#Xia's Random things

[fragmentedtear]

My sister is Crocheting Nectar a sweater.

He and his sister have eye infections that I'm treating.

[humanjarvis]

maybe he was just hungry but i’ve always hc’d he set the apples out to try to find a sense of familiarity, of normalcy. to make the most of a scary situation, to make his new home look nice and do something nice for himself. it’s what you would do, it’s what you’d want him to do. but whispers of what’s the point swirled through his brain as he placed them with trembling hands. by the last apple, the whispers were so loud—he felt so defeated—that it slipped from his hands and bounced off the platter, bruising and scattering the others. and he sat there letting his failure to do something so minor taunt him until he fell asleep. to dreams of modification, to nightmares of not having you

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Xia Fei is great because as far as we know up to this point, he is literally just a guy. A struggling student who happens to be pretty and got roped into being both model and spy. Currently, he doesn’t seem to know anything about the ongoing time travel plot and he would prefer it to stay that way, thank you very much. Then his boss gets killed and he adds private detective to his ever growing list of jobs. Fantastic character concept, 10/10

[nyancatdisconnected]

Guess who's alive!!! Uhm yeah :P

Anywhore, I've been here since lunch. Dealt with the stupid sub for my woodshop teacher. I hate Mr. Cole. He's so irritating. Health was alright! We are working on a poster for something you wanna advocate for. I chose smoking and vaping because it's something I'm passionate about and I grow/grew up around people who smoke and vape. Also my lungs are ruined because of that :D yay!! /sarc

[neigepomme]

˙ ✩°˖ ✈️ gravitational meet-cute / caleb x reader

synopsis; when you take your 2nd graders to skyhaven university for an activity aiming to teach them about space and gravity, you don't expect the faceless professor xia on the website to be a cute guy around your age, instead of an old man. as it turns out gravity isn't the only force that's irresistible around here, his charm is, too.

🍎 pomme's notes — caleb flirts with you in front of your class for nearly two thousand words basically :9

✴︎ 1.8k words / fluff / 2nd person & fem! reader — additional notes: reader is a 2nd grade teacher & has no evol, i gave the kids random names, caleb is a prodigy in the aerospace engineering field, reader & caleb are in their early thirties!

the kids in the school bus are buzzing excitedly when skyhaven university's towering buildings come into sight, and you can only helplessly ask them to remain tightly in their seat until the bus reaches its destination.

to be fair though, you can't exactly blame them. they're getting to go to the "big kids school", and they're gonna learn about space — something far too big for their little selves to understand yet. how cool is that!?

"noah, olivia and kai! sit down right now, or else all three of you are gonna stick by me the whole time we're there! everyone, this applies to you as well!"

with a resounding "yes miss!" the kids finally settle down and give you some time to gather your thoughts prior to getting off the bus. this was a big day for your kids, even though you were out of it.

just the week before, you were drinking yourself silly and lamenting your bachelorette life, and your best friend, tara (who just so happened to be the school secretary), had the incredible idea of signing your class up for an activity at skyhaven university to distract you.

"come on, it'll be fun! you love seeing the kids discover new things and get this — you won't even be the one teaching! just think of it as a break. besides, who knows, maybe professor xia is a hottie!"

"tara, the average age for aerospace engineers is like.. 70. professor xia's probably just a decrepit old man — his picture isn't even on the website! i bet you he's too old to even figure out how to upload it."

"you won't know unless you go, though! it doesn't matter anyways, your class is signed up already, so just have fun with it!"

so here you were, "having fun with it", otherwise known as watching over 30 overly excited children. thankfully, the driver pulls into the university's designated lot — though not without some squeals and giggles from the class. after disembarking and doing a headcount, you clear your throat in order to grab their attention.

"one, two, three! eyes on me!"

and in unison, all 30 students responded, "one, two! eyes on you!"

it was a cute call and response you'd learned from one of your mentors some years ago, and it got them attentive and ready to listen to your directions quickly — only this time, another sound cut through the silence, a whistle followed by a chuckle.

"woah! i'll have to use that on my own students, that sure was effective."

when you turn to face the voice, you're met with a handsome smile from an even more handsome man. a TA, maybe? before you can ask him who he is, the brunette seems to sense your confusion and beats you to the punch, introducing himself to you and your class with a dynamic expression.

"all right, kiddos, it's nice to meet all of you! i'm professor xia, but that makes me sound old, doesn't it? you can call me mr. caleb!"

there's no way tara was right. what happened to the decrepit old man you were envisioning? surely, there was a mistake. one of the little girls in your class quickly pulled you out of your thoughts, raising her hand and asking this.. too young of a professor a question.

"how come you teach at the big kids school? you're not even an old man! you're like miss teacher!"

right. 2nd graders' questions. you pinch the bridge of your nose, ready to apologize, but instead it seems like caleb finds it very humorous, throwing his head back and laughing before squatting down to your kids' eye level and explaining himself.

"yeah? i'm super smart, so i skipped a few grades and started teaching here after i retired as a pilot! how cool is that?"

a choir of ooh's and aah's emerged from the children, and caleb got up before pulling out his faculty card and handing it to you with a subtle wink.

"just so you know i'm the right guy."

judging from his ID, it looks like he wasn't lying — caleb xia, one of the professors in the aerospace engineering department of skyhaven university. you flash him a smile before introducing yourself. after caleb gives both you and your class a quick rundown of today's activity, you get the kids to line up in two rows and follow caleb like ducklings into an empty auditorium. trailing behind to make sure none of them got lost in the halls, you pull out your phone and send a quick "fuck he's hot i owe you a drink girl" text to tara.

the kids were in awe at how cool mr. caleb was, and you were in awe at how calm they were. you're a good teacher, and your kids love you, but that took a bit of work, due to how rowdy they were. caleb on the other hand? it came to him too naturally — to the point where you felt a pang of silly jealousy. you'd have to copy some of his mannerisms with the class.

however, admiring his prowess with the kids, quickly turned into something more. your eyes landed on his face, and his cute freckles and bright smile while he interacted with the children made your heart swoon. his purple eyes were so expressive, and you could almost get lost in them — and if you did? you'd rather not be found. lowering your gaze a bit, you end up admiring his well-built physique, until you could feel a tiny index finger poking your arm.

looking to your right, one of the three troublemakers on the bus, olivia, was grinning at you, with a mischievous expression on her face.

"miss.. do you think mr. caleb is handsome?" she whispered.

you almost choke on your spit, and you can't help the faint warmth on your face when you tell her to focus on what the brunette at the front is saying.

"pleaaaase, i promise i'll listen after this!!" she begs with a lip jutted out, and you can't resist those puppy eyes. damn 2nd graders.

"you — fine! i think he's handsome, now go back to listening!"

olivia beams and quickly turns to the front, but not before whispering about her newfound discovery to her two partners in crime, noah and kai. somehow, this didn't look too good for you right now.

sighing, you focus your own attention to caleb — only to be met with his eyes looking at you already. there's no way he heard, unless he has the greatest ears mankind has ever seen. right?

"miss teacher! would you mind help me demonstrating how gravity works for the kids?"

his tone is playful, and his expression inviting, so you find yourself getting up from your seat to join him on the small stage. presenting both of his hands to you, he winks again, and you can feel butterflies in your stomach. somehow you can't figure out if it's out of anticipation for the demonstration or if it's because caleb looks so cute right now.

"if you could hold both of my hands tightly, please. it's for science, no ulterior motives," and more quietly, only for you to hear, he adds, "or maybe just a tiny bit of ulterior motives."

ignoring the kids' gasps and squeals at their teacher holding hands with the good-looking professor, caleb begins to explain gravity in simple terms.

"you guys are anchored to the ground because of this thing called gravity. it's a super strong and invisible force that pulls things towards each other, and right now, the earth is pulling you towards its center!"

suddenly you feel your feet lift off the ground, and with a gasp, your grasp on caleb's hands tighten. you look into his eyes, and you're met with a smile.

"i have a super cool power though — a gravity evol. right now, i'm making it so that miss teacher is no longer affected by the earth's gravity. how cool is that!?"

you can only laugh at the 2nd graders' amazed reactions, varying from "my turn", "that's so cool", "i want a superpower too" and "miss teacher is blushing". he slowly lowers you back down, but once your feet touch the floor again, you stagger a bit, and he moves a hand to your waist to stabilize you with a soft chuckle and a "zero gravity does that to you sometimes." caleb walks you to your seat before turning to face the kids' expectant faces and speaking.

"if you all come to the front — without running! — and link your arms together, i'll make you all float for a bit too! go, go, go, captain caleb's airline is about to take flight!"

with excited yells, all the students hold onto each other tightly — and when caleb makes use of his evol to make them float around for a few minutes, their laughter is filling your ears, making you laugh along. when he lowers them back onto the ground, it's almost time to return to school, and so ensues the QnA section of the activity. after caleb answers a few questions related to space and gravity, kai looks at olivia and noah before raising his hand.

"mr. caleb! do you think miss teacher is pretty?"

noah doubles down, and with a cute yet failed attempt at whispering, he lets caleb know that "it's a secret, but miss teacher thinks you're handsome!"

so that was what olivia was up to. that's why she was whispering and exchanging knowing smiles with them. you're about to intervene and save the brunette from this awkward situation before he hums and places a hand underneath his chin, as if pondering the situation.

much to your surprise though, he squats down to the kids' level, before gesturing at all of them to come close, like he's about to reveal a secret too. with a voice loud enough for you specifically to hear, he gives the kids a wink.

"this is a secret between all of us, okay? i think she's the prettiest woman i've ever seen. and this is top top top secret, but i'm gonna ask her out on a date after this. don't tell her!"

he looks over his shoulder, meeting your gaze with a smile and you can see the tips of his ears turning a soft crimson hue. he laughs at your flustered expression and red cheeks — all while your 2nd graders squealed and shook with excitement.

and now, here you were — riding the bus again with all all 30 of your rowdy kids, but instead of solely smiling at the songs they sang on the way back to school, you were also smiling at caleb's new messages on your screen.

— hey sweets. are you gravity?

— because i feel a force pulling me towards you :P 

— is saturday good for you? i'll pick you up at 7!

you really owed tara a drink after this. and you owed your class a pizza party.

🍎 pomme's final notes — i gave myself baby fever with this fic oh how i love the concept of caleb interacting with kids.. also this is just. caleb flirting and being playful. live laugh love loverboys. also if any 2nd graders feel poorly represented get off my damn blog

hey.. tagging those who were interested in this bad boy... love u guys…..

— @abyssyby @codedove @30jades @shewrites247 @cantaloupewatch @vesearlee @iloveh4nge @philosians

[asteroshearts]

Postpartum Confinement

[Xavier (Shen Xinghui 沈星回 ) + Caleb (Xia Yizhou 夏以晝)]

In Chinese culture, mothers stay and rest for a month or more after giving birth to properly recover (zuo yue zi).

Warnings: Yandere themes for Caleb's

Zayne and Sylus

Xavier (Shen Xinghui 沈星回 )

The Yue Sao (postpartum care nanny) and her little assistant, Xavier.

You and Xavier decided to hire a Yue Sao recommended by one of your older coworkers at the Hunters Association, and now Xavier could always be seen shyly shuffling behind her around the house, ready to get you anything and everything you needed at a moment's notice.

Your coworker told you that she heard many horror stories about Yue Sao or in-laws being opinionated or strict, but she told you that this woman always asked her what she wanted first.

It was true, this woman was an angel to you, so patient, asking for your opinions, making jokes with you, saying things like, "Oh, you don't want to? That's fine!"

But with Xavier...she was Gordon Ramsay, and he was her sous chef.

No more midday napping for him.

While you rested or nursed the baby, you could always see him in the background mopping, vacuuming, cleaning the kitchen, the bathroom, up and down the entire home.

Whenever his path would cross yours on his crusade, he'd always shoot such sad bunny eyes at you two... he wanted to nap with his baby too....

But the Yue Sao said you already did the brunt of the work, creating the baby for nine months, pushing them out, and experiencing the most pain you had ever felt in your life, what Xavier had to deal with was a molehill compared to your mountain.

But when she tried to teach him how to make you a postpartum soup...

["Um..." he answered awkwardly, "I don't think I should."

"Xinghui!" she scolded, and if he had bunny ears, you could imagine them drooping by now. He had normally been so above and beyond for you, so what changed? "What will happen when I'm no longer around? Who will make your wife soup?"

Those bunny ears seemed to sag even more.

"Are you going to make the mother of your child get up and make her own soup?"]

One hour later, you and your baby woke up with a jump when a loud BOOM came from your kitchen.

Your Yue Sao later apologized and swore to never let him cook again.

She later recommended some places you could order delivery from for meals specifically for postpartum women.

For some reason...why do I feel like he'd be really good at the massages meant to help you with lactation?

When the nanny tried to teach you the massage, you easily called Xavier over to learn too, as you trusted him.

He wouldn't find it awkward or weird, and would take up her lessons with seriousness.

He'd be the perfect mix of gentle and nimble, but he'd stare at your face as he'd do it, catching any microexpressions for any ounce of discomfort or pain. If the pressure was too much, he'd slow down or switch techniques immediately.

Being a nanny, your Yue Sao had seen far too many lazy, distant, or ungrateful fathers, so she was so glad to meet Xavier, who waited on you hand and foot.

As she mentioned that to him, a small smile appeared on his lips.

He didn't mind. As a knight, he lived devoted.

Caleb (Xia Yizhou 夏以晝)

A tradition where you aren't supposed to go outside, not meet with anyone else, and where all attention was on you and the ultimate proof of your love, and that you would never leave him, your child? Oh, he's over the moon.

Why should the zuo yue zi only be a month? He's telling you to make it three—five, in fact, you could stay like this forever.

Despite this, however, he doesn't trust anyone to properly take care of you and your baby. Not a random postpartum nanny, not any of the care centers, and you two had no in-laws.

He might not trust anyone, but that doesn't mean he would dare deprive you of any resource or help.

He puts it on himself to fill in the empty spaces and throws himself into learning about postpartum care, taking classes while you were still pregnant and constantly researching.

Some may say it takes a village to raise a child, but Caleb is all you need, hm?

Since it's just him doing all of the work, he wants to make sure that no stone is unturned, and falls deeply into believing postpartum superstitions and traditional medicine.

Feeds you bitter herbal stews and constantly talks about keeping the "heat" in your body.

You have to debate and argue with him that nothing will happen if you turn on the AC for just a bit in the summer, and can he please stop feeding you pork trotters!?

He's a bit sad too, though. It's just as hard for you as it is for him. Postpartum women aren't supposed to eat overly salty, oily foods, and he loves making you his famous braised chicken.

Washes your hair for you, cooks you every meal, and we all know that he's a pro at doing your laundry 😏, so the second the baby throws/spits up on you, he's there in a second with a fresh shirt and wiping you down.

It may seem excessive, but he'll say in his sweet voice that keeping clean is good for your mental health and how you view yourself.

But he'll love you no matter what. Even if you smell like baby vomit.

He takes over the night shift completely with your baby without you knowing, so much so that, for a while, you believed that your baby just didn't wake up in the middle of the night like other kids.

You had full eight-plus hours of sleep for months, and you were none the wiser that Caleb would wake up at the slightest hint of a whimper or cry from the crib beside your bed, feed the baby, rock them, and change diapers, all while you slept peacefully.

You didn't catch on until one of your calls with Jenna, she told you that it was improbable that your baby didn't wake up at all during the night, and perhaps one day, you should pretend to sleep to catch the act.

So that's why he asked you to pump so much.

Some women may beg for at least a 50/50 relationship with the father of their children, but for Caleb, 50/50 isn't enough. If he weren't human, and if he were made of machine and metal, he'd want to be built just for this. He'd make it so that you wouldn't have to lift a single finger, and he'd take care of everything.

[miyamiwu]

Something about love and masks in TBHX...

E-Soul not taking off his mask signifies his commitment to the people’s trust.

But for Yang Cheng, him removing his mask signifies his love for Xia Qing.

Same thing with Lin Ling. The moment “Xiao Yueqing” was in danger, he readily threw away the Nice persona. But then he met Xiao Yueqing as himself, and the latter immediately died.

Wreck also removed his mask when he looked for Nice. Meanwhile, Nice never had to wear a mask around Wreck… Now, they’re both assumed dead.

I think…the principle TBHX wants to tell us is that loving any one person is detrimental to being a hero.

When Lin Ling went down to save Xiao Yueqing, he essentially chose her over the millions of people who trust in him. To love her was betraying everybody else and losing his trust value. Although he later regained his trust value because of his willingness to sacrifice himself for her, imagine if the situation had been more extreme. What if the situation was Lin Ling having to choose between Xiao Yueqing’s safety and the safety of millions of random supporters? Would he have chosen the one person he loves or saved the lives of many others?

A hero, therefore, must never love another like a partner. Because a hero’s love cannot ever be for just one person. It’s for everyone.

[starlightkwan]

best friend’s brother- caleb xia

you've fallen for your best friend's brother. can you keep your relationship a secret?

fluff, word count: 900 ish

warnings: none (pls lmk if you spot any!)

info: gn! reader x caleb, tara and caleb are siblings (i gave into the theory of them being biological siblings), caleb is one year older than reader and tara, reader and caleb in a newly formed relationship

notes: inspired by that one victorious song ‘bfb’ my best friend’s brother is the one for me! (i love it sm), had to write after colonel decided to come home before zayne did for the wedding banner

Caleb has always been a constant presence in your life. Tara insists that he likes you more than her, but you just believe that he’s never gotten over that one time where she hid over three hundred mini rubber ducks in his room. He’s still finding them almost ten years later.

You’ve always seen Caleb as someone you look up to– both figuratively and literally. You even consider their house as yours, even more than your own. There's just something comforting about the place, but you were never able to put your finger on it. It was never about the massive backyard that you could run around freely in, or the insanely comfortable sofa used for movie nights. None of those things made it feel like home. It was Caleb that made it feel like home.

If someone asked how long it’s been since you liked Caleb, you wouldn't be able to tell them. Maybe your feelings for him developed from the way he cared for you. In Tara’s eyes, the behaviour he would show when he cared was seen as overprotective at times. But the thought of him caring was more than enough; you just hoped that deep down, he would feel the same about you too.

It’s the first week of the summer holidays and the end of your second year at the Hunter's Academy. Caleb is sitting next to Tara, chatting his mouth off about how excited he is about ranking first at the Aerospace Academy, happily explaining how he managed the assessments with ease.

You and Caleb decided to become official about a week ago, after months of heavy yearning and pining. The stolen glances whenever the other wasn’t looking, the seemingly friendly touches that would linger just a fraction longer than usual and the need to be close to each other without making it seem painstakingly obvious.

But even after making out of that dreaded phase, it’s as if you're back at the beginning. Tara quickly leaves the backyard, off on a mission to get some ice cream from the freezer. The moment she leaves and is out of sight, Caleb pounces, placing his head on your lap and sighs contentedly. “I can’t believe I just spent ten minutes sitting five metres away from you.” He pouts, wrapping his arms around your thighs.

“Caleb, you were only sitting like half an arm’s distance away from me.” You chuckle.

“Still too far.” He presses his cheek onto the skin of your thighs and his hold around your thighs tightened. “Need you to be next to me like this.”

“Sure thing buddy.” You say, fixing his hair out of his eyes. “Are you still going to stay next to me when your beloved sister sees us like this?”

“Can I?” He asks, his piercing violet eyes look into yours, waiting for an answer.

“Are you not afraid about what she will think?” You ask.

“No. If anything, I’m more scared that she’s going to fight me to get more time with you.” Caleb replies, shuddering at the thought.

“I’m sure she won’t.” You smile.

That’s a lie. Tara would definitely tackle her brother to the ground so she could go out with you. Hell, Tara would tackle her brother even if a random stranger asked her to.

“I would and you know it.” Tara steps back into the backyard, ice cream cones in hand.

Caleb quickly gets off of you and takes the ice cream cones from his sister’s hands, trying to distract her by asking what flavours she got from the freezer. You just sit there frozen in your seat.

“About time you guys decided to do something about your feelings!” Tara exclaims, licking her ice cream. “It was so painful to watch you two idiots yearn for each other for months, maybe even years! If you weren't going to do something about it by the end of the month, I would've locked you both in a closet and forced you to do ‘seven minutes in heaven’ like twelve year olds.”

“You aren’t mad?” You ask, tilting your head.

“If anything, I’m mad that I’ve had to watch two idiots pretend to not like one another when they can’t even spend a minute without looking at each other like they created the stars and the moon.” Tara sighs, plopping down on the grass.

Without saying anything, Caleb makes his way back to your lap. “Glad to know that I won’t have to beg you to let me date him.” You say, pointing at the man in question.

“I think you mean, Caleb would be the one that would have to beg me to let him date you. I can always get another brother but I can’t get another one of you.” Tara says, blowing you a kiss. She then turns to her brother, giving him a cold stare. “I will tackle you if you ever cause them any pain. Even if I become a ghost, I will float around and hunt you down.”

Caleb nods like an obedient puppy. “I wasn’t planning to cause them pain anyways.”

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖° pls don’t be afraid to interact! likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :) dms work too! if you have any feedback pls lmk! <3 enjoy the rest of your day/ night!

[mysterialistic]

Highly unlikely theory for episode 6 (because this donghua always manages to surprise me lol)

How funny (tragic) would it be if, in Lu Guang’s attempt to change things and save Cheng Xiaoshi, he actually ends up making it worse and leading him straight to the grave?

My theory is that Lu Guang will attempt something drastic and fail, leading Cheng Xiaoshi to an even earlier death. We know for a fact that he failed this attempt because this seems to be the first alternate timeline, and in the Season 2 finale, he says “my last chance,” implying he has already repeated these events several times.

There’s no way Vein would just fall for whatever plan Lu Guang has. Does Lu Guang not know Vein is part of some sort of mafia? Vein is clearly not just some random guy running a modeling agency—he knows a lot, starting with the fact that they have powers to alter time. His official bio even states that he dislikes lies. And who’s the biggest liar? Lu Guang, of course.

Also, some think the person grabbing Xia Fei in the trailer is Vein, but it’s definitely not him because of the lack of sleeves. It’s either Lu Guang or Cheng Xiaoshi—I’m leaning toward the latter. Cheng Xiaoshi has trusted Xia Fei so far, but in this scene, Xia Fei looks scared and is trying to run away, only to be stopped by CXS, who’s ready to confront him. (Btw, my guess is that Xia Fei's attempt to get out of his deal with Liu Xiao was a complete failure).

Here’s my crazy theory: Lu Guang goes missing (likely kidnapped by Vein), and Xia Fei starts acting suspicious, which Cheng Xiaoshi notices. This forces Xia Fei to spill the truth—that he’s a spy who’s been using them and was never really their friend. True to his reckless nature, Cheng Xiaoshi will try to save Lu Guang and might end up dying in the process, forcing Lu Guang to reset the timeline again, possibly to a point before Yingdu to prevent them from ever going on that trip. After all, even Cheng Xiaoshi’s mother warned them: “Don’t let him come to Yingdu.”

I don’t think this arc will have a happy ending. The number of inconsistencies between this timeline and the current one suggests this is another of Lu Guang’s failed attempts. If this is the current timeline, it would lead to the biggest plot holes given how events have unfolded so far. Actually, I’d love to make a detailed post pointing out all the differences between the events of these episodes and the flashbacks we’ve seen from Seasons 1 and 2.

[baekhyunsbestie]

knockout.

⤷ lil bday gift for my sweet angel baby @babyueare !!! ⊹ ࣪ ˖

˗ˏˋ ꒰ sum ꒱ ˎˊ˗ he’s not fighting for the crowd. not for the title. not even for revenge. he’s fighting bc your nails are still etched into his back, and he wants the whole world to know exactly who put them there. old ghosts resurface, tension’s high, and your ex picked the wrong opponent. now yixing’s in the ring with something to prove—and afterward, when the lights go down and the cameras stop rolling, he’s still wearing you like a championship belt.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 18+/MDNI | boxer!yixing x f!reader ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ~3.7k words. boxing au. reader has an ex. explicit language. possessiveness. marking kink. jealousy themes. p in v. locker room sex hehe. yixing's fucking hot in this. xia ge wen ti xue xue <3 😛😛

it started the moment yixing found out who your ex was.

not just some random name from your past, but a familiar one. a loud one. a name that echoed through every underground fight circle from seoul to hongdae. your ex had a reputation—one he clung to like it still meant something. brash. boastful. cocky to a fault. the kind of man who strutted through locker rooms like he owned the place, always talking louder than necessary, always needing to be the center of every conversation. he fought dirty, bragged harder, and walked around with a chip on his shoulder the size of his ego. and for a while, he was the name on everyone’s lips. the one to beat.

then yixing showed up.

quiet. clean-cut. pretty boy with a face too angelic for bloodstained gloves. he didn’t talk much, didn’t need to. he let his fists do the flexing. and the moment he stepped into the underground scene, it was like everything shifted. the whispers started fast—that new kid? the one with the dimples? have you seen the way he moves?—and within months, he wasn’t just in the spotlight, he was the spotlight. groupies trailed after him like shadows, always hoping for a smile, a wink, a touch. he’d just flash that soft little grin, dimple digging into his cheek, and the whole damn room would melt.

but he never gave them more than that. never lingered. never entertained.

because he wasn’t here to play pretty. he was here to fight.

and the contrast between him and your ex was stark—two rising names in the same brutal world, cut from completely different cloth. your ex basked in attention, thrived on noise, always needing to prove how loud he could be. yixing, on the other hand, was silent and surgical. lethal in the ring, humble outside it. the kind of man who didn’t chase glory but still ended up bathed in it.

and when your ex found out you were with him now? oh, he didn’t take it lightly.

it bruised something deep in him. wounded his pride in a way no loss ever had. suddenly, it wasn’t just a rivalry—it was personal. he started talking shit in interviews, name-dropping you like a trophy he’d once owned. said things like “she was sweet, but she couldn’t handle a man like me.”

as if you were just another stat. another notch. 

as if he hadn’t already been a chapter you’d ripped out and burned.

you hadn’t told yixing about any of it at first. didn’t want to pour gasoline on a fire you knew he’d gladly burn the whole city down to extinguish. but of course, he found out. stories travel fast in circles like these. and men like your ex? they never know when to shut the fuck up.

when yixing heard, he didn’t react. not a single change in his expression. he just nodded once—silent, still, unreadable. but you knew better. knew that kind of stillness was never peace.

it was a warning.

he was already planning how he’d break him.

but first, he broke you.

not gently. not softly. not like you were something fragile. no—like you were the answer to a question he didn’t know he’d been asking until he saw red. like he needed to feel your body clench around him just to keep himself from marching out and beating the hell out of someone he hadn’t even touched yet.

it was heat and hunger, all breathless urgency and heavy limbs, the kind of sex that blurred the line between punishment and worship.

you were face-down, fingers fisting the sheets, body arching under him as he drove into you with a rhythm that was more war drum than love song. every thrust was deliberate. brutal. meant to erase every trace of that man from your memory and replace it with him.

your moans were ragged, high-pitched and gasping, every sound like a confession. and yixing—he was unrelenting. sweat slicked down his temple, muscles flexing with every snap of his hips, his name low in your throat, his fingers gripping your hips hard enough to bruise.

when your nails dug down his back—sharp, red, mean—he groaned. low and guttural, like the pain had cracked something open inside him.

“ah, fuck—again,” he rasped, breath hot against your neck. “do it again. harder.”

you obeyed. you always did. you wanted him to wear you. and he did—by the end of it, he was marked up and panting, twitching inside you with his forehead pressed against your shoulder, your name falling from his lips like a prayer.

he didn’t bother checking the mirror afterward. he didn’t need to. he could feel it. your claim, carved deep beneath his skin like something permanent.

and when he walked out of that bedroom, he wasn’t just a fighter anymore.

he was a man on a mission.

it’s fight night, and the air tastes like static.

the air crackles with electricity—thick with sweat, smoke, blood, and cheap beer. the stadium’s packed wall to wall, pulsing like a heartbeat, every body pressed tight with anticipation. the crowd buzzes with that feverish energy right before something explodes. tension hangs heavy, coiled like a fuse just waiting for the spark.

and then— his name rings out.

zhang yixing.

the crowd screams. chants. roars. but he walks out slow, measured. not cocky—calm. calculated. like a storm that already knows what it’s about to destroy.

every step echoes with intent. every muscle sharp under the stadium lights, glistening just enough to catch the eye. and then, right at the edge of the ring—he stops.

he reaches for his shirt. pulls it off in one fluid motion, like he’s not even thinking about it—like it’s instinct. but he knows what he’s doing. he knows what they’re about to see.

and the crowd? fucking loses it.

gasps ripple through the sea of faces. cameras flash like lightning, zoom lenses snapping closer, desperate to capture every inch of red that blooms across his back—those deep, angry scratch marks etched into him, raw and unmistakably fresh. they haven’t faded. haven’t even scabbed. they���re bold. deliberate. unforgiving. and they tell a story.

every commentator stutters. every whisper becomes a wave. your name isn’t spoken, but it’s heard—in every shocked breath, every camera angle, every disbelieving look passed between the audience.

your ex is already in the ring. gloves up. pacing like he owns the place. but the second his eyes land on yixing—he stumbles.

his smirk twitches. falters. because there you are—written in red across another man’s body. unavoidable. inescapable.

and yixing? yixing smiles.

not wide. not cocky. just that slow, dangerous smirk—the kind that pulls deep at the corner of his mouth, shadowed by the sharp cut of his jaw. he rolls his shoulders, lazy and unbothered, like he’s stretching beneath your touch all over again.

“so this is who she’s warming up to now, huh?” he sneers, looking yixing up and down like he’s unimpressed. “never figured her for the sensitive, dimpled type.”

yixing says nothing. just tilts his head slightly. unreadable.

your ex keeps going, voice rising above the noise. “bet she moans real sweet for you, huh? or do you fuck her soft, like she’s some delicate little toy?”

still, yixing doesn’t speak.

but his jaw ticks.

your ex catches it. smirks wider.

“i had her first, y’know,” he taunts. “know every inch of her. every sound she makes. she used to beg for me.”

yixing rolls his shoulders, calm on the outside. but his eyes? dark. cold. burning.

the bell rings.

round one starts like a dance—sharp, fast, strategic. your ex swings wide, heavy punches meant to intimidate. yixing dodges like water slipping through fingers. he’s not rushing. he’s studying.

but your ex’s strength is no joke. he lands a solid jab to yixing’s ribs, forcing a grunt out of him. then another hit—a quick right hook that clips his jaw. the crowd gasps.

but yixing just licks the blood from his lip. smiles.

your ex’s grin gets cockier. “you bleed easy, pretty boy.”

yixing exhales slowly through his nose. still doesn’t speak.

round two—more of the same. your ex lands a few more hits. heavy, bruising shots that echo through the arena. yixing starts bleeding from a cut above his brow. the crowd murmurs.

but then your ex opens his mouth again.

“she scratches you up good, huh? bet you love looking in the mirror and pretending she isn’t still thinking about me when she’s underneath you.”

and that’s the moment something shifts.

it’s subtle, but unmistakable—the way yixing’s shoulders square, the flicker of rage beneath his skin. the kind of quiet, dangerous fury that doesn’t scream—it strikes.

and when round three starts, yixing comes alive.

he moves faster now. more precise. every punch lands with vicious intent. a jab to the jaw, a body shot so clean it knocks the wind out of your ex’s lungs. a hook to the ribs that makes him stumble. the crowd erupts again.

your ex tries to keep up, but it’s too late. yixing is locked in. surgical. relentless.

then—bam. a right cross so fast the cameras almost miss it. crack. a devastating uppercut snaps your ex’s head back.

he’s dazed. legs jelly. and yixing doesn’t hesitate.

a final punch—clean, brutal, personal—connects square with his jaw. the sound is sickening. the crowd goes feral.

your ex hits the mat like dead weight. out cold.

gasps. silence. shock.

the ref rushes in. the bell rings.

knockout.

still undefeated.

yixing stands over him, chest heaving, blood dripping from his brow, sweat gleaming on his skin.

but he’s not done.

he crouches low, right beside the man’s limp body. leans in close—just loud enough for the cameras to maybe catch it, but soft enough that it still feels like a threat whispered in a dark alley.

“keep her fucking name out of your mouth.”

he pauses. tilts his head.

“or i’ll lay your ass out like this again—permanently.”

and when the final bell rings—when the sound cuts through the thick, electric haze of the arena, and the announcer calls his name again, loud and triumphant— yixing doesn’t even glance at the belt being handed to him.

not once.

not even a flick of his eyes.

because the victory was never in the metal. it’s already etched into the bruises he gave, the blood he drew, the silence he left behind. he already had what he came for.

the second he steps out of the ring, the press descends like vultures—flashes blinding, questions flying, chaos spilling in every direction.

“zhang yixing! yixing—over here!”

“was this fight personal?”

“what do those marks on your back mean?”

he doesn’t answer at first. just stands there—blood smeared, sweat glistening, chest rising and falling with slow, deliberate breaths. the scratches you left on his back are still angry and red, framed like war paint beneath the harsh camera lights.

he turns his head slightly. locks eyes with the nearest lens.

his voice, when it comes, is quiet. calm. lethal.

“everything i do is personal.”

and just like that, he walks off—cool, unbothered, leaving a stunned hush in his wake.

no further comment. no belt raised in the air. just the weight of his words, heavy and echoing long after his footsteps disappear down the hallway.

backstage, he finds you.

he doesn’t call your name, doesn’t speak—just finds you in a quiet corner like instinct pulled him there. like his body couldn’t wait another second to reach yours. his hands slide around your waist, rough and urgent, pulling you flush against him like gravity has its own agenda.

his breath is still ragged in his chest, adrenaline humming under his skin. he presses you to the wall, arms bracketing you in, nose brushing yours, eyes locked on your lips like he’s still in the ring and this is his real prize.

“you saw?” he rasps, voice hoarse and wrecked and barely holding back everything he still wants to do to you.

you nod, breath catching between you. “everyone saw.”

he smirks. slow and sharp. the kind of smirk that says he meant for it to be seen.

he leans in, presses his mouth to your throat—a kiss that’s more claim than affection. slow. deliberate. heavy with everything he didn’t say in front of the cameras.

his voice is a growl against your skin.

“good.”

another kiss. firmer this time.

“let ‘em all see.”

his fingers tighten at your waist, grounding himself in your warmth.

“let ‘em know exactly who i fight for.”

the fight’s over, but the air still hums with adrenaline—thick and electric, like it hasn’t quite settled yet. the roar of the crowd still echoes faintly from beyond the walls, muffled beneath layers of concrete, but it lingers… like a ghost.

you’re tucked away backstage now, swallowed by the maze of dim corridors and flickering fluorescent lights. the scent of sweat, chalk, and metallic blood clings stubbornly to your clothes, to your skin, to the very breath in your lungs. your pulse is still racing, chest rising and falling in a rhythm that doesn’t belong to calm yet.

you’re waiting for him.

yixing—still etched into your thoughts like a bruise beneath your skin. your heart hasn’t stopped pounding since the second he walked into the ring, slow and lethal, like he already knew he was going to win.

and god, you’re still buzzing.

not just from the victory—but from him.from the way he peeled his shirt off like a silent statement, like an offering to the crowd. like he wanted the world to see what you’d done to him. those angry red scratches down his back weren’t just marks. they were proof.

you’re still caught in the haze of it—still tasting the electricity in your mouth—when a voice cuts through the quiet like a blade.

low. smug. too familiar.

“so… that’s who you left me for?”

your body goes rigid before you even turn. spine locking, pulse stuttering.

you know that voice.

and when you face him, there he is—your ex. bruised. split lip. ego battered, pride cracked. but somehow, still standing. still smirking like he’s got something even worth smirking about. like the knockout didn’t happen. like you didn’t leave him behind.

he saunters closer, shoulders rolled back like he’s still trying to sell the illusion of power. like he still thinks he has pull.

his eyes flick down your body—casual, invasive, presumptuous. like he has any right to look at you that way.

“guess you like being fucked by a show pony now, huh?” he sneers, voice dripping with bitterness dressed as arrogance. “what, does he moan your name while you scratch him up like that? or was that just something you saved for me?”

your jaw clenches, teeth grinding behind a tight-lipped glare. rage simmers low in your gut, sharp and hot.

you take a step forward, chin raised just enough to cut.

“don’t flatter yourself.”

your voice doesn’t tremble.

it’s cool. measured. sharpened at the edges like a blade slipped beneath silk. it cuts deeper than anything he just said—not loud, not angry, just final.a dismissal, yes. but also a warning. a reminder that he is nothing more than a story you stopped telling.

but he doesn’t take the hint. of course he doesn’t.

he steps closer—too close—invading your space with that smug swagger, testing the waters with a touch that should’ve burned off his skin. his fingers skim your wrist, featherlight but loaded with entitlement, like he’s trying to drag the past back into the present. like he’s already forgotten what no sounds like in your mouth.

“you used to like it rough,” he mutters, voice curling low around the words like smoke from something rotten. “you remember that?”

you don’t even get the chance to reply.

because suddenly—there’s a shift in the air. a weight. a presence. a heat that rolls in behind you like a rising storm.

you don’t have to turn. you feel him.

yixing.

eyes like lightning behind a brewing sky. jaw clenched tight enough to crack bone. the faint scent of sweat and iron clings to him, his fists still wrapped, his knuckles still kissed with blood.

he’s not just angry—he’s coiled. ready. feral.

his voice cuts through the space like a blade drawn from its sheath.

“get your fucking hands off her.”

your ex jerks slightly, instinct flickering in his eyes, spine stiffening. but pride is a hell of a drug, and he still tries to puff up, straighten his shoulders, play the fool.

“what, you jealous?” he throws out, laughing under his breath, trying to mask the tremor in his voice.

but yixing doesn’t flinch. he steps forward—slow, predatory, terrifying in his calm. he moves between you and your ex with surgical precision, cutting off the space like a shield made of bone and vengeance.

his voice comes colder now, layered in fire and ice.

“you don’t get to speak her name.” a pause. “you don’t even get to look at her.”

your ex flinches at yixing’s words, eyes darting between the two of you like he’s finally starting to realize this wasn’t a game he was ever going to win.

but he still doesn’t know when to back down.

your ex steps in too close, still clinging to whatever delusion he has left. “you really think she’s yours now?” he scoffs. “you think she’s over me?”

before you can even respond, yixing’s voice cuts in—low, calm, lethal.

“oh, fuck off.”

that’s it. no theatrics. no raised voice. just three words, razor-sharp and final.

your ex tries to hold his ground, but yixing doesn’t even blink—just stares him down with blood still drying on his knuckles, jaw tight, shoulders broad and unshaken.

“she doesn’t want you,” he adds quietly. “take the fucking hint—before i give you another one.”

and just like that, your ex backs off.

nothing left to say. nothing worth staying for.

he disappears down the hallway, tail between his legs.

and beside you, yixing barely exhales—like dismissing him was just another part of his routine.

“are you okay?” he asks after a beat, his voice softer now, low enough to pull your focus straight to him. his hand finds your wrist, thumb brushing lightly over your skin, like he needs to feel you steady beneath his touch.

you nod, but it’s shaky. unconvincing. your chest is still tight, your nerves still buzzing with leftover adrenaline.

he notices. of course he does.

there’s blood at the corner of his mouth, and before you can stop yourself, you reach up and wipe it away with your sleeve.

“you didn’t have to do that,” you whisper, eyes lingering on the split in his lip.

he leans in, slow, eyes locked on yours, and kisses you—soft and sure, even with the taste of copper still on his tongue. it’s messy and tender and everything you didn’t know you needed.

“of course i did,” he breathes against your lips. “nobody gets to talk to my girl like that. not while i’m standing here.”

and somehow, just like that—you finally breathe again.

the door to the locker room slams shut behind you.

yixing doesn’t say a word. doesn’t need to. his hands are already on you—gripping your waist, dragging you backward until your spine hits the cold tile wall. his mouth crashes onto yours like a storm, all teeth and tongue, all heat and hunger, like he’s been starving since the second he saw your ex’s hands anywhere near you.

you gasp into his kiss, arms wrapping around his neck, already dizzy from how fast it’s all happening. but yixing? he’s not playing soft tonight. the adrenaline from the fight’s still thrumming through his veins like lightning, his chest still rising and falling like a man not yet done conquering.

“you’re mine,” he growls, voice low and dangerous, lips dragging along your jaw. “mine. you hear me?”

you nod, breathless. “i know, baby, i—”

“say it.” his teeth scrape your neck, hands sliding under your shirt, pushing it up. “say it so loud they can hear it down the damn hallway.”

“i’m yours,” you moan, arching into him as he rips the shirt off over your head, rough and impatient. “i’ve always been yours.”

he groans—deep, animalistic. like that does something to him. like it hits deeper than any punch he threw tonight.

his hands trail down to your waistband, yanking your bottoms down like they offended him. “he touched you,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, “he even looked at you like he still had a chance.”

“but he doesn’t,” you breathe, chest heaving. “he never did.”

his eyes flick up, dark and wrecked and ravenous. “no. he fucking doesn’t.”

and then he sinks to his knees. right there, in the middle of the locker room, concrete under him and vengeance in his eyes. he hooks your leg over his shoulder, mouth already on you before you can even brace yourself. tongue working you open, fast and filthy, like he’s trying to erase any trace of that man’s existence with the way he devours you.

“yixing—fuck—baby—” your fingers twist in his hair, back arching off the wall. he moans into you, eyes locked on your face as he pulls another cry out of you, and another, and another.

you’re still trembling when he stands again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand like a sinner who’s just tasted salvation.

“bend over.”

your knees damn near buckle.

you turn around, hands splaying on the bench, body still slick and sensitive, and he doesn’t even wait—just shoves his pants down, fist around his cock, rubbing it against your folds with a low groan.

“you wanna know what was running through my head the whole fight?” he rasps, voice a growl against your ear as he presses in, thick and heavy. “not strategy. not technique.”

he slams into you hard enough to knock the breath out of your lungs.

“just this.”

again. deeper. harder.

“you. bent over for me like this. dripping. ruined.”

you cry out, knuckles white against the bench, his name pouring out of you like worship.

he fucks you like he’s staking a claim. hips brutal, rhythm punishing, hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. every thrust slaps against your skin, echoing through the locker room with obscene sounds that no amount of noise-canceling will hide.

he reaches around, fingers rubbing your clit, whispering filth into your ear between ragged breaths.

“gonna cum for me, baby? gonna make a mess all over my cock like a good girl?”

you nod, whimpering, and he loves it. loses it.

he grits his teeth, thrusts getting sloppier, rougher. and then you’re shaking, falling apart in his arms, crying out his name like a hymn while he spills inside you with a broken, guttural groan.

you both collapse onto the bench, breathless and wrecked.

he pulls you into his lap, arms wrapping around you protectively. kisses your temple like you’re something fragile after all that ruin.

“you’re mine,” he whispers again, softer this time. “and i’ll never let anyone forget it.”

˗ˏˋ ꒰ a/n ꒱ ˎˊ˗ eeeeep, my first lil fic that isn't with baekhyun !!!! can you believe it :') i hope ya guys enjoyed it hehe <3333 mwah love u forever

[fragmentedtear]

It's not what it looks like, he's obviously drunk. *Sweats* See, there's even a bottle in his hand. I swear he's breathing. [He is not]

[supremefloof]

Episode 5!!!

spoilers below!! a lot of cool info as always this episode :D

LMAO his mom literally has the dead mom haircut

one braid to the side and everything

Can somebody keep track of the "years after commission" thing? it's probably lore important but I don't like math and i can't be bothered

The Lin Ling lookalike is called Pomelo? what's his name in the cn ver i watched with subtitles

WHY did some shady guy want to kidnap him???

watch the twist be that Xia Qing and Shang Chao are like cousins or something and they're after Pomelo to get to him?

Yang Cheng is actually really talented! he's a good actor, self-taught engineer, pretty athletic too.

like DAYUM he was biking really really fast??? and willing to jump off of overpasses and shit with no regard to his own well-being just to save somebody else

...huh that's probably trauma isn't it...

as somebody who has lived in America I was thinking during the chase scene that yk this is not set in the US because if some random slow ass van hit two cars in an intersection for no reason and then tried to run off at bicycle speed in the USA then Yang Cheng would have had BACKUP

YC's combat prowess as just Some Guy without a single point of Trust Value proves to me that without Nice's powers, Lin Ling has abnormally cooked technique. like sweetie. we love you but what is this. God Eye is up there

Again, the power of Trust Value! it only takes 1 person! but that has me really really thinking about exactly how this works.

my running explanation -> to add a point to someone's Trust Value, you need to be a fan/supporter of that person. Most likely this is not as simple as saying "huh that guy's pretty cool" but instead very intentional.

maybe there's a limit to how many people you can be a fan of?

Yang Cheng has a trauma derived habit of Goobing himself (see below) and also has no parents, who are probably normally someone's easiest source of Trust.

This along with the vicious cycle of people with low Trust being treated worse is why his number is at 0. He isn't hated! He has a role in society and people who like him (and would even invite him out!). But none of his connections are deep enough, and he doesn't believe in himself.

Survivors guilt...

more on Trust- it also seems like although most people have some amount of Trust Value, it really really matters what that Trust is for.

eg. the reason society isn't overflowing with op powers from parents telling their 3 year olds that they have the powers of a god is the importance of quantity?

meanwhile the reason Yang Cheng was able to get powers is because somebody truly, genuinely believed they were E-Soul, not just a "hero" or that they could "do it". probably most people with some amount of Trust have people believing that they are good people or just generally liking them.

it does kind of seem like credit score... wonder if it's harder to sign leases on apartments and that kind of thing depending on Trust

for normal people this actually feels pretty poignant! like heroes have the crazy drawbacks, but if most people just have normal lives along with a handful of Trust Value Points, then this also feels like taking further the concept of "we are the product of the most important people in our life".

How does this guy become the Moon Murderer??

some miscellaneous notes:

can somebody find all the little background details? I didn't spot X in this episode's background because he doesn't exist as X yet! but if he is, then holy shit we have some theory crafting to do.

does the NO 8 refer to a person? can somebody translate the words idk what it says

this city has a pretty robust cleanup system! streets are very clean from what I can see, no littering posters in the alleys, very little graffiti (is that purple one dragon boy related?), GlobalGarbage trashbins for landfill and recycling (distributed by city?)... just show me high-speed rail and maybe the Trust Value System IS worth it!!

[redrain-whiteflower]

personally i like og E-Soul more than Yang Cheng.

like, bro killed his childhood hero for... no real reason.

He left Xia Qing alone to fight E-Soul, too.

I really do wonder why he killed Moon but it isn’t surprising due to his new tendency to just murder people.

I feel like maybe he was like Jun Wu and Xie Lian, where Yang Cheng saw that there was another way (a way to be a good hero) and resented Lin Ling for not going down the same path he did. Especially since his friend was shot in the head. He probably wanted to make Lin Ling lose what he had lost.

*coughs* Li Haoling also directed the first season of the TGCF donghua-

random thing, I genuinely don’t believe Lin Ling ever had romantic feelings towards Moon, just a feeling of worshipping an idol and a feeling of duty to help her get free.

...*cough* i only believe in tbhx ships such as wrice, niceling, and wriceling...

[hellcatinnc]

Happy Belated Birthday Caleb

Thought since I was wishing this sexy man a belated birthday I would throw out there some things about him as well as pics from my game that stood out the most about talking to him on his birthday. Oh sweet Caleb however did we live a year without you in our lives until now.

Age: 25

Height: 6'2 ft 188cm

Birthday: June 13th

Sign: Gemini

Job: DAA Fighter Pilot (former) Farspace Fleet's Colonel (current)

Evol: Gravity Manipulation

Something He Is Good At: Cooking

Before he left, Caleb used to be my personal chef for the longest time. His braised chicken wings were my absolute favorite.

He probably rarely comes back to his Skyhaven home... It feels so empty and lifeless.

Whenever Caleb gets sick, he locks himself away in his room, not wanting me to know.

Caleb was the king of the playground, crowned by other kids for his unbeatable strength.

Caleb was Number 5 on his high school basketball team. As his biggest fan, I never missed a single game.

Caleb was a star at DAA. Admirers sent him homemade lunches every day, but he returned every single one.

Caleb delivered the valedictorian speech at the Aerospace Academy's graduation ceremony. I was there in the audience.

Caleb is a proud member of the Anti-Cilantro Club.

As a kid, Caleb was a walking encyclopaedia of Jurassic-era beetles and other random facts.

His representative symbol is an apple, as he has a red apple as his default Moments profile picture, and his necklace has a silver apple pendant with a red gem. His emojis and plushies are also apples.

His Japanese Name Mahiru (マヒル) means some time between middle of the day and night. Inside the game when the Player texts Caleb, its usually around bedtime but if we assume that its’ before midnight, it's likely the two chat during "Mahiru" hours.

His Chinese name Xia Yizhou(夏以晝/夏以昼) , Xia means 'summer' in contrast to Zayne’s winter style.

His Korean name Ha Uju (하우주), Uju means 'universe' perhaps referring to his Gravity Evol.

[secretlypeerless-cucumber]

Chapter V

First

They have been traveling for maybe 2 shichen when Shen Jiu is ready to talk again. Which is bullshit, circulating qi should have taken care of his face so much sooner. 

The copy has been speaking non-stop though.

"... then the Tree Armed Lemur was eating the Emerald Faced Salmon Turtle I had just caught. I was so mad, I hadn't eaten in two days and here that fucking lemur was, stealing my dinner. I mean, I still had the eggs of the Emerald Faced Salmon Turtle. The only problem is that they smell rotten even when fresh and taste like burning trash..."

How many times has Shen Jiu regretted taking this guy in? Sure, his knowledge of beasts is impressive for someone who hadn't had a proper education. However Shen Jiu is of Qing Jing, almost any senior disciple worth their salt can differentiate between an Emerald Faced Salmon Turtle and a Lime Faced Salmon Turtle, Shen Yuan is not unique.

Shen Jiu can't tell if he is letting the copy talk his ass off because he's ignoring him or because he's waiting for something important to slip. Shen Yuan has been particularly useless about any more information about their alleged mother. For someone who looked so enthusiastic about it at first he sure is closed off about it now.

"And a different time I had to eat rotten eggs…"

Oh Heavens, not another rant. "Shut up." He can almost see the village that marks their halfway point, a charming little peasant town. Never before has a trip felt so long and taxing.

Even though the absolute silence that blankets them now is jarring, Shen Jiu refuses the impulse to look back for another half a shichen, at which point he needs to turn to make sure his prisoner hasn't escaped. His eyes stop on the demonic cultivator for a few moments before he gives up and looks at Shen Yuan again.

The first thing Shen Jiu notices is the almost demure manner the other has lowered his head, hands clasped together in his lap, rubbing his thumbs slowly one over the other. The next is the one that takes him aback. 

Shen Yuan's eyes are empty.

What was once dark jade is now almost black -All light had vanished- leaving behind still waters, shallow like a puddle instead of the deep ocean it was before. His face a mask so neutral it can only be considered empty. But Shen Jiu knows his own tells. Lips that are slightly pursed give him away just as easily as the hunched posture does.

"What is it now."

Shen Yuan jumps a little at being addressed, like he didn't expect it even with Shen Jiu looking directly at him for the past few breaths. "Gege said to not speak." Shen Yuan says, so softly it took Shen Jiu's enhanced cultivator hearing to catch. He doesn't even look up as he said that.

One could almost mistake Shen Yuan for a trained servant for a king, so unobtrusive he is almost invisible. A presence easily dismissed or called upon for him to take care of a random task. It, once again, reminded Shen Jiu of the way he himself used to behave when working for the Qiu's.

Shen Jiu refuses to feel bad about this.

"I have been meaning to ask you. Who, exactly, trained you in cultivation?" A little life comes back to the copy's eyes at the question, yet he still does not look up.

Shen Yuan, voice still soft but clear, starts nearly monotonously. "This one's master was one Lai Zhihao. Shifu found this one after he escaped the Xia household" A deep breath, then another. "He didn't take this lowly one as a disciple, but as a servant. Shifu felt uncomfortable being called master so insisted on being called Shifu instead, even if he didn't test this one's meridians until a friend of his asked how he liked having a disciple."

"He was uncomfortable with being called master but hauled a slave around to serve him? What kind of hypocritical asshole would do that?" That earns him a chuckle.

"Shifu was many things; a good man was not one of them." At least Shen Yuan is looking at the little village and not his hands now. Not that it matters to him, but such a subservient attitude makes his skin crawl.

"He is dead, isn't he?"

Now Shen Yuan looks at him, finally. His face is still carefully blank yet eyes intense and fixated on his own. "I killed him." Shen Yuan is waiting for something- a reaction maybe?

"Good"

Prev - Next

Beta'd by: @sillygoofyqueer

[marichild]

hi <3 all members of 3H for the ask meme pls <3 (-kavi/blackwaves)

stares at u ur literally evil. bites u tho.

VEIN

favorite thing about them: if I sat here talking about all the things about vein that fascinate me we'd be here forever. so we'll pick the parts that intrigue me the most — how he's oddly principled / his odd sense of responsibility. this post has a good section about it and I'm like. so heartemoji eyes at it forever. the other thing is that he's so hot and owns himself with an easy fluidity like. wow. stares. I'm not ashamed to admit I have eyes—

least favorite thing about them: can't think about anything that'd make me dislike him (or any character tbh) so I'll say: the level of insanity and feralness I wished to see was not achieved within those four episodes (three, really), so I can only put my hands together and pray for more next season. director li haoling I BELIEVE IN YOUUU

favorite line: with my teeth, sunshine thank you for your cooperation, sweetie~

brOTP: considers. does it even count if I say veinxiao. I don't ship them tbh I just think it's fun to throw them at each other just like that occasionally. maybe all the time. roadtripfic my beloved.

OTP: VEINFEI AAAAA VEINFEI CHEWS ON CONCRETE ROLLS OVER AND DIES. shakes. vein and his easy violence and feral dangerousness with everyone vs. his easy fondness and indulgence for xia fei. I'm gonna shut up before this turns into an essay but I'm a veinfei truther 4ever

nOTP: I'm a multishipper forever I don't have this yet </3 the thing is you can bait me into literally anything with the promise of it being interesting—

random headcanon: not random so much as real and true and fundamental to understanding the universe to me. he's transmasc to me 4ever <3

unpopular opinion: he's not actually as mean and jealous as people like to believe. xia fei is the more possessive one in this relationship — while I do think vein is definitely prone to jealousy, I believe that his version is more lowkey and less upfront. he's rational and logical <3

song i associate with them: I keep saying this but fate by enhypen is a veifei song! it's such a came back wrong song wtf

favorite picture of them: SITS DOWN AND WAILS YUYU ANIMATION MEANS SO MUCH TO ME. SOFTVEIN. LOOK AT THE WAY HE LOOKS AT XIA FEI. idgaf if there's no cp tendency here it's canon to me. excuse me while I tear my hair out and wail

XIA FEI

favorite thing about them: the way he can flip the switch between being cute puppy boy to bitchiest fucker you will ever meet. genuinely that's like ninety percent of what draws me to him with no exaggeration. the other ten percent is his pathetic puppy energy with vein

least favorite thing about them: hmm. I don't really have anything to add on that front unfortunately. the more a character sucks the more I'm fond of them truly.

favorite line:

"Unlike some people, I only go for the best, whether it's a project or a connection. Right, laoban?"

immediately cutting to

"I was wrong, I was wrong, I was wrong! I swear I won't do it again 😭😭 I'll control my temper! I'm sorry 😭😭"

brOTP: xiaofei. you gotta understand that nothing brings me greater joy than seeing two hissy kitties bite and scratch at each other metaphorically or not. I love writing these two it genuinely brings me such delight to do so

OTP: [trembles] VEINFEI VEINFEI VE— [is dragged off into the woods screaming]

nOTP: same as last answer to this

random headcanon: demisexual and the activation key is to puppy friend adopt him somehow or do whatever vein did as long as you're vein

unpopular opinion: he's not actually the soft uwu boy this entire fandom seems to think he is 😭 he's smart and deceptive despite wearing his heart on his sleeve — do yall think vein trusted him with spying on shiguang for liu xiao on a whim ... I'm also convinced he knows or at least is distantly aware that vein is doing, well, very many criminal things. don't u adore him ♡

song i associate with them: BITE ME BY ENHYPEN. veifei discord agrees with me. heh.

favorite picture of them: look at him oh my god. have u ever seen someone be scolded and then head patted so gently. I'm obsessed with this entire sequence I think. I'm obsessed with them in general. waugh.

LIU XIAO

favorite thing about them: ughhh do I have to. sighs. I guess if I had to pick to pick it'd be how mean he honestly is. like. he doesn't outright lie to you or insult you but you can tell because he wants you to know. 🙄

least favorite thing about them: fucking adrenaline junkie FREAK I'm never forgiving him for this shit istg

favorite line: how can you be my friend if you don't do this?

brOTP: for reasons stated above, xiaofei ✨️ truly it's so entertaining.

OTP: xiaochen in the very specific and detailed way I think about them forever

nOTP: once again nonexistent anything can be fun if you try ♡

random headcanon: he's enby aroace and horrible at it + in any universe would bite you for using the correct pronouns on him.

unpopular opinion: in the nicest way possible I genuinely don't believe he's a homewrecker or trying to get between veinfei 🙏 he's at best menacing xia fei bc he thinks it's funny how much feifei doesn't like him, and he literally gets along with vein like. nothing indicates otherwise. to begin with he's probably like ?? at veinfei's weird courting rituals anyway tbh

song i associate with them: honestly I got nothing on this genderfuckthing. in a very xiaochen sense I couldddd probably say like. pisces moon by flower face? all my xiaochen related songs are for the band au helpppp

favorite picture of them: sighs. you're not getting an explanation out of me for the first one. I will say that the second one lives rent free in my head because jfc this stupid fucking adrenaline junkie freak is having so much fun here isn't he. wtf is wrong with him forever.

well that was mildly humiliating