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pucksandpower · 24 days

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Something Sweet

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: the story of your relationship … as told through gelato (in honor of Charles opening an ice cream shop)

The warm spring sun beats down on your face as you stroll along the winding streets of Monaco, gelato in hand. You savor each sweet bite, the rich hazelnutty flavor melting across your tongue.

This is bliss.

You just moved here to attend university and every day feels like a dream come true exploring your new home principality.

The picturesque buildings with their sun-baked stucco walls and colorful tiled roofs line the narrow alleyways. Locals bustle about, chatting rapidly in French as scooters whiz by. The air carries a tang of salt from the glittering Mediterranean just beyond the palace ramparts.

You could get used to this.

Suddenly, a body careens around the corner, slamming right into you. You stumble backward as the gelato goes flying, splattering across the quaint cobblestones in a sticky mess.

“Oh mon dieu, I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” A frantic voice rings out as a pair of strong hands steady you before you can topple over completely.

You look up, slightly dazed, into a pair of warm green eyes filled with concern. The man is clad in athletic shorts and a snug t-shirt, damp with sweat from an obvious run. Tousled chestnut hair flops across his forehead in an effortlessly tousled way.

He’s … incredibly handsome.

Like, stupid levels of handsome.

“I’m fine, really,” you stammer out, feeling your cheeks flush as his hands linger almost ... protectively on your arms. “Just clumsy me dropping my gelato.”

He grimaces, following your gaze to the melting puddle. “I’m such an idiot, let me replace that for you.” His face is the picture of remorse as he gently releases his grip.

You wave him off with an awkward chuckle. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal ...”

But he’s already shaking his head adamantly. “No, no I insist. That looked delicious and it’s entirely my fault.” He shoots you a lopsided grin that makes your heart skip a beat. “I know this amazing little place that makes the best gelato in Monaco. My treat to make up for barreling into you like that.”

You can’t help but be charmed by his earnestness as you nod slowly in acceptance. “Well, when you put it like that ...”

“Perfect!” He beams at you, that bright smile crinkling the corners of his eyes in the most delightful way. “I’m Charles, by the way.”

You introduce yourself as well as Charles begins leading you deeper into the winding backstreets, clearly knowing exactly where he’s going. You can’t help stealing sidelong glances at him as you walk, admiring the strong muscles of his arms and shoulders visible through his fitted shirt.

Finally, he ducks into a tiny alleyway, stopping before an unassuming doorway you surely would have just passed right by. A faded sign hangs above reading Gelatomania in curling script.

“This place is my favorite,” Charles confides in a conspiratorial murmur as he holds the door for you. “Family-run for generations and miles better than any of the touristy places.”

You step inside and are immediately enveloped in a thick, sugary aroma that makes your mouth water. A few little metal tables with rickety chairs are squeezed into the compact space, but it’s the immaculate glass cases lining the walls that draw your eye.

Filled with every flavor imaginable, the gelato looks utterly divine — from naturally green pistachio to decadent chocolate hazelnut to tangy lemon. An older woman with a grandmotherly face greets Charles like an old friend in rapid Italian from behind the counter.

He responds easily in kind before turning back to you. “What’ll it be? I recommend the hazelnut again if you liked your first one.”

You nod and watch, utterly charmed, as Charles places your order for a fresh hazelnut gelato with a deferential “per favore” and that knee-weakening smile of his. He gets a simple vanilla for himself before paying and leading you over to a little iron table outside in a sliver of sunshine.

You take your first bite and … oh my god. This is gelato from the heavens themselves. You can’t contain the downright blissful moan that escapes your lips as the divinely creamy, rich concoction melts across your tongue.

“Good, right?” Charles looks incredibly pleased at your rapturous reaction as he digs into his own treat with gusto.

“This might be the single most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted,” you admit fervently between increasingly enthusiastic licks and bites. “How have I survived this long without knowing this place existed?”

Charles throws his head back with a full-bellied laugh at your passionate proclamation. God, even his laugh is unfairly attractive ...

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” he grins around a mouthful of velvety vanilla. “I’ve been coming here since before I could walk. Quickly became my favorite gelato spot.”

“You’ve lived here a while then?” You ask between savoring bites of the impossibly luscious confection. “I only just moved for university.”

Charles nods as he licks a stray drip from his thumb. “Yeah, born and raised a few streets over actually.”

There’s a slight lull as you both focus on thoroughly demolishing your gelato for a few contented minutes, exchanging occasional muffled hums of sheer delight. The warm sun filtering through the awning casts a soft golden glow over the little alleyway, lending everything a dreamlike haze of perfection.

“So beyond being from here, do you have any exciting hobbies or interests?” You ask eventually, dragging the conversation back into the open.

“Well ...” Charles’ expression morphs into one of almost sheepish amusement as he leans back in his rickety chair. “You could say my hobby is also kind of my job. I’m actually a Formula 1 driver, believe it or not.”

You damn near choke on your next bite as his words register. “You’re what? As in ... a race car driver? In Formula 1? Seriously?”

There’s no way this stunning man is being truthful. Sure, he looks like he could be some kind of athlete with that perfectly toned physique. But a literal professional race car driver? The thought is almost too crazy to be believed.

Charles just laughs again at your dumbfounded reaction, clearly used to this response as he nods. “Seriously! I compete for Ferrari if you follow the races at all?”

You think you might pass out from shock as everything clicks into place — the athletic build, the way people seemed to stare as he passed them on the street, the laid-back confidence and easy smile of someone incredibly comfortable in their own skin ...

“Oh my god, you’re ... you’re Charles freaking Leclerc, aren’t you?” You gape at him in abject disbelief. “As in, the guy literally plastered on the huge billboard across from my apartment? Leading the championship? Incredibly talented and famous?”

He lets out an almost bashful chuckle at your rapid-fire incredulous questioning, shrugging one broad shoulder. “Well, I don’t know about incredibly talented or famous. But yes, that’s me — just your average local race car driver currently making an absolute mess while eating gelato.”

Here you sit, having just shared an utterly divine dessert while shamelessly ogling one of the most popular and well-known athletes in the damn world … and he’s acting like it’s absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. Like you’re just two regular people enjoying a sweet treat together on a sunny day.

“I can’t believe I’m having this conversation right now,” you murmur, shaking your head slowly. “Do you have any idea how many people would kill to literally just ... sit across from you like this while you eat mediocre gas station ice cream, much less the world’s best gelato? I’m … stunned you’re so nonchalant about this whole thing.”

Charles merely flashes you a self-deprecating grin as he pops the last bite of cone into his mouth. “Well, to me you’re not some screaming fangirl, but just a lovely new friend I enjoy gelato with. Though my ego certainly appreciates the compliments.”

He winks at you impishly and you feel an unwitting smile tugging at the corners of your own lips despite your lingering disbelief. You suppose being surrounded by such incredible wealth and luxury every day in Monaco, Charles likely doesn’t register it anymore. Not to mention the clearly down-to-earth personality he seems to possess given that genuine humility.

The hours just seem to slip effortlessly by then as the two of you continue to chat and laugh and bask in the perfect afternoon contentment of the moment. Charles regales you with ridiculous behind-the-scenes stories about increasingly crazy bets with his friends and crew during the season. You share equally hilarious tales of your own coming-of-age mishaps as an overeager teenager.

At some point, you both reach for your long-empty dishes simultaneously, fingers brushing in a spark of contact that sends your pulse stuttering. Charles doesn’t pull back, letting his hand linger outrageously close to yours as his warm gaze stays locked intensely on your face.

You try to swallow past a suddenly dry throat as the atmosphere shifts abruptly, suddenly heavy with the hot crackle of unmistakable chemistry and unspoken tension. But then, just like that, the moment passes as quickly as it came.

Your phone buzzes loudly in your pocket with a text, the notification startling you both back to reality. Charles sits back, clearing his throat slightly as you pull your hand away to quickly check the message.

It’s from your roommate asking when you’ll be home for dinner and if you need her to start cooking.

You glance up at Charles with an apologetic grimace. “I should probably head back. I didn’t realize how late it’s gotten.”

He blinks rapidly before seeming to visibly shake himself. “Right, of course! Time really got away from us, didn’t it?”

You stand as Charles rises smoothly to his feet as well, shoving both hands casually in his pockets. “So ... I had a really great time with you today,” he says carefully, something almost hesitant flickering across his face. “And I’d love a chance to take you out again sometime soon, if you’re interested? Maybe grab dinner when I’m back in town?”

Your breath catches in your throat at the unmistakable request for an actual date. With Charles freaking Leclerc no less ...

Tamping down your sudden nerves, you nod slowly as a shy smile blossoms on your lips. “I’d really like that,” you admit truthfully. “Let’s definitely do dinner whenever you’re free.”

His whole expression brightens immediately at your affirmation, lips stretching in a wide grin of pure delight. “Perfect! I’ll be back from my next race in just over a week then. How about exchanging numbers so I can let you know as soon as I’ve returned?”

You quickly rattle off your number as Charles punches it into his phone before doing the same for you. As if sealing some unspoken deal, he sticks out his hand to shake yours, that warm roughened grip lingering perhaps a moment longer than strictly necessary.

“I’ll text you soon then,” Charles murmurs intently, that spark of heat flickering in his eyes again. “Promise me you’ll say yes this time.”

You can only nod mutely, mouth gone bone-dry at the pointed words and heated look washing over you. Charles maintains that blistering eye contact and heart-stalling grip on your palm for another loaded handful of seconds, leaving you dizzy with giddy anticipation.

Then, just like that, he releases your hand with one final squeeze before taking a step back, seemingly satisfied by your stunned agreement. Charles shoots you one last lingering look and crooked grin before turning to stride easily back the way you came.

You remain rooted in place for a long moment, utterly dazed by the entire surreal scenario as you watch his broad shoulders and narrow waist disappear down the narrow alleyway.

Today started out as any other nothing-out-of-the-ordinary spring day in your new home. But now … now you have an actual date scheduled with an unbelievably charming and disarmingly down-to-earth racing superstar.

A giddy giggle bubbles up from deep in your chest as reality finally settles in. Who could have ever predicted that bumping into your new acquaintance — quite literally — would lead to not only discovering the most heavenly gelato on the planet, but lining up a date with an internationally famous athlete?

Suddenly, your bright future studying in Monaco just got about ten thousand times more interesting …

***

The week passes by in a blur of anticipation after your initial meeting with Charles. You can barely focus during lectures, your mind constantly wandering to that charming grin and those warm eyes crinkling at the corners whenever he laughed.

Finally, the evening you’ve been eagerly awaiting arrives. You’ve just finished getting ready — pulling on a flowy sundress and brushing out your hair one last time — when your phone buzzes with a new text.

I’m outside whenever you’re ready for our date night. Looking forward to seeing you again 😘

You can’t bite back your giddy smile as you quickly reply that you’re heading out before taking one last steadying breath.

It’s just Charles … the internationally famous and absurdly handsome Formula 1 driver you’ve somehow managed to snag a date with.

No big deal at all.

The evening air carries a pleasantly cool breeze as you exit your apartment building, scanning the idling line of vehicles for Charles’ car. You spot him immediately, leaning against the gleaming metallic side of what you now recognize as an eye-wateringly expensive Ferrari.

Charles looks … unfairly gorgeous. He’s shed his athletic wear in favor of a simple white linen shirt and tailored slacks that somehow make him appear even more effortlessly suave. His hair is artfully tousled and damn if those clothes don’t accentuate every hard plane and corded muscle of his built frame.

You must be staring because suddenly Charles is pushing off from the car and straightening to his full height, those intense eyes crinkling warmly as soon as they land on you.

“You look stunning,” he murmurs appreciatively once you’ve drawn closer, making a show of trailing his gaze slowly up and down your figure. You’re abruptly grateful for the dusky twilight hiding your furious blush at the blatant admiration in his tone.

“Thanks,” you manage to get out without your voice shaking too noticeably. “You don’t look half bad yourself, race car man.”

Charles throws back his head with one of those deep-bellied laughs you’re quickly becoming addicted to. “Why thank you, gelato girl.” He shoots you a wink before surprising you by gallantly offering his arm. “Shall we?”

You take it without hesitation, reveling in the solid warmth of his bicep pressed against your side as Charles leads you to the waiting glossy black sports car. He opens the door for you like an old-fashioned gentleman, closing it carefully once you’re tucked inside the buttery leather interior.

The engine roars to life with a powerful rumble and you can’t resist shooting Charles an impressed look as he deftly maneuvers out onto the street.

“You know, I’m starting to think this little hobby of yours might not be too bad of a gig,” you tease lightly, waving a hand at the sleek interior compartment.

“I can’t complain,” Charles volleys back with a crooked grin, seamlessly navigating the tight turns of the old city. “Sometimes they even let me drive in circles really fast just for fun.”

You roll your eyes at his retort, but can’t quite wipe the smile off your face as Charles guns the engine, the car surging forward in a burst of speed and power. Clearly the man knows how to leverage any opportunity to show off those expert driving skills … not that you mind one bit.

Eventually, Charles pulls up in front of an unassuming doorway you never would have noticed tucked down a quiet side street. The understated sign above simply reads Trattoria Giovanni.

“This place has been run by the same Italian family for over fifty years,” Charles explains as he holds the door for you. “Best authentic cuisine in the city, but you would never find it unless you knew where to look.”

The interior appears to have been plucked directly from a rustic Tuscan villa — burnished wooden beams criss-crossing the curved ceilings and terracotta tiles underfoot. You breathe in deeply, savoring the mouthwatering aromas of garlic, tomato sauce, and fresh bread wafting from the open kitchen.

An older man with a thick mustache and crisp white apron greets Charles immediately in fluent Italian, ushering you both back to a cozy alcove table secluded in the very rear. He pours you both generous glasses of deep red wine before disappearing again with a conspiratorial wink in your direction.

“So, how was your race?” You ask between sips once you and Charles are alone, genuinely curious about the difficult career he’s managed to carve out.

He shrugs one broad shoulder almost dismissively. “Decent enough, I suppose. Grabbed another podium finish, but didn’t quite have the pace for the win.” There’s no disappointment or frustration in his tone as he speaks, just a simple statement of fact.

“I’m endlessly in awe that you treat accomplishments like that so casually,” you admit with a shake of your head. “Finishing in the top three in Formula 1 seems like the kind of thing most people would be over the moon about.”

Charles lets out a low chuckle at that, leaning towards you over the small table with eyes twinkling mischievously. “Well maybe I need to find a new way to impress someone like you then.”

You open your mouth to respond with a playful retort of your own, but Charles’ gaze has already strayed to somewhere past your shoulder.

“Ah, perfect timing then. Here’s Giovanni himself with our orders.”

Sure enough, the older man you spotted earlier bustles up with a tray overflowing with piping hot plates of food. He doles out the dishes methodically while rattling off a stream of explanations about preparations and ingredients that have clearly been passed down for many generations.

Everything looks and smells utterly divine — from the heaping bowl of glistening spaghetti blanketed in a simmering tomato sauce to the golden-baked chicken drenched in rosemary and olive oil. The endlessly affable Giovanni even sets down a small ceramic dish full of creamy pale cheese, patting Charles on the shoulder.

“The burrata for you and your lady friend. Freshly made this morning by my wife,” he declares proudly before whisking himself away again.

For the next blissful hour or two, you and Charles completely lose yourselves in this veritable feast for the senses. You savor each and every decadent bite — moaning around the pillowy strands of spaghetti and tearing off chunks of the crusty, herb-brushed breads to soak up the savory juices.

Charles, for his part, dives into the meal with just as much enthusiasm, occasionally reaching over to snag a bite off of your plate until you resort to smacking his wandering fork away between fits of laughter.

Stuffed and utterly content, you both eventually push away your long-cleared dishes to nurse the final sips of your wine as the evening stretches languorously on. You fall into these simple moments like an old habit by now — trading comfortable silences and contented looks between impassioned recounts of childhood anecdotes or musings about life.

Finally, as the candles on the small wooden tables begin to gutter and wane, Charles summons over your waiter to settle the check with a few murmured words and one of those knee-weakening smiles. Rising smoothly, he extends his hand in a wordless invitation for you to join him back out into the balmy evening.

This time, instead of heading for the car, Charles tucks your hand into the crook of his elbow before choosing a new direction — down a maze of narrow streets until you finally emerge along the harbor’s edge. Strings of twinkling lights reflect off the lapping waves while the soft strains of background music filter out from somewhere nearby.

“Feel like grabbing a little dessert to walk off that incredible meal?” Charles asks in a low murmur, bumping your shoulder conspiratorially.

You shoot him an incredulous look even as you nod. “You mean in addition to the literal feast we both just had?”

Charles tugs you closer to his side until your hips graze together as you match strides. “There’s always room for gelato,” he counters with an arched brow. “Besides, when in Monaco ...”

Any further protests die on your lips as Charles guides you around another tight corner to reveal that familiar cheerful gelato shop from your initial meeting. The old woman behind the counter greets you both like regulars already, no doubt thanks to Charles’ frequent patronage.

You maneuver through the small line until it’s your turn to order. “I think I’ll go with the tiramisu flavor this time,” you decide, mouth already watering at the prospect of that rich coffee and creamy goodness. “What about you? Mixing it up or still sticking with the basics?”

Charles shakes his head resolutely as he hands over a few crisp bills to pay for your treats. “Trust me, a heaping helping of simple vanilla is just as gratifying as all those overly complicated flavor combinations.”

You balk at his slander, bumping his shoulder with your own without any real heat. “How dare you insult my incredible palette like that?” You glare at him in mock offense. “I’ll have you know I have some of the most refined gelato taste in all of Monaco now.”

“Oh yeah?” Charles tips his chin down with a challenging smirk twisting his full lips. “Well what if I told you that vanilla is scientifically proven to be the most popular and beloved flavor in existence?”

“By who? Basic boring people?” You volley back mercilessly, eagerly leaning into the playful banter now. “If anything, those findings just demonstrated how sadly uncreative society at large is.”

Charles barks out a booming laugh as he grabs your hand and tugs you back out of the shop, gelato in the other. “You heathen! We’re clearly going to need to educate you on the finer points of flavor appreciation.”

Your eyes narrow dangerously even as you let yourself be lead to a nearby bench overlooking the gently lapping waves. “Oh, you’re on, Leclerc. Let’s see if your vanilla snobbery holds up after a taste of tiramisu heaven.”

You scoop up an exaggeratedly generous spoonful of the divinely rich, creamy gelato and make a show of savoring it with overstated moans of delight. “Oh my god, this is so good. Here, you have to try this! It’s life-changing.”

Charles wrinkles his nose even as you wave the spoonful enticingly in front of him. “Nice try but I would never cheat on vanilla!”

The two of you devolve into helpless laughter at that point, dissolving into breathless giggles over the ridiculous debate getting more outrageous by the minute. Finally, you relent in the battle, settling back into the cool metal of the bench and turning your face up to the inky sea of stars glittering overhead.

“You’re right though — sometimes simple really is best,” you admit finally in a softer tone, slowly licking another sweet bite off your spoon.

Charles hums in agreement next to you, shuffling closer until your arms brush together with body heat and contact. “The classics never go out of style.”

The next comfortable silence stretches out between you as you take your time savoring your treats while simultaneously drinking in the breathtaking view laid out before you. The water laps almost hypnotically at the shoreline, twinkling reflection of docked yachts bobbing gently on the calm surface.

A breeze skates across your bare arms, raising a faint ripple of goosebumps along your skin. Charles notices immediately, shifting even nearer until he can shrug out of the lightweight jacket he had been wearing.

Without a word, he swings the soft fabric around your shoulders, tucking it securely around your front. You burrow instinctively into the material, the lingering body heat and remnants of his cologne wrapping you up in an cocoon of soothing warmth and intoxicating comfort.

With your free hand, you toy idly with the collar until Charles’ arm comes up to curl around your shoulders, effectively enveloping you into his solid frame. You let your cheek tip onto the firm muscle of his arm as Charles squeezes you closer with a contented exhale.

Time becomes meaningless suspended in that perfect sea-side bubble, waves flowing rhythmically while you enjoy every last savored bite of your melting treats. You let the quiet inevitability of dropping your head onto Charles’ shoulder wash over you, his familiar cologne invading your senses until your entire world narrows to just him.

When Charles polishes off the final bite of his cone and you go to shift away, another cool gust skitters across the harbor. He tightens the arm curved around you, making no move to let you up or leave the cozy haven you’ve made.

“I could get used to evenings like this, you know,” he murmurs eventually, lips brushing the top of your head. “Just taking it slow and savoring each other’s company without a single worry or care beyond where to find the best gelato.”

You hum in sleepy agreement, luxuriating in the casual intimacy of having Charles wrapped so protectively around you. Part of you can scarcely believe how instantaneous and natural this connection has blossomed between you already. But another part feels like you’ve finally found your soul’s missing piece slotting seamlessly into place after stumbling around lost and incomplete for so long without ever realizing it.

The two of you remain suspended in that perfect, tranquil bubble for what could be minutes or hours more. You’ve completely lost track of any sense of time beyond the lullaby of the gentle waves and occasional murmur of Charles’ breathing ruffling your hair.

Eventually though, his stirring signals a slow return to the real world as Charles regretfully extricates himself from your entwined position with clear reluctance.

“I should probably get you back before your roommate starts to worry,” he says remorsefully as he slides off the bench to offer you a steadying hand up.

You accept it without hesitation, but can’t resist clinging to his jacket still cocooned around your shoulders, unwilling to shrug off that lingering cocoon of comfort and safety just yet. Charles notices, allowing a tiny grin to quirk one side of his mouth upwards as he takes in your refusal to part with it.

“Looks good on you,” he murmurs with unmistakable heat in those hypnotizing eyes. “I may have to let you hang on to that one for a while.”

Your mouth goes abruptly dry at the blatant implications in his tone, but you manage a coy smile in return as you turn to make your way back towards wherever Charles has his car crookedly parked.

The streets are all but abandoned by the time you arrive at the discreet entrance of your apartment building. Charles hesitates a split second before rounding the front of the gleaming Ferrari to face you properly on the quiet sidewalk.

“Thank you for an incredible evening,” you say honestly, gazing up at his silhouette in the dim glow of the streetlamps. “I don’t think I can even put into words how special you’ve managed to make me feel these past couple weeks.”

His expression softens instantly. One calloused palm comes up to tenderly cup your jaw, tilting your face up towards his with feather-light reverence.

“The pleasure has been all mine, I assure you,” Charles rumbles in a low tone that steals your breath away. “I don’t think you’ll ever realize just how remarkable you are, ma belle.”

Your eyes flutter shut without conscious thought as his nose brushes yours. Charles’ lips glide torturously against your cheek leaving a blazing trail to the very corner of your mouth.

The softest, most infinitely gentle press of satin flesh on flesh and then he’s pulling back — his ragged exhale warm and intoxicating against your tingling lips. You chase his retreat on instinct, but Charles is already withdrawing further with clear reluctance.

“I’m afraid I don’t trust myself to take things slow quite yet if I stay,” he murmurs in a strained rasp, pupils blown wide and dark. “But I do hope you’ll allow me to make this our new gelato tradition from now on ...”

It takes you several faltering attempts to find your voice again, chest rising and falling rapidly in the aftermath of that lightning bolt of affection. Finally, you manage a jerky nod, sliding one trembling hand over his where it still cups your cheek.

“I want that more than anything,” you confess in a hushed tone. “Just ... promise me we’ll see each other soon.”

He releases a shuddering breath of unbridled relief, dipping his forehead to rest against yours. “Soon,” Charles vows lowly. “I promise.”

You stare up into his earnest eyes. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Charles’ lips quirk in that lopsided grin you already adore so much. “I’m counting on it.”

With obvious reluctance, he finally steps away, snagging your hand to press one last searing kiss to your knuckles that has your heart stuttering all over again. Charles holds your gaze as you carefully back away towards the entrance, unwilling or unable to fully turn your back until the very last moment.

You chance a glance over your shoulder as you reach the front doors. Charles is still there, unmoving in a pool of streetlight beside his idling Ferrari, hands shoved in his pockets as he tracks your every step until you’ve slipped safely inside.

Exhaling a shuddering breath, you lean back against the cool stone wall, fingers coming up to ghost across your still-tingling lips almost disbelievingly.

When you finally muster the courage to peek through the glass once more, Charles has moved to lean against the side of his car, head tilted back as he stares into the lobby with an unmistakable softness etched across those chiseled features.

You can’t resist pressing your palm to the pane in a gesture you know he’ll recognize. Sure enough, Charles’ intense gaze instantly snaps to lock on you from across the quiet street, expression melting into pure adoration and wonder. His lips shape the same promise he uttered just moments ago — soon — as your own quirk in a delighted smile.

One last impulsive spark of inspiration has you playfully blowing him a single kiss through the barrier between you. Charles catches the invisible token easily, hand flying up to press over that broad chest as he throws back his head with a laugh that you can’t hear but imagine with vivid clarity.

You stand there transfixed, drinking in every last detail of him — the effortless elegance he carries himself with, the striking planes of his handsome face, and those beautiful eyes glittering with a thousand unspoken promises under the streetlamps.

Finally, with your own vow to reunite pulsing between you, Charles slides behind the wheel of his car. The powerful engine roars to life, twin beams from the headlights sweeping up to briefly wash through the windows of the lobby in a silent farewell before he’s peeling away into the night back towards the glittering city center.

You remain at the entrance for several long minutes basking in the memory of Charles’ phantom embrace still clinging to your skin. Only once his Ferrari has faded into the distance do you finally turn towards the elevator up to your apartment — every footstep lighter than air in the wake of an evening that lived up to even your wildest dreams of romantic splendor.

The simple joy and humble pleasure of a perfect scoop of creamy gelato will always hold untold meaning now as the spark marking the start of something beautiful blossoming between you and Charles.

And, as you finally drift off that night with a permanent smile etched across your face, you know without a shadow of a doubt that no flavor in the world could ever compare to the sweet indulgence of a life together just waiting to be savored and explored.

***

The warm spring breeze carries the sweet floral scents of the Brera Botanical Garden through the air as you stroll hand-in-hand with Charles. His fingers are laced through yours, his thumb gently stroking over your knuckles. You can’t help stealing glances at his handsome profile — the defined jawline, those soft kiss-curled lips, those kind green eyes that always seem to be smiling even when the rest of his face isn’t.

“What are you looking at?” Charles says with an amused grin, catching you staring again. You just shake your head and squeeze his hand tighter.

“Nothing. Just admiring the view,” you tease. Charles laughs that bright, infectious laugh of his that never fails to make your heart flutter.

You come to a stop beneath a blossoming cherry tree, pale pink petals floating down around you. Charles turns to face you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Y/N … there’s something I want to talk to you about,” he begins, suddenly uncharacteristically nervous. You tilt your head curiously. “You know how passionate I am about racing, about Formula 1. It’s been my dream since I was a little boy.”

“Of course,” you nod, unable to stop a small smile. Charles’ love for motorsports is one of the many things you have come to adore about him.

“Well, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately,” Charles continues, taking both your hands in his. “And I’ve realized that I want to have something else in my life too. A … passion project, you could say. Something that’s away from all the spotlight and pressure.”

Your brow furrows slightly as you try to imagine what he could mean. Charles has spoken before about potentially getting more involved in charity work or environmentalism on top of his racing career. But the almost childlike excitement dancing in his eyes tells you this is something different.

“I’m going to open a gelato shop,” he blurts out finally. You blink dumbly.

“A … gelato shop?” You repeat slowly. Out of all the possibilities, that was definitely not what you were expecting.

“Yes!” Charles grins broadly, clearly delighted by your surprise. “Think about it,Y/N. What’s more perfect than gelato made right here in the heart of Milano? And I’ve already found the ideal location — a little shop just across the street from here. Can’t you just picture it?”

He starts gesturing animatedly, that bright smile never leaving his face as he outlines his grand vision. You can’t help getting caught up in his infectious enthusiasm, even if the idea still seems a bit random.

“I’m going to call it Lec,” Charles says with a proud smile. You let out an undignified snort of laughter.

“Lec? Like your last name?” You shake your head in amusement. He looks almost offended by your reaction.

“No, no, not just my last name,” he corrects you seriously. “Lec as in … our last name. Yours and mine.”

The words hang in the air as realization slowly starts to dawn on you. You open and close your mouth dumbly as Charles takes a deep breath, sliding off the path onto one knee on the ground before you. With shaking hands, he pulls out a small black box from his pocket and flips it open to reveal the most stunning diamond ring you’ve ever seen.

“Y/N Y/L/N … you are my world, my everything,” Charles’ voice is thick with emotion as he gazes up at you. “I cannot imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else by my side. I want to wake up every morning and go to sleep every night with you beside me forever.”

Tears are already welling in your eyes, one hand pressed to your trembling lips as you listen to the beautiful words.

“Will you ...” Charles’ voice catches in his throat and he has to clear it before continuing. “Will you do me the greatest honor and become my wife? Will you marry me?”

The last few words come out in a rush of breath. You’re vaguely aware of several other people in the gardens who’ve stopped to watch, but all you can see is Charles’ face — hopeful and vulnerable and so full of pure adoration for you.

“Yes!” You finally manage to choke out through your joyful tears. “Oh my god, yes! Yes of course I’ll marry you!”

Pure relief and blissful ecstasy bursts across Charles’ face at your answer. With hands trembling just as badly as yours, he eases the glittering ring out of the box and onto your finger where it nestles perfectly, the diamond catching the dappled sunlight.

Before you can even look at it properly, Charles is on his feet again, pulling you into his embrace and spinning you around in a deliriously happy circle. You cling to him, laughing and crying at the same time as he peppers every inch of your face with kisses — your forehead, your cheeks, the tip of your nose.

Finally, inevitably, his mouth finds yours in a long, deep, loving kiss that has your knees feeling weak. You get lost in the warmth of his arms around you, the gentleness of his hands cradling your face, the tenderness of his soft lips moving reverently against yours.

When you finally part, you’re both smiling so much it almost hurts, foreheads pressed together as you share the same breath. Charles brushes away a few stray tears on your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

“I love you so much, mon cœur,” he murmurs softly. You mouth the words back to him before stealing another lingering kiss.

Hand-in-hand once more, Charles leads you out of the botanical gardens and across the street. You come to a stop in front of a quaint yet sizable storefront, the windows covered in brown paper and a faded For Lease sign still hanging crookedly in the door.

“Here it is,” Charles says, gesturing up at the building with undisguised pride. “What do you think?”

You take it in slowly, trying to envision what the space might look like once renovated and filled with cozy seating and the alluring scents of freshly-made gelato.

You picture the two of you working side-by-side behind the counter when Charles doesn’t have a race, laughing and bantering as you serve up delicious treats for smiling customers.

It’s such an endearingly normal, domestic dream compared to the fast-paced frenzy of the Formula 1 lifestyle. But standing here with your new fiancé, it feels absolutely perfect.

“I think … I think it’s going to be incredible,” you lean into Charles’ side and wrap your arms around his trim waist. He responds by kissing your temple and pulling you closer.

“Just think,” he says happily, his warm breath ruffling your hair. “We’ll be the owners of the best little gelateria in all of Milano.

“Sounds like heaven,” you smile. “Just be sure to make plenty of hazelnut and tiramisu for me.”

“Done and done,” he promises solemnly. “Though you know vanilla will always be number one in my book.”

“Oh really?” You arch an eyebrow challengingly. “Is that so?”

Without warning, you loop your arms around Charles’ neck and pull him in for a long, lingering kiss. You can feel him melting into your embrace, his arms snaking securely around your waist.

When you finally manage to pull apart again, you’re both slightly flushed and out of breath. Charles’ usually perfectly tousled hair is charmingly mussed from running your fingers through it. He looks at you with such naked affection and desire that your heart flutters.

“You know what?” He murmurs huskily, resting his forehead against yours. “I take it back. You’re definitely my favorite flavor. And I can’t wait to start this next chapter with you, mon amour.”

And with that promise lingering sweetly between you, Charles takes your face in his hands and kisses you deeply once more, pouring every ounce of his devotion into the embrace.

You can taste forever on his lips.

When you finally part, grinning giddily at each other, Charles takes your hand and leads you back towards your next adventure. Whatever lies ahead, you know you’ll take it on fearlessly and joyously, side-by-side with the man you love more than anything in this world.

***

The reception hall is a whirlwind of joy and celebration as you take in the scene, your heart overflowing with love and happiness. The elegant decorations, the twinkling lights, and the smiling faces of your loved ones surrounding you all blur together in a beautiful haze.

You can scarcely believe this day has finally arrived — the day you’ve dreamed of for so long.

You turn to Charles, his warm green eyes sparkling with so much love, and your breath catches in your throat. He looks devastatingly handsome in his perfectly tailored tuxedo, his million-watt smile making your knees go weak.

This incredible man is now your husband.

“Hey you,” he murmurs, taking your hand and brushing his lips across your knuckles. “Having fun, mon amour?”

A joyful laugh escapes your lips as you nod enthusiastically. “More than I ever thought possible. I’m just … I’m so happy, Charles. I can’t believe we’re actually married!”

He chuckles, that rich laugh that never fails to make you melt. “Believe it, Mrs. Leclerc. You’re stuck with me forever now.” His expression softens as he cups your cheek tenderly. “I love you so much. I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

You lean into his touch, savoring the moment. “I love you too, Mr. Leclerc. More than anything.”

A throat clears behind you, and you whirl around to see Arthur, your new brother-in-law, grinning mischievously.

“If you two lovebirds are done making everyone else nauseous, it’s time to cut the cake!” He teases, jerking his head towards the lavish gelato cake that sits on the dessert table.

Charles throws his head back with a laugh. “You’re just jealous that you don’t have someone as amazing as my wife to make gooey eyes at.”

Arthur rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Whatever. Get your butts over there before I eat the whole thing myself.”

With a wink at you, Charles takes your hand and leads you towards the dessert table, the crowd of guests parting like the Red Sea to let you through. Your heart does a little flip as the magnificent gelato cake comes into view — a towering masterpiece of creamy gelato in vanilla, hazelnut, and tiramisu, all artfully swirled together and decorated with fresh fruit and chocolate shavings.

“It’s perfect,” you whisper in awe, giving Charles’ hand a squeeze.

He pulls you into his side with a content smile. “Not as perfect as you.”

The crowd applauds as you approach the cake, and a chorus of cheers and wolf whistles rises up. Straightening your shoulders with a grin, you pick up the gleaming cake knife and lock eyes with Charles, suddenly feeling bold.

“Ready to do this, husband?” You ask with a teasing lilt.

His eyes blaze with undisguised desire. “More than ready, wife.”

Together, you slice into the towering gelato cake, the creamy filling oozing out and already making your mouth water. Once you have a generous slice on a plate, you scoop up a spoonful and lock eyes with Charles again, arching an eyebrow in challenge.

His pupils dilate as he catches your meaning, a low growl rumbling in his throat. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, mon cœur.”

“Who says I can’t finish it?” You take a step closer, holding the spoonful of gelato up temptingly.

Charles tips his head back with a groan. “You’re killing me here.”

“Good thing you have me to bring you back to life then,” you quip, pressing the spoon to his lips.

He opens obediently, letting you slide the gelato into his mouth with agonizing slowness. His eyelids flutter shut as the flavors explode over his tongue, and he actually moans — deep and guttural and utterly sinful.

A choked sound comes from somewhere in the crowd. “Oh please, get a room!” Joris, Charles’ best friend and best man, calls out with a mixture of amusement and mortification.

Charles doesn’t even open his eyes, simply raising one middle finger in Joris’ direction as he savors the last of the gelato. When his tongue finally darts out to catch a stray bit on his lips, you feel an unexpected flare of heat low in your belly.

Okay, two can play at this game.

Deliberately holding Charles’ heated gaze, you dip your finger into the gelato drippings on the plate and slowly, so slowly, bring it up to your lips. You let the very tip of your tongue dart out to catch the sticky sweetness, swirling it around luxuriously. His Adam’s apple bobs as he watches you, jaw tense.

That’s it.

You slip your finger into your mouth fully, hollowing out your cheeks as you suck the gelato off with an utterly obscene sound. Charles’ knees actually buckle, and he grips the table behind him for support, pupils blown wide.

“You are so dead,” he growls under his breath, low and dangerous.

Unable to stop yourself, you let out a breathy giggle, drunk with a dizzying cocktail of desire and sheer bliss. Charles takes a half step closer, his eyes burning into yours. You quickly scoop up another fingerful of gelato, desperate to keep pushing those buttons and draw out that delicious intensity.

But before you can bring it to your lips, quick as a flash, Charles is on you. He drags you flush against his solid form, his free hand cupping the back of your neck to angle your mouth up to his. The scorching kiss steals the breath from your lungs, leaving you dizzy and clinging to his lapels for purchase.

When he finally breaks away, his eyes are blazing with unconcealed want.

“You missed a spot,” he rasps.

Then he’s ducking his head, and with one torturously slow lick, he clears the stray bit of gelato from the tip of your nose. The heat of his tongue on your overly sensitive skin makes you whimper.

The catcalls and whistles from your guests fade into white noise as you melt against your husband, lost in the endless depths of his hungry gaze. Screw being appropriate — you’ll give them all a show to remember if you have to.

“Fuck, I love you,” Charles rumbles, his voice low and rough with barely restrained desire.

Before you can respond, he’s kissing you again — deep and thorough and all-consuming. You sigh into his mouth, bunching the fine material of his tuxedo jacket in your fists to pull him even closer. His hand slides from your neck into your hair, cradling your head reverently as he pours every ounce of his love and passion into the kiss.

An eternity later, he breaks away with a ragged breath, resting his forehead against yours. “I think it’s time to get out of here, don’t you?”

You can only nod breathlessly, already imagining the deliciously wicked things he has in store. As if in a trance, you allow him to take your hand and lead you towards the exit, shouting and wolf whistles following in your wake.

Just before you slip out of the hall, you hear Pierre Gasly’s teasing voice behind you.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, you two!”

Charles pauses only long enough to call over his shoulder, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“But there’s nothing you wouldn’t do!”

Then he’s sweeping you into his arms with a playful growl, carrying you into your new life together as man and wife. Peals of laughter and cheers chase you down the hall, but you only have eyes for each other in this perfect moment.

You’re married to the love of your life. You have forever with this incredible man. And if the wedding is anything to go by, forever is going to be deliciously amazing.

Literally.

886 notes · View notes

badasbebi · 3 months

Text

not my fault ➛ 1/2

part two

✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader

✦ summary: discovering that a cute girl you saw at your college orientation is your roommate, you become eager to get to know her. however, things quickly go awry when she turns out to be much more difficult to get along with than you could've imagined and abruptly leaves you in the dust. fueled by your terrible experiences with her and rumors about her dating habits, you swear to stay away from her at all costs. will you be able to keep your promise?

✦ genre/au: fluff, my poor attempt at a rom-com, college!au, enemies to lovers, eventual smut, (very slight) roommates to lovers

✦ word count: 11k (im so embarrassed)

✦ warnings: isn't proofread bc this is toooo long. unrealistic portrayal of room-switching in college bc it's never that easy or quick irl. smut in part 2

✦ a/n: part 2 is already finished & will be posted very very soon. so, this is my first time writing a fanfic in like...years. this feels very strange, but i had a lot of fun writing it and i hope someone out there has a lot of fun reading it! also, although this fic doesn't really have anything to do with the lyrics, this song was somewhat inspired by not my fault by renee rapp and megan thee stallion. <3.

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It was the first day of orientation at Seoul University, and you were utterly bored.

You were sitting on a bench outside of the campus auditorium, people-watching as you waited for the opening ceremony to start. It was a hot day with the sun beating down on everyone, prompting an array of glistening foreheads and crinkling water bottles. There was a line of cars in front of you, people getting out with eager smiles and a mischievous glint in their eyes as they stepped onto the concrete, admiring what would be their home for the next four or more years. Your ears were filled with the excited chatter of hundreds of people, meeting new friends and catching up with old ones.

You sat there, the sun warming your skin, looking for something or someone interesting while you waited for orientation to begin.

You watched as a pairing, presumably mother and daughter, pulled up in a sleek car. They got out, and the mother began taking pictures of the daughter. The daughter looked around the campus with a wide grin on her face.

You looked away, taking a sip from your hydroflask. A boy wearing a shirt with your school's mascot. Boring. A congregation of girls who were so obviously here for sorority life, you almost laughed.

A tall, dark-haired woman, with blue highlights, bangs, and thick, black-rimmed glasses, surrounded by a group of people.

You raised an eyebrow. That was interesting.

There were people crowded around her. Guys. Girls. Some, you presumed, were family. They all seemed to have their eyes on her.

You wondered why. As she talked, you studied her.

Her lips were moving, her facial expressions soft and open. Her voice was quiet, though, and you couldn't hear her words. She was pretty, extremely pretty, with luscious lips and a full nose. You liked her eyes the best. They were dark brown, but when the light caught them, they shined.

She had a smile on her face, her head tilted, her hair cascading over her shoulders. It looked like a scene from a movie, her standing there, the wind blowing through her hair, the sun shining on her features.

She was laughing now, at something one of the guys had said. It was nice to watch. It made you feel warm. You smiled.

And then the girl looked at you.

You looked away, trying to pretend like you were not staring. But after a few moments, you stole a glance back. Her eyes were on you, her brow furrowed, a look of confusion on her face.

You blushed, feeling embarrassed. You looked down, staring at your nails.

“Holy shit it’s hot out here. If I pass out, I’m suing the school for child endangerment, because it is absolutely insane that we're still out here. Take your stupid water”

You looked up. Your friend, Lusher, was standing there, her hair frizzy, her makeup done, outstretching her hand to offer you the water bottle you told her to fetch, and dramatically holding her other hand to her forehead.

You laughed, grabbing the water bottle. “Thanks, but I don’t think you can sue them for child endangerment if you’re not a minor, Lush.”

“I may not be a minor, but there are definitely some here. I’m just advocating for them! We need to make sure that children have a voice.”

You laughed, uncapping the bottle and taking a drink.

Lusher plopped down next to you. She looked around, scanning the place as you did. The attractive girl you were previously admiring was still standing there, laughing and chatting with others, people flocking to her like a moth to a flame. So, you did the only logical thing that a woman would do in your position—gossip to your friend about it. You tapped your friend on your shoulder repeatedly. She looked at you, an eyebrow raised.

You nod your head in the direction of the girl, and her eyes follow. You could practically see her mind whirring.

"Well, hello there. Who is that?" Lusher said, wiggling her eyebrow, a smirk on her lips.

"I don't know!" you said, throwing your arms out. "That's what I was gonna ask you."

"Not you already having a crush. It's not even our first day, yet, y/n," Lusher teased.

"Oh shut up," you groaned.

Lusher squinted. "She does actually look a little familiar."

You shifted toward her, excited. "Really? How?"

"Like I've seen her around campus before or something. Or maybe Instagram? I'm not sure."

You nodded, watching as the girl said something, and the group around her laughed. Lusher glanced at you, observing your staring, and laughed.

"What are you even doing you stalker? Go talk to her!" she insisted, nudging your shoulder.

"What!? No. No. Absolutely not. Not happening," you exclaimed, shaking your head and holding your hands up.

"Why not?" Lusher whines.

"Because there are 5,000 people surrounding her, Lush," you said, vaguely pointing at the group of people around her. "I'm not about to compete with that. No, thank you. I'll pass."

"Y/N," she groaned.

"Lusher," you replied, mocking her tone.

She huffed, rolling her eyes. You laughed.

"You're ridiculous," Lusher said.

"Thank you," you responded, a satisfied grin on your face.

You took a final sip of your water and then closed the cap. "Come on. It's almost time to go in."

You grabbed your friend's arm, pulling her up. She grumbled, and you chuckled, walking her toward the auditorium. As you walked away, you felt the gaze of a pair of shiny eyes following you.

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Your mother groans, dropping the last box into the tiny bedroom. "That's the last one. My back is officially fucked."

"Mom, please stop swearing," you say, cringing.

"You swear all the time," she retorts.

"And where do I get that from?" you shoot back.

"You're my child. I can swear in front of you," she responds, ignoring your comment.

"Uh, no. You can't. You're old," you say, picking up one of the boxes and ripping the tape off.

"I prefer the term 'mature'," your mother corrects.

"What about 'ancient?'" you ask, faking seriousness.

She rolls her eyes, grabbing one of your shirts and throwing it at you. You giggle, ducking to the side and letting it fall on the floor. She laughs, and you laugh too, and then you're both giggling uncontrollably. When you're laughing fit is over, you begin taking things out of another box.

The two of you spend the next few hours unpacking and organizing. You are not surprised when your mother decides that she likes her decorating ideas better, and rearranges everything. Finally, the two of you finish, and you step back, admiring the room. Your mom puts her arm around your shoulder.

"I think it looks good. What about you?"

You nod, smiling. "It does."

She sighs, leaning into you, and you wrap your arm around her waist.

"Are you hungry?" she asks, squeezing you tighter.

"Yeah. Starving."

"Good. Because I have some-"

The sound of your door opening cuts her off. You both turn around, and your heart leaps in your throat. Standing in the doorway is the pretty girl from the first day of orientation, wearing cargo pants and a hoodie.

You're too stunned to speak. She's staring at you, and you're staring back. Neither of you says a word.

After what feels like a long time, your mother speaks, her voice filled with curiosity. "Hello? Can we help you?"

The girl's eyes snap to your mother, her eyebrows raising slightly.

"Oh. Uh...hi. I'm sorry. I'm Bada. Your new roommate," the girl, Bada, says, her voice soft and smooth.

"Oh, yes. You are," your mom responds, a wide grin on her face. She extends her arm. "Hi, Bada. I'm Y/N's mom. Nice to meet you."

Bada's eyes widen, and she gives you an almost nervous smile, her gaze flickering between you and your mom. She reaches her hand out and takes your mother's. "Nice to meet you, too, ma'am."

Your mother laughs. "No need to call me ma'am, dear. Please, call me by my name. And please, come in."

Bada hesitates, her gaze shifting to you, as if she's asking for permission. You smile softly, nodding your head, and she returns the gesture, entering the room.

"So, you're Y/N's new roommate. Tell me about yourself," your mother prompts, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall.

Bada's eyes flick back to you, her smile turning awkward. "Um, well, I'm from Incheon, and I'm a freshman. I'm majoring in dance," Bada says, her words sounding rehearsed.

Your mother nods. "Cool. Dance, huh? Do you perform?"

"Oh, um, yeah," Bada shuffles her feet a bit. "Sometimes. I was on the dance team back at my high school."

"Very cool. How's move-in day so far?"

"Good. Yours?"

"Great," your mother responds.

Bada's gaze turns back to you, and you shift, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Your mother seems not to notice, or she does not care.

"Are you here with your parents?" your mother asks.

"Uh, no. Just my mom and sister," Bada responds.

"I see. Where are they?"

"Getting dinner," Bada replies, her voice still soft.

"Ah," your mother says. She glances between the two of you, a knowing look in her eyes. "Well, I suppose I'll leave you two to get to know each other. It was nice meeting you, Bada."

"You too, Mrs. Y/L/N."

"Please, dear, call me by my first name," your mother responds, reaching out and touching Bada's shoulder.

Bada smiles, and then your mother exits the room, leaving the two of you alone.

"Nice meeting you," Bada says, her tone polite.

"Nice meeting you too, Bada," you reply.

A moment passes. The tension is palpable. You can tell she's unsure of what to do, or say.

"Do you, uh, need help bringing your stuff in?" you ask, breaking the silence.

"Oh, no. I'm fine," she responds.

"Okay," you reply.

More silence. Bada is still looking at you, her expression guarded. You clear your throat, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly.

"Is, um, this okay? Am I, uh, being a nuisance or anything?" you ask, choosing to stare at the wall behind her.

"Huh?"

"I mean, I can leave if I'm making you uncomfortable or anything. I don't want to be a bother," you say, shuffling your feet.

"No. No. Not at all," she replies, shaking her head.

"Oh, okay. Good," you respond, smiling.

She does not return the gesture. Her eyes are still on you, and her body is tense. You wonder if she's afraid of you, or something.

"So," you begin, clasping your hands together. "I guess I'll show you to your side of the room, then."

"Oh, um, okay," she replies, her voice still quiet.

"Here. Let me help you with that," you offer, stepping forward and grabbing one of her suitcases.

"No thank you. I've got it," she says, pulling the bag back.

"Okay. Whatever makes you comfortable," you say, letting go.

She drags the suitcase across the floor and sets it on the empty bed.

"I hope you don't mind. I didn't really get much choice in the furniture department. You're lucky you got the bigger bed," you say, laughing nervously.

"No, it's okay. Thank you," she replies, a tight smile on her lips.

"No problem," you respond, rocking back and forth on your heels.

Another moment of awkward silence passes. Bada begins unzipping the suitcase, taking out folded clothes and laying them on her bed.

"Can I, uh, get you anything? Like, some water or snacks or something?"

"No thank you. That's very kind, though," she says, her back turned to you.

"Okay. Cool. If you need anything, let me know. I'm always here," you respond, smiling.

"I'll keep that in mind," she replies, not looking at you.

"Well, okay. I'll just...leave you to it, then," you say, and then turn around and go sit at your desk, deciding not to push her.

You pull your laptop out, placing it on the desk, and log onto the college's wifi. You lean back in your chair, alternating between reading your syllabi and watching as she unloads her belongings. She has a lot of things. Clothes, books, shoes, accessories, makeup. She even has a large speaker system, which is surprising, considering the small dorm.

After a while, Bada stops, having finally finished unpacking. She stretches her arms above her head, revealing a tiny sliver of her stomach and the waistband of her boxers. Your cheeks burn, and you quickly look away.

"Hey, y/n?"

"Hm?" you ask, spinning around.

"Do you know where the bathroom is?" she asks.

"Oh, yeah. It's just down the hall," you reply, pointing to the door.

"Okay. Thank you," she says, standing up and leaving the room.

You sigh, and then get up, going over and plopping down on your bed. You could not get a read on this woman. When you saw her at orientation, she seemed so open, so friendly, so charismatic. But, right now, it was like you were talking to a wall. You couldn't help but feel a bit peeved. You wanted her to at least like you a little bit, or even tolerate you, but she was barely willing to even talk to you.

You shake your head, clearing your thoughts. Maybe she was just tired, or had a bad day. That's probably it. That had to be it. Which, is fine. You were her roommate. You had a year to become friends. You'd be fine.

You pull out your phone, deciding to scroll through social media. After a few minutes, Bada returns and sits on her bed.

"Did you find it?" you ask, not looking up.

"Yep," she replies.

"That's good," you start, sitting up and scooting toward the edge of your bed. "Hey, I was thinking, since we're gonna be roommates and all, we should get to know each other, ya know?"

Bada turns, a blank expression on her face.

"So, dance," you continue. "What's that like?"

Bada's face changes, the guarded look falling away, replaced with an excited smile. "Dancing? Oh, it's wonderful. I've loved dancing for as long as I can remember," Bada gushes, her eyes lighting up. "I've been doing it my whole life. My mom and sister dance, too, actually."

You grin, her excitement contagious. "That's great. How many of you are dancers?"

"Just the three of us. Me, my mom, and my sister. Well, actually, my mom is retired now, and she's teaching classes at the studio," Bada continues, her smile growing wider.

"That's amazing," you respond, leaning forward. "Do you all perform together?"

"All the time. My mom owns a studio, and she teaches there. We teach classes and choreograph, and then, when we have enough students, we'll have shows," Bada answers, her voice becoming softer, and less animated.

"That sounds really cool. Do you, like, teach little kids and stuff?"

"Oh, no. Not really. I mean, we do, but only if a student's parents ask. Our main audience is teens, and adults," she explains.

"Wow," you say, nodding. "That's awesome. I can't imagine what that's like."

"It's a lot of fun," Bada replies, her eyes sparkling.

"What about your dad? Is he a dancer, too?"

"My father's not in the picture," Bada says, her eyes dimming a bit.

"Oh, uh, I'm sorry," you mumble, suddenly feeling awkward.

"It's alright," Bada responds, her tone flat.

"Well, anyway, that's cool," you say, changing the subject. "What's the studio like?"

"It's really nice. We have a small space, but it's cozy," she says, her eyes regaining some of their previous luster. "We've got a lot of mirrors and equipment, and the lights are low."

"Really? God, what you do sounds so cool."

"You think so?" Bada asks, her eyebrows raised.

"Totally. I'm kinda jealous," you admit.

"Thanks. It's nice to hear someone say that," she replies, grinning.

"Anytime," you say, returning the gesture.

The two of you lapse into a comfortable silence, and you lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

Suddenly, your phone pings, and you glance at the screen. It's a text message from Lusher.

Lush: hey u ready for ur first college party???

Y/N: no lol i'm exhausted from setting up.

Lush: oh come on. im trying to meet some cute guys here. dont make me go alone

Y/N: haha i'm gonna stay in tonight. maybe tomorrow or next weekend

Lush: boo. well, the invitation is always open. if u change ur mind, come find me.

Y/N: ok will do. ttyl

"Is that your mom?" Bada asks, interrupting your thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Your phone," she clarifies, motioning to the device in your hand.

"Oh, no, just a friend from high school, Lusher. She goes here," you explain, sliding your phone onto your bedside table. "She was trying to invite me to a party to scout out the scene for boys."

"Ah," Bada replies, turning her attention back to her side of the room.

"But there's no way I'm going tonight. I'm way too tired after all of that packing," you continue, lying down.

"Understandable," Bada replies, not looking at you.

"So, I'm pretty hungry? Wanna go to the dining hall and get some food, or something?" you ask.

"No thank you. I think I'm just going to take a nap," she says, scooting under her covers and turning her body toward the wall.

"Oh, okay. Alright," you say, feeling a bit disappointed.

It seems like you are back to square one. You sigh, and then turn around, facing the wall. This was going to be a long year. You reach for your headphones, plugging them into your phone, and put on a playlist, trying to ignore the slight ache in your chest. You were not sure why, but, for some reason, it hurt. You shake your head, pushing the feeling down. No, you were not upset. You were not going to be upset. Everything was going to be fine with time. You stand up, grabbing your backpack, and then exit the room, closing the door quietly behind you. The least you could do was give her some privacy. Maybe she needed some time to adjust to sharing a room with someone.

You enter the elevator, pressing the button for the ground floor, and try to clear your head. No. Things would get better. She would warm up. You just needed to be patient. The elevator dings, and the doors open, and you step out, walking toward the cafeteria. You just needed to wait. She would come around. You were sure of it.

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Your alarm blares loudly. You groan, rolling over and snoozing it. The sun is barely up. You feel like a zombie.

You reach over and grab your phone. 7:30 am. Time for a run.

You slowly slide out of bed, wincing at the cold floor. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you glance around the room. It looks exactly the same, except for the fact that your roommate is gone.

You yawn, stretching, and then walk over to her bed. The sheets are perfectly tucked, the pillows arranged neatly, and the blanket is smoothed out. She must have made her bed before leaving. You frown.

"I wonder what time she wakes up," you murmur, running a hand over the blanket.

You throw on some clothes, put your earbuds in, and stretch, before leaving the room.

As you walk through the hallway, your thoughts are still hazy with sleep. You have never been a morning person. But, running helps.

You take the elevator down to the lobby, and then exit the building, jogging onto the sidewalk. A cool breeze whips your hair around. You shiver, pulling the drawstrings of your hoodie tight. After a few minutes, you find a nice rhythm, your breathing steadying, the music calming your nerves. You pass the same few people, most of them in a similar state as you. Groggy. Disheveled. Exhausted. After 30 minutes, you start feeling warm. Your heart is pounding, and your chest is heaving. You slow to a walk, and then stop, resting against a tree.

You close your eyes and listen to the birds, the leaves, the wind. It's nice. Calming.

"Y/n?" a familiar voice asks.

Your eyes snap open, and you turn. A woman is standing there, a shocked look on her face.

Oh no, you think, once you realize who it is."Aiki?"

"Woah, I knew it was you," Aiki says, her eyes wide.

"Yeah," you chuckle awkwardly, scratching the back of your neck.

"What are you doing here?" Aiki asks, her mouth hanging open.

"I go here now. I'm a student. I have clases here," you overexplain

"Wow, okay," Aiki says, taking a breath. "So, how have you been? What are you studying? What's been going on with you? God, y/n, it's been forever."

"Yeah, it has. Um, I've been good. Just, ya know, moving and stuff so far. Haven't declared a major yet, though," you respond, feeling taken aback by her excitement.

"I see. Well, I actually have to go, but we should totally hang out. Maybe have coffee sometime, or something. Catch up," Aiki suggests, her eyes sparkling.

"Sure, yeah, that sounds great," you say, nodding.

"Cool, well, I'll see you around," Aiki says, a smirk on her face.

"See ya," you reply, waving as she turns and jogs off.

You stare after her, a strange feeling in your stomach. You had not seen Aiki since junior year of high school, when the two of you were forced to go on a trip with the rest of your class. During that week, the two of you became close, and, by the end, you were basically inseparable. The two of you spent the entire week attached at the hip, going sightseeing, exploring, and, on the last night, you even kissed her. It was a perfect week. And then, after the trip was over, you never spoke again. She transferred schools, and the two of you lost contact. And now, here she is, back in your life.

You shake your head, chuckling softly. It is almost too much. First, your hot roommate, and now, Aiki. The universe is messing with you.

You start walking again, continuing your route. You run for another hour, the sun now fully risen. Your skin is glowing with sweat, and you can't help but smile. You are feeling great.

You stop by the showers, washing up, and then head to the cafeteria. The line is long, and, despite the early hour, it is packed. You grab a tray, loading it with eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, and a glass of orange juice.

"Oh my god, save some for the rest of us," a voice exclaims from behind you.

You turn, startled, finding Lusher behind you, grinning.

"Jesus, Lush, you scared me," you say, shaking your head.

"Sorry, didn't mean to, but seriously, I'm starving. Move faster," she complains, her eyes falling to your full plate.

"What are you even doing here so early? It's Saturday. You're never up at this time," you question, raising an eyebrow.

"The beds here suck. Couldn't stay asleep."

"So, you just came here?"

"Duh. They have free breakfast," she responds, her eyes wide.

"Right," you reply, not convinced.

"I'm serious. Besides, it's not like there's anything else to do this early on a Saturday," she adds.

"Okay, whatever," you say, rolling your eyes.

"So, how was the rest of the move-in? Is your roomate cool?" Lusher questions.

"Actually," you begin. "You'd never guess who my roommate is."

"Who?" she prompts.

"The hot girl I saw at orientation."

"No. Shut. Up," she responds, her eyes widening.

"I'm not kidding. Her name is Bada. She's a dance major."

"Holy shit, no wonder she looked familiar when I saw her. I think I've seen her around dance competitions and showcases."

"You have?"

"Yeah, a few times. She's really good. Damn," Lusher says, shaking her head.

"Well, I wish she'd open up more," you say, frowning.

"Why? Is she mean or something?"

"No, I mean, I'm not sure. She's kind of quiet. I'm not really sure how to describe it. She's not super friendly or anything, and we haven't talked a lot," you respond.

"Hmm, that's weird. I have a few dance friends who've interacted with her before. From what I've been told she's super nice."

"I guess. Anyway, she's not really interested in being my friend, which is fine. But, it's weird, 'cause it seems like she's super popular. She knows a ton of people. I don't get why she's so weird around me."

"Maybe she's nervous or something. I mean, you're kinda cute, after all."

"Shut up, no, I'm not," you deny, rolling your eyes.

"Whatever you say, y/n," Lusher smirks.

"You're crazy," you mutter, grabbing a juice box.

"Well, I hope you can change her mind. She's definitely cute."

"Thanks, Lush," you respond, not really meaning it.

The two of you grab seats near the windows. The food is mediocre, but your stomach is full and that's all that matters. You spend the next few hours chatting with Lusher about school, classes, and other things. Deciding you've had enough of the dining hall, you take Lusher to your dorm room, wanting to show her what your side of the room looks like. However, as soon as you open the door, you are met with the sight of Bada's side of the room-empty side of the room. Her bed is still perfectly made, and her closet is shut tight, and the desk is cleared off. Her things are gone, as if she was never there.

"What the hell?" you mutter, your eyes darting around the room.

"What's going on?" Lusher says, peering over your shoulder from the hallway.

"My roommate," you start.

"Bada, right?"

"Yeah. All her stuff is gone. Did she transfer or something?"

"Wait, what? Let me see," Lusher says, squeezing into the room and past you.

She scans the room, her eyebrows furrowed. "Are you sure you weren't hallucinating her? Or having a strange wet dream?"

"Shut up. I'm serious. Look. Her bed is still made, and her side of the closet is completely empty," you insist, pointing.

"Well, maybe she's at class or something. Are you sure she's not just hanging out somewhere?"

"Why would she be? Class doesn't start for a couple days. And why would all of her stuff be gone?"

"Maybe she's one of those crazy studious types who starts early. And she has a very meticulous study routine that requires her room to be completely rid of stuff." Lusher suggests, shrugging.

"Who in the world would do all of that?"

"Someone who's organized. Maybe a person with OCD? A really anal-retentive neat freak?"

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

"Hey, you asked," Lusher says, throwing her hands up in defense.

You're about to curse at her, when your phone vibrates. It's a text from the college housing office.

"What is it?" Lusher asks.

"It's from the housing office. They want to see me about a roommate complaint," you read aloud, frowning.

"Roomate complaint? That's weird. Why would they call you instead of her?"

"Maybe they're not able to get a hold of her. I don't know. I'm not sure," you say, scrolling through the message.

"Well, whatever, go find out. We can talk more later."

"You're not coming?"

"No, I'm tired. Gotta catch some Z's. Go figure this out."

"Fine. I'll talk to you later, then."

"Later, loser," she responds, before walking away.

You sigh and exit the building, beginning your walk to the housing office.

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"Hello? Anyone here?" you call, stepping inside.

"Ah, hello," a voice responds.

A man walks up, an overly friendly smile on his face. He extends his hand, initiating a handshake.

"Hi. I'm y/n," you start, shaking his hand. "I received a message saying you wanted to talk to me about a roommate complaint?"

He nods. "Yes, yes, of course. Please, follow me."

He gestures to a door, and you follow him into a small office. He motions for you to sit down, and you do, the chair squeaking loudly.

"Now, let's see," he begins, studying a piece of paper. "You're living in the new dorms, correct?"

"Yup," you confirm. "The one with the fancy bathrooms."

"Right, yes. So, your roommate is a Ms. Bada Lee?"

"Yes, that's her."

He sighs, letting the paper fall onto his desk. Clasping his hands together, he asks, "And, is there a problem between the two of you?"

You shift in your seat, suddenly uncomfortable."I mean, not really. I haven't seen her since Friday morning. Why do you ask?"

The man clears his throat. "We received a notice from her this morning, stating that she no longer wanted to reside in her dorm with you. She requested a room transfer and had all her things moved out into another room."

Your heart sank. This had to be a joke

"I'm sorry, but...what? Why? Why would she do that? I barely know her," you protest, shaking your head.

"Unfortunately, the decision has already been made, and the paperwork has been processed," the man replies, a sympathetic look on his face.

"But, this doesn't make any sense," you insist, leaning forward in your seat. "I haven't done anything wrong."

"I'm afraid the reasons are confidential, as is standard practice. All I can tell you is that the decision was made by the student, and we must abide by it."

You fall back in your chair, scowling. "This isn't right."

"I apologize, Ms. y/n, but there's nothing we can do. I'll inform the RA's and staff to expect you for a new room assignment. You likely won't get a new roommate until next semester, though. Otherwise, we're done here. "

"Alright, thank you," you mutter, standing up and heading to the door.

"Thank you for your cooperation," he calls.

You slam the door and storm off, furious. This is complete bullshit. What could you have done yesterday that was so bad that Bada would request a room change and make a complaint?

As you walk back to the dorm, a thousand thoughts race through your head. Were you too loud the first night? Too pushy? Did you say something offensive or insult her?

You rack your brain, trying to remember if you said or did anything wrong, but nothing comes to mind. There was the one moment when you asked about her father, and she seemed a bit upset, but was that really it? Surely she couldn't have built resentment for you after that one, small slip-up. You even apologized to her.

Maybe she just thought you were annoying? You're as confused as ever, and, pissed off. Whatever the issue was, there was no way it was significant enough for her to go directly to the housing office. She could have spoken to you about it, and you could have worked something out but didn't give you the chance. From the moment you met her, she didn't give you a chance. And now you probably have some sort of criminal-esque record with the housing office because of it. Great.

When you arrive back at the dorm, you go straight to your bed, laying down and burying your face into the pillows.

"God damnit," you mumble, your frustration overwhelming.

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The rest of the day was relatively uneventful, with you alternating between fuming, moping, and ranting to Lusher about the incident with Bada. The more you thought about it, the more irritated you felt. Why did such a sexy person have to suck so bad?

Despite the annoyance, you decided not to focus on the issue, opting instead to hang out with Lusher and your other friends. By Sunday night, however, your emotions had shifted back to sadness, and you were once again moping about the incident.

Before you knew it, it was Monday morning, and time for classes. You were excited, yet anxious, about the beginning of the school year. Despite the rocky start, you were determined to make the most of it.

Currently, you're in your last class of the day, bored out of your mind. You're supposed to be taking notes, but your professor lost your attention halfway through the lecture. You fix your gaze on the window, where raindrops are running down the glass. It was cloudy and grey outside, and you could see a flash of lightning in the distance.

"And that concludes our lesson. Don't forget to check your emails because I will be sending you a reading assignment. Class dismissed."

The sound of people packing up their things and moving around causes you to snap out of your trance. You quickly gather your own materials and head out the door.

On the way back to the dorm, the sky opens up, and it starts pouring. You pick up the pace, wanting to avoid getting soaked. As you approach the entrance to your building, you slow down, spotting Bada walking toward you. She looks just as unhappy to be out in the rain as you are, her arms wrapped tightly around her torso, her hood hanging over her face.

Uh oh, you think, not expecting to see her.

"Um, hi," you stammer, attempting to appear friendly.

She stops in her tracks, eyeing you cautiously. "Uh, hey," she says, her tone cold.

You cross your arms. "So, um, how's your day been?"

"Fine," she replies curtly.

"Cool," you reply. "Enjoying your new room?"

"It's okay," she says, shrugging.

"That's nice," you respond, not sounding sincere.

An uncomfortable, but at this point, familiar, silence follows. You couldn't believe she wasn't taking this as an opportunity to apologize or explain what happened. If she weren't so tall and admittedly intimidating, you'd do something petty, like snatch the hood off of her head. Or pin her down until she fesses up. Or throw something at her pretty face to remind her that—yes, you are hot, but that doesn't mean you can escape consequences! But you're too gracious and realistic to do any of that, so you take the peaceful (though painful) route.

"Well, I should get inside, I don't want to get too wet," you state.

"Okay, yeah," she replies, giving you a curt nod.

"Uh, have a good day," you say, turning around and heading toward the door.

"Thanks, you too," she calls out.

She walks past you, and you can't help but turn around, watching her retreating figure. "What a weirdo," you mutter under your breath, heading up the stairs.

You hurry into the building, letting out a breath you didn't realize you were holding.

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Three months into the semester, you begin to hear Bada's name everywhere. Apparently, within the short time period, she's taken your school's dance team far and has gained quite a bit of attention for it. You're not surprised, given her athletic build and seemingly graceful demeanor. However, this has come with a price, and now, wherever you go, she seems to be there, her presence almost a constant. Similarly to when you first saw her at orientation, many people flock to her, and you hear a number of girls gossiping about how cool and attractive she is. With that, you begin to hear the rumors.

You've heard a lot of things about Bada, some good and some not-so-good. For example, you've heard that she's an excellent dancer and extremely talented. She's also very outgoing, sweet, and has a large group of friends. On the other hand, it seems as if she's built up a reputation for herself. You've heard people calling her a player and a flirt. Others have claimed that she sleeps with women just for fun, never sticking with anyone for too long.

You aren't sure what to believe, but you do know that your opinion of her is low. You still have no idea why she changed rooms and never gave you a straight answer, despite the numerous attempts you've made. In the beginning, you'd attempt to strike up conversations and casually ask her about it, but she would either ignore you or give you a short, vague response. You eventually stopped asking, knowing it was futile. Even when the two of you pass each other in the hallway, her eyes never meet yours, and you swear you can feel the disdain radiating from her.

But it's impossible to completely ignore her because, again, she is loved by many. To make matters worse, Lusher joined the dance team. Meaning, every time you visit Lusher during practice, Bada's there. Lusher tells you that she's a great teammate, but you aren't so sure. After all, you've only spoken a handful of words to her, and they haven't been particularly welcoming.

It's one of those days when you find yourself sitting on the bleachers, observing the dance team. You've come to watch Lusher, and you have to admit, the other dancers are amazing. However, your eyes always drift back to Bada. As much as you try to stop it, you can't help it. She's just so...stunning. She's wearing a tank top, showing off her arms, and baggy pants. Her hair is tied back in a bun, accentuating her features, and she has a serious, focused expression on her face.

You bite your lip, watching as she moves across the floor, her body flowing with the music. It's like she's gliding, and it's mesmerizing. You've never seen someone dance with such strength and power. You've been a fan of dance for a while, and you've never seen anything like it.

As the song comes to an end, everyone strikes a final pose. You watch Bada, her chest heaving, a thin layer of sweat on her forehead.

You grab your water bottle, suddenly thirsty, and take a drink. You're still staring at her, and she glances in your direction. Shit.

You look away, hoping she didn't notice you watching her.

Lusher unfreezes herself from her ending pose and immediately comes running up to you.

"So, what did you think? Wasn't that awesome?" she asks, excitement evident on her face.

"Yeah, it was great. You guys were incredible," you compliment.

"Aw, thanks," Lusher beams. "You should come to more of our practices. They're a lot of fun."

"Yeah, maybe," you agree, noncommittally.

"Actually, do you mind coming to the locker room with me? I need to change, and we can grab something to eat afterward."

"Yeah, sure," you agree.

Lusher gives you a big hug, causing you to laugh. "Thanks, y/n," she smiles.

You follow her into the locker room, and she changes out of her sweaty clothes. You lean against the wall, tapping away on your phone.

"You can look, y/n, I'm not shy," Lusher teases, her shirt pulled up and bra strap undone.

"I know, but, I don't want to be a pervert," you giggle.

Lusher laughs. "You already are one, and I've accepted that fact a long time ago."

You pick up one of her spare pants, throwing at her.

"Hey!" she cries, feigning annoyance.

You smirk. "Sorry."

She rolls her eyes. "I forgive you."

You glance around the room, taking in your surroundings. You've never been in here before, and it's kind of fascinating.

"Where's the bathroom in here?" you ask.

"Down the hall, to the left," she informs.

"Alright, I'm gonna go pee," you announce.

"Okay," she says, not looking away from her locker.

"Be right back," you call, exiting the room.

You walk down the hall and open the bathroom door, making your way inside. You go to the first stall, shutting the door behind you. You take care of business, and as you're finishing up, you hear the sound of footsteps, and voices, entering the room.

Not paying them much mind, you flush the toilet, standing up and zipping your pants. Until you here something that freezes you in your spot.

"Lusher's friend is pretty cute. Your type," a voice says.

"I guess," another, deeper, voice responds.

"Don't be so indifferent, Bada, she is pretty hot," the first voice chides.

"She's alright," Bada says, nonchalantly.

"Why not? It's not like she'd say no," the first voice presses.

"I'm not really interested, Tatter. She's good-looking but, I'm not attracted to her. At all. Not worth my time." Bada says.

You're stunned.

"Really?" Tatter asks.

"Yes. Really." Bada says, firmly.

You feel a rush of anger. She has every right to not find you attractive, but you can't help feeling insulted. Did she have to be so adamant about it?

"Well, damn," Tatter chuckles.

"Sorry to burst your bubble," Bada shrugs.

"No, it's cool," Tatter assures.

"Let's head out, the others are waiting for us," Bada suggests.

"Yeah, sure," Tatter agrees.

Their voices fade away, and their footsteps become more distant. You step out of the stall, making your way toward the sink. You glance at your reflection in the mirror. You look tired and upset because, well you are.

The more you think about it, the more things start to make sense. No wonder why Bada has been so aloof and unfriendly with you. She didn't find you attractive, and henceforth decided that you weren't 'worth her time.' But what kind of shallow thinking was that? You had plenty of things to offer. Your personality, wit, intelligence, humor, and a bunch of other things. So, what did it matter if she found you physically attractive?

You splash some water on your face, trying to wash away your frustration.

It's settled. You didn't want anything to do with her. She had no right to dismiss you, and, as a result, you didn't have to treat her nicely, either. Two can play that game.

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You managed to go the rest of the school year without interacting with Bada. You saw her in passing and heard her name plenty of times, but you largely succeeded in your efforts to avoid her. For the most part, you didn't even think about her. Except, of course, when you got your new roommate after winter break, who was much friendlier, but ridiculously messy and, to be quite frank, annoying. Although this turn-out was not directly Bada's fault, throughout your 2nd semester you laid awake at night, cursing the tall sexy mean woman, as your roommate blasted Bhad Bhabie songs into the early hours of the morning.

It's a new year now, though. And luckily, you do not have to worry about roommate troubles, because you you've gotten an apartment with Lusher. It's tiny and run-down, but incredibly close to campus, and after the issues you had your first year, you're just grateful that you're rooming with someone you actually get along with.

Knowing that, you're excited to see what your second year will bring you. You walk to your first class of the day, which is, unfortunately, an 8 a.m. English class.

You make it to the classroom, finding an open seat near the middle. You sit down, pulling out a notebook and pen.

As the seats fill, the professor begins his lecture, and the class starts.

However, about ten minutes into class, the door opens, and someone walks in. You look up, and your heart drops.

Bada is standing in the doorway, her expression unreadable.

"So sorry to interrupt. I'm late," she says.

"It's okay, take a seat. We're just starting," the professor replies.

Bada's eyes scan the room, and when she spots you, she frowns. You look away, pretending like you didn't notice.

She continues to stand there, looking uncomfortable, before she decides to walk further into the classroom. The professor stops talking and looks at her.

"Do you have a seat yet?" he asks.

"Uh, not yet," Bada stutters.

"Take a seat anywhere, we're getting started," the professor responds, continuing his lecture.

You hear the sound of footsteps approaching, and when you look back, Bada is walking towards the empty seat next to you. She sits down, dropping her backpack, and your heart races.

"Can I borrow a pen?" she asks, her voice soft.

"Sure," you mumble, handing her a pen.

"Thanks," she mutters, writing something down.

Your heart is beating out of your chest. She's sitting next to you. Why is she sitting next to you? Is she doing this on purpose? Maybe she has some sort of vendetta against you. You're not sure.

You try your best to focus on the professor, but it's difficult. You can't help but stare at Bada, your eyes drifting down her body. You take in her attire. She's wearing a white t-shirt, a pair of baggy jeans, and a cap. Despite the simplicity of it, she looks phenomenal. It makes you want to scream.

As the professor goes on, Bada takes notes, seeming completely invested in the lecture, and you almost scoff. Who was she trying to fool?

Once the lecture ends, you quickly pack up your stuff and rush out of the room, eager to put some distance between the two of you.

"Okay," your professor begins, clapping his hands. "If you look at the syllabus, you'll see that a big portion of your grade in this class is determined by your final project. This is a research-based assignment, and will require extensive library work. I've randomly assigned you partners to help you out, so, if you'd like, feel free to move around and meet your partners once I call out your names."

A group project? Great. Those always went well. Who was the sorry excuse for a partner you were going to—

"Y/n y/l/n and Bada Lee."

Fuck.

You feel sick. What the hell is this?

You look around the room, frantically, hoping to see someone who shares the same name. Alas, no such luck.

You see Bada shift in her seat, turning toward you, and you try your best to conceal your irritation.

"Hi," she says, quietly.

"Hey," you reply, coolly.

"I guess we're partners, huh?" she asks, a small smile on her face.

"Yep, looks like it," you respond.

"I'm, um, sorry for being late today. I had a meeting with a counselor," she explains.

"I'm not the professor, Bada. I don't care."

Bada seems taken aback by your harsh response.

"Right, um, okay."

"So, uh, do you have any ideas for the final project? I've thought of a few things," she continues.

"I haven't given it much thought," you lie, knowing that you'd spent the majority of last night planning and organizing your entire project.

"Oh," she says, disappointed. "That's okay, we can talk about it some more."

"Sure," you shrug, standing up and grabbing your stuff. "I've got to get to my next class, so, I'll see you later."

You quickly pack up your items and rush out of the room, eager to put some distance between the two of you.

"Y/n, wait!"

You freeze.

"Your phone number," Bada says, jogging up behind you.

You turn around, eyeing her cautiously. "What?"

"Your phone number, so we can communicate," she clarifies, her tone a little more stern than it was a few seconds ago.

"Right," you mutter, fishing your phone out of your pocket and giving her your number.

"Awesome, thanks. I'll text you," she smiles, and then, to your surprise, she turns around and walks away.

You watch her leave, still confused. What just happened?

The next few days pass uneventfully, and you've been avoiding Bada like the plague. It's not difficult, given that the two of you only share one class together and remain silent the entire time. Truthfully, you weren't expecting to get anything out of Bada for this project. As soon as the professor called her name, you were resigned to the fact that you'd probably have to carry out this project yourself. Between dance and the apparent trail of girls that Bada has to deal with on a daily basis, there was no way she'd make time for it.

As a result, you were shocked when, after a week had passed you received a text message from an unknown number.

Unknown: hi! it's Bada. do you have a chance to meet up sometime? i have a few ideas for the project and wanted to talk to you about it.

You're not sure how to respond. This is the last thing you expected from her.

"Who are you texting?" Lusher asks, suddenly appearing beside you.

"What?" you ask, locking your phone.

"I was asking if you'd be home later, but you're clearly too busy texting someone to listen," Lusher laughs.

"No, I'm listening," you insist.

"Then, who are you texting?" she presses, curiously.

"No one. Just a girl," you reply.

Lusher wiggles her eyebrows. "I knew it," she giggles.

"Shut up," you laugh, smacking her arm. "It's not like that."

"Whatever you say," she teases, grabbing her jacket and slipping on her shoes.

"Are you leaving?" you ask.

"Yeah, I'm gonna go study with a few people. You coming?"

You shake your head. "No, I think I'm just gonna stay here."

"Alright, I'll see you later then," she says, waving and exiting the apartment.

You sigh, flopping down on the couch and staring up at the ceiling. You're not sure how long you lay there, but the sound of your phone vibrating snaps you out of your daze.

You grab your phone, checking your messages.

Unknown: this is y/n, right?

"Shit," you mutter, realizing that you forgot to respond.

You: Hi, sorry, it is. I got busy. Um, yeah, I have time tomorrow if you're free.

Bada: i'm available after 5 tomorrow. meet me at the library? 3rd floor?

You: Okay, sounds good.

Bada: great! see you then.

"Fuck," you whisper, tossing your phone onto the couch.

This is going to be a horrible year.

The next day, you find yourself walking into the library, coffee in hand. You check your phone, noticing that it's already 5:30 p.m.

"Crap," you whisper, picking up your pace.

You finally make it to the third floor, scanning the room for Bada. To your surprise, you spot her immediately, sitting alone at a table in the corner.

"Sorry, I'm late," you apologize, speed-walking over to her.

"It's okay," she smiles.

You pull out a chair and sit down, feeling awkward.

"So," you begin. "How are you?"

"Good," she says, quietly. She glances at your coffee cup, a frown on her face, before looking down at the items scattered across the table.

You furrow your eyebrows, looking at the array of items in front of you. Bada's textbooks, her backpack, her phone. Two coffee cups.

"Wait," you say, realization hitting you.

"Yeah?" she asks, looking up.

"You bought me a coffee?" you state, the words sounding dumb as they come out of your mouth.

She blinks. "No."

"But, there are two coffee cups," you point out, feeling more and more confused.

"It's fine, you already bought one," she rushes out, sliding one of the coffee cups farther away from you.

"Wait, no! It's okay. I'll take it."

She stops. "Really?"

"Yeah," you nod, reaching out and grabbing the cup. "Thank you."

"Of course," she shrugs, looking embarrassed.

You pick up the cup, analyzing it, wondering if she put any poison in it. Unfortunately, you are not a chemist, and cannot decipher the contents of the beverage, so, you opt for the safer route and place the cup back down on the table.

"Did you have an idea for the project?" she asks.

"I did," you nod.

"What is it?"

"I was thinking that we could write an article. One of the prompts that was on the syllabus is an exposé, and I figured that it'd be easy to do a deep dive into the school's athletic program."

"Huh, that's interesting," she replies, a thoughtful look on her face.

"Interesting, good or interesting, bad?"

"Interesting, good. I like the idea. How far did you want to go into detail with it?"

"Well, I was hoping we could focus on the women's athletic department. Have you heard anything about them?" you ask.

"A lot. I hear my friends complain a lot," she says.

"About what?"

"So much. The coaches are demanding and strict and don't give the players don't get enough breaks. They don't get as much funding as the men's athletic program, either."

Disappointing but not surprising. "Is there a particular sport or athlete that stands out to you?"

"Um," she starts, a slight blush covering her cheeks.

"Yes?"

"I know a couple of basketball players. The captain, Doyeon, is really good, and I talk to her a lot. She'd probably be willing to help us out. They have a big game coming up, and their coach is going crazy because the school isn't giving them as much access to facilities as they did for the men's team. The basketball players were forced to practice outside, and the coaches are furious."

You can't hide your shock at this. Although you knew the women's team had it rough, you didn't realize there was so much drama happening behind the scenes. "Wow, that's...a mess. Did you want to talk to her about it? I'd love to meet her and get her perspective."

"Yes, definitely," she nods. "They should be practicing tomorrow. We can go watch them and interview her after. Would that work?"

"Sounds good," you agree, mentally making a note to cancel your plans tomorrow. You raise your coffee cup to your lips, momentarily forgetting about the possible dangers, and take a sip. The moment the liquid touches your tongue, you are hit with a profusion of tastiness. It's sweet and delicious and everything you could have ever dreamed of. It's exactly the type of drink you'd order yourself. You glance over at Bada, seeing her watching you nervously, and decide to speak up.

"This is really good," you praise, taking another sip.

She smiles. "You like caramel lattes, right?" she asks.

"Um, yes," you respond, confused. "How'd you know that?"

"Just, um, a lucky guess," she replies awkwardly, avoiding eye contact.

You raise an eyebrow at this. Crap, you think. She must've put some sort of poison in here that mimics the taste of your favorite coffee flavor. You're screwed, but it's too late. You might as well enjoy the coffee. You take one last sip, savoring the flavor, then set it down.

"Alright, well, I have some notes I want to go over, if that's alright," you say, pulling out your laptop.

"Okay," she replies, also taking out her laptop.

The two of you spend the next hour discussing the project, both of you getting lost in your own thoughts. By the time you're done, it's nearly eight o'clock, and the sun is setting.

"We should probably head back now," you state, packing up your items.

"Yeah, we should," she agrees, standing up.

The two of you walk out of the library, the campus quiet and dark.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she says, walking toward her car.

"Yep," you reply, waving and heading towards yours.

Once inside, you turn on the car, blasting the air conditioning. You turn on the radio, trying to distract yourself from the heat outside.

"And in other news, the women's basketball team is still having trouble securing proper facilities. According to sources close to the team, the coach is frustrated and the players are exhausted.

"In other sports news, the football team is preparing for its season-opener against their rivals, the..."

You groan, turning off the radio and focusing on the road. Your stomach growls, and you realize that you haven't eaten anything since lunch. You consider stopping somewhere, but decide against it. You'll just eat when you get back to the apartment.

As you drive home, you think about the last few hours you spent with Bada. She was...interesting, to say the least. Today, she seemed more responsive to you than she had previously. In the past, she had mostly ignored you, rarely speaking to you unless necessary. Today, though, she'd been engaging and helpful. Perhaps, it was just because she cared about getting a good grade on this project. Once it's over, she'll probably return to her normal, snide self. That was okay with you, though. As long as she was cooperative while you worked on the project, you couldn't care less what she thinks of you or how she treats you afterward.

You park your car, heading up the stairs to the apartment, your mind wandering. Despite your best efforts, Bada is starting to worm her way into your head. It's stupid. You're being ridiculous.

This was going to be a long semester.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

"I think I'm going to fall asleep."

Bada turns to you, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, please. You've never seen the game before. This is just the warm-up."

You glare at her. "It's been two hours," you point out.

"Yes, and the game hasn't even started yet," she says, matter-of-factly.

"I hate you," you grumble, crossing your arms.

"You know you're the one who suggested we research a sports team, right?"

"Shut up," you mutter, glaring at her.

The two of you have been sitting in uncomfortable plastic chairs for the past two hours, observing the team's practice as they ran around an outdoor basketball court under the sweltering heat. Bada was not lying about the terrible working conditions these women were put under. You didn't understand how they had the ability to exercise in these circumstances. You were dying.

"I need a break," you declare, standing up and stretching.

"No, no, no, no. Sit," she demands, pulling on your wrist and dragging you back into your seat.

"Let me go!" you yell, struggling against her grip. Why the hell was this woman so strong? For christ's sake, she was a dancer, not a wrestler.

"Not until the end of the game," she states, gripping tighter.

"This isn't fair!"

"Life isn't fair," she retorts.

"You're such a bitch," you seethe, finally ripping your arm from her grasp.

"So, I've been told."

"Why are we here again?" you ask, slumping in your seat.

"Look, just try to pay attention. I'll buy you a smoothie if you stay focused," she offers.

"Deal," you say, straightening your posture and turning to watch the practice.

"And now, the final play," the coach yells, blowing a whistle.

The team scatters, moving to their positions. Doyeon, the captain, dribbles the ball down the court, passing it to another girl, who moves closer to the net. Just as she's about to shoot, the girl trips, sending the ball spiraling out of her hands and in your direction. You gasp, scrambling out of the way, but you're not fast enough. The ball hits you square in the face, causing you to yelp as you fall backward in your chair.

"Fuck," you whine, holding your hand to your face.

"Oh, shit, are you okay?" Bada asks, kneeling down next to you.

"Do I look okay you goofball?!" you shout, removing your hand to reveal a bloodied nose.

"Ooh, ouch," she cringes.

"Are you okay?" a different voice asks, and you look up to see the woman who had tripped approaching the two of you.

"I'm fine," you mumble, feeling embarrassed.

"I'm really sorry," she apologizes, bowing her head.

"It's fine," you shrug, standing up.

"You should come see the nurse," Bada says.

"No, I'll be fine. It's not that bad," you insist, wiping away the blood.

"Are you sure?" the basketball player asks.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. It's not the first time this has happened," you explain, trying to alleviate her concern.

"What?" Bada chokes.

"Please don't ask," you sigh.

"Okay, well, I should get back," the girl says, gesturing toward the court.

"Of course. Go kick ass," you cheer, smiling.

"Thanks," she grins, running back onto the court.

You and Bada watch the girl's retreating figure. Bada then turns to you, a look of concern on her face.

"Okay, come on. Let's get you cleaned up," Bada instructs, pulling on your wrist and leading you towards to one of the entrances into the building.

"Where are we going?"

"The locker rooms," she states.

"What? No, no, no, no," you protest, planting your feet and resisting her.

"I'm not letting you sit here while your nose bleeds. Besides, the girls have to go in there eventually. We'll interview Doyeon once she comes in." she explains.

"But—"

"Who cares? Come on, let's go," she urges, tugging on your arm.

"Fine," you concede, allowing her to drag you through the building.

Once inside the locker room, Bada leads you to a sink and forces you to stand still.

"Hold still," she commands, grabbing a paper towel and wetting it.

"What are you doing?" you ask.

"Cleaning up the blood," she responds, bringing the towel to your nose.

"Don't!" you hiss, swatting her hand away.

"You have to," she argues.

"No, I don't. I can do it myself," you retort.

"Just let me do it," she whines. "I've had to do stuff like this more times that I can count. I'm basically a professional."

"What? You having to clean up your own bloody noses? Why? Because of the amount of times you've gotten slapped in the face?"

"Hey!" she pouts.

"Well, are you going to answer the question or not?"

"Dance injuries. Now, will you let me help you?"

"Ugh, fine," you groan, rolling your eyes.

She brings the towel to your nose, gently dabbing the blood away. Her hand brushes against your cheek, sending a tingle down your spine. She's standing so close to you, her chest nearly presses into yours. You can smell her perfume, a subtle vanilla scent that seems to surround her. It's intoxicating.

When you glance up, her eyes lock with yours, and for a moment, you forget how to breathe. They're a deep brown. Warm and inviting. You've never noticed how beautiful they are. Or maybe, you just haven't had the opportunity to study them this closely.

Her fingers linger on your skin, the tips grazing over the sensitive flesh.

"There. All better," she says, throwing away the paper towel.

"Thanks," you say, clearing your throat.

"No problem," she grins.

The two of you stand in silence, neither of you wanting to move.

"So," you start, breaking the tension. "Should we, uh, wait for Doyeon here?"

"Sure," she shrugs.

"Okay, um, I'm going to, uh, sit over there," you stutter, pointing to the bench behind her.

"Okay," she says.

You awkwardly make your way to the bench and sit down, keeping a safe distance between the two of you.

"How are you feeling?" she asks.

"A little lightheaded," you admit.

"Hmm, do you want some water?" she suggests.

You think of the possibly poisoned coffee. "No, I think I'm alright," you say.

"Okay," she nods.

Another awkward silence.

"So, you, uh, have a lot of dance injuries?" you ask.

"Yeah, a few," she laughs.

"Like, what kind?"

"Oh, nothing serious. Mostly bruises and sprains. Once, I twisted my ankle, but that was ages ago," she says, waving her hand dismissively.

"Really?"

"Mm-hmm," she nods.

"How many times have you had a bloody nose?" you inquire.

"That's a secret," she grins.

"C'mon," you press.

"Nope, not telling," she shakes her head.

"You're no fun," you huff.

"I'm lots of fun. You're just not asking the right questions," she smirks.

"Like what?"

"Like.."

The locker room door opens, and a group of women walk in, all chattering excitedly. Bada looks over, her smile growing wider.

"Doyeon!" she calls, waving her hand.

You turn, spotting the captain running over to you. Her hair is tied up in a messy bun and sweat drips down her face. As worn out as she seemed, she still looked incredible. In a flash, you became hyperaware of your probably still disheveled looks as a result of your recent injury. Way to embarrass yourself in front of a pretty girl.

"Hey, Doyeon," Bada greets, standing up and smiling at her. Doyeon outstretches her arms, enveloping Bada in a lingering, tight, hug.

"Bada! I missed you," Doyeon sighs.

"Missed you too," Bada replies.

"And who's this?" she asks, pulling away from the hug and nodding in your direction.

"Oh, um, this is y/n, she's working with me on the project. I told you about."

"Nice to meet you," you smile, extending a hand.

"Likewise," she replies, shaking it.

"So, are you ready to do this interview?" Bada asks, eagerness dripping in her voice.

"Yeah, let me get changed first," she replies, walking towards the lockers.

"Sure," Bada nods, watching as Doyeon disappears into the showers.

You glance over at her, her eyes still trained on where Doyeon had just disappeared. Something in your stomach sinks.

"Oh my god," you scoff.

"What?" she asks, turning to face you.

"Don't tell me we're interviewing one of your little girlfriends," you grimace.

"She's not my girlfriend," she frowns.

"Whatever," you say, rolling your eyes.

"Seriously, y/n, we're just friends."

"With benefits?" you inquire, raising an eyebrow.

"Why does this matter so much to you, anyway?" she asks, crossing her arms.

"Because, it's my project, and I don't want it ruined because you can't keep your hormones in check," you reply, glaring at her.

"I'm not going to 'ruin' anything, alright? I'm perfectly capable of keeping my personal life separate from my school work."

"Yeah, sure, whatever," you mutter.

"God, you're so frustrating," she huffs.

"So are you," you snap.

"Well, it's a good thing this is just for a project, and you don't have to deal with me outside of class, then."

"But it's a shame I can't get rid of you sooner."

"Believe me, the feeling's mutual," she growls.

You open your mouth, ready to unleash a verbal assault, but you're cut off by the sound of footsteps. Doyeon walks up, her hair still wet, and her bag slung over her shoulder.

"You two ready?" she asks, grinning at the both of you.

"As we'll ever be," Bada sighs.

The three of you sit on the locker room bench, a small space in between each of you. Bada is scribbling something down on a piece of paper while Doyeon waits patiently.

"Alright, um, first question. How have the recent changes affected the team's practices and games?"

"Honestly, it's been pretty tough. We're used to practicing indoors, so the outdoor heat has been brutal. On top of that, we've had less access to facilities, which has made things even more difficult. All of this has taken a toll on our performance, both on and off the court."

"That's unfortunate," Bada frowns. "How have the coaches and other staff members been handling the situation?"

"Not well, honestly. They've been pretty angry and stressed. They haven't taken it out on us, but it's been noticeable. And, honestly, they have every right to be upset. This is a big change for everyone, and it's not something that was anticipated."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Bada sighs.

"Thanks," Doyeon says with a smile, placing her hand on top of Bada's.

The sight of it makes your stomach twist, and a scowl forms on your face.

"Uh, next question," you start. "Do you have any idea when the situation might improve?"

Doyeon tears her eyes away from Bada. "Hopefully soon. We can't keep playing like this. Something needs to change."

"And if nothing does?" you ask.

"Then we'll have to keep fighting. Like always," she shrugs.

"I'm proud of you guys. You've all been handling this whole situation with a lot of grace," Bada compliments.

"Well, I have a great team. Everyone has really stepped up and supported each other. We've got a lot of good people," Doyeon smiles.

"That's wonderful to hear," Bada grins.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes.

"Anyways, let's wrap this up," you say, clapping her hands together. "Last question. Is there anything else you think is worth knowing for our project?"

"Hm, let me think," she hums, placing her finger to her chin. "I don't think there's anything..."

"Well then, I think we're done!" you announce, swiftly standing up.

"Already?" Bada asks, glancing at her watch.

"Yeah, time flies, huh?"

"I guess," she mutters. "Alright, thanks for your time, Doyeon," Bada smiles, reaching across the space and squeezing Doyeon's knee.

"Of course," she beams.

You roll your eyes again.

"Well, I'll see you later, okay?" Bada says, standing up.

"Absolutely," Doyeon agrees.

"Great," she grins.

Bada turns to face you, a forced smile plastered on her face.

"We done?"

"Yep, let's go."

You and Bada make your way out of the locker room, leaving Doyeon behind.

"That went well," Bada sighs, once the door closes.

"Sure did," you mumble, barely able to contain the sarcasm.

"I can't wait to write up the report," she exclaims, her eyes lighting up.

"It'll be nice, yeah," you say.

"Maybe after, we could—"

"I need to go," you blurt out, cutting her off.

"What?" she asks, frowning.

"I'm, uh, late. For class. Sorry."

"Oh. Okay, um, I'll see you around, I guess," she says.

"Bye," you say, rushing past her.

You're not lying. You are late for class. But not nearly as late as you're making out. You speed-walk across campus, a million thoughts racing through your mind. No wonder Bada was so eager to do this project. It was just an excuse to spend time with Doyeon. And, judging by the way the two of them interacted, it wasn't the first time they'd spent time together.

You're not exactly sure why this is bothering you so much. You knew Bada got around. Maybe it's because you're annoyed that Bada didn't tell you the truth. Or maybe it's because you feel stupid for not seeing this coming. Whatever the reason, the fact remains that you're upset, and you have no one to blame but yourself.

You make it to your lecture hall, and as quietly as possible, slip into an empty seat near the back. Your professor drones on and on about the importance of deadlines and punctuality, and you find yourself completely unable to pay attention. Instead, you replay the day's events over and over again. Each time, you cringe at the memory of how oblivious and naive you'd been.

read part two

#bada lee #bada lee fanfic #bada x reader #lee bada #street woman fighter 2 #swf2 #swf2 x reader #bada lee x reader #bada imagine #bada lee x y/n #bada lee fluff #bada lee imagine

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novantinuum · 2 months

Text

mmmmmmm. messy ass ramble thoughts ahead. this is not coherent, it is 1am, you have been warned.

so i've been thinking about that "i can fix anything! i can just keep messing up and fixing things forever, and you'll never have to know or think about any of it!" line during steven's lil manic panic moment in the ep everything's fine in the context of like... og SU episodes

this whole lil manic slip is one that's like... it seems a little extreme for him as a character at first, when one looks at the situation on surface.

but i think it really does shed a LOT of light onto one of his deepest fear. the same fear he's harbored for a good damn deal of the show.

"i didn't wanna hurt anyone!"

this moment comes just a few eps after the S3 finale 'reveal' of rose shattering pink diamond. in that final scene of the season, steven gets 'confirmation' from garnet that this happened, and seems to accept it for what it was- a difficult decision made amidst a treacherous war.

but also, he Doesn't.

because he's the legacy rose left behind. because each and every day he's growing more into his power. because now, with this reveal of rose's decision to shatter on the table, he's putting each and every decision he makes under a microscope.

he had no choice, he claims. she wouldn't let him help her.

he had no choice. it was self defense.

but is that true?

isn't that the same thing his mom probably told herself before ending a gem's life forever?

even though she poofed bismuth and holed her away for suggesting the very same idea??

rose became a hypocrite... so what if HE becomes the hypocrite, too?

see, with steven... i think it's really easy in the main show to sorta... observe all his actions on the mere surface without considering the deeper tickings of his psyche. like... take lars being brought back to life. from audience POV, that's a good deed. steven just saved someone with his magic! positive moment.

but genuinely... i think this was one of the worst moments of his entire life. i think he's still haunted by it- by the fact that he can just "fix" people in that way. and i think fixing jasper's shattered gem only made the specter of that day worse.

steven believes his role is to be the Shield.

the protector.

the one who is willing to do whatever it takes- even up to turning himself in for a crime he didn't commit- to protect his family and his friends.

and like, we all know that it's not steven's FAULT that lars died. BUT- he still died while under steven's protection.

and so the same way steven blames himself for "hurting" bismuth, jasper, and eyeball, he blames himself for killing lars. mentally, he Takes Responsibility for his death. yet another tick mark in the box of horrible "mistakes" he's made, yet another tick mark landing him just a little closer to the rose he's desperately trying not to become.

and worst of all... it's a mistake he "covers up."

because his tears are able to bring him back from the dead entirely.

and years later he realizes this is true for gems as well ;-;;;

so yeah, i absolutely think lars' death was also at the back of his mind when he said that line at the beginning

what steven saw in the depths of his mind as he was panicking there was him slipping down a slippery slope of violence that he couldn't escape from

first, causing harm to other gems and calling it self defense...

then, letting your friend die protecting YOU when you're the one who should be protecting him and facing NO consequence for this misgiving because you bring him back to life

then, expressing anger so visceral it can shatter floors, destroy whole rooms, flip vans. out of control. inexcusable.

then... outright shattering a gem in a duel while training to hone that anger. once again, facing NO consequence because you bring her right back.

then, that sudden, terrifying thought of "what if i shattered white diamond"

like, steven has absolutely no framework by which to separate his actions from genuine desire or just plain abstract thought.

he has no framework by which to understand the beautiful tool of adding a "man would it be fucked up or what-" to the beginning of those sorts of intimidating, dark musings.

he has no framework by which to understand the complexities of his trauma, and the way in which genuinely fighting back against someone he once called an enemy might feel empowering- instead, it would seem he's disgusted in retrospect with how deep he pressed into that fight, how much a part of him ENJOYED it, all because of the horrid destination it led to.

anyways at this point steven thinks he has now become the Hypocrite like his mom, and that he's just destined to hurt everyone around him forever but never be punished for it and Ouch

this post has no end, these were just ramble thoughts, the end. goodnight. i am sleepy and need to prepare to make Wig tomorrow bc OH boy i am con crunch.

yeehaw .

#jen rambles #su #su future #steven universe #su meta #???? maybe???#it's messy but it is Thoughts

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qqueenofhades · 7 months

Note

I'm a little confused by the left's repeated assertion that they're "trying to hold Biden accountable" and push him left, things they've been talking about since before he was elected, and the ramifications of that at this point in time. I do think we need to be calling out things we disagree with and making our feelings known, but seeing people like Nina Turner complain about student loan forgiveness when it's been made abundantly clear Biden is doing all he can and he can't actually cancel anything as just the President (without being sued or having it reversed by Republicans - please correct me if I'm wrong and there's more he could do here?) doesn't feel like it's that? I just don't understand the logic behind people on the left adding to this narrative that he isn't trying hard enough on what we want, rather than the Republicans are preventing things from being done. We need to not sit back and get complacent, yes, sure, but I feel like the line where it goes from helpful and necessary to harmful and more beneficial to the right was crossed a while ago.

The thing is, you're confused by it because it's a bad-faith argument. Actually "holding someone accountable" means honestly assessing what they can do, what they have done, what they can be expected to do in the future, and if they haven't done it, what's stopping them (i.e. have they just not done it or are they being actively stopped from doing it by factors beyond their control)? It doesn't mean "constantly moving the goalposts to constantly criticize someone if they don't magically get everything done immediately, regardless of reality." The way Online Leftists use it, "holding Biden accountable" means "relentlessly criticize him every instant he doesn't magically transform into the Socialist Messiah overnight, the end." That's not actually a useful, honest, reliable, or constructive metric.

This is also the case because their version of good policy is "someone thinks the Correct Thoughts all the time and any failures to achieve it means they are not thinking the Correct Thoughts hard enough." I'm not sure how anyone could have missed what SCOTUS is doing right now, but Online Leftists remain determined to discount, minimize, or otherwise totally ignore its role, because that would mean a) there is in fact a difference between the parties, b) Hillary Clinton would not have made the same appointments Trump did, and c) they might therefore have some responsibility in not voting for her, none of which can be countenanced. As such, if Biden has failed to wave a magic wand and get all student debt erased for everyone overnight, He Is Just Not Trying Hard Enough. SCOTUS very notably outlawed his first forgiveness program? BIDEN'S FAULT!

Even though Biden extended the Covid-era payment pauses as long as he could (it was Congress that passed the law mandating an end to them, because THE PRESIDENT IS NOT AN ABSOLUTE MONARCH!), and even though he's now rejiggered the entire repayment program so that your monthly payments can get lowered to $0, these count as payments, and no interest accumulates as long as you "make" them, which in practice adds up to full forgiveness -- this still isn't good enough for the Online Leftists, because it happened after trial and error, is a partial solution, doesn't snap its fingers and erase everything, and relies on slow and careful policy work. And yet, it's going to be a lot harder for SCOTUS to overturn than just "the president forgives your debt," which was the first thing he tried to do and it didn't work! With a different SCOTUS, it might have! But we have this nightmare court BECAUSE OF TRUMP, and all the Pure Thoughts in the world won't get rid of it!

Biden is the most liberal president we have ever had, period, full stop. It's not sexy and it's not exciting and it's not something the Online Leftists will ever acknowledge, but it's the truth. And whenever he is actually and extensively pushed, he goes more left, not less. I suspect at least part of the recent negative press barrage he's gotten is because he's openly come out with a plan to raise the tax rate on billionaires to 25%, and the corporations and oligarchs that own the mainstream media Really Don't Like That. (They've always been unfair to Democrats, but look for it to be especially so.) That would be, BY FAR, the highest the top-rate tax bracket has been since Reagan. Biden is the first president ever to actually address the scam of "Reaganomics" and take credit for "Bidenomics," which actually does represent a major rearrangement of the way capital is envisioned and distributed in this country for the first time in the 40+ years since Reagan wrecked it. That's why the capitalist media is really, REALLY determined to muckrake him as much as possible, and to do Kamala even dirtier than they did to HRC in 2016.

Anyway also: Holding someone accountable also implies that you're working with them and will reward them (i.e. voting for them, engaging with them) if they do the things you expect, which is another thing the Online Leftists won't do. So yes. This. The end.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts

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wrens-wramblings · 2 years

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A massive problem with how fandom - particularly queer rep - is going right now on this website is how quick people are to jump ship onto the next thing and then immediately start trashing the everliving shit out of the old thing.

Steven Universe (not a perfect show by any means) while it was coming out was celebrated constantly. The Garnet reveal? Pearl being in love with Rose? The Rupphire wedding? SU was revolutionary and has been quoted by cartoon creators now for being a big reason people are allowed to bring their stories to life. Say what you want about the show, but it broke boundaries and set precedents for a lot of the shows that you now love. And the show's plot lines regarding the diamonds has been taken in completely bad faith - do yall really think the half Jewish queer person meant for you to get "Let's all forgive Nazis" from the Diamonds redemption arcs??

After Steven Universe ended a large majority of people jumped to She Ra and the Princesses of Power and when they mentioned SU at all it was to put it down as a show with terrible representation and all round bad writing.

During SPOP's run it was massively popular, with a lot of buzz around the main ship, Catradora. I know this is gonna be taken in bad faith so a quick note - while I do like Catradora, I do feel that there should have been another season for Catra to properly acknowledge the harm she did to Adora and actually grow as a person before entering into a relationship. Catra was forgiven too easily, but that was in part due to Netflix not wanting to give the show another season to properly flesh out the redemption arc. The final season was rushed as all hell, and so many story points would have been better with another season to flesh them out further.

But I digress - during the show's run it was constantly talked about for it's representation, having multiple queer characters, including a nonbinary character.

The show ends and again, the fanbase jumps. This time, it's to the Owl House. People start talking about how SPOP was actually horrible representation and, my personal favourite, they "added gay people as a cash grab."

Yeah okay guys, I'm sure a queer nonbinary creator is writing about queer people because they actually dislike the gays and want to wring money out of us. That is definitely the situation here.

And now I'm worried that in a year or two we'll have the next big queer cartoon and the posts will start popping up -

"Amity Blight is the mean lesbian stereotype."

"Raine and Eda's relationship is problematic because-"

"Amity and Luz started out as rivals, which is toxic because-"

"The romance didn't start until later in the show, it was added at the end for a cash grab."

Again, I'm certain there's gonna be bad faith takes on this -- I'm not saying these shows are perfect. They all have flaws somewhere. No media is completely without it's faults and its good to recognise those faults, that what critical reading is. But calling someone an abuser for enjoying SPOP, or a Nazi sympathiser for liking SU (actual accusations I have seen on tumblr.com) is frankly a little ridiculous.

As for the bad rep argument - every show on this list has one thing in common: a queer creator. No one experiences queerness the exact same way - the only thing that harassing queer creators for not showing your experience does is make other queer creators... not want to write queer characters. No one wants to receive death threats because, for example, they based a character with their sexuality off of how that actually affected them and someone on the Internet decided they were feeding into a harmful stereotype.

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faultlinescomic · 2 years

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FAULT LINES - PART 4, PAGE 12

✨ New reader? Start here! ✨

Updates Mondays.

#fault lines comic #steven universe #gemsona #fangem #su comic #shhhh late update #I tried to colour/letter four pages in one evening......#the good news is #I am now three pages ahead with flat colours

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haunted-headset · 6 months

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Ok so hear me out

Wilbur and Y/n arguing.

Then y/n wanted to k!ll herself but..

Guess what Wilbur did...

He moved the knife away and kisses her...

💔 There’s a Reason London Puts Barriers on the Tube Line 💔

Summary: You & Wilbur have a massive argument & all of your su!c!dal thoughts came back, so you ran to Jubilee Line to do your deed. What you forgot is that Wilbur can track your phone.

A/N: Hello! Tysm for the ask! I changed the story up a bit so that the reader doesn't use a knife since knives kinda trigger me :/

word count: 796

proofread: nope

tags: @vibestillaxxx@joviepog@ax-y10@themonsterunderurmom @wilburstan@smolsleepykitten@funnyreally2009@crows-death@dykepunz@aresriiots@0miamor0 @cathers-world@defonotval@chipch0p@mazzistar16@unmellowyellowfellow@justalittlebitofchaos@thosecolorfulsheets@vopix@taylors-version-from-the-vault@aine-lasagna@merianakross@veeislost@urfav-sapphic-siren@shazbaz58-blog @wifiatthetrainstation@mcr-pr-fob@shd454@universe-friday@rqvii@idioticion@m0thza (let me know if u don't or do wanna be tagged!!)

warnings/cw: the reader has su!c!dal thoughts, two attempted su!c!des, mentions of an overdose, arguing/yelling, swearing

This was the worst argument you'd ever had with him in your three years of dating him, & it made your head hurt & your chest feel tight. You had attempted to kill yourself two days ago by overdosing on your anti-depressants.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" Wilbur shouted. "Are you fucking stupid, Y/N?! You could've seriously hurt yourself!"

"That's the point!" You shouted back. "That's why I did it! & I already told you I didn’t want to talk about it, yet you kept insisting!"

“That’s because I fucking care about you!” Wilbur yelled. His fists were balled & his eyes, like yours, were bloodshot.

"Well, did I ask for you to care about me?” you cried.

He let out a loud groan of anger & pinched the bridge of his nose. "God, I fucking hate you."

Your eyes widened in shock. He'd gotten angry at you before, of course, but he'd never said that he hated you before. "You don’t mean that," you murmured as more tears rolled down your damp cheeks.

"Right now, I do," he said icily. "More than anything in the world.”

You glared at him. "More than the I love yous?”

His eyes met yours & his expression softened slightly. “…You’re being unfair."

"How the hell am I being unfair?!" you exclaimed. "You're being the unfair & shitty one here! Instead of asking me if I'm alright, you just--you just get mad at me! & when I say I don't want to talk, you keep pressing & pressing & pressing!"

"It's not my fault nor my problem that you're a depressed bitch who doesn't do anything to try & improve their mental state!" he yelled.

With burning tears in your eyes, you started to tie your shoes. Wilbur sighed & said, "No, please don't leave, I-"

"Just shut up," you snapped before you walked out, slamming the door behind you. You started to walk through the rain to Jubilee Line, which would take about forty minutes. You stepped in a few puddles on your way, which drenched your shoes & legs, & you forgot to grab a hoodie, so your entire body was soaked in rainwater.

When you finally arrived, tears rolled down your cheeks & mixed with raindrops as you remembered the song that Wilbur had written a year or two ago. He was rambling on & on about how crappy the mental health was in London & how the city was doing nothing to help their citizens, & how he'd see people kill themselves on Jubilee Line & nobody would say anything or try to stop them, & instead of trying to help the people by improving their mental health services, the city just built barriers on the tube, & the barriers didn't really do anything. & you told him that he should write a song about that. Within an hour, he'd written a song about it, & for the majority of that hour, he would tell you how much he loved you & how creative you were.

You walked up to the barriers & saw that the next train was arriving in five minutes. You kicked with all of your might on the glass until the glass broke. You smiled sadly. The barriers, like Wilbur had said, were shit.

You took a deep breath & held back your tears. You took a step forward.

You were about to fall onto the tracks.

This was it.

It would finally work.

You heard a familiar voice scream your name from behind you.

& then somebody pulled you back & hugged you. It was a sobbing Wilbur.

"L-love, I don't ever want you to die, please...don't die..." he said between his sobs. "I-I'm sorry for yelling, I'm sorry for hurting you, I didn't mean it, I didn't mean a fucking word, I don't hate you, I never would, darling..."

You pressed your face into his chest & sobbed with him as you both murmured apologies to each other. He pulled you away from his chest only to pepper kisses all over your wet face.

"Please, don't go...I just need to feel your arms around me, mon amour, that's all I've ever wanted," he cried. "I don't want to lose you."

"I'm sorry," you whimpered. "I'm sorry for-"

He cut you off with a kiss. When he pulled away, he cupped your face & said, "You have nothing to be sorry for, Y/N. You're the one who's struggling & I didn't even think about that, & I was such a dickhead to you."

"So you don't hate me?" you said with a sniffle as he wiped your cheeks.

"I would never hate you," he whispered. "C'mon, let's go home. I think there's a lot that we need to talk about."

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wilcze-kudly · 4 months

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Ok @i-put-the-ass-into-sass and @justlikedsstuff the floodgates are open.

Imagining all the Beifongs, not just Toph having extremely sensitive seismic sense.

Just i imagine it's a very strong experience, strong enough to literally replace a sense. I imagine that it can be incredibly overwhelming for people who use it alongside other senses, eg. not replacing a sense like in Toph's case. I also imagine that the younger you learn it, the bigger difficulty you have 'turning it off'.

I like to imagine it can cause migraines and overstimulation in frequent users. But being unable to use it can cause anxiety and distress, as losing any other sense would.

Lin and Su knowing when their mother is lying about coming back home before dinner.

Su listening to her mother and sister's heartbeats and wishing that they'd just speak what was on their hearts.

Lin hearing Tenzin's heart speading up when he would look at Pema and not her. Lin having difficulty walking and keeping herself balanced after losing her bending to Amon, feeling literally blinded. Trying to keep it together in front of Amon and the Equalists but having a panic attack the moment she's alone because she can't feel anything, she can't feel anything, she can't feel anything

Su being hesitant to teach Huan and the twins seismic sense, because she knows how difficult it is for children to handle. But of course, they're stubborn little things and they start learning by themselves.

Its a very rare ability, but it comes surprisingly easy to the Beifongs. Though the cost is thay children are made to deal with senses sharper than their little minds are meant for.

I always headcanon that Huan has a particularly well developed seismic sense, which is the reason he's so testy and emotional. He can feel almost everything around the house (think dolores from encanto lol) and he has difficulty processing the overwhelming amount of stimuli. He tries to express it through art and he wears thick soled shoes to block it all out.

The twins are quite the opposite. They lean into it, so much so that they refused to wear shoes when they were younger. They were also heavily affected by being suspended in a wooden cage after the family's capture. To this day they feel incredibly anxious if seperated from it for too long.

Thinking about Opal and Baatar Jr not getting the sheer magnitude of feeling everything around you like that and thinking that their siblings are just being dramatic.

Thinking about the Beifongs pulling up their feet or trying to touch the ground as little as possible when stressed or overwhelmed. Or walking barefoot if upset or unsure, to get that connection.

Thinking sbout sensing heartbeats. Hearing the moment something or someone dies for the first time. Is it an animal, a random baby bird killed by an alley cat, a beloved pet? Or is it a person?

Lin killing a criminal in the line of duty. It wasn't her fault, technically. She did everything right, she defended the civilians he was holding hostage. But she tried to block the bleeding, hearing his heatbeat get slower and slower, until it stopped completely. How empty her head must've seemed when she could no longer hear it. How visceral the guilt must've been.

Arguments must be difficult. You can feel when you hit a nerve, sense the other person's anger, tell when they go completely cold towards you.

You can never lie, not to your family. No little white lies that make day to day life easier. No secrets. All blunt honesty and beating hearts filling your ears.

You immediately know when you've said something wrong. When you've hurt someone's feelings. The guilt is instantaneous. The slight skip of someone's heartbeat is like a slap to the face.

You know when someone's lying to you. You know they're lying when they say they'll be back for dinner. You know they're lying when they tell you they'll hang out with you tomorrow. You know they're lying when they say that they love you.

Do you call them out?

Or do you keep the peace, grin and bear it?

Can you even lie to yourself, or will your own heart betray you to yourself?

You know when a sibling is crying down the hall, know that they will be witness to every intimate moment you have, as the you will be to them.

Like there's so much to do with seismic sense. I want it to be less of a gimmick and more of a deep psychological experience. Like it is in all its essence a sense. It's probably a big part of its users lives.

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spriteofmushrooms · 11 months

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Don't think I'm over Qin Su. Female character with like five lines and two scenes? Obsessed. What do you call a mother whose child is dead. If the love of your life flinches from your touch, but he's kind to you, does he love you? If he protects you from every harm but the one that destroys you, did he protect you?

He says he killed you, but you died of grief. Was it his fault for loving you back? For finally succumbing to the match you insisted on? Was it his fault for touching you when you wanted to be touched? Was it his fault for honoring you, even after he learned the truth? Was it his fault for keeping his horror to himself? (Was it the secret that killed your marriage, or was it the truth?)

He says he killed you, but you killed you. He says he killed your son, but he lies, he blames himself, he claims your actions for himself. Was a-Song with a stranger, at the end? Was it his father, with his soft, gentle hands? Which is better, if anything's better? Who held your son last? Did they love him?

#pallas.rtf #mdzs #qin su #fictional child death #fictional suicide

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greenflamedwriter · 14 days

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The First Husband.

Tianglang-Jun X Transmigrated Shen Qingqiu. Instead of burying and chaining the Heavenly Demon into a mountain, instead he's chaind by marriage. The sects sent forth cultivation partners and required offspring with Heavenly demon blood.

With the entire cultivation world threatening him and his son, Binghe, Tianglang-jun had to accept...

Prompt:

Instead of destroying Tianglang-Jun, the sects realised the heavenly demon actually kept the demon realm in order.

if he died it would create a power vacuum they knew about his love for human culture, and if demons ruined that, he couldn’t enjoy their plays and literature-

But with the death of his empress the Huan Hua Su Xiyan leaving him alone with Luo Binghe, Huan Hua planned revenge assuming that the demon killed their disciple.

The other Sects disagreed and wanted no part in it, with no proof why would they take down someone who kept the realms at peace?

So the Old Palace Master devised a new plan. His eyes on Shen Qingqiu, smile growing making the other mans skin crawl-

But to the others they thought nothing if it.

“Then a marriage, if Tianglang-jun is as powerful as they say his off spring should be powerful also, if we choose who to marry that could give us some assurance.”

Instead of chains, instead it was wives hand picked from each sect, pointing daggers at Tianglang-jun, surround him with disarming smiles but at a hidden signal will strike.

Each Sect had to volunteer someone and of course two sects denied.

They were faithful to their cause both the nuns and daoist priests snd choose to remain celibete and so they offered themselves as servants to the wives in the harem to be their ally afterall, he is a demon it’d be best to have cultivators to face any threat.

“What about the men? How could Tianglang-Jun have for us if we can’t aqquire offspring?”

The old man nodded “Their are ways for men to procreate, some with elixers, flowers. Before we discuss we’ll make sure everyone is well informed.”

Shen Qingqiu spoke up.

“Hild on a moment, had Tianglang-jun expressed his desire for wives? Especially after the loss of his empress?”

The Old Palace Masters eyes narrowed.

“Of course, the sect leaders had discussed it.”

More like cornered the man and threatened him till he had no choice butbto comply or inact war any other time he would put these cultivators in their place.

But his sons cried snapped him out if it, Xiyan gave her life for him and Tianglang-jun other than his nelhew had no one. He needed help.

Maybe not all the women sent to him would be cruel…

Shen Yuans heart panged for Tianglang-jun. As he read this stkry abkut the demonic emporer who would chain himself for the sake for his son, would place his head beneith the cultivatirs heel just to save Su Xiyans child. And all kf that to be in vain! He was a giid father! Itbwasn’t his fault the cultivators took advantage of his vunerable state and tricked him into a contract that made him take wives and make off spring! He sidnt want to do it but itvwas either that or bloodshed!

The cultivatirs feared Tianglng-jun but his power was ridiculously op if they could choose canditates they can in turn gain powerful soldiers.

Luo Binghe was left in the care if these wives since tianglang-jun had to keep the peace only he could face powerful demons and keep the cultivators apoeased when he kept his demons in line.

Leaving Luo Binghe alone with his cruel step-mother.

Its what everyone calked Shen Qkngqiu, and the man abused Luo Binghe each chance he took but he wasn’t stupid enough to leave obvious marks for Tianglang-jun to notice!

And the blood parasotes?

There was a loop hole, unless Shen Qingqiu saw it as discipline, they never alerted Luo Binghes father.

And in thrn Luo Binghe assumed his father disnt care ans knew about the abuse.

Shen Yuan hated the story and how it ended that Luo Binghe after bejng pushed into the abyss came back killing both Tianglang-jun and his step-mother.

It was just too cruel that Tianglang-jun did all that for Luo Binghe and his son didnt see his suffering.

And then in a stupid twist Luo Binghe took over the harem, he ended up killing all Tianglang-juns offspring and took the wives himself, it apoeared that Binghe ahd a tyoe and that was cougers!

He was too young for them, Shen Yuan was spitting fury and not only that-

There was some build up with Huan Hua! That they were evil and instead of revealing that they just went-

“Oh well whatever we don’t care abkut demons anymore!”

The fuck! It made no sense that the ending…fizzled out like that.

It sucked, it hinestly sucked!

“Stupid dumbfuck author!”

_________________

Shen Qingqiu took his eyes away for a moment, distracted by Ming Fan, the son of Ning Yingying he was only three but a hellion and liked to bully the crown primce Binghe-

Splash!

Shen Qingqiu turned in alarm and saw Luo Binghe disapear into the pond in their courtyard.

“Binghe!”

Shen Qingqiu flew forward reaching out and pulling Luo Binghe out the pond, just in time for Luo Binghe to cough and hack up water, but his lips were already turning blue-

Shen Qingqiu shed Luo Binghes robes and wrapped him up in his outer layer.

“Xiao- get Tianglang-jun!”

Gongyi Xiao was the same age as Luo Binghe he was the son of a servant. When Qin Wanyrue had her miscarriage others assumed she would want no children near here-

But she took in Gongyi Xiao raising him.

And made him a playmate for Luo Binghe but even so he was faster knew the servant quarters and shkrtcuts and clukd get their junshang in time.

“Ming fan go to Ning Yingying!”

He moved with haste to Mu Qingfangs quarters.

The man was at his desk and turned pleasent.

“To what do I owe the visit-“

“Its Binghe! He fell in the pond!”

Seeing his frantic face, Mu Qingfang set to work.

And thats hiw Tianglang-jun flound them. After dismissing Gongyi Xiao, he entered but was halted by Mu Qingfang.

“A word, Junshang.”

Tianglang-jun trusted this man, su Xiyan swore he was a friend and he even helped with the birth of Luo Binghe and tried to save Su Xiyan tk the best kf his ability.

And she would’ve been alive if it wasn’t for the cultivators ambush…

“There is no need to test Qingqiu anymore. If he were to harm Binghe he would’ve dine so by now. But this almost harmed Binghe there is ni need to lretend.”

Properlly chastisied Tinaglang-jun finally entered and saw his son swallowed in blankets-

And Shen Qingqiu holding his hand, looking worried.

“Shizun, I feel bad…” Tianglang-juns beart squeezed. Luo Binghe sounded so weak.

To think when Binghe cried saying Shizun was kind and he didn’t want to be mean anymore Tianglang-jun told him he had to, once Shen Qingqiu reveals his true colours and yet it never came.

It was too cruel to cintinue on, Binghe almost got hurt.

“I knkw it feels bad, Binghe. It’ll pass, you’ll be up on your feet in no time.”

“Wheres Baba?”

“He’ll be here soon-“

Tianglang-Jun finally stepped into view noticing Binghes weak smile, Shen Qjngqiu thrned then stiffened, face pale as he ripped his hand iut if Binghes to bow-

“J-Junshang! Apologies it was this ones fault, I took my eyes of Binghe for a second-“

Tianglang-jun help him stand up straight.

“Its alright, young Xiao told me everythkng.”

Shen Qingqiu nodded, “This one will accept any punishment as he sees fit,”

“Enough of that now, no ones getting punished. You did the right thing bringing him to Mu Qingfang,”

As Tianglang jun settled into the bed he patted the other side and Shen Qingqiu who almost thought he was dismissed settled on the other side of Bknghe who thanks to the medicjne was dozing off.

“This Lord had his nephew raise Binghe. But during the talks of marriage and oeace treaties rebellions began to rise, Zhuzhi-lang had to deal with them in my stead.

And I had no one to watch Binghe who was only one years old at the time.” He spoke gazing at his son.

“Qin Wanyrue was a charming girl, but after her miscarriage was not suitable so I trusted her little sister to watch him, as well as other concubines and servants.”

Tianglang-jun sighed.

“This lord felt someone strike Luo Binghe, and the worst thing is that I cant tell who did it only that he was hurt. When they were caught out, they were banished or punished but Binghe refused to speak.

So I made it a game, for Binghe to try to expose thise women with warm charming smiles and saw how quick their real faces showed when a child acted like a child.”

Tianglang-jun looked at him with guilt, and Shen Qingqiu was entranced by it feeling his chest grow tight with that attention.

“This Lord and his son were testing you. That seems wrong but for the sake of my son and to keep him safe that was what I could think off.”

Shen Qingqiu found himself smiling.

“This one understands, I would do the same thing.”

“It was not my intention to lie to you for so long though.”

“Well better safe and sorry, Luo Binghe is your sole heir.”

Although there was a plot hole here-

If Tianglang-jun knew Binghe was abused why didnt he stop Shen Qingqiu in the originol story?

It didnt seem in character but if he knew then he let Binghe get abused and did nothing about it, turning a blind eye.

But what changed? Was Tianglang-jun tired?

Did he think humans were softer and saw the blatant attacks as being sinilair to demons and thought it was normal?

Shang Qinghua, the son of Qiu Haitang.

Blth were awful characters in Shen Yuans opinion, both using under handed tricks to make it worse for the protagonists and scum villain alike-

What was gross he thought with a sneer, was that neer the end in one line, it said Shang Qinghua married Mobei-jun.

Nkthing too bad unless you forget their siblings!

Qingqhua was a prince but was the lowest of the low, meanwhile Mobei-Jun was the son of Tianglang-jun and the Mobei Elder.

Shen Qingqiu found this out when he was trying to pursuade Binghe from calling him mother.

“I am not your mother.” Seeing the hurt, Shen Qingqiu tried to explain.

“Your mother was Su Xiyan and she loved you very much, this one does not want to replace her but I do see you like a son, you’re my family. I just dont want you to forget about her, and how much she means to your father.”

“Does Shizun…hate mama since she was BaBa’s first love?”

Shen Qingqiu laughed “No, I wish I had tge easure of meeting her. They say you look just like her.”

Luo Binghe grew mullish.

“Is that why Baba doesnt visit anymore?”

Yeah, Tianglang-jun defiently was busy with his own rule, the other wives and rryjng to father one kther offspring or they’ll see this whole thing as a waste of time.

But Luo Binghe was starting to look more and more like her and Tianglang-jun was being obvious about his abscense.

Shen Yuan would have to beat it into him.

And then for some reason he can’t remember when- but he ended up explaining the birds and the bee’s to Binghe.

And of course that was when Tianglang-jun appeared Shen Qingqiu smiled always delighted tonsee hisbfavourite character then stiffened to see a dark bruise on Tianglang-juns neck.

A kiss bitten mark.

“Thats one way to do it, but men can create life too.”

He gave Shen Qingqiu a knowing look and Shen Qingqiu gaped-

Male preg?

“Men can conceive like women can or the oreffered method to demons and humans is sereogacy.”

Tianglang-jun sat with them leaning one arm on his leg.

“This lord was thinking about it, after talks with Mobei-Jun he wants this Lord to sire his child to pass down the line, and to keep the child safe till the time comes. The Mobei Clan has been nkthing but loyal,” he glanced at Shen Qingqiu whos insight has helped the lord more than he can say.

If Qingqiu hated they idea Tianglang-jun would do nothing.

“Yes, it can be beneficial to both, and the long run. With two princes both can watch assist wach other and create a united front- but my Lord you couldn’t carry the child- and neitger can Mobei-jun they are weak during consumtion when they pass on the title that burden would make it worse for them.”

“Hmm, which is why I thiught you should do it.”

“Hmm- what!?”

Tianglang-Jun leaned closer nuzzling his shoulder.

“That child will have the power of the heavenly demon clan and Mobei Clan but he’d just be a shell, he would be Qingqius child entierly he will look like you, and take after you.”

Shen Qingqiu was stiffening even more.

“T-that I din’t think I can-“

“It wont hurt, its not the same as a typical pregnancy.” He placed his hand on Qingqiu’s stomach right where the dantian is-

“Only our spirtual energy goes through here along with the help of a flower and it should form a spirtual womb we just need to keep feeding it the energy and Mobei jr will be born!”

“Im gonna be a big brother!”

Luo Binghe looked so excited and Qingqiu found it hard to say no.

“How do you get it out?”

“The same way as putting spiritual energy in, if Qingqiu using his spiritual cultivation and pushes can eject the baby that way, its why most people end up with child during qi deviations.”

Ah, he kept getting confused that men can be impregnated.

“What else is tgere? There has to be a catch.”

Tianglang-jun looked sheepish.

“Well the flower that creats the spirtual womb will be permanent, so theres a chance that Qingqiu can create life but wont go back to normal.”

That was the catch?

“Okay.”

“You don’t have to decide now- what?”

“Okay.”

It happened in the story too, Shen Qingqiu had to hold the off spring it was an honour and most women were failing to make children so they decided a string cultivatir would do-

But still to marry him to Qinghua? Airplane got so many death threats for that.

So when he was babysitting the brat along with the others- ckz yeah as a shizun he wasnt just teaching Binghe he taught all the offspring.

Only Gongyi xiao who attented was the odd duckling out as he was adopted by Qin Wanyrue so he faved discrimnation.

Only Luo Binghe stuck up for him remaining sticky with his little brother it was sweet.

But that rat Qjnghua was watching him.

And he didn’t like it.

“Wait so- no one is Tianglang-juns son!?”

“It was Gongyi Xiao who created the idea when the servant died and Qin Wanyrue took him in most wives adopted sons and daughters.

They all panicked not knly cknfortable with their life, but the pressure frkm tge sects to bear children and make sure that children is a high ranking prince! But Demon blood is incompatible to weak cultivators- they inly sent the weakest and they’re not string enlugh tk host a demon offspring.”

Meanwhile Su Xiyan was too of her class almost Yue Qingyuan.

After hearing the draft, Shen Qjngqiu was crying.

Luo Binghe yelled “You made Shizun cry!”

Oh well at least he learned qinghua wasn’t related to his soon to be born son, Mobei-jun. It appeared Qinghua did that to protect himself when both Mobei-jun, who was also abused bejng kidnapped by Linguang-jun and Shen Qingqiu too weak to save him- so when all their siblings died he lived.

But after the cruelty kf Binghe and Mobei-jun wished he was dead instead kf a life as a host creating offspring when Luo Binghe realised the same problem and his father was facing.

Only strong cultivators can host a heavenly demon, the same strength as a peak lord.

And the cultivation world sent disciples…

Even so, Shen Yuan didnt mean too cry it was too tragic!

To think Tianglang-jun was fightjnf monsters body ripped tk shreds so of course he didn’t notice Qjngqius abuse to Binghe-

And then Qingqiu he had his own misunderstood arc.

He was a burden child and hated himself, and saw how honest and sweet Tianglang-jun was and how he was enslaved to the cultivators.

They were both prisoners and Shen Qjngqiu related and felt touched by that and thought it was unfair his life was over but tianglang-jun deserved better so he figured if he killed Binghe the reason Tianglang-jun was suffering then Tianglang-jun would be free.

So Tianglang-jun was blindsided and he lost his son but he was so busy he barely even got to know him.

Letting hinself die at his sons hands and uncaring of Shen Jiu’s death, feeling as if the man becane a stranger before his very eyes and instead kf behng angry, destirying the world…instead he became tired.

Shen Yuan found himself in his husbands arms, tears streaming down his face.

“Husband, whats the matter?”

Shen Qingqiu suddenly felt embarresed scrubbing at his face, “This one is fine, just told a sad story that moved me. Shang Qinghua is gifted and this one will have to sponser his pursuits in the arts if he so wishes to be a writer.”

Tianglang-jun hummed uncknvinced, as Shen Yuan released a shaky breath.

“Promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“You fight so much, for us, for your son Binghe. But one day you’ll turn around and see him as a man, his life passing like sand and you wint know him and he wont know you. Try, try for me to soend time with him. Do sonething tigether, make memories…”

Tianglang-Jun smiled pressing his lips to Shen Qingqiu’s neck hiding his smile and tears.

“Yes.”

_______________

So heres what Qinghua told him.

The Shens were a shady family whk dealt with demonic cultivation butvwere never exposed as such, too well hidden and acted like rich nobles.

The Lord and Master was called Wu Yanzi, but his civilian name would be Shen -something-Zhu

And he visited brothels and had a son calked Shen Jiu.

Xiao Jiu was raised by a women who wanted nothing to do with him and saw him as a burden. When she died and he was trapped in the brothel the women urged him to find his father or he would end up like them, he had the fave for it.

So when he found Master Shen.

The man sneered in derision at the audacity at this bastard of his, and to make sure he would never plague his doorstep or even dirty his name he sold Shen Jiu to another Lord, Qui Jianlou two towns over as far away as he could and the man did good on his word to travel even further away from the Shen estate.

But during that time, he found a servant but named Yue Ge-

But thats not important, Shen Jiu cane back to the shen estate older, stronger and strangely enough had cultivation and bloody.

He had massacred the entire Qui estate.

And Master Shen was proud and took Shen Jiu in for this showing, his own son was too weak to take over and Shen Jiu showed promise.

And to be unafraid to spill blood?

After fighting Shen Jiu was then sent to Cang Qiong mountain, and told if he failed to become peak lird to never come back.

And then it turns out that Master Shen had a sponsor a client who asked him to…get rid of conpetition and in turn he delivered as Wu Yanzi he killed Su Xiyan, poisoning her as she was with child but failed to kill the offspring as well.

Luo Binghe’s existence proved Tianglang-jun loved a human.

So Shen Qingqiu became a peak lord.

He only became such to escape, he only went to the shen estate because of his mother, and he only went there because thats all he knew.

And then was giving a mission sent by the huan hua master and his own father.

To kill Tianglang-jun.

But then he would be killed for treason. He laughed mirthlessly. As if he would do such a stupid thing.

He was a peak lord, he didnt have to answer to them anymore.

And his own peak lords sent him in- uncaring.

No matter what he was sold from one master to another.

When he embarresed himself as the old palace master called his name as first husband along with the other canditates, he blee up denying it.

The old palace master was told the vote was unanimous.

The peak lords had a meeting a voted him with shen qingqiu absent, with no say. They didnt look at him, most of all Yue Qingyuan.

Hurt, and publically shamed, Shen Qingqiu felt empty.

The peak spoke of unity, ascend together and all that.

He never realised he was sold from one master to another.

His wedding, he was barely paying attention. He let Tianglang-jun do whatever he wanted, it was no different than Qiu jianlou.

And when it appeared that Tianglang-jun was sweet in his rare moments-

How shocked Shen Qingqiu was to realise both where in the same boat.

His ire turned to Luo Binghe, his burden, same as how Shen Qingqiu was a burden…

Tianglang-jun was killing himself for this brat…why not free him of his obligation?

Or better yet, Qingqiu showed how dishonest he was that all humans would do nothing but hurt both of them for being demons.

He wanted Tianglang-jun to look at him.

He will not waste away in this palace like this. He hurt Binghe taking it out on the boy.

He tossed him into the abyss.

And still tianglang-jun did nothing, didnt hurt him or kill him instead of rage or anger it was apathy.

It infuriated Qingqiu.

But he never could give him a response, all the times he was kind, how he protected Qingqiu from his own father and the palace master.

Qingqiu had to repay that by helping Tianglang-jun settle a dispute with the northern clan.

They needed a host to carry Mobei-Juns offspring and not have his brother take the throne.

Qingqiu was willing.

But he didnt have the aptidude to be a mother so he let the clan take it and was done with it.

Mobei the youngest almost died, he was alone at Huan hua left there by his uncle and planned revenge on those who hurt him.

When his brother Binghe killed Qingqiu he felt nothing for the one who gave him life.

But kept one of Tianglang-Juns sons.

Just because…

Qui haitang mascaraded as a servant, helping Luo Binghe take revenge for her brother and became first wife.

And thus, with both Tianglang-Jun dead, Huan hua came in giving Binghe the same deal. Already marrying off the same women from one heavenly demon to another.

Luo Binghe had no plan outside his revenge but learned that the palace master was a sponser who made qingqiu marry the emporer.

And it was him that killed Su Xiyan so Luo Binghe kills him and the shens leaving Shen Qingqiu alone a husk in the dungeon. Knowing all if this was his fault…he laughed, they wanted an assasin to break the royal family apart he succeded.

_______

Shen Qingqiu tried to keep his excitement locked in, he barely let it show on the surface, he had shut his face down to keep the surprise a secret and yet his Emperor knew him too well it seemed.

“Hmm, is something the matter Husband?”

Dammit.

“Nothing.”

“You’re being quiet, should this Lord be worried.”

“It’s uh, nothing too bad. Can’t this one be happy his Emporer has some free time to spend with Binghe?”

Well sure he was happy for that he just loved seeing Binghe being spoiled by his father, it was healing for all the truama and angst he was subjected to read.

Seeing Tianglang-jun bounce Binghe on his leg and show him a new toy he found on his travels.

It defiently dimmed Shen Qingqiu’s mood.

It was the contract the heavenly demon signed, at sword point, to protect Binghe and the realms it was just unfair that he only had so many fleeting moments.

The two barely had time to even have a painting together…

Now that was a thought…

No, he mentally shook his head, he planned a speical day for both of them, they couldn’t leave the palace but Shen Qingqiu thought of the next best thing.

“Junshang, young Prince, this one has planned something just for the two of you.”

Tianglang-jun opened his mouth, he really didn’t like that Shen Qingqiu never called himself his husband or Binghe’s mother, he deserved the highest honour and he can be shameless if he wanted too, seeing him hold himself back and distance himself was heartbreaking-

But Tianglang-jun said nothing, maybe it was a boundary and his Husband only felt comfortable showing affection this way-

“What has Husband planned in mind?”

But Tianglang-jun wants it to be known that he values his First husbands time. The marriage may have been for political reasons both never having a choice or say in the matter but making the best of it.

And yet even though Shen Qingqiu could just wile away in his pavillion and even give the responsibility to someone else and do what he likes he never had to do so much as a husband to take care of them both.

“Well you both like stories, so this one had asked the servants to put on a performance for my Lord and the crown prince.”

Shen Qingqiu was a little nervous but Tianglang-jun and Binghe perked.

-cue the servants beinging a large tapestry with curtains and placing a stage in the courtyard, Shen Qingqiu took his Qiqan and sat and at the nod of the servants who wore cloaks to hide their costumes nodded, the performance began.

Shen Qingqiu played his instrument and began to narrate the story, and he made one up of Luo Binghe, the same story he used to trick the prince into reading.

He saw the prince perked and gave a secret smile as he told the adventures of Luo Binghe.

It was airplanes first chapter before he got cyber bullied then had to rewrite the whole story as some japanise cinderlla story.

But Shen Yuan liked it the story, but then realised by trying to get Luo Binghe to read he’d have to rewrite the whole thing.

As well as not mention Luo Binghe’s parents.

“Luo Binghe, after losing his mother kept the jade amulet close to his chest, he climbed the stairs if Cang Qiong-“

Luo Binghe gasped “That's the Sect Shizun is from!”

Shen Qingqiu smiled, “Correct.” He continued with the story anticipating the surprise, both Tianglang-jun was glued in fascinated with the show, and Shen Qingqiu was loving their expressions as he went into detail about Luo Binghe’s journey, bravery and perseverance at the trials.

“And then…” he began to pluck the strings but kept the melody on loop like a pause in the story

“Which peak should Luo Binghe go to?”

He did have to think on the fly, but luckily all the stories were the same at its core so it rarely mattered just changing the peak name-

“Shizuns peak!”

Shen Qingqiu smiled, “Very well, from the top of the summit a voice spoke after observing the hard working youth-“

“This one will be my disciple.”

And on the stage a man appeared, looking uncomfortable and borderline crying.

“Uncle!”

“Nephew!”

Both Tianglang-jun and Binghe gasped to see Zhuzhi-lang dressed as a peak lord.

He just came back and he admitted to Shen Qingqiu that Binghe’s birthday was coming up and they both planned this surprise.

“Shen Qingqiu was a harsh man,” Shen Qjngqiu reminded his wayward actor who stood up stiff.

“Borderline cruel, and when Luo Binghe came before him…”

Shen Qingqiu voice became melancholy and even the tube plucked sadly.

“He asked why Luo Binghe wanted to be a cultivator,” He played the notes slowly, on the stage both Zhuzhi-lang and Gongyi Xiao who was the same age as Binghe kneeled before the master in this story.

It’s all that Shen Qkmgqiu remembered of the first chapter and it was too sad, but he wanted to know what happened next but Airplane changed it, giving in to the masses.

He wondered if it was a good idea to use Binghe’s name…

“To make my mother proud.” Luo Binghe spoke, a smile on his face.

Both Tianglang-jun and Luo Binghe watched in bafflement as Zhuzhi-lang poured cold tea on Gongyi Xiao’s head and sneered.

“What a sorry sight to behold, no one would be proud of this.”

Gongyi Xiao had practised this and Shen Qingqiu asked a million times if he was okay and Gongyi Xiao nodded passioned.

And his acting payed off, Luo Binghe had tears in his eyes. Shen Qingqiu was worried for a moment but had to keep going it gets better Binghe! He promises!

“Luo Binghe had no idea what he did wrong, but his Shizun seemed to be very strict with him, talking back earned him a beating, failing to understand his manual? Another beating.”

They used shadow work for this part, and Gongyi Xiao’s pained cries was oscor worthy.

“But one day, Shen Qingqiu began to pace in his room, his qi fluctuating, and anger in his heart.”

Shen Qingqiu narrated and Zhuzhi-lang was playing this perfectly.

“What no one knew, and of course Shen Qingqou wouldn’t tell a soul. Was that he was not as lofty as he appeared, he himself had no mother, he had grown jelous of Luo Binghe and his potential. Shen Qingqiu was fit to qi deviations and had a faulty base, his own maritial siblings sneered down at him for it, and to see a child with potential, who had similar circumstances have the ability to surpass the master? Shen Qingqiu couldn’t bear it-“

Zhuzhi-lang coughed blood and fell over in a slump-

“Uncle!”

Luo Binghe looked like he was going to run over and see if he was alright.

“This one is fine young prince-“

“Zhuzhi-lang stay in character!” Shen Qingqiu snapped making the man flinch and slap back down on the ground.

Tianglang-jun laughed and it diffused the situation.

Maybe this was too subject heavy for Luo Binghe- he’ll do a romance story after.

“After being cared for, Shen Qingqiu had suffered a qi deviation. His…his brother stayed up with him, waiting for his Shidi to wake up.”

Shen Qingqiu still felt the lump in his throat of the betrayal but shook it off.

“Where is Luo Binghe?” The first thing that cane out of Shen Qingqiu’s mouth as he awoke, and his brother face fell.

“After you beat him isn’t he where he always is? In the woodshed?” His brother spoke.

And Shen Qingqiu felt his heart skip a beat.”

He played his qin, as the actors dragged in Gongyi Xiao to his knees and zhuzhi-lang face grimaced into pain and sympathy.

Shen Qingqiu began to pluck his strings more.

“Shen Qingqiu’s had died, the young master had perished and no one noticed. Even the anti-possesion talismans failed to pick up on such a thing. But the soul that was placed in the body of Shen Qingqiu knew Luo Binghe, it knew if he had a kind a caring master he would be the treasure of Qing Jing peak, a renowned cultivator and the pride of Cang Qiong Mountain, on the other hand if he was treat cruelly and these shadows unchanged he would come back swearing revenge on his Shizun and relaying that cruelty tenfold. The soul, easily masqueraded as the Scum Shizun with none the wiser and decided to be kind to the young disciple only to save itself, if this powerful person became indebted to him that was even better.”

All the actors bowed.

“And that concluded part one.”

Luo Binghe was crying, and Shen Qingqiu regretted using airplanes chapter for the first part no wonder so many people hated it.

“Shizun isn’t a villain that can’t be the end!” Even Tianglang-jun looked put out.

“That was too tragic, do humans always have such sad tales?”

Oh Shen Qingqiu laughed, as he moved over towards the two as the actors began to take the set apart.

“No this is an intermission. The play is in a couple parts, this is so you can have a break, drink, go to the bathroom or stretch your legs.”

Shen Qingqiu took a drink his own throat parched.

“Its also so the actors can change costumes for the next part.”

“But Shizun isn’t cruel…” Luo Binghe spoke and Shen Qjngqiu patted his head.

“And Luo Binghe was never raised in poverty, and had a washerwomen as a mother. This is a story but sometimes it’s based on peoples experiences. It has character arcs, and unreliable narration, things in books you’ll see, but this is also a learning tool for Binghe to learn that not all is at it seems that most people will say one thing then then their actions say something else.”

Tianglang-jun hummed “Of course, this lord doubts your Shizun would ever hurt you or even raise a hand against you.”

Shen Qingqiu’s face fell in guilt.

“This isn’t too scary for Binghe? This Shizun can tell a different story or use different names-“

“No- it’s just getting good!” Luo Bknghe pouted.

“It’s just…Shizun isn’t bad…”

Shen Qingqiu patted his head with a find huff.

“The Shizun in this story is…complex. Some people…don’t realise they are hurting others until it’s too late, its thanks to Binghe that his Shizun goes on a journey to become a better man, the student educates the teacher and all that.” Shen Qingqiu explained, then placed a hand to his lips.

“I’m saying too much, it’s time for the second part.”

After the messy beginning, this was when Shen Qingqiu really became passionate, it was what he envisioned for the continuation of PIDW.

But With the twist of a transmigrated soul, how the soul kept claiming that it only wanted Binghe to like him to save his own neck in the future when the time came, but would place itself in danger during the skinner attack, as well as the attack on Cang Qiong mountain and was then took the brunt if the attack saving Luo Binghe.

At first Shen Qingqiu thought of being hit with without a cure then felt embarrassed and how that would set up the story, so he lost his arm.

And then the next part as the qin picked up a battle tempo about how blth Binghe and Shen Qingqiu fought side by side at the Immortal alliance, Binghe was attacked by a monty Python rhino and fell down the cliff.

Shen Qingqiu tried to find him but his search was in vain, Luo Binghe had perished and Shen Qingqiu mourned making a burial mound and wasting away on his mountain.

It was his fault, he wasn’t strong enough to save Luo Binghe, his cultivation lacking and nothing but a hindrance he became more strict with his disciples needing them to get stronger and learning his lesson to never get attached ever again.”

Luo Binghe when he had fallen had fell into a pocket, it transported him to someplace else and when he found himself tumbling through a cave, sore but otherwise uninjured he sensed something and when he came forward using his spiritual qi to light the way he froze to see a man wrapped up in chains, trapped in this cave for years and someone who looked familair.

The man trapped beneath the mountain was tianlang-jun.

And curtains fell, and Shen Qingqiu took another drink, he could see both father and son were really getting into the story.

He had to include the emporer! A cute father son duo story they could bond oved this.

After the story, after seeing Luo Binghe falling asleep, Zhuzhi-lang offers to take him to bed.

Blushing when Tianglang-jun compliments his acting.

Shen Qingqiu fanned his face as he followed down the pathway, missing the starry eyed looks and gigles from his court.

“Does Master Shen like his new fan?”

Shen Qingqiu hummed, it was a gift from the emporer not only was it beautiful, it was even a spirtual weapon. After teh failed assasination attempt Tianglang-jun figured it’d be best if his husband was armed.

“Yes, it’s been very useful.” He praised, and Tianglang-jun preened.

It seems his nephew was right that his husband would like the fan.

He cleared his throat.

“If in the future, this Lord has free time…would he like to accompany this Lord to the town, I hear theres a play in production there about [the man and women who can only meet once a year for the doves wings etc]”

Shen Qingqiu brightened, “Yes! This Master thinks Binghe would enjoy a proper show, this one could only do so much, but Binghe needs to learn more than to life ohtside this courtyard.”

Tianglang-jun deflated a little, he only wanted to go with Master Shen, his nephew even lffered to babysit-

Although.

“Hmm Zhuzhi-lang should come too. Master Shen has been nothing but a diligent Shizun, but he deserves a break.”

Maybe it might make Shen Qingqiu anxious bejng away from his son, so a compromise sounds better.

So Tianglang-jun buys shen qingqius books for him as a surprise then blanches in horror when Shen Qingqiu says he’ll go to the bookstore. So in a panic Tianglang-jun pays more to make the owner close his shop only until the emporer leaves and payed him for his trouble-

No good for Master shen to pay for his books twice it was a surprise!

Alas when they went to get a meal, Tianglang-jun patted his pockets and realised he had no money.

Shen Qjngqiu laughed “Thank god the book store was closed.” Tianglang-jun wilted when Shen Qingqiu payed.

And he looked like a right idiot while he was at it.

So when they got home he requested Zhuzhi-lang reimburst.

“N-no its fine! It was your money anyway!”

Tianglang-jun took his hand, “Even so it was this Emporers fault for putting his husband in that position. Especially after asking Shen Qingqiu out in the first place, this one should be taking care of you and Binghe-“

“Silly, we’re partners. We can take care if each other.”

Tianglang-jun looked at him in wonder.

He wanted to kiss him. So so much.

And yet that would frighten his husband, he only felt confortable knowing it was fake and Tianglang-jun never wanted to ebar his heart more-

But he’s been burned before.

He retreated.

“Very well, you did enjky yourself?”

“Very much, yes.”

“Then the day wasnmt a conplete failure.” He laughed, and even when beinging a small chuckle from Shen Qingqiu he took hisbhand and kissed it.

“Goodnight, husband.”

Shen Qingqiu was stunned, Tianglang-jun leaving while Shen Qingqiu tried to pick up his face from the floor hiding behind his fan, When he walked into his room he saw the books piled on his desk with a note from his husband he checked them over mouth gaping in stunned surprise to know Tianglang-jun bought them-

Thats why the book store closed don’t say the emporer bought the entire shop!?

Even so, Shen Qingqiu placed the fan to his lips, cheeks flushed feeling too much at once.

What a silly demon. Too soft even the humans would take advantage of how sweet he was.

It made Shen Qingqiu feel even more to protect them, in anyway shape and form from the plot.

A/n: Ironic since the mindset of Shen Qingqiu had not changed, he figured one was a burden and should die to set Tianglang-jun free. Either it was Binghe in one life and in this one himself.

________________________________

When an assasination attenlt happened it was from a demon, from the south who like Qingqiu had the same idea.

Disgusted at the idea that the Heavenly Demon their soverign leader would bend over for the humans was too disgraceful!

So Elder Hammer who wore poison on his arm had managed to get into the courtyard declaring if the spawn didd Tianglang-jun would be free!

Of course as if Shen Qjngqiu would sit and nod going sure have fun while your at it-

No! All that hard work will not go to waste!

Using his qi and still training even if he was a pampered wife he waan’t a layabout!

He was a cultivator!

He kept Binghe close aiming sharpened bamboo blades and they shot forward slicing agajnst the demon and all his major arteries but someone that size and with demonic healjng it would only slow him down.

“Gongyi Xiao!”

He pushed Binghe into the young lads arms “take him down the servants quarters alert tianglang-jun!”

As Gingyi Xiao slipped away, Shen Qingqiu sealed the door ripping a tailsman.

Hopefully. Tianglang-jun might make it in time.

When Tianglang-jun gkt the summons he rushed back home, the old Palace master be damned!

Master Shen wouldn’t activate the emergency tailsman for something little- and he was right. Seeing his palace under seige he was able to make way striking down the rebellion as soon as he could.

Gongyi Xiao the elder ran forward.

“Junshang! Thank goodness!”

“What happened?”

And where were his generals? Where was Sha Hualing?

“Demons from the south charged the attack, Luo Binghe is hidden in the servant quarters but Master Shen.…”

Tianglang-juns heart seized.

Did he finally do it? Did Shen Qingqiu finally reveal his hand and tried to assasinate his child?

“Master Zhuzhi-lang barely got their in time- Shen Qingqiu is in the medical bay he was struck with without a cure!”

Tianglang-jun gaped-

“What?”

“Hurry! There isn’t much time!”

Since the rebellion were defeated, and Sha Hualing also dealt with and banished for her treason Tianglang-jun found Luo Binghe picking him up close and trying to soothe his tears as they bith made their way to the medical ward.

“The man was after me- and Shizun…”

Shizun…?

Is that what his husband told Luo Binghe to call him? Instead of father…it was probably a strange human custom.

When they entered Tianglang-jun masked his oresence and told Binghe to remain silent as bkth Qingqiu and the doctor was speaking.

“How much time do I have, months, days?” Shen Qingqiu spoke, bracing himself for the worst.

“You’ll live,” Mu Qingfang was their doctor who was requested to live in the palace and take care of allthe Emporers spouses.

“You’re cultivation however can halt at any time, someone has to cleanse your meridians nightly so you can ck tinye cultivating but Shixiong…you won’t be able to ascend or even progress your cultivation this way.”

“Thats fine, have you checked Binghe?”

“Binghe’s fine, had quiet a shock though.”

“Hmm, and it wont be the last, other demons and humans will stop at nothing to attack the royal family.”

“…shixiong, you can leave if it beckmes too much being struck with without a cure is grounds that the emporer is unfit to keep you safe-“

“It’s managable. And he came just in time, theres no need for such fuss.”

Tianglang-jun knocked and both Peak Lords straightened as he entered.

“See Binghe, he’s fine.” Tianglang-jun spoke placing the lad down and watching the toddler climb up Shen Qingqiu’s lap, the other adjusting his son and resting back against the pillows looking soft.

Tianglang-jun couldn’t explain what he was feeling, only frustration that he didnmt cone in time.

Shen Qingqiu’s arm was bandaged and bleeding, Tianglang-jun used his blood larasites to scope the area and felt without a cure festering away at the limb, if it continues the man could lose the use of his arm-

The blood larasites swarmed eating the poison, and using the energy to heal the wound.

“Binghe was so brave.” Shen Qjngqiu spoke looking at his son with pride, a shane his son didnt share the sentiment.

“Shizun was hurt.”

Shen Qingqiu laughed, “this? This is nothing this Master has had worse.”

And everyone in the rolm believed it.

Luo Binghe more so when he began to cry.

“Shizun should never be hurt!”

Shen Qingqiu awkardly held his son clise but patted his back making cooing noises, Tianglang-jun asked to see the doctor alone.

“There is a cure for without a cure- but it’s unconventinal.”

Mu Qingfangs eyes widened “What-“

“Duel cultivation with a heavenly demon.

But Shen Qingqiu even with threat of death doesnt seem confortable with men. This Lord has respected such wishes, perhaps theres a way Mu Qinggang can convert such things to a pill for him to ingest instead.”

Mu Qingfangs hummed, “it depends on how Dual Cultivation works, is it the dual energies, or kther attributes we’ll try it one way but if that doesn’t work, this one will have to tell his Shixiong even if he’s uncknfortable it coukd save his life.”

“Only if he agree’s.”

_____

“Ah…” Shen Qingqiu stared at the packed and Mu Qjngfang lokked serious.

“Take two a day, if Without a cure doesn’t subside then there’s the next option.”

“Which is?”

“Duel cultivation with a heavenly demon.”

“Ah.”

Shen Qingqiu tyoe of embarresment was different to others instead of blushing a bright red, instead he became quiet. Too many enotions to appear on the surface so none show on his face.

“Do I…swallow them?”

“No…” Mu Qingfangs eyes flickered down and Shen Qingqiu became more pale.

“Ah, right.”

“Does this Doctor have to explain-“

“N-no need this one understands.”

Dear lord.

When Shen Qingqiu had a bath and prepared for bed he glanced at the two pills placing one on the tip of his finger.

He took a breath, think it could be the heavenly pillar its just a tiny pill he’ll be fine!

But imagining Tianglang-jun doing such a thing, Shen Qingqiu wasn’t blind the man was handsome!

But even so, he loved Su Xiyan. This was just a political marriage and havjng the man gaze at him with nothing but enptiness in his eyes…

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t bear it.

But if he inagined his emporer on the second dose and ended up going further than he should, thats between him and god.

Thankfully it only required two doses as he awoke feeling lighter like going to bed with a migraine and waking up with it gone!

He told Mu Qingfang, ecstatic and the healer checked his meridians-

And when Mu Qingfang asked Tianglang-jun to supply him more of the ‘cure’ he was met with a dry look.

“Good doctor, it’s hard enough to satisfy my wives to bear more heirs when this lord wants nothing of the sort, I don’t think its physically possible.”

Tianglang-jun was already givjng wverything he could to the cultivation world he wouldn’t be surprised if he died they would take his body apart and make cultivation materials from his own body!

Mu Qinggang hummed, a bit miffed that someone who had the cure did nothing for others.

Although…he did supply a lot for Shen Qkngqiu, Mu Qjngfang had the thiught it the two just got over it and Duel cultivated both would have another mini Binghe on the way.

…huh…now thats a thought…

_________________________

Tianglang-jun didn’t like his wives, and the feeling was mutual. It wasn’t hatred just nuetral bordeom.

He was a lover of the arts, while they were warriors nothing in common at all.

When they said it didn’t take and he had no new heirs a weight lifyed of his shoulders then dread that he would have to do it all over again.

And worse he was havimg mutinous thoughts of moving Shen Qingqiu and his son into the Sun Pavillion.

The pavillion he made for Su Xiyan. It was their home, where she was expected to live and all of them would be a family.

It didn’t feel right, having Shen Qingqiu who stepped up in place as a mother and took care kf not knly Binghe but Tianglang-jun asking for nothing in return.

He wasnt replacing Su Xiyan, but he felt it fair to word for Shen Qjngqius efforts.

But then their was his first wife, Qin Wanyrue.

The miscarriage. The girl was under a lot of pressure from her sect and from the cultivation world, the stress unbearable she was the one who lied about having a son and in a panic both adopted Gongyi Xiao.

Then Tianglang-jun decided to use miracle elixers and yes children were born…but they weren’t demons.

For a demonic energy to be hosted by humans of spirtual energy it just wasn’t possible…

And it appeared there was some type of race whoever had a baby second to Luo Binghe would reflect on the cultivation world.

Even a lie, Huan hua were smug they had a child first [With Qin Wanyrue and Gongi Xiao only as the figure heads the palace master and princess would be in power pulling the strings once the demon emporer died]

Tianglang-jun noticed during the demon invasion most kf the servants were collatoral- so many children left without parents.

So he gave them to the wives and told them to pretend. Until further solutions came it would shut up the sects, even so it wasn’t looking good for only one heavenly demon child and tge rest were human.

The cultivation world will have to settle on human Princes and demon kings. No matter what Binghe will he the next emporer wether they liked it or not, but to appease the sects he tood them the order of princes since the sects were also butting heads on who was better.

He told them the order of wives.

So Gongyi Xiao was now raised under Qin wanrong.

Ming Fan under Ning Yingying.

And Yue Zixian under Liu Mingyan.

And Shang Xihua for Qui Haitang.

The last prince and the royal familys lunshing bag.

Now they could all breathe.

______________________________

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t believe it- so they weren’t even Binghe’s siblings!?

Although the bullying under Shen Qingqiu and suddenly having servants treat the crown prince cruelly no wonder Luo Binghe was pissed.

And the ones with elixers- the wives just reproduced asexually!!! They weren’t tianglang-juns at all!

Until one day, Tianglang-jun said he had a surprise for him. Most majority of his husbands surprises have never failed before.

“This Emporor invited your brother for tea,” He moved Shen Qingqius chair as he stood gaping at the imposing figure.

Well…there can be exceptions.

“This husband has been hogging Master Shen it appears this one has failed to be filial to his brother in law!”

Tianglang-jun kissed Shen Qingqiu on the head, “let this lord know if uou need me.” And activated a silence barriar for bkth him and the sect leader Yue Qingyuan.

…he bet Zhuzhi-lang put something ridicoulous in that mans head.

“Shen-Shidi, you are looking well.”

Shen Qingqiu glared at him over his fan, still feeling the sting as his sect siblings had turned their back on him.

“Is Shidi going to talk to me?”

“You betrayed me.”

You wouldn’t know who was more surprised, Yue Qingyuan or Shen Qingqiu.

The words slipped out, almost as if the original goods came back to spit curses at his sect leader.

“...Shen-Shidi-”

“You just decided…to marry off this master instead of yourself, without consulting this Master at all, my own Peak dissolved and you let this Master humiliate himself in front of the entire cultivation world by calling it into question and not once were you transparent.”

Shen Yuan tried, before the conference, thinking if he just…changed and proved he was a good Shidi and was polite and helpful to his siblings showing maybe if he wasn’t married he wouldn’t then be in such a position and they can all avoid Luo Binghe destroying them all. Or at least, they would include him in the meeting…ask- they threw Shen Jiu under the bus and Shen Yuan thought the Scum deserved it, he was crooked a villain and now? Now he realised that the entire Cang Qiong were never a family, he let his expression show, and if Tianglang-jun was peeping in on them would realise how much of a mistake this was.

“This Master had no choice-”

“What? Too many voices saying how much they want to get rid of me? At least Qi Qingqi would make sense as she was a women and the cultivation world was looking for wives- did you hate me that much? Glad to finally get rid of such a burden?”

Maybe Shen Jiu was right, and saw through the polite mask and knew that the mountain hated him, wanted him gone-

Yue Qingyuan sighed closing his eyes, looking pained, and for a moment Shen Qingqiu faltered feeling bad then straightened not showing weakness.

“This one, if he had the power, never wanted Shen-Shidi to go. No one was happy with the vote and no one was pleased about keeping you in the dark.”

Yue Qingyuans eyes opened looking him in the eyes, “It was this Qingyuans choice to keep Shen-Shidi in the dark, to make it more believable.”

“Believable? What on earth are you talking about!?”

“This Masters hands were tied- Shen Qingqiu, the Sect Leaders kept it quiet, but the threat of Tianglang-Jun was more severe than it lead the world to believe and…other information came to light.”

Shen Qingqius eyes narrowed, “What information?”

Yue Qingyuan looked away then spoke, “Shen Shidi is the master strategist and has been doing well by integrating here as First Husband, he was the best choice to survive in this type of environment-”

“You are changing the subject, if you think evading the topic will make it easier it won’t, if you continue to talk in circles this Qingqiu see’s no point in talking to you civil like, it’d be best you leave.” Shen Qingqiu snapped.

“Shen-Shidi-”

“Keeping this one ignorant will create more danger, so just tell me.”

Yue Qingyuan gaped then sighed, “Shen-Shidi was blackmailed, if he wasn’t sent as a candidate to The Heavenly Palace.”

“...What?”

Yue Qingyuans smile was rueful “As a…lower concubine in a less ostentatious pavilion, Cang Qiong agreed…it wasn’t our fault we couldn’t foresee the emperor…favouring Shen-Shidi so and making him first husband.”

Wait…no, he was already promised the role of first husband as-oh…

They had no choice to give him up- but they damn well made sure he was ‘comfortable’ so what nodded and pretended they would do as the blackmailed said but actually put Shen Qingqiu in their eyes somewhere safer, like a witness protection program raising a middle finger to the blackmailer while they were at it.

“And Shidi showed no intention of hurting the emperor, and this one figured Tianglang-jun had more power and resources to keep Shen-Shidi safe.”

“Safe from what?”

“Shen Qingqius past. The blackmailer had evidence of Shen Qingqiu’s family, and their ties to demonic cultivation. Once that comes to light Cang Qiong mountain couldn’t protect Shidi from these allegations.”

…”You have no idea who sent the blackmail?”

“We are still looking into it, and the Shen Family at least your father has already been exposed as Wu Yanzi.”

Shen Qingqiu’s eyes widened behind his fan- the hell? What type of plot twist was that!?

The only thing he knew was that Wu Yanzi assisanted…the empress.

His face paled, his father killed Tianglang-juns wife.

“Already Shidi has proven his blackmailers wrong, if he was the son of an assassin and followed in his footsteps both Tianglang-jun or Luo Binghe would be dead by now,” Yue Qingyuan spoke.

It’s true it’s been years, and Luo Binghe was already sixteen, just another year for the immortal alliance conference to show off the princes skills as well as neighbouring Sects in a show of goodwill and talent.

Even so, Shen Qingqiu was sent as an assassin? And Cang Qiong agreed to it only knowing that Tianglang-jun would keep Shen Qingqiu safe-

Huh, it just shows what happens in the palace stays in the palace, no one knew of the assasination attempts on both Binghe and his own life!

He literally suffered from without a cure! He could’ve died!

Yue Qingyuan- the best Big Brother someone in another life could ask for, and Shen Qingqiu did still feel fod for him.

Felt even more awful knowing he only had good intentions. Yue Qingyuan only saw the good aspects- argh

When Shen Qingqiu only spoke highly and favourably of Tianglang-jun and his idolisation of Su Xiyan- it was only proving to others that he wouldn’t kill the royal family!

Ugh! Imagine if he was an assassin!

They make it too easy! Although same rules apply, if he was caught then he would be in trouble meanwhile the blackmailers would be fine.

“What if my father?”

“Dead. For his crimes, most of the Shen Estate has payed for it as well, the cultivation world has even demanded you as well but being the favoured first husband…”

Shen Qingqiu hummed closing his fan.

But inside? To think he just sailed by death without even realising- Yue Qingyuan these talks aren’t good for his Heart!

“What else?”

“By pretending to cut of ties with Shidi, cang Qiong was watching the other sects and who would be most suspicious, when the information came to light about Wu Yanzi, it came from Huan Hua.”

…hah! He knew it! Shen Yuan KNEW their was buildup from the original story that airplane forgot about!

“The only reason Huan Hua had information is because they are the ones who had the Shen Estate under their payroll.” Shen Qingqiu hypothosised.

His brow furrowed.

“But exposing Wu Yanzi after all those years of servitude? And only realising that this Shidi has no plan to harm the royal family is suspicious…if the goal os to eliminate Tianglamg-jun and his heirs and you get rid of the only trump card means that Huan hua-if they are the peritrators- have found someone else.”

“Who?”

“This one…doesn’t know.”

He honestly knew nothing about Shen Jiu’s past- hell he didn't even know he was raised to be an assassin- it was so conflicting.

He thought he was the son of a rich family a spoiled noble and yet some chapters hinted at Shen Jiu being an orphan-and if he didn't figure this out soon he could lose everything.

Yue Qingyuan looked down.

“This Qingyuan…this one had no intention of upsetting Shen Qingqiu or making him believe Cang Qiong didn’t want you- the opposite. Everyone wanted you to stay but knew barely keeping Tianglang-jun contained was a miracle-“

“You don’t have to explain- but…someone is going to attack Tianglang-jun or myself. And this one can’t gather information outside this palace. You’ll have to be my eyes and ears. Can you do that?”

Yue Qingyuan perked up, “Yes. Anything Xi-Shen Shidi commands this Master will do everything in his power to do so.”

Once he left both bowing and Tianglang-jun joking about his next visit Shen Qingqiu gave him an amused smile.

With Yue Qingyuan gone did he finally tease.

“So you heard everything huh?”

Tianglang-jun sighed, “Yes it was so disappointingly boring, this Lord thought my husband would wax poetry about his handsome emporer and how lucky he was to have me and yet it was politics.” He stuck his to gue out and Shen Qingqiu gaped.

“Did you stop listening halfway through?”

“Yes, was it important? Did you tell that young man how great of a husband this Lord is?”

Shen Qingqiu was unsure if he was being serious enough.

“Well handsome enough to not enact an assasination attempt then yes.”

“Huh? Assasination? Husband!”

He hit him with his fan “So you wern’t listening! Always be vigilant!”

“Why!?” Tianglang-jun was fake crying, “I trust my husband!”

And that…shouldn’t break his heart as it should even Tianglang-juns teasing smile faded.

“You shouldn’t- even with me you shoukd never let your guard down with anyone, especially not me.”

Tianglang-jun hummed, “yes yes, my little assassin. Ah I remember now all those time you tried to kill me…with kindness.”

“This Master is being serious.”

“So is this emperor.” He said in the most unserious tone ever.

“Ugh, you are so frustrating.” It slipped out, but Tianglang-Jun looked even more proud to not take this seriously at all- how is he not dead yet or buried in a ditch somewhere!?

“Husband loves me so.” He spoke, with nothing but pure joy at the fact.

…It this was Shen Jiu who was the assassin then this would’ve been so easy.

_______________________________________________________________________

When it was revealed- Shen Qingqiu couldn’t wait to tell Binghe about his new baby brother on the way, Binghe was busy following in his fathers footsteps going out and sending a commands with Gongyi Xiao as his general. Both were making headway with the sowers and doing pretty well.

But Binghe always cried begging his Shizun for a little brother, and after talking with Mobei the Elder they had finally did it. And Shen Qingqiu held off telling Binghe until after- he was still freakin out about it unlike girls he was never really emotionally prepared for kids or even hosting them he was going to tell Binghe after, it was going so well!

But when Qui Haitang showed her hand trying to kill Binghe, to hurt Qingqiu like how the scum villain killed her brother.

“You stole my life from me! Now this Haitang will return the favour!” Binghe fell, but not before he lashed out, grabbing Haitang and pulling her with him into the abyss!

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t breathe- he stumbled forward throat burning and realising he was screaming, the abyss snapped shut before he could even make it to the edge.

Shen Qingqiu suffered a qi deviation. At the death of Luo Binghe [if the cultivation world thought he did it, they were all witness to his state] He was alone in his pavilion, knowing Luo Binghe would return but he thought he spared him his fate- he didn’t push him in but if he knew there was some way- he would prepare him!

He created a quqin it was for Binghe- he wanted to gift it to him but now…when he came to it was destroyed so he started recarving the wood and remaking it- the servants unsure how to proceed when he told him it was for Binghe it had to be better-

Then one day, he realised something…something was missing.

He placed his hand onto his stomach…feeling nothing- he panicked- no, don’t say he lost them both-

He ran around frantically, the servants stopping him “Master Shen what is the matter-”

“M-Mobei what happened to Mobei!” He was not hysterical. There was a gap in his memory, it was like he was asleep and now wide awake he couldn’t remember what happened at the abyss but what happened to the child!?

“Get the Emperor now!”

“Master Shen, please calm down!”

And he realised something even more horrifying. He did not recognise the staff, not one person. Had they changed staff or- where was Gongyi Xiao? Where was the young princes?

When Tianglang-Jun finally found him, Shen Qingqiu stared eyes wide. Tianglang-Jun looked just as bad as he felt. “Husband.” Shen Qingqiu’s eyes burned, but this was important. “What happened to Mobei?”

Tianglang-Jun lips pressed together and Shen Qingqiu’s legs buckled, Tianglang-jun grabbed him before Shen Qingqiu could steady himself “I lost him?” Shen Qingqiu’s voice wheezed-

He already failed him once by losing Binghe and now Mobei-Jun as well? He had one job-

“Husband you didn’t lose him Mobei-Jun is healthy and alive with his father!”

“What?” but how-

“The Qi deviation set the delivery early, husband was not…well to raise him. His Father requested Mobei be placed in his custody.”

Probably messed that up making Tianglang-jun have to fix his messes, Shen Qingqiu should be taking care of him.

“This one made a mess of things-”

“Husband did not,” Tianglang-jun gathered him close fully supporting his weight. “Husband did nothing wrong, but please-” His voice sounded wrecked, and it broke Shen Qingqius heart to hear it. “Come back to me.”

What?

Then Shen Qingqiu stiffened, “H-how long has it been?”

“A couple months now-”

Shen Qingqius eyes widened in horror, months- Tianglang-jun cupped his face-

“Please, don’t go away again-”

Shen Qingqiu snapped out of it shaking his head and latching onto the emperors hand “It’s fine- this Master is okay now.”

He left Tianglang-jun to deal with this alone- he was a terrible husband! He knew Binghe was coming back if he could slap himself in the face he would- wait.

…There was a moment where Shen Qingqiu after getting rid of Luo Binghe took Mobei to his home to see his future kingdom since Tianglang-jun was grieving for Luo Binghe [and celebrating his freedom since the contract was now void]

And Mobei-Jun was kidnapped by Huan Hua because of Linguan-jun which meant-

“Husband- can this one…visit Mobei-Jun and apologise for the mess to the Northern King?”

Tianglang-jun wanted to say no, but after seeing Shen Qingqius face and finally seeing that light in his eyes again, he couldn’t say no.

-saving MBJ from Huan Hua- Teaching Mobei-Jun to be less rough- importance of being gentle and strength.

After hearing the news that Mobei-Jun was missing, Shen Qingqiu knew he couldn’t just barge down Huan Hua doors with no proof and no idea where his son even was!

So when he vanished leaving Tianglang-jun in a fright wondering where his husband disappeared off to- Shen Qingqiu donned a disguise and made his way to the south, after going to an inn to pay for some food and gossip he barely had to spare a coin as a bunch of Huan Hua disciples laughed about the little demon they had in their dungeon and how fun it was to mess with-

Shen Qingqiu barely bothered to remain, anger and frustration with himself, others would look back on that day and would say he was like a demon-

How the great Master and Husband of Tianglang-jun blasted down the doors to Huan Hua disarming cultivators and easily invading the sect.

Most thought he lost his mind, other sects coming to arms along with Cang Qiong to see Shen Qingqiu enraged holding a demon child in his arms.

“May Huan Hua explain why they have my son in their dungeons!” He yelled for the whole world to hear.

After that Cang Qiong knew by the look that was a northern demon, everyone thought the baby perished but to see the man hold the child, Yue Qingyuan stepped in shielding Shen Qingqiu who looked ready to murder anyone who even so much as comes close.

And thats when the demons arrived.

Overall Shen Qingqiu’s reputation with the demons skyrocketed, even Mobei-Jun the elder had approved finally giving his blessing to have the Southern Emperor and his Spouse raise Mobei-Jun. The youngest looking up at wonder at the one who gave his life and saved it.

The cold glare and frost directed at his uncle suddenly warmed when his eyes gazed at him. Mobei-jun never knew warmth until that moment.

It was drastically different living at the southern Palace instead of the north. Shen Qingqiu wrapped in layers and moved into a colder pavilion for Mobei-Jun.

Shang Qinghua always frequented being a playmate for young Mobei-Jun, Shen Qingqiu even made it mandatory.

Qinghua didn’t like this “When I wrote the character, I loved him, but this Qinghua had no clue how much of a spoiled brat he was.”

Shen Qingqiu paused and gazed at Qinghua shrewdly.

“...Bro? Why are you staring at me?”

“Shang Qinghua and Mobei-Jun married in the original story, yes?”

“Uh yeah?” Shang Qinghua looked adorably confused, but Shen Qingqiu wasn’t sure who to be upset at or if he even should be wary in the first place.

“And he’s your favourite character?” “Yes- what is this about?” “Are you planning on marrying Mobei-Jun in the future?”

Shang Qinghua stared, “Bro don’t even joke about that-”

“Because your related? Why did you write such a thing?”

Shang Qinghua almost physically jumped in the air “Wait- no- we’re not related Tianglang-jun is not my father!”

He squeaked now Shen Qingqiu’s gaze narrowed “What?”

[Qinghua explained that none of the children are the father except for Mobei-Jun and Binghe.]

“HUh? HOW!?”

“Strong cultivators who can take demonic energy. Su Xiyan was strong enough to host a demonic offspring and so could Yue Qingyuan if he wanted- but Shen Qingqiu,” “This Master’s cultivation isn’t that strong,” he suffered from Qi deviations all the time so QInghua wiggled under his stare.

“Well it was thanks to Wu Yanzi, Shen Qingqius body had suffered demonic cultivation as a base and uh…Wu Yanzi never wanted Shen Qingqiu recognised as his son so he basically molded him to be a cauldron…your body was literally made for this although…Wu Yanzi probably didn’t intend you to birth the new Royal family.”

Shen Qingqiu might strangle him “Why did you not write this?”

“Well I was! But you saw how people responded to my first draft! So I played it safe!”

Anyway, Shen Qingqiu raised the two together, even though Qinghua would pull faces and pick up Mobei-Jun and play even when he looked tired it still made Shen Qingqiu feel at ease that someone was looking after Mobei-Jun.

Although the two having a fight was to be expected.

“Your a spoiled brat!” Shang Qinghua yelled, he looked pretty mad- When Shen Qingqiu came over his mouth fell open at the ripped paper on the floor and Qinghua in tears.

“I’m never talking to you ever again!” He ran away before Shen Qingqiu could even ask what was going on, tears in his eyes.

Mobei-jun glared at the paper, “This prince wanted that.” he pointed at the paper ripped on the floor, oh Shen Qingqiu sighed as he picked Mobei-Jun up and asked the servants to clean up the paper and try to fix it if they could.

It seems he spoiled Mobei-Jun too much,

But unlike Binghe who soaked up attention and tried to be better, Mobei-Jun wasn’t learning the same way the two couldn’t be more different. He was a quiet child and didn’t speak much so it was hard to tell if something was wrong until it was too late.

Tianglang-Jun even joked about it, “He’s more like Xiyans son than Binghe.” Then grimaced, Shen Qingqiu smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes “Yes, he might need to go to the demon clan with you instead. This one has taught him everything he can but Mobei-Jun must be stifling in this pavilion.”

And Mobei-Jun wasn’t interested in the same things the family was, plays that used to make Binghe laugh? Mobei-Jun saw no point. Stories? He could never quiet understand the story and took it at face value.

So Shen Qingqiu decided another outlet was probably better. He began teaching Mobei-Jun to fight.

And that improved his mood alot, his expressions were slight but he could tell when Mobei-Jun was happy or upset. Of course Shen Qingqiu could only teach him so much…

When he came back from huants with his Father, Mobei-Jun was…bigger. When asked spiritually made children aged faster but mentally were still a child but Shen Qingqiu ended up treating Mobei-Jun like he was smarter than he was. Mobei-Jun seemed to like being treat like an adult even if he was only a couple years old. He was half Shen Qingqius height and was taught how to fight and defend himself.

He saw nothing wrong with this until one day, he found Mobei-Jun beating up and hitting Shang Qinghua.

Shen Qingqiu immediately put a stop to it, and even yelled at Mobei-Jun and of course the boy had frustrated tears in his eyes and it was the first time he cried and for a moment Shen Qingqiu almost softened then hardened his heart.

Shang Qinghua face was swollen and kept flinching around Mobei-Jun it had to stop.

“Humans are more weaker than Demons- and hitting others is not okay.”

Mobei-Jun only looked more frustrated and confused.

So Shen Qingqiu had to explain that in demon society fighting was about dominance, showing strength or even polite depending on the clan. But humans don’t like being hit, he had to be more gentle.

Mobei-Jun saw no point in this.

“How can this one know his partner is strong, if he can’t handle a few beatings.”

“Who told you that?” No way Mobei-Jun thought this nonsense up himself,

So Shen Qingqiu ends up giving Mobei-Jun a fruit, that he had to peel without destroying it. Shen Qingqiu peels it easily and Mobei-jun is frustrated that he can’t do such a simple thing.

And Shen Qingqiu wanted him to learn a lesson but when he sees Mobei-jun trying to peel the fruit everyday looking frustrated Shen Qingqiu had an idea.

“Mobei-jun can you break this fruit for me.” Shen Qingqiu watches how Mobei-jun easily does such a thing and Shen Qingqiu eats it offering him a piece.

And then Mobei-jun watches Shen Qingqiu struggle.

Blth try for days until one day, Shen Qingqiu breaks it looking proud and smug. Mobei-jun gapes.

“See? Still think this master is weak now?”

Mobei-jun never thought this man who gave him life was weak, he remembered how he saved him from that hot and awful dungeon.

But if his Mama could open the fruit, then Mobei-jun can do it too. If humans can work hard to be strong, then demons can strive to be gentle. Humans strength couldn’t be measured the same.

Mobei-jun finally peeled the fruit.

And he gave it to Qinghua who flinched then stared at the fruit confused and even unsure.

“For you.”

“Oh…thanks?” He saw cucumber bro giving him a thumbs up and was completely lost but took it and even ate a piece when Mobei-juns staring became unnerving.

What the hell was that about?

___

Anyway- Old Palace Master admitting to funding wu yanzi and his illegal activities.

-Luo Binghe returning from the abyss thinking Shen Qimgqiu and his father replaced him esp with Mobei-jun calling Qingqiu ‘mama’ something Luo Binghe could never call Qingqiu but Mobei-jun can?

-Shen Jiu is reborn as a son. He and qingqiu talk that he never saw Tianglang-jun that way he was already in love with someone and when Tianglang-jun took care of him it felt transactional he had to because they were husbands if he abused Qingqiuthe cultivation world will strike.

Tianglang-jun on the rare occasions he could surprise his cute husband and son, usually struggled trying to get gifts for his hisband he got him so many thkngs but Shen Qingqiu would sniff uniterested and said it woukd clutter up his storage and if its out kf sight? What use was it? He was tricky, but then he heard him talkimgbwith Qinghua one day. After adopting him once haitang vanished the two got closer- he overheard his husbands love for demonic beasts.

Shen Qingqiu eyes widened “Husband! Do you like it!”

Give head lats please- no Even if your the emporeor you can’t just make your own demon zoo on a whim!

“Do you want to pet him?”

Shen Qingqiu’s fingers itched, he could pet a monty python rhinoceros!?!?!?!?

“Very well simce Husband went through the trouble.”

Tianglang-jun guided his hands and watched how gentle his husband was and cooed at the beast.

And he was holding his hand. Win win.

-Qingqiu gives Tianglang-jun a painting of Su Xiyan- talk that qingqiu is not replacing xiyan that he will hold her in his heart but qingqiu has done nothing but be the best husband and risen up to the occasion without asking for anything back? That tianglang-jun wants to spoil him, know his husband learn about him and talk through the night about the recent yellow books they’re just read how he could just watch Qingqiu rant and become impassioned and tear the book to shreds Tianglang-jun agrees but feels more flexible with the story but can see the issues meanwhile qingqiu looks like he would tear someones head of for it.

Tinaglang-jun clasps his hands telling him he wants to marry Qingqiu, not for political reasons, not for ulterior motives. He wants to spend the rest of his life trying fo figure out his husband and keep him by his side with the possesivness of a demon.

And Shen Qingqiu burns red unsure how to take this as far as he knows this cane out of nowhere!

Tianglang-jun tells him he wants to marry Shen Qingqiu if he’ll have him.

T-there are plenty of people-

All the marriages are dissolved. Without binghe theres nothing keeping me here in the human realm, the cultivators can’t use me for their own agendas anymore there is nothing for me here.

Except for you. Even if you don’t want to marry this emporer and want to remain friends this one will gladly stay for you, where you go this one will follow!

Shen Qingqiu needed to sit down- or pikch himself to wake up.

But…marriages…dissolved- Binghe was missing years ago he could’ve left any time but he stayed…

And the thought kf waking up without Tianglang-jun… the time he can finally no longer go on missions or be in court and wake up spoiled in his husbands bed-

Qingqiu wanted that. He wanted that all the time.

“Yes.”

The thought of going home to the sect- but no…they didn’t want him. If Tianglang-jun dismissed him Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t return. Blackmail or no- they proved they would never defend him or they wished they could but had to appease those in power. Yue Qingyuan always did that tried to appease both side with that smile on his face and mitigate the damage.

But Tianglang-jun wants him to stay, even at the thought of being free and could easily remove this burden its the one chain he wants to keep his arm wrapped in.

Tianglang-jun was waxing poetry about his hair but paused “yes?”

When he said yes, it held everything he dared to believe his fear his hope, and longing. He wanted to stay, and Tianglang-jun saw it in his eyes, feeling breathless and elated unable to believe that his husband said yes!

“Yes.” Shen Qingqiu nodded, with more strength and confidence, then smiled. “A demon wedding.”

Tianglang-juns eyes widened “Are you sure? Demons will try to kidnap you-“

Shen Qingqku raised an eyebrow “Will they? Or will they kidnap my husband instead.” He placed a hand on Tianglang-juns chest that was always too low and exposed skin and slid up.

“Maybe this Qingqiu will have to rescue you…”

“Husband-“

Shen Qingqiu pushed him away.

“Ah ah, not until the wedding. We shouldn’t even be talking without a chaperone.”

Tianglang-jun gaped “Husband!”

Afterall they didnmg really consumate the marriage so his honlur was still on the line.

-Shen qingqiu forgot one thing…if Binghes pillar was large enough to be called heavenly then his fathers pillar would be…

…

“T-this one will go on top instead…” the room felt loud in its silence as Shen Qingqiu gaped.

“You don’t have to look too pleased ablut it!”

__________

“Just this one…just for us, after all Mobei-jun is staying at the northern palace longer establishing his rule…”

Tianglang-jun pouted “I could help! But he’s embarresed by his dad…”

Shen Qingqiu leaned on him, turns out lying on top and smothering Tianglang-jun calms him down like a dog with anxiety needing a vest.

“He wants to do it with his own strength. He has this strange fascination with being string but its not for strength sake he’s growing up so fast.”

“Yes soon it’ll just be us too in the sun pavillion.”

“…what if this husband and you…make another…”

“Anlther what?”

“Anotger one a sibling to mobei-jun.”

Tianglang-juns hands clenched on his arms still gentle “husband?”

“Just ours. No reason, or political gain, just ours.” Shen Qingqiu hummed, “Luo Binghe always wanted a little brother he’ll be excited when he gets back”

Tianglang-jun hands touched his face concerned “Qingqiu?”

“He’ll come back. This one knows it.” Luo Binghe survives the abyss he knows he will.

___

“Whats the name of our lotus?” Tianglang-jun asked and Shen Qingqiu hummed “How about Shen Jiu, or would you want your name?”

Tianglang-jun laughed, “Until its my turn to make offspring then this lord will name them- this lord likes Shen Jiu.”

…

“It’s funny how even this one acts with the same cold brutality of my Xiyan.” Yeah it was odd then again it could be the body of the scum villain making them all what? Dna of the evil stepmother making them evil? He hoped not.

“They’ll thaw out after a while.” He hummed leaning against Tianglang-jun.

When Shen Qingqiu prepared for bed his one year old now standing stared at him, scissors in hand. Shen Qingqiu tensed.

“Baobei, hmm lets put the scissors down its sharp-“

The kne year old raised it.

“Who you calling baobei fake! Thats my body!” Huh?

“One moment its me whose married to that fool now its you!?”

Shen Qingqij snatched the scissors tossing them and picked up the baby.

“Shen Jiu!?”

“You even called me that name??? Die! Die by a thousand arrows!”

Tears streamed down the babys face and he began to cry.

Binghe was so much better than this he could hear the jokes now “I’m the one that made the parents want more kids- you’re the one that made them stop!”

“Shh shh, its alright…”

“It’s not that beast will come back and kill us!”

“He won’t. Binghe’s a good boy and a great big brother. Shh, dry those tears.”

When Binghe was being…difficult, even he was too much of a sweet bun to leave an impact.

Shen Jiu on the other hand was like the tasmanian devil!

Any sharp object had to be hidden the pavillion child proof and Shen Jiu had a strange habit of biting so Shen Qingqiu commisioned a teething ring for him.

Overall he was tired.

And the worst part?

He calmed down with tianglang-jun, going limp and floppy in the mans arms sucking on his ring and glaring at Qingqiu.

The man threw his hands up.

“Fine! Since you like him more than your papa who gave birth to you! I see how it is!”

He was still fuming after having to walk away and cool off.

He wanted to just dump that brat on Tianglang-jun and wash his hands clean but decided not too.

He commisioned tiny brushes for Shen Jius small hands and decided to write his letters wjth Shen jiu present.

“You will begin reading and writing, you still retain your memories but your coordination will need some work.”

So Shen jiu struggled he knew the characters but couldn’t grip his pen right he handmt practised the muscle yet.

So Shen Qingqiu used a hair tie wrapped it around Shen Jiu’s fingers and the other began to write in wonder.

Then it became known that the new son and heir of Tianlang-jun and Shen Qingqiu was a genius. And of course the cultivation world had to pay their respects to the emperor.

Yue Qingyuans reaction to seeing their son was like a punch to the gut.

Of course their son looked exactly like his Xiao Jiu.

Even the way his brat stood tall, chin raised high and nose scrunched into a sneer.

…Shen Qingqiu will have to get him a fan.

Shen Qingqiu accepted the meltdowns if Shen Jiu wasn’t bejng cold and aloof he ended up giving into his impulse kicking, screaming-

And not a normal scream, high pitched bust your ear drums scream.

“I hate you!”

“I know…”

Shen Qingqiu even let Shen Jiu beat him with his fists- he’s a cultivator he can handle it-

But once Shen Jiu finally got his anger out he began to cry.

Eyes aged beyond their years and trapped in a child frustrated to being a slave to his emotions.

Shen Qkngqiu drew him close playing the quqin and humming a song.

“It’ll pass, you’ll be older befkre you know. Play this yourself one day.”

Shen Jiu clutched his robes and thats hiw Tianglang-jun found them.

It was a routine Shen Qingqiu established. He liked being kept busy, and told Tianglang-jun he need his iwn hobbies away.

Wu yanzi isn’t dead-

The palace master is and-

Shen Qingqiu was on another trip with his husband and both were havjng fun lretending to be hinourable cultivatirs and even more so when Tainglang-jun purposfully held himself back so Qingqiu could look like a badass.

And wu yanzi ends up killing shen qingqiu in public loudly proclaiming-

“This is how you assassinate, boy!”

Shen Qingqiu died.

How? How in the flying fuck is he dead!?

Shen Qingqiu’s eyes blinked open -huh?

He could’ve sworn he died.

“See, I told you Necromancy was my specialty. Qui Haitang is standing before you, and now my precious son and yet you still doubt me?”

Shen Qingqiu gazed up, and saw the Old Palace Master, as well as Qui Haitang along with…Luo Binghe!?

Luo Binghe spoke, eyes devoid.

“Why did you kill him in the first place if you needed his body?”

“The world needs to believe Shen Qingqiu died, afterall once we’re done the body will no longer look like Shen Qingqiu.”

…What the fuck? What the fuck is going on.

Shen Qingqiu gaped “Binghe!? Whats the meaning of this?”

Why was he working with Wu Yanzi and the Palace Master!

“Don’t worry, son. Soon we’ll bring your mother back you know she would never had abandoned you and would love you always fate had other plans. Until now-”

“You’re the one that killed her” Shen Qingqiu snapped eyes filled with hatred, and replaced? The hell did he mean?

“Binghe? How can you think I replaced you? The very thought is ridiculous!”

Luo Binghe finally looked at him, black pools swirled with madness, no way- don’t say Xin Mo twisted things or maybe…

Qui Haitang is alive, the two maybe travelled the abyss together she may have fed poison of Shen Qingqiu.

“You had a son, you have Mobei-Jun and this…Xiao Jiu to replace me! You never really loved Binghe it was all an act to get to my father!”

Shen Qingqiu’s eyes widened, what?

How…how could Binghe get this so wrong?

“This one fails to see why it has to be Shen Qingqiu’s body, why couldn’t this one have him instead?” The old Palace Master spoke enraged,

Hmm?

“That’s right! You promised to make my brother like himself again but now you’re doing this! My brother shouldn’t be walking around wearing the face of this old geezer!”

The old man nodded furiously.

And Shen Qingqiu realised with dawning horror that Qui Jianlou was in control of the old palace master.

And now they were going to what…? Put Su Xiyan in his body?

“Yes you’re brother did good on his word,” Wu Yanzi said, as he began to prepare for some sort of satan ritual.

“For many years being my sponsor,”

Wait-

“For manipulating events to make Shen Qingqiu the bride of Tianglang-Jun…”

Wait-!

“And for even helping dear Binghe find the truth, now Qui Jianlou can step down and be free with his sister, and the new emperor can continue assisting me in your place.”

They brainwashed Binghe!

Shen Qingqiu’s eyes narrowed into a glare, and the Palace Master was never here! It was all Qui Jianlou and Qui Haitang both were squatting like toads at Huan Hua while helping the demonic cultivator.

Maybe promised them revenge for his wayward bastard son.

Shen Qingqiu gritted his teeth, Wu Yanzi…really was a scumbag.

And yet, after all the things Shen Qingqiu put in place to protect Binghe, Mobei-Jun and in turn Shen Jiu- were told to always carry weapons on their person.

If anything Shen Qingqiu was thankful that the knife he had was still on him and that his hands were tired behind his back.

With all eyes on Wu Yanzi they didn’t notice him hack at the immortal binding cables.

“Keep still, son. This won’t hurt much.”

Shit- Shen Qingqiu screamed as Wu Yanzi touched his forehead, and Luo Binghe startled eyes wide, looking clear until Qui Haitang grabbed his arm.

“Shh, it’ll be over soon, Binghe…”

How dare she act so overly formal!

His body burned and Wu Yanzi was speaking gibberish and Shen Qingqiu suddenly felt full, flashes and memories of things that weren’t his-

The knife slashed through the rope, and Wu Yanzi fell over on his ass when Shen Qingqiu lunged forward.

The old man was holding Xiu Ya.

His arms free his body moved on its own free will.

Cucumber-Bro, Shen Yuan and now holding the title Shen Qingqiu was just floating in his own state distanced from everything.

The old man had his throat slit, dropping Xiu Ya, Qui Haitang cried out in horror, after grabbing Luo Binghe on the sword and flew down the corridors, Wu Yanzi struggled up, scowling but was grabbed by Qui Haitang.

“Save him- save my brother!”

Shen Qingqiu’s body kept running digging their nails into Luo Binghe’s arm.

“Impertinent brat. Where are they holding your father?”

They finally made it outside, but the body of Shen Qingqiu flew shoving Luo Binghe forward on the side. It wasn’t exactly tugging him on his ear like a misbehaving boy but it was close enough.

“You know where the locked him down. Or he would be here to save u-me.”

Luo Binghe was lost, “Shizun?”

“Shizun? Is that what you call him? Ungrateful. And it’s that attitude that killed him.”

“What?”

Luo Binghe’s voice sounded weak and it broke Shen Qingqiu’s heart.

The one riding the sword sneered. “Shen Qingqiu is dead, his soul ejected from this body. And now you are in the company of your darling mother.” The word carried derision.

And Luo Binghe began to cry,

“I- I didn’t mean for this-”

“Speak clearly, boy. And intent matters. What were you expecting to happen? A happily ever after with you’re shizun oh wait. He’s dead.”

But he wasn’t the hell-

Shut up. The brat needs some humility for the damage he almost caused and for locking our husband up. You coddled him too much, that explains the tantrum.

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t believe it- Su Xiyan was co-habiting this body? But why couldn’t he move?

It won’t last, temporary possession, but let’s make him sweat a little…

“Shizun…he’s really-”

“Yes, now…where is your father.”

“...Buried under a mountain? Overkill much?”

“Husband…?”

He cracked. Shen Qingqiu seriously couldn’t take it, seeing Tianglang-jun trapped under the mountain, face bloody and looking like every bit the fallen hero. Shen Qingqiu couldn’t take it, wanting to rip the tailsmans of the wall and even kill the people invovled.

“Husband!”

Su Xiyan was promptly pushed to the back, surprised while Shen Qingqiu leapt forward grabbing Tianglang-Jun close and burying his face into his husbands neck.

“I thought you were dead,” tianlang-jun spoke, voice watery and Shen Qingqiu was hiding his face clinging him close.

“You can thank Wu Yanzi for that, he brought me back.”

Luo Binghe stood away, guilty look on his face.

“Binghe?” Tianglang-jun finally looked up, tensing.

“Shh, its alright, now.”

Shen Qingqiu stiffened as Su Xiyan took back control.

“Thank god this is temporary.” She took a step back biting her thumb and marked the tailsmans relishing in how satisfying it was to see them all snap.

She caught him and placed one arm around her shoulder to support him.

“Now where is that nephew of yours, usually joined to the hip or a second growth.”

“Husband?”

“Wife.” Shen Qingqiu smirked, glancing at her husband then sighed. As Luo Binghe gave a soft sob.

“You! Stop crying and help me! It’s all your fault anyhow!”

“What- what happened?” Tianglang-Jun asked, as the three of them began to leave the mountain.

“Luo Binghe this Master weeps that you only got your brains from your father- use your sword!” Luo Binghe snapped to attention and drew Xin Mo to make a portal.

“Shen Qingqiu cuddled you too much.” She sneered and Luo Binghe eyes narrowed, “Don’t disrespect Shizun with his face!”

Tianglang-Jun now blinked eyes wide, “Su Xiyan.”

She sighed, “Idiots, the both of you.” She then kicked them through the portal and entered their pavilion.

Miss Su?

Su Xiyans eyes pricked with tears as she spoke softly “The Sun pavilion.”

Tianglang-Juns face crumpled with guilt, “Xiyan-”

“No.” She took a step back, shaking it off. “This possession is only temporary and came from demonic cultivation.” She used Shen Qingqiu’s fan to place against Tianglang-Juns chest holding him back.

“My time here is temporary. So don’t embarrass us both by doing something you’ll regret.”

Shen Qingqiu was confused, regret? Regret what?

Hey- it’s fine you can use my body, I mean it was my bastard father who-

“Hush up,” Su Xiyan spoke looking upwards, “Stop talking nonsense, and that man is not your father.”

“Shen Qingqiu? What did he say?”

“Nothing of importance.”

At least be kinder to Binghe!

“That brat? He’s the reason we’re in this mess. You coddle him too much and you!” She yelled at Binghe who was still fuming then flinched at the duress.

“You wanted a little brother! It was always Shizun I want a sibling, oh Shizun I want a baby brother- Mobei-Jun doesn’t count he has his own empire and won’t play with me!”

Luo Binghe’s eyes widened, “And He did! He kept telling everyone you were coming back because he believed you weren’t dead and this is how you repay him! Unfilial!”

“Xiyan! There’s no need-”

“And where were you in all this? Mobei-Jun was kidnapped and you did nothing, Shen Qingqiu always has to clean up your messes. If this Xiyan was still alive this one would divorce you!”

“Xiyan!”

Tianglang-Jun only laughed, that women always so cold! And telling them like it is!

Although, Luo Binghe fell to his knees slamming his head against the floor, Shen Qingqiu’s spirit responded making the body flinch at the action.

“This Binghe has been unfilial! This one truly thought Shizun had abandoned him,” He hit his head again, and Su Xiyan wanted to stand there still and aloof meanwhile Shen Qingqiu wanted to pick him up.

“This one came back and saw- saw Shizun with-”

“Binghe?”

The three stiffened to see Shen Jiu, staring at the man on the floor crying his heart out. Shen Jiu scoffed.

“It’s about time you got home!”

Luo Binghe blinked, Shen Jiu looked older, almost fifteen of course, spiritually made children aged faster and since Shen Jiu was mentally an adult man he was perfectly fine with that.

“Now Mama won’t be gloomy anymore!” Shen Jiu approached then proceed to kick Luo Binghe while he was down.

“Ack-”

It barely hurt him, although maybe Shen Jiu was using Qi in his kicks.

“You made him cry! Apologise!”

Luo Binghe gaped “What?”

“Apologise!”

He kicked him again- “O-okay Xiao Jiu thats enough. Luo Binghe is sorry,”

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t take it anymore, he crouched down picking Binghe up and tugging him close.

“I wanted to do that as soon as I saw you.”

Luo Binghe stared ahead eyes wide his hands coming up to clutch his robes.

“Shizun,”

“You’re too big for tears, ah there there.”

“Sh-shizun won’t leave me?”

“Never.”

Where did this abandonment issue come from?

“Qui Haitang…she kept saving me in the abyss, she…told me about you that it was all lies and- when I saw I believed-”

“It’s okay…”

Tianglang-Jun took Shen Jiu’s arm and made them all sit together, Luo Binghe flinched as he felt two more presence press against his back, then exhaled.

“Okay- now thats enough.” Su Xiyan spoke, “We don’t know what Wu Yanzi is planning,”

“-Wu Yanzi!?”

Su Xiyan looked at Shen Jiu in surprise “Oh, you would know more about him wouldn’t you.”

Shen Jiu scowled, while Tianglang-jun and Luo Binghe looked confused.

“Explain we don’t have much time.”

Su Xiyan stared then the lips of Shen Qingqiu pulled into a smirk “I like this boy,”

You would.

Tianglang-Jun hummed “Both cold, and brutal. You would’ve gotten along like a house on fire.”

“Yes, Shen Qingqiu would’ve made a fine first husband if this one had become empress…both of them.”

Now Tianglang-Jun’s eyes narrowed, and She smirked more before walking passed to get their palace ready.

All wifes from Huan Hua were rejected for conspiracy, they were already divorced in name only stayed since they had no where else to go.

Ning Yingying and Liu Mingyan maintained the perimeter, Cang Qiong and the other sects had given aid and other cultivators to assist.

Shen Jiu stared at the man who he once called father, Wu Yanzi sneered “You look just like him, the bastard who came back on his hands and knees begging to be taken into my loving arms hah!”

Shen Jiu sword didn’t waver, staring straight at the threat.

He knew how Wu Yanzi operated, knew how he would access the palace.

“So, you wanted to put Binghe on the throne a puppet to have direct power over the demon and human realm. But that plans fallen through, Luo Binghe and Tianglang-jun will never agree to your terms.”

“What If I made you my hostage? Hmm? That would be easy-”

Wu yanzi struck and Shen Jiu dodged, sending out a demonic qi blast to disrupt the talisman Wu Yanzi’s eyes widened.

“As a body created from both Human and Demonic qi, this one has the gift to manipulate both. And with your teachings this one has an advanced handle on them.”

“My teachings…you…” Wu Yanzi’s eyes widened-

“You’re-”

The walls crashed around them, Shen Jiu covering his head while Wu Yanzi evaded until he was slammed against the wall by Xiu Ya,

“Shen Jiu!”

Wu Yanzi hesitated, “Shen Jiu?”

Shen Jiu gaped- he didn’t expect Tianglang-Jun and the others to come-

Su Xiyan was gone. Her soul moving onto reincarnation, Shen Qingqiu stood in front of Shen Jiu raising his hands to hold the sword in place.

“Its over Wu Yanzi.”

The man laughed, pinned to the wall “Seems like it is-”

He raised his hand and screamed when a sword glare struck, slicing it clean off.

“I know all your tricks, Wu Yanzi…”

The man laughed, falling back against the wall, “This Master…supposes you do.”

Shen Jiu hesitated, the warm fond look on the mans face was strange, it only made his parents more wary and Luo Binghe raise Zheng Lang, and Tianglang-Jun raised XIn Mo.

“Not bad, not bad. The son has far surpassed the master.” Wu Yanzi raised his arms to clap then realised he didn’t have one.

“Ah never mind.”

“Stop talking, Shen Jiu ignore him.”

“Why should he? The brat wants to know doesn’t he. Why? Why would your old man do this, why would he sell you to the highest bidder again, and again and again.”

Shen Jiu hands narrowed, shaking.

“Don’t listen to him-”

“Ah, a stranger shouldn’t involve himself in such matters! This is between me and my boy, isn’t that right Shen Jiu? You did the same thing I did, swapping souls? Beautifully done being the whore of the emperor was beneath you, but his son? Couldn’t have done it better myself!” he laughed loud.

“What is he talking about?”

“It’s true isn’t it, that Qingqiu isn’t the bastard I spawned, he’s nothing like himself. You on the other hand- you’re mine aren’t you.”

Both the shens gaze narrowed as Shen Jiu raised his sword, “This one is not your anything, you made that quite clear when I returned after you abandoned me.”

Wu Yanzi's smile was so annoyingly consistent, and Shen Qingqiu pushed Xiu Ya deeper into his arm the man grunted in pain.

“And that Qui abomination of a family…they were made to train you…you didn’t kill Qui Jianlou, I did. My own bastard son…a prodigy, better than my own son. The bullshit that is society saying you weren’t my true heir out of wedlock. And now, the slate is wiped clean.”

Wu Yanzi smile widened and Shen Jiu face fell in horror “Don’t-”

“This Father…wishes he could do better, but as a crooked man of demonic cultivation everything I gave you would’ve been poisoned. A Demon emperor was fitting for your station. Do with this gift as you will.”

Shen Jiu almost lunged forward, “No!” Shen Qingqiu held him back not knowing what the man was planning-

Until he self destructed, warm smile still on his face.

Tears streaked from Shen Jiu’s eyes as he fell to his knees.

Shen Qingqiu fell with him, holding him close. He didn’t understand-

“W-why would he do that?”

“Maybe he felt cornered.” Luo Binghe spoke, “Or maybe a spare body to hop into-”

“Binghe, enough.”

Shen Jiu sobbed into his arms, “Why would he do that?”

Shen Qingqiu looked at the body of Wu Yanzi.

…Was he instead an a morally grey character? Who had done everything for his son? Who knew his reputation and the eyes of society would hold Shen Qingqiu back?

Shen Yuans eyes widened.

He must have observed how he was treated on Cang Qiong, knowing no matter what a honourable cultivator may well as still be a dirty slave to those above.

So he manipulated and pulled strings to make him the beloved husband of Tianglang-Jun knowing no one would cross him or harm his reputation with a renowned demon lord such as that-

The only thing Wu Yanzi didn’t factor in, was that Tianglang-jun wasn’t demonic enough to protext Shen Jiu’s reputation especially with the loss of his wife and that Shen Jiu’s own self hatred would doom himself not seeing it for the gift it was.

Protection, and stability. Knowing no one was good enough for Shen Jiu so he created this marriage for him.

Shen Jiu wailed, beating his arms against Shen Qingqiu’s body.

Wu Yanzi was a demonic cultivator, a cruel and cold father…but his actions said otherwise.

“Let’s go home.”

Tianglang-Jun and Luo Binghe were useless as always. Shen Qingqiu picked his son up holding him close as they stepped away and back towards their home.

“Husband,” Tianglang-juns eyes were burning with curiosity “Explain.”

With no system in this transmigration, Shen Yuan had to break under pressure and explain.

Tianglang-Jun nodded, the thought of two souls inhabiting a body his husband and wife, this wasn’t that far fetched.

“Well? Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“Hmm, you should tell Shang Qinghua, this sounds like an amazing story.”

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