant (his brother doesn't count), but as it progresses…

₊˚ෆ Look, when it comes to you, realistically, or he couldn't care less or he would lose his mind. Like he's a mafia man, I don't know what you expected.

₊˚ෆ If is the last option, the only Bonten member apart from him you'll know is his brother, no one else. This man is like a doberman, he'll protect you even if that's the last thing he'll do.

₊˚ෆ Ofc, Ran would do the same. You make his brother happy? He would protect you no matter what, just like Rindou would do it with his girl. There would be 4 persons in your marriage with Rindou; the two of you ofc and then Ran and his wife.

₊˚ෆ Because of this closeness, you and Ran's wife inevitably became friends, reaching the point of being like sisters who grew up together.

₊˚ෆ The only way for you to be Rindou's wife is if you knew him before everything. Here, the woman of the process was you and the woman to whom Rindou showed his teachings was also you. The same happens with Ran.

₊˚ෆ You'll meet each other in your high schooler years and stay with together since then, as the same happens with Rans wife, you girls practically grew up together.

₊˚ෆ When your husbands work, you would be going to Pilates class together, having brunches very frequently, planning playdates for your children (if you have them) and so on.

₊˚ෆ Basically you girls are maintained, at their insistence more than anything (because there is no way your husbands will let their wives do a single bit of work).

₊˚ෆ In this family of 4, visit each other was a tradition. Every Saturday, you went to each other's houses to have dinner.

₊˚ෆ Of course, when you see your bestie you forget about everything else. She's your bestie after all, you've got to tell each other tea when the spoon, the sugar and the cup weren't around. And if there's someone to blame, it's their fault.

₊˚ෆ Rindou didn't notice, just happy to see you happily talking with your best friend. He knows he is out very often, so he's glad you have someone to talk to.

₊˚ෆ But when the hours went by, and you're just talking with his brother and his wife, Rindou started to pout.

"What? You're seeing things, go check yourself for schizophrenia baby." he'll say every time you bring up the topic.

₊˚ෆ Rindou's an attention seeker and a semidirect one, like he'll give you a very direct hint about his feelings. He's a man, he's not ashamed about his feelings (to the most of them) and he's a "were not going to bed before we resolve our problem" type of guy.

₊˚ෆ He demonstrated this after a while.

You and Rans wife were happily talking in the living room, Ran doing some comments here and there but mostly of all you and her.

"–and the house must be clean! And that's literally what he told Asteria" she finished, leaning back to her husband’s arm again.

"No way!" you gasped in shock.

"I know, right? After all the things Asteria has done for him." she said letting out a sigh "He has the nerve to ask for more when she has done the impossible for him and for their family."

"Men these days." you denied with disappointment, getting supported by an assent and a 'yeah' for her part "Oh! How did I forget it? We have a present for you guys for your new pregnancy!" you revealed enthusiastic.

"Really? You guys didn't have to." said Ran.

"Nonsense, we gotta show our good wishes for the new future member." replied Rindou "It's in the car, we'll go for it, wait here." Rindou said standing up first, extending a hand to help you standing up.

As you guys were going to the garage, you felt a hand on your waist, pulling you closely to Rindous body.

"You know, you seem to enjoy the company of your best friend who you see almost every day more than the company of your husband, the one who is out very often." he said, giving you a squeeze on your waist while he took out the car keys with the other one.

"Ow, you want my attention? Is that what's going on?" you said teasing him, losing the warmth of his hand as he went to get the gift.

"Yes. I would be grateful, thank you." Rindou said directly, coming back with the gift (a very pretty baby cart that costed thousands) in his hands.

You chuckle as you were going to his side, hugging one of his arms and starting to tell him that it would be great to have another baby (or your first) so that It could be your best friends partner and thanks to that you could become family and- No, Rindou, our marriage is not enough, if our kids get married it would be like another different level.

Rindou, looking at you while you were daydreaming about some childhood best friend trope, wouldn't avoid the thought of-

Anything to see that smile in your face, my love.

₊˚ෆ Two month went by, and guess who's pregnant?

I love Rindou sm 😭💗

I hc that he would be very direct like he wouldn't have any drop of shame in his body.

omg it's currently 0:28 and I didn't make my masterlist yet 😩

Update: omg I’m so dumb, I just noticed that the request said that the reader was BUSY like doing smth and not having time 4 him like I didn’t finished reading the request– omg I’m so stupid 💀✋🏽

I’m so sorry, please send me a request saying if do you want me to change it or anything. I’m so sorry but it’s currently 1:57 and my brain is not braining 😭😭😭

So sorry baby :(

28/04/24

© asarajaa — Please, do not copy, translate or reuse my work without my permission.

[spooky-all-year-round]

Battle Confession

The prompts: "I thought I'd never see you again" and "You said... 'I love you'."

SFW G/n Reader x Ominis. This takes place post-game, I left it open for what the situation could be but if the triwizard tournament happens their 6th year then this would be in their 7th. Cause Hogwarts can never have one peaceful year. =)

Trigger warnings: hints of violence, anxiety, sad ominis, but it's happy I promise!

You were running flat out, students were being ushered out of the castle in droves. You were forcing your way past and between them. You had to get to the fight. You rounded the corner and spotted blonde slicked back hair and a robe lined with green. Slamming to a stop you shouted his name, grabbing his left hand with your right and placed your left hand on his right arm to stop him fully. "Ominis i need to tell you something." You were desperate, he had to know.

"What? Tell me later, we need to leave! The teachers said we all need to get off of school grounds! Its not-" he started.

"Ominis I dont know how this will all end. But I need you to know that I love you!" You placed a quick kiss on his cheek before taking off again. His shouts were quickly drowned out between the distance and the sounds of everyone leaving. All you knew is that you needed to save everyone. You needed to save him. Even if it meant you couldn't stay by his side.

You awoke a week later in the hospital wing early in the morning. Matron Blainey filled you in on your injuries and what she has done to heal them and on all the gifts that were left and visiors that had come by. Most notably one Mr.Gaunt, who came daily and for as long as he could. After all was said and done she stated she wanted to keep you overnight for observation and gave you a potion to help you sleep some more.

When you woke up this time it must have only been a few hours later. You could feel drops hit your hand and just as you wondered how there was even possibly a leak in this castle, you began to notice things. That hand was warm, clasped between two of someone else's. And there was a soft hitch in breath before more quiet shuddering breaths came. "Please, you have to come back. You cant leave me." A stiffled sob. "I cant lose you. I wish I had stopped you. Dragged you out of the school myself. I cant believe I froze. That I let you run off into danger again."

You're heart ached he couldnt possibly blame himself. You body was sore and so tired but you had to push through. You had to let him know it wasnt his fault. Sweet Ominis, sitting here crying, blaming himself for your reckless heroics. Had this been what he has been doing every day he visited?

You started trying to push yourself up but only managing a few shifts thanks to the sleeping potion weighing your body down. But it was enough to catch his attention. Because he let out a small gasp and a whisper of your name as if he couldnt believe you were awake. You slowly blinked your eyes open squinting at the sun coming from the other side of the room. His face was one of shock, his beautiful icy blue eyes looking in your direction, even from this angle you could see the beautiful star burst pattern in them. He stood up while reaching for his wand, ready to grab Matron Blainey. He stopped short when he felt your hand tighten around his as you begged, "No please, let me be with you for a moment. I spoke with her earlier." He sat back down obligingly, you could now see his puffy eyes and the hint of red on his nose and cheeks from crying. Slowly you reached up with your other hand to gently hold his face. Another tear started to roll down his cheek. "Ominis my dear, please dont blame yourself. I had to do it. I had to save the school, I had to save you."

He shook his head. "To hell with the school. The teachers could have handled it. You've saved it before so why must you again? I should have stopped you. I should have begged you. Anything to get you to come to safety!" His words were cut off by another sob and you took the chance to stop his spiralling.

"They needed me, they needed my powers. They're strong but they needed my magic to put a stop to it. I'm sorry I didn't explain more but I had to go. The longer i took the worse the aftermath wouldve been." Your voice was almost a haze as you did your best to keep yourself from crying.

"You said ...'I love you'." His voice trailed off with that statement. It hung in the air like a question, a plea to know what you meant.

"I thought I'd never see you again. I wanted you to know for a while now. We became so close so quickly and I fell so hard. I couldn't ever get the courage to tell you, I didn't want to lose you over it. But knowing there was a good chance I'd never see you again... I had to tell you." The words just came spilling out. You were anxious to explain, not wanting him to cut in.

He was silent for far too long, his tears had stopped at some point, but your's were welling up. The panic set in, your heart going both too fast and too hard. It hurt so bad, like your heart might break your ribs. He didnt return your feelings. Here you were, ruining one of the few friendships you had because you just had to spill your heart out. Your whole body was trembling and now your tears were streaming non-stop down your face.

He chuckled before bringing your hand to kiss the back of it. "You couldn't find the courage? Well I don't feel like such a coward hearing that. My darling, I have been infatuated with you for so long. I don't know when it turned to love, but it has been that way for a while. You are the warmth of the sun wrapped up as a person. The sweet melody that gets caught and stuck in my head. A cold drink on a hot day. A comforting story after a terrible nightmare. I have bent to your whims when I was solid as stone to others. I would find a way to give you the universe if you so much as hinted that you wanted it. I would do anything if it made you happy, regardless of how it made me feel. I dont know why but something in you pulls me harder then any accio that could ever be performed. I have heard of soulmates and it would be the only explanation I could give right now. I never wish to lose you and it killed me to think I almost did. You feel like safety and comfort to me... I love you so much."

His declaration knocked the wind out of you. How could you respond to that? So you did the only thing you could think of within your physical abilities. You pulled his hands back towards you and kissed both of them. "How could i go anywhere when the one place i want to be is with you?"

[fandomzwriterk]

Smoke and Mirrors

Pairings: Tomas Vrbada/Smoke x OC

Warnings: slight gore + Amnesiac!OC + religious trauma (?) + characters dying + hinted innuendos later on + Kuai & Bi Han trying to be good brothers + Liu Kang as a dad figure (?) + Tomas just being his sweet lovable self + Bi Han being kind of a dick + Kuai Liang having no clue what it’s like to have a sister + confused “brother” Kuai Liang (?) + Raiden, Kung Lao, Johnny, and Kenshi being simps (mostly Raiden)

PT: 6/?

While Kuai and Bi-Han went on a mission in Las Angeles, Angel and Tomas were stuck back at base with Raiden and the other new recruits. Liu Kang didn’t take Tomas with his brothers, which in of itself was an odd thing. Angel didn’t mind though, as long as she wasn’t alone.

“So how did you come to join the Lin Kuei?” Raiden asked the pale haired girl

Raiden and Kung Lao sat at the steps of main path to the training grounds where everyone else was. Angel was nearby, sitting on a rock thinking with her back to them.

“I’m sure it was a grand story right? Much like the brothers?”

Angel was silent, hearing them but never saying a word.

“I’m sure your family must be proud too… or the family that raised you right? Bi-Han and Kuai Liang’s parents right?”

“They didn’t raise me. I showed up here months ago. That’s all.”

“That’s all? There has to be more right?”

Angel stood up, turning around to face both men as she stood towering over them.

“No. There isn’t. As far as I know, I remember nothing before I came here. All I have are the times I’ve spent here for the last few months, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m happy I have something to be in the Lin Kuei for.”

Raiden and Kung Lao were silent, letting Angel jump down and proceeding to walk away, letting Tomas walk in their direction as Angel went the other.

“Angel?”

She ignored him, walking past him as he watched her attention turn away from Raiden and Kung Lao.

“Did I say something?” Raiden asked

Raiden was concerned, he was a newbie to everyone here and he probably just offended the last person he wanted to wrong.

“What’d you say?” Tomas asked

“I just asked how her time was here as a kid and she told me she’s barely been here for a few months. I didn’t mean to offend.”

“We swear it wasn’t our intent.”

“I know. You’re curious, trust me I know. It just takes time with her.”

“She said she doesn’t remember anything. Is that true? How does she know her name though?”

“Oh that’s the name I gave her. She didn’t have one, so I called her that and then so did everyone else. It just stuck.”

“Oh. You really seem to care about her don’t you?”

“Of course. She’s probably my best friend here, and maybe my only friend.”

However… Raiden and Kung Lao didn’t believe him. But then again, as Liu Kang said, Tomas has a good heart, so maybe it’s just his nature to love and care for everyone the same. Maybe that was also because Tomas kept to himself, really only talking to his brothers and Angel.

“Why did you pick the name Angel?”

Tomas shrugged, he didn’t really have an answer. He just knew of angels from stories his mom told him, and Angel radiated that “energy” about her.

“Anyways. We’re gonna go train but can you tell Angel we’re sorry for us?”

“Sure guys, I will.”

And they all went separate ways. Tomas walking to find Angel while Raiden and Kung Lao went to train on the other side of the base.

“Angel? Where did you go?”

Silence greeted Tomas as he took quiet and careful steps, making sure not to disturb Angel in case she didn’t see him coming.

“Angel?” He whispered

“Tomas?”

His attention went up, noticing Angel sitting on the roof of a small hut that some foot soldiers slept in.

“I’ll be right there.” Tomas answered as he used his smoke magic to disappear, then reappearing next to Angel who was seated at the edge of the hut

“What made you come looking for me?”

Tomas adjusted his sitting, hanging his legs over the rooftop with Angel as well. Angel looked sad, seeming to try and think of something.

“Are you alright Angel?”

She nodded, just sighing as she moved her hands back, deciding to lean back a little to stare at the sky. The covers over her eyes intrigued Tomas each and every day. What could possibly be under those? What color did they look like? White? Red? Tomas wanted to know.

“You ever take it off?”

“This?” Angel asked pointing to her eyes with her pointer finger

“Yeah. How can you even see? Is it just muscle memory?”

“I… I don’t know. It’s as if I can see everything, but it’s like I’ve done this all before.”

“Before?”

“Like this just a memory that my own body remembers, just not me. As if I have no control, I just see and speak.”

Angel looked defeated. What even was she to begin with? How do you start a whole life over with no memory of anything before the moment you open your eyes, like nothing ever happened.

“Maybe, it’s just you. Maybe somehow, before you came here, maybe you were a good fighter. Maybe you were the strongest out there.”

Tomas was optimistic at trying to help Angel to remember anything, even if it didn’t seem significant at first. I hurt him to see Angel sad, after all she’s been good to him and his brothers. Tomas was willing to help someone who cared for him back, so he was going to do anything his friend asked of him.

“I’m sure we’ll figure it out together.”

Angel nodded, still staring out into the horizon, seeming to be thinking of something.

“I’ll see you in the morning Tomas.” She spoke softly before standing up, spreading her wings and taking off towards the other side of the complex

Next morning…

Angel woke up when a loud sound of someone screaming jolted her senses awake. Looking to her left and onto her table side, she reached for a small blade, letting it extend into a spear as she jumped out of bed. One hand in front her and the other behind her, Angel slowly walked to the door. She opened it, slowly looking left towards the wall that was next to Kuai’s room, who was at the end of the hall. She looked right, seeing Raiden about five feet in front of her also walking carefully and slowly. Quickly, she pulled her head back behind the door.

“What in the world are you doing?”

“I came to see if you were awake. I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

Angel made the blade disappear, standing up to full walk out the door.

“It wasn’t you who woke me up. I heard someone screaming.”

“Screaming? Oh you mean Johnny.”

“Johnny?”

“One of the new champions from last night. You know, the one Lord Liu Kang wanted to find.”

“Right. I remember.”

“Well come on! Everyone’s waiting for you.”

He turned and ran down the hall, completely forgetting the fact that Angel had her hair over her face in case the wraps fell from her face. She turned to walk back inside her room, making her way to the long white outfit she wore every day. It was almost like a robe, but the back was longer than the front. Her wraps lay on top of the robe, also noticing her golden robe pieces were a little dirty.

“No problem. I can easily clean this later.”

She put on her robe-like dress, making sure the sleeves were perfectly cut halfway down her shoulders. She didn’t show as much of her body like Smoke and his brothers did, but Angel still felt happy with what she wore. The perfectly shaped hole on the back was small, but just big enough for her to spread her wings comfortably. So with her dress on and her golden bands on her wrists, Angel walked out the door and went to go outside. It wasn’t even five seconds before she walked out that a loud “FUCKING SHIT” could be heard somewhere in the distance.

“Oh no.”

To be continued…

[bonetrousled]

please please please please gawd tell me more about ur pap being the knight theory OR if u would so pls direct me to where u talked abt it before. u have truly GRIPPED me w this

OH GOD I HAVE SO SO MUCH OK. so i DO have the papyrus powerpoint HERE which has a section on that a little more in-depth and i will say i am not the first to come up w this idea but personally it's the only option that makes Complete sense w no holes to me. this is all going off the concept that papyrus is likely younger here bc sans asks kris to hang out w him. my ramblings under a cut bc im about to go fucking CRAZY

the knight, by people that have seen him already, is always referred to w he/it pronouns. papyrus and sans are the only characters that fit the he/it bill (both of them are referred to with it/its in the lost soul fight, nobody else is referred to this way)

there is NO way that kris OR susie could have made the dark worlds in chapter 1 and chapter 2. the dark world had to have been opened AFTER noelle and berdly got to the library (since their books and stuff are open) but BEFORE kris and susie arrived, crossing all of them off potential dark world opener lists. also up until this point kris didn't even Know how to open a dark world

there's the closet in the library that states that "a very large person could easily fit inside". papyrus could have potentially been hiding in there and waiting for others to come to open the fountain. additionally in ut he says that there's no skeletons in his closet- except him sometimes

but then the question of motive comes up. Why would he do that?

so far from what we've seen in deltarune, papyrus is an asocial shut-in. given that the main core of other characters hasn't really been altered, we can also assume what he wants MOST is to feel important and be liked, like in undertale. combining these two aspects leads us to someone who can't bring himself to socialize with others in the real world, but DESPERATELY wants to feel necessary and admired.

the whole deal w the dark world is wish fulfillment, at least as i see it. susie gets a cool outfit with spikes and makes friends, she has her own room with her own style, etc. berdly gets a cool, nerdy sci-fi outfit and is put in charge, and even gets to have a heroic moment towards the end of chapter 2. noelle gets to tell her true feelings to a mother figure and gets to spend time with susie. so if you get what you want most in the dark world, it would make COMPLETE sense for papyrus to not only be spending time in them, but opening more fountains to spend as much time in them as possible.

plus, what have we seen the first two chapters thus far? EVERYONE important and in-charge LOVES the knight. all they do is talk abt him and how awesome he is. double tying in this aspect of wish fulfillment to the weird, perfect nature of hometown- people who didn't really get a chance at life are still alive, everyone is happy, that sort of thing. papyrus is the ONLY main character out of all of undertale that NEVER gets what he wants. every other character gets some sort of completion to their arc, some sort of resolution and closure, they meet their goals, they achieve something. by the end of true pacifist, papyrus doesn't get ANYTHING. his friend count is still stagnant, he never proves himself, or gets any sort of important role (he only becomes the ambassador if you DON'T want to). putting two and two together here, it would make perfect sense for papyrus to finally get his moment- by his own hands.

plus, and this is just a little obvious here, but if you become what you want the most in the dark world, and papyrus wanted to be in the guard- what would you call a member of a royal guard? a knight.

alongside the weird, vague hints that papyrus must have had SOMETHING happen to him in his past and that he wasn't always a great guy (very adamant about how people can change, the "I'M A PRETTY BRUTAL KIND OF GUY" line, the way he admits to you in aborted no mercy that he was going to blast you to smithereens) and we NEVER get resolution/explanation for that (or any of the other weird shit he says [see powerpoint]) i feel like there's just too much setup here for any other option to make sense to me. papyrus is also just very obviously toby's favorite character from ut, he's the only one he ever commissioned art for just to have and he clearly really enjoys writing him and doing stuff w him. anyway ummm im insane :) *grins*

[jiayuechen]

Viper, please scold me again.

【Chamber X Viper】 Valorant fanfic ongoing.

Chapter 1

Seeing Doubles

*I’m not a native speaker so I’m looking forward to your suggestions on my vocabulary and grammar.

“Viper, you must let me take you out some time. ”

“Viper, I know the perfect place for dinner, dancing.”

“Viper, don't pretend you're not happy to see me. ”

“Sabine...”

"Shut up!" Viper finally couldn't bear it anymore and yelled at Chamber, "I've told you not to use my real name during missions."

Chamber remained silent, then let out a few awkward laughs.

The same drama played out every time Chamber and Viper teamed up for a mission.

Out of respect for Viper, most agents quietly stood by and watched the entire drama, privately exchanging comments.

But there were also younger agents like Phoenix and Yoru who didn't care, expressing their views publicly.

"This isn't the first time, is it?" Yoru said gleefully.

"Sorry, I've silenced Viper again," Chamber apologized with remorse.

Thus, Viper faced the second painful moment in her life — embarrassment.

No one ever considered why such an awkward drama continued to went on between Viper and Chamber.

One, a French agent known for elegance and finesse.

The other, an American scientist turned to the dark side for revenge.

Logically speaking, with Chamber's emotional intelligence, if he truly wanted to pursue Viper, there would surely be better tactics.

And conversely, knowing Viper's character, if she truly wanted to reject Chamber, she would have more decisive methods.

Furthermore, with their respective charm and abilities, they could undoubtedly find better partners.

So why continue this same drama?

No one knows, and no one has really thought about it.

After all, those who come to Valorant each have their own purposes — whether to find long-lost family, reclaim lost memories, or see departed loved ones reborn.

As long as there’s no conflict with oneself, no one delves into the true motives of others.

Just like how Chamber and Viper treat each other at this moment.

"Chamber, I think we need to have a serious talk."

After the mission, Viper pulled Chamber aside.

"Well, I've been wanting to have a chat with you. Let's find a coffee shop..." Chamber seemed genuinely unaware of what Viper was talking about and pulled out his phone.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." Viper looked visibly impatient. "I want to discuss about how you flirt with me in front of other agents."

"Well..." Chamber stopped joking around.

He knew Viper is not an idiot. Also, he knew very well that the real issue between them was the trust issue almost every Valorant agent had with Chamber. Viper was particularly sensitive to this, never truly trusting Chamber since he joined, and always ready to eliminate him.

As the false flattery slowly faded from Chamber's handsome face, an image of a shrewd arms dealer reappeared behind the mask. Viper's lips twitched slightly behind her mask. She paused and said, "I like things direct. First, less flirting during missions, more focus. Second, don't use my real name when other agents are present."

"Is that all?"

Chamber seemed to relax a little.

"That's all," Viper replied. Her tone was gentle and enticing, revealing no hint of fear or suspicion.

"If you don't say anything, I'll take that as a yes," Viper continued.

"No problem!" The usual pleasing smile returned to Chamber's face. "Um... just to confirm, so it's okay to call you Sabine in private or in letters, right?"

"Whatever suits you," Viper replied casually. "You're charming, Chamber, but not as clever as you think."

"So, let's get this straight, what are you really conflicted about?" Reyna took a deep sip from her coffee cup and asked.

"I don't know why I said that." Viper poured coffee from the siphon into her cup as she spoke.

"You mean saying he's charming?"

"Yes. I just wanted to say he should focus more on the mission, and I didn't want to delve into anything else. But I don't know why I said that."”

"Firstly, Viper," Reyna set down her coffee cup, "are you sure I'm a good emotional counselor?"

"I wouldn't talk to that woman who does revive stuff or those brats," Viper replied.

"What about Killjoy?"

"We don't discuss matters beyond the experiment."

"Ah," Reyna sighed heavily, "I never thought I'd see today."

"Let me ask you, Reyna. With my temper and age, would a man as young and rich as Chamber pursue me purely out of affection?"

"Correct." Reyna replied frankly.

"Then why would he pursue me?" Viper asked.

"Chamber is slightly more astute than other businessmen, in that you can never see through his true intentions," Reyna replied. "Just as I didn't understand why he would spend so much money supporting my shelter."

"If we don't know his purpose, but Cypher and Fade haven't intervened, it at least proves that this purpose won't conflict with the objectives of Valorant for the time being,"

"That makes sense." Reyna replied.

"So, here's the question. Considering Chamber pursues me for his own reasons, would you fall in love with a man flirting with you like that?" Viper asked.

"No, I'd just give him a headshot." Reyna replied bluntly.

"Exactly, so his actions wouldn't achieve his purpose. Do you think Chamber, with his abilities, would not realize this?" Viper pressed.

"Well..." Reyna hesitated, "maybe French men are just more confident? They think they know everything about women."

"If it's just a pursuit out of genuine affection, that makes sense. But if there are other motives, he seems to be overly confident," Viper concluded.

Reyna nodded, taking a large gulp of coffee to digest all this information.

"But..." Viper looked out the window thoughtfully.

"But what?" Reyna looked at her, puzzled.

"I'm thinking, if his goals don't conflict with Valorant and he needs my help to achieve them, why can't he just tell me directly?" Viper replied.

"What?" Reyna was so surprised she almost sprayed coffee everywhere. "What are you planning, Viper?"

"I don't actually dislike him," Viper answered. "The real reason I hesitate to get close to him is because of that sense of mistrust. He's keeping too many secrets from us."

"So you don't actually like him, right?" Reyna seemed almost unwilling to accept these words from herself.

"I said I don't dislike him," Viper reiterated. "It's just that I think he's not very clever. He hides himself so well that it makes everyone wary."

"But that's just who he is!" Reyna was struggling to organize her thoughts. "I mean, if he were to reveal his intentions and you disagreed, what would he do next? After all, he's a businessman."

"But right now, There’s not even a possibility of me helping him. He should take a chance at least," Viper replied.

"So we just have to wait for him to come around, is that it?" Reyna seemed more confused with each passing moment.

"I don't think he will come around," Viper said.

"Then let him be."

"But is it a good thing to have someone in Valorant who can't be trusted by others?"

Reyna chugged coffee like a relentless coffee pouring machine, trying to keep her brain awake with caffeine.

Despite the fruitless conversation with Reyna, Viper engaged in some introspection and began to understand the source of her inner turmoil.

Perhaps Reyna had a point. Chamber wasn't sure if he cared about his true purpose, and he feared that revealing it would lead to Viper rejecting him completely.

If that was the case, why not give him a chance to speak up?

Viper casually picked up one of Chamber's love letters, dipped it in the specially crafted green ink he had given her, and started writing on parchment. The writing process wasn't easy; despite having a template to follow, Viper wasn't adept at writing such sentimental things. Considering that anyone else seeing the contents of the letter would lead Viper to poison herself, she decided to personally deliver the letter to Chamber.

"Sova, where's Chamber?" Viper asked.”

"He's in the VIP lounge at Breeze," Sova replied, focused on adjusting his bolt without looking up.

"Thank you." Saying that, Viper left Sova's room.

It took him a moment to realize.

"Wait, who was she looking for just now?!"

Realizing something was wrong, Sova hurriedly ran towards the rooms of Cypher and Fade.

The bar at Breeze was as lively as ever.

Up on the third-floor VIP section, a regular patron awaited in his trademark white shirt and blue waistcoat—a Frenchman known as Chamber.

"Sir, your guest has arrived," the waiter whispered in French.

Chamber discreetly placed a rendezvous anchor under the table corner, then went down the stairs.

Rendezvous, also known as French Displacement, was a secret technique allowing for a swift retreat to base when combat turned unfavorable. By placing an anchor at a safe location, one could quickly escape the battlefield within a certain radius.

Leaving an anchor was a habit Chamber developed over years as an arms dealer.

After all, in this line of work, you never knew what tomorrow might bring.

The term "French Displacement" might sound like mocking cowardice for thinking of escape during negotiations, but for an arms dealer, adaptability was a necessary quality in this less-than-glamorous business.

On the other side, Viper also arrived at the VIP section of the Breeze bar, holding what was referred to as a "love letter."

She glimpsed Chamber coming down from upstairs, appearing to wait for someone.

Despite its concealed location, based on their familiarity with each other's habits during missions, Viper discovered the rendezvous anchor under the table corner.

Viper knew Chamber wouldn't place an anchor here without reason. She had also heard rumors that Chamber had encountered the Chamber from Omega and they had even collaborated. Surely, this anchor was meant to guard against a certain collaborator.

Putting on a gas mask and holding a vial of snake bite venom, Viper found a narrow corner on the VIP balcony where she could hide her figure. From there, she observed every move along the seaside through the railing.

About two minutes later, a man approached Chamber.

He wasn't wearing overalls or formal attire, just casual clothes, but his build and mannerisms were strikingly similar to someone Viper had in her mind. Viper vaguely felt she had seen this man somewhere before, but couldn't recall why.

"Could it be him?" Viper widened her eyes. She couldn't believe this person would still appear here.

Viper scrutinized the man in front of her against her memories, finally confirming him to be the same person—the senior engineer from Kingdom Corporation whom Viper had encountered during the lab attack years ago.

She watched as Chamber exchanged a few words with the man and then handed him a note. In return, the man handed over a document.

Unconsciously, Viper tightened her grip on the snake bite venom in her hand. Scenes from the uncontrollable memories of the lab attack flooded Viper's mind.

—flames soaring, devastation everywhere, and the people she cared about forever left behind.

She saw Chamber shaking hands with the mastermind behind all this pain, seemingly enjoying their cooperation.

Just like years ago, anger once again filled her chest, accompanied by myriad pains and despair rushing over her.

Viper struggled to contain her emotions, but her grip on the venom had become uncontrollable.

Click

The snake bite venom slipped from Viper's hand and fell to the ground.

The vial of this poison was not sturdy, designed to shatter upon impact, increasing the damage from the glass shards and allowing the poison to seep into the skin.

"What's happening?" Security and patrons from the Breeze bar rushed over upon hearing the noise.

Viper didn't have time to explain. She knew that soon, fully armed police would arrive here. To avoid raising suspicion, she deployed a smoke screen to obscure the view and swiftly left the bar.

Five minutes ago, on the beach of Breeze.

Chamber watched as his former colleague, dressed in cheap casual clothes, walked towards the beach. He reached out his hand and waved to the man, seemingly nostalgic for their past working together.

"Mr. Fabron," the tall man also extended his hand, friendly gesturing towards Chamber.

"You guys are down to selling action briefs for money now?" Chamber joked lightly.

"Mr. Fabron, you're generous with money. That’s why we're willing," the man replied unabashedly.

"According to the agreed price, here's the check," Chamber said, handing the check to the man.

"And here's the brief you requested," the man handed over the documents promptly.

"Pleasure doing business," Chamber extended his right hand, ready to shake hands with the man.

"Sorry, I just have to ask," the man double-checked the check, seeming a bit incredulous, "This is just an action brief from many years ago. Why is Mr. Fabron willing to pay such a large amount to buy it? Is there something of interest to you?"

"It's none of my concern," Chamber replied, "but it's important to a friend of mine."

"A friend?" The man seemed to doubt his own ears.

"Yes, a friend..." Chamber's gaze dimmed momentarily, but then returned to his usual ambiguous smile, "Actually, I'm not sure either. Just thought I'd buy it first and show her, might be useful."

"Well then, best of luck to you," the man extended his right hand and shook Chamber's hand firmly.

Click. The snake bite venom shattered on the ground, making a piercing sound.

Chamber turned towards the noise, spotting a familiar figure with a gas mask slipping into the toxic fog she had created.

"Oh no," Chamber muttered to himself, without saying goodbye to the man, he hurriedly chased after Viper in the direction she had left.

Viper returned to her room.

The mishap left her shaken to the core.

That anger... that heart-wrenching pain...

After all these years, she had never realized the strength of that force could be so overpowering.

The attack years ago had turned both her and Omen into dreaded monsters.

Omen's terror stemmed from his appearance, while Viper's horror perhaps came from within.

"Instead of shaking hands with that man, I might as well drink my own poison," Viper muttered calmly to herself.

Indeed, just seeing Chamber shake hands with that man caused her to accidentally drop and shatter the snake bite venom.

Did she have the capability to handle Chamber's darker, deeper secrets?

"If his goals are related to that experiment, would I really be able to stop myself from killing him?" Viper murmured to herself again.

She tossed the love letter into the poison, and used a bottle of chilled champagne to calm herself once more.

On the other side, Brimstone's office door was heavily knocked.

"Come in."

"Brimstone, we can't ignore the issue with Chamber any longer." Fade entered, throwing a stack of letters onto Brimstone's desk.

"Is it because of those threatening letters, or do you think Chamber is connected to the people who kidnapped your loved one?"

"Not the threats. It's Viper."

"What's wrong with Viper?"

Fade took a deep breath and said, "I swear on my life that Frenchman is in love with her. Viper went to Breeze's bar to see him today."

Brimstone paused for a moment, then slowly responded, "Since Killjoy and Raze got together, we no longer prohibit romantic relationships between agents."

"That's not the point!" Fade was almost incoherent. "He's a dangerous man who made a deal with his Omega World self. If his intentions don't conflict with the protocol, I might turn a blind eye. But Viper is different. Do you know why the Scions of Hourglass is still hunting her? Do you know why Omen tried to kill her during the lab tragedy years ago? We haven't figured any of this out, and you're okay with Viper being sweet-talked and bombarded with sugar-coated bullets by Chamber every day?"

Brimstone fell silent.

Fade quieted down too, looking pained and occasionally groaning.

After a moment of contemplation, Brimstone finally responded to Fade's concerns with a question of his own.

"Fade, do you think Viper is smart?"”

"Very smart. She's one of the smartest women I've ever met. That's why I came to you. I can't stand seeing such a smart woman being deceived so easily."

"If you think she's smart too, maybe you should trust her like I do."

“What do you mean by trust her?”

"If neither of us knows Chamber's true intentions, what's the best way to figure out?"

Fade pondered for a moment and retrieved the letters from the desk.

"But I must say, this approach carries great risks. If it fails, we'll both be held accountable."

Brimstone remained silent, nodded, and watched Fade leave.

[ja-ck-ar-se]

Thinking Too Much

I’m only up to where the English TL of the novel is so this isn’t spoilers for later on or anything - just my brain working too hard in the wrong direction. Probably.

On the topic of the Immoral People needing Yoojin to gather a certain number of S ranks...

I thought according to the obv answer that maybe they want one or multiple of the kids to die so he can x2 and off the Filial Addicts and KO the Source... Then when thinking about why the White Bird took Yoohyun’s corpse, I recalled how Yoojin was told that their Source was the only one with Caregivers/Nurturers (right?). And how they seem to be getting stronger (not physically). Ch 77 of the manhwa even highlighted how normal people see born S ranks compared to Yoojin, and although his love for his brother was indeed sweet, I can’t help feeling like there was something else at play. Even if all the previous ones loved their wards as much as Yoojin and didn’t feel the slightest hint of fear, there’s also the fact that Yoohyun loved him enough to die, unlike the other S ranks with Caregivers/Nurturers, and I'm willing to bet that the kids under Yoojin are the same.

So something about their Source is different. Or changing?

The Immoral People made the system, but it has been said that they didn’t give everyone their powers. Then wouldn’t that mean God aka the Source did? And unlike the rest, it specifically created the concept of Caregivers/Nurturers? Or people with the capacity to acquire those titles?

So did it want Caregivers/Nurturers, intentionally or instinctively? Did it want them to grow? Why?

Of course, it could also be the White Bird’s interference, but something must be different about it for her to love it like so rather than worship the Sources like the Filial Addicts.

Am I thinking too much?

Either way, one of my final results is a bit... off-putting.

I’m pretty sure at this point that Chirpy is either the White Bird’s child or clone/offshoot/avatar or something, and she did uncharacteristically show up to take Yoohyun’s corpse - I take that as her trying to establish a link with Yoojin. And we know she loves their world’s Source, meaning her taking action is more than likely for it.

So... Strengthened Caregiver/Nurturer + for the Source = the Source... needs a Perfect Caregiver/Nurturer? The White Bird (and prob the Source too) plans to have Yoojin apply the keyword to the Source? 

Tell me why I felt sick after thinking this?

Why does this novel make me think so much ah

[spnhunter4life]

So Long Version 2 Chapter 6

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: If you haven't picked up the hints of it yet, I think my feelings on John are made pretty clear in this chapter. This one is angsty, but we get to see Dean and Jenna taking care of each other which is always nice.

Warnings: character death, canon typical violence

Series Masterlist

Ages 20 and 22 May 18, 2001

We unlocked the door to the abandoned factory and took off in different directions, moving quietly, guns at the ready. After searching the entire manufacturing floor, we met at the bottom of the stairs leading to the office area. Dad started up the stairs first and I followed closely. The first office we checked was empty. The second too.

The third is where we found it. Peeking through a window, we saw the wraith standing above a man who had been tied to a chair. The wraith let the spike slide free from her wrist and moved to stand behind the man. He was struggling, trying desperately to free himself as she placed the tip behind his ear. Dad kicked the door in.

There was nothing I could do but watch in horror as the wraith, startled by the noise, shoved its spike deep into the man’s brain, killing him instantly. I knew I was dreaming. This was the third time I’d seen his death tonight, my mind processing the disastrous events of the day the only way it knew how. By making me relive it in excruciating detail. 

Dad fired three times in quick succession, each silver bullet finding a home in the wraith’s chest. I ran over to the man, desperately checking for a heartbeat even though I knew I wouldn’t find one.

“Let’s take care of this,” Dad said gruffly, already dragging the body of the wraith to the middle of the room.

And then we were at the factory door again, starting the whole nightmare over. We had just met up at the bottom of the stairs when I was woken up by a fist banging on the door. I groaned and turned on the lamp on the nightstand before getting out of bed and drowsily making my way to the door. Dad had gone out to drink. He never handled it well when we weren’t able to save somebody. He’d probably forgotten or lost his key, not for the first time.

I opened the door, ready to be faced with the sight of my dad drunk out of his mind and needing help getting to bed. My breath caught at what I saw instead.

“Dean? What’s wrong?” I asked, alarmed at the sight of him.

He was there, red eyed and miserable, looking completely lost. It concerned me more than it would have if he came here covered in blood.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” he admitted, voice cracking. A tear rolled down his cheek.

“What’s wrong?” I asked again as I let him into the room, trying to remain calm despite the panic flaring in my chest. 

After shutting and locking the door, I began to look him over for any sign of injury. He looked ok apart from a mostly healed scratch on his right temple.

“Sorry to barge in on you like this,” he apologized as he wiped away another tear. He stood in the middle of the room, seeming unsure what to do with himself. “It’s just… well, like I said. I didn’t know where else to go.”

I’d only ever known him to be confident, unbreakable, ready to take on the world. I was one of the only people who ever got to see his more sensitive side, but even in his most vulnerable moments I’d never seen him this… broken. It scared me.

I grabbed his hand and pulled him with me to the couch. Seeing that he was ok physically, the next conclusion I came to was that something must be wrong with Sam or John. It couldn’t be anything too serious. If there was something really bad happening he would have told me right away so that we could fix it. He probably wouldn’t have even come to me, he would have found a closer source of help. On the other hand, if it wasn’t serious, why was he here, looking like his world was collapsing?

I’d talked to him three days ago. It was our monthly phone call, a tradition we’d kept going. Everything seemed fine then. He seemed happy enough. They were between cases, keeping their eyes out for something new. They had been in Indiana. Dad and I were in Pennsylvania, so we’d even talked about meeting somewhere in the middle once we finished our hunt. What had happened between then and now?

“If you’re not ready to talk about it, that’s fine,” I assured him even though I felt like I’d go crazy if I didn’t find out what happened. “Just at least tell me that Sam and John are ok.”

He laughed bitterly.

“That depends on how you define ‘ok.’”

My heart skipped a beat. Had I been wrong? Were things more serious than I anticipated? Were Sam and John laid up comatose in a hospital somewhere or something equally bad? I’d never been a big fan of John. I cared for him only because Sam and Dean did. I would mourn his loss only for their sake. But Sam… if something happened to him I didn’t know if I could handle it.

“What happened?” I asked again, a little more demanding this time. Dean seemed to notice the room for the first time, looking around as if searching for something.

“Where’s Ben?” he asked, noticing his absence. 

“Out. Drinking. Dean-” I tried again to get some answers, but he cut me off.

“Rough hunt?” He knew my dad wasn’t usually one to spend the night getting drunk. He only did when things went wrong.

“The guy didn’t make it,” was all I said. “What’s going on?” 

He ignored me again.

“How are you doing?” He asked, avoiding the conversation I was trying to start. Worrying about someone else was Dean’s go-to way of avoiding his own problems.

“I’m fine,” I told him, giving up on my questioning. He would talk when he was ready. He looked me over doubtfully.

“You don’t look fine,” he said.

“Gee, thanks,” I muttered, self consciously trying to smooth down my hair and noting my very wrinkled pajamas. “I see you haven’t lost your ability to flatter the ladies.”

“I just mean you look tired,” he clarified.

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when someone knocks on your door at,” I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “3 in the morning and wakes you up,” I deflected. There was no reason for him to know about the nightmare that had been playing on a loop. He couldn’t do anything about it anyway and he clearly had enough on his mind.

“Sorry,” he winced. “I shouldn’t have come. Or at the very least I should have waited until morning.”

“No, don’t apologize,” I quickly backtracked. “You can always come to me when you need to. You know that. It doesn’t matter what time it is.”

He nodded in understanding.

“Seriously, Dean. No matter the time, no matter the reason. I’m always happy to see you,” I told him, wanting to be sure he knew I meant it.

He sighed, ran a hand over his face, and turned to face me, tears shining in his eyes, threatening to spill over.

“Sam’s gone,” he said. “He left us.”

“What?” I gasped out, shocked.

“He’s going to college. Says he’s done with hunting,” he continued. I hugged him, wanting to comfort him and not knowing what else to do. He hugged me back immediately and buried his face in my shoulder.

“I can’t believe he actually did that,” I said, feeling more hurt than I had any right to. I’d barely seen Sam in the last three years. It’s not like he’d abandoned me. Somehow it still felt like he had. And I knew how unbelievably painful this would be for Dean. His appearance and behavior suddenly made sense.

“What do you mean? You knew he was planning this?” Dean asked, pulling away from me, sounding betrayed.

“No!” I assured him. “I mean, he always talked about wanting to go to college, but I thought that’s all it was. Talk. I didn’t know he was ever actually considering it.”

“Well apparently he was. Thanks for the heads up,” he snapped, standing up and starting to pace.

“Dean, I’ve barely talked to him in the last year. How was I supposed to know?” I snapped back. “Plus, you were there for all of our conversations, so you know it’s not like I was secretly planning with him.”

“You’re right,” he sighed, sitting back down. “You couldn’t have known. But he’s never in his whole life said a word to me about college. I didn’t realize that’s something he wanted. Why didn’t you tell me back then?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I figured you knew. Besides, I thought it was just a dream. I didn’t think he’d ever actually go for it,” I explained.

“Looks like neither of us know him as well as we thought we did, then,” he said, putting his head in his hands. I put my hand on his shoulder and rubbed my thumb back and forth.

“Why did he leave already?” I asked. “It’s only May. He just graduated. Literally days ago.”

“From what I could get out of him, he wasn’t planning on sticking around much longer anyway. He just… announced it, out of nowhere. That he was leaving us. And he seemed relieved.” he told me resentfully. He looked up at me then and I moved my hand away.

“I know he’s never loved hunting or the way we were raised. I know he’s always wished we were normal. But how could he leave us like that? How can he care so little about our family that he would tear it apart? Things weren’t perfect, but they weren’t that bad were they?”

“No,” I agreed. “It wasn’t bad.” 

It broke my heart to see Dean hurting this way. I desperately wanted to make it better. But I knew I couldn’t.

“What did your dad say?” I asked. Dean let out another bitter laugh.

“If you think you’ve seen my dad mad before, think again. My ears are still ringing from all the shouting. From both of them.” He paused as if remembering the argument. “He told Sam if he walked out that door he’d better never come back,” he said.

I let out a breath. I didn’t want there to be any more tension between them than there was likely to be already from the fallout with Sam. John would undoubtedly take his anger out on Dean.

“And he was ok with you coming here?” I asked. Dean straightened.

“If he’s got a problem with it, it’s his own damn fault,” he fumed. “He took off as soon as he and Sam were done screaming at each other. I waited for hours, but he never came back and wouldn’t answer my calls. He left me too.

“So I got in the car and just started driving. I didn’t even know where I was going until I was halfway here. I guess I must have known subconsciously where I wanted to go.” He took a deep, uneven breath before continuing. 

“Sometimes I feel like I care about my family more than they care about me. That I need them more than they need me,” he confided. “And it must be true. Otherwise they wouldn’t have left me.”

“Dean, no,” I told him firmly. “Don’t you ever think that. Of course they care about you and of course they need you. I don’t think they realize how much. They’re too stupid and stubborn to see how much they rely on you. Don’t let them make you feel bad about yourself. They don’t see how important you are to them. They don’t see how you’ve held your family together. But you know what I see?” I asked him, making sure he was paying attention.

“I see a man who puts the needs of his family above his own, who has done so his entire life. I see a man who cares so deeply about his family that he’d do anything for them. I see a man whose family really doesn’t deserve him.”

He was looking at me intently, face full of gratitude and pain.

“Don’t leave me,” he pleaded. “I couldn’t bear it if I lost you too.”

“John didn’t leave you,” I told him. This much I knew. John was a grade A ass, but he hadn’t left Dean for good. “He just needs a day or two to calm down. I can’t believe he was selfish enough to not even answer the phone though,” I grumbled.

“Please,” was all he said. My heart broke for him again.

“I would never leave you Dean. Never. I promise. You can stay here with me for as long as you want, and then you’re always welcome to come back. Anytime. You won’t lose me. You can’t lose me. Even if you try,” I told him with a small smile.

He smiled back before collapsing back against the couch.

“I should let you get back to sleep,” he said.

“I’m happy to stay up and talk. Or just hang out,” I told him.

“I know. But I’m actually pretty exhausted myself. I’ve been driving since yesterday afternoon,” he said.

“Okay,” I agreed. “You might as well take my dad’s bed,” I told him. “Who knows when he’ll stumble back in. And he can take the couch.”

“I’m fine on the couch,” he answered, standing up. “I’m just gonna grab my stuff out of the car.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Positive,” he said. He pulled me in for a quick hug and I felt him relax a little. He gently nudged me in the direction of my bed and left the room. 

I sat on the edge of my bed, waiting for him to come back. I relaxed when I didn’t hear the Impala’s engine roar to life. He came back in a minute later with his duffel and a small blanket I remembered being left in the car for nights they slept in there.

I laid down, getting comfortable as I watched Dean take off his layers of jackets and unlacing and taking off his boots. He laid down on the couch and sighed.

“Goodnight Jenna,” I heard him say.

“Goodnight.”

~~~~~

Apparently I wasn’t meant to be getting much sleep tonight. It took about an hour for me to settle down again and I was just on the edge of sleep when my dad stumbled through the door. Thankfully he didn’t wake Dean up – the slow, even breathing I could hear coming from the couch assured me of that – but the disturbance left me once again wide awake. 

I rolled over to look at the clock. 4:30. I sighed and restarted the process of getting to sleep, resigning myself to being very tired in the morning. I would need a lot of coffee.

~~~~~

Despite the rough night I had, I was still the first one up at 8. I wasn’t surprised my dad was still out. After the night he had, he’d probably sleep for at least a couple more hours. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised about Dean either. He’d had an emotionally exhausting couple of days. That took a lot out of a person. Coupled with his twelve hour drive here, he would need as much sleep as he could get.

As quietly as I could, I got dressed, threw my hair into a messy ponytail, and slipped out the door. I walked four blocks to a little coffee shop and bought coffee and donuts for everyone. Drink carrier and plastic bag full of donuts in hand, I slowly made my way back to the motel, enjoying the morning air.

I quietly opened the door and a quick scan of the room confirmed that both men were still sleeping. I set our breakfast on the table and sat down. As I waited for them to wake up, I sipped on my coffee and started a book I’d been wanting to read for a while. I’d barely started the second chapter when I heard Dean moving.

“Hey,” he said in a sleep-roughened voice. I looked over and saw him sitting up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Hey,” I greeted, bookmarking my place. “How’d you sleep?”

“Not bad,” he said as he got up and stretched. “You?”

“Not bad,” I echoed. “I got breakfast,” I told him.

“Aww, thanks sweetheart. You really know how to take care of a guy, don’t you?” He teased, protective humor fully in place this morning.

“Well you’re not particularly difficult to take care of,” I informed him. He laughed and headed to the bathroom. 

I opened the noisy plastic bag and took out one of the donuts while I waited for him. I wasn’t really worried about being quiet now that Dean was up. Drunk as I knew he was last night, I figured Dad would sleep through a bomb going off.

“What did you get?” Dean asked when he emerged from the bathroom and sat across from me. I just pushed the bag in his direction in response, letting him look through the variety of donuts I’d chosen. 

He picked a powdered sugar one, looked me right in the eye, and took a big bite, getting the sugar all over his mouth. I just shook my head in amusement.

“You’re like a three-year-old,” I informed him. 

“Nah. A three-year-old doesn’t know that this stuff,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee, “is where it’s at.”

I chuckled and took another bite of my own donut. We spent the rest of the morning talking, filling in details of things we didn’t have enough time to talk about over a phone call. My dad woke up around 11. I’d ended up drinking his coffee a couple hours ago, needing the caffeine boost and knowing it would be cold by the time he got to it anyway. 

He gave Dean a cursory greeting, not even bothering to ask about the surprise visit. After taking a quick shower, he left to do who knows what. He didn’t give an explanation.

I was still sad about the news Dean had brought last night. I couldn’t imagine how hard he must be trying to cover his pain right now. But I was also happy, so incredibly happy, to have Dean here with me. In the same room. It happened so rarely these days that I never failed to appreciate it in the moment. I secretly dreamed about a day when we could be together every day again.

For now I’d content myself with the time I did get with him. I wondered how long it would be this time.

~~~~~

Turns out, it wasn’t very long. Dean and I had gone out for lunch, reminiscing about some of the sketchy looking places we’d eaten in over the years. We were just getting back to the motel when John called. And he was mad.

From across the room I could hear the angry tone of voice coming through the phone speaker. I could only hear Dean’s side of the conversation, but it was enough to piece together what was going on. John had finally gotten over his fit of anger and come back to the motel to find Dean gone. Dean mostly stood there and took the verbal beating. Only once did he try to defend his actions.

“You left. You just took off. And you wouldn’t answer the phone.”

I couldn’t hear John’s response, but I could take a pretty good guess as to what it was. He would say something about how Dean should have known better than to take off. He should have stayed put and waited for John to get back. Like a dog, sitting at home, waiting for its master’s next command.

Dean’s posture changed, any thoughts about arguing gone. He was back to being that good little soldier, ‘Yes sir,’ or ‘No, sir,’ the only words escaping his mouth.

There were few things in this world that made me as mad as John’s treatment of his eldest son. I wanted to snatch the phone from Dean’s hands and yell at John for throwing a temper tantrum. For abandoning Dean in that heartbreaking moment and leaving him behind, the exact same thing he was mad at Sam for doing to him. I wanted to tell him if he was going to behave like a child and treat Dean like a broken toy, then he didn’t deserve to get him back. 

I didn’t say any of this though. I clenched my hands into fists at my side, gritted my teeth together, and kept my mouth shut. 

Dean hung up the phone and immediately went to grab his bag.

“You’re leaving?” I asked, unwilling to let him go so soon. Not wanting to let him go at all.

“I have to. Dad needs me.”

I scoffed.

“Don’t start with that Jenna,” he said tersely. “You wouldn’t abandon your dad. Why would you expect me to abandon mine?”

“Yeah, well my dad wouldn’t abandon me. Tell me again what John did just a couple days ago.”

“He didn’t abandon me. He just needed to cool off. Like you said. And I’m sorry, but where exactly is your dad right now?” He snapped.

“That’s not even close to the same thing and you know it.”

“How is it any different?” He asked.

“First of all, my dad didn’t just up and leave me behind because he was angry. He’s out trying to deal with what happened last night.”

“And my dad wasn’t trying to deal?” He challenged.

“Your dad left you behind!” I shouted. I was mad at John, not him, but I was also frustrated that he couldn’t see how terribly John treated him.

“My dad would pick up the phone if I called him right now. And he wouldn’t have left at all, except you’re here and he’s trying to give us some time alone.” I told him.

Dean opened the door and stepped into the parking lot, walking around to the trunk of his car.

“Dean, stop.”

“I have to go, Jenna. It doesn’t matter if you don’t agree because it’s not your decision,” he said as he threw his duffel in.

“I know,” I said placatingly. “But can you just stop for a minute?”

He closed the trunk and looked at me expectantly.

“I don’t want to fight,” I told him.

I saw the anger leave him. That quickly. And I realized his anger hadn’t been at me either. He was probably just overwhelmed.

“Neither do I,” he agreed. He sighed and wrapped me in a hug.

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” I said sadly. 

“I know. I’m sorry,” he said, squeezing me once before letting me go. Then I thought about the reason he was even here.

“You want me to drive to Cali and whoop Sam for you?” I asked teasingly, hoping that making it into a joke was the right call. 

“Thanks, but no. All I ever wanted was to protect him. And when we were kids I wished so badly that he could have a normal life. That he didn’t have to be caught up in all this hunting crap.” He smiled ruefully. “Be careful what you wish for, I guess.”

I didn’t know what to say in response. I’d undoubtedly come up with a good reply later and kick myself for not thinking of it now. So I settled for the best thing I could think of.

“Call me when you get there.”

“I will,” he assured me. Then he climbed into the passenger seat and drove away.

Ages 21 and 22 December 29, 2001

Dad and I were currently in Chicago, working a case we suspected to be ghouls. Three different mausoleums had been disturbed in two different cemeteries. Whoever had broken into these places hadn’t stolen any of the valuable items inside, but had opened up the caskets. And then the bodies. And they’d eaten them.

It was late afternoon and we were going over the information we’d gathered over the past few days, working on narrowing down the location these things might be hiding in when I heard the rumble of a familiar engine. My focus, which had been tenuous at best at the anticipation of this moment, flew out the window.

John was taking a few ‘personal days,’ whatever that meant, so Dean was coming to stay with us for a few days. I wished we weren’t working so we could just spend time together, but I was excited to see him either way.

I jumped out of my chair so quickly it would have fallen over if my dad hadn’t caught it. I stood at the door, waiting for him to knock before opening it. I didn’t want to seem too eager or like I’d been watching for his arrival. Which I hadn’t been, despite how much I wanted to. The curtains had remained closed in order to discourage looking out the window and not focusing on the case. It’s not my fault his car was so loud.

The thirty seconds or so it undoubtedly took for him to grab his bag and walk to the door felt like an eternity. Finally, there was a knock. I quickly unlocked the door and threw it open, huge smile on my face as I hugged him.

Dean seemed a little startled at how quickly I threw myself at him – so much for not seeming eager – but didn’t hesitate to hug me back.

“Hey, sweetheart. I missed you too,” he mumbled so only I could hear.

“Alright, give the man some room to breathe,” my dad teased.

I wasn’t even close to ready to be done hugging him. We hadn’t seen each other since the night he told me about Sam going to college, and I missed him so much. Not that that was a feeling I was unfamiliar with, but being away from him was getting harder. I let him go and took a step back, giving him space.

“How’re you doing, son?” My dad asked him, placing an affectionate hand on his shoulder.

“I’m good, Ben. Thanks for letting me crash with you,” Dean said, moving to the couch to set his bag down.

“Of course. We’re always happy to see you,” he assured Dean. “We’re still working on a case right now. You’re welcome to join in if you want, but if you’d rather take a few days off, that’s no problem.”

“I’m happy to help, sir,” Dean said, unsurprisingly. 

“Great!” Dad said, smiling warmly at the younger man. “We’re trying to track down some ghouls. We were just working on figuring out where they might be hiding,” he said, walking to the table. Dean followed.

“So far, we’ve narrowed it down to-” My dad’s phone rang, cutting him off. He fished it out of his pocket.

“Hello?” He answered, business voice in place.

“Where?” He asked. Then, after a brief pause, “I’ll be right there.” 

He put the phone back in his pocket and looked at me and Dean.

“They just found another grave that’s been opened up. I’m going to go check it out. You two keep working here,” he instructed.

“Where was this one at?” I asked.

“Same cemetery as the last one,” he said as he shrugged his coat on.

“So that makes two at each cemetery,” I commented. 

“Right. So let’s get on top of this before there’s another one,” he said, closing the door behind him. I heard his truck’s engine sputter to life, and then it was just me and Dean.

“Which two cemeteries have been hit?” Dean asked, in full hunter mode. I fondly rolled my eyes at him, but answered his question. The sooner we finished this hunt, the sooner we could just relax together. I listed the two cemeteries, pointing to their locations on the map we had rolled out on the table.

“They’re probably hiding out somewhere in between the two,” Dean said.

“Yeah, that was our thought too. We were just working on narrowing down the most likely locations,” I told him. 

Working with Dean was comfortable. We easily fell back into our old rhythm of working together as we analyzed and theorized. When Dad came back an hour later we were feeling pretty confident that we’d found the two most likely places.

“Good work,” he praised when we told him what we’d come up with. “Let’s go grab something to eat and then we’ll go check them both out.”

“We can go check them out first,” I suggested, wanting to finish this case as soon as possible.

“Food first,” Dad said. “There’s no reason to be hunting on an empty stomach when we’ve got time. Based on their pattern, they won’t hit another grave for a few more days, and they won’t leave their little nest until then.”

We piled into my dad’s little truck, me squished in the middle seat between the two men, and drove to a nearby diner.

We chatted as we ate. Dad mostly listened, letting Dean and me do most of the talking, but joining in every now and then with a comment or question. It was nice. It was the happiest I’d been in a long time. I looked forward to the next few days of this.

~~~~~

We were back at the motel, readying weapons and just about to drive to the first location Dean and I suspected of being their hide out when Dad’s phone rang.

“Hello?” He said. He listened to the voice on the other line, frown growing on his face. “I’m on my way,” he said, hanging up the phone. 

“Change of plans,” he told us. “Jenna, I guess you were right. We shouldn’t have stopped to eat first. That was the groundskeeper at the second cemetery.”

“There was another one?” I asked. “Already?”

“Apparently,” he said, climbing into his truck. “I’m going to go check it out, see if I can catch a trail. You two go check out that abandoned church like we planned. Be careful,” he warned.

“And Dean?” He added, almost as an afterthought. “Take care of my girl.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean answered without hesitation. Satisfied with his response, Dad backed out of the parking lot and drove away. 

Dean put his shotgun in the trunk of his car and I threw mine in alongside it. He closed the trunk and slid into the driver’s seat as I got into the passenger side.

“It’s weird that they’re breaking pattern like this,” Dean mused as we pulled up to the old church. There was a crypt below it. The perfect place for a monster that fed on the dead to hole up.

“Yeah, I thought so too. Let’s just hope that it gives us another lead if neither of these places end up being right,” I said.

We made our way into the crypt, Dean going first. It didn’t take long to realize we were in the right place. The remains of chewed on corpses littered the ground. Coffins that were decades old had been opened to make room for the bones of bodies the ghouls had dragged back here to feed on. I wrinkled my nose at the smell.

We made our way through the place carefully, guns at the ready. In a small room in the back we found three old mattresses laid out beside each other. 

I heard a noise behind me and spun around just in time for one of the ghouls to reach me and knock the gun out of my hand. Before he could do anything more, I punched him in the nose. I used the half second it took him to recover to aim a kick straight at his stomach, sending him stumbling back a few steps.

“Get down!” I heard Dean call from behind me. I dropped to the floor and heard the gunshot behind me. The ghoul went down, head blown to pieces. I quickly grabbed my gun off the floor and stood beside Dean, aiming at the doorway, ready for the other two to come.

“Where are they?” Dean hissed after a couple of minutes. 

“Maybe they haven’t gotten back yet,” I said. 

“What?” he asked, agitated at not knowing where the threat was.

“Maybe the other two went out to the cemetery and this one was left behind to guard the place or something. They might be on their way right now. Maybe we should find some place to hide and wait for them to get back. Ambush them,” I suggested.

Dean considered the idea, weighing our options. Then he stiffened. 

“We need to go. Right now,” he said as he hurried from the room.

“What? Why?” I asked as I followed him.

“Why would they leave one behind to guard the place? They shouldn’t have any reason to worry about someone stumbling in. And even if someone did, they wouldn’t find anything they’d consider suspicious,” he said.

“So they knew we were onto them and left one behind to kill us if we found them. It was a trap,” I concluded, catching onto his thought.

“No Jenna,” Dean said. We made it out of the church and ran for the car. “There’s strength in numbers. Why would they send two out to a place they would be long gone from by the time we heard about them and leave one behind to take on a group of hunters alone? It was a trap. But the trap wasn’t for us.”

“It was for my dad,” I said in horror. We reached the car and Dean had the Impala screeching away the second the doors were closed.

“They found out about you guys somehow, so they dug up another body, probably somewhere they knew it would be found quickly, and then sat back and waited,” he continued piecing things together. He hit the steering wheel in frustration. “I knew something was up when they changed their pattern,” he seethed.

I got my phone out of my pocket and dialed my dad’s number. He didn’t pick up.

“Drive faster,” I urged, the dread I was feeling building.

When we made it to the cemetery we jumped out and split up. Dean had wanted to stay together, but I argued that we’d cover ground faster apart. My dad’s life was in danger, and I wasn’t going to waste time.

I ran through the cemetery, keeping my eyes open for any recently dug up graves – they would be particularly easy to spot with the layer of snow on the ground – or open mausoleums. I was about halfway through when I noticed one of them had a door cracked open. I made my way over as quickly and quietly as I could. 

I probably should have taken my time, assessed the situation and gathered as much information about what I was about to walk into as I could. I should have. But I didn’t. I kicked the door open the rest of the way and took in the details as quickly as I could.

There were two people in the middle of the room, standing over a dead body. It was fresh, partially eaten. It was the cemetery groundskeeper. And his face was staring back at me from one of the two men above him. The ghouls. They both lunged for me. I had my gun already aimed and fired at the closer one. His headless body collapsed to the ground.

“Jenna!” I heard Dean call, alerted by the gunshot.

Realizing he was outnumbered, the third one bolted out of the building. I was about to go after him when I noticed the other person, sitting against the wall across from the dead body. Dad.

“Jenna!” Dean called again when I didn’t answer him. His voice was much closer now.

“I’m fine, Dean!” I yelled back, willing it to be true. Willing my dad to be ok. “Go get him!” 

I rushed over to Dad, gasping at what I saw and choking back tears. 

“Dad!” I cried out. There was a knife in his chest. And he was in a pool of blood, not so much sitting as being held up by the wall.

“Jenna,” he rasped out. I grabbed his arm and put it around my shoulder, trying to help him stand. He gasped in pain and sagged against me. I let him go, not wanting to make things worse.

“It’s ok. It’s going to be ok,” I said through my tears, trying to assure myself more than him. “We’re going to get you out of here. As soon as Dean gets here we’ll get you in the car and to a hospital.”

“Stay with Dean,” he said.

“Dean’s fine. He’ll take care of the last one. I’m not leaving you,” I told him.

“Stay with him,” he repeated, reaching for me. I grabbed his hand. “You’ve been… so sad without him,” he breathed. I could tell talking was difficult for him.

“Shh,” I ordered. “It’s ok.”

“No, listen,” he said. “You shouldn’t have to live… without him. You should… be with your soulmate.” I gasped at his statement.

“You knew?” I asked.

“I’ve suspected for a long time,” he confessed. “Since before you even turned 16. He’s… a good man. And I want you to know… for what it’s worth… that I would be proud to have him… as a son.” There was blood coming out of the corner of his mouth now.

Hurry up Dean! I mentally urged.

“That doesn’t matter,” I told him, trying to get back on track. “We’ll get you help. Everything will go back to normal.” I heard the gunshot then.

“I love you Jenna,” he told me. “Be happy.”

“Dean!” I screamed, and then in a quieter voice, “Dean’s coming now Dad. Just hold on.” His breathing was getting more strained.

Dean came crashing through the door then, gun held at the ready. His eyes zeroed in on us and he lowered his gun, coming to my side.

“Help me get him to the car,” I told him.

“No,” Dad protested.

“I’m not just going to leave you here to die, Ben,” Dean said as he bent to grab him under the shoulders. “Grab his legs,” he instructed me. With the knife buried in Dad’s chest, Dean wasn’t able to swing him over his shoulder.

“Stop!” Dad gritted out, gasping in pain as our attempts to move him jostled the knife.

“What do we do?!” I wailed as we reluctantly set him back down.

“There’s nothing you can do,” Dad breathed out. “Remember… what I told you,” he said to me. “Be happy.” Then he turned to Dean. 

“Take care of my girl,” he said to Dean for the second time tonight. Only this time his meaning was very different.

“I will,” Dean assured him, realizing we were running out of time. I realized too.

“I love you,” I sobbed out as I hugged him as tightly as I could. I felt his hand smoothing over my hair once. Twice. Then it fell to the floor beside him.

~~~~~

I didn’t know how long it had taken him to convince me to leave the cemetery that night. He’d sat with me for a long while before he left to take care of the bodies of the two ghouls. 

“Jenna,” he said gently a few hours later. “I know you don’t want to hear this, and I don’t want to be the one to say it. But we have to get out of here. We have to…”

“We have to burn his body,” I said numbly, finishing his trailed off sentence.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said. I knew he was right though.

Dean carefully carried my dad’s body over to the Impala, laying him on a blanket in the backseat.

“Are you ok to drive?” he asked me. “We’re going to need to get your dad’s truck out of here too.”

“No,” I said.

“Ok, no problem. I’ll take care of it later then,” he assured me.

“No, I mean I don’t want it,” I told him. “We have to burn the body anyway, right?” I asked rhetorically. “So let’s just do it in the truck. That way at least we don’t have to spend the rest of the night building a pyre.”

Dean hesitated a little before answering. 

“Are you sure, Jenna?” 

“I’m sure,” I told him. I didn’t want to keep that truck. I didn’t ever want to see it again. It would just be a constant reminder of what I’d lost tonight.

We drove to an open field a few miles outside the city, Dean in the Impala, me in my dad’s truck. I watched stone-faced, all cried out for now, as Dean transferred Dad’s body from the Impala to the truck and then covered them in gasoline and salt. I watched as he lit the match. And I said goodbye to my dad for the last time.

~~~~~

I’d spent the last three days laying in bed, crying until I couldn’t anymore. Dean stayed with me the whole time, sitting beside me, holding me, his presence a silent comfort. One that I couldn’t appreciate right now. I felt hollow inside.

He did his best to encourage me to eat and drink. I made myself drink a little each day, but I couldn’t eat. 

John called Dean on the fourth day, wanting Dean to meet him in Arizona. Dean told him no. He said he wasn’t going to leave me alone and that John could do the job alone or find someone else to help. It was only the second time I’d ever heard Dean openly defy John. And that’s when I realized how concerned he was. So I decided it was time to move on. 

I started eating again and made an effort to talk and make jokes. He seemed relieved to see me doing better. 

On the fifth day, I told him he needed to go back to John.

“I’m not leaving you alone. I’m going to stay with you as long as you need. Dad will be fine on his own for a while. We’ll meet up with him when you’re ready,” he told me.

“I need some time, Dean. I don’t know how much. But I’m not going to ask you to leave your dad on his own. I’ll go stay with Bobby for a while. I’ll be fine,” I said.

Dean wasn’t thrilled about the idea, but after a little bit of convincing, he finally agreed.

“Let me know if you need anything,” he said when he pulled up at Bobby’s, reluctant to leave me. “I promised your dad I would take care of you. I intend to keep that promise,” he told me.

I just smiled as I grabbed my bag from the back seat. 

“Thanks for everything Dean. I’ll see you later,” I told him. Then I walked to the house, not giving him a chance to answer. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep from crying if I had to watch him drive away.

As I climbed the porch stairs, I remembered my dad’s last words to me. Be happy. Maybe I’d see about meeting up with Dean and John soon. Once I’d had time to process and was ready to start hunting again.

Chapter 7

[beloved-daydreams]

Folktober2023 Prompt: "Graveyard meet-cute" 🪦🥰

An attempt by

Hosted by @jurdannetrevels and @jurdannet

📘 1 800+ words

😎 Characters: Taryn, TheGhost/Larkin, Myriadh

✒️ Tags: unexpected, terrible flirting, banter(?)

📢 Summary: The Ghost has appeared out of thin air, an entrance truly worthy of his codename. And for no tangible reason, he sticks to Taryn until she realizes the outrageous truth: this insane man is trying to flirt with a pregnant and widowed woman!

🧐 Author’s note: Third and last part is here! First part was for "Corn maze" and the 2nd one for "My sister, the serial killer." Hope it’ll be fun to read as much as it was fun for me to write!

✏️✏️✏️

"Hey, paying a visit to your sister?" Larkin smiles, a smile that looks tense to me, though it doesn't make sense. Why would he be tense?

"Something like that, I suppose so, yes." I try to tell him plainly but it comes out as clumsy.

We stare at each other for a bit. It doesn't seem like he wants to let go of me right away, he keeps looking at Myriadh as if she's a bother. Does he have something important to tell me? Could it be about the reason why Jude left today? Though I can't imagine it must be too serious since we're surrounded by all the flowers of the corpses she has gathered. Nonetheless, I got the hint so the natural thing to do is to act accordingly.

"It's alright Myr, I know him. Please leave us."

"How far away, my liege?"

I point at the daffodils in the distance, far enough for her to see us but not hear us. She nods and steps away politely. Once she has reached the spot I directed her at, I start.

"So, what is it that you wanted to tell me?"

Larkin smiles at me curiously, as though he has no idea what I mean by that.

"I just think it's better to have some privacy even for small talk, don't you think?"

I sigh, planting my hand onto my face.

"Really? You made me send Myr away just for some small talk?"

He brings his hand to his nape, scratching it pointlessly. A gesture that shows he's uncomfortable about something. It doesn't serve as anything else than a sign of his groundless nervousness since I cannot imagine the nape is a spot that can often get itchy.

"Well, isn't she more of a chaperone given to you by your sister rather than a proper attendant? I bet she reports your every move to Her Highness."

So annoying. So what? What does it even have to do with him? I'm pregnant and weak, I'm not doing anything of note lately anyway. Even if that were true, if Myriadh is sending reports to Jude, it would only show that Jude's worried about my well-being since I visit so rarely. That's all.

"It doesn't concern you. And even if your guess is true, all it tells me is that Jude cares for me."

"Then you must be glad. I mean, that you betrayed her and she forgave you." A haughty smile. Almost a sneer. His words ring true but his voice has a human quality to it. Now this is definitely sarcasm.

"Well, I suppose you must be relieved as well. Since your friends and my sister forgave you after you blew up their base and dragged Jude to rot in the Undersea."

His face drops. I've managed to completely wipe his smile off of his face with my cruel retort. Larkin has gone red, embarrassed. Not sure if he had gone too far and I was genuinely pissed or if I'm playing him as payback, he stares silently at the ground next to my feet.

"Relax. I guess this just proves we're both pretty terrible. No need to feel so bad."

Or at least that's what I like to say to convince myself.

Larkin's gaze goes up to my face again but he's still a bit shaken, or rather he's thinking about being more careful with his words from now on. Seeing him like that satisfies me, I can't help it. Still, I suppose I should lend him a hand.

"Are we just going to stand there? Since you've already made me lose time I'll take this as an opportunity to walk around some more."

His eyes light up a bit. It's funny, back when I first met him, I hated the way he looked. Despite being half-fae his genes are much "heavier" on the human side. Yet having a better look at him now, he possesses a sort of tranquil beauty to him. Something serene that I don't possess. He feels familiar yet otherworldly at the same time, how contradictory.

"Is something wrong?"

I immediately shift my gaze to the side, pretending that I was looking past him and not at him.

"Nothing, I hope that didn't make you uncomfortable. I didn't mean to."

His lips press together, I recognize that mannerism. He's trying to hold back a smile. Why? What's so funny?

"So that attendant," He starts, weighing his words. "Myr, was it?"

"Oh no, her name is actually Myriadh but I call her Myr."

"Are you two so close already?" He looks a bit baffled. As if I've just told him that I'm nicknaming a complete stranger. I shrug.

"Not really, but I appreciate her. Also, calling someone by a nickname gives them a sense of familiarity, don't you think? I'd like us to have a good relationship."

Larkin stares off towards Myriadh with a strange look. Then I notice him slightly fiddling with his cuffs before stopping as soon as he notices what he's doing. Then he almost shyly shoots me a glance.

"If I were your servant, what would you call me?"

I blink a few times at him. Not sure why he'd like to know. Is that his roundabout way of asking me if he can come work for me? Is that it? Nonetheless I entertain the thought.

Larkin. Honestly, I don't find it to be a pretty name. Then again, I never liked mine either so who am I to judge, really? I try to compose a wholesome nickname based on some not so good source material. Larky sounds too silly. Lar is kinda ugly. Lala is too cute and doesn’t fit him.

"...Larlar? You don't have an easy name to work with."

It's still so bad yet he smiles wholesomely nonetheless.

"Hmm. I guess it's the best you could do with what I have, yeah."

"Well, you could also be Boo." I regret the words as soon as they escape my mouth. Larkin stares at me, eyes wide.

"Boo?"

"Like, you know. The Ghost. Boo. Like how ghosts go boo when they try to scare someone off…" I blush at my stupid idea and even more idiotic reasoning. Yet he laughs this time.

"I'm worried about your child, do you already have a name in mind?" He throws at me.

"Excuse me?! I do have some ideas and they're all good, mind you."

"Hmm, I'm not so sure about that. Are you certain you don't need someone's help to name them?"

Larkin swiftly plucks out a marigold and puts it in my hair, I jolt. Not because of the contact, but because of the sudden realization of what he was actually trying to achieve this whole time. This crazy man wanted to flirt with me! Not to mention in a graveyard at that.

I make my eyes big at him, giving him a somewhat scolding look.

"Are you trying to flirt with a pregnant widowed woman?! You're insane… also, your attempt is extremely poor and lacking in manners."

"Well, considering you murdered the husband in question, I don't believe you must be so sad about being widowed. Plus, I think a half-faerie child would be way happier with a half-faerie father like them instead of the unbearable prick Locke was."

I can't hold my laughter at the utter audacity of that statement. It is refreshing though. Larkin is one of the few folks aware of what truly happened. Because of that, I mostly get pity and attempts at kind and reassuring words. Rarely ever confirmation of what I thought of Locke in a closed-off part of my heart.

I dig into my brain. What is the appropriate response here? What would be the correct way to act? There just isn't and I already blew it off by laughing anyway. So I just play along.

"Alright. Well, I'm thinking of redecorating the unbearable prick’s castle grounds. I'll get rid of the maze and replace it with a pretty garden. If you help me, I'll indulge your ridiculously scandalous thought of courting me. Or whatever it is you were foolishly thinking."

Larkin gets down on one knee, takes my gloved hand, and before kissing it, he has the gall of removing the glove for direct contact. I think his strange affection towards me might secretly be quite worrisome. But well, I can’t deny the fact that I'd rather raise a child with a husband at my side than to raise them alone. He gets up and instead of giving me the glove back, he shoves it into his pocket.

"As proof of your promise." He says.

"That's usually for a promised duel, not a run of the mill promise." I correct him.

"Well, then let's see if your composure is sturdier than my advances. That will be the duel."

I furrow my eyebrows.

"I feel like you're going to be extremely persistent and possibly annoying. Don't make me regret it."

"You won't." He puts his hood back on and as he's about to do the same with his mask in order to disappear into the darkness, he adds: "You didn't have to pretend earlier, by the way. I like the attention." I can feel my chest get hot as he snickers before leaving. I guess I should've known, no matter how clumsy he was with me, he's still an assassin. Of course he'd notice that I was checking him out.

And as soon as he leaves, Myriadh hurries over to my side, asking me if everything's alright. All I can note to her of that interaction with him, is that this guy is going to be trouble. Well, for me that is.

We then march towards the carriage to leave, truly this time, I remember that just before Larkin appeared, Myriadh was about to tell me something. I urge her to continue which makes her smile kindly at me.

"I just wanted to tell you that personally, I find you lovely in the mornings, my liege. Especially the rare days when you have had a good sleep, I can immediately tell by the tangles in your hair, which are equally as lovely as your sleepy face."

I blush.

I suppose that I'm still way too guarded with Myriadh despite what I told Larkin about wanting to get along with her. That's often what I do, I get along but I don't get close. Maybe I should once in a while.

"Myr. From now on, if I'm having trouble sleeping, would you sing me your lullaby?"

Her eyes widen slightly at that but she answers me rapidly and calmly as always.

"Absolutely. I'm honored that you're willing to give me such trust, my liege."

The next day, by the time the sun had set, the maze had been wiped off and somehow, miraculously, some marigolds were already blooming in the empty space.

✏️✏️✏️

It was very fun to imagine how Taryn and The Ghost might act around eachother although I can imagine that I was most likely COMPLETELY off-base here.

This is probably the last piece of writing I’ll post for Folktober2023 unfortunately, but HEY I still wrote for 9 days out of 13! And it was my first time in trying to participate to something like this. Who knows though, if I get hit with inspiration I might write for the other days later.

Pleaseeeee leave some comments/tags for ya girl 🥺

[sxintl]

2022.10.01 SNH48 Team X “Xiaoyi” Yang Bingyi Birthday Stage | Duan Yixuan’s letter to Yang Bingyi

To my dear Shuibaobao,

I honestly didn't know how to write this letter, I've amended it so many times with so many versions written, I was afraid, I was afraid that it's not that good.

We've walked through so much time, been together for so long, and been through so much together, though it seems like the older we get, the more we're worried about.

For once I felt like I might not be able to write anything so I thought simply making you happy would be enough.

Preparing for a birthday stage is an irritating and tiring thing, I don't know if this is Chip or Dale, either way, right now it's Xuanxuan Didi, right, a cheap substitute.

Y: High-end version!

I wanted to make you feel a bit more relaxed.

I've always felt like you're a child I watched growing up, but at the same time, while I watched you grow, it's like you were watching me grow as well. We saw the changes in each other's personalities, hobbies, habits, and mentality along the way.

We were like people running around a misty magical forest barefooted while chasing after and searching for the light, we were also running away from the damages the twigs and vines coming after us would bring. It was like some kind of quest, some kind of adventure, it was also like some kind of escape. In the course of running, we've accepted growth, change, and lots and lots of partings that happened naturally. I'm just really glad that, the "us" that I met the moment I stepped into this piece of forest, the "us" that is still working hard and struggling through the mist, has never let go of each other's hands that were tightly held together, we did not lose ourselves.

And I've always thought that I know you very well, and therefore, I'll instinctively think that there shouldn't be anyone-- that no one should, or that no one can know you better than I do.

Then one day I was talking about you with someone, I started talking about your hobbies very surely, and then they challenged me saying "hmm, maybe she doesn't think so now." If it were from before I would definitely refute it, but that day I didn't dare to, because I was afraid that someone else would know the current you more than I do.

This is me giving you hints.

Y: There she goes again.

When I just came to Shanghai, you read me the letter you wrote for me whimpering, you said with that we get to meet more often. And after that you did come to find me more often, there wasn't anything special, nothing that we had to specifically talk about, just snuggling up on my tiny sofa, we'd talk if there was anything to talk about, if not, we'd be on our own phones, then I'd fall asleep while playing on my phone. And when I woke up, you'd tell me seeing Whiskey and me sleeping side by side was very healing. When you leave, you'd suddenly say "hugs", and I'd say "oh? You're leaving?"

And when you started raising Yang Jinjin, I felt a strong sense of crisis for our Pudding. Because I was actually afraid that if our Pudding had lost the one thing that temps you, I was afraid that you wouldn't come to find me that often anymore. However- Or rather, afraid that every time you want to come to find me and Pudding you'd be held back by Yang Jinjin's temptation, so I tried to change him. What I didn't expect is that he's super good and listens to orders well in your room, every time you bring him over, he'll turn into the fiercest kitten in the world when he sees Pudding.

He can't stand him.

Y: I must defend our Yang Jinjin, our Yang Jinjin is a scaredy cat.

D: Alright, you don't have to say more. Yes, he is a scaredy cat. But he scares Pudding into looking more like a scaredy cat every time.

Y: Because he's- whatever, it's our Yang Jinjin who's too fierce.

D: It's okay, I can understand him.

You used to say there's a lot of people who come to my room, but whenever you come to find me, I feel really happy and relieved.

Our Bingbing also has a lot of friends, every time when you accompanied me through the long corridor, walking in the same direction, and yet when you had to say goodbye in the end, the sound of my door closing would be a bit louder, were you not aware of that?

Everyone in the centre knew how good of a cook I am during lockdown.

Y: That's exactly because everyone in the centre knows!

D: Listen to me!

But then I'd hear you talk to others saying things like "oh, our ingredients", “who's gonna do our dishes?" I really wanted you to spit out the curry rice I made for you.

Every time I heard you in the room opposite to mine I'd intentionally send you a message asking, "are you over there?" and you'd reply immediately saying "you even know that?"

Yeah, I am giving you hints, but I know that it's mainly my problem because this is my reflection, after giving you hints, I mean, I should reflect on myself, after all, it goes both ways, there's no way that only one person's at fault, and two people can't be… right? It's not a mistake, because I don't think my problem is a mistake, nor yours is a mistake, it's just habits.

Just that I think my problem's a bit worse, maybe I'm not that enthusiastic about a lot of things or anything fun in life, and, indeed, I don't like to play with anything, and maybe I'm not that interested in many things, even so, you still have to think of me and invite me, even if I've rejected you.

Because, because there's a possibility that I just didn't want to go with you guys today, like you guys were playing over there and I saw that a lot of you all were playing together already, and I'd feel that "you guys are already enjoying yourselves, and I'm really tired," and I'd want to sleep. But I might not be that sleepy on the next day, and you guys are still having fun then I'll wait for an invitation.

Right, so maybe, you'll still have to think about inviting me. Because there are things that may be no fun to me, but if I'm doing it with you, I feel like I'll still be quite happy.

YYDS is the name of your birthday stage last year, but to me, you've always been the embodiment of that, it's another nickname of yours.

As expected from my senior, you're super reliable even at a young age. When I broke down because of the problems that arose during the rehearsals for my birthday stage, you would communicate with the staff about the problems, you would help me choose that "ding" bell, you would help me check the props and see if they were suitable, you would help me film the videos, and you would help me hide in the corner of the stage to control the lights.

I could not be more thankful back then, and I thought I had to return this and be reliable too. But then who knew you would be this amazing, while I was still dazed from being busy with everything, you were almost done with your birthday stage, I still haven't had the chance to be that reliable person for you, and you've already done it yourself.

Leave me some chances to fulfil myself next time. When there are things that you're too tired to handle, you can tell me, I'll help you.

All of your stages today were prepared using time squeezed out in between your intense work schedule. And actually I've been watching the live, unfortunately, every time I entered the stream it was always during scene changes, I don't know why.

Then there was this one time a song played, I said "wow it's finally here", and Zuo Jingyuan said, "what is it?" I said, "I don't know, a song is playing anyway." I think it's because I'm just happy to see it. Because during your rehearsals, I actually didn't watch it. But when I saw it, I thought that you can squeeze out so many amazing and spectacular performances under an intense work schedule is just "wow", right?

And I thought that small, skinny and fresh Shuibaobao little senior has grown bit by bit on this stage, turning into a beautiful star. For some reason, I felt the gratitude of a mother. I know that the growth came from bits and bits of hardships, so you must take care of yourself well too. I'm already drinking lots and lots of water every day, you should try to replace a can of coke with water each day.

Just one can, not a lot, just one.

Y: Okay~

Let's take good care of ourselves and live longer, as in until the day our hair turns grey and all of our teeth have fallen, I'll still be asking you "hey, is this wrinkle not pretty enough?"

And maybe it's just me, maybe the longer you live, the more you'll think about the future, you know that I'm always worried about you, but every time you tell me seriously that you feel happy doing what you're doing, I think you who started the journey towards your dream at a young age are really impressive, still, I hope that you can worry about it more, you get me?

Then as a mother, every time I hear you say that I do get a bit nervous, but I'd also sincerely feel how great that is. To purely like something, to purely be satisfied by something, I wish those blinking eyes, the child with light shining in her eyes, would continue to feel happy from what makes you happy.

And, the sudden isolation, and the busy schedule, made us seem to have missed out a lot unknowingly. But that's fine, we can still have the sweet osmanthus in October, the snow in December, the waves in the coming May, and with the spring blossom that we missed, I believe that our remaining time will make up for the romance and happiness that we have missed.

Where should we start? I don't know, but I know where you want to go, I even secretly Googled if there's sweet osmanthus in Xishuangbanna, but I don't think it matters whether they have it or not because I've secretly booked a villa with a pool, we can play in the pool together.

Y: I'll also give you some hints at night.

Love you~

Y: Actually, I feel like this year… how should I put it. As you know, it seems like a lot has happened, and as you said, the longer we've spent together, more things would've happened, the more we've experienced together, and it's true that there are more concerns. But what I believe has never changed is no matter what the others ask me, my answer is always you.

D: You are also my best friend.

Y: So don't you worry.

[moonlight-prose]

first you flirt with layla and end up kissing her- which ends up making marc jealous in return. he spends days moping about and starts making snarky comments to hide his jealousy (he’s not so great at hiding it)

then you kiss steven, who can’t stop thinking about it for the next couple of days. filling his and marc’s head with thoughts about you

eventually marc ends up drunk at your front door crying about being the only one being left out (he’ll deny he cried about it)

KISS ME, KISS ME, KISS ME

a/n: this drabble was MEANT to be super short and small, but i ramble so here we go my darling. i hope you enjoy!

word count: 1556 (don't look at me)

pairing: layla el-faouly x reader, steven grant x reader, marc spector x reader

warnings: kissing, more kissing, and some spit kink (again really don't look at me)

The first time you kiss Layla it’s soft. Softer than you imagined it would be—a direct opposite to what you usually get when kissing other people. She doesn’t swiftly grasp for you; doesn’t bite down harshly on your lip to remind you who exactly was in charge. No, it’s tender, gentle and by all means reverent. She leads you into a dance of subtle hints and sweet smiles, until you feel a dizzying high that’s so different from anything you’ve experienced before.

Before you even notice it, she’s licking slowly into your mouth—tongue pressing against yours and you swear you can taste that coffee she always orders in the morning. Her hand is buried in your hair—not enough to hurt—just enough for you to clasp onto. A reminder that this wasn’t Marc or Steven…this was her.

She pulls away, eyes fluttering open to take in your almost intoxicated expression. That sight alone draws her lips up in a smile—not quite a smirk, but you can see it beneath the surface. She likes the way you look. As if you’d bend to her will with yet another kiss and the truth of the matter was…you would.

“Fuck,” you whisper, eyes hazy as your mind came up with scenario after scenario.

“You’re so pretty,” she murmurs. Sliding her thumb along your bottom lip with barely any pressure, she gathers the saliva left behind and pushes inward until your lips are wrapped around her finger.

If you died in this moment—you’d be okay with it. Given the way your insides had turned molten and your brain short circuited the second she placed her lips on yours. Whimpering, you drag her closer until your lips are back on hers and she’s once again leading you through a dance you never wish to stop. You want the taste of her burned into your mind. So sweet and subtle, but strong enough to get drunk off of.

You don’t stop kissing her until she has to leave and even then you beg for one more in the open doorway of your home.

You kiss Steven for the first time three days after Layla. What came over you to reach over, drag him in by the collar, and slot your lips against his you’ll never know. But you’ll never forget the way he gasped—a shudder running down his spine as you tangled your fingers in the hair at the base of his neck. It’s not nearly as intoxicating as Layla and you’re thankful he doesn’t overtake you, but it’s beautiful.

He sighs into your mouth like he’d thought of nothing else for months, before he’s lightly dragging his hands upwards. The pressure of his palms against your waist is enough to drive you mad. Or at least drag him so close his scent is burned into your senses, the way his tongue hesitantly sweeps through your mouth. He doesn’t know how to kiss—that much is obvious—but it doesn’t stop you.

Oddly enough the door opens and Layla walks in. A smile gracing her face as she finds you practically sitting on Steven’s lap, your tongue sensually pressing against his until he’s shaking. You nearly feel bad for making him whimper, beg, plead for more. Except then you pull back to see his face and realize…this is what Layla must have seen on yours.

It’s a new kind of high to see Steven’s eyes all glassy—his lips in a perpetual pout that has your own curving up to a smile. You like him like this. Putty in your hands as you slowly lean in to kiss him again. Layla’s lips press against your bare shoulder—whispers of how good you two look together echo in your ear before she’s pulling away. She had her time with you…now it’s Steven’s turn. Fair is far after all.

That doesn’t stop you from licking into Steven’s mouth, gathering saliva on your tongue before moving away to cup the back of her neck, pressing an open mouthed kiss on her lips—pushing Steven’s spit into her mouth. She moans into the kiss, her hand tightly gripping at your hair before shifting back and leaving the two of you alone once more. Steven is greedy enough to cup your cheeks and turn your face back to his with enough timidness to melt your heart.

He wants you—craves you, and it’s there you realize that you’ll give him whatever he wants just to have a chance to kiss him like this again.

“Well I just don’t see the point in kissing them both,” he mutters into his glass of whiskey.

Your eyebrows raise as you attempt to bite back the smirk that threatened to show on your face. “You don’t see the point in me wanting to kiss…both of them.”

He grumbles, the scowl you recognize so well on his face once again returning. “Well yeah. Layla is my wife–”

“Divorced.”

“And Steven is literally apart of me–”

“I’ll give you that but–”

“So why did you want to kiss them and…” he trails off, staring into the amber liquid as if it would give him all the answers he sought.

Smiling, you lean forward to cup his chin and drag his head upwards so his eyes lock on yours. “Marc…did you want me to kiss you too?”

The red flooding his face tells you everything you need to know. “No,” he states. “Absolutely not. Have fun with both of them.”

Letting go of his face, you lean back—swallowing the rest of your drink and shrugging. “Whatever you say Spector,” you tease, getting up from the table. “Enjoy your drink.”

It’s two hours later that a sullen knock is hitting your door. Before you even open it you know it’s him—can feel it in your bones—and low and behold you swing the door open to see him…drunk. He leans against your doorway, the curls more pronounced and falling into his face the way Steven wears it. You nearly mistake him for Steven until he begins speaking—the American accent coming through thick and strong.

“Why didn’t you kiss me too?” he asks, eyes glassy with unshed tears.

The sight alone nearly makes your heart shatter. “Oh baby,” you whisper.

“Steven’s been replaying the kiss you two had and all I can think about is…why didn’t you kiss me? Did I fuck up somehow? Or…or hurt you?”

He didn’t know how wrong he was. You had wanted to kiss him the first day you met him—the anxiety of the day still prominent in your mind, but you could recall your imagination running rampant with thoughts of him. Of Marc and his lips. Without another word, you drag him into your home and shut the door. He’s moping, you can see it written across his face. Of course, you won’t tease him about it. You know what longing for kisses feels like.

“Do you want me to kiss you Marc?” you asked gently, cupping his face to keep his eyes level with your own.

“I just–” His eyes close. “Yes. I would.”

Leaning in slowly, you press your lips against his and feel the steady rate of your heart speed up until your nerves are all you can focus on. Even when he’s not trying, he’s good at this. He moves sluggishly, breathing harshly against your cheek, until his brain finally catches up with what’s happening. The world turns on its axis as you’re walking back until you hit a wall, his lips now giving you a run for your money. Whereas Layla was teasing and giving, Marc takes. Steals your breath and makes you beg for more.

Where Steven was soft and hesitant, Marc is strong and dominant. There’s something in his hold that says he wants this—you—but he’s also afraid of hurting you. As if you’ll break beneath his palms. Moaning into the kiss, you shudder when his tongue sweeps along yours, running along the top of your mouth and dragging another sound from your throat. Why you hadn’t kissed him sooner, you don’t know. You were sorely regretting waiting so long at this moment.

“Marc,” you gasp, eyes fluttering shut when his teeth pull at your bottom lip gently.

“Mhm.” It’s mumbled against your cheek, his breath hot along your skin.

He’s driven your mind to madness, the heat burning through your body until you can’t think straight anymore. You don’t even fucking want to at this point. All you can sense, taste, feel, is Marc and you want more. You want him to drag you to hell and back with his lips alone. Tugging at his hair, you manage to gain the upper hand, sucking on his tongue and smirking into the kiss when it’s his turn to moan.

“You’re right,” you breathe, choking when he nips down your throat. “I should have kissed you a lot sooner.”

It’s a day later when Layla hears about what happened. You bet the hickeys on his neck tell her the story and you joke that they are now matching. Steven is last to find out—laughing at Marc’s expense when he learns what exactly occurred. It’s enough to make you smile. Even though Marc refuses to accept the fact that he begged…let alone nearly cried.

That however is soon rectified when you press your lips against his again.

[fannish-karmiya]

Wei Wuxian’s Position in the Jiang Household

Fandom tends to mischaracterise Wei Wuxian’s position in the Jiang family greatly. A lot of people project more modern ideas about adoption onto his relationship with the Jiang siblings, and write as if he really is their sibling and only Yu Ziyuan’s abusive nature gets in the way of their bond.

This strikes me as a bit misguided. While adoption was practised in ancient China, it was mainly for the purpose of obtaining a male heir in the absence of one, or obtaining more daughters to marry off for alliances. Jiang Fengmian had no reason to adopt Wei Wuxian into the main family, and he didn’t. Wei Wuxian’s position in the household is far more nebulous than that, and honestly it’s hard to find an exact corollary, in Chinese history or in any culture, precisely because it was so messy and ill-defined.

A Companion to Upper Class Children

Wei Wuxian is the son of a servant of Yunmeng Jiang; it’s notable that Wei Changze is always referred to this way, rather than as a disciple. Wei Changze wound up leaving the sect in order to marry Cangse Sanren, and Jiang Fengmian considered them dear enough friends that when he heard they passed away, he spent years searching for their orphaned son. He wound up finding Wei Wuxian on the streets of Yiling and brought him home as his ward.

Wei WuXian was taken home by Jiang FengMian when he was nine.

Most memories from back then were already blurred. Yet, Jin Ling’s mother, Jiang YanLi, remembered all of them, and even told him quite a few.

She said that, after his father heard of the news that his parents both died in battle, he had always dedicated himself to finding the child that these past friends had left behind. After searching for a while, he finally found the child in Yiling.

(Chapter 24, Exiled Rebels translation)

It’s clear from the start that beyond this sense of obligation to his old friends, Jiang Fengmian also had a role set out for Wei Wuxian: he wanted him to be a companion to his children, and Jiang Cheng in particular.

He encourages a friendship between them, insisting on a sleepover between the two a week into Wei Wuxian’s stay.

On the second day, Jiang Cheng’s puppies were given to someone else.

This angered Jiang Cheng so much that he threw a big tantrum. No matter how much Jiang FengMian comforted him gently, telling him that they should ‘be good friends’, he refused to talk to Wei WuXian. Quite a few days later, Jiang Cheng’s attitude softened. Jiang FengMian wanted to strike while the iron was still hot, so he told Wei WuXian to sleep in the same room as him, hoping that they’d grow fonder of each other.

[...]

That night, Jiang Cheng locked Wei WuXian outside his room, refusing to let him in.

[...]

Wei WuXian waited outside for a long time. When the door opened, before the joy could spread onto his face, he was bombarded with a pile of things being thrown out. The door banged shut again.

Jiang Cheng told him from inside, “Go sleep somewhere else! This is my room! You’re even gonna steal my room?!”

[...]

Standing outside, as Wei WuXian heard that dogs would come bite him, fear immediately bubbled within him. Twisting his fingers, he hurried, “I’ll go, I’ll go. Don’t call the dogs!”

Dragging behind him the sheets and blanket that were thrown outside, he ran out the hall. Having only arrived at Lotus Pier for a short period of time, he didn’t dare jump around yet. Every day, he obediently holed up in the places that Jiang FengMian told him to stay at. He didn’t even know where his room was, much less have the courage to knock on other people’s doors, scared that it’d disturb someone’s dreams.

(Chapter 71, Exiled Rebels translation)

After Jiang Cheng is worried about getting in trouble, he goes to Jiang Yanli for help, and she searches for Wei Wuxian.

But this was the first pair of shoes that Jiang FengMian bought him. Wei WuXian was too embarrassed to make him go out of his way to buy another pair, and so he said that they weren’t too big. Jiang YanLi helped him into his shoe and pressed the hollow tip, “It is a bit big. I’ll fix it for you when we get back.”

Hearing this, Wei WuXian felt somewhat uneasy, as if he did something wrong again.

Living in other people’s homes, the worst that could happen was to make trouble for the hosts.

Jiang YanLi put him onto her back and began to walk back, wobbling in her steps as she spoke, “A-Ying, no matter what A-Cheng said to you, don’t bother about him. He doesn’t have a good temper, so he’s always home playing with himself. Those puppies were his favorites. Dad sent them away, and so he’s feeling upset. He’s actually really happy that somebody’s here to be with him.”

(Chapter 71, Exiled Rebels translation)

Later, Wei Wuxian offers to cover for him, saying simply that he ran outside by himself because he was scared. In this one case it feels like a genuine instance of children showing solidarity and covering for each other’s little misbehaviours. But it also follows a pattern of Wei Wuxian doing this and making excuses, time and time again, for Jiang Cheng. I wonder if on some level, he already knew that his role in the household was in part to be a companion-servant to Jiang Cheng.

Wei Wuxian normally never puts up with people treating him poorly or being arrogant; he constantly bites his tongue when Jiang Cheng does so around him. While they study at Cloud Recesses, Jiang Cheng frequently insults Wei Wuxian, who always just smiles and laughs it off.

Jiang Cheng humphed, “Him? He wakes at nine in the morning and sleeps at one during the night. When he wakes up, he doesn’t practice his sword or meditate; he goes boating, swims around, picks lotus seedpods, and hunts for pheasants.”

Wei WuXian replied, “No matter how much pheasants I hunt, I’m still number one.”

(Chapter 13, Exiled Rebels translation)

Jiang Cheng scolded with a darkened expression, “What are you proud of?! What is there to be proud of with this?! Do you think that it’s a glorious thing to be told by someone to get lost? You bring so much shame upon our sect!”

(Chapter 16, Exiled Rebels translation)

We never see Wei Wuxian excusing this sort of behaviour from any other character; he has no problem scolding Jin Ling for his arrogant attitude and telling him that he shouldn’t be imitating his uncle, after all! It’s only where Jiang Cheng is concerned that he does this, and honestly, even then he seems to be quite aware that Jiang Cheng’s behaviour is wrong; he simply accepts on some level that it’s his role in the household to put up with it.

He actually does, very gently, try to guide Jiang Cheng at times. In Lotus Seed Pods, for example, he tries to give Jiang Cheng advice on how to flirt with some of the maidens in Yunmeng and make friends:

Wei WuXian threw the seed pods toward the shore. It was a far distance, but they landed lightly in the women’s hands. He grabbed a few more and stuffed them into Jiang Cheng’s arms, shoving, “What are you doing, just standing there? Hurry up.”

After a few shoves, Jiang Cheng could only accept them, “Hurry up and do what?”

Wei WuXian, “You ate the watermelon too, so you also have to return the gift, don’t you? Here, here, don’t be embarrassed. Start throwing, start throwing.”

Jiang Cheng snorted again, “You must be joking. What’s there to be embarrassed about?” Whatever he said, however, even after all of the shidi began to throw seed pods, he still didn’t start to move. Wei WuXian urged, “Then throw some! If you throw some this time, next time you can ask them if the seed pods tasted good, and you’ll be able to make conversation again!”

[...]

Jiang Cheng was just about to throw one when he realized how shameless it was the moment he heard it. He peeled a seed pod and ate it by himself.

[...]

After a while of laughter, he turned around and looked at Jiang Cheng, who was sitting at the front of the boat eating seed pods with a long face. His smile gradually disappeared as he sighed, “Well, what an unteachable child.”

Jiang Cheng fumed, “So what if I want to eat alone?”

Wei WuXian, “Look at you, Jiang Cheng. Nevermind. You’re hopeless. Just wait to eat alone your whole life!”

(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)

He even sighs rather disappointedly when Jiang Cheng refuses to take the hint; he knows that Jiang Cheng’s sullen behaviour is going to make him miserable down the line, but all of his gentle efforts to nudge him in a better direction have failed.

He also speaks with great awareness of Jiang Cheng’s flaws after the fight in the ancestral hall:

Wei WuXian reached out with one hand and massaged his chest, as if trying to break up the pent-up feeling inside his heart. A moment later, he blurted, “I knew Jiang Cheng wouldn’t have let us go so easily. That brat… How could this be?!”

[...]

Wei WuXian’s eyelids throbbed, “Every one of them. The brat’s been like this ever since he was young.He’ll say anything when he’s angry, no matter how bad it is. He gives up on all grace and discipline whatsoever. As long as it’d annoy whomever he’s against, he’d say it no matter what terrible insults he uses. After all these years, he hasn’t gotten better at all. Please don’t take it to heart.”

(Chapter 90, Exiled Rebels translation)

This is so interesting to me, because it really makes it clear that Wei Wuxian has always been aware of these flaws of Jiang Cheng’s. He hasn’t been viewing him through rose-coloured lenses or making excuses for him because he’s ‘family’. He puts up with Jiang Cheng’s behaviour because being his companion is one of his duties in the Jiang household. It may never have been directly stated, but there seems to be some unspoken understanding to this effect.

I honestly don’t know if there is any official role in history (in any culture, not just China) which perfectly correlates to this. In China a lady’s maid was expected to also be a close friend and companion to her mistress (in canon, see Bicao to Qin-furen and Yinzhu and Jinzhu to Yu-furen). In Europe an upper class woman would hire a lady’s companion, a woman from the lower fringes of the gentry who would serve as her companion in exchange for financial support.

I don’t know of any version of this role which involves two men. In general, this sort of role existed because upper class women were confined to the household by and large, and had very limited social spheres. Men, meanwhile, had much greater ability to meet with their peers and make friends. I almost feel like Wei Wuxian wound up being shoved into this role simply because even as a child Jiang Cheng was so unsociable that Jiang Fengmian didn’t know what else to do!

Wei Wuxian also at least once steps in and starts a fight in place of Jiang Cheng (essentially taking the fall for him). He does this when Jin Zixuan speaks disparagingly of Jiang Yanli at Cloud Recesses:

Jin ZiXuan asked in reply, “Why don’t you ask me how on Earth can I be satisfied with her?”

Jiang Cheng instantly stood up.

Pushing him to the side, Wei WuXian walked in front of him and sneered, “You sure think that you’re pretty satisfying, don’t you? Where did you get the guts to be all choosy here?”

[...]

Wei WuXian sighed, “… It’d be nice if shijie came. It’s fortunate that you didn’t hit him.”

Jiang Cheng, “I was going to. If you didn’t push me, the other side of Jin ZiXuan’s face would also be ruined.”

(Chapter 18, Exiled Rebels translation)

It’s also very notable that Wei Wuxian is never shown having friends outside of Jiang Cheng’s social circle, despite what an outgoing and friendly person he is. Any time he expresses interest in someone for himself, as with Lan Wangji, Jiang Cheng tries to nip it in the bud. Being unable to deter Wei Wuxian from Lan Wangji directly, Jiang Cheng instead tries to drive a wedge between them, constantly telling Wei Wuxian that Lan Wangji hates him.

“Yeah,” Nie HuaiSang spoke, “It looks like he really hates you, Wei-xiong. Lan WangJi usually… No, he never does something so impolite.”

Wei WuXian, “He hates me already? I wanted to apologize to him.”

Jiang Cheng sneered, “Apologizing now? Too late! Like his uncle, he surely thinks that you are evil and unruly to the core, and didn’t bother to pay you any attention.”

(Chapter 14, Exiled Rebels translation)

Jiang Cheng pulled him even closer, “It’s not as if you’re familiar with him! Don’t you see how much he hates you? You’re going to carry him? He probably doesn’t even want you a step closer to him.”

(Chapter 52, Exiled Rebels translation)

He even directly orders Wei Wuxian not to invite Lan Wangji to come visit him at Lotus Pier during the Lotus Seed Pod extra.

Wei WuXian, “Why are you so upset? My watermelon almost flew away! I was just being polite. Of course he wouldn’t come. Have you ever heard of him go anywhere by himself to have fun?”

Jiang Cheng had on a stern expression, “Let’s make this clear. I don’t want him to come, anyhow. Don’t invite him.”

(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)

It’s not only Lan Wangji he tries to steer Wei Wuxian away from; he also interrupts his conversation with Wen Ning at the archery competition:

Wen QiongLin was probably one of Wen Clan’s disciples furthest in bloodline. His status was neither high nor low, yet his personality was timid. He didn’t dare do anything and even his speech stuttered. Through much practice, he had finally conjured up the courage to enter the competition, but he blew it because he was too nervous. If he didn’t receive the right guidance, perhaps the boy would hide his true self more and more from now on and never dare to perform in front of other people again. Wei WuXian encouraged him a couple of times and touched on a few areas of growth, correcting some miniscule problems that he had when he was shooting in the garden. Wen QiongLin listened so attentively that he didn’t even turn his eyes away, nodding uncontrollably.

Jiang Cheng, “Where did you find so much nonsense? The competition is starting soon. Get into the arena right now!”

Wei WuXian spoke to Wen QiongLin in a serious tone, “I’ll be off to the competition now. Later, you can see how I shoot when I’m in the arena…”

Jiang Cheng dragged him away, short of patience. He spat as he dragged, “See how you shoot? Do you think that you’re a model or something?!”

(Chapter 59, Exiled Rebels translation)

Even when it comes to Wei Wuxian’s friendly flirtation with Mianmian, Jiang Cheng has something to say and tries to deter him from her:

Jiang Cheng, “The one that MianMian gave you? I didn’t.”

Wei WuXian exclaimed his regret, “I’ll find her for another one later.”

Jiang Cheng frowned, “You’re at it again. You don’t really like her, do you? The girl does look fine, but it’s obvious that she doesn’t have much background. Maybe she isn’t even a disciple. She seems like the daughter of a servant.”

Wei WuXian, “What’s wrong with servants? I’m also the son of a servant, aren’t I?”

Jiang Cheng, “How can you compare to her? Whose servant is like you, having your master peel lotus seeds for you and boil you soup. I didn’t even get to have some!”

(Chapter 56, Exiled Rebels translation)

Jiang Cheng really does seem to view Wei Wuxian in a very proprietary light; he’s not allowed to have any friendships which don’t exist under Jiang Cheng’s direct control.

The idea that Wei Wuxian was meant to be Jiang Cheng’s servant-friend is reinforced at its darkest when Lotus Pier falls: both Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Fengmian’s last words to Wei Wuxian are an instruction to protect Jiang Cheng.

One hand holding him, Madam Yu grabbed Wei WuXian’s lapels with her other hand as though to strangle him to death. She spoke through clenched teeth, “… You damn little brat! I hate you! I hate you more than anything else! Look at what our sect has gone through for your sake!”

[...]

Madam Yu, “Don’t make such a fuss. It’ll loosen up when you’re somewhere safe. If anyone attacks you on the journey, it’ll protect you as well. Don’t come back. Go to Meishan straight away and find your sister!”

After she finished, she turned to Wei WuXian and pointed at him, “Wei Ying! Listen to me! Protect Jiang Cheng, protect him even if you die, do you understand?!”

[...]

Jiang FengMian stared into his eyes. Suddenly, he reached out. Only after pausing in the air did he finally touch Jiang Cheng’s head, slowly, “A-Cheng, be well.”

Wei WuXian, “Uncle Jiang, if anything happens to you, he won’t be well.”

Jiang FengMian turned his eyes to him, “A-Ying, A-Cheng… you must look after him.”

(Chapter 58, Exiled Rebels translation)

Even Jiang Fengmian, who supposedly favoured Wei Wuxian, only gives him instructions as pertains to his own son; he doesn’t spare a single last word for Wei Wuxian himself.

A Lower Status Family Member

It wasn’t uncommon throughout human history, across many cultures, for wealthy families to take in relatives who were orphaned or had otherwise fallen on hard times. They tended to have a lower status than the main family; they lived with them and were still a part of their social sphere, but were not quite equal, either. The English term for this is ‘poor relation’.

Obviously, Wei Wuxian isn’t actually a blood relative at all. But his position in the Jiang household definitely has some similarities. He lives in the main house, eats meals with the family, attends school with the son... He is even on some conditional levels accepted into the gentry of cultivation society. But he isn’t a full equal member of the family, either.

The fact that he’s Jiang Fengmian’s ward, not a blood relative or adopted into the main family, puts him at even more of a disadvantage. It seems that Jiang Fengmian paid for all of Wei Wuxian’s expenses:

Wei WuXian took a bite, “Back then, I didn’t even have to pay when I ate at the dock. I grabbed whatever I wanted, ate whatever I wanted; ran after I grabbed, walked as I ate. A month later, the vendor would get the reimbursement from Uncle Jiang.”

(Chapter 86, Exiled Rebels translation)

While this is a bit of conjecture, I gather that he was given access to family money as if he was part of the clan, and could just charge Yunmeng Jiang whenever he shopped in Lotus Pier. Which is great so long as Wei Wuxian is accepted in Yunmeng Jiang...but as we see during the Burial Mounds settlement period, the moment that acceptance fades, Wei Wuxian is left out in the cold without a single coin. And because he isn’t a member of the family, it’s a far easier matter for him to be thrown aside, as he was when Jiang Cheng grew angry with him over his decision to protect the Wens.

Of course, Chinese families traditionally did share their wealth, and still do nowadays. Ideally, in a loving family, this is a positive and means they all support each other; but when that isn’t the case, it leaves the victims of abuse vulnerable.

In Wei Wuxian’s case, he has some of the benefits of being a member of the Jiang clan, without ever actually being a member. He can be cast aside at any time, and he is never afforded the same respect by wider cultivation society which an inner clan member would have.

I don’t believe the novel ever directly addresses Wei Wuxian’s acceptance into the guest lectures at Cloud Recesses in this light, but the donghua actually has a very interesting little exchange about it which takes place between Nie Huaisang and a relative of his:

“Wei-xiong is just a disciple from Yunmeng. Why could he come to Gusu to study?”

“Wei-xiong is the son of Jiang-zongzhu’s old friend. He has been treated as their own son.”

“Oh, I see. That explains why they don’t look like master and servant, they seem like brothers.”

(MDZS Donghua, Episode 3, Guodong Subs)

Wei Wuxian was only allowed to attend these lectures, which seem to mainly be for sect heirs and inner clan members, on the grace of being Jiang Fengmian’s ward (and probably to accompany Jiang Cheng). While this exchange is not from the book, we never do see or hear about any of the other students being outer disciples rather than members of the main clan. Here’s what the novel had to say about it:

In that year, aside from the YunmengJiang Sect, there were also the young masters from other clans, sent to study here from parents who heard of the reputation. The young masters were all around fifteen or sixteen. Because the sects all knew the others, although they weren’t close, they had seen others’ faces before. It was widely known that, although Wei WuXian’s surname was not Jiang, he was the leading disciple of the sect leader of the YunmengJiang Sect—Jiang FengMian, and also the son of his friend who had passed away. In fact, the sect leader regarded him as his own child. This, along with how youths were not as concerned with status and ancestry as elders, they were soon friends. Only a few sentences passed, and everyone started to call others older brothers or younger brothers.

(Chapter 13, Exiled Rebels translation)

And Wei Wuxian isn’t treated as an equal at school, either; when he and his friends get up to mischief, he’s frequently the only one punished. Nie Huaisang even notes that Lan Qiren seems to be far harder on him than the other students:

Nie HuaiSang spoke, “Why does it seem like old man Lan is especially strict towards you? He always directs his scoldings at you.”

(Chapter 14, Exiled Rebels translation)

And we see Wei Wuxian being the sole one punished out of a group taken for granted by his friends multiple times:

As a result of cheating notes flying everywhere in the air, Lan WangJi suddenly attacked during the test, and caught a few initiators of the commotion. Lan QiRen exploded with anger, writing letters to the prominent clans to tell on them. He loathed Wei WuXian—in the beginning, although these disciples could hardly sit still, at least nobody started anything, and their buttocks were able to stick to their legs. However, now that Wei Ying came, the originally spineless brats were influenced by his encouragement, venturing out at night and drinking alcohol however they pleased. The unhealthy practices grew greater and greater. As he had expected, Wei Ying was one of the biggest threats to humanity!

Jiang FengMian replied, “Ying has always been like this. Please take care to discipline him, Mr. Lan.”

And so, Wei WuXian was punished again.

(Chapter 14, Exiled Rebels translation)

The boys were all cheating, but Wei Wuxian is the one punished most severely. This happens when he's caught sneaking alcohol, too (though to be fair to Lan Wangji, he probably was only punishing him, and himself alongside him, for being outside after curfew when he threw them off the wall).

Of course, Jiang Cheng didn’t dare to say that Wei WuXian was at fault. Thinking back, it was them who urged Wei WuXian to buy liquor. Each and every one of them should have been punished. He could only speak in a vague way, “It’s fine, it’s fine; it’s not that serious! He can walk. Wei WuXian, why are you still up there?!”

(Chapter 18, Exiled Rebels translation)

It’s not entirely unreasonable for the one who gets caught to take the punishment (what’s he going to do, rat his friends out?) but their ready acceptance of this does fit into a pattern.

Jiang Cheng’s top was tied at his waist. Hearing his mother’s chastise, he hastily put it over his head. Madam Yu scolded again, “And you boys! Can’t you see that A-Li’s here? Who taught you brats to dress like this in front of a girl!?”

Of course, it was needless to think who led the group. Thus, Madam Yu’s next sentence, as usual, was “Wei Ying! Do you want to die!?”

[...]

He could still feel some pain in his back, so he tossed the paddles to someone else, sat down, and felt the stinging piece of flesh, “How unfair. Nobody else was wearing anything, but why was I the only one who got scolded and beaten up?”

Jiang Cheng, “Because you hurt the eye the most with no clothes on, for sure.”

[...]

Everyone nodded. Wei WuXian, “Thanks for the praise, you guys. I’m even starting to feel some goose bumps.”

The shidi, “You’re welcome, Da-Shixiong. You protect us every single time. You deserve even more!”

(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)

While we know that Yu Ziyuan is an abusive person in general, she abuses Wei Wuxian far more harshly than anyone else, even the outer disciples. It’s made clear to us in Lotus Seed Pods that she whips him regularly over minor infractions:

Madam Yu was even angrier, “How dare you run! Come back right now and kneel!” As she spoke, she let loose her whip with a flip of her wrist. Wei WuXian felt a searing pain slash across his back. He loudly exclaimed, “Ow!” And almost tripped on the ground.

(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)

And that his back is heavily scarred from it:

He felt his back, covered in scars both old and new, and still couldn’t hold back the question he’d be thinking about, “How awfully unfair. Why is it that I’m the only one who gets beaten up, whenever something happens?”

(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)

Rumours about this even made it outside of Lotus Pier; during their visit to the ancestral hall years later, Lan Wangji even states that he heard about some of it:

Lan WangJi had on an expression of understanding, “Kneeling as punishment?”

Wei WuXian mused, “How did you know? That’s right. Madam Yu punished me almost every day.”

Lan WangJi nodded, “I have heard of a few things.”

Wei WuXian, “It’s so famous that even people outside Yunmeng, even you Gusu people know—how could it be ‘a few things’? But, to be honest, in all these years, I’ve never seen a second woman whose temper was as bad as Madam Yu’s. She told me to go to the ancestral hall and kneel no matter how small the matter was. Hahaha…”

(Chapter 87, Exiled Rebels translation)

Wei Wuxian’s lower social standing is definitely a part of why Yu Ziyuan is able to abuse him so terribly and receive little to no censure for it. Everyone at Lotus Pier simply takes it for granted, with the exception of Jiang Yanli who at least does try to deflect her mother when she is angry with Wei Wuxian:

Yet, all of a sudden, someone’s quiet voice drifted by Madam Yu’s ear, “Mom, do you want to eat some watermelon…”

[...]

Jiang YanLi almost cried from her mother’s pinching, mumbling, “Mom, A-Xian and the others were hiding here to relieve the heat and I came here on my own. Don’t blame them… Do… Do you want some watermelon… I don’t know who gave them to us, but it’s really sweet. Eating watermelon in the summer is great for cooling down and quenching thirst. I’ll cut them for you…”

(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)

She both tries to deflect her mother from her anger, and also outright states that Wei Wuxian and the other boys weren’t at fault. Jiang Yanli seems to be the only one at Lotus Pier who ever does this.

After the war, Wei Wuxian attends social events at Jiang Cheng’s side but is never quite treated as an equal, either. See how at the Flower Banquet, Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue greet Jiang Cheng but not him:

Suddenly, a voice spoke, “Sect Leader Nie, Sect Leader Lan.”

Hearing the familiar voice, Wei WuXian’s heart jumped. Nie MingJue turned around again. Jiang Cheng came over, dressed in purple, hand on his sword.

And the person standing beside Jiang Cheng was none other than Wei WuXian himself.

He saw himself walk with hands behind his back, wearing all black. A flute in the shade of ink stuck to his waist, hanging down with crimson colored tassels. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Jiang Cheng, he nodded in this direction to show respect. Attitude slightly arrogant, he took on a profound, disdainful appearance. As Wei WuXian saw the stance of his younger self, the root of his teeth even cringed in soreness. He felt that he really was pretentious, and itched to just beat the hell out of himself.

Lan WangJi also saw Wei WuXian, who stood beside Jiang Cheng. The tip of his brows twitched ever so slightly. Soon afterward, his light-colored eyes returned to where they were, still looking forward in that composed way. Jiang Cheng and Nie MingJue nodded at each other with grave faces. Neither had anything unnecessary to say. After a hasty greeting, the two walked their separate ways. Wei WuXian saw his black-clothed self glance around as he finally saw Lan WangJi. He looked as if he was about to speak before Jiang Cheng came over and stood to his side.

(Chapter 49, Exiled Rebels translation)

They then proceed to talk about him and his lack of a sword behind his back, never having said a word to Wei Wuxian himself:

Nie MingJue’s gaze turned over again, “Why does Wei Ying not carry his sword?”

Carrying one’s sword was like wearing formal attire. In such gatherings, it was a non-negligible indication of etiquette. Those from prominent sects saw it as especially important. Lan WangJi responded in a lukewarm tone, “He had probably forgotten.”

Ning MingJue raised a brow, “He can even forget something like this?”

(Chapter 49, Exiled Rebels translation)

At Phoenix Mountain it also seems that Wei Wuxian is conditionally a member of the gentry, but not treated like an equal. Sometimes there are these more cheerful interactions:

Holding the flower, Lan WangJi seemed to be quite cold. His tone seemed cold as well, “Was it you?”

Wei WuXian immediately denied it, “No, it wasn’t.”

The maidens beside him spoke at once, “Don’t believe him. It was him!”

Wei WuXian, “How could you treat a good person like this? I’m getting angry!”

Giggling, the maidens pulled their reins and went to the formations of their own sects. Lan WangJi lowered the hand that he held the flower with and shook his head. Jiang Cheng spoke, “ZeWu-Jun, HanGuang-Jun, apologies. Don’t pay attention to him.”

Lan XiChen smiled, “That is fine. I will thank Young Master Wei’s kindness behind the flower in place of WangJi.”

(Chapter 69, Exiled Rebels translation)

But then he will be publicly disparaged and it is readily accepted by others. Jin Zixun first starts an argument with him by criticising Wei Wuxian for fighting Jin Zixuan, then turns the topic to Wei Wuxian’s having taken a third of the prey in the hunt.

Jin ZiXun, “Wei, just what what do you mean by going against ZiXuan so many times?”

[...]

Jin ZiXun sneered, “How is it presumptuous? How is any part of you not presumptuous? Today, in such an important hunt involving all of the sects, you really showed off your abilities, didn’t you? One third of the prey have been taken by you. You sure feel pleased, don’t you?”

[...]

He mocked, “But it’s only natural that you don’t think you’re in the wrong. It’s not the first time that Young Master Wei has disregarded the rules. You didn’t wear your sword in both last time’s flower banquet and this time’s hunt. It’s such a grand event, and you care nothing for courtesy. In what regard to you hold us, the people who are present with you?”

[...]

No disciple had ever dared say such lofty words in front of so many people. A moment later, as Jin ZiXun finally regained his composure, he yelled, “Wei WuXian! You’re only the son of a servant—how dare you be so bold!!!”

(Chapters 69-70, Exiled Rebels translation)

Naturally, Jin Zixun is able to weasel out of giving an apology, even though Jiang Yanli demands one. And guess who also takes a third of the prey, but this time without any censure?

Jin GuangYao, “In reality, not only did Young Master Wei keep a third of the prey to himself, our eldest brother has eliminated over half of the fays and the monsters as well.”

Hearing this, Lan XiChen laughed, “That is how Brother is like, after all.”

(Chapter 70, Exiled Rebels translation)

Never a Brother

As I’ve already mentioned, Wei Wuxian was never adopted by Jiang Fengmian, or adopted into the clan in general in even a distant way. And this nebulous ‘we’re letting you live with the main family as a charity, but you aren’t really one of us’ attitude also reflects in his relationship with Jiang Yanli.

I’ve already discussed how Wei Wuxian was more like a companion servant to Jiang Cheng than a brother. It’s also worth noting quickly that neither of them ever refers to the other as a brother. Wei Wuxian refers to Jiang Cheng as his shidi a few times, and Jiang Cheng never even refers to him as his shixiong (because Jiang Cheng views him as his servant, not as even a martial brother, I’d argue).

Only one member of the Jiang family ever does use familial terms to refer to Wei Wuxian: his shijie, Jiang Yanli. At Phoenix Mountain, when Wei Wuxian is being insulted by Jin Zixun, Jiang Yanli stands up and defends him, and states clearly that she considers Wei Wuxian a little brother:

The people who gathered around Jin ZiXun had on the same dark faces as he did. Yet, taking into consideration Jiang YanLi’s background, they didn’t dare talk back to her directly.

Jiang YanLi added, “Besides, hunting is hunting, so why bring the matter of discipline to the table? A-Xian is a disciple of the YunmengJiang Sect. He grew up with my brother and I, and so he’s as close as a brother is to me. Calling him the ‘son of a servant’—I’m sorry, but I won’t accept this. And thus…”

She straightened her back and raised her voice, “I hope that Young Master Jin ZiXun would apologize to Wei WuXian of the YunmengJiang Sect!”

(Chapter 70, Exiled Rebels translation)

It doesn’t come through in the Exiled Rebels translation, but she actually refers to Wei Wuxian as her didi in this scene, not her shidi. She’s trying to draw a line and state that Wei Wuxian is a part of the family. However, no one takes her seriously, and shortly afterwards we see Jin-furen insisting that Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian shouldn’t be walking alone together because it would be inappropriate.

Jiang YanLi whispered, “That’s not necessary. I’d like to have a few words with A-Xian. He can walk me back.”

Madam Jin raised her brows, looking Wei WuXian up and down. Her gaze was somewhat cautious, as if she was feeling displeased, “A young man and a young woman—you two can’t stick together all the time if nobody else is present.”

Jiang YanLi, “A-Xian is my younger brother.”

[...]

Wei WuXian lowered his head, “Excuse my absence, Madam Jin.”

He and Jiang YanLi bowed at the same time. As they turned around to leave, Madam Jin grabbed Jiang YanLi’s hand and refused to let her leave.

(Chapter 70, Exiled Rebels translation)

Jin Zixuan also never treats Wei Wuxian the way one might a brother who is still angered with him over his past dismissive treatment of his sister. For example, see their argument at the Flower Banquet:

Before he could see how Lan WangJi reacted, a series of clamor suddenly came from the other end of the base. Wei WuXian heard his own raging shout, “Jin ZiXuan! Don’t you forget about what things you said and what things you did? What do you mean by this, now?!”

Wei WuXian remembered. So it was this time!

On the other side, Jin ZiXuan also fumed, “I was asking Sect Leader Jiang, not you! The one I was asking about was also Maiden Jiang. How is that related to you?!”

[...]

Jin ZiXuan, “Sect Leader Jiang—this is our sect’s flower banquet, and this is your sect’s person! Are you going to look after him or not?!”

[...]

...Jiang Cheng’s voice came, “Wei WuXian, you can just shut your mouth. Young Master Jin, I’m sorry. My sister is doing quite well. Thank you for your concern. We can talk about this next time.”

Wei WuXian laughed coldly, “Next time? There is no next time! Whether or not she’s doing well isn’t any of his business, either! Who does he think he is?”

He turned around and started to leave. Jiang Cheng shouted, “Get back here! Where are you going?”

Wei WuXian waved his hands, “Anywhere is fine! Just don’t let me see that face of his. I never wanted to come, anyway. You can deal with whatever’s here yourself.”

Having been abandoned by Wei WuXian, Jiang Cheng’s face immediately clouded over.

[...]

Jiang Cheng stowed away the clouds on his face, “Don’t mind him. Look at how impolite he is. He’s used to such rude behavior at home.”

He then began to converse with Jin ZiXuan.

(Chapter 49, Exiled Rebels translation)

Jiang Cheng also quietly dismisses the notion of Wei Wuxian as a brother in relation to Jiang Yanli; when they visit to show him her wedding dress and she asks for a courtesy name, Jiang Cheng specifically says:

Jiang Cheng, “The courtesy name of my unborn nephew.”

(Chapter 75, Exiled Rebels translation)

Not our nephew, mine.

Even the disastrous invitation to Jin Ling’s one month celebration is framed as a favour to an old shidi, not a family member:

Jin ZiXun, “Since you’ve heard it from him already, you should know that I can’t wait. Don’t tell me that you’ll disregard your brother’s life for the sake of Sister-in-Law’s shidi?!”

Jin ZiXuan, “You clearly know that I’m not that kind of person! He might not necessarily be the one who cursed you with Hundred Holes either. Why are you so rash? I was the one who invited Wei WuXian to A-Ling’s full-month celebration anyways. If this is the way you do things, where does that leave me? Where does it leave my wife?”

Jin ZiXun raised his voice, “It’s best if he doesn’t attend! What does Wei WuXian think he is—does he deserve to attend our sect’s banquet? Whoever touches him gets nothing but a splash of black! ZiXuan, when you invited him, weren’t you worried that you, Sister-in-Law and A-Ling would receive an irremovable stain for the rest of your lives?!”

(Chapter 76, Exiled Rebels translation)

It’s clear that not only does wider society not consider Wei Wuxian and the Jiangs siblings...they themselves don’t, either. Wei Wuxian, after all, readily accepts that his relationship with them is over after he leaves the sect:

Before they parted, Jiang Cheng spoke, “We won’t see you off. It wouldn’t be good if someone saw us.”

Wei WuXian nodded. He understood that it wasn’t easy for the Jiang siblings to have come out here. If someone else saw them, all those things they did for the public to believe would be wasted. He spoke, “We’ll go first.”

[...]

He turned around, knowing that it’d be a long time before he’d get to see the people he was familiar with again.

But… right now, wasn’t he on his way to seeing people he was familiar with as well?

(Chapter 75, Exiled Rebels translation)

Cast Aside

The way cultivation society treats Wei Wuxian when he is not with the Jiangs is also very revealing. Any level of respect he is given is contingent on his position in the Jiang household, and when they aren’t around that minimal respect fades away. Look at how disrespectfully he is treated when he approaches Jin Zixun to ask for Wen Ning’s location.

Wei WuXian didn’t make small talk either, getting straight to the point, “No thanks. I don’t.” He nodded slightly at Jin ZiXun, “Young Master Jin, could I please have a word with you?”

Jin ZiXun, “If you have anything to say, come after our banquet is over.”

In reality, he didn’t want to talk to Wei WuXian at all. Wei WuXian could see this as well, “How long do I have to wait?”

Jin ZiXun, “Probably around six to eight hours. Or maybe ten to twelve. Or until tomorrow.”

Wei WuXian, “I’m afraid I can’t wait for that long.”

Jin ZiXun’s voice was arrogant, “You’ll have to wait even if you can’t.”

Jin GuangYao, “Young Master Wei, what do you need ZiXun for? Is it a pressing matter?”

Wei WuXian, “Pressing indeed. It allows for no delay.”

[...]

Jin ZiXun, “Wei WuXian, what do you mean? You came for him? You aren’t standing up for a Wen-dog, are you?”

Wei WuXian wore a broad grin, “Since when is it your business whether I’d like to stand up for him or cut his head off? Just give him to me!”

At the last sentence, the grin on his face vanished. His tone turned cold as well. It was clear that he had lost his patience. Many of the people within Glamor Hal shivered in fear. Jin ZiXun felt his scalp tingle as well. Yet, his anger soon soared. He shouted, “Wei WuXian, you are too bold! Did the LanlingJin Sect invite you today? And you dare run wild here. Do you really think that you’re invincible, that nobody has the courage to confront you? Do you want to overturn the Heavens?”

Wei WuXian smiled, “You’re comparing yourself to the Heavens? Excuse my language, but your face is a little too thick, isn’t it?”

[...]

Just as he was about to rebut, sitting on the foremost seat, Jin GuangShan spoke up.

His voice seemed kind, “It’s not anything too important anyways. You youngsters, why lose your tempers over such a thing? However, Young Master Wei, let me be fair here. Barging in when the LanlingJin Sect is holding a private banquet is indeed inappropriate.”

To say that Jin GuangShan didn’t mind what happened at Phoenix Mountain would be impossible. This was also why he only smiled when Jin ZiXun bickered with Wei WuXian but didn’t stop them, and only spoke up when Jin ZiXun was at the disadvantage.

Wei WuXian nodded, “Sect Leader Jin, it was never my intention to disturb your private banquet. My apologies. However, the whereabouts of the people whom Young Master Jin took are still unclear. Just a moment of delay, and it might be too late. One of the group had once saved me before. I will definitely not sit back and watch. Please do not feel pressured. I will make amends for this at a later date.”

[...]

After a few laughs, he continued, “Sect Leader Jin, let me ask you something else. Do you think that, because the QishanWen Sect is gone, the LanlingJin Sect has all right to replace it?”

All was silent within Glamor Hall.

Wei WuXian added, “Everything has to be given to you? Everyone has to listen to you? Looking at how the LanlingJin Sect does things, I almost thought that it was the QishanWen Sect’s empire all over again.”

[...]

A guest cultivator on his right shouted, “Wei WuXian! Watch your words!”

Wei WuXian, “Did I say something wrong? Forcing living people to be bait and beating them up whenever they refused to obey—is this any different from what the QishanWen Sect does?”

Another guest cultivator stood up, “Of course it’s different. The Wen-dogs did all kinds of evil. To arrive at such an end is only karma for them. We only avenged a tooth for a tooth, letting them taste the fruit that they themselves had sown. What’s wrong with this?”

Wei WuXian, “Take revenge on the ones who bite you. Wen Ning’s branch doesn’t have much blood on their hands. Don’t tell me that you find them guilty by association?”

Another person spoke, “Young Master Wei, is it that they don’t have much blood on their hands just because you say so? These are only your one-sided words. Where’s the evidence?”

[...]

Jin GuangShan stood up as well, his face a mixture of shock, anger, fear, and hatred, “Wei WuXian! Just because… Sect Leader Jiang isn’t here doesn’t mean you can be so reckless!”

Wei WuXian’s voice was harsh, “Do you think that I wouldn’t be reckless if he were here? If I wanted to kill someone, who could stop me, and who would dare stop me?!”

[...]

“Young Master Wei really is too impulsive. How could he speak in such a way in front of so many sects?”

Lan WangJi spoke coldly, “Was he wrong?”

Jin GuangYao paused almost unnoticeably. He immediately laughed, “Haha. Yes, he’s right. But it’s because he’s right that he can’t say it in front of them, correct?”

Lan XiChen seemed as if he was deep in thought, “Young Master Wei’s heart really has changed.”

(Chapter 72, Exiled Rebels translation)

The only person at this banquet who speaks to Wei Wuxian respectfully is Jin Guangyao, a consummate manipulator who is also of a lower social status. Everyone else speaks to him dismissively, refusing to respect his request for Wen Ning’s location even though he states that Wen Ning helped him during the war. Wei Wuxian is extremely polite at the beginning of this conversation, and only slowly begins to lose his temper when Jin Zixun speaks rudely and Jin Guangshan decides to bring up the matter of the Yinhufu (Wei Wuxian is right in suspecting him of wanting to replace Qishan Wen, of course, and that it’s very bold of them to think they have the right to a spiritual tool of his just because...they’re rich?).

When the sects meet at Koi Tower to discuss the breakout at Qiongqi Path, no one considers Wei Wuxian as an independent agent who they might actually want to meet and negotiate with themselves. He is a wayward servant of Yunmeng Jiang who the sect leader has failed to keep in hand.

Jiang Cheng only spoke after a few moments, “What he did was indeed a bit too much. Sect Leader Jin, I apologize to you in place of him. If there’s any way at all to help the situation, please let me know. I’ll definitely compensate for things however I can.”

[...]

Jin GuangShan, “Sect Leader Jiang, Wei Ying is your right-hand man. You value him a lot. All of us know this. However, on the other hand, it’s hard to tell whether or not he actually respects you. In any case, I’ve been a sect leader for so many years and I’ve never seen the servant of any sect dare be so arrogant, so proud. Have you heard what they say outside? Things like how during the Sunshot Campaign the victories of the YunmengJiang Sect were all because of Wei WuXian alone—what nonsense!”

[...]

Lan WangJi sat with his back straight, speaking in a tone of absolute tranquility, “I did not hear Wei Ying say this. I did not hear him express the slightest disrespect towards Sect Leader Jiang either.”

[...]

The good thing was that, not long after he felt awkward, Jin GuangYao came to save the day, exclaiming, “Really? That day, Young Master Wei busted into Koi Tower with such force. He said too many things, one more shocking than the next. Perhaps he said a few things that were along those lines. I can’t remember them either.”

[...]

Jin GuangShan followed the transition, “That’s right. Anyhow, his attitude has always been arrogant.”

One of the sect leaders added, “To be honest, I’ve wanted to say this since a long time ago. Although Wei WuXian did a few things during the Sunshot Campaign, there are many guest cultivators who did more than him. I’ve never seen anyone as full of themselves as him. Excuse my bluntness, but he’s the son of a servant. How could the son of a servant be so arrogant?”

[...]

“In the beginning, Sect Leader Jin asked Wei Ying for the Tiger Seal with nothing but good intentions, worried that he wouldn’t be able to control it and lead to a disaster. He, however, used his own yardstick to measure another’s intents. Did he think that everyone is after his treasure? What a joke. In terms of treasures, is there any sect that doesn’t hold a few treasures?”

“I knew that something would eventually happen if he continued on the ghostly path—look! His killing intents are being revealed already. Killing indiscriminately those from our side just because of a few Wen-dogs…”

[...]

Jin GuangShan continued, “Sect Leader Jiang, you’re not like your father. It’s just been a couple of years since the reestablishment of the YunmengJiang Sect, precisely when you should be displaying your power. And he doesn’t even know to avoid suspicions. What would the Jiang Sect’s new disciples think if they saw him? Don’t tell me you’d let them see him as their role model and look down on you?”

He spoke one sentence after another, striking the iron while it was still hot. Jiang Cheng spoke slowly, “Sect Leader Jin, that’s enough. I’ll go to Burial Mound and deal with this.”

Jin GuangShan felt satisfied, speaking in a sincere tone, “That’s the spirit. Sect Leader Jiang, there are some things, some people that you shouldn’t put up with.”

(Chapter 73, Exiled Rebels translation)

This is very reminiscent of the way that Jin Zixuan would often turn around and say, ‘Why aren’t you controlling your servant?’ to Jiang Cheng whenever he had a dispute with Wei Wuxian over his treatment of Jiang Yanli.

When Jiang Cheng goes to the Burial Mounds and Wei Wuxian defects from Yunmeng Jiang in order to help the sect save face, Jiang Cheng treats this as a personal betrayal. He not only challenges Wei Wuxian to a duel but then announces that Wei Wuxian has betrayed Yunmeng Jiang and declared himself the enemy of cultivation society:

After the fight, Jiang Cheng told the outside that Wei WuXian defected from the sect and was an enemy to the entire cultivation world. The YunmengJiang Sect had already cast him out. From then on, no ties remained between them—a clear line was drawn. Henceforth, no matter what he did, they’d have nothing to do with the YunmengJiang Sect!

(Chapter 73, Exiled Rebels translation)

“Wei Wuxian has betrayed the sect, and publicly regards all cultivation sects as enemy! Yunmeng Jiang Sect hereby expels him, breaking all ties with him and drawing a clear line between us. Henceforth, no matter what this person does, it will have nothing to do with Yunmeng Jiang Sect!”

(Modao Zushi Radio Drama, Season 3 Episode 5, Suibian Subs)

Naturally, no one ever questions this or wants to hear Wei Wuxian’s side of the story. Jiang Cheng is a sect leader and Wei Wuxian his servant, and that is all cultivation society needs to know.

In Conclusion

Wei Wuxian was never really part of the Jiang family. The wider social view was that he was a servant who was lucky to be taken in by the family and allowed to live in the main house alongside the sect leader’s children. He’s accepted into cultivation society conditionally, but only as someone who remains a rank below everyone else.

This attitude isn’t just the wider social view which the family themselves disregard; they all play into it. Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Cheng both actively enforce it, Jiang Fengmian passively enforces it, and Jiang Yanli tries but fails to break through the social barriers between them.

[myherowritings]

PART 1. A VERY WELL-DESERVED TIP

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 2.0k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. none in this chapter

A/N. my brief work as a barista is finally paying off. i suffered at sbux all to write this fic ✌︎('ω'✌︎ ) LMAOOO i frl had so much fun writing this and i’m very excited to share the next parts ;) i hope you enjoy this fic as much as i do!! xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

© myherowritings — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, copying, or translating of any kind is not allowed. do not read my writing as asmr. do not plagiarize.

You were not looking forward to your new work schedule for the next month. 

The employee who usually came in for opening shifts at four in the morning gave her two weeks notice...two weeks ago. And since you had your availability open (you knew you should’ve blocked it off and said you had morning class), your manager asked you to fill her place. 

The night before your first—of many—morning shifts, you tried tricking yourself into thinking it was a good idea. And it almost worked! Sort of. 

You told yourself waking up early when the sun rose worked with your body’s natural circadian rhythm and this experience may adjust your sleep schedule for a healthier one in the long run. Better health and wellbeing and lower risks of cardiovascular disease. Or something. You weren’t too sure exactly; you never paid much attention in biology but it sounded like something you’d find in a textbook, right?

When you arrived on your first day, the morning shift was just as hectic and chaotic as you expected. People in business suits with name brand bluetooth earphones in their ears and the latest new smartphone in their hand filled the shop and waited for their online order. It was as if they wanted the least amount of social interaction possible, which would be fine if being able to make connections with customers wasn’t the most interesting part about being a barista. 

Although the cafe you worked at was a small business who actually (tried) to pay their employees fairly and wasn’t a purely money hungry franchise like the certain green siren, it surprisingly had gained enough traction in the area to rival one of those cheap, chain stores. 

Good for the business, bad for sleepy workers who could barely function in the mornings.

But you enjoyed working here and the owners were kind, so you did your best to shove away the tiredness and put a bright and cheery smile on your face. The customers were grumpier than you were used to, but who wouldn’t be a little ill-mannered having to go to work at 5 a.m. and probably not leaving until 6 p.m. or later because of bosses who overworked them? Trying to get them their morning coffee with an amiable attitude to start off their day right was something you were more than happy to do. 

It was too bad barely any of them gave you the time of day. They just wanted to get their caffeine and leave with as little human interaction as possible. It was understandable, of course, but it wasn’t the lively cafe environment you were used to during later shifts. You sighed, hoping the atmosphere would be friendlier when it wasn’t a major rush hour. 

“Hi! I can help the next person in line,” you called for the twentieth time this hour. When they moved forward towards the cash register, you gave them a smile. “Good morning. I hope your day has been going well!”

“It’s been okay, thank you. And yours?”

Your eyes widened in surprise and you almost sputtered over thin air. Someone who actually replied back to what you said and asked about you in return? Even if the intent was a courtesy conversation that was meant to be quick and brief, the sentiment was there—the upholding of the values of common courtesy and human decency. Something too many people seemed to lack. 

“I’m good as well! A little tired but what’s to be expected a quarter ‘til 6 a.m.?” you said with a laugh. “Thank you for asking.”

The customer gave a small smile in return and you internally celebrated for finally seeing your first pleasant expression this morning. “Must be even more tiring dealing with all these people. Doesn’t seem easy. I have to commend you for it.”

He was a tall, handsome man with a pretty face, soft-looking hair, and genuinely nice? There was no way this was real; you had to be dreaming. 

You twiddled with the pen in your hands, taken aback and mildly embarrassed by the praise. “Just doing my job,” you said with a bashful look. “Thank you, though.” You cleared your throat, not wanting to hold the line up for too long, even if the customer was one you would rather keep talking to than the others. “Now, what can I get started for you today?”

“Right. Can I get a flat white in the medium size?” 

“Of course.” You typed in his order into the register before asking, “And is there anything else I can get for you? Like a pastry? Today we have some freshly baked cheese danishes that are really yummy if you’d like to try!” 

He thought for a while before shrugging. You weren’t sure if it was your eyes playing tricks on you or he actually had an amused look on his face. “Sure, I’ll take a couple dozen of those as well.” 

“A couple dozen—?” your voice faltered. The suggestion of a fresh pastry was one you made to almost every customer, though most turned it down on the spot. 

The cafe had a little weekly competition between workers to see who could sell the most pastries in the week and the one who sold most got...well, a free pastry and bragging rights. Admittedly, it wasn’t much, but nothing revved up sales like friendly rivalries. An order of a couple dozen was sure to land you in the top spot this week! Still, you had to make sure he meant it. You’d feel bad if he was just spending all his hard-earned office work money because he was trying to be courteous. (Or at least, you assumed he was some office employee.) 

You cautiously asked, “Are you sure?”

Either your eyes were playing tricks on you yet again, or the look of amusement on his face grew even more than before as he said, “I’m sure. One medium flat white and, say, three dozen boxes of cheese danishes, please.” 

“C-Coming right up!” you said, quickly entering his order and celebrating your free end-of-the-week pastry in advance. “That will be $42.81. Would that be card or cash?” 

“Card.” He pulled out a sleek, black card with gold detailings on it and you never knew you could be sexually attracted to a credit card until now. 

“Perfect! Go ahead and swipe, insert, or scan your card now. In the meantime, can I get a name for your order please?” 

He scanned his card over the machine before looking back up at you. “It’s To— Ah, Shouto.” 

“Shouto?” you asked in confirmation. You assumed it wasn’t ‘Toahshouto’. That sounded too much like the abbreviation used to remember how to find sine, cosine, and tangent.

“Yeah. Shouto.” 

You smiled. “Well, Shouto, your order will be ready in a few minutes. Please wait over to your right to pick it up!”

He nodded. 

“It was nice meeting you!” you called, waving goodbye. “I hope you have a good rest of your day.”

“Thank you,” he glanced at your nametag, “Y/N.” 

Oh, how nice it felt to be treated like a human by a customer and have them actually address your name— And not to say it in a condescending way either. 

“Do individual baristas get to keep the tips here?”

You blinked, feeling your face warm up slightly. “We do, actually.” One of your favorite parts of the job, you had to admit. 

“Glad to hear.” Shouto pulled out some crisp-looking bills from his wallet and placed one in your hand that said ‘100’ to you. “Thank you for your kind service, Y/N.” 

“Wha—” Your eyes widened. You were expecting something along the line of three dollars. Maybe five at most. But a hundred? By the time you had processed what had happened he was walking away from the cash register. “Wait— Shouto...sir! I think you accidentally gave me the wrong amount.” 

He shook his head, only briefly turning back to face you. “Nope. It’s for you,” he said simply. “I’m looking forward to the cheese danishes.” 

His words left you stunned, but the next customer in line tapped their foot impatiently, signaling it was now time for you to take their order. You hoped the line died down before Shouto left the cafe so you could return the tip, but seeing as how the queue almost extended out the door, you had the sinking feeling that wouldn’t be a possibility. 

“Hello, I can take the next customer in line!” you recited cheerfully, mind still occupied by thoughts of your last encounter. 

The next few orders went along uneventfully (though you did manage to sell two more cheese danishes) and by the time Shouto got his coffee and pastry boxes, you still had a handful more customers to get through. 

“Pardon me real quick,” you said apologetically to the woman in front of you. “Please give me one moment?” 

She graced you with a nod and you thanked the stars above for an understanding patron. 

“Wait— Excuse me, sir!” You waved in Shouto’s direction before he could exit the cafe. He glanced at you curiously but walked over. In a hushed voice, you said, “I really appreciate the tip, but there’s no way I could accept this much money from you!” 

For the first time today, you say the hints of a frown on his face. “You cannot?” 

“No! $100 is a lot! You already bought $40 worth of cheese danish pastries— Are you sure you meant to give that big of a tip?”

“Of course.” He took a sip of his coffee with a satisfied hum. “You getting up at such an early hour to take people’s orders with a kind attitude isn’t easy. Plus, trying to build rapport with each of them all while keeping the interacting swift is a difficult task itself. And it’s probably worth more than your current pay, the $100 tip, and then some.” 

You blinked, stunned by his words. This man kept surprising you so many times in just one morning. 

“I find it ridiculous how certain occupations are paid an ungodly amount more than others, especially when a lot of it comes from privileges you were born into.” Shouto seemed to mumble the last bit to himself, but you were still able to understand what he said. “It’s bullshit.” Before you could respond, he recollected himself. “Eat the rich, right? All that to say, please accept the tip. You deserve it. And I promise it’s of no detriment to me, so please don’t feel bad.”

Seeing the determined look on his face, you couldn’t help but stare at him before nodding. He didn’t say anything you didn’t already believe yourself, and if someone really wanted to give you $100, you weren’t going to fight them on it. Think of all the dumplings you could buy, you told yourself.

“T-Thank you then.” You gingerly placed the folded bill back into your pants pocket. “I think that was really insightful of you and I’m very grateful.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled before glancing towards the exit. “I’m running a bit late for work now, so I should be going. Have a good day, Y/N.”

“You too, Shouto. And… Thank you again!”

With a glowing expression on your face, you walked back to the cash register ready to face the day and talk to more lovely customers!

“Hey, little barista!” a gruff voice called from the line, snapping you out of your stupor. “Hurry it up already before you force me to complain to your manager.” 

You internally sighed. You understood they were in a rush, but they still had no right to be that rude. 

“Can you even hear me? Or are you too incompetent?”

Cue another internal sigh. 

Yeah, okay. Maybe you did deserve this $100 tip.

Regardless of the rude customers that may have come in, at least you had your thoughts of a cute, kind businessman who went by the name of Shouto to get you through your shift. And you could only hope you’d be able to see him again.

a/n: the end of part one folks!! oh what i’d give to have gotten a tip like this when i worked as a barista BAHAHA only in my dreams. i hope you enjoyed this little intro part and are excited for what’s to come !! :3

what to expect in the next part:

~maybe~ y/n will see shouto again and,,perhaps,,get more tips from him idk who knows 

old lady imparts some...helpful(?) advice 

we briefly get to see shouto’s pov! ;D

[flickeringart]

Planets in the 8th House

Like all the watery houses, the 8th house is mysterious and potent, yet it’s difficult to fully get a grasp of. The area of life that this house represents are usually summarized by worn out key words; death, transformation, regeneration, rebirth, sex, shared finances, the occult, hidden complexes, power struggles, trauma, crisis and the list goes on… from these words one gathers that the 8th is not a light-hearted sphere of life – it signifies struggle and emotional intensity. Having planets in the 8th, strong Pluto or Scorpio influence usually revolves around the same themes – paranoia, the striving for control and a tendency to keep things private and buried in order to sustain power.

I’m not going to discuss the difference of having strong Scorpio-Pluto placements vs. having planets in the 8th house in this post, but since the sign, planet and house are linked and are symbolic of the same themes, there’s a lot of overlap that is to be expected.

A person with planet(s) in the 8th will not act out the planetary principles consciously. Usually, the energy is felt through their aura, quiet but evident, as if the planet makes its presence known without revealing itself. For example, someone with Venus in the 8th might not openly declare affection and love, except in the most intimate of settings, but it’s unquestionably there. Picture the goddess of love living within a person as a body of water. She is there, but she is slippery and unable to manifest through conscious expression in daily life. The reason for planets in the 8th house “hiding” usually has something to do with fear of losing control, of exposing something taboo and risky that could have dire consequences.  We see this phenomenon in movies all the time – a person isn’t conscious of the fact the he or she is in love with a person but it’s obvious to everyone else – this would be typical of Venus in the 8th. One doesn’t dare to express it because it would alter the way of things, it would violate the sense of self-control and expose one’s vulnerability. Pain accompanies planets in the 8th, however benefic, because they impose themselves on the person and puts everything on the line. It’s a little bit like opening Pandora’s box – one can never go back to how things were before one fell in love, yet one resists the power with which one is pulled into a relationship. Even Venus and Jupiter, the most “positive” planets are operating in a way that makes the person feel out of control. Sure, it’s probably more positive to be invaded by love and abundance than anything else, but it can still be shocking and fearful to a person that doesn’t want to acknowledge the autonomy of the planet and has put up rigid defenses against it, only to have them be shattered. In the case of Venus in the 8th, personal love and affection is very private and usually has some kind of trauma or complex tied up with it. Looking at astrotheme’s database of people with Venus in the 8th , Miley Cyrus pops up at the top of the page with this placement. In some of her more personal songs, lyrics hint to her being afraid of love and intimacy. Even in her famous song “Wrecking Ball” she sings about falling under love’s spell and slowly seeing a relationship turn to “ashes on the ground”. If this isn’t typical symbolism of transformation through love I don’t know what is.

With the Moon in the 8th house, the person doesn’t openly express emotion – the emotions erupt volcanically from time to time, and it’s very uncomfortable for the person because there’s a feeling of being exposed and threatened that accompanies this release. Because of the fear that is tied up with emotion, the person might show dislike and defensiveness when faced with other people’s emotional expressions and needs. Sigmund Freud had his Moon in the 8th, which is very telling. He was obviously interested in uncovering the complexes behind certain reactions, presumably because he didn’t feel himself to be in control of his own emotions and inner life. He was certainly motivated to transform and free himself and his clients of the tight grip of the unconscious patterns of the 8th house. He explored the underlying mechanisms of repression, formulated the Oedipus complex and postulated the existence of libido – sexual energy with which the mental processes are invested. The Moon’s placement in the 8th would point to deeply rooted emotional and possibly sexual ties with the mother. The Oedipus complex is after all a desire for sexual involvement with the opposite sex and the presence of repressed incestuous instincts. Freud noted that he had wanted to marry his mother as a child to rival with the father and understood that it must be a universal principle among all boys in all cultures. This has not been thoroughly empirically proven, but it’s certainly reveals something about Freud’s own psychology. In any case with Moon in the 8th, the emotional and instinctual nature is accompanied with a sense of it being taboo and shameful. The emotional nature is experienced to be powerful beyond personal control.

Mercury in the 8th is a another story. Mercury is the planet of communication, thinking and deductive reasoning. When looking up people with this placement, it seems to me that it is common among people who speak up about uncomfortable topics, that which would be considered “risky business” to talk about. Prince Harry has this placement and he has been very open recently about his mental health struggles. Emma Watson has this placement and she has been an advocate for feminism and equality – preaching and advocating strongly with emotional investment when giving the famous UN speech in 2014. Lana Del Rey has this placement and she writes lyrics based on her own personal experiences, not shying away from dark topics like death, heartbreak, destructive and passionate relationships. It seems as if Mercury in this house gives the person a propensity for talking and thinking about that which in uncomfortable, for revealing difficult power-imbalances and dynamics taking place within the psyche. There’s usually a feeling of being cautious of what one reveals, of sitting on information that holds emotional power and that involves other people. With any planet in this house there’s a strong impulse to be aware of other people, in case of Mercury it’s what other people know and don’t know, what they say and don’t say. Mercury in the 8th might be indicative of a person who is controlled by what other people say and feels at the mercy of other people’s opinions – positively and negatively. The narratives and stories of other people might merge with the person on a deep level and fuel one’s own opinions. One might be exposed to challenging, discriminative and harmful opinions, even indoctrinated in them. When speaking one’s mind, one might have to summon a lot of bravery because more than likely there’s a bit of a chokehold that is being felt and effort that is required to break free from deeply instilled thought patterns. This placement could be indicative of a person that likes to think and communicate about deep and taboo topics, reveal and keep secrets.

With Mars in the 8th, one simple interpretation would be “someone who is prone to experience physical violence in intimate relationships”. Either one is the victim of it or the perpetrator, perhaps even a bystander or a protector. The violence, albeit linked to physical action, might just manifest in the form of acting without another’s best interest in mind. There’s usually a sense of being at the mercy of other people’s actions with this placement, but also of having no conscious control over one’s own motivations for doing things, one’s own drive to make things happen. Princess Diana had this placement, conjunct Pluto-Uranus, and she was far from feeling in absolute control of her direction in life. With Pluto-Mars the drive is buried and tied up with the primal survival instinct and latent rage. Her relationship with Prince Charles was anything but smooth and she felt like a victim to greater forces (Pluto-Uranus) making her act in a way that was, most certainly, driven by emotional complexes and not out of conscious will. She also behaved in a way with her compulsive eating and independent streak that was not favorably looked upon. J.F. Kennedy also had this placement, he too had difficulties on the relationship front, mostly because he had a compulsive sexual drive and had a lot of extramarital affairs. This is typical of Mars in the 8th being tied up with emotional complexes – he couldn’t stick to his wife; he had to prove himself and his masculinity through conquering women (he has Jupiter conjunct his Mars and we all know how faithful Jupiter was in mythology). His sexual appetite caused moral problems among the Secret Service agents who were employed to smuggle women in and out of the White House. His behavior was altogether inappropriate but somehow he survived politically as it was kept in the shadows. Diana certainly had her own extramarital affairs as well, perhaps to revenge Charles for his strong tie with Camilla and subsequent declining interest in their marriage. Mars in the 8th is undoubtedly indicative of action taken out of the need to retain emotional integrity, sometimes with unfavorable consequences. Notably, both Diana and J.F. Kennedy died suddenly, Diana in a car accident and J.F. Kennedy through assassination by a bullet. The 8th house is the house of death, and Mars here usually indicates a violent and sudden strike of “fate”.

Last but not least, let’s take a look at the Sun in the 8th house. The same people who shows up when searching for Mercury, Mars and even Venus, also have the Sun in this house; J.F. Kennedy, Lana Del Rey, Emma Watson and Prince Harry, which is not surprising considering that the inner planets never stray too far from the Sun. The Sun represents the ego, the sense of self-knowledge and self-awareness. The Sun is representative of the conscious center of the personality. This suggests that the people with this placement are painfully aware of death and violation, of the destructive nature of reality. While the Moon in the 8th might indicate that emotional reactions or lack thereof stem from deep seated autonomous complexes rooted in survival, the Sun might indicate a sense of self and self-expression that stems from the difficulties and hardships one has gone through. This placement can be understood in the sentiment “who am I without my trauma?”. There’s the tendency to identify with the ordeals of one’s life and how one overcame them (or didn’t). This dynamic is evident in all the people listed at the top of this paragraph. Prince Harry being a very obvious one that people make fun of nowadays – he’s coming out as a survivor of past down ancestral trauma, attempting to work through and shine a light on his personal struggles growing up within the Royal Family, attempting to separate himself from the curses of unconscious programming. Lana Del Rey certainly enjoys identifying and expressing the darker side of herself, illuminating the theme of death and emotional hardship in her songs. Emma Watson also seems to identify with the hurt and injustice present in the world and is a spokesperson for collective movements (Sun in the 8th, Leo in the 11th). J.F. Kennedy has the same Sun –Leo house setup as Emma, channeling his experience of personal hardships into his career and public life. In a sense, people who want to appeal to the masses and make a change on a large scale must be personally invested enough to fuel the movement. In the case of the 8th house being involved with Kennedy and Watson, they might feel as if their sense of self is dictated by other people’s values or that they would have to fight to remain in control of their sense of self. As the Sun relates to the father, the father figure might’ve been quite controlling, demanding and dominant. If the Moon in the 8thsays something about a mother complex, the Sun in the 8thdefinitely says something about a father complex.

[floralseokjin]

⤑ made-up love song x (m).

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher, never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago, and you’re unable to remember the last time you dated. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire. 

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader   au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, romance, happy ending, jin has stubble lmao, smut; morning sex, oral sex (f receiving), soft sex, spooning, jin has a thing for boobs this saturday morn, everything gets so fluffy  words; 6,243

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii  • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

When you heard the doorbell ring twenty-five minutes later you were up off the sofa in seconds, heart thrumming against your ribcage as you rushed towards the entryway, a nervous kind of excitement flurrying inside your stomach. Yanking the door open, you were unable to keep the smile from your face as you saw Seokjin stood in front of you. He was dressed in sweatpants and a baggy white t-shirt which was slightly creased. His hair must have been freshly washed, soft and fluffy on top of his head, but it looked like he hadn’t shaved in a while, hints of stubble growing along his upper lip and along his jawline. 

“Hi.” You were grinning by now. 

“Hi,” he murmured softly, stepping forward. Immediately you found yourself in his embrace, the familiar scent of his laundry detergent welcoming. You wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing the side of your face to his chest. You felt still, relaxed for the first time in days. 

Kissing the top of your head as he pulled away, he took your hands and let out a small chuckle. “I was halfway here when I realised I still had my slippers on.” 

You looked down at his feet, giggling as you spotted the blue slip ons. Linking your fingers with his, you gently tugged him forward. “Do you want head to the living room?”

He nodded, letting you lead the way, and you paused by the kitchen, turning back. “Want something to drink?”

“Water, if it isn’t any trouble.” He asked. Classic Seokjin, you thought to yourself, leaving him to sit, too polite for no reason. When you came back, handing him the drinking glass he smiled and said his thanks. You sat next to him watching him take a sip and lean over to place the glass on the coffee table. You didn’t know where to start, you had so much to say, but it seemed like he had been thinking his piece over in the car ride here. 

Exhaling, he turned to you with a serious expression. “Just before you say what you need to, I want to apologise.” He paused, seeing if you would let him continue, when you didn’t object he reached for your hand. “I’m really sorry for the way I acted Sunday. It was unacceptable and I’m really embarrassed you had to see me like that.” He sighed then, “I was just so... I was so mad that Nana turned up and spoke to you like she did. I let all my frustrations regarding Arin take over too.” He was staring you straight in the eyes, eager to make you see how sincere he was. “I never meant to compare you both and I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.” 

“Everyone gets angry, Seokjin. Don’t feel embarrassed because of that,” you told him. “It was just jarring to see. Plus it was all so overwhelming.” He nodded in understanding and you smiled and squeezed his hand. “I appreciate your apology regarding the comparisons though.” What was done was done, but he sounded regretful. “Have you spoken to Nana since?” 

“Yeah,” he murmured, averting his gaze for a split second. He sounded remorseful. “I saw her yesterday afternoon. She wanted to be with Arin this weekend so I finished work early and drove her there. Nana…” He stopped himself and started again. “I know why she was so hurt over everything. We talked it out a little. Barely touched the surface but things are headed in the right direction. I apologised to her.” 

“That’s good to hear,” you said. There was no good only apologising to you. Nana deserved an apology just as much, maybe even more. You were glad they’d managed to be civil and you hoped it was a step in the right direction. 

“I know Arin missed school but I called Principal Jung.” Seokjin was eager to explain himself. “I didn’t go into details of course, but he said it was okay.” 

“That’s fine,” you chuckled quietly. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. It was only one day.” How cute. You didn��t take your job that seriously. At least the mystery was solved though. You had stressed over nothing. He wanted nothing more than for Arin to see her mother, regardless of what his relationship with Nana was like. This extra weekend together meant a lot to not only Arin and Nana, but him too. Harsh words had been shared in frustration and anger, but he hadn’t lost sight of what mattered the most – his daughter. 

“I’m glad you talked to Nana,” you smiled, unsure how to voice all your thoughts. What mattered was he’d seen the error of his ways, and hopefully Nana had too. 

He nodded sternly. “I was out of order that day.” 

You grew serious too, hesitating before you said his name. You knew you had to ask him, knew you had to have this conversation, but it didn’t stop you from feeling slightly afraid. “Seokjin, why didn’t you tell her about us?” 

He closed his eyes briefly, shame written all over his face, and he let go of your hand to run a hand through his hair. It draped across his forehead instantly. “I made a mistake.” He was looking straight into your eyes again, chocolate irises pooling with genuine regret. “At first I didn’t know what would happen between us. It was all brand new for me – for you. Letting Nana know was the last thing on my mind, but as things got more serious, I just…” He faltered, gaze falling to his lap. “I didn’t want to burst the bubble. I was so happy. I didn’t want anything to potentially ruin it. 

“It was stupid, considering Arin could tell her at any moment. I just wasn’t thinking, I was being selfish. I understand why Nana was so hurt. I would feel the same if I found out Arin had been spending time with a man I didn’t know.” He exhaled deeply. “I took it all to heart because deep down I knew I’d done wrong.” 

You appreciated his honesty. “We were definitely in a bubble. I never even thought to ask if you’d let her know. I –”

“It’s not your fault.” He was quick to tell you. “It was my responsibility and I didn’t want to do it. I regret it now and I’ve told her that. I’m sorry to you too, it wasn’t my intention to keep you a secret.” 

You were quiet then, unsure what to say. You still had questions, still had things you needed to understand and as if he read your mind, he placed a gentle hand on your knee, tilting his head to watch you. “Y/N, is there anything else you want to know?” 

Your fingers picked at your pyjama pants, heart beating rapidly. There was one important thing you needed the answer to, it was a dumb question, you were nearly positive, but yet you knew you needed to ask it. 

“Anything you want to ask, I’ll be 100% honest with you.” He gently nudged, sensing your reluctance. 

“T-this may seem stupid,” you began, finding courage. He was Seokjin, your Seokjin, he wouldn’t judge you. However, you hoped what you had to say wouldn’t hurt him. He waited patiently for you to continue. You held his gaze. “You’re not just looking for a mother figure for Arin, are you?”

His forehead crinkled in confusion, his hand leaving your knee as he processed your words. “What do you mean?”

You felt a wave of panic. “I know it sounds stupid, but I just need to know if you like me for me.”

He watched you carefully, brow line now creasing in concern. “Of course I like you for you.” And then he took your hand, lacing his warm fingers between yours. You could see the concentration on his face as he tried to find a way to word his thoughts. “I’m not looking for a mother figure, I never was. Yes, I’d love it if Arin saw her mother every day, but I’m not trying to recreate it elsewhere. I was wrong to compare you both. Nana loves Arin, I know that, she’s trying her best, and you’re…,” he took a breath, “I would never expect you to take on all that responsibility. You’re my girlfriend, I would never intentionally put all that pressure on to you.

“Y/N, I’m Arin’s father,” he continued when you didn’t reply. “She means the world to me, so knowing that she adores you makes me happy, as does knowing you adore her. I always thought dating in my position would be really hard – that’s why I never did it. Having to trust someone that much to potentially let them into my daughter’s life, that was such a frightening thought. But it wasn’t with you.” His eyes were wide, pleading as he tried to make you see. As he spoke he used his other hand to cup the side of your face, you softened into his touch. 

“There were other worries too,” he continued to confess. “I thought nobody would want a divorced dad as a boyfriend. It’s fine, I understand it’s not everyone’s ideal, but with you it was never a problem. You accepted me and what my life involved and I’m not going to lie, that made me fall for you even harder but I wasn’t using you because I wanted some sort of permanent mother figure in Arin’s life. That’s absurd and it makes me really sad to know I potentially made you feel that way.” 

Your chest felt lighter hearing those words. Nothing like the tight, anxious mess you had felt all week. It was good to know your worst fears weren’t true. Your doubts, even though valid, hadn’t been needed. You believed every word he said. 

He lowered his hand from your face, sensing you were about to speak, and instead clutched the hands laced together in your lap. “Hearing those things you said to Nana, it made me… It overwhelmed me. Made me think that you’d been expecting too much of me this whole time, or like maybe you’d been searching for something I had no clue about.” You admitted.

You hadn’t liked being used as a weapon. It had made you feel horrifically guilty. You told him just as much, being as frank as you possibly could because he needed to hear it. 

“I understand,” he nodded. “I promise I’ll never do it again. All I can give you is my word.” 

“And I’ll believe it.” You told him, needing him to know something else as well. “Seokjin, I really do care about Arin. I’m beyond touched that she’s accepted me into her life but my place will always be different.” 

Seokjin frowned at that. “You are still an amazing person in her life though. She’s become so much happier these past few months and I can’t deny it and say that’s not partially down to you, even if it’s just a fraction of the reason.” 

You opened your mouth to disagree with him, he was being too nice, giving you too much credit, but he wasn’t having any of it. “No, Y/N. You need to hear these things. You make Arin happy too, and I think that’s a beautiful thing.” He felt you relax, smiling when he noticed you do the same. “I fell for you because of many reasons, and yes, one of them was because of how you treat Arin, but it’s not the only one.” His voice was soft as he began to make a list. You couldn’t help but giggle. “You’re sweet, caring, funny, beautiful – inside and out.” 

“You’re a real charmer, hm,” you teased.

He chuckled, but grew serious once again, giving your hand a squeeze. “You could have anybody but you chose me, the man whose life is overtaken by work and is struggling to be an OK dad.” 

“Seokjin, you’re an amazing father,” you scoffed. If he expected you to listen then he needed to as well. “You work so hard and you’re constantly exhausted but that doesn’t stop you from being one of the best fathers I know. You need to give yourself more credit.” 

“Thanks,” he said, plump lips tugging up into a half-smile. You really wanted to kiss him, it had been long enough, so you leaned forward, pressing your mouth to his. Gentle and chaste. When you pulled back he was smiling harder. You couldn’t help but join him. 

One of his hands lifted, weaving into your hair as he brought your face to his chest, the hand holding yours letting go so he could wrap his arm around your middle, holding you to him. You were both silent, content for a moment as you listened to his heart beat steadily. It comforted you, let you know that everything was okay. 

“I’m sorry if I put pressure on you,” he murmured, chin resting against your hair. “It’s just when the three of us are together it feels so right. It feels natural and I love that.” 

“I love it too,” you agreed, your face still pressed into his chest, your palm too. “But Nana is her mother and I don’t ever want to take her place.” You paused, slowly pulling away to look at him. “I want to make my own place. And I don’t know if that means being a stepmom so soon, but it’s definitely moving in that direction.” You’d had enough time to think about everything. You were more than serious about him. “I want a future with you, Seokjin. A future with you and Arin. You both mean a lot to me.” 

His mouth slowly spread into a grin, he looked and sounded unbelievably happy. “Do you mean that?” 

“Of course. I spent these past few days thinking really hard about us and what we were – what we are. I’m serious about us, and I hope you are too.” 

He pulled you into another hug, kissing your forehead. “I most definitely am, but we’ll take it at your pace,” he assured, “and Arin’s pace.” 

“And your pace,” you added, moving your head back to look at him, hands resting on his shoulders. “Nana’s too. She needs to be involved because no matter what, she’s still a part of your life.” 

It wasn’t about just you and Seokjin, you understood that now, and so did he. “I agree. I really think yesterday was a turning point for me and her. I want our relationship to be better for not just Arin, but you too. I hate that you had to witness all that.” 

“It’s okay, Seokjin. Please don’t beat yourself up about it.” He needed to let it go and move forward. You had already. 

“Listen, I, er, I’m…” He hesitated, serious once again. “I’m sorry for not telling you why we divorced.” 

Oh. In your happiness you’d actually forgotten about that. You waited for him to continue, wanting to hear what he had to say because it had been the source of some of your hurt. You rubbed his shoulders, wanting to encourage him as he struggled to find the words. 

“It’s complicated,” he started. “…Finding out Nana had been cheating on me was what triggered the divorce, but it had been over long before then. It’s… difficult to admit this out loud but for the longest time I was embarrassed. I couldn’t believe that she’d cheated on me – it was an ego thing. I didn’t care because I no longer loved her but at the same time it was mortifying and it made me very bitter.

“I didn’t tell you because you’d trusted me with your own story. I learned how cheating had affected you and my situation was completely different. I don’t know,” he sighed, unsure if he was making any sense. “I regret it now because I should have told you.” 

“I understand why you didn’t,” you said simply, attempting to process the huge chunk of information you’d just been given. “But I think, regardless of our different circumstances it still affected you in some way. There’s no right or wrong way to deal with being cheated on.” It had obviously left its mark if he was still bringing it up nearly three years later. 

He still wasn’t convinced. “But Nana was right, that’s why I got so angry. I couldn’t admit it to myself, not until this week. By sleeping with someone else she gave me a way out. I didn’t want to be the one who ended it because that would mean I was the reason for Arin’s broken home. To ease my conscience I could blame the breakdown of our marriage on her.” 

“Seokjin, that doesn’t make you a terrible human being. You need to let all that go,” you told him gently. “At the time you did what you thought was best for Arin. You thought by staying together it would give her a better life but it doesn’t work like that and you’ve realised that now.” 

You didn’t want to stick your nose in business that wasn’t yours, but you understood what had happened. By staying together they had become increasingly bitter towards one another and the result was still ongoing. There had been a lot of hurt and that would take some time getting over. 

You noticed the slight nod he gave you, a silent agreement. The sooner he accepted his mistakes the easier it would be to forgive himself. “I still should have you,” he whispered.

“That’s not important anymore,” you insisted. 

“It is.” He clutched your waist, his eyes glassy. “You shared so much with me about how you got hurt, and I kept something big from you.” 

You gave him a reassuring smile. “Well, I know now.” You weren’t going to hold it against him, it had obviously been playing on his mind the entirety of your relationship. “That’s all that matters.”  

He relented, kissing you softly, just once, unable to help himself. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking too these past few days. I talked to my therapist. It’s been a while. I’ve just been so happy I didn’t need to until…” Trailing off he gave an embarrassed shrug. 

“That’s good you got back in contact with her.” He hadn’t actually spoken about his therapist since your first date and you’d never thought much about it, but it was great that he knew to seek help when he needed it. 

“We talked a couple of times about everything. It was helpful.” He rubbed your back with a soothing hand. “I really am sorry my relationship with Nana is like this. There’s a lot of bitterness and hurt left over from all the years we stayed together. Maybe the truth is we should have never gotten married in the first place. We brought out the worst in one another until in the end it turned to hate, but I can’t regret it because she gave me my world.” 

“Maybe realising all this is the next step for some type of closure,” you offered. He and Nana couldn’t keep this up. They needed to get along for Arin’s sake. They had to try and salvage some type of relationship if they wanted to continue co-parenting their daughter – their world. 

“I think you’re right,” he agreed. “Now that everything is out in the open I feel so much better.” 

“I’m glad.” You leaned in to kiss his cheek.  

“So,” he hummed, sounding a lot more like himself, “where do we go from here?” 

“I think we just carry on from where we left off.” As far as you were concerned everything had been resolved. All your questions and worries had been answered. You were both on the same page now and you could move on together. “When I was waiting for you to come back with that salad.”

“Sounds perfect.” He laughed, wasting no time with kissing you, properly this time, cupping your face to bring you closer. You settled in his lap soon after, his lips soft and warm, each glide of your tongues making you realise that all you wanted to do was be with him. Always. 

“There is one change I’d like to make though,” he murmured, pulling away gradually, kisses becoming gentle pecks until he had the will power to stop completely. “I was going to wait until I took you to Paris, but maybe grand gestures don’t mean shit after I thought I’d lost you.” 

Your heart flipped inside your chest just from the look he was giving you, the sheer determination in his eyes, and the way he cupped your face firmly. You thought you knew what was coming. 

“I love you.” 

You were still speechless for a moment though, but it was okay because he was still busy confessing. 

“I know it may seem too fast and I don’t want to scare you away but I’ve fallen head over heels in love with you these past few months. I can’t remember what my life was like before you appeared in it.” 

“I love you, too,” you gushed, coming to. “Of course you wouldn’t scare me away. Everything you just said, I feel exactly the same way.” 

“Really?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed. 

“It’s not too fast?” 

“Not at all,” you shook your head. You’d been worried it was at first, but you’d been upset and scared. Now everything was clear. “Actually, there’s no such thing because I’m in this 110%.” 

He chuckled then, brow line crinkling in the middle. “That sure?” 

“Mhmm,” you nodded enthusiastically, hands holding the back of your neck. “Thank you for reversing into my car.” 

That made him snort. “It’s no problem at all, but,” he leaned forward, tone serious, “I hate to break it to you, I’m in 1010%.” 

You rolled your eyes playfully, ignoring his goofiness to kiss him again. Although this time there was something you couldn’t ignore any longer. “Oh my god,” you complained, itching your lips. 

“What?” He was very obviously concerned. 

“Your stubble keeps pricking me!” You whined. “What is going on?” You cupped his face, getting a better look at the situation. He did look rather handsome with stubble, you admit, but you’d keep that to yourself. “A few days without me and you forget to shave.” 

He raised a dark eyebrow. “Isn’t that a thing? When you think you’ve lost the woman of your dreams you have to start growing out a beard, right?” 

You snorted lightly. “You’d be there for years trying to grow out that thing.” 

He tutted. “Rude.” 

“But what, say that again? I’m the woman of your dreams?” You teased, pressing for more. 

“I take it back now,” he scoffed. 

“You can’t! You’ve said it now.” 

“Shush,” he laughed. “Come here.” He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. “Stop talking and let me love you.” 

It took a single press of his lips for you to listen. 

.

.

You were slow and still sleepy when you awoke the next morning, gradually coming to, your eyes still closed. It was raining, you could hear the soft patter of it against the window as you became more aware, but you found it didn’t hinder the good mood you’d woken up in. Why would it? 

Finally opening your eyes, although with effort, a soft focus Seokjin came into view, already awake and leaning over you slightly. He smiled when you saw him, a hand caressing your hip. “Good morning, beautiful.” 

You smiled back, rolling into the side of his body, making the most of your sleepy state – and your boyfriend’s warmth. “How long have you been awake?” You asked with a small yawn. 

You didn’t actually remember falling asleep last night. After you’d made up (and you were done with all that kissing), you’d asked him to stay over. You’d laid in bed, wrapped up in one another as you talked about anything and everything before your eyes had started to get heavy, Seokjin’s voice and your own sounding distant in no time. And now you were here. 

“A few minutes,” he murmured, morning voice always an octave lower. It never stopped being sexy. You tangled your legs in his as he laid back down and realised his were now bare – he must have gotten too warm in the middle of the night. 

He cupped your face, wanting you to look at him. “I was using the time to admire you.” 

“Cheesy as always,” you chuckled. 

“Of course,” he agreed easily, leaning in to rub his nose against yours. “I woke up and thought last night might have been a dream.”  

“It wasn’t,” you whispered, getting lost in his eyes for a moment. 

“I love you.” 

With a soft groan you rolled onto your back. “Not fair, I was about to say that.” 

“Too bad,” he laughed, that deep morning chuckle you loved, wrapping his arm around your middle as he kissed your cheek. “You snooze you lose.” 

“I wasn’t snoozing.” 

“You were – and snoring. I heard you.” He was trailing kisses along your jaw now. 

“You didn’t!” You exclaimed. That was something you definitely did not do. “I don’t snore, take that back!” 

You attempted to wriggle out of his hold but he wasn’t having any of it, both of his hands beginning to tickle your sides. “Seokjin!” You shrieked, starting to thrust your legs but he rolled on top of you, caging your body easily. 

He stilled all movement and looked down, having way too much fun teasing you. “What?” 

Before you could even think to reply he was kissing you. Somewhere along the way last night you’d gotten used to the stubble, quite liking the tingle across your lips now, so you didn’t gripe this morning. Holding your face he trailed wet kisses down your throat, teeth gently sinking into your collarbone. You let out a gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pushed against his body, eager for more of his mouth. 

His hands soon began roaming your body, slipping under your pyjama shirt to caress your skin. His fingers delicately traced the underside of your breasts, lifting his head up to kiss your mouth once before he spoke his request. “Can I see you?”

You smiled and nodded, watching as he started to undo the buttons with expertise. When you were fully revealed he looked at you with a grin. “Woah,” he stated simply. 

“You’re acting like you’ve never seen them before,” you giggled. 

“I don’t know, I’m pretty sure they’ve gotten bigger.” He mused, weighing your breasts in his hands. 

You snorted, mouth dropping open when he captured one of your nipples between his lips. His used his hand to palm the other breast, pinching the nipple with his fingers and you moaned, arching into his touch. Against your crotch you could feel him growing hard – rapidly. 

“Take this off,” you urged, tugging at his t-shirt. Your need for him was rising too, breathing becoming unsteady as Seokjin kneeled upright and ripped the piece of clothing off. You sat up, running your hands across the muscular swell of his chest. “Yup,” you nodded to yourself, “definitely gotten bigger.” 

He chuckled quietly – shyly almost, and helped you take your shirt off, kissing across your shoulder as he eased you back against the pillows. Next, he got you out of your pyjama bottoms, kissing his way back up your stomach and between the valley of your breasts as his hand slid between your legs, rubbing you above your underwear. Squirming, warmth flooding you as his mouth found yours, your tongues mashing together in haste, your arms wrapped around him, holding him tight. 

He slipped his hand inside your panties and loved what he found. “You’re so wet, honey,” he murmured, playfulness in his tone as he circled your clit with the pad of finger. His touch was so light it was unbearable and you whined, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. 

He circled your entrance next but didn’t enter, collecting your arousal to rub your clit again. You dug your foot into the mattress, raising your hips to get more. His dick was fully erect now, pressing into your thigh, but he was in no rush, fully devoted when it came to pleasuring you. Dragging your underwear down your thighs, you helped push them off entirely, reaching for him and pulling him into a kiss, although he didn’t stay at your mouth long, kissing across your chest and down your stomach until he met his destination. 

He didn’t get very far though, his hot breath making you wriggle about, thighs clamping around his head. “It tickles.” 

“Tickles?” He repeated in amusement, nosing your inner thigh. He kissed your bikini line, ignoring your feeble giggles. “I’m not trying to tickle you.” 

You held your breath as he placed a testing kiss against your centre, willing yourself not to squirm, but Seokjin took it slow, easing you into it, because your body had suddenly decided to turn hypersensitive in his absence. He continued to kiss your core, his tongue coming out to wash against you too, and soon enough you got used to the sensation. 

“Good?” He asked against your clit, the vibrations making you flutter. 

You nodded in reply, fingers of both hands reaching to tangle in his hair. He gave you a quick smile and then started to flick his tongue against the bundle of nerves rapidly, making your hips rise in shock as a moan drew from your throat. He gave you no time to recover, sucking on your clit now as he hummed in satisfaction. Body with a mind of its own, you spread your thighs, wanting to feel him even better. 

He got the hint, using his hands to plant your feet on his shoulders, legs bent at the knee to open you up even wider for him. He continued to suck you softly, the tip of his tongue flicking back and forth at the same time, the stimulation so glorious you were sure you had tears in your eyes. 

“Oh God, Seokjin,” you moaned as he pulled away abruptly, your head falling back against the pillow. You had been moments away from coming, you were almost positive. 

He moaned himself as he licked a strip up your centre, pushing your knees higher up your body, exposing your clit even more so this time when he rolled it between his lips your hips jerked around uncontrollably, the pleasure too much. You felt him ease off but begged him not to stop, sounding possessed. “No, don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”  

He continued, his eyes on you as he made your legs tremble and you dug your toes into his shoulders, clutching at his hair. “You gonna cum, baby?” He husked. You whined in reply, hips rolling into his face with desperateness. “Give it to me then.” He told you, once again suctioning his lips to your clit. 

Your eyes clenched shut as you concentrated on his tongue, panting loudly as the muscles in your gut tightened. Your release hit you seconds later, lifting your hips up with one last burst of energy as he continued to work his tongue against your thrumming clit, your orgasm crashing through you in waves as you cried out. It was amazing, almost euphoric if you wanted to be dramatic (you did), your whole body satisfied and warm. 

Seokjin tried to ride it out as long as possible, but soon you grew sensitive, your hands detaching themselves from his hair to fall limply to your side, chest rising and falling deeply as you tried to catch your breath. He wrapped his fingers around your ankles delicately and placed your legs down on the bed before hovering over your body. He was just as out of breath, your arousal smeared across his mouth and chin, and you kissed him greedily, wanting nothing more. You could feel him rutting against you, attempting to gain just a little bit of relief, and taking pity on him you  cupped his erection over his underwear, giving him a squeeze. He groaned at the sensation, breaking away from your mouth. 

You started to rub him as best you could as he kneeled between your legs, watching your hand at work. He chuckled in disbelief. “You have me so hard, shit.” 

“That is my area of expertise,” you gloated, pulling his dick out of his boxer shorts. You ran your fist up and down it a few times, revelling in the smooth skin, thumb circling the head that was beading with precum. 

His patience was crazy this morning, enjoying the way you touched him so much he leaned in to kiss you again, panting quietly against your lips as you sped up your movements, dragging your thumb across his slit in a bid to spread his arousal. He hissed, jerking into your hand, and you just about lost it. You wanted him, no, needed him inside you. Right this instant. 

You looked him deep in the eyes, your noses practically touching as you gave him a squeeze. “Make love to me, Seokjin.” 

He broke then, unable to deny you or himself any longer. His underwear was gone in a flash, thick cock bobbing as he guided you onto your side, fitting in beside you perfectly. He wrapped his hand around your calf, lifting your leg over his to spread you out a little and then he angled the head of his cock at your entrance, kissing your shoulder as he slowly began to push inside you. 

You closed your eyes as you felt the drag, both of you groaning as he continued to fill you, his hand pushing one of your butt cheeks up a little so he could successfully bottom out. You stayed like that for a while, kissing one another, one of his arms hooked underneath your neck, hand cupping your chin, the other caressing your body, tracing across your stomach before softly cupping your breasts. The sensation had you sighing sweetly, pushing back into him and he couldn’t hold off any longer. 

He thrusted slowly, practically all the way out just to push back in, filling you up over and over. It was glorious, his rhythm eliciting moan after moan, especially as he played with your chest, rolling your hardened nipples between his fingers. You could hear yourself, how wet you were, and you rolled yourself onto your side more, pushing your ass into him in a bid to get more.

He got the message, speeding up as you reached behind and ran your fingers through his hair. He loved that, grunting as he spoke against your ear, “A little faster, baby?” 

All you could do was nod and respond with a garbled noise from somewhere deep within your throat, Seokjin’s thrusts gaining momentum as he started to pound against your ass, his laboured breathing blowing hot air against your cheek. One of his hands dug into the round of your ass, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he growled softly, thrusts purposeful, unrelenting. 

“Let me see your pretty face,” he panted after a few moments, pulling you into him and cupping your jaw. You twisted yourself, half flat to his sweaty chest as you spread your legs too, letting him thrust up into you. Your breasts jiggled with the force of his movements, his tongue pushing into your mouth, kiss sloppy and everything good. 

His breathing got heavier, his movements turning slightly sloppy as he adjusted your body once again so he could kiss and caress your breasts instead. A hand played with the left one as his mouth licked and sucked the right, grunts falling from his lips now as he quickly lost himself. His thrusts got harder and his teeth grazed against your nipple. When you cried out, he loved that, squeezing your boob roughly, tearing another sound from your throat as your walls clamped around him, gripping him for all he was worth. 

You knew he was done for when he sought your mouth again, chuckling huskily as you pecked kisses against his plump lips. You felt his dick pulse, thrusts messy as he chased his end, and then he stilled, groaning as his orgasm hit and he started spilling warmth inside of you. 

He wrapped his arms around you tightly once it was over, hugging you to his body with even more kisses, both of you panting softly, enjoying the come down. In fact, you didn’t want it to end. Gradually falling soft, he stayed buried inside you and made no attempts to slip out. If anything, he was damn determined to stay there for as long as possible it seemed. 

“I love you,” you told him sweetly, sweeping some of his hair out of his eyes, still engulfed by his heat. 

He smiled, practically goofy, still drunk off your lovemaking. “I love you too, of course.” 

And then it was back to kissing. 

You had a week’s worth to catch up on, and an entirety more to look forward to. 

*BONUS*

You (10:25am) Seokjin came over last night, we talked it out and made up 😊

Soojung (10:29am) Finally! ILY and I’m so happy for you best friend! But thanks for the heads up, I’ll be giving the house a wide berth this weekend See you Monday 😘

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021