#ill then well i have a lot of pent up anger so

[unhingedselfships]

uuuugh face reveal is scheduled so i'll stop being wishy-washy, tell me not to go panic delete it

[mattsobvimyfav]

For Sport (Matthew Sturniolo & Chris Sturniolo) PT 18

A.n—Hey, y'all, this is gonna be a very, very slow burn. I already have some chapters written, so I will probably fire them quickly. It will be toxic, with angst, smut, and everything you can possibly think of. It happens.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

y/n POV

I dropped Chris off Sunday morning, ignoring all Matt's calls and texts. It was now time for me to go to bed, I grabbed my phone out texting Chris I was driving to school tomorrow but I could drive him if he wanted. I set my alarms and went to bed.

The next morning I woke up with another 3 missed calls and about 15 texts from matt. I turned my phone off and got in the shower to get ready for school. I decided today was a day to look hot since Matt had screwed me over again. I put on sheer black tights with a black tight skirt and white sweater, I threw my hair into a messy half up half down. I grabbed my bag and phone walking downstairs and saying bye to my dad, I slipped on my converse and ran into my car sending Chris a text before leaving.

Once I pulled into the school parking lot I parked next to Olivia and walked towards her car. “Hey babe, you ready to go in?” She asked as she stepped out of her car. “Yeah, Matt made out with Maddy this weekend” Olivia turned to face me with her mouth wide open. “WHAT?” I nodded at her “So I asked Chris to fuck” She slapped my shoulder “Dont spiral” She said wrapping her arm around mine “Yeah, Yeah whatever you say” I giggled.

Matt, Chris, and Nick were standing at my locker “PICKLE YOU LOOK HOT” Chris yelled at me as I walked towards them giggling “Get out of my way, Im going to be late” I pushed Matt out of the way putting in my combo. “Are you going to talk to-” Matt started and I quickly cut him off “Sorry I figured your tongue was held up in Maddy’s mouth” I slammed my locker looking at his shocked reaction before turning and walking away from the boys.

I sat down in through my first two periods completely ignoring everything going on. When I walked into the hall to meet Olivia I saw her with tear streaks, “What's going on?” I asked grabbing her arm “Ask him.” She said pointing to her boyfriend and I immediately knew. “Who was the girl?” I asked her “Kelsey. Look at what she's texting me” Olivia pulled out her phone showing me the nasty texts Kelsey was sending her, calling her names like Olivia had done something wrong “Block her. She does something again tell me. Im not valedictorian, I can do whatever I want” One thing about Olivia, she isn't afraid to fight but I won't let her ruin all the amazing chances she's getting from being so good in school. I turned to Lucas and smacked him across the face “Your a fucking idiot” I said before walking away.

At this point I was pissed off beyond all compare, I love Olivia with all my heart and seeing her so upset is gut wrenching. I spent the entire next to periods trying not to run down the hall and smash Kelseys ugly face in.

I finished the periods getting ready to go to lunch when three people came running down the hallway, Olivia and her two friends “She just called me a fucking bitch and I am about to lose it”

Olivia said and I immediately slammed my locker walking towards where this girls locker is. I saw her and immediately picked up my pace “What's up” I said as I stepped into shoving her to the ground “Wanna be a whore, Ill treat you like one” and right before I could jump on top of her I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist picking me up an pulling me away. “Let go” I yelled before being put down in an empty class room. I turned around making eye contact with Matt and Nick.

“Why would you guys stop me” I said pushing the hair out of my face “You don't need to be suspended right now y/n” Nick said sitting in one of the empty desks “What happened?” Matt asked standing in front of me “Well she got with Livvy’s boyfriend and I had some pent up anger from finding out about you and Maddy” I said rolling my eyes at him “Well this is my cue to leave” Nick said patting my shoulders while he walked out “Matt Im done, you've proven again and again that you an asshole and Im not dealing with it” He looked dumb founded, not knowing what to say “y/n It was a mistake” he said grabbing my arms, I shook him off “Im done Matthew, Im going to lunch” I walked out of the room leaving there going to meet Olivia for lunch.

At the end of the school day I decided to just have Chris over tonight and have Nick and Matt go home because I’d feel bad leaving Matt alone. Chris was walking out with me bothering me about the almost fight “I wish I was there I would've let you fight” He said wrapping his arm around my shoulder “And this is why you are my favorite” we let go getting into my car as he plugged into his phone “What are we doing today?” he asked as I pulled out of the parking spot “Target for snacks, Tj max for clothes, and home for try on haul and movies?” I asked looking at him “Ah, my favorite pass time” I smiled at him while making our way to the store.

Tag-

@worldlxvlys @larnieboox88 @luvangelbreak @maryx2xx

[somekindofsentience]

why secret anger is a better tool than secret sadness, or hiding rage under a persona of nurture.

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR: OMORI, DEMON SLAYER AND OSHI NO KO. I WILL BE SPOILING THE LATTER TWO'S MANGA SO BEAR IN MIND THAT WATCHING THE ANIME ONLY WILL NOT PREVENT YOU FROM FURTHER SPOILERS.

WARNING: DISCUSSIONS OF SUICIDE, GRIEF, LOSS AND MENTAL ILLNESS

We've all seen the character who has secretly been very sad their entire lives. Fuck, some of us are that character, and maybe have been for a while.

It's relatively easy to hide a sad backstory for a character, and it opens room to give them depth later on. And, unique to side or background characters, it allows the protagonist (and by extension, the reader) to connect further with them, giving the façade of plot and sub-plot depth. Of course, it's perfectly possible to do this well - it's possible to do every trope well - but it's also very possible to do this poorly.

And... it's so boring.

Like come on. Sad woman sad. Very sad. We're all sad, because we've been told to feel sad by the author. How sad.

I believe that there are far more fascinating tropes to explore, with much more depth - and I'd like to talk about one of my favourite forms of this. Hiding inner anger is infinitely more interesting, especially if the character can hide it well.

I've chosen three characters to discuss for this - Mari from OMORI, Ai Hoshino from Oshi No Ko, and Shinobu Kochou from Demon Slayer. I think all three of them perfectly capture the "hidden anger" trope very well, and I'll connect all of them, which allows us to understand the purpose of this character archetype overall.

Mari is an incredibly complex character, one whose complexity is actually very easy to miss. Due to Sunny's unreliable narration, we perceive Mari as perfect, since he blocks out any of her personality which mimics the truth. In Headspace, she's an incredibly default NPC, acting as a pillar for quest clues, healing and saving the game. As a player, you come to see her as some sort of comfort, a recurring symbol in irregular places. This evidently changes when Sunny discovers the truth, and we come to accept what he has done. However, Mari is never properly portrayed in the game - we only see her through the lens of the others - which means a lot of the fandom doesn't quite understand her character, let alone understand the selfish nature of perfectionism. There is nothing in the game that suggests she had external pressure causing her perfectionism (although I personally headcanon this), so we must go off it being internally driven.

Mari is not a tragically sad, or gorgeously happy character. She has been punishing herself with pent-up anger. Imagine you've been practicing something for months, over and over, only to find out your duet partner doesn't care anywhere near as much as you do. No-one cares as much as you do. All those months of practice ultimately mean nothing. Every time you pushed yourself to play the same song on repeat until it drove you insane mean nothing, because of this one moment, one stupid angry moment from your brother.

Despite all this, Mari isn't allowed to be angry, which is why the Truth segments still show her acting in an adult fashion (taking the unused Truth descriptions as canon).

In the photos of the truth, Mari looks like a disappointed mother, telling off Sunny. She says she "isn't finished talking...", like a parent. Mari was fifteen when she died. She had no outlet for this rage at all, no time to be a teenager, when she was the mother figure of the group. Her character trope as the "nurturer" trapped her in a hellish cycle of perfectionism, hiding everything until her absolute breaking point - which lead to her death.

In Oshi no Ko, Ai Hoshino is a perfect mother, perfect idol, perfect person. This seems widely agreed by literally everyone, and the manga follows her son's attempts to avenge her murder, and her daughter's attempts to follow in her footsteps. Although the goals of the children change partway through, when Ruby learns the truth of Ai's death and Aqua loses faith in his scheme... Ai remains a pillar of gold. And yet, we find out during the creation of the movie on Ai's life that people around her suspect she was hiding anger.

While I have perhaps... fallen behind... in my reading of Oshi No Ko, I'm just going to go purely off this panel and the previous chapters to analyse. Forgive me, I completely forgot which character says this, everyone's hair looks the same and I can't tell if it's Akane or the lady that adopted Aqua and Ruby. It's been a while.

Ultimately, Ai Hoshino is confused, and this makes her angry. We know she's never felt love before in her life - not until she had her children - which would be incredibly frustrating. You see everyone around you experience happiness and joy, and yet life keeps reminding you that your childhood was shitty, you work in the most insane industry of all time and you're exhausted. There's some implication that Ai's relationship with Aqua and Ruby's father was complicated, so perhaps that's the reason she's furious.

Regardless, Ai is far more complicated than every character portrays her as, which makes her interesting. As a reader, you smell a rat instantly. Something is off about the way she is glamourised, and you know you're missing a piece of this puzzle.

Shinobu outright states that she's been angry her entire life, at least since Kanae's death. She's been mimicking Kanae's sweet smile as an act of remembrance, but Shinobu is not happy, not calm, not sweet like Kanae was. Now, Shinobu isn't the most nurturing figure - at least not to Tanjirou, and not much to Kanao either - but she still acts in that calm, motherly demeanor, mimicking her older sister. In that way, Shinobu is also a perfectionist - she's just got a standard to match up to.

Shinobu is often mocked in the fandom for being "weak", but I think that's not the right way to understand her character. The fact that she doesn't fight off raw strength alone is symbolic, because it tricks the reader into thinking she's sweet and calm. No-one who is that weak can be full of such rage... right?

Mari and Ai Hoshino have further links due to the way they are portrayed after their death - as perfect. Sunny heavily misconstrues his sister, acting as an unreliable narrator for her personality, and it seems as though no-one will ever know what Ai was truly like inside. Instead, characters remark on their outward traits, which fandoms then fall into... guys. you're literally being trapped by the same trap their families and friends fell into. you're being gaslit by two dead women. please try to look past the silly little mirror they tried to reflect themselves in.

Now, what is the purpose of this archetype? They aren't main characters, and they aren't there as a fake display of depth, so what are they there for? All three of these characters die to further the plot - but more importantly, they act as a catalyst for character change in their sibling or children. Mari's death single-handedly destroys an entire friendship group, but it is also the reason they are brought back together. She alone allows Sunny to forgive himself, and within that, he must accept that she wasn't perfect, just as he isn't. Ai's death ruins Aqua and Ruby, but it gives them goals, something to work toward (symbolised with stars in their eyes). Shinobu's death allows Kanao to step forward and confront Akaza, which changes Kanao as a character, but it also ties up Kanae's subplot neatly.

To the player/reader, their deaths are far more important than their lives, but there is much more to explore in their lives than people understand. This is true complexity, and it's frustrating when it's brushed over in aus or fanfics.

Please, dig deeper. Look harder. Turn these dolls into humans, because they are corpses for a reason.

can you tell i find scary women pretty aggagagahgagsa

song i listened to while writing this: テレパス by Yorushika

The song is very good at capturing loneliness, and rage is quite an isolating emotion. Mari, Ai and Shinobu are all hiding an inner version of themselves, and they took that form to their graves.

[thunderwetter]

Ooh what about cosmos

Who? No, just kidding, poor Cosmos, always ignored by his comrades. We won't ignore him though, so let's go!

TLDR; - Has to be lured out of his shell, insecure and doesn't think he's desirable - Once he's convinced, he reveals himself as touch-starved - Likes to be the center of attention and be spoiled and serviced - Enjoys tactile a lot - Being a top makes him cocky, even mean at times - Would never be violent, he'd never risk scaring someone away - Thinks voyeurism is boring, visual stimuli are not his thing

Curious about other characters? My ask box is open!

Longer version:

Cosmos, despite his courageous personality, is quite often dismissed by his comrades and I feel like that is bound to lead to a whole bunch of problems regarding self-value and confidence. He doesn't really feel like anyone would take interest in him and he also doesn't want to be a bother, so he's a bit held back in that regard. I imagine he'd be a bit difficult to chat up, but once he realizes that there's no ill intent, he'd become flattered and chattier. I feel like at parties he'd start real quiet, but after a few drinks he'd be prone to getting into trouble. Don't get the UFO drunk, guys, he will be a problem. Maybe not yours, but someone else's.

Don't get me wrong, I don't think he's easy to get into berth or anything, I actually think it'd take quite a bit of talk to even convince him that he's attractive, but once his partner has him in his grasp, oh boy he will not let go. He'd be soft as butter underneath someone else's servos. Due to his missions usually isolating him from everybody else, he's gotten seriously touch-starved, leading to him being reeeally clingy at times.

In berth, he'd start out as a shy one, unsure of where to put himself, but once he feels comfortable, he'd regain his confidence and become more active. He's used to only following orders without any acknowledgement, but give him the okay and he'd become almost demanding. He enjoys being the center of attention for once and it gets him off massively if this is played into. Cosmos strikes me as the kinda guy who just absolutely loves to be spoiled rotten and pampered and peppered with kisses and affection.

These two things I believe would combine into a general preference for tactile play and also servicing that is not direct interface, so oral service and the likes of it. He has a looot of sensors that crave to be touched, so his partner could have a lot of fun just touching him in all kinds of places~

I think if he tops a partner that's noisy or otherwise very open about showing pleasure, he'd get quite cocky and start to talk dirty, even throw some degradation in here and there. He's so used to taking everybody's shit and has a lot of pent-up anger. He wouldn't get violent or cruel, never, but he would become a little mean. It would feel good to not be on the short end of the stick for once, but he's also very intent on not scaring anyone away.

Despite being a surveillance bot, which a lot of other bots expect to be into voyeurism, he actually does not see any value in it. Watching becomes boring when it's your ob, at least from his POV. That's why visual stimuli in general don't really do it for him. He'd much rather shut his optics and concentrate on his other senses!

Aaand yeah I think that's it for Cosmos, thanks a lot for asking about him! I can already imagine some bots that he'd get along with well 👀

[meteodrives]

déjà vu. he stood outside of seventh heaven, waiting there as if only his time was precious — as if she forced him to come here. what an inconvenience i must be. the anger that had been simmering throughout the day had bubbled over upon catching sight of the blond spikes. she didn't know what caused that irrational feeling, but he & everyone near to her fell victim to a sharp tongue. it was embarrassing & she wanted nothing more than to have a moment alone — to freely release every pent - up emotion that caused her stomach & heart alike to ache. cloud, despite not meaning to, hindered that. she was exhausted at that point.  ( sitting through yet another conversation ,  driven by turmoil & growing tensions  ...  unthinkable . )  a steady pace was kept, heading to the front door ;  the intention was to evade him, but that was easier said than done. cloud was not someone she could ignore, despite the fact that he's mastered treating her such a way. at least in youth. more wood to add to an increasingly concerning flame. 

          upon stepping up to the plate, her eyes didn't meet his.  ( a lot could be said through a simple gaze but ,  whatever hers held ,  it was already written on every fine line that graced her features . )  one look & he would know it all. she'd not give him that luxury today nor entertain the concept of a potential, casual discussion.   ❛  you should leave .  ❜   a tone so cold, it was surprising he hadn't been the one to voice it. not an ounce of clarification was provided, opting to side with simplicity. she'd hope he didn't think pushing him away was a permanent fixture, when he's been the one she tried to keep closest ;  but burn out approached. to have him witness such a thing would cause her immense shame — their reunion not far & forgotten. she was older now. burdening others with such foul moods would not prove that. the ill - mannered lockhart girl, everyone would say. 

when cloud did not immediately walk away, some part of her grew irritable.   ❛  don't you have to get back to rufus ?  ❜   it's a name spat out like venom, shocking her as well. how uncalled for it had been. before he had the chance to respond, a hand reached to open the door, nearly leaving a smoke trail from how quickly she entered.   ❛  i swear  ...  ❜   her head shook, fists tightening with bitter sentiments unheard & unseen to this degree by him. tifa lowered her voice, but not enough so. he had to have caught every word, hanging on only after hearing her mention his boss, assumably.   ❛   ...  everything would be so much easier if he'd just  —  ❜   

*      ◞      @shinramade            |​            plotted starter !

[alyjojo]

Family Ties 🤍 - July 2023 - Aquarius

Overall energy: 6 Swords

You’ve moved away from your family for the most part, either putting literal distance in between you or emotional distance for sure with Queen of Swords, which is your air energy. I do get that you try to be impartial, and fair, and this may have been a long time coming after much thought and deliberation, with The Hermit. You’re better off alone. I don’t get fully alone, this Queen communicates, it’s just…few and far between. And these relationships lack love, substance, a deeper connection that one should feel with family. Not to say that you don’t, more that I don’t see it in the others either. You may have been on your own for a long time. Or you tried long enough, and gave up.

Mother: Strength & Judgement

Mom may have been sick or has passed on already. It’s possible she passed when you were very young, and you may not even remember her. It’s also possible she split from your father, who may have left and later returned, and she would not forgive him. Or that’s switched. Where you are concerned, I don’t get much energy from you regarding her. It’s like you don’t know her well. You don’t judge her, and you don’t have a relationship with her, staying very impartial. Fair. Balanced. You may have been raised predominantly by your father. She has heavy Scorpio energy.

Father: Page of Pentacles, 5 Pentacles, 2 Swords

Dad was/is a bit of a rolling stone, moving from place to place, you’ve probably lived in several places. Due to money, various jobs, it was necessary for him. The problem with that is the inability to form close bonds that last a long time, in childhood, which is probably why you’re so used to Hermit energy. You could be similar to him in many ways. You’ve never left him entirely, but there are long periods when you’re away from each other, it goes from feeling abandoned to a brand new start, feeling connected, and back to feeling abandoned. It’s a cycle between you. They can never seem to get it together, you may not either, in a financial or responsibility sense, and because of this, you don’t judge him either. Your Queen of Swords shows you being balanced & fair, above all else, though cautious. Naturally guarded & emotionally detached from any outcomes, you protect your heart. You’re always indecisive when it comes to Dad, but he’s that way too. You’re a lot alike.

Siblings: Queen of Wands & Ace of Pentacles

You have a sibling that married into money most likely, they’re courageous, headstrong, and have never let anything keep them down. When they have a goal, they go after it, no matter what it takes, and they probably have a good support system to help them get there. You probably talk to them the most, this shows you as being good friends and helping each other out often.

Grandparents: 9 Wands & 4 Cups

If you’re pissed at anyone, it’s a grandparent. I don’t know which one, Sag energy is here. When times were the hardest, these person/people could care less, and you have a lot of pent up anger, stress, hurt, and sadness regarding these people and their complete disregard of you, your parents, siblings, etc. There’s definitely no relationship with them.

Spiritual Ancestors: Page of Swords & Page of Cups

This seems to be referring to your sibling, and the need to use this Hermit mode you’re already in to sort through your feelings for this person. At one time, you were on the same level. But at some point, this person took a chance and it worked out for them. There are feelings of bitterness, jealousy, looking down on them, inside of you, only because they got a chance you felt you didn’t have the option to take. Idk if they flex on you and try to provoke a reaction, competitive nonsense and rubbing your face in things. It’s possible. Spirit wants you to be genuinely happy for them, yes for them but more so for you. You’re not to wish ill on anyone, and I don’t think you actually do, you try to be fair and they are that one person that knows how to trigger all of your buttons. You two could be opposites in every way. 6 Swords being your energy is the best energy for you to be in, it’s Aquarian energy, continue releasing things from the past and focusing on yourself. Be happy for your family’s successes while keeping your distance, like you do. I get that you’re in the thick of a spiritual awakening of sorts. Sibling got the money & love. You get the wisdom, spiritual gifts & generational baggage. For now. They’re going to be settling down as you’re waking up, you’re truly opposites…and nothing is set in stone, you’re still moving ❤️ You’ve faced these challenges together, they deserve happiness. So do you. And there’s some subtext in the clarifications that someday they’re going to need you, so celebrate their ups while they’re up, you’ll always be someone they can count on & vice versa, when things come down. But you don’t actually want that for them 🙏

Oracle:

Recycle

Learn from the past and apply it to creating your vision of the future.

Insight

See beyond appearances, masks, cliches, and cultural stereotypes to gain insight.

[cruelsxmmcr]

♡ beach hut prompt 03: stella rios

who did you share a bed with last night? how did you sleep?

“I shared with Naomi. It was fun! We talked a little and gossiped before we went to sleep, so it was a fun ending to a messy night.”

are you getting on with any of the originals? who’s at the top of your list?

“So rude of you to ask me that. I mean, I get along with most of them. Naomi’s great. So is Romi. I haven’t yet talked to Callie this morning, but I’m getting the feeling she’s avoiding me because she chose Angel to focus on and had to reject Charlene. I don’t get the impression Callie can focus on multiple people at once. We’ll see when we talk anyway.” A pause before she quirks her eyebrow at the producers. “Okay, you want me to talk about Sebastien and Rhys.” Boring. “Sebastien apologized, but we’re not exactly talking, so it’s a little weird there, but it’s fine. That boy Rhys has a lot of pent up anger, and so much of what he says doesn’t make sense, but I don’t really care what he does. I tried.” She shrugs.

do you see yourself starting to focus on one person or are you still exploring?

“I mean, there’s not much room to explore at this point. But either way, at this point I feel like I get along the most with Naomi, so it makes sense for me to focus there and get to know her better. She’s someone I see myself getting along with on the outside for sure.”

how was the beer pong game? what was most memorable about it?

“That we won and the originals can’t play to save their life?” she teases with a smile. “Getting to kiss Callie was memorable, though that didn’t lead anywhere since she went ahead and settled on Angel.” She’s a little petty about that, still, but she’ll get over it now that she’s let it out. “I don’t regret what I said to Rhys, but I do hate that it came out in front of everyone. I wasn’t doing it out of ill-intent, honestly, but someone had to tell him the way he’s acting is not it.” A pause. “The Jude and Jenny kiss, too? They really know how to empty a room, huh?”

what was it like seeing the postcard? what was the most shocking part of it?

“I can’t say I’m shocked by what I saw. I expected most of it, honestly. Though I thought Dylan would stay loyal? Color me shocked there.” A pause. “I felt bad for Naomi, Callie and Romi, though, even if it’s something they were expecting, it sucks big time to see.”

who did you vote for the hideaway? why?

“I voted for Dante! He’s the one who deserves it the most, obviously. The boy’s thriving.”

if you could have voted for an original to go in the hideaway, who would you have voted for?

“Naomi or Romi. They deserve it the most. Besides, a part of me wants to see if Romi would choose Dante now that Jude fumbled the bag so bad. And well, I want to see if Naomi would pick me, too.” She smiles coyly.

[insipid-drivel]

Hi there, this is awkward but what does each alter take care of for Insipid?

It's not awkward at all! We all have certain "jobs" that we specialize in that are based on both natural proclivities and on our personalities.

Alex (me) handles most health-related day to day stuff. I make sure the meds get taken on time, refills are called in, and organizers are arranged every week. I also help out with stuff like treating illnesses and injuries. I usually get called a doctor, but I'm really just kind of a permanent med student. Medicine's my thing.

Odd (yes that's his real name) isn't a big talker and usually doesn't say much without at least one insult included. He prefers to write and paint to express himself, but is essentially the epitome of "the one guy that never talks until nobody knows what to do". He's honest, doesn't give many fucks, and contributes to things like writing projects and other crafts. He's the guy we call on when someone needs to be told to go fuck themselves while walking backwards out of a crappy situation. His best friend is Marchosias, and Marchosias talks more than enough for the both of them.

Marchosias is demonic in nature and used to be aggressive and vicious toward Insipid when we were very young. His whole deal was a misapplication of pent-up anger and loathing directed toward Insipid's abusers. He's probably the most stereotypical of the "bad alter" stereotype, but the reason for it is because he didn't understand how to apply his anger and motivation productively. After he learned some manners (read: Cassandra beat the everloving shit out of him), he's become a great guardian and protector. He can break through flashbacks and lucid dreams. He's very chatty, but if I were to sum up his DND alignment, I'd say he's "Chaotic Bastard" all the way.

Sal is the in-brain blorbo. cinnamon bun. precious bab. He's a natural therapist or counselor-type, loves all things cosmetics, and is generally the best boi for if you need cheering up. He and Insipid heckle bad horror movies together. He also handles our self-care, wardrobe, and even gift choices. We will all collectively kick your ass in a Wendy's parking lot if you make him cry.

Cassandra is basically my "twin". She's the eldest of us all and the most protective. She kept Insipid from being diagnosed until relatively recently so we wouldn't end up being institutionalized or not given an opportunity for Insipid to choose what to do with us for themselves. She's a pretty standard "Enforcer", you could say. She's able to induce temporary states of pain asymbolia (can't suffer from pain but can register if you're hurt) and has saved Insipid's life a few times from various circumstances.

Aever is basically my boyfriend. It's kind of hard to explain how it works for us, but his interests and capabilities are especially tuned into Insipid's central nervous system (brain and spinal cord + some other large nerves). He's able to construct mental safe spaces kind of like the Holodeck on Star Trek to provide us with settings to write in as well as safe spaces for if Insipid needs a rest. In cases where Insipid's in a lot of nerve pain, Aev's been able to get in there in ways Cass sometimes can't and shut it down.

That's just what we can do on our own. We're able to work in tandem or in groups. The main six of us are always on-shift and rotate duties based upon the situation and who needs rest. We're able to do things like redirect hypervigilance from C-PTSD, to halting emotional breakdowns, to writing stories featuring us all. Writing is how we got to where we are now, as well as how we stayed hidden for most of Insipid's life. We talked to them as their "characters" would in their imagination, which was also how we were able to develop our own unique identities and even appearances! The dude in our profile pic is a commissioned portrait of Odd. He smokes like a broken stove and doesn't remember how to smile.

Thanks for asking us! If you have a question for any specific one of us, just say so. We can switch pretty fast when we're just typing.

[sweetdreamsbuck]

Fluffy thought:

Imagine trying to carve something out of wood as a gift for our beloved lumberjack. I'm sure his heart would absolutely melt at the sight of your shitty little creation, but he'd also be devastated when he saw the band-aid on your thumb from a rogue slice and need to kiss it better. :,)

Home

beefy lumberjack!bucky x f!reader

wc: 3.7k

warnings: annoyingly sweet fluff. mention of blood. a lot of suggestive language, nothing explicit except for a million kisses and some playful biting and pinching. (this is in the lumby and bunny au) nicknames bunny, sweet girl, good girl. lots of teasing and lots of love. bucky comforting reader's anxiety and injury. he's ridiculous and dramatic and he LOVES his bunny

a/n: this is a work of insanity. i need to be stopped. this is absolutely absurd and absolutely is a clear look at my mental instability the last few weeks. i need my lumby to make it all better <3 not edited and unfortunately all mistakes are my own

i do not give permission to translate, copy, or share any of my work

A small, unfinished model of Bucky’s cabin sitting on the kitchen table stared back at you; uneven sides and lopsided roof mocking you in its imperfection.

Bucky’s hands would never touch something so terrible.

The tears of frustration welling in your eyes since the first time the bulky knife slipped from your hand were now silently making their way down the sides of your face.

Grabbing the wood and the smallest carving knife, you attempt to finish mimicking the perfect shingles Bucky had delicately dressed his cabin roof in.

It was now the fifth fumble.

The wood was too clumsy between your shaky hands, the knives meant to smoothly pierce through the limewood all too foreign and ill-fitted for your hold.

Bucky made his carving hobby look so easy.

Tears were now clouding your vision; anger and frustration with your skill and this incapability of showing Bucky a small gesture of your love rendering you hot with emotion. Your fogged vision would hardly grant a saving moment of grace to see that your grip on the knife was too far down, too close to the sharp edge of the blade.

One last frustrating bout of rage was all it took– the knife slipped, piercing the sensitive skin between your thumb and pointer. The pain hardly affected you– your nerves were stunned from anger and the blood immediately rushed to find the source of the throbbing discomfort– but it was truly the last sign from the universe assuring you just how idiotic of an idea this was that sent your emotions flying.

Bucky could never deserve something as pitiful as this messy mockery of his talent and devotion. Bucky was too good for you.

How was something so below amateur going to afford any semblance of gratitude for this life Bucky has shown you? How was this shitty token of your love deserving of the man who gave you everything and more? Did he even know you loved him?

As a defeated shit fell from your lips so did the offending blade and mini-cabin, tumbling to the floor of the kitchen. You watch a small trail of blood trickle down your palm and onto the tile beneath your feet, confirming the silent fear that you’d only ruin all the good Bucky brought into the universe. Your tears soon joined, mixing and trying to wash away the red tainting your tense and shaking fingers.

Quickly moving towards the sink to clean your hand, a hiss escapes your throat from the cool water stinging the affected area, gasps for air and sharp exhales battling for reprieve between frustrated hiccups. Once the blood seemed to slow in its haste, you move to the bathroom to find a couple of bandages to dress the wound.

A pretty cut that will leave a pretty scar to memorialize this pretty shitty day.

Weeks of pent-up anxiety and emotion seemed to have finally reached their boiling point, bubbling over the surface of this almost funny ridicule of your feelings; manifested with promise of hot tears, a lousy gift, and pain.

Pain of your new cut– pain of not being worthy of Bucky’s love.

In your frantic state, you hardly had time to process the sound of a key in the lock, the sound of Bucky’s distant “Bunny, I’m home!” followed by the swift click of the front door and a relieved sigh from your lumberjack.

He was home early.

“Where are you? Know I’m early, wanted to surprise you,” you hear his voice call out as he throws his keys somewhere in the living room, heavy boots and coat following. Your eyes snap up to find your distressed image in the bathroom mirror: the shock suddenly hitting you that if he walked a tiny bit further into his home, he’d find the ugliest cabin he’s ever seen in his life. The thought of your distressed state, a few droplets of blood, or of the bandaids dressing your hand is completely remiss from your concerns.

Forget the mess you are: he can not find that cabin.

Quickly finishing up the bandaids and wiping away your tears, you practice a forced smile, frantically moving to go greet him. “Hi baby, was just finishing up in the bathroom…” your voice calls without faltering, carrying you safely towards the living room. The sight of his towering form stops you dead in your tracks; your grimace quickly falling as you take in the soft flush covering his beaming face, the beautiful bouquet of flowers held by his massive hand, and the perfectly wrapped box peeking out from underneath his arm.

On a day you intended to shower him in love like he always did for you, there he was; smiling from ear to ear with a glisten swimming in his baby blues, ready to drown you in love and donning more gifts– blissfully unaware of just how undeserving you feel of the love he worships you with.

Tears immediately fill your eyes, the emotions hitting in full force like a rough kick to the gut. Your hands shakily move to cover your face in hopes of shielding your embarrassing outburst and stressful last few hours– weeks– from your perfect man.

Bucky’s smile falls comically fast, swiftly dropping the gifts and replacing them with your trembling form. You barely have a moment to breathe as his large hands pull you into the warmth of his chest and into the embrace of his soft lips caressing your skin. “Bun, what’s wrong? What happened? Was it something I…these are your favorite I thou–” the force of your briskly shaking head cuts him off. His hands move up and down the length of your back as he faintly rocks you from side to side.

“N-no Buck. They are. I love them, I just…” his lips softly kiss along your hands shielding your face, tracing along your knuckles until you shakily remove them. Bucky quickly brushes his nose against your forehead, his lips following to press the most delicate of kisses there. As his lips gently explore your forehead, a hum against your temple prompts you to continue your thought. “I just… you do so much for me. You always make me feel so loved. And I really wanted to make you something… something that means a lot, to me. And I couldn’t even manage to do that and then there you come, waltzing through the front door with more gifts and I, gosh, Bucky. I love you– so fucking much. I’m not used to someone caring about me and I just worry I don’t show you enough just how much I love you… I worry someone could love you better and I fear you might realize it and so I tried to make you this stupid wooden gift and–” the force of his lips against yours cuts off your manic rambling, his body crushing you in a grasp driven by all of his body weight and then some. His palms rush to cradle your face between them, forcibly angling your head so not even your body could try and deny the intensity of his intentions.

His lips moving against yours hungrily, animalistically, needing to show you just how wrong your anxious thoughts are. But your words stirred something in him– a pain he never knew could exist.

How could you think so little of yourself– of this love you shared?

The tormented confession of your fears causes a tear to roll down his cheek and a pained groan to rumble in his chest, fueling his desperation further while continuing to steal the air from your lungs and render you captive to his fervor.

When the room starts to feel like it’s spinning, he pulls you against him tighter, his hands dragging down your neck and back possessively, roughly moving to dig into the dips of your sides as his tongue ravishes you. Bucky pulls your head away from his once your body goes slack, completely melting into him and surrendering your breath.

His large hands tug your waist against him, his right hand sliding up to firmly hold your forehead to his while grasping the side of your neck feeling the fast flutter of your pulse under his palm.

As the air chokes to regenerate inside both of your lungs, he holds his eyes to yours, piercing you with a pointed sincerity Bucky has never quite shown you before. “I’ll deprive you, of all the oxygen in the world... before I let another thought like that cross your mind.”

A cry.

A promise.

A warning.

A plea of desperation.

His gruff voice wraps itself deep within your gut, chilling every last bone and nerve not already stunned from his kiss. “You are the only thing that matters to me. Feel how you almost passed out? That’s what I feel every day. Every morning; every time I get to come home to see you; every time you greet me near my shed; just now when you kissed me back. Still can’t believe you kiss me back bunny– every single time. Feel how fast you get my heart beating?” he asks, bringing your hand to his chest.

“Every damn time you blink those eyes at me I feel like I might fall over. Every time you smile at me your eyes do this thing and you have no idea... makes me feel like the most beautiful thing alive. Every time these fingers touch me…” he trails off, his eyes closing for a moment while a teasing shiver wraps up the bumps of his spine, causing him to clutch your hand tighter to his chest.

“You have no idea what your love does to me, how treasured you make me feel. There is no one– nothing, that can love me the way you do. Don’t ever let yourself doubt that for a second. I need you. I’ll lock you in this damn cabin for the rest of your life until you know how perfect your love is, okay?” he finishes with that smirk you love, a soft playfulness hidden behind the sincerity and plea of his words.

Bucky’s eyebrows raise expectantly, eyes searching yours for your understanding. Bringing your hand to his lips, he rubs circles into your waist while a bright smile spreads across your face.

A shocked nod of your head warms his body, watching reverently while the air still struggling to fill your lungs goes straight to your head, leaving you giddy and wide eyed in his hands.

Attacking your face with kisses, he wraps himself around your upper and lower back. “So I think something about a gift was mentioned…” he baits with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

A pained groan leaves your lips and you reluctantly pull away from his grip, moving towards the kitchen floor to grab the wooden carving. “I’m no expert, hell I’m no amateur either… but this cabin you’ve welcomed me into is the only place I’ve ever felt at peace in. And I wanted to make you something to show that… it’s really not good, tragic, actually. Is the best word for it. You make it look easy…” you trail off, his eyes rendering you speechless with the intensity of their unblinking adoration you’ve only ever known from them. “Here,” you whisper. Your nerves and anxious thoughts appear all too naked, all too comfortable creeping back in and holding your feet frozen to their spot on the floor.

If you ever doubted Bucky Barnes needed you, the way his enormous stature falls before you might just quell that fear. And if you weren’t so concerned with the thought of him hating your gift, maybe you would’ve seen it– would’ve seen a sparkling breath of awe overtake his features; the shiver of boyish joy that teased up his spine and sparked along his fingertips; the delighted tremble in the muscles of his cheeks as they worked overtime to keep from splitting in half at the elation of his newly ignited nerves.

All you can focus on is the way the small cabin looks, even more pitiful between his large hands. The sides and roof looking worse off cradled between the two things that have only ever made you feel nothing less than perfect– nothing less than loved.

His mouth opens and closes to say something, but air and language seem to escape him. The wood gets examined by his hands, by the soft tracing of the pads of his fingertips, by his awed and unwilling to close eyes, flipping it round and round and upside down until he finds a very messy engraving you managed to carve in.

‘You.

My home’

He chokes out a laugh, tears rushing to the surface and dripping with a joyous shake of his head. “And you think someone else could… Bunny,” he whimpers. “Fuck, I love you. I love you. I love this, I’m never going to look at this and want to do anything but love you harder.”

Something changes the moment his eyes lock on you.

Something foreign and new– an excitement shown in a tight shift of his jaw, a dark smirk growing along his stubble-clad cheeks. A click of his tongue sends a shiver down your spine, his eyes and grin drowning you in this new temperature and reducing you to a puddle all for Bucky to swim in.

“This” he states, holding the cabin up towards you, “is dangerous, Bun… you don’t know what this means to me. Don’t understand what this does to me…” he deeply groans, shifting the weight from his left knee to his right, placing the small cabin safely behind him and prompting you to finally realize that all this time he’s been on his knees.

When did he get down there?

“I feel like a new man, bunny. You can’t just go around looking the way you do, loving me the way you do, making me gifts with my own damn wood– fuck,” he whispers, realization washing over his smug features. A tilt of his head and a tight scrunch of his eyes sets up his next pained cry, “You used my knives, didn’t you? Fuck bun, that’s hot. God I love you…” he groans, working his way towards you on his hands and knees, thoughts of the cabin forgotten as he hungrily drinks in your giggling and amused figure.

“Bucky…” you chide, backing slowly away from his playfully quickening crawl. “What are you doing?”

He chuckles lowly, the vibrations felt in the air as his teasing stalk backs you into the corner of the kitchen. “Where you goin’ bun? Running from me? It’s your fault… you turned me into this. I used to be a lonely little man, then I found my bunny…”

A giggle leaves your lips, a shake of your head and a groaned “Bucky” filling the air as he reaches your place against the wall. Widening his eyes at you, he shrugs his shoulders tauntingly.

“Looks like there’s nowhere left to go, bun,” his large hands brush against your calves, pulling you from the wall as they make their way up the backs of your legs. His large stature sits back on his knees, hands squeezing along your thighs and moving to rest on your hips as an earnest twinkle blazes vibrantly inside the heat of his stare.

“It’s unacceptable you’d ever think your love isn’t enough,” he sighs, gently kissing your stomach. “I’m your home? Sweet girl… you’re my home, my life, my little bunny.”

He rests his chin on your stomach, looking up at you with such radiance that your knees could give out. There’s no room for doubt– he truly means every word.

“Might have to remind you just how perfect you make me feel, just how well my good girl loves me. It’s alright bun, just need me to be a little mean, right?” he questions with a tilt of his head, an ungodly hot sneer stretched proudly against his cheeks as his hands move to playfully pinch your thighs. “Hmm? Just gotta get you on the same page. And I don’t know about you bun, but I’m feeling some strong, new emotions. So if you need me to be mean, I’ll bite. Your love makes me feel crazy things bunny. As long as you know that, I’ll do whatever it takes to show you. ”

You roll your eyes and laugh loudly as he rests his head on your hip, prodding his nose into your upper thigh while he bites teasingly. Cradling his face in your hands, you lean down and kiss the space between his brows, your hand with the bandaids hiding your cut brushing faintly against his cheek and through the locks of hair framing his face.

He playfully growls and bites at your wrist, his hands pinching and tickling along the backs of your thighs as you squirm and giggle in his hold. “Ohhh bunnyyyy,” he sings brightly as his hands continue to tease your thighs, “Stop moving around, you know I like it when they jiggle.”

Squealing and wriggling further, you flail your arms and move your hands to push him away from you, your bandaids catching his eye in the process. He immediately stops, his face falling as a soft gasp leaves his lips.

He shuffles on his knees to sit straight, taking your injured palm into his hold. “Bunny, what’s this? When did this get there, has this been here the whole time?” his fingertips trace softly over the bandaids, scared to apply any unwanted pressure. His eyes reluctantly leave the bandages to meet yours, Bucky’s worry and the need to know now screaming fiercely behind the dazzle of their shine.

“S’nothing Bucky, just a little papercut,” you mumble, a soft dismissal in the lowering bow of your head and an attempt to pull your palm from his grasp.

But he knows you. He knows what it means when you talk to him without looking him in the eye.

Bucky tugs at your arm, angling his concerned expression so you have no choice but to face his unease.

“Are you okay? What’s on your hand?” he speaks softly, tender concern laced within each syllable and consonant. It’s no use. You see the blood showing through the thin material of the tragically colored bandaids– you know he can too. “What happened?” he whispers.

Sighing in defeat you smile sadly and confess, “Cut myself trying to make you that– gift… the knives kept slipping, and well,” you mutter.

“Oh bunny…” he quickly presses his lips to your palm, to your knuckles, to the outsides of the bandaids and down to their middles. “I’m so sorry,” another kiss to your wound. “Is it okay?” a kiss to your thumb. “Is it still bleeding?” a lingering peck to the base of your pointer. “Do I need to take you to a doctor?”

You shake your head and hum out a no, the sweetness of Bucky acting better than any remedy a doctor could provide. It wasn't that deep of a cut; you wouldn’t need stitches— Bucky could make it all better.

He always knew how.

He cradles your hand to his face, rough callouses of his fingertips tracing the outside of your knuckles as his stubble and lips trace the skin of your palm. “Can I see it?”

He pushes himself off of his knees as you move to take the bandaids off, the hesitant shrug of your shoulders enough to encourage him to swiftly lift you from the floor and into his arms.

Wrapping your legs around him while his hands grip underneath your thighs, he holds you tightly to him while bringing you to the couch. He plops down moving your hands to his chest while motioning with a tap of his hand on your legs to curl them up into his lap.

Bucky takes your hand, concern and worry still etched deep within the lines of his face, his eyes tracing over the evidence of the clean slice his knife afforded you.

“Can’t believe you got this from my knife,” he pouts, a fresh shower of kisses raining down gently on the crease of your hand. “And all because you wanted to make me something...” He gently traces the cut with his knuckle, scared his fingertip will be too harsh. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I’ve been carrying on… my sweet girl could’ve bled out by now,” he mumbles dejectedly, his eyes widening in pained sincerity.

“Cause I know you and that pout… didn’t want you feeling bad.” He closes his eyes and presses another lingering kiss, a huff of frustrated air cooling the cut and sending a gentle chill along your arm. Smirking to yourself, you kiss his forehead and whisper, “And you’re the most dramatic person alive… you would’ve called an ambulance if I told you right away. Just needed you– just need you. That’s all.”

He scoffs, his expression feigning innocence with a soft hue of pink spreading and painting his features. “What! No I…no I woul– whatever bunny,” he concedes, a smirk growing behind the sweet flush of your precious man. “I’m not convinced you’re okay bun. This cut looks pretty deep… it has to hurt now that the shock’s worn off… lemme kiss it better, hmm?”

“Kiss it better? What the hell have you been doing the last 10 minutes then, huh?” you simper, his lips already making their way to your wrist.

“I was checkin’ to make sure you were okay… not that the pain went away. Can’t have my bunny hurting because she tried to love me too hard– can we? Lemme fix it sweet girl, I gotcha bunny.”

With each “new” kiss, a reverent sigh followed. Bucky’s eyes closed in what he deemed necessary adoration, lips softly caressing the wound you once thought would only remind you of grief. But now– when you’d see it, you’d only think of the love of your sweet boy and the theatrics you spark in him.

“Gotta show you how much I love these precious hands… they love me so much one of ‘em got hurt because of it. But we can’t have that happening again…” he mentions, an air of sobriety potent in his words. “These hands deserve nothing but the love they always show me. I need them. You hurt them again bunny and you’re not gonna like what happens…” he croons, a sly twinkle in his eye at the thought.

“Oh yeah? What happens?” you giggle, his lips dancing along the ridges and veins of your fingers and the back of your hand.

With a low chuckle pressed against your wrist, his eyes flit up to lock on yours. “If you think I’m ridiculous now bun, you’ve got another thing coming. Better be good and listen to me. I always get what I want. And what I want is my good, little bunny.”

[fannish-karmiya]

Wei Wuxian’s Position in the Jiang Household

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

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

A Companion to Upper Class Children

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

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

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

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

(Chapter 24, Exiled Rebels translation)

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

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

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

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

[...]

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

[...]

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

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

[...]

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

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

(Chapter 71, Exiled Rebels translation)

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

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

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

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

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

(Chapter 71, Exiled Rebels translation)

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

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

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

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

(Chapter 13, Exiled Rebels translation)

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

(Chapter 16, Exiled Rebels translation)

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

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

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

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

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

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

[...]

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

[...]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[...]

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

(Chapter 90, Exiled Rebels translation)

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

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

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

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

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

Jiang Cheng instantly stood up.

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

[...]

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

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

(Chapter 18, Exiled Rebels translation)

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

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

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

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

(Chapter 14, Exiled Rebels translation)

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

(Chapter 52, Exiled Rebels translation)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Chapter 59, Exiled Rebels translation)

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Chapter 56, Exiled Rebels translation)

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

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

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

[...]

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

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

[...]

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

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

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

(Chapter 58, Exiled Rebels translation)

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

A Lower Status Family Member

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

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

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

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

(Chapter 86, Exiled Rebels translation)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(MDZS Donghua, Episode 3, Guodong Subs)

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

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

(Chapter 13, Exiled Rebels translation)

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

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

(Chapter 14, Exiled Rebels translation)

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

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

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

And so, Wei WuXian was punished again.

(Chapter 14, Exiled Rebels translation)

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

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

(Chapter 18, Exiled Rebels translation)

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

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

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

[...]

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

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

[...]

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that his back is heavily scarred from it:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Chapter 87, Exiled Rebels translation)

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

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

[...]

Jiang YanLi almost cried from her mother’s pinching, mumbling, “Mom, A-Xian and the others were hiding here to relieve the heat and I came here on my own. Don’t blame them… Do… Do you want some watermelon… I don’t know who gave them to us, but it’s really sweet. Eating watermelon in the summer is great for cooling down and quenching thirst. I’ll cut them for you…”

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

She both tries to deflect her mother from her anger, and also outright states that Wei Wuxian and the other boys weren’t at fault. Jiang Yanli seems to be the only one at Lotus Pier who ever does this.

After the war, Wei Wuxian attends social events at Jiang Cheng’s side but is never quite treated as an equal, either. See how at the Flower Banquet, Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue greet Jiang Cheng but not him:

Suddenly, a voice spoke, “Sect Leader Nie, Sect Leader Lan.”

Hearing the familiar voice, Wei WuXian’s heart jumped. Nie MingJue turned around again. Jiang Cheng came over, dressed in purple, hand on his sword.

And the person standing beside Jiang Cheng was none other than Wei WuXian himself.

He saw himself walk with hands behind his back, wearing all black. A flute in the shade of ink stuck to his waist, hanging down with crimson colored tassels. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Jiang Cheng, he nodded in this direction to show respect. Attitude slightly arrogant, he took on a profound, disdainful appearance. As Wei WuXian saw the stance of his younger self, the root of his teeth even cringed in soreness. He felt that he really was pretentious, and itched to just beat the hell out of himself.

Lan WangJi also saw Wei WuXian, who stood beside Jiang Cheng. The tip of his brows twitched ever so slightly. Soon afterward, his light-colored eyes returned to where they were, still looking forward in that composed way. Jiang Cheng and Nie MingJue nodded at each other with grave faces. Neither had anything unnecessary to say. After a hasty greeting, the two walked their separate ways. Wei WuXian saw his black-clothed self glance around as he finally saw Lan WangJi. He looked as if he was about to speak before Jiang Cheng came over and stood to his side.

(Chapter 49, Exiled Rebels translation)

They then proceed to talk about him and his lack of a sword behind his back, never having said a word to Wei Wuxian himself:

Nie MingJue’s gaze turned over again, “Why does Wei Ying not carry his sword?”

Carrying one’s sword was like wearing formal attire. In such gatherings, it was a non-negligible indication of etiquette. Those from prominent sects saw it as especially important. Lan WangJi responded in a lukewarm tone, “He had probably forgotten.”

Ning MingJue raised a brow, “He can even forget something like this?”

(Chapter 49, Exiled Rebels translation)

At Phoenix Mountain it also seems that Wei Wuxian is conditionally a member of the gentry, but not treated like an equal. Sometimes there are these more cheerful interactions:

Holding the flower, Lan WangJi seemed to be quite cold. His tone seemed cold as well, “Was it you?”

Wei WuXian immediately denied it, “No, it wasn’t.”

The maidens beside him spoke at once, “Don’t believe him. It was him!”

Wei WuXian, “How could you treat a good person like this? I’m getting angry!”

Giggling, the maidens pulled their reins and went to the formations of their own sects. Lan WangJi lowered the hand that he held the flower with and shook his head. Jiang Cheng spoke, “ZeWu-Jun, HanGuang-Jun, apologies. Don’t pay attention to him.”

Lan XiChen smiled, “That is fine. I will thank Young Master Wei’s kindness behind the flower in place of WangJi.”

(Chapter 69, Exiled Rebels translation)

But then he will be publicly disparaged and it is readily accepted by others. Jin Zixun first starts an argument with him by criticising Wei Wuxian for fighting Jin Zixuan, then turns the topic to Wei Wuxian’s having taken a third of the prey in the hunt.

Jin ZiXun, “Wei, just what what do you mean by going against ZiXuan so many times?”

[...]

Jin ZiXun sneered, “How is it presumptuous? How is any part of you not presumptuous? Today, in such an important hunt involving all of the sects, you really showed off your abilities, didn’t you? One third of the prey have been taken by you. You sure feel pleased, don’t you?”

[...]

He mocked, “But it’s only natural that you don’t think you’re in the wrong. It’s not the first time that Young Master Wei has disregarded the rules. You didn’t wear your sword in both last time’s flower banquet and this time’s hunt. It’s such a grand event, and you care nothing for courtesy. In what regard to you hold us, the people who are present with you?”

[...]

No disciple had ever dared say such lofty words in front of so many people. A moment later, as Jin ZiXun finally regained his composure, he yelled, “Wei WuXian! You’re only the son of a servant—how dare you be so bold!!!”

(Chapters 69-70, Exiled Rebels translation)

Naturally, Jin Zixun is able to weasel out of giving an apology, even though Jiang Yanli demands one. And guess who also takes a third of the prey, but this time without any censure?

Jin GuangYao, “In reality, not only did Young Master Wei keep a third of the prey to himself, our eldest brother has eliminated over half of the fays and the monsters as well.”

Hearing this, Lan XiChen laughed, “That is how Brother is like, after all.”

(Chapter 70, Exiled Rebels translation)

Never a Brother

As I’ve already mentioned, Wei Wuxian was never adopted by Jiang Fengmian, or adopted into the clan in general in even a distant way. And this nebulous ‘we’re letting you live with the main family as a charity, but you aren’t really one of us’ attitude also reflects in his relationship with Jiang Yanli.

I’ve already discussed how Wei Wuxian was more like a companion servant to Jiang Cheng than a brother. It’s also worth noting quickly that neither of them ever refers to the other as a brother. Wei Wuxian refers to Jiang Cheng as his shidi a few times, and Jiang Cheng never even refers to him as his shixiong (because Jiang Cheng views him as his servant, not as even a martial brother, I’d argue).

Only one member of the Jiang family ever does use familial terms to refer to Wei Wuxian: his shijie, Jiang Yanli. At Phoenix Mountain, when Wei Wuxian is being insulted by Jin Zixun, Jiang Yanli stands up and defends him, and states clearly that she considers Wei Wuxian a little brother:

The people who gathered around Jin ZiXun had on the same dark faces as he did. Yet, taking into consideration Jiang YanLi’s background, they didn’t dare talk back to her directly.

Jiang YanLi added, “Besides, hunting is hunting, so why bring the matter of discipline to the table? A-Xian is a disciple of the YunmengJiang Sect. He grew up with my brother and I, and so he’s as close as a brother is to me. Calling him the ‘son of a servant’—I’m sorry, but I won’t accept this. And thus…”

She straightened her back and raised her voice, “I hope that Young Master Jin ZiXun would apologize to Wei WuXian of the YunmengJiang Sect!”

(Chapter 70, Exiled Rebels translation)

It doesn’t come through in the Exiled Rebels translation, but she actually refers to Wei Wuxian as her didi in this scene, not her shidi. She’s trying to draw a line and state that Wei Wuxian is a part of the family. However, no one takes her seriously, and shortly afterwards we see Jin-furen insisting that Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian shouldn’t be walking alone together because it would be inappropriate.

Jiang YanLi whispered, “That’s not necessary. I’d like to have a few words with A-Xian. He can walk me back.”

Madam Jin raised her brows, looking Wei WuXian up and down. Her gaze was somewhat cautious, as if she was feeling displeased, “A young man and a young woman—you two can’t stick together all the time if nobody else is present.”

Jiang YanLi, “A-Xian is my younger brother.”

[...]

Wei WuXian lowered his head, “Excuse my absence, Madam Jin.”

He and Jiang YanLi bowed at the same time. As they turned around to leave, Madam Jin grabbed Jiang YanLi’s hand and refused to let her leave.

(Chapter 70, Exiled Rebels translation)

Jin Zixuan also never treats Wei Wuxian the way one might a brother who is still angered with him over his past dismissive treatment of his sister. For example, see their argument at the Flower Banquet:

Before he could see how Lan WangJi reacted, a series of clamor suddenly came from the other end of the base. Wei WuXian heard his own raging shout, “Jin ZiXuan! Don’t you forget about what things you said and what things you did? What do you mean by this, now?!”

Wei WuXian remembered. So it was this time!

On the other side, Jin ZiXuan also fumed, “I was asking Sect Leader Jiang, not you! The one I was asking about was also Maiden Jiang. How is that related to you?!”

[...]

Jin ZiXuan, “Sect Leader Jiang—this is our sect’s flower banquet, and this is your sect’s person! Are you going to look after him or not?!”

[...]

...Jiang Cheng’s voice came, “Wei WuXian, you can just shut your mouth. Young Master Jin, I’m sorry. My sister is doing quite well. Thank you for your concern. We can talk about this next time.”

Wei WuXian laughed coldly, “Next time? There is no next time! Whether or not she’s doing well isn’t any of his business, either! Who does he think he is?”

He turned around and started to leave. Jiang Cheng shouted, “Get back here! Where are you going?”

Wei WuXian waved his hands, “Anywhere is fine! Just don’t let me see that face of his. I never wanted to come, anyway. You can deal with whatever’s here yourself.”

Having been abandoned by Wei WuXian, Jiang Cheng’s face immediately clouded over.

[...]

Jiang Cheng stowed away the clouds on his face, “Don’t mind him. Look at how impolite he is. He’s used to such rude behavior at home.”

He then began to converse with Jin ZiXuan.

(Chapter 49, Exiled Rebels translation)

Jiang Cheng also quietly dismisses the notion of Wei Wuxian as a brother in relation to Jiang Yanli; when they visit to show him her wedding dress and she asks for a courtesy name, Jiang Cheng specifically says:

Jiang Cheng, “The courtesy name of my unborn nephew.”

(Chapter 75, Exiled Rebels translation)

Not our nephew, mine.

Even the disastrous invitation to Jin Ling’s one month celebration is framed as a favour to an old shidi, not a family member:

Jin ZiXun, “Since you’ve heard it from him already, you should know that I can’t wait. Don’t tell me that you’ll disregard your brother’s life for the sake of Sister-in-Law’s shidi?!”

Jin ZiXuan, “You clearly know that I’m not that kind of person! He might not necessarily be the one who cursed you with Hundred Holes either. Why are you so rash? I was the one who invited Wei WuXian to A-Ling’s full-month celebration anyways. If this is the way you do things, where does that leave me? Where does it leave my wife?”

Jin ZiXun raised his voice, “It’s best if he doesn’t attend! What does Wei WuXian think he is—does he deserve to attend our sect’s banquet? Whoever touches him gets nothing but a splash of black! ZiXuan, when you invited him, weren’t you worried that you, Sister-in-Law and A-Ling would receive an irremovable stain for the rest of your lives?!”

(Chapter 76, Exiled Rebels translation)

It’s clear that not only does wider society not consider Wei Wuxian and the Jiangs siblings...they themselves don’t, either. Wei Wuxian, after all, readily accepts that his relationship with them is over after he leaves the sect:

Before they parted, Jiang Cheng spoke, “We won’t see you off. It wouldn’t be good if someone saw us.”

Wei WuXian nodded. He understood that it wasn’t easy for the Jiang siblings to have come out here. If someone else saw them, all those things they did for the public to believe would be wasted. He spoke, “We’ll go first.”

[...]

He turned around, knowing that it’d be a long time before he’d get to see the people he was familiar with again.

But… right now, wasn’t he on his way to seeing people he was familiar with as well?

(Chapter 75, Exiled Rebels translation)

Cast Aside

The way cultivation society treats Wei Wuxian when he is not with the Jiangs is also very revealing. Any level of respect he is given is contingent on his position in the Jiang household, and when they aren’t around that minimal respect fades away. Look at how disrespectfully he is treated when he approaches Jin Zixun to ask for Wen Ning’s location.

Wei WuXian didn’t make small talk either, getting straight to the point, “No thanks. I don’t.” He nodded slightly at Jin ZiXun, “Young Master Jin, could I please have a word with you?”

Jin ZiXun, “If you have anything to say, come after our banquet is over.”

In reality, he didn’t want to talk to Wei WuXian at all. Wei WuXian could see this as well, “How long do I have to wait?”

Jin ZiXun, “Probably around six to eight hours. Or maybe ten to twelve. Or until tomorrow.”

Wei WuXian, “I’m afraid I can’t wait for that long.”

Jin ZiXun’s voice was arrogant, “You’ll have to wait even if you can’t.”

Jin GuangYao, “Young Master Wei, what do you need ZiXun for? Is it a pressing matter?”

Wei WuXian, “Pressing indeed. It allows for no delay.”

[...]

Jin ZiXun, “Wei WuXian, what do you mean? You came for him? You aren’t standing up for a Wen-dog, are you?”

Wei WuXian wore a broad grin, “Since when is it your business whether I’d like to stand up for him or cut his head off? Just give him to me!”

At the last sentence, the grin on his face vanished. His tone turned cold as well. It was clear that he had lost his patience. Many of the people within Glamor Hal shivered in fear. Jin ZiXun felt his scalp tingle as well. Yet, his anger soon soared. He shouted, “Wei WuXian, you are too bold! Did the LanlingJin Sect invite you today? And you dare run wild here. Do you really think that you’re invincible, that nobody has the courage to confront you? Do you want to overturn the Heavens?”

Wei WuXian smiled, “You’re comparing yourself to the Heavens? Excuse my language, but your face is a little too thick, isn’t it?”

[...]

Just as he was about to rebut, sitting on the foremost seat, Jin GuangShan spoke up.

His voice seemed kind, “It’s not anything too important anyways. You youngsters, why lose your tempers over such a thing? However, Young Master Wei, let me be fair here. Barging in when the LanlingJin Sect is holding a private banquet is indeed inappropriate.”

To say that Jin GuangShan didn’t mind what happened at Phoenix Mountain would be impossible. This was also why he only smiled when Jin ZiXun bickered with Wei WuXian but didn’t stop them, and only spoke up when Jin ZiXun was at the disadvantage.

Wei WuXian nodded, “Sect Leader Jin, it was never my intention to disturb your private banquet. My apologies. However, the whereabouts of the people whom Young Master Jin took are still unclear. Just a moment of delay, and it might be too late. One of the group had once saved me before. I will definitely not sit back and watch. Please do not feel pressured. I will make amends for this at a later date.”

[...]

After a few laughs, he continued, “Sect Leader Jin, let me ask you something else. Do you think that, because the QishanWen Sect is gone, the LanlingJin Sect has all right to replace it?”

All was silent within Glamor Hall.

Wei WuXian added, “Everything has to be given to you? Everyone has to listen to you? Looking at how the LanlingJin Sect does things, I almost thought that it was the QishanWen Sect’s empire all over again.”

[...]

A guest cultivator on his right shouted, “Wei WuXian! Watch your words!”

Wei WuXian, “Did I say something wrong? Forcing living people to be bait and beating them up whenever they refused to obey—is this any different from what the QishanWen Sect does?”

Another guest cultivator stood up, “Of course it’s different. The Wen-dogs did all kinds of evil. To arrive at such an end is only karma for them. We only avenged a tooth for a tooth, letting them taste the fruit that they themselves had sown. What’s wrong with this?”

Wei WuXian, “Take revenge on the ones who bite you. Wen Ning’s branch doesn’t have much blood on their hands. Don’t tell me that you find them guilty by association?”

Another person spoke, “Young Master Wei, is it that they don’t have much blood on their hands just because you say so? These are only your one-sided words. Where’s the evidence?”

[...]

Jin GuangShan stood up as well, his face a mixture of shock, anger, fear, and hatred, “Wei WuXian! Just because… Sect Leader Jiang isn’t here doesn’t mean you can be so reckless!”

Wei WuXian’s voice was harsh, “Do you think that I wouldn’t be reckless if he were here? If I wanted to kill someone, who could stop me, and who would dare stop me?!”

[...]

“Young Master Wei really is too impulsive. How could he speak in such a way in front of so many sects?”

Lan WangJi spoke coldly, “Was he wrong?”

Jin GuangYao paused almost unnoticeably. He immediately laughed, “Haha. Yes, he’s right. But it’s because he’s right that he can’t say it in front of them, correct?”

Lan XiChen seemed as if he was deep in thought, “Young Master Wei’s heart really has changed.”

(Chapter 72, Exiled Rebels translation)

The only person at this banquet who speaks to Wei Wuxian respectfully is Jin Guangyao, a consummate manipulator who is also of a lower social status. Everyone else speaks to him dismissively, refusing to respect his request for Wen Ning’s location even though he states that Wen Ning helped him during the war. Wei Wuxian is extremely polite at the beginning of this conversation, and only slowly begins to lose his temper when Jin Zixun speaks rudely and Jin Guangshan decides to bring up the matter of the Yinhufu (Wei Wuxian is right in suspecting him of wanting to replace Qishan Wen, of course, and that it’s very bold of them to think they have the right to a spiritual tool of his just because...they’re rich?).

When the sects meet at Koi Tower to discuss the breakout at Qiongqi Path, no one considers Wei Wuxian as an independent agent who they might actually want to meet and negotiate with themselves. He is a wayward servant of Yunmeng Jiang who the sect leader has failed to keep in hand.

Jiang Cheng only spoke after a few moments, “What he did was indeed a bit too much. Sect Leader Jin, I apologize to you in place of him. If there’s any way at all to help the situation, please let me know. I’ll definitely compensate for things however I can.”

[...]

Jin GuangShan, “Sect Leader Jiang, Wei Ying is your right-hand man. You value him a lot. All of us know this. However, on the other hand, it’s hard to tell whether or not he actually respects you. In any case, I’ve been a sect leader for so many years and I’ve never seen the servant of any sect dare be so arrogant, so proud. Have you heard what they say outside? Things like how during the Sunshot Campaign the victories of the YunmengJiang Sect were all because of Wei WuXian alone—what nonsense!”

[...]

Lan WangJi sat with his back straight, speaking in a tone of absolute tranquility, “I did not hear Wei Ying say this. I did not hear him express the slightest disrespect towards Sect Leader Jiang either.”

[...]

The good thing was that, not long after he felt awkward, Jin GuangYao came to save the day, exclaiming, “Really? That day, Young Master Wei busted into Koi Tower with such force. He said too many things, one more shocking than the next. Perhaps he said a few things that were along those lines. I can’t remember them either.”

[...]

Jin GuangShan followed the transition, “That’s right. Anyhow, his attitude has always been arrogant.”

One of the sect leaders added, “To be honest, I’ve wanted to say this since a long time ago. Although Wei WuXian did a few things during the Sunshot Campaign, there are many guest cultivators who did more than him. I’ve never seen anyone as full of themselves as him. Excuse my bluntness, but he’s the son of a servant. How could the son of a servant be so arrogant?”

[...]

“In the beginning, Sect Leader Jin asked Wei Ying for the Tiger Seal with nothing but good intentions, worried that he wouldn’t be able to control it and lead to a disaster. He, however, used his own yardstick to measure another’s intents. Did he think that everyone is after his treasure? What a joke. In terms of treasures, is there any sect that doesn’t hold a few treasures?”

“I knew that something would eventually happen if he continued on the ghostly path—look! His killing intents are being revealed already. Killing indiscriminately those from our side just because of a few Wen-dogs…”

[...]

Jin GuangShan continued, “Sect Leader Jiang, you’re not like your father. It’s just been a couple of years since the reestablishment of the YunmengJiang Sect, precisely when you should be displaying your power. And he doesn’t even know to avoid suspicions. What would the Jiang Sect’s new disciples think if they saw him? Don’t tell me you’d let them see him as their role model and look down on you?”

He spoke one sentence after another, striking the iron while it was still hot. Jiang Cheng spoke slowly, “Sect Leader Jin, that’s enough. I’ll go to Burial Mound and deal with this.”

Jin GuangShan felt satisfied, speaking in a sincere tone, “That’s the spirit. Sect Leader Jiang, there are some things, some people that you shouldn’t put up with.”

(Chapter 73, Exiled Rebels translation)

This is very reminiscent of the way that Jin Zixuan would often turn around and say, ‘Why aren’t you controlling your servant?’ to Jiang Cheng whenever he had a dispute with Wei Wuxian over his treatment of Jiang Yanli.

When Jiang Cheng goes to the Burial Mounds and Wei Wuxian defects from Yunmeng Jiang in order to help the sect save face, Jiang Cheng treats this as a personal betrayal. He not only challenges Wei Wuxian to a duel but then announces that Wei Wuxian has betrayed Yunmeng Jiang and declared himself the enemy of cultivation society:

After the fight, Jiang Cheng told the outside that Wei WuXian defected from the sect and was an enemy to the entire cultivation world. The YunmengJiang Sect had already cast him out. From then on, no ties remained between them—a clear line was drawn. Henceforth, no matter what he did, they’d have nothing to do with the YunmengJiang Sect!

(Chapter 73, Exiled Rebels translation)

“Wei Wuxian has betrayed the sect, and publicly regards all cultivation sects as enemy! Yunmeng Jiang Sect hereby expels him, breaking all ties with him and drawing a clear line between us. Henceforth, no matter what this person does, it will have nothing to do with Yunmeng Jiang Sect!”

(Modao Zushi Radio Drama, Season 3 Episode 5, Suibian Subs)

Naturally, no one ever questions this or wants to hear Wei Wuxian’s side of the story. Jiang Cheng is a sect leader and Wei Wuxian his servant, and that is all cultivation society needs to know.

In Conclusion

Wei Wuxian was never really part of the Jiang family. The wider social view was that he was a servant who was lucky to be taken in by the family and allowed to live in the main house alongside the sect leader’s children. He’s accepted into cultivation society conditionally, but only as someone who remains a rank below everyone else.

This attitude isn’t just the wider social view which the family themselves disregard; they all play into it. Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Cheng both actively enforce it, Jiang Fengmian passively enforces it, and Jiang Yanli tries but fails to break through the social barriers between them.

[the-apprentice-lia]

Hey! I saw that you do headcanons as well? Sorry if I’m asking in the right place but I loved your post on Asra’s hurt!! Could you possibly do the “mc getting slapped by the m6” ask please? My angsty little heart needs foodddd

hiii!! i’m so glad you liked my post:)) don’t worry, i’ll do my best to not cry when i’m writing this although it probably won’t work

i just wanna say that under no circumstances is it okay to hurt your partner!! please don’t take this post the wrong way:)

the main 6 slapping mc

asra

• it probably started because of how much he keeps from you. you know it’s just because he doesn’t want to see you hurt or unhappy because of how much of your life you’ve lost to your premature death, but it’s still so infuriating. you’re not a child, and you tell him as much.

• as much as you love each other, arguments can get messy. you know so much about each other that it’s difficult not to go for the soft parts in an argument, and you just snap.

• they’re probably running his hands through his hair, tears of frustration and pent up feelings slipping down his cheeks and catching the light of the many candles around the shop, making them glister strangely beneath the low light.

• “asra, you’re being ridiculous. how in the arcana am i supposed to know about who i was if you won’t fucking tell me?” you shout at them, crystals and glass bottles clinking together on the shelves.

• asra breaks, finally raising his voice as well, telling you that you’re acting like a child. you feel a twisted feeling of satisfaction at his loss of control. at least they’re actually treating you like a person— but you’re still so frustrated.’why can’t he just see that you’re not a china doll, easily broken and delicately made?

•you’re screaming now, tears blurring your vision. all you see is red. “if i’m acting like such a child then why did you even bother bringing me back? you should have just fucking left me to rot beneath the lazaret if you won’t so much as—” you’re cut off with a sharp crack.

• asra’s stronger than they look, and he wasn’t thinking as he lashed out in anger and pain, so you probably stumble back into the shelves behind you, or onto the counter of the shop.

• you touch your hand to your hot cheek with a dull feeling of surprise. it’s as if everything is through a haze, your gaze flickering up to meet asra’s horrified one as you take a step back, a dry sob heaving through your chest as your knees give out and you sink to the floor.

• “mc, i’m so sorry, i can’t— i don’t— please. i’m so sorry,” he stumbles over his words as he crouches before you, giving you enough space that you could easily leave. you don’t, and he breathes out slowly as they reach towards you and gently, heartbreakingly softly, cups your face to turn it towards him. he inhales sharply as he takes in your bruised cheekbone, red already beginning to spread outwards in the shape of his hand, and he flinches to see that he’s hurt you, his beloved apprentice.

• he opens his arms slowly, hesitantly, and you sink into them, burying your face in his scarves and then drawing back slightly with a faint hiss as your cheek touches the fabric, and he lets out a sob as well, burying his face in your sweet-smelling hair. murmurs “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry,” into you over and over again, rocking you back and forth on the floor of the shop.

• he’ll hurt for weeks after, even after the bruise fades, he’ll simply refuse to touch you for days after the incident. whispers “but what if i hurt you,” his voice breaking at the mere thought of it, and you cradle him to you, stroking his cheek as he shakes.

nadia

• the argument was probably about her refusing to ask for help. she’s been alone for so long that the refusal simply comes naturally. she has to prove that she can be successful alone, that she can make something of herself without anyone.

• at first, you tell her gently that she can trust you, that you’re always here for her, and that she doesn’t have to do this alone— but she doesn’t want to hear it, telling you insistently that she doesn’t need any help.

• “your dark circles would say otherwise, nadi! you can’t keep going on like this!” you tell her, your voice strained as you lay a hand on her arm. you just want to help her, but she won’t listen to you. “i can do it myself,” she tells you coldly, pulling away from you and turning back to her work. “i don’t need your help. i never have.”

• you feel the hurt blossom in your chest, but you try to push it down as you close her books, smudging the ink on a document by mistake. “nadi, please.” you tell her, but she doesn’t even seem to hear you as she opens her books and sets her jaw, looking at the ruined document. you bite your lip in dismay and go to apologise, but she cuts in before you get the chance. “you ruin everything. you’re such a nuisance, can you not find anything better to do with your time than to bother me? i am the countess of vesuvia, and i don’t need your help.” she’s shouting by the end of her outburst, and you recoil, hurt now showing across your face— but it’s quickly replaced by anger.

• you laugh disbelievingly, your voice spiteful and pained as you speak. “you don’t need my help? well that’s certainly a different tune than the one you were singing when you came to me in the middle of the night, asking for my help. and even then i gave it unbegrudgingly. you’re so stubborn, nadia! you’re so ridiculously naïve that you can’t even see that not everybody’s against you. so your sisters acted like every older sibling the world over, and excluded you from a few games. you carry grudges as if the world’s out to get you and nobody seeks to help you. you’re such a child! why—” your screaming cuts off at the sharp crack.

• you cry out at the sudden flare of pain. nadia’s also a lot stronger than she looks— i mean, she’s a master sword-fighter. and so, you stumble backwards into the marble table opposite her desk, turning away from her to catch your breath, your figure shaking with quiet sobs. everything seems to fall away, and you hold your arms around yourself in a poor attempt to keep your paroxysms of sobs quiet.

• nadia is completely silent. the jarring force snapped her out of whatever tired grumpiness she had been wallowing in, and now she’s just looking at her hands, a look of absolute horror twisting her features as she takes in the hand, resting palm-down on her knees, that she used to— to— she can’t even think about it. she has betrayed your trust, used your relationship, built on a foundation of love and mutual respect, to hurt you. it’s as if she’s seeing the world through a haze of disbelief. she’s taken advantage of your love for her, she’s physically violated you, and the thought of that leaves her physically ill. hot tears drop steadily into her lap, as she turns her hands over, and her eyes widen even more, if possible, with horror. blood glisters thickly on her index finger, coating the closest section to her palm where a golden ring sits. the countess of vesuvia never takes her rings off during the day, and she’s snapped out of her daze by the quiet hiss that comes from where you stand.

•when the first tears stream down your face, you hiss at the sharp pain, touching your fingers gently to your face and wincing as they come into contact with… is that a wound? you stare at them as they come away a deep, garnetine red. your hair is sticking to the blood running down your face from the wound. you sob dryly as the pain sets in, and by the gods it stings. it seems that even the air twists into your opened skin, burning sharply. you’re so lost in the mist of disbelief you barely notice when nadia comes up behind you.

• “my love?” her voice comes, softly, and you stiffen as she lays a hand on your upper arm. she withdraws it quickly as her voice breaks. “please, mc. say anything. look at me, i beg of you.” you don’t say anything for a minute before you inhale softly and turn to her.

• something in nadia breaks. she lifts shaking fingers up to her mouth as your eyes meet hers, and she takes in what she’s done to you. she’s sliced your upper-cheek open from just short of the bridge of your nose to almost the edge of your face. and the cut is deep. bruising spreads around it, in the shape of her hand, and she lets out a sob before dropping to her knees, taking your hand in hers. “by the arcana, mc, i am so, so sorry— i don’t know— i can’t— please, my love, i am so sorry,” she presses her forehead to your hand before you start to cry, sinking to your knees as well and burying your face in your hands, your shoulders shaking. you hiss softly as you draw your hand away and it comes away a glistening, wine-dark red.

• you flinch away from her as she comes to envelop you in a hug. “don’t. please,” you say softly, pulling yourself away from her. you leave bloodstains on the floor. her eyes hold inexplicable sorrow and remorse in them, as she nods haltingly, her heart breaking as she realises— you’re… afraid of her. later, she’ll bury her head into her pillow and sob her heart out but for now, she needs you to know to not be afraid of her. she loves you, you know that— and you need to know she’ll never violate the trust you put in her again.

• “mc… please. i’m so, so inexplicably sorry for what i’ve done to you. i promise it will never happen again.” her voice is soft, and she speaks to you as if you’re a wounded deer she’s found in the palace gardens, her voice breaking as she lets you see that she’s approaching you, her arms in front of her as she holds them out softly when she’s quite close to you.

• you look at her, meet her eyes with yours, and slowly settle into her embrace as she lets out a quiet sob of relief, burying her head in your hair. you pull away with a quiet gasp of pain when her hair meets your wound, and she cups your face (your good side) softly, stroking your cheek with her thumb as you close your eyes and she moves closer to you, giving you the time to pull away before her lips meet your forehead and she kisses you there gently before pressing one just above your cut and pulling you back to her, minding your cheek. you cry softly into her chest, and she does so into your hair. the two of you stay there until the blood starts to dry on your cheek and she stands, helping you up.

• “i’m taking you to the infirmary, dearest one.” “but… nadia.” you gesture to the state you’re in with a raised eyebrow. blood stains your collar and had dripped down your cheek in steady rivulets— and now your entire cheek is coated in blood. the cut itself is deep and thorough, splitting the skin so that the flesh beneath is easily visible, and the black, blue, and red flesh around your cut in the shape of nadia’s hand is enough that there is no room to doubt how your injury happened. “i’m your partner. there’s nobody else that would have done this— your entire court will know.” you look at her gently. “i can hide this.”

• and yet again, nadia’s heart is absolutely crushed. broken. shattered. “my heart, you should not have to hide what i have done. we’re going to the infirmary.”

• the entire way there, nadia weathers the stares and whispers with, for once, a bent head. you tighten your fingers around her hand— you know how important the favour of the court is. when you finally arrive, and you have to explain, haltingly, how you were injured, nadia gets a few looks of unbridled disgust as your injuries are treated. you squeeze her hand every now and again, and she looks at you gratefully. her eyes darken as you bite your lip roughly when the antiseptic meets it, your eyes watering as she strokes your hand, never taking her eyes away from you.

• afterwards, will absolutely doubt herself as a leader and a partner. no matter if you forgive her, no matter that the bruise fades and the wound heals, she’ll still always linger on your scar when she’s kissing your face, she’ll still murmur “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, darling,” into your hair for months after.

• if anyone is so much as even vaguely disdainful towards you with respects to your scar, you’ll literally have to talk her down from having them thrown out/arrested. you forgive her, and she loves you with all of her— but when dark feelings surface now there’s absolutely nothing you can do that will even get a shadow of a rise out of her. is just calm and collected. never so much as raises her voice at you.

• will 100% look at you as you sleep and hate herself for harming you in any way.

hope you enjoyed the angst fest!! these were so long— but i’ll do the next four periodically:)

[theodora3022]

Playing tricks with the trickster

Summary: Failed escape attempt from yandere Childe. He lets you play your cards, even playing along, just for his own amusement.

Notes: My first genshin piece yay... I had a sweet and terrible dream of me running from Childe in the woods. Also some inspiration was drawn from @cinnamonest‘s this post, one big virtual hug to her! I hope I did Childe justice, what can I say I love manipulative smiling boys. It has become a pattern as I dash from one fandom to another. This is had turned out to be longer then I expected...Ginger boy demands my time and energy too much omg. Mind the warnings, although there is nothing extreme in this.

Fun fact, I was looping to Nintendo game by Alessia Cara when writing this down. I believe it fits the theme of this fic quite well.

Tagging: @akutaguagua a great friend who patiently beta-read this mess of a horror dream and gave me lots of kind praises! 

(Offical art belongs to miHoYo! This is a cover page of this video, if there is any issues, contact me and I will remove it at once)

Warnings: Implied past abduction,dub-con touching, mild degradation, drugging(not on reader), implied non-con/dub-con at the end, this is not healthy love and I do not condone this irl.

It has been nearly a month since the youngest Fatui Harbinger had “taken you in”. After a few tries, you were too horrified by the punishments to continuously fight him. You learned on the first day that Childe’s smiling, the friendly mask would come off towards you. Your behaviour would decide if that is a curse or a “blessing”.

So you had quieted down, struggling to restrain yourself from yelling or screaming, carefully not to provoke his anger. Despite being compliant to his orders, you never truly showed him any affection either. Sure, you would sit on his lap if he asked, but you never initiated anything intimate with him. No matter how much Tartaglia spoiled you with clothes, books, jewelry or other luxuries, he is still the one who holds the commanding end of your shackles. It’s the best not to get used to all of that when your sight is set on the door.

Although he has taken your freedom away, you are not kept in a windowless room. On the contrary, you have too many outings now. Wherever he goes, you have to be present in a 2m radius, including meetings. Being a Harbinger is no easy job, so he prefers not having to worry about your safetly during buisness hours. The best way to do that is never let you out of his sight.

“Love, no one should witness our little problems. Well, no one alive that is.” Of course you wouldn’t want to put innocent people's lives at stake. You never dared to act out when you two are in public, and no one would bat an eye if a Fatui had taken a lover. 

You had taken an emotionless approach towards him. If Childe wants a kiss on the cheek, you’ll give him a quick light peck. If he wants breakfast, you’ll go make some pancakes with the topping he likes. Luckily, Childe had not done anything too extreme yet. If cuddling to sleep does not count as extreme that is. The only time you slipped up is when he suddenly hugs you from behind when you’re cooking.  

You thought maybe, just maybe, by being as boring and dull as you could, this bastard might just get tired of you and let you go. Childe only loves the fun of it right? Or maybe it could lower his guard.

Oh, how naive you are. You should have known better than to underestimate a Fatui harbinger. See, this is exactly why he needs to keep you around. Yes, unfortunately for you, Childe loves you, so very much. Speaking to him with a monotone voice isn’t going to alter that fact.

You have been devoid of emotions as of late. While Childe does appreciate fewer screams for the sake of his eardrums, this schemer can sense you are up to something. Perhaps this is the peace before your “storm”(he thought of it more like a drizzle)

You want to play a game? Okay, why not? Childe cannot wait to see what tricks you got on those sleeves. Are you ever getting away? Does an amateur ever win when they play a game with a professional trickster? Never.

Still, nothing bites like a cornered rat. You are no airhead, and he is fully aware of that. Just not as cunning and observent as him, that’s all.

The way you just kept your emotions sealed up is impressive, even to someone like him. Even when he got hansy, you did not flinch and just stared at the corner. Childe can only catch faint glimpses of anger when you thought he wasn’t looking.

Hm, when are you pulling your trigger? Tonight, or tomorrow night? Not that Childe is impatient, anything from you is worth waiting. But he would need to dismiss his patrolling underlings in the nearby woods beforehand. No extras would be allowed to disturb this game.

There is no chance during the day, a somewhat mutual understanding for you two. Night time in comparison, is a different story. 

Anyone’s sleeping hours is their most vulnerable time of the day, Childe is no exception. You do not plan to harm him, not that you don’t want to. But you are willing to swallow the pent up frustration towards him if you would never see his face again after this. Maybe beating up some slimes would help with the release?

You somehow managed to slip a mixture of herbs into his tea. Since he would buy cooking ingredients for you from time to time, you had requested a bunch of herbs along with the ingredients of a sleep inducing medicine you remembered. Although Childe does all he can to keep you near him, there are inevitable hours that he needs to be somewhere without you. He cannot jeopardize your safety with troublesome monsters. On a side note, he loves showing you off to anyone, his colleagues, acquaintances, business partners, anyone he does not deem a threat.

Enough time for you to make those herbs into powder and cover it up with a few spoons of milk. Tea with milk has become quite popular in Liyue as of late. Childe has grown to love them, so you have learned how to mix it up. He always let you handle his food and drinks, saying that he “trusts you”. What you do not know is this is one of the openings he exposed on purpose. It’s not like you can aquire anything deadly under his suffocating supervision.

Your plan will work, or so you think. Childe will not wake up when you wiggle out of his grasp, because dreamland will keep him occupied. All you need is a glider and a usable sword from Liyue and you’ll get your life back. Bottling up extreme emotions has certainly taken a toll on your mind, but it will be worth it if that is the prerequisite of being free.

Something about this being so easy sits ill with you. Have you really been with the youngest Fatui Harbinger this whole time? But that was brushed off your shoulders by the sheer excitement of regaining your long lost freedom. You know Liyue is in walking distance, all you need to do is cross these woods and-

The moment you dive into the forest, you think you heard an amused chuckle. 

That smooth voice terrifies you to no end, the same voice you took orders from for the past month.

Oh, how Childe loves seeing you happy. It’s priceless, both literally and figuratively. No matter how many things he buys you, you had not shown him even one small smile. Enjoy your sweet freedom, because it ain’t going to last. You certainly will know your place after this right? If not you are just dumber then he give you credit for.

That glow of relief in your eyes is worth every last bit of this intense dizzying feeling to Childe. To make sure your plan go through, he had drunk the tea without hesitation, quick enough to catch the momentarily excitement you expressed. He knows the game is on, therefore he had given the night patrol guards the entire evening off. Forcing himself to stay concious by digging his nails into his palms, Childe followed you into the woods.

Your potion is quite strong. Excellent, you’ll have to give him the recipe for informational purposes later. Especially how you managed to achieve such effects with a few herbs you had. He never took you to be anything less than a smart girl, but this has exceeded his expectations. Where’s the fun in a game without challenges?

How you storm through the forest wearing that cute terrified expression looks so endearing, it’s surely not his fault if he wants to enjoy this sight to be longer right.

So, each time you feel the slightest at ease due to whatever reason, expect Childe to make some sound to send you running like your life depends on it again. The sadistic man is hunting you down playfully, like a cat chasing a stray mouse to the inevitable corner.

You know he is toying with you. There is nothing you can do to make him shut up though.

“Love, you had scratched your leg. Must hurts by the looks of it.”

“Liyue is that way, you know.”

“Are you tired? If you want to jog in the middle of the night, you should have called me to come along!”

How can he say those things nonchalantly while you are trying to escape from him?  Here he is, daunting you with that signature smile he wears so very often. That is when reality slaps you right in the face. No matter how hard you plan, no matter how fast you run, there is no getting rid of him.

When your stamina runs out, a simple pull and push on your left wrist is enough to let you fall onto the ground panting. Even now, you still refuse to beg for mercy. You would take the cold grounds to the warmth of Childe’s embrace anyday. 

“Aw, burnt out already? Pathetic. Looks like we need to work on your stamina more. But this is not the place for exercise.”

“Look at me.” His slender but forceful fingers tilt your head up, making you look into those ocean blue orbs. There is anger present in his eyes, but those emotions are more a mixture of delight and that. His smile had also been replaced by a mocking smirk. “You, trying to leave me? Your sense of humor is...well, let’s just call it unique. Lucky for you, you amused me nonetheless.”

“I know what you’re thinking. How I’m a selfish jerk and you hate me. Why be so ungrateful? You get to live in luxury thanks to me, you know. I am selfish, yes, but look how stupid you are. I know you added something extra in my evening tea, my beloved.”

“Come now, we are going to do some exercises suited for a night like this once we’re back home. It is our one month milestone, after all. You had already given me your gift, it is only fair for you that I do the same.”

Childe is not making a sarcastic remark. The thrill of that chase was the best fun he had in months. And you are going to love his gift too, maybe not right away, but surely sometimes after. 

You have to mentally prepare yourself for the worst as he dragged you back to the prison, hopefully you’ll still be able to walk properly after whatever Childe got in store.

[koolkat9]

FrUk Week 2021: Day2

@hetaliashipsweek

Prompt: Childhood/Old Age

Paring: FrUk

Word Count: 2012

The Luckiest Man Alive

They had been married for fifty years. It still was hard for Arthur to believe. It wasn’t that he wasn’t grateful, but at the back of his mind, there had always been that lingering thought that Francis would finally notice all his shortcomings and leave him. At least over the years, that voice had quieted immensely and Arthur learned to allow himself to be happy without worrying that it would be taken away from him.

If someone had told five-year-old Arthur that the annoying little French boy in his class would eventually become his lover, he would have kicked them in the shins. No way he could ever like someone as snobbish as Francis. The boy never failed to insult Arthur’s ‘fashion sense’ or steal his pencils. Then again it probably didn’t help that Arthur had the tendency to pull Francis’ hair and steal his books. By the first grade, things had escalated to the point the two physically and verbally fought on the daily. There were a lot of punches, bruises, and meetings with the principal during those elementary school years, but for some reason, they always kept coming back to each other.

Middle school rolled around and life got complicated. During the final years of elementary school, Arthur’s mother had been diagnosed with a serious illness. What that illness was was never revealed to Arthur even after her death, but that didn’t stop it from tearing the family apart. He had never gotten along with his brothers, but with their mother being in and out of the hospital and pressure being added onto all of them, especially Alister, they began taking out their stress on each other. They fought every day with some confrontations turning physical (on both ends). After a particularly bad fight, Arthur showed up to school with a black eye. At lunch Francis inquired about it, pushing him until he snapped and shoved Francis against the locker, hissing, “My mom’s sick and my brothers hate my guts so shut up or you’re going to be my punching bag.” 

For once, Francis was shocked, and instead of shoving Arthur back, his gaze softened as he said, “I’m so sorry to hear that Arthur.” Before he could do anything else, Arthur pulled away and took off down the hall. It wouldn’t be the last argument that ended with secrets being revealed. At least both had enough respect not to bring them up again.

By the time high school rolled around, the few friends Arthur had made over his childhood years had moved away or went to the other high school in town. The only person he knew going in was Francis and once more the two of them gravitated towards each other, but this time it wasn’t for a fight. Arthur was tired. His mother had passed away a month before school had started and the feeling of home left with her. The Brit had become a shell of his former self, often isolating himself in the school library during his free time and throwing himself into his school work. He didn’t socialize unless he had to for class and began avoiding Francis like the plague. It began to worry Francis and around Christmas of their first year, Francis cornered Arthur in the library, ready to get to the bottom of whatever was eating at his enemy. Surprisingly it was easier than he thought as the Brit quickly broke down and through tears began explaining everything. The fact his mom died, that he was sick and tired of arguing with his brothers and has been couch hopping for a couple of weeks because he didn’t want to go home, and every other minor inconvenience that had been building up in his life. 

Francis was stunned into silence, but before Arthur could run away like he always did when things got too personal, the French boy pulled him into a tight embrace. And Arthur let him, too tired for any struggle or to push his emotions deep down again. Francis had invited him to stay over that night and Arthur had accepted though he was hesitant. There were no arguments or fighting for once and instead they talked about other things, interests, classes, other normal teen stuff. It was nice and for the first time in the past three years, Arthur felt safe and comfortable. 

After that fateful day, fights between them grew few and far between. They still bickered and argued, but it was now a more friendly matter. Francis introduced Arthur to his new friends Antonio and Gilbert and the four would remain friends well into adulthood and even old age. They were annoying just like Francis, but they also cared about him and were there for him when he needed it. But he could really do without the constant jab that Francis and he were like ‘an old married couple.’

College is when Arthur’s feelings of friendship started becoming feelings of romantic love. Francis had found a cheap apartment not far from their school and the two decided to rent it together to save money. They fell into quite a domestic routine. Francis cooked for him since Arthur could never make anything not burnt while Arthur did the dishes. Francis did laundry while Arthur folded and put the clothes away. Arthur would go out to the small garden on their balcony and Francis would join him a few minutes later with water or juice and a little snack for them. Francis had a lot of morning classes so Arthur would wake him up with a cup of coffee or tea. Arthur finally felt at home and he realized he wanted to live with Francis for the rest of his life. He tried to deny it at first, but each time Francis smiled Arthur felt his insides melt and whenever he called his name in the soft moments of the evening, he imagined being called to cuddle with him. He loved Francis, but he was too scared of possibly losing him if his feelings became known. After all, their relationship had already been turbulent, why shake it up even more?

Although they may have been getting along better than they ever had, they were still Francis and Arthur, prideful through and through and unable to go too long without some form of argument. Things were starting to build up on Arthur again with school and his growing feelings and he was starting to become more snappy than normal. They had had a few of their friendly arguments before, but eventually, everything became too much and Arthur went off at Francis when the Frenchman pushed a little too hard. “I thought we told each other everything,” Francis screamed.

“Shut up!”

“No. Not until you get it through your thick skull that pushing things down until they boil over is not healthy. I don’t even know why I bother? You’ve never listen-”

Next thing either of them knew, Arthur had Francis pinned against the wall, silencing him with a heated, angry kiss. As soon as Arthur noticed what he was doing, he pulled away, but not enough to let Francis go. The Frenchman looked at him, cheeks red, hair a mess, and eyes wide. Without a word they leaned in once more, connecting their lips in a slow, sensual kiss. 

The following morning, Arthur awoke, wrapped up in Francis’ arms in Francis’ bed, clothes strewn around the room. For a moment, he allowed himself to admire the sleeping man next to him. Even with bedhead, Francis’ hair still looked beautiful and soft. His lips were slightly parted, his eyes closed, bare shoulder slightly exposed. He looked so peaceful and content which made Arthur’s heart flutter.

“Like what you see?” Francis asked, his eyes opening halfway and a soft smile spreading across his face. 

“Sh-Shut up.”

“Make me.” 

And Arthur did, leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss on Francis’ lips. When he retreated back, embarrassment and doubt began setting. What did this mean now? Were they lovers? What if things didn’t end up well? He couldn’t bear to lose this man after everything they had been through. Maybe it was best to just forget what had happened and go back to being friends. 

“I-I don’t know if I can do this,” Arthur stuttered out. He pulled the covers up defensively, trying to avoid that kind loving gaze.

Francis was quiet for a moment and when Arthur stole a glance at him, he almost looked disappointed. “You know?” Francis began, his smile quickly returning, “We don’t have to call it anything you don’t want to. You liked what happened last night right?”

“I-I suppose…”

“I did too. Would you want to do more than just that? Like cuddle, kiss, and all that?”

Arthur was silent as he thought it over, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red. “If it makes it easier,” Francis continued, “I wouldn’t mind doing that kind of stuff, but if you don’t want to...I won’t push.”

Francis really was perfect. Attentive, loving, respectful when it mattered. What did he see in Arthur who just seemed to be a ball of anger and pent-up feelings? But the knowledge they wouldn’t be making this an official thing (at least not yet), put Arthur at ease and he decided to accept it. 

A couple months later, Arthur had worked up the courage to accept Francis’ offer of a date, and of course, being the thoughtful lover the man was, Francis provided him with the ideal date. They had gone to the park for a picnic lunch before heading to the theatre for a show. At night they cuddled up in Francis’ bed and fell asleep. It had been a pretty good day, but Arthur’s competitiveness had been sparked. Next date, he was planning it and he was going to impress Francis.

He got a reservation at the new French restaurant in town. Francis seemed to have enjoyed the food, but he said he could have always made such a meal at home. Arthur only rolled his eyes telling him that he was doing something nice for him so be grateful. Francis had giggled, making Arthur realize just how deep he was. It was exhilarating and a little nerve-wracking. After dinner, they headed out back to a garden area where a wishing well stood. “Do you have a coin?” Francis asked, peering into the well. 

“You’re lucky, here.” 

Francis pulled the coin to his chest closing his eyes before tossing it into the well with a plop. 

“What did you wish for?” Arthur asked, peering down into the well.

Francis brought a finger to his lips with a wink. “I can’t tell you or it won’t come true.”

Arthur’s nostalgia trip was interrupted by a pair of arms snaking around his waist and a firm kiss being pressed into his neck.

“What are you doing mon amour?” Francis asked in a low voice.

“Just...reminiscing.” Arthur lifted his hand, admiring the silver band on his finger. “Who would have thought we’d be here, like this, all those years ago.”

Francis chuckled. “Mhm. At least my wish came true.”

Arthur twisted his head to get a better look at the man behind him“Are you talking about that one you made on our second date?”

“Oui.”

“And what was it?”

“I would marry and spend the rest of my life with you.”

“You big sap.”

“Peut-être, but you love me for it.”

“What gave you that idea?”

“Oh, you wound me,” Francis exclaimed, clutching his chest. 

The two lovers erupted into a fit of laughter before going in for a kiss. It was sweet and quick, matching the playful moment. I couldn’t last forever as Arthur noticed the time. “We better go pick up the boys from the airport,” he suggested,  “they’ll be landing soon.”

Francis planted one more kiss on his forehead, before taking Arthur’s hand and pulling him out the door. Truly, Arthur was the luckiest man in the world and he had over fifty years' worth of evidence to prove it.

[hivequest]

Taking a Risk » Mallek Adalov/Reader

Wordcount: 2.3k words

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, stressed out reader, chillboy Mallek. TYping quirk only used when texting cause I could not be bothered lmao Originally posted on AO3

A/N: One of my favorite things that I’ve written, ever. I love Mallek and he’s for sure one of my favorite Friendsim characters. When I wrote this I was really feeling those Quarantine Woes

You didn't know what you were doing here. You felt out of place in the worst possible ways. It was a weird, squidgy feeling like stepping on wet grass. But not like the fun kind where you were running around in a sprinkler on a hot-as-balls summer day. No, this was the bad kind of wet grass that you stepped on without knowing it was wet. Why weren't you wearing shoes?

This analogy is stupid. The point is, you're feeling bummed out.

And what better way to not have to deal with that than hang out with someone you knew wouldn't push you into talking about all the ways crashing on this planet sucked! The point is, you're on your way to see Mallek. Mallek is absolutely the kind of friend who can tell when you just need to sit down and veg out. You had been so caught up in everyone else's bullshit that you weren't looking after your own damn self. So now you were doing that.

All it took was a quick text, asking Mallek if he had any company. He texted back only a moment later with a no, obviously not. You asked him if he wanted any. Not really. You ask him if you can come over anyway. Obviously.

You smiled at the palmhusk in your, well, palm. You could already feel the chill vibes of your hacker friend. Friend? Was that the right word for it? You didn't know anymore. When you first met there were definitely some sparks there. You could still feel them now and it made weird butterflies flutter around in your stomach. When you slapped his phone out of his hand and he sent you ass over applecart into the slimy depths of sewer water and he saved you, tits out and all.

You shook off the weird wistful feeling of maybe possibly crossing the friendship barrier and told him you'd walk to his hive. You'd been moping in some bookhive, not your usual hang-out spot with Tagora or Tyzias. This was some upper caste bookhive with purple bloods and some indigos and definitely not where you were welcome if the looks you were getting were any indication. They ranged from snooty to downright murderous. Yeesh.

Your phone -palmhusk, stupid troll names- beeped again. You got another text from him and those cheery fucking butterflies were back. God, you had it bad.

yeah were not doing that lmao;

im not going to let my robobuddy walk out in the sun

do you even know what time of day it =

just stay put ive already got your location ill pick you up;

And like a good little friendsimp. You park your ass on a chair and wait. You hadn't released your moping had taken up most of the night. But with the quick look around, yeah, no, this place was nearly empty by now. Just some older bluebloods trying to cram before their Ordeals and get shipped off-planet. Again: Yeesh.

You kept your ears open for the telltale sound of Mallek's limo. It was a sound you were getting used to these days. He always seemed ready to drop whatever coding shit he was working on to come to see you. You tried not to think too hard on what that might mean. No need to get your hopes up now. It's probably just your bad mood making you imagine some context where there's nothing. Yeah.

Damn, that shit hurted.

Just as you were about to add that to the reasons you were considering just screaming your lungs out who cares whose listening? you heard the wonderfully familiar sound of an approaching elongated scuttlebuggy. If that wasn't enough of a clue as to who the ride was for the quiet of the bookhive was very abruptly disturbed by a series of rhythmic beeps.

Holy shit was that the Tetris theme?

You shoved your palmhusk into your hoodie pocket and yanked the hood over your head. Even if the sun was only out a little bit you didn't want it anywhere near your freshly healed skin. You had no kind cowgirl to nurse you back to health right now if you got your asscheeks baked by the flaming death orb. You peeked your head out and even with the blinding light of Alternia's suns you could Mallek had opened the door and was waiting for you.

Aw. No, shit. You're in a bad mood don't get all heart eyes at him. Don't make it weird.

You took a few steps back into the bookhive, ready to make a run for it. You turn to a sitting indigoblood, who is just staring at you disdainfully for keeping the door open. You give her a two-fingered salute. Godspeed young cosmonaut. She gives you a one-fingered salute. Close the door you insufferable bulgebiter. Fair.

Taking a running start, you book it out into the heat of the Alternian sun and dive for the open car door. It's then that you realize he's halfway parked on the sidewalk to lessen the amount of time you'd have to spend in the sun. Aw. That also means that you came barreling like a cannonball at something that was like two feet out of the door. FUck.

Your face meets carpet and you can already feel the rugburn starting to set in. You hear a startled wheezy laugh from above you, a sound you know better than anyone else on this planet. You smile. It's not like you had any dignity to begin with.

You say hello to him as you peel yourself off of the floor of his car.

"Hey, there robobuddy. You stuck the landing this time," He smiles down at you as he reaches over you to shut the door, closing the space out from natural light and leaving you both lit by his colorful LEDs. You shrug and tell him you've been getting a lot of practice landing on your face these days. The look he gives you is still smiling but there's some level of disbelief at the dumbassery that is your whole existence.

"I know you can get yourself into it. Nothing too bad this time, though, right? No drones or broken bones?" He sounds concerned which is nice but he doesn't drown you with his concern. He leans back on the bench of his limo, keeping an eye on you as the vehicle begins to move on its own. You've been staying out of big messes but the little messes are starting to mess with you. He makes a sound of understanding the sounds as it comes from deep in his chest. Whoa. "Believe me, I've been there. Glad you're not cracking under it though."

He smiles and you can see his little fang and you can feel your heart melt a little. And also you're getting a bit teary-eyed and now Mallek looks alarmed. Shit. You try to quickly explain that you're fine, just, alien allergies am I right? He must be using some new air freshener to mask the musty smell of his limo. Since doesn't use it enough. Ha ha?

He isn't buying it.

With a rare show of cerulean prowess, he lifts you up off of the shitty car rug and sets you on the seat beside him. He feels uncomfortable and you can tell. Ah, goddammit you made it weird. You didn't mean to. Fuck. Fuck now you're feeling even worse. You thought you were starting to balance out. You're with Mallek now, shouldn't everything start to quiet down like it always does? Fuck. He doesn't say anything at first, just leans back against the seat and stretches his arms across it, letting you lean on him if you choose to.

...You choose to.

Your head finds itself somewhere between his shoulder and his collarbone, and you just. Shove your face there. Then scream.

To his credit, Mallek doesn't even flinch. He doesn't wince or shy away from you as you let out every bit of anger, sadness, and frustration out against his sweater. He just sits quietly, staring straight at the blacked-out windshield. You get the feeling he's needed to do this more than once.

Screw this planet. Screw everything about it that makes all of your friends suffer. Why can't you just get them away from all this bullshit?! Why do you have to deal with everyone's bullshit! You love them, you do but holy fuck they're looking to you like you can undo all the damage this place has done to them when you've got literally no god damn idea what's happening at any point ever!

And then, just like that, it fades into the background. Your throat hurts. Your head hurts and you think you might be crying. But it feels lighter. Better now that you've gotten some of that aggression out. You aren't like the trolls on Alternia. You can't kill people when you experience an Emotion™. But that doesn't mean you don't get pent up with rage.

Mallek realizes that now. He lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and his left hand slowly moves down from the back of the seat the rest against your back. His thumb brushes against your back, the claw drawing little patterns against the fabric of your sweater. His sweater. He tries not to think his sign your chest. This isn't the time.

"Feeling any better?" He asks and you don't know how to answer. You kinda don't want to. But you nod anyways, and you feel some tension leave his body. You knew he was worried about you. You apologize for making him witness your meltdown but he just makes another deep-chested hum. "Nothing to apologize for. I got the feeling you weren't feeling great. I could tell from the texts, you didn't use nearly enough ugly emojis."

You scoff and smack a hand against his chest and once again you hear that wonderful laugh from him. Hey! Your purrbeast emojis are adorable, thank you very much! And you'll not hear another word of it or else you'll send him pictures of rocks and rocks exclusively. No more memes.

"Jokes on you I'm into that shit." You laugh and thump your head against his collarbone. You thank him for being with you when were needed it. And picking you up to make sure you didn't deal with it alone. You don't want to make it weird but...yeah.

He doesn't respond this time, just letting you both enjoy the silence and the comforting sound of the engine. You should almost be at Mallek's apartment by now. It's as you're settling in for the last bit of the drive that you notice that the limo isn't moving. And hasn't been for a while. Your head pops up in confusion and the little GPS display on the back of one of the seats says... yep.

You're already at Mallek's.

But then why is the engine still on? That can't be good for the environment. Do these things even run on gas or is it bugs? Bug gas? Gross.

You notice then that the rumbling is coming from behind you. Like. From where Mallek is sitting. He doesn't look away when you turn to him, just kind of tilting his head to the side with a little bit of a cerulean hue to his cheeks. Oh. Oh, the sound is coming from him. He's purring. That's.

That's adorable.

You feel yourself soften even more when he lifts his arms, silently offering a hug if you want it. Is this platonic? Is this more? You've never had too much trouble identifying what people wanted from you. (Debatable.) If was overtly flushed you could shut it down or divert it to something very much friends only. (Like your every exchange with Zebruh.) But did you even want to do that to your hackerman? You could feel yourself screaming, no, absolutely not. But at the same time, you didn't want things to change. You didn't want to make his issues any worse than they already were. He didn't have too much longer on the planet and you knew it would tear him apart.

But then he turned those blue eyes to you. He looked just as unsure as you were but he was willing to take the risk. He shoved himself so far out of his comfort zone for you and was asking you to be selfish. To want something for yourself and do something for yourself. Not put him or anyone else's wants first. Just your own. And so you did.

You crawled up into his lap, pressed yourself as close to him as you could and clung to him. His arms didn't hesitate to wrap around you and you could feel a shuddering breath from above you.

"We don't have to put a label on this... not yet. Or ever. Either way is chill with me. I just... yeah." He gave up with a little shrug of his shoulders but you knew what he meant. Unless you could find a way to fight fate he was going to go off-world. He was going to leave you and you doubted you'd be able to go with him. You'd probably get gored by a drone for even trying.

But even if it was just for now, just for a moment, you were going to take it. You were going to let yourself have something, have someone who would care for you no matter how long or short your time was. You'd take it. You had stomached some of the most horrible things on this planet but Mallek had always been a constant. And you got the feeling he thought the same way about you.

So, you'd take it. Whatever comes next, you'd take it. You listened to the sound of his purring, in no hurry to move to get inside the apartment. Mallek felt the same.

You exhaled.

You would be okay.

[starleska]

when Logic twists: an analysis of Logan, cognitive distortions, and a future Side

spoilers ahead! this is a little deep-dive into some foreshadowing in the latest Sanders Sides episode, and what i believe the team are going for in terms of Logan’s arc. just some thoughts i had after the episode - i hope you enjoy, and would love to hear your thoughts too :) tw for discussion around mental illness, trauma, abuse, intrusive thoughts, therapy, etc. 

so, we all know that Thomas does a marvellous job portraying difficulties with mental health. he uses interactions between his Sides to carve out fun stories that dramatise the the internal struggles which come with facing complex situations, including those which arise from your specific history and mental illnesses. the writing behind Sanders Sides often uses consideration of real symptoms and therapeutic techniques in order to impart useful advice to the audience who may be struggling with similar issues. with all of this in mind, i thoroughly believe that a good chunk of you are correct about this new Side (foreshadowed in Logan’s eyes) being Wrath, or some variant of Stress or Anger, and here’s why: 

Logan is the side of Thomas which is constantly needing to pick up the slack. not only does he spend a good deal of his time de-escalating conflict between the other Sides, he is constantly letting his own dreams (and consequently, needs) fall by the wayside to comfort, validate and assist Thomas' overall desires. we even literally see him benched during the court case with Janus - his input is considered unimportant unless he is deemed as the voice of reason. with this understanding, Logan is viewed by the other Sides as a Side who doesn’t need help. He’s Logic, so they believe he always knows what is appropriate, and how to control himself - or even that he doesn’t need to control himself at all.  yet i don’t believe this to be the case, and i think ‘Working THROUGH Intrusive Thoughts’ foreshadows this in an intriguing way: by utilising the dynamic between Logan and Remus. for context, i am speaking as an individual who suffers from Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (CPTSD), a form of PTSD. whilst the Thomas we know in the Sanders Sides universe is of course somewhat sanitised and simplified for the easier imparting of moral lessons, we know that this Thomas suffers from issues with intrusive thoughts, low self-esteem, and high anxiety. whether or not these can all be attributed to an underlying condition is irrelevant, but what is intriguing is whether these symptoms are being exacerbated by traumatic, triggering or otherwise stressful events affecting Thomas’ life - which, based on the direction ‘Working THROUGH Intrusive Thoughts’ went (using the relationship with Nico as a conduit), i think is true. when you experience a number of traumatic events or an acute amount of stress, your Logic can become faulty. let’s think about Logan not as a super-genius who just knows what is the correct thing to do all of the time: his knowledge comes from a bank of information and experiences, which he constantly uses to provide a ‘rational’ stance next to the more ‘emotional’ traits of each Side. yet Logic relies on evidence in order to build up this ‘rationality’. let’s think about a scenario wherein you are told every day by someone that you are ugly. now, if this occurred later in life, your Logic might have already rationalised that this is not the case - that you are beautiful just as you are, that this person is seeking to hurt you, that they are projecting, etc. your Logic would make those reasonable counterpoints based on past experience. however, if you were told by multiple people throughout your life, every day, that you are ugly - say, from caregivers, or close friends - you would internalise ‘i am ugly’ as part of that internal Logic. in the first scenario, you would be able to accurately evaluate the thought, ‘i am ugly’ as a cognitive distortion. however, in the latter scenario, you may be unable to, because you have this bank of ‘evidence’ that other people perceive this as reality. even if those people are abusers, or have an ulterior motive, the notion will be internalised and become your reality - so your Logic will say, ‘i am ugly, based on all of the evidence.’  i find this interesting because in this latest episode, they specifically had Logan call attention to cognitive distortions. we must remember that Logan is a part of Thomas. this is Thomas attempting to rationalise with himself, to implement mindfulness and CBT techniques which he knows to be successful, because they have worked in the past and he has it on scientific authority that they help with intrusive thoughts. but this leads us to a question: what happens when you experience so many traumatic events, or so much stress, that your Logic turns against you and begins to validate your intrusive thoughts?  imagine for a moment Logan’s awesome rational power - but levied in support of all of Thomas’ deepest fears. in my own experience with CPTSD, a horribly thorny mental trap is the one you fall into when you start down the path of ‘i must be a horrible person, just like they said. i must have deserved everything done to me. look at all of the evidence.’ these thoughts often appear rational due to the intense nature of the sufferer’s pain, particularly if that pain is repeated or prolonged. i believe that Logan’s outburst, paired with Thomas’ fretting over not receiving a call back from Nico, are supposed to represent the building stages of this mental trap. such thoughts are difficult to emerge from, but they become even more difficult to deal with when met with a powerful emotion: Rage. if you have cause to think thoughts of the ‘i am a disgusting human being’ variety thanks to trauma, stress or similar negative events, often there is a good deal of pent-up Rage stored alongside. justifiable Rage, one might say - it certainly feels so in the mind of someone who has suffered so terribly. if one is prone to hating themselves, feeling inadequate or other fertile breeding ground for intrusive thoughts, they may also sometimes snap into the opposite extreme - becoming infuriated by everything that has happened to them, and that they are still needing to deal with yet more pain in the present. this is something i have suffered from personally: when mixed with trauma, it is equal parts emotional dysregulation, and being triggered by something. you might be enRaged by the idea that you were ever ‘passive’ as a victim of something terrible, and want to ‘fight back’. in other words, the emotional state of your Rage will feel justified - and this can cause you to engage in some deeply destructive behaviours. this is why i believe this new Dark Side will be Rage (or an equivalent). Logan’s ‘STOP IGNORING ME!’ speaks of a breaking point brought on by years of fixing other people’s problems, only to receive very little in return. there’s a misconception that people who are ‘good’ at handling stress or fixing other people’s problems (i.e., not showing much of the strain) are simply less stressed as a whole, and therefore should be saddled with yet more stress. Logan’s screaming at Remus, and Remus’ delight at Logan’s response, shows us that Logan is exhausted from all of the hard work that he’s had to do in order to fight Thomas’ intrusive thoughts and cognitive distortions, alongside the massive amount of stress in his life. likewise, by giving into his impulsivity and opening up more opportunities for further stress, Thomas has allowed Logan - and his Logic - to become vulnerable to Remus and intrusive thoughts. Logan may have successfully been able to dispel the intrusive thoughts which had no basis in reality (for instance, a murderer hiding in Thomas’ closet) - but what happens if Thomas is given validation for an intrusive thought? in other words - what if Logan feels he has reason to listen to Remus? i believe this Rage has been simmering within Thomas for a long time, and his debut is going to be explosive. there are lots of ways this debut could be written; some have theorised that Logic and Rage will be a kind of antithesis to the Creativitwins, wherein the two are fused as Thomas has internalised his Rage as having a Logical root. this would have Rage not as a separate side, but a kind of version or alternate mindset for Logan, a bit like how he was when in Virgil’s room. i would not be surprised at all for this episode to include both Remus and Janus - Remus, revelling in the intrusive thoughts which Logan/Rage is now allowing to fly free, and Janus, delighting in Logan/Rage’s validation of destructive behaviours, which may well include Deceit. i could also see Virgil being drawn in by this irresistible combination of Anxiety-fuelling thoughts - intrusive thoughts inspiring inadequacy, Deceit inspiring fear of being found out, and the terror of Logic being twisted to validate every fear Virgil has ever had for Thomas. you know when someone has hurt you really badly, and so in your head you come up with countless (awful, unrealistic, hurtful) ways to ‘get back at them’? that’s what i think the next Sanders Sides episode is going to be like.  of course, like Anxiety, Intrusive Thoughts and Deceit, Rage will have his uses too. i believe, if any of this theorising is correct, that the next Sanders Sides episode will follow a narrative discussing if Rage is justified when one is hurt to a massive extreme, and what Logic can one follow when it backs up every destructive impulse. are you being Logical if you are full of Rage? basically, i think Logan (influenced by a breaking point and giving over to Rage) is going to do everything in his power to be destructive, under the idea that it is the only Logical thing to do. i believe he will fall to the horrific power of cognitive distortions and mental illness, and that the other Sides will need to use their strengths to bring him back. anyway, that’s all my thoughts! my apologies for any inaccuracies, or if anything in here was upsetting. i’d love to hear what you think about this, and your own theories! :D take care 💏

[no--envies]

Nightless City – An analysis of Wei Wuxian’s accountability

I’ve come across several takes about the bloodbath of Nightless City that don’t really sit well with me. Some people say Wei Wuxian is totally to blame, others that he’s totally blameless, and I personally disagree with both. I think that, like in many other events in the novel, what really happened is more complex.

(All the translations are by Exiled Rebels Scanlations)

First of all, the text shows us that Wei Wuxian wasn’t completely clear-headed even before going to Nightless City, which is normal considering what he was going through. His whole world had crumbled in just a few hours. Everything he’d done until that moment – the sacrifices he had made for what he believed was right – appeared to be for nothing. He ended up hurting the people most dear to him, and he couldn’t even protect those he had wanted to protect. When he could move again after the three days he spent in the cave immobilized by Wen Qing’s needle, for a while he didn’t even know what to do or where to go.

After he got down the mountain, he stood amid the bushes, catching his breath. Bent down, he propped his hands against his knees for a long while before he stood up straight again. Yet, looking at the wild grasses that covered many of the mountain paths, he didn’t know where to go.

Burial Mound—he’d just gone down from there.

Lotus Pier—he hadn’t been back in over a year.

Koi Tower? Three days had passed already. If he went now, it was likely that Wen Qing’s corpse and Wen Ning’s ashes were the only things left.

He stood blankly. Suddenly, he felt that the world had no place for him, despite how large it was. He didn’t know what to do either.

(Chapter 77)

It’s rare to see Wei Wuxian so utterly lost and miserable. What happened was too much for even someone like him – who always tends to look at the bright side of any situation – to be able to deal with it. Since he doesn’t know where else to go, he decides to go to Koi Tower to retrieve the Wen siblings’ ashes, but he doesn’t manage to do anything before he’s discovered and forced to flee. He wanders without purpose for a long time until he arrives at a city gate where he hears a group of cultivators talking about him with contempt, which triggers his anger.

The longer Wei WuXian listened, the colder his expression grew.

He should’ve understood long ago. No matter what he did, not a single good word would come out of these people’s mouths. When he won, others feared; when he lost, others rejoiced.

He was cultivating the crooked path either way, so what exactly did the years of persistence mean? What exactly were they for?

However, the colder his eyes were, the brighter the raging fire within his heart burned.

(Chapter 77)

We see him come to a very bitter realization: no matter his noble intentions and moral integrity, everyone has already made up their mind about him, he would be made into a villain no matter what he does. Before what happened at Qiongqi Path he had managed to keep a positive mindset, since he was doing fine in the Burial Mounds with the Wen remnants. It wasn’t an easy life, but they were safe, they didn’t starve and Wei Wuxian was free to focus on his research and inventions in peace, creating the Compass of Evil and the Spirit-Attraction Flag. He missed his family, but he also found another one. He had people who loved him and valued him, and whom he loved and valued in turn. All in all, he was content. He thought that as long as he didn’t actively seek trouble, the world would leave him alone. But he was wrong. Jin Zixun ambushed him accusing him of something he didn’t do, and everything spiraled down so quickly he couldn’t do anything to prevent it, until he lost control of his demonic cultivation and killed Jin Zixuan.

In this moment, Wei Wuxian feels completely alone. The Wen siblings are gone, his beloved shijie might hate him for killing her husband and the cultivation world as a whole can’t wait to besiege him. If it had been another time, he wouldn’t have beaten up those random cultivators. It’s not like it was the first time he heard awful rumors about himself. The fact that he reacts so violently here says a lot about the state of mind he’s in. Wei Wuxian is clearly looking for a way to vent his anger, so he takes it out on the cultivators who are speaking ill of him. His rage is justified: not only were they saying malicious things about him without even knowing the full story, but they were doing it cowardly behind his back. However, his reaction is somewhat disproportionate to their offense: one of them gets kicked in the face until he passes out from the pain, while another gets his legs broken for daring to speak up. Although he doesn’t kill them, he does terrorize them and in the end he leaves them there immobilized by the spirits he had summoned (if Lan Wangji hadn’t been looking for Wei Wuxian, who knows how long they would have had to wait to be freed).

After this, Wei Wuxian sees the announcement of the pledge conference and goes to Nightless City. I’ve seen people argue that he was only trying to protect the Wen remnants and that the people who were there had already pledged to kill him, so it was self-defense. But is it really the case? Personally, I don’t think what he did was self-defense. Sure, he tried to discuss first and didn’t attack until he was attacked, but defending himself and the Wen remnants wasn’t the main reason he was there in the first place.

The crowd flung curses at him, but Wei WuXian accepted all of them.

Anger was the only thing that could suppress the other feelings within his heart.

(Chapter 78)

All of his pain, desperation and guilt were too much to handle at once, so he tried to suppress them all with anger, and directed that anger at the people who hated him. Wei Wuxian didn’t go to the pledge conference to try to prevent the siege from happening (since he thought it wouldn’t change anything anyway) or to weaken the Sects’ forces. He went there to vent his anger and frustration. Wei Wuxian is not clear-headed here, as highlighted by this passage:

Wei WuXian spun around to dodge the attack and laughed, “Fine, fine. I knew since the start that we’d have to fight a real fight like this one sooner or later. You’ve always found me disagreeable no matter what. Come on!”

Hearing this, Lan WangJi’s movements paused, “Wei Ying!”

Although he shouted the words, any sane person would be able to tell that Lan WangJi’s voice was clearly shaking. However, right now, Wei WuXian had already lost his judgement. He was already half-mad, half-unconscious. All evil was being augmented by him. He felt that everyone loathed him and he loathed everyone as well. He wouldn’t be scared no matter who came at him. It wouldn’t matter no matter who came at him. It was all the same anyway.

(Chapter 78)

In this moment Wei Wuxian believes everyone hates him and there’s no use trying to convince them otherwise – there’s no use trying to reason with them in a diplomatic way because no matter what he says or does, his words will be twisted to fit the opinions of the crowd. He almost welcomes the attack because this way he can attack them back and vent all his pent-up anger. Wei Wuxian is not behaving like his usual self here. He can’t see Lan Wangji isn’t trying to hurt him because his mind is not lucid. This is why he loses control of his demonic cultivation for the second time, injuring Jiang Yanli.

His shijie is the only one who manages to calm him down a little despite his chaotic state of mind. He manages to stop the corpses from attacking everyone and waits for her to tell him what she thinks of him, if she forgives him or not. However, she dies to save his life before being able to say anything, and the whole situation becomes simply too much for him to bear. All of his emotions crush him at once, so in his already half-unconscious state he activates the Tiger Seal, effectively erasing any chance he might have had to redeem himself in the eyes of society.

The point of this analysis isn’t to blame or absolve Wei Wuxian. It’s very easy to empathize with his anguish in these scenes. What he was going through was incredibly stressful and the root cause (the ambush at Qiongqi Path) wasn’t his fault. Even Lan Wangji says he can neither condemn nor justify his actions, but he’s willing to face all the consequences with him anyway.

I told [Wangji] when I went to see him, Young Master Wei had already made a grave mistake, there was no use augmenting it. But he said… that he could not say with certainty whether what you did was right or wrong, but no matter what, he was willing to be responsible for all of the consequences alongside you.

(Chapter 99)

Wei Wuxian isn’t blameless for what happened at Nightless City. I don’t think he’s proud of what he did and all the people he killed, either. The fact that he destroyed the Tiger Seal after returning to the Burial Mounds is quite telling. He definitely didn’t act in the most rational and clear-headed way, which resulted in a lot of people – including his shijie – to lose their lives, but the point of all this is that Wei Wuxian is human. He makes mistakes because no one is infallible, no matter how heroic, selfless and virtuous. Not even he can be totally immune to all the criticism and accusasions, even though he often acts like he is. Wei Wuxian is a fundamentally positive person, so most of the time he can ignore the bad things that happen to him and focus on the good, but this time his situation was simply too extreme for anyone to be able to stand it.