#so i'll have to add that later

[thistaleisabloodyone]

Hm. Does anyone see a trend here?

[shartfinz]

let me help you

[chocolatecatcupcakecheese]

So apparently people didn't know that if you take long enough to find her, Orin shows up at your camp and pretends to be Gortash... So please enjoy the sultry sounds of Orin!Gortash getting horny about violence.

[balkanradfem]

So I was swimming the other day, and I noticed a male in a yellow shirt on the riverbank. I narrowed my eyes in suspicion, hoping he wouldn't notice me, the treacherous freak. But, he didn't even look towards the river; he hanged around a tree, and collected something from it. Then he went away. I blinked, and then looked twice at the tree and realized – it was the tree I planted. It was the peach tree I planted there 4 years ago. He was collecting peaches!

Somehow in all of my stress with medical issues and laptop and everything else I have going on, I had forgotten to check my peach tree to see if the peaches are ripe. But there it was, a proof that the peaches were not only ripe, but good, because someone came to the riverbank only to collect peaches, and only from that one tree. My peaches had to be good. I had planted a peach tree and now the local community has free peaches!

Incredibly happy, I went to check on the tree after I was done swimming; it's not a grafted peach, it grew from a wild seed, so peaches are small. Some ugnrafted peaches would grow bitter fruit, and I didn't know the flavour of this one. I found the tree covered in fruit, with a bunch of peaches on the ground; I opted to collect the ones on the ground, because they looked healthy and ripe. And then I tried one. It was perfect. Incredibly sweet and not a hint of bitterness.

I am so proud of my little peach tree, back when I planted her, she was my height, she was growing in my spot in the community garden, and I had to dig it out because we're not allowed to grow trees in the community garden. So I planted it in a public space, tied it to a big stick to protect it from the city maintenance crew which commonly cut down small trees, and made sure to water it for the first few months. Year after year I would pull out all of the flowers from the tree, because the branches were so weak, they would have broken if peaches grew on them! I've seen fruit trees break and fall because of this issue. This year was the first one I decided the tree was strong enough to hold fruit, and I let it all grow. None of the branches broke, and now we all can have peaches. People living in the area don't have to go to the store to get them! They can just walk on the riverbank and peaches are right there.

The riverbank has sour cherries, plums, walnuts, willows, lindens, and now peaches! What a wonderful way to live, planting fruit trees in public so people would have all kinds of fruit in the summer for free. I managed to help out! I was harvesting all the other stuff growing there and hoped I could contribute to the tradition. Yay peaches!

[canon-gabriel-quotes]

Transcript: No, you're not an icon.

You're not a slay queen or an e-boy.

*pause for dramatic effect*

You're a sinner.

Original post being referenced

Audio source (Twitch)

[blindmagdalena]

The Fall

2.8k mostly sfw homelander x reader. christmas adjacent. depowered homelander.

Summary: After being struck by an unidentified projectile that renders him powerless, Homelander crash lands in your backyard, wholly at your mercy.

this is a rework of this original prompt. inspired by the fable of the mouse that aids the lion whose paw has been stuck by a thorn.  ♡

Homelander is over a hundred feet in the air when he hears something whistling through the sky behind him. Some kind of projectile. A small missile, maybe. It's nothing he hasn't handled before: It could blow up in his face and he would be fine. He’s more curious about what exactly it is, who’s stupid enough to fire it at him, and where it’s coming from. 

With that in mind–in that split second he has to react–he decides to forgo dodging it and instead attempt to catch it.  However, as the mystery projectile gets nearer, his vision begins to tunnel. 

What the fuck? 

His reflexes slow, and before he knows it, the projectile strikes him hard in his left side rib, exploding in fumes that fill his lungs and coat his skin. In an instant, he feels pain like he's been turned inside out, a sensation worse than anything he’s felt since childhood. Instantly he's plummeting towards the ground, crashing directly into your backyard in an eruption of snow and yard furniture.

With his vision going black, the last thing he hears is the sound of the world turning deafeningly quiet.

When Homelander comes to, he's being shaken. No–compressed, hands over his chest, pushing again and again in a steady rhythm. Warm lips press against his, and a rush of air fills his lungs. His eyes snap open, and out of pure reflex, he drives his fist into your unfamiliar form, sitting up with a frenzied look in his eyes.

You should have flown back thirty feet with a hit like that. Instead, you only fell back onto your ass, coughing. Homelander's hands are shaking as he looks at them, and he can feel blood dripping from his ears, taste it in his mouth. He's disoriented, his whole body heavy. He's having trouble breathing, every ragged inhale a struggle, and his heart is pounding.

"Someone tried to kill me," he rasps in disbelief. Not surprised that someone tried, but that someone very nearly succeeded. "Someone... Someone tried to fucking kill me," he says again, growing more hysteric the more the pain sets in. His own brain is hammering against the confines of his skull, beating at the backs of his eyes.

He’s certain that he’s halfway to cardiac arrest, but no matter how he tries to focus, he can’t calm himself. His strength is gone. It’s gone. He looks at you, you, who should have a hole punched through your chest. Instead, you’re staggering to your feet, totally unharmed. 

"Homelander!" You address sharply, audibly trying to rein in your own bubbling panic. He can see his own fear reflected in your eyes. You’re just as confused as he is. Just a stupid little mouse that crawled out of your hole and found him like this. "I can help you, okay? Let me help you."

There’s something about the sharp authority in your voice mixed with an undeniable quiver of compassion that catches his attention. It could be the degree of his vulnerability sinking in, but after a second of dumbfounded staring, Homelander nods.

It must be pure adrenaline that gives you the strength to help him into your house. You don’t look like you should be able to carry him. He's practically dead weight in your arms, barely keeping himself on his feet as you both stumble into your living room. The height difference does neither of you any favors.

You get him down onto the couch before fetching a wet rag, a bottle of water, pills, and a first aid kit. He watches you fumble with it, hands shaking. He assumes it’s adrenaline, though you lack the acidic stench of it. No, you probably don’t. He just can’t smell it anymore. He can’t smell anything except the faint tinge of blood, and whatever nauseating scented candle you use to stink up your home. Though, even that’s distant compared to what he’s used to. However, he finds he doesn’t have it in him to panic. Is this what shock feels like?

He takes the water you offer him, but denies the pills. “No, no. I have no idea what that shit will do to me right now.” You nod, setting the bottle aside. You then lean over him, inspecting the level of damage. His ears are ringing, and his whole body is throbbing with sharp, painful aches. Maybe the pills would help, but he’s never had to take painkillers before. He’d rather swallow tacks than lean on something so pedestrian.

As you work, he notices a mottled mark blossoming darkly across the center of your chest, just under your collarbone, approximately the size of his fist. Without thinking, he reaches up to touch it, remembering the blow he’d dealt you.

You startle, looking down where he touches with a wince. The skin looks as tender as he feels. It must sting. Is he bruised like this beneath his suit? The thought of these same ugly dark marks mirrored on his own body brings him visceral disgust. 

"Don't worry about me," you tell him, as comforting as your voice can muster. You grasp his wrist and gently lay it back down at his side.

I'm not worried about you, he thinks derisively. "That should have caved in your chest."

"Guess it's my lucky day, then," you say absently, more focused on using a wet cloth to wipe away the blood from his temple, up into his hairline, seeking the injury. You're meticulous but gentle in the way you handle him, cupping the side of his face to turn him one way, then another.

If not for how clumsy your movements feel, he’d think you’ve done this before. There is care and determination in the way you tend to him, but no obvious medical expertise. Even the kit you pull from looks out of date and sparse. You probably picked it up from a gas station on a whim because you needed safety pins. "I think these need stitches," you say as you carefully apply bandages, brows furrowed. Homelander's gaze lingers on your lips as you speak. What kind of person sees someone fall out of the fucking sky, blowing a crater in their yard in the process, and then thinks to give them CPR?

"I'm calling an ambulance," you say, moving to stand. That breaks him out of his stupor. He catches you by the wrist, stopping you in your tracks, despite how pitifully weak his own grasp feels. "No, no, not... Don't do that," he says, screwing his eyes shut briefly. No one else can know that this happened. Besides, if those psychopaths are still out there, it will draw them right to him. "Too much attention, I just... give me a fucking minute," he says, flexing his hands. They still feel weak, tingling like they've fallen asleep, but the bizarre sensation is gradually beginning to abate.

Whatever was done to him, it doesn't seem to be permanent. 

He hopes to fuck that it isn’t. "Okay," you say tentatively. Instead of leaving, however, you reposition to continue wiping the blood from his face, gently rubbing from his temples down his jaw. He watches you like a hawk, rolling his fingers in and out of fists, gradually feeling his strength return to him.

He's unaccustomed to the way you're handling him. One hand cupping his jaw, ginger in the way you move his head only when you absolutely need to. The concern wrinkled between your brows is so palpable, so sincere, that for a moment he almost forgets you're strangers to each other.

"What're you doing?" He asks eventually, voice low. You pause, looking down to meet his eye. "Oh, I just... There's still blood, and I didn't want to leave you alone."

Your response tightens something in his chest, like a steel coil wrung too tight, leaving him uncomfortable. He feels small, vulnerable, and the tenderness of your touch is doing nothing for it. "I don't need you," he snaps defensively. "I'm fine."

"Okay," you respond, aggravatingly calm. Still soothing. "What do you need?" Homelander opens his mouth, but hesitates. Your earnestness is infuriating, waiting on bated breath for what you can do for him. He closes his mouth, jaw tight. His gaze flickers back down to the bruise on your chest. It's darker now, varying shades of purple and yellow fading into one another.

Looking back up at you, he schools his expression into calm focus. "Close the blinds," he says, gesturing with his head to the window, where you have twinkling white Christmas lights strung up. 

"I need to lay low awhile." He can feel his powers steadily returning. Once he gets back to Vought, he'll find out who it was, and rip out their fucking spine.

You've already gotten up to do as he asked, drawing the blinds down, and then closing the curtains over them. Afterwards, you turn to leave.

"Hey," Homelander calls, frowning. You stop in the doorway. "Where are you going?"

"The kitchen," you answer, hand on the doorframe. "You can call if you need something."

"Stay here," he says, ignoring the bit of petulance he can hear in his own voice. He doesn't care if you're confused. He doesn't care that he doesn't entirely understand himself. He just wants you to stay.

He watches you take a seat at the end of the couch, near his feet. He exhales, closing his eyes. It isn't as though you could do anything if proficient killers did appear, but for whatever reason, no matter how useless you would ultimately be, he feels better for having you near.

Even a curtain is better than no door at all.

After half an hour, his senses begin to sharpen again. It begins as a dull, irritating buzz at first. It has him rubbing at his ears, screwing his eyes shut. It rolls in and out of focus, making it difficult to adjust to. “Are you okay?” You ask from the other end of the couch, where you’ve been sitting with remarkable patience. Maybe you’re afraid of him. He hates not being able to tell by the rate of your heart.

“Peachy keen,” he replies flatly. “Hearing’s coming back.”

“That’s good,” you say, though the inflection you end with makes it sound more like a question.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s good, it’s just… Loud,” he says, grinding the heel of his palm into his temple. His skull is still pounding. “Everything’s all… Coming back in a jumble. Giving me a fucking headache,” he says, though as he speaks, he realizes he’s able to focus fairly well on the conversation, drowning out the more intrusive ambient sounds. “Keep talking.”

You look surprised by his demand, but after a beat, you oblige. After maybe an hour of idle conversation, he learns your name, that you work from home, you like decorating for Christmas even when you spend it alone, and that you've lived a thoroughly dull, ordinary little life until this very moment.

That’s just what you’ve told him.

From his personal observations, he's learned that you’re a perpetual fidgeter, that you touch your face when you're nervous, and that you would rather laugh than take any of his disparaging remarks about your mundane life to heart.

"I think it's lucky for you that I’m so boring. I might not have been here otherwise," you counter. Your smile is so inexplicably charming–nose wrinkled like you’ve somehow pulled a fast one on him–that Homelander forgets to refute your point. Instead, much to your alarm, he sits up.

"Oh, steady! Are you sure you're okay?" You ask, standing as he does, hands out as if to catch him. He stretches his hands out in front of him, and then curls his arms back in. Exhaling, his eyes flare crimson. He likes the way it makes your heart jump when he looks at you through the red glow.

His lips quirk, lasers fading out. "Good as new," he says confidently, though the aches of his fall still linger in his joints. Not quite new. He takes a few long strides across your living room, pausing in the doorway to your kitchen, where he can see through to your yard, and the absolute crater he left in it. "Vought will... take care of that," he says, gesturing vaguely to the destruction.

You can't help but laugh, crossing your arms loosely to survey the damage with him. "I appreciate it, but really, I'm just glad you're alright," you say honestly, staring out into the wreckage of your yard.

Homelander purses his lips slightly, glancing at you from his peripheral. Above him, he feels something brush the top of his head. When he glances up, what he sees hanging in the doorway makes him smile deviously.

Without warning, he puts his hands on your waist and spins you to him, lips landing warm and firm on yours. He absolutely devours the surprised little noise you make against him, halfway tempted to see what other sounds he can wring from you.

Your heart quickens to a race in his ears, and much to his delight, you kiss him back. You even surprise him by grabbing the back of his head with both hands, deepening the kiss of your own volition.

Not one to be out done, he adjusts his hold on you, one arm wrapping properly around your waist while the other slides up to cup the back of your neck, gloved fingers gently squeezing your bare skin.

To his delight, you retaliate with your tongue, slipping it between his lips and coaxing his forth.

Just full of surprises, little mouse.

Maybe you aren't so boring after all.

He meets you eagerly, exhaling a rough, excited little huff through his nose, dropping the hand at your waist to grab a cheeky squeeze full of your ass, wringing a soft moan from you that sends a bolt of heat straight to his cock.

When Homelander pulls back, you're flushed warmly all over. You smell of antiseptic wipes and peppermint, like Christmas in a hospital. It’s bizarrely appealing.

"What was that?" You ask, dazed.

"Mistletoe," he purrs, tipping his head back without taking his eyes off you, settling his hands back on your waist.

You look up slowly–taking a solid few seconds to process–and huff a gentle little laugh, nodding at the aforementioned ornament dangling above you. 

"Is this your way of saying thank you?" You manage to ask after swallowing back the lump in your throat, your shoulders relaxing, though your heart continues to gallop in your chest. "I hope you're still going to pay for my yard."

It's Homelander's turn to laugh. "Oh, no. I haven't even begun to say thank you yet," he assures you, hands lingering on your hips. 

The kiss had been pure unrestricted impulse, nothing he intended to follow through on. However, now that you're toying with the hair at the nape of his neck, your skin warm against his, your eyes half lidded, he’s not sure that he wants to let you go. Your lips shine where you’ve licked the taste of his from them. 

“I think for your good deeds, you’re owed a very merry Christmas,” he says, waggling his brows. 

You give a flustered, incredulous bark of laughter, covering your mouth as you look away from him, that flush of yours intensifying, making your whole body thrum warmly. You wouldn’t need to worry about keeping warm on these cold winter nights if he had his way with you.

“Okay, well, uhm, thank you for… for that thought,” you say, tripping over your words in a way you haven’t this entire encounter. “You hit your head pretty hard, though so maybe before you make any promises, we make sure you get checked out by an actual doctor,” you say, pushing lightly against his chest.

He maintains his hold for just a second longer, utterly immovable. It feels good to be himself again. He runs his tongue along his teeth, downright predatory in the way he stares down at you, but he does relinquish his hold.

“You should come with me to the tower. You know, now that you’re… Compromised,” he says, folding his hands behind his back. “Someone might come looking for me here. Interrogate you on my condition.”

Real fear flashes in your eyes at that. “Wait, you’re serious?”

“As a heart attack,” he gives back gravely.

“Uh… Okay. Uhm, let me… I’ll pack a bag,” you say nervously, stepping away from him to do just that.

“Okie-dokie,” he gives back simply, glancing around your home while he waits. He picks up an odd little gnome with a big red hat that covers everything but a little button nose, and a long white beard. Maybe he’ll convince you to bring along some of your festive decorations.

Merry Christmas to me, he thinks, already daydreaming about twisting the head off of whoever hit him with some kind of neutralizing agent.

He might thank them for the impromptu date while he’s at it.

[screwpinecaprice]

Anonymous Ko-fi request! 😁 Thank you very much for the ko-fi and for requesting this series!

(Prompts, ideas, and added polaroid border by anon!)

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

Was just going to do an edit of Yangchen, but then I decided add Kyoshi so I could have all three of "Girlies be suffering" trio~! uwu

[jemandthesingalongs]

man maaaan there really is. some kind of way the female characters get treated by the da fandom. like........most, if not all get put under some easily digestible label and that's where it stops....?

either they're thrown under "toxic wlw couples" (leliana) with no real nuanced discussion within that (or let's face it, wider context of the queer women in da and what that means) or "hashtag girlboss" (morrigan, leliana again, merrill, isabela) and flattening layers or outright ignoring flaws that make them compelling in an attempt to tilt the needle the other way from "constantly hated on" which...isn't better with characterization or just straight up called a cop (aveline, cassandra) or apologist (vivienne, wynne) and that's where it stops completely no room for watsonian views or god forbid meeting *any* of these characters on the level the game is set up in

there's other categories or just ones that don't fit (like sera and josephine) or fit into all or just...insert whatever here but it always really boils down to insert word here girl and moving on with no further thought given and it! frustrates! me!

[zukkaoru]

do you have any fave fics on like. any bsd female characters? like character exploration etc.

good fics centered on female characters are pretty hard to come by in the bsd fandom but i have compiled a list for you <3

if i am lost for a day by featherx THEEEE louisa fic of all time!! ft minor montcott, but mostly a louisa character study

the quintessential girlhood of yosano akiko by lizandre yosano character study, ft transfem yosano

we die alone, we'll all die young (what you care to die for?) by hannieuphoria gin character study, canon divergent au, mind the tags but ohh this fic is So Good

Morning glory by CureIcy kyouka-centric, ft. transfem kyouka

so temporary by justadino agatha christie x zelda, brief agatha character study, very good i love it

blue moon by ringingmaybelles kyouka-centric centering on platonic kyouka & atsushi

now i feel my stars align by thatwasanticlimactic higuchi-centric with black lizard found family and minor higugin

if i leave in the morning, don't be mad by paperkids lucygin no powers friends with benefits to lovers (there's no smut; it's rated t)

desert to ice floe (i will follow) by littencloud9 ranpo & yosano siblings fic (the focus is spread about evenly between yosano and ranpo)

Dreamhouse by halfpastmonsoon montcott with lucy being horror movie protagonist coded. as she should be <3

The Castles Garden by TheMidnightThief higugin royalty au fluff

forget-me-not by feralshadowdemon kouyou character study (haven't read this one myself but it was written by a beloved mutual whose other fics i love)

a butterfly in the country of spring by hail_hex yosano-centric, also haven't read this one but i've heard good things

and i'll add some of my own fics because why not!

beneath the candy-coated clouds higuchi/margaret florist x candy shop employee au

the wonder that we'll inspire  lucygin with gin adopting a lizard

with sweet understanding higuchi-centric valentine's day higugin

i'll hesitantly put my akutagawa siblings characters study fic here too since it has a lot of focus on gin, but with a disclaimer that gin is written as nb transmasc, and obviously there's focus on akutagawa as well since it's a study on both of them

[blusherbaker]

TWST Kink Headcanons: Octavinelle Edition

Minors/ageless blogs DNI; all characters are 18+ for these scenarios

Each character is given a short write-up of one of their main kinks, as well as a list of other kinks they may like (with a little more info added in some cases), and a list of things they would dislike.

Warnings: Smut, discussion/mention of multiple kinks of different varieties, including those related to D/s dynamics, bondage, feeding, etc.

<——« Savanaclaw

Azul: Voice kink

It doesn't really matter what your voice sounds like, Azul will absolutely melt simply by hearing your voice (or vocalizations) in the right context. Whether your voice is deep and gravelly, high and light, smooth, lilting, nasally, brassy, breathy, or any other colour / timbre, he will love it. And should you want to make Azul's hearts really race, just adding the slightest layer of a seductive tone to your speech will definitely do the trick.  It's also a good idea to talk to him - at length - while you're intimate with him. Hearing your voice will in equal parts calm him down, get him out of his head and into the moment, and make him very turned-on, especially if you add in even a little bit of dirty talk. Tell him what you want to do to him, or want him to do to you. Let him hear what you feel. And if a few little moans, or sighs, or whimpers happen to make appearances between your words, his arousal will simply go into overdrive. 

Other possible kinks: 

Submission

Domination (sometimes - like Riddle, he's a sub-leaning switch)

Bondage 

Cockwarming?

Lingerie

Dislikes: 

Degradation

Humiliation

Exhibitionism

Mirror sex

Jade: Shibari (and other types of bondage)

Jade appreciates so many things about the art of shibari. The trust, the power, the creativity, and the interplay, with you and him doing a sort of dance, are all things he would find appealing. He would love moulding your body into beautiful shapes ornamented and restrained with ropes (or perhaps ribbons, with the less restrictive binds) and watching your reactions during the entire process. And he loves the controlled unpredictability of it all. Each tie is never the exact same twice - changing even the littlest things, from the speed, to the tension of the rope, results in a completely novel experience each time. That is one of Jade’s favourite parts of shibari. Jade is also a patient man. He takes his time. And he will definitely want to do many, many different ties each and every session. Jade also makes sure things are absolutely perfect, in every aspect - he will have learned and practised the knots and ties before even considering bringing up the idea to you. Each session, he will have an entire routine planned out, his hands moving you smoothly from one position to the next, knotting then undoing the ropes over your body, likely for hours. But don't worry, he will make sure to take care of all your desires as well, you only need to ask him to. Jade will keep you waiting in anticipation, but he will never leave you unsatisfied.

Other possible kinks: 

Stuffing (mostly receiving)

Sadomasochism (he’s more of a sadist than a masochist, though)

Orgasm control

Marking

Dacryphilia

Dislikes: 

Exhibitionism?

Submission (most of the time)

Floyd: Sensation play

Floyd's kinks often shift and change, so you can be certain you'd never simply fall into a routine with him. He's always wanting to try something new, being a bit of an experimentalist at heart, but one thing that stays consistent in one form or another is his love of sensation play. Everything from gentle massages, to the sting of a paddle, to playing different genres of music, to feeding each other different combinations of flavours, to even using various types of lighting, Floyd has so much fun playing with his (and your) senses. Sometimes, the sensations get almost overwhelming, but often, that’s exactly what Floyd needs.  However, despite liking most types of sensation play, his absolute favourite thing is playing with temperatures. And while the heat of things like dripping wax is something that Floyd really, really enjoys, his preference is definitely the cold. He almost always loves the sensation of ice gliding over his warm skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps over his body, and making him shiver as the water slowly evaporates (and he'd adore the feeling of a chilled glass toy cooling him from the inside out, too ♥︎). The cold feels both exciting and comforting to him, and is something that - to Floyd - just overall feels good. 

Other possible kinks: 

Exhibitionism

Feedism

Marking

Sadomasochism (he’s a little bit more of a masochist than a sadist)

Sounding

Lactation

Wax play

Dislikes: 

Bondage (being restrained, specifically)

Other than that, he’s pretty open to trying most things, though he may or may not like them at different times

And with that, my headcanons for the Octavinelle boys' kinks are complete! These three are some of my favourites, and I really had a good time putting this together. It took a bit longer to get out than I thought, but I hope you enjoyed reading through my ideas ^v^

If you have any additional thoughts or opinions on these headcanons, I'd love to hear them!

[askticcitobyshit]

How tall exactly is everyone? I know that You are 5'10, Jeff is 6'2, ect ect, according to Mun's toyhou.se, but do you mind listing the other pastor's heights? (Specifically, I'd like to know how tall Clocky is in this AU lol)

BEN is 5'2, Nina 5'4, Kate 5'6, Chev 5'8, Clocky 5'9, I'm 5'10, Jeff 6'2, and EJ 6'7.

Well technically EJ's normal height is 6'7, but he can grow to be about 7'8-ish. He's a big mf

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Flashback, warm nights.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[jiangwanyinscatmom]

The Burden of Debt For Wei Wuxian: Part One

The burden of debt was consistently placed upon Wei Wuxian and it very much was do to the classist expectations that Jiang Fengmian held regarding his former servant as well as Madam Yu's derision of servant class.

Yes, Wei Wuxian has an ideal social position as a favored servant and "spoiled" in the sense that the position came with many benefits reserved for what the real world equivalent of scholars would have received moving through the political courts of China, but as the novel world is anachronistically strewn with various points of historical and loose context, it carries over these aspects into fictional sects that rely on familial blood associations for inheritance of them. What had once been typical xianxia sect dynamics were inverted to resemble the political systems of the mundane human world, and is also brought up within the novel itself as having significantly changed the cultivation world's own dynamics.

Wei Wuxian is in full awareness as to what his position is to the Jiangs and as such is able to hold secure in this and what he means for the family. He is brought in by Jiang Fengmian with the expectation to be a servant for his son and a right hand, not a brother. This is noteworthy to point out as Jiang Fengmian does not hold the same expectations or protections he reserved to Jiang Cheng. As a sect and clan heir Jiang Cheng should not be placed in extreme danger as what was argued for the Indoctrination. He is the only male blood heir for the clan, Wei Wuxian, being neither family nor adopted, had the expectations of representing their clan as a servant would and the expendability if it came to such. Madam Yu on the other hand irrationally disliked Wei Wuxian dueto his mother and saw this placement of expectations as a derision, of her blood, and the lack of respect of her place as the other Jiang leader and mother of the future of Yunmeng because he was ambivalent to her nature and self.

Wei Wuxian knew what he was to Jiang Fengmian and willingly would serve the lord that had afforded luxuries he would have no access to otherwise if he had not been found by him and by that extension would serve his son that would take his place in debt for this. While proud of his own abilities and intelligence he uses those in service to the Jiang principle and reputation that he was raised to follow. Filial Piety does not just extend to birth parents but to the community that has actively raised and nurtured you. To do less is shameful, a lack of character and respect to the fundamentals you learn to follow.

Madam Yu saw him as a servant more favored than her own son, Jiang Cheng saw this relationship much the same way. Jiang Fengmian did not respect the morals of Madam Yu that Jiang Cheng also embodied but he could easily continue to believe that due to the debt of having been raised under the Jiangs meant that Wei Wuxian could not and would not usurp his claims. These two consistently bring up that while of a favorable position, Wei Wuxian to the family, is still a servant and use that to condemn both Wei Wuxian and Jiang Fengmian's characters as well as using this as a boon that despite Wei Wuxian's talents he will and never can be more to overshadow their places of higher standings.

Even after the Jiang parents own deaths, Wei Wuxian places his position as servant that owes a debt to the Jiang leadership to keep Jiang Cheng safe as they had ordered, not as a brother. Due to his lack of knowing that Jiang Cheng had tried to impulsively protect him and thus Jiang Cheng losing his cultivated core, he sees this as a lacking on his own part for not doing as ordered by his leaders and the threat of the collapse of the sect that fostered his talents he was to use for. He rationalizes the transfer of his core to Jiang Cheng is giving back what was already made by the Jiangs teachings and thus already something that is by default Jiang Cheng's. He is giving back what was given by Jiang Fengmian after being picked up off the streets as debts are meant to be repaid in full return for what had been taken.

This was already a cycle as Jiang Fengmian had looked for an orphaned Wei Wuxian due to the debt he had owed Cangse Sanren for saving his life in their youth and further debt upon Wei Wuxian to now serve the clan for that chance of life repaid again. Similarly, Wen Ning, much like what Cangse Sanren did, saved both Wei Wuxian as well as Jiang Cheng by harboring them as well as Wen Qing. Due to their association with Wen Ruohan and the other Wen aggressors, Wei Wuxian makes his own stipulations of debt by asking Wen Qing, an esteemed doctor of the cultivation world to perform the transfer. Her clan had helped destroy the Jiang's and in that sense she was given an equal opportunity of survival back to Jiang Cheng upon this agreement that Wei Wuxian would later assist her if called upon.

Wen Qing secures a call of safety for herself and Wen Ning for the shelter they provided Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, as well as the personal debt expected repayment from Wei Wuxian's begging for her to perform a transfer of power for an enemy of her people she is supposed to be politically loyal to and in service to. Due to the surgeries success, he metaphorically has given this protection and talent fostered by the Jiang's back to who he sees it as having been provided. The physical debt of life being saved has been repaid with this action by Wei Wuxian to Jiang Cheng in exchange for that debt to be expected repayment to the Wen siblings eventually for their secrecy and harboring the two.

Wei Wuxian himself due to his own personal moral and loyalty still does stay by Jiang Cheng's side as the expected right hand man he was told to be by Jiang Fengmian, even with the loss of his core, his talents for creating Gui Dao are a draw for cultivators to be drawn to the newly established strength that Yunmeng Jiang held. In essence of strength and reputation Jiang Cheng was politically untouchable due to his tie with Wei Wuxian as his right hand servant that followed his command. Despite his strengths not being due to a core any longer he was still able to entice the world to make Jiang Cheng and his home seat of loyalty prosper with raw intelligence and being able to harness unorthodox methods to create something new that was not understood within the expected framework of the Jianghu. Despite Wei Wuxian's own complacency with staying an advisor to Jiang Cheng alone, Jiang Cheng's jealousy from their youth still festers.

Jiang Cheng refusal to see any of Wei Wuxian's support without the debt he now associates with Wei Wuxian having been the cause of his parents deaths, despite his own self admittance during the event he knew he had no reason to place that guilt in Wei Wuxian. This debt and jealousy is now further twisted that Wei Wuxian further owes him for something that was not his to claim on the death of Jiang Fengmian. This placement of repayment for deaths is insatiable and stays as such the more Jiang Cheng's jealousy and hate for what Wei Wuxian as a person grows. The more Jiang Cheng hates, the more trouble Wei Wuxian seems to cause for him and the more Jiang Cheng in claim needs to clean up. The debt grows and Wei Wuxian is indeed as ungrateful as Madam Yu had always said. This fracture in morality continues as they become adults set upon their own moral ideals that clash as well as the expectations of what Jiang Cheng sees as Wei Wuxian's debts owed to "Yunmeng Jiang" for all that they had done for him, what Wei Wuxian wants or does is lesser in the face of what Jiang Cheng sees as owed to him first. This claim of debt is ever growing along with Jiang Cheng's hate for Wei Wuxian himself now.

Eventually Wen Qing is in need of Wei Wuxian's help as well to save Wen Ning, and not only due to what Wei Wuxian sees as being owed for her help previously to save Jiang Cheng, but also because he knows Wen Ning as a kind good person that does not deserve to be treated like a slave prisoner based on cruelty alone. He argues this with the cultivators present that they are being cruel and callous towards those with tenuous ties to Wens that were already killed based on their own cruelty and want of power only. He notes the hypocrisy as well to claim all Wens deserve the treatment despite those of the same name previously sitting amongst them not being a part of this encampment. He states that it is because of Wen Ning that Yunmeng Jiang stands as well due to his kindness that would have gotten him killed if found out.

Out of desperation and disgust he kills the Jin guards that refuse to admit to their own inhumanities while claiming righteousness to save Wen Ning as well as the Wens willing to follow him for protection and safety. He leaves the others to do as they want that stay.

While Mianmian and Lan Wangji try to attest that Wei Wuxian did what he did to save others as he always placed the safety of others regardless of life circumstance above political gain, they are talked down as it being irrelevant due to prejudice associated with the Wen name surviving and further rumors being told loudly now that Wei Wuxian's reputation is stained and Jiang Cheng's tenuous like of him can be exploited. The text itself delves into Jiang Cheng's own thoughts that he is not at any point worried about what could become of Wei Wuxian or the harm potentially waiting now for Wei Wuxian, but of the trouble that Wei Wuxian and work he has made for Jiang Cheng. Jiang Cheng resents that Wei Wuxian can't stay in line and voiceless in his morals and can't stay down as Jiang Cheng told him to, complicit as long as their positions stay the same and unthreatened. Jiang Cheng the master and Wei Wuxian the dog that acts untrained.

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[qrevo]

Emotional Support Polar Bear 🐻‍❄️✨

(Whenever you're feeling sad he will cheer you up with bear puns - he just can't BEAR to see you down!!)