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vannahfanfics · 1 year

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Hi hi! I go by Sunny online, I use they/them, I'm 5'7, I have decently long brown hair (I'm growing it out as my years of peace and if someone provokes me to anger I'll cut it off and leave it on their doorstep as a cute reference to emperors in ancient China <3) I'm chaotic in nature, I've been described as the literal personification of a d&d bard. Which I'd say is decently true, I'm charismatic and flirty, I'm great and convincing people and I'm the hype person! My go to words/phrases are, "Slay king/queen live your truth" "Have my babies" "Naur/Hyelleur" "I'm gonna beat you up *pretend beats them up* are you dead yet?" All with a funny tone and my excellent autistic timing. I also like to do bits, and one of them includes saying no to a task that's asked of me, then proceeding to do said task. I also like to make hearts with my hands in various ways and poke my tongue out briefly at people like a frog.

This is my left eye for reference :)

I have an oval face shape with some baby fat, but not too much :P

Also I'm proven to be totally chill and super smooth around people that I find very attractive. I may get a little nervous but no one can tell until after said attractive person leaves. I'm demiromantic and demisexual so it means I don't experience those kinds of attractions without a deep bond. I don't care for gender but women and nb people tend to befriend me and get close so that skews the results some heh.

Good luck with the comissions! I hope I didn't out too little/much information, and buh-byeeeee <3333

Ahh, Sunny, I apologize for how long it took me to get to this! Between medical school shenanigans, writer's block/my ADHD squirrel-braining, and all that mess, I've just been on a rollercoaster of poor time management over here. TT.TT But, hopefully, you'll find it as having been well worth the wait! Thanks again for commissioning <3

P.S. I also do the thing where I say "no" when someone asks me to do something while immediately moving to perform said task XD

I match you with...

Ling Yao from FullMetal Alchemist!

Okay, full disclosure, I'm a little biased because Ling was one of my first great manga/anime loves... However, your personal blurb just screamed Ling to me, so I'm going with him anyways! I just think you two would be total peas in a pod—the best or worst chaotic duo, depending on who you ask, muahaha! Here's a few reasons why I think you two would be really compatible:

I think being demiromantic and demisexual works in your favor when it comes to Ling! After all, he's a guy who forms very deep and powerful bonds himself, and his devotion to those he cares about not only influences a lot of his personality but serves as the core of his motivations. I think he'd totally vibe with the idea of needing a strong, meaningful relationship in place already before any feelings beyond friendship develop. He can play at being friends with everyone and seeming like he doesn't form serious attachments, but we know that he does, and those are the relationships he puts the most value in. That being said, he is entirely personable; it would be easy to become friends with him and go from there! He's a lot like you in his extroversion, after all. People are where the party's at, and you are certainly a party people that he'd invite into his life! :)

When it comes to Ling, I feel like physical appearance is something that may be an element of catching his initial interest and cause him to take notice of someone (such as a "hot senator," wink-wink, nudge-nudge) but isn't necessarily the key factor in his decision to pursue somebody. That being said, it's not something he totally ignores, either; the more he falls for you, the more things he falls in love with about you, and that includes appearance. He'll begin to just randomly think about how luscious your hair is, how gorgeous your eyes are, how you look lovely whether you're dressed comfy or to the nines... And if you ask him why he's got a dreamy look on his face while staring at you, he's certainly not shy in telling you exactly what's on his mind! But he'd be unable to pick a favorite part about you because he just adores all of you so much, inside and outside, physical and not. And he'll tell you that, too!

Now, you did mention that you're not really keen on words of affirmation as a love language. It's not Ling's primary love language, but he's not the type to withhold compliments or be shy about his feelings, as I mentioned before. Bear in mind that, to him, they aren't words of affirmation; it's just the truth! He never says things that he doesn't genuinely believe, so it might be hard for him to stifle those urges in the beginning of navigating a relationship with you. But he will try, simply because he doesn't want to upset you or come off as disingenuous. Don't hold it against him if things slip out here and there, though! And he will more than make up for it through his primary love language, which is acts of service. I mean, we've seen what lengths Ling will go to for those he cares about and/or feels responsible for. If you asked this man to pluck the moon out of the sky for you, he'd be searching for the nearest rocketship to commandeer. He'll always try to do things to make you smile, make your day better, make your life easier... Whatever you need at the time and whatever makes you happy! Finally, he's also a lot like you when it comes to physical affection. His desire for it grows as his feelings grow; if it's a serious relationship, he can be a real cuddle monster! He won't want to go two minutes without hugging or kissing or touching you or some way. He isn't even ashamed about admitting that he's a little needy, LOL. He just adores you oh so much! If you're willing to give, why should he be shy about asking? Of course, if you're not in the mood, he can easily pick up on that and won't overstep your boundaries. He'll definitely be a little sad about it, though, and will be a little bit more of a menace when you're ready to accept physical affection from him again! >:)

A lot of the reason that I think you guys work together, as I've alluded to a bit, is that your personalities are so similar! Sometimes, this can actually be a recipe for not being able to enter a relationship with a person, but I don't that'd be the case for you and Ling. I think you two would 100% fuel each other's madness. I mean, tell me that Ling would not also cut off his hair and leave it on the doorstep of someone who provoked him. That is peak petty Ling vibes right there. To further cite your personal blurb, Ling definitely has bard energy—charismatic, shrewd, humorous, free-spirited... A lot of qualities that you also have! I can only imagine the shenanigans that the two of you would get up to. You two will definitely come up with all the chaotic/hilarious bits, witticisms, and the like. The same can be said about your sense of justice and loyalty. Those are values that Ling holds in high regard himself and immensely respects in a person. His ass will be right there with you in the jail cell. And, hello, your love of food? It totally resonates with Ling! So the fact that you like food is your ticket straight to his heart, LMAO! He loves having a good time over a nice meal, and he gets to see you super happy while he's at it? Win-win, baby! And, let's be honest, Ling can be swayed by the dollar signs... so he will definitely respect your dreams of rolling in the dough, haha!

Ling is highly observant, so if you've caught his attention in a way that makes him want to court you, then he's going to make sure to make all the right moves to win your heart <3 So, I figured I'd expound a bit on the kind of things Ling does when he finds out the things that make you happy!:

Ling, 90% of the time, does not do planned dates. This dude just calls and sometimes even shows up out of the blue hoping that you are free so he can spirit you off on an adventure, LOL! He just can't help it; the instant that he wants to talk to your or see you, he just has to, right then and there! Not only that, this guy lives his life by the rule of spontaneity; it's no fun if you plan every second of your day!

Honestly, he'll probably pick up on the fact that you like food during your first meeting. A lot of your friendship will involve food, whether it's you guys going out to eat together or ordering in or just talking about your shared gourmet interests, LOL. But once he gets it in his head that he wants to date you? Man, he kicks it into high gear.

You mention a new restaurant you wanna try? Dress up, love, because he'll be picking you up at seven. Your favorite snacks? He has them on hand anytime the situation could call for it just because he wants to see your face light up. You mention you have nothing to do this weekend? Knock-knock, here's Ling with some take-out and some movies or videogames, ready to waste the night away with you.

At first, Ling's not a guy who cooks. He's got people to do that for him, LMAO. But this man would 100% learn to cook for you. The notion of you enjoying something that he made just for you... Ah! It makes his heart go doki-doki! Like, literally, he might shed a tear of joy the first time because it makes him that happy to know you liked his food.

And if you do the same for him? First it will blow his mind, then he'll get stupid excited because food, and then he'll get all choked up because you did this just for him! It could honestly be burnt or salty or straight up inedible, but this guy will lick the plate clean because you made it and that makes it a five-star meal in his book :)

Real talk, he knows you don't like dishonesty, so he'll be tactfully honest if it wasn't good. But if you try to get him not to eat it, you'll just end up chasing him around the house while he's shoveling food in his mouth. Sometimes his principles overrule his brain, and he would rather die than waste a single bit of a meal you made for him!

Needless to say, eating with you is his favorite activity. He gets to eat some yummy food, whether one or both of your made it or it's from a restaurant, and enjoy quality time with you. And it makes you just as happy! Seriously, what's not to enjoy?

And, last but not least, here is the little drabble that comes as part of the Tier III match-up! I am kind of passionate about Ling just being a spontaneous gremlin that somehow is just so sickeningly sweet and heart-throbbing, so, here, have some super cliché and chaotic fluff!:

You should have known better than to talk to Ling about romantic clichés.

It was a trap. Of course it was a trap! You've known the guy forever, and yet he still managed to trick you right into the conversation with that silver tongue of his. You'd only been dating a month, so him bringing up the topic of cliché romantic gestures should have been the biggest warning flag ever. When you managed to miss that, you should have been tipped off by the even more obvious probing about which gestures you found too cheesy and which ones kind of got your heart fluttering. But the bastard was too damn smooth and navigated that conversation leaving you none the wiser.

So, here you are, staring out of your bedroom window with an expression that is a mixture of embarrassment and endearment. Why? Because Ling was sitting in your yard, singing a very off-key rendition of your favorite song while playing an acoustic guitar more terribly than you thought a person could.

Well, as they say: hindsight is 20/20. Still, you don't know how you missed that.

"Ling!" You're laughing as you open your window and lean out to call to him. He had started off looking all seductive-like at you, but very soon he started really feeling himself and now had his head thrown back, yowling to the moon like some deranged cat. In fact, you can hear several cats in the distance responding to his call. He doesn't hear them, nor does he hear you, not with him singing at a pitch that borders on one only dogs can hear. So, after a small fit of giggles, you shout louder, "Ling!"

"Eh?" he cuts off to stare owlishly at you. He then plasters a big, cheesy grin on your face that is so full of enthusiasm and adoration that you can't help but let your heart melt a little.

"Oh, hey! Whatcha think?" Before you can answer, he cocks a brow and flashes you a suggestive smirk. "You're looking a little off-balance there. Did I sweep ya off your feet?"

"I'm off-balance, all right, but only because your singing is so bad that it's given me vertigo!" you rib. "What the hell were you thinking? I bet the neighbors are on the phone with animal control telling them that there's a band of raccoons tearing each other to pieces over here!"

As always, Ling takes your teasing in stride, just offering you a sheepish smile and a little shrug.

"Well, at least I can say I tried. I should have gone for something else, though. I know I can't sing for shit. But I've always wanted to try it, you know? Those guys in the movies make it seem so swoon-worthy." He wastes no time in discarding the guitar in the grass to retrieve later. He walks over to a plastic bag sitting nearby, and when he hefts it up, you recognize the logo of one of your favorite takeout places. "It's a good thing I brought a contingency plan."

"You should have started with that," you laugh as he approaches the window. Dextrous and limber, it's no trouble for him to clamber his way up and perch himself in it, straddling the sill and smiling warmly while he holds out the bag of delicious-smelling food to you.

"Come on. Admit it; you liked it," he goads, playfully yanking the to-go bag out of your reach just when you go to take it. When you pout at him, he wiggles his brows and presses, "Come on. You're telling me that you didn't swoon just the teeniest, tiniest bit?"

You debate lying to him just to do it, but you can't bring yourself to. Underneath his playful expression is genuine eagerness. So, after releasing a little sigh of relent, you admit, "Okay. I did swoon." When his face lights up with happiness, you hastily add, "Just the teeniest, tiniest bit, though."

"Whatever, I'll take it," he chirps and deposits the bag of food in your waiting hands.

You waste no time in tearing it open to get at the boxes of scrumptious goodies within. Like you've often done, you eat there at the window using some nearby furniture as a makeshift table, Ling perched in the window and you in a chair next to him. You melt as soon as you take the first bite, and immediately, Ling's face softens.

"What?" you ask around your mouthful of food.

"Mmm, I'm just glad that at least one of my romantic gestures made you happy," he answers nonchalantly. You roll your eyes, but that hot flush of happiness and nervousness is rushing through you despite your cool-as-a-cucumber outward appearance. And Ling has known you long enough to see right through it, prompting him to add, "Don't care how I do it, as long as I can make you smile."

"You're such a simp," you mumble despite the fact that a stupidly happy smile is growing on your face.

"Ah, but this simp is sitting in your window, so what does that make you?" he challenges. You respond with a playful shove to his shoulder, knowing that he'll catch himself as he slips to the side. He does with a squawk, then responds with an affronted huff and a light shove to your head. "Fine! Next time I try to dazzle you with a romantic cliché, I won't bring takeout!" He even starts acting like he's climbing back out the window to leave.

"Noooooo! I'm sorry! Please don't!" you whine, throwing your arms around his middle even though you know it's an act. You feign that it's just the food you care about, but in reality, it makes you giddy that he likes you enough to embarrass himself with corny displays if only to see you smile. And he knows that, which is why he settles himself back in the window and smiles at you.

In hindsight, maybe talking with Ling about romantic clichés wasn't so bad after all.

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#vannahfanfics commissions #commissions #match-ups #matchups #fullmetal alchemist #fma #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood #fmab #fma brotherhood

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serean · 2 years

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maybe I’m expecting too much from the bird app but it grates at my nerves to see people scream their very uninformed, very subjective takes with such confidence. last week it was fools who somehow read danmei set in ancient China and then judged it with their 21st century ideas of what constitutes abuse. yes I’m talking about Yu Ziyuan, she might not be the epitome of parental excellence but some people clearly approach her character with a small-minded view, paying no attention to her history, the setting, neither the characters’ nor their own cultural backgrounds. but anyway, that’s not what’s bothering me today.

as a bottom lwj stan, fandom is honestly a fun place for me, sure there’s not a lot of content but the content that exists is great and there’s so much enthusiasm among the small community of bottomji stans. I know there’s lots of folks in mdzs fandom that can’t stomach switch/reverse content and that’s perfectly fine. lots of those people just mute tags and accounts and move on.

which is why the recent take on how lwj being a “sadist dom” is “intrinsic” to his character is almost funny. on one hand it’s very interesting that someone who enjoys canon dynamics and has mountains of content to choose from feels the need to point out how anyone who likes the opposite is wrong. I suppose it’s nice to get an easy kick out of feeling superior over something like top/bottom dynamics.

anyone who says bottom lwj is canon is wrong obviously, at least in mdzs-verse. and of course there’s people who say “oh you just think cql lwj is a bottom because he’s feminine” and to that I say “yeah, probably” because it’s a fact that most of us have been conditioned to read certain things as masc/fem.

I’m aware of my biases when I look at characters. I know mdzs reverses traditional danmei tropes, I know what it looks like when the feminine one is automatically assumed to be the bottom. but I literally don’t care. fandom is not activism and I don’t need to have politically correct likes/dislikes when it comes to which fictional characters get the d.

this isn’t to say that your political views don’t shape how you read things because obviously they do. we’re all here for a variety of reasons, usually some combination of the chance to explore a romance that’s unhindered by traditional gender and sex dynamics, the cultural connection, the representation of queer people. the first one is the one that really resonates with me and so power imbalance is something that I’m pretty sensitive to. for me, the idea of wwx -getting insulted for being a servant’s son, giving up his golden core and weakening, absconding with refugees and living in poverty, then coming back in the body of mxy who’s shorter, slimmer, has a disgraced background and is generally less powerful (apart from demonic cultivation ofc), moving into CR and being topped by an aggressive lwj is just not very romantic. i can read it as porn but if there’s plot then it’s not as appealing as lwj who’s either a soft top or a bratty or subby bottom.

people talk about how lwj being a sub is no good because he’s repressed in all other aspects and in the bedroom is the one place he gets to let go and be his “aggressive, sadistic, dominant” self. um sure but if you’re looking at it like that then you can pull justifications for the opposite as well. maybe lwj should be a sub because in every other aspect of his life he’s had to be in control, strong and dependable, repressing all his desires, he deserves to let go and be looked after, be needy.

“lwj should top because he’s the more effeminate one, he reverses the traditional danmei tropes” okay but I was new to danmei when i watched cql/read mdzs and to me bottom lwj reverses the BL trope of the strong, silent, rich one topping. it’s never-ending, you can find all kinds of reasons to support why your preferred dynamic makes more sense.

I have nothing against topji, I was disappointed that bottomji wasn’t canon but I could appreciate mxtx’s choices, especially because it was a woman writing these men having unhinged sword sex. That said, I don’t enjoy much of the topji content out there because somehow the fandom seems to have taken the lwj from the extras/post-time-skip and made him their default version. coupled with the translations that don’t really do his lines justice, a lot of what I found endearing about lwj gets replaced for a lwj that's overly stoic, a mountain of muscles with caveman like responses and I just don’t find that attractive.

I don’t care if bottomji isn’t canon, if mxtx hates bottomji, if she says topping is in fact “intrinsic” to lwj’s personality. cql changed the story, changed the dynamic enough that I see it as connected to but still separate from mdzs. maybe cql lwj is a top too, idk. since they never confirm anything I like to believe they switch since cql wwx at least knows how gay sex works.

#rant #wangxian #the untamed #cql #mdzs #bottomji #top wei wuxian #fandom discourse #top/bottom #bottomlwj

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cqlfeels · 3 years

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@lansplaining encouraged me to finish this random meta nobody asked for, so let's talk about Meng Yao, Meng Shi, and 孟母三遷 (mèng mǔ sān qiān), a proverb about good parenting.

A warning: this is super long (even for me!) and is less quality meta and more my ADHD brain jumping around a maze of loosely related ideas. Proceed with caution!

Let me start by briefly going through why I decided to write this, because it’s important. In haunting Meng Shi’s tag in my starvation for Meng Shi content, I’ve multiple times come across the idea that Meng Shi pushed Meng Yao too hard, that she should’ve been more careful with teaching him to seek his father’s approval at any cost, and that she was too naïve. I’ve never reblogged this kind of post because 1) I personally think it’s rude to go out of your way to ramble about how much you disagree with someone on their own post and 2) if this was an isolated incident I wouldn't care either way, so I didn��t want to direct this rant at anyone in particular. It’s more to do with a tendency, primarily (as far as I can tell) from fans who haven’t had much contact with Chinese culture, to oversimplify Meng Shi and make her relationship with Meng Yao slightly disturbing, and I think part of it is due to CQL basically cutting out her entire storyline (so fans simply don’t have info about her to assess her fairly) and part is due to misunderstanding what a good parent is supposed to act like in the context of Ancient China.

[Of course, Ancient China is not a very useful historical concept, not any more than “ye olde Europe” - things change a lot based on time and place - but you know. It’s fantasy. Extremely broad trends are okay in this case.]

Anyway, the idea behind the posts I mentioned is, basically, that Meng Shi (usually through no fault of her own) is to blame for Meng Yao’s obsession with power, since his desire for approval was inherited from lessons she taught him. Just to start with, I’d argue that Meng Yao isn’t power-hungry as much as he craves security and respect, but that’s a different meta. Let’s assume that she really did teach him to be Like That. Was she wrong to do so? I’m not looking for “does that make for a happy, well-adjusted childhood?” or “would you raise your own son as Meng Shi did?” - I’m trying to figure out, would she have been considered a bad mother in the context of the society she lived in? I don’t think she would’ve.

It is surprisingly hard to find texts about the obligations of parents in Ancient China. Their main obligation is to raise filial children, but I feel like that’s not very useful: whether or not parents are good parents, children are expected to be filial, so a child being filial really says more about the child than about the parent. Maybe the parent completely missed the mark and society at large was what taught the child to be filial!

We can assume, of course, that parents were to raise good people, and that by learning what a good person looked like, we could figure out whether the parent was successful, but once again, I feel like that’s pinning things on the outcome, not on the process - the best of parents can end up with an awful kid and vice versa.

While thinking about all this, it took me a frankly embarrassing amount of time to remember the story of Mother Meng and Meng Zi, but once I did, it wouldn’t leave my mind - in part because the Meng here is the exact same Meng of Meng Shi and Meng Yao (yay! fun if useless parallel!), and in part because this is a story about how a woman can successfully raise a son by herself.

Okay, so important note: one of the most influential ancient Chinese thinkers is Meng Zi (孟子 Mèng Zǐ), who is known in the West as Mencius. If you've never heard of him - he's perhaps second in importance only to Confucius. When Mencius was still a young child, his father died, so he was raised by his mother, who is usually known only as Mother Meng (in Chinese, 孟母 Mèng Mǔ.)

Mother Meng's story is told in Biographies of Exemplary Women (列女傳 Liènǚ Zhuàn), which for around 2000 years beginning around the 18th century BCE, was the most commonly used book used to educate women. The book is divided into sections, each one showing a different way women could be honorable and good. Mother Meng's story is told in the Maternal Models section (母儀傳 Mǔ Yí Zhuàn.) The story has a few parts, some of which I'll quote, always from Kinney's 2014 translation.

Before I go on to quote it, though, I'd like to establish that Mother Meng's story is so, so famous that even if Meng Shi had never read this particular book, I'm almost certain she would've been familiar with at least the outlines of Mother Meng's story. I'm not cherry picking a suitable chapter from the book, I'm literally going with the most famous story in it because Meng Shi would be most likely to know this one if she knew no other story.

Okay, the first part of the tale takes place when Mencius is a young boy and Mother Meng is a widow raising him.

The mother of Meng Ke of Zou [a different name for Mencius] was called Mother Meng. She lived near a graveyard. During Mencius’ youth, he enjoyed playing among the tombs, romping about pretending to prepare the ground for burials. Mother Meng said, “This is not the place to raise my son.” She therefore moved away and settled beside the marketplace. But there he liked to play at displaying and selling wares like a merchant. Again Mother Meng said, “This is not the place to raise my son,” and once more left and settled beside a school. There, however, he played at setting out sacrificial vessels, bowing, yielding, entering, and withdrawing. His mother said, “This, indeed, is where I can raise my son!” and settled there. When Mencius grew up, he studied the Six Arts, and finally became known as a great classicist. A man of discernment would say, “Mother Meng was good at gradual transformation.”

According to the translator's footnote, "gradual transformation" is "a childrearing technique, whereby a child is morally formed through daily exposure to correct models of behavior."

From this story comes the proverb 孟母三遷 (Mèng Mǔ sān qiān) - "Mother Meng moved three times." It's come to mean that a parent - especially the mother of a male child - should spare no efforts to provide an environment that will give their child a good education, paying particular attention to what models are surrounding them.

I'm sure I don't need to say if Meng Shi was at all familiar with this proverb (and she would probably be), she must have been very stressed out over literally raising her son in a brothel. (Here I must mention sex workers in ancient China were often essentially owned by the brothels, so literally "moving three times" wasn't really an option for Meng Shi even if she could miraculously pick up another trade.) Meng Shi did however at least try to surround Meng Yao with the accomplishments appropriate for the son of a cultivator:

Xiao-Meng, are you still learning those things lately? [...] The things your mom wants you to learn, things like calligraphy, etiquette, swordsmanship, meditation… How are those things going? [...] His mom’s raising him as a young master of a wealthy family. She taught him how to read and write, bought him all those swordsmanship pamphlets, and even wants to send him to school.

Meng Yao actually talks a little bit about “those swordsmanship pamphlets” in the only time in canon he directly shares memories about this mother:

Lan XiChen, “Your [guqin] skills are also considered quite fine outside of Gusu. Were they taught by your mother?”

Jin GuangYao, “No. I taught myself by watching others. She never taught me such things. She only taught me reading and writing, and bought a handful of expensive sword and cultivation guides for me to practice.”

Lan XiChen seemed surprised, “Sword and cultivation guides?”

Jin GuangYao, “Brother, you haven’t seen them before, have you? Those small booklets sold by the common folk. First jumbled sketches of human figures, then deliberately mystified captions.”

Lan XiChen shook his head, smiling. Jin GuangYao shook his head as well, “All of them are scams, especially to fool women like my mother and ignorant children. You won’t lose anything by practicing them, but you definitely won’t gain anything either.”

He sighed in a rueful way, “But how could my mother have known this? She bought them no matter how expensive they were, saying that if I returned to see my father in the future, I had to see him with as much competence as possible so that I don’t fall behind. All of the money was spent on this.”

See what’s happening? Meng Shi cannot physically take Meng Yao to cultivators, but she spares no efforts in giving him the closest thing she possibly can -- figuratively, we might say she moved three times.

Of course, these booklets don’t work, but as Meng Yao says, how could she have known this? The cultivation world is very closed off - think of how the entire Mo household gathers to see Lan juniors, and how Wei Wuxian mentions once that “Cultivation families, in the eyes of common folk, are like people favored by God, mysterious yet noble.” Not just noble, but mysterious. That tracks, too - I mean, they live in inaccessible households and mostly leave to night hunt or visit each other, neither of which is an activity that would allow commoners to get much more than an occasional glimpse of them.

Now, if Meng Shi doesn’t even know that a pearl for Jin Guangshan was just a trinket, if she doesn’t know even the wealth of a major sect, how can she read booklets and decide whether that’s genuine cultivation or not? All that she sees is a chance for Meng Yao to be surrounded by the ideas and skills of the people she wants him to emulate - cultivators - and therefore she does everything she can to get him that chance. Mother Meng moved three times.

Okay, but maybe the argument is not “Meng Shi shouldn’t have pushed Meng Yao to cultivation” but rather “she should’ve pushed him, just not too hard." To that, I present another tale from Mencius' childhood:

Once, when Mencius was young, he returned home after finishing his lessons and found his mother spinning. She asked him, “How far did you get in your studies today?” Mencius replied, “I’m in about the same place as I was before.” Mother Meng thereupon took up a knife and cut her weaving. Mencius was alarmed and asked her to explain. Mother Meng said, “Your abandoning your study is like my cutting this weaving. A man of discernment studies in order to establish a name and inquires to become broadly knowledgeable. By this means, when he is at rest, he can maintain tranquility and when he is active, he can keep trouble at a distance. If now you abandon your studies, you will not escape a life of menial servitude and will lack the means to keep yourself from misfortune. How is this different from weaving and spinning to eat? If one abandons these tasks midway, how can one clothe one’s husband and child and avoid being perpetually short of food? If a woman abandons that with which she nourishes others and a man is careless about cultivating his virtue, if they don’t become brigands or thieves, then they will end up as slaves or servants.” Mencius was afraid. Morning and evening he studied hard without ceasing. He served Zisi [a great scholar whose grandfather was Confucius] as his teacher and then became one of the most renowned classicists in the world.

Notice that Mother Meng moved three times to ensure Mencius would have the highest of aspirations - to become a scholar. But just aspiration isn’t enough. Not by any means. Now that Mencius is actually studying, Mother Meng is willing to take an extreme action to ensure he's taking it seriously. Mencius doesn't have a father to smooth his path to success. He has to learn that aspiring to greatness isn't enough. He'll have to put in the effort as if his life depended on it. And if he doesn't persist in his hard work, everything he's done thus far will be useless. Sounds like a lesson imparted on young Meng Yao, doesn’t it?

A lot of fandom rage towards Meng Shi would apply to China's Best Mom Contender, Mother Meng. She gives her son big dreams, and teaches him how to go about achieving them in a society where failing is easier than succeeding. Yes, it's fair to say that Meng Shi taught Meng Yao to refuse to settle for anything less than being “Jin Guangshan's son, a respected cultivator.” Yes, it's also fair to say that she probably didn't allow him much time to play like children his age did. But unfortunately, in the world of MDZS, poor children probably wouldn't get to play anyhow, the difference is that they'd usually be working, not studying. Studying is a privilege! It’s a privilege Meng Yao could not afford but was given to him anyway, through his mother’s many sacrifices. We can even say that while she was alive, Meng Shi was trying to ensure Meng Yao would one day have a better life, at the expense of a fun childhood - and that's very Mother Meng of her, whatever our modern Western sensibilities might have to say about that.

Finally, I’d skip other tales (which show Mother Meng and an adult Mencius) and go straight to the poem that ends the Mother Meng section:

The mother of Mencius

Was able to teach, transform, judge, and discriminate.

With skill she selected a place to raise her son,

Prompting him to accord with the great principles.

When her son’s studies did not advance,

She cut her weaving to illustrate her point.

Her son then perfected his virtue;

His achievements rank as the crowning glory of his generation.

I’d like to focus on the last verse - “His achievements rank as the crowning glory of his generation.” All that Mother Meng wanted was for Mencius to not completely ruin his life, but he became great. You can so very easily see a parallel with how Meng Shi hoped Meng Yao would be a cultivator but he became Jin Guangyao, Chief Cultivator, styled Lianfang-zun, one of the Three Venerable, hero of the Sunshot Campaign.

Of course you can say “Jin Guangyao did many Very Wrong Things to get there, though!” Which, sure, okay, fair point. How many and how wrong depends on which canon we're discussing, and your own interpretation, but there’s no version of the story in which Jin Guangyao is 100% an innocent child uwu. But blaming that on Meng Shi is just... straight up weird? I don’t see anyone going “If Jiang Fengmian hadn’t adopted Wei Wuxian, he’d never have dared become Yiling Laozu!” and that’s pretty much the same logic. Would street kid Wei Wuxian have invented a new type of cultivation if he had never been taken in by the Jiang? Probably not, but raising undead armies is very much not something Jiang Fengmian could’ve predicted. In the same way, how could Meng Shi have predicted that teaching her pre-adolescent son “You are the son of a cultivator, act like one and earn your place in society” would’ve ultimately resulted in innocent deaths? How could she predict “You’re not destined to having the same horrible life I did, you can get something better than this” was a bad thing to teach? I quite honestly don’t know.

Finally, I'd like to point towards a much flimsier evidence that Meng Shi did great as a parent. And that is Meng Yao’s love. Nie Huaisang at some point comments Meng Shi is someone who Meng Yao "cherishes more than his life," and I think his assessment is correct.

Even putting aside the fact he built a whole temple to get his mother to reincarnate into a better life, and even putting aside how he refuses to flee the country without her remains, there's still crystal clear evidence that Meng Shi must've done something right. Because a lifetime of people using his mother to bully him doesn't seem to have made Meng Yao resent her. Had their relationship not have been very strong, odds are he'd feel bitter and/or ashamed of her. That doesn't seem to be the case. He's attached to her even decades after her death.

I want to be very careful with equating mutual affection with good parenting, though. When I was a rather rebellious teenager, my mother (in typical Chinese fashion) used to say that parents and children don't have to love each other as long as they're dutiful to each other, by which she meant that a parent-child relationship isn't informed by warm and fuzzy feelings, but by whether you'd be willing to do anything for each other. Specific to my case, she meant "I don't care if it makes you hate me, you will do as you're told because that's what's best for you." (That may also be the reason why people more familiar with Chinese culture see the Jiang family less as outright abusive and more as #complicated, but that's another meta.)

Whether your kid wants to hug you every time they see you is of no consequence to traditional Chinese thought - raising them to be the best they can is all that matters, because at the end of the day, you won't be around forever, but you can definitely set up your kid's life so that it goes smoothly and virtuously. How that's accomplished varies depending on many factors, but to have the goal be "I want my child to love me" rather than "I want to raise my child right" would've been considered selfish as hell.

So even if all that Meng Shi had given Meng Yao had been stern lessons about the need to go get his birthright, she would've still have been considered a good mother!! In fact, she would've been doing everything she was supposed to do, under extremely difficult conditions! (Remember the importance of environment? That Meng Yao grew up to want to be a cultivator despite having probably never even met one speaks wonders about Meng Shi's childrearing powers!!)

But just based off how over the top Meng Yao's filal dutifulness is, I'd go a step further and say that even as she did the impossible, she was also loving enough to inspire genuine affection. This is complicated because children who have present fathers could expect their mothers to be tender with them. The first century BCE text 禮記 Lǐ Jì or The Classic of Rites says that:

Here now is the affection of a father for his sons - he loves the worthy among them, and places on a lower level those who do not show ability; but that of a mother for them is such, that while she loves the worthy, she pities those who do not show ability - the mother deals with them on the ground of affection and not of showing them honour; the father, on the ground of showing them honour and not of affection.

But when the father figure is lacking for any reason, the mother must abandon her tenderness because someone must guide the child, and without a father, the role falls to the mother. A single or widowed mother had to be very careful to not smother their children with affection and raise useless, spoiled kids, or so it was thought. (The presence of Qingheng-jun and Lan Qiren is why Madame Lan can be so affectionate with the Lan boys, by the way - if she was raising them by herself she would've been expected to be much more practical. AUs where she just gets her kids and runs away could do very cool things with this idea. But I digress!)

Where was I? Oh, okay. Because Meng Yao seems to not just respect, but actively miss her, it seems that Meng Shi somehow managed to deal with her son on the ground of both honor and affection, to paraphrase.

So basically, all things considered, it seems not only would Meng Shi have been considered a great mom (if people could look past her being a prostitute, anyway) but she also went above and beyond the bare minimum. She truly spared no efforts on any front to make sure her son had everything your average gongzi would have - someone to teach him and someone to love him, access to education and confidence in his birthright. That she couldn't actually make him a cultivator, that she couldn't actually raise him in a proper home with no one being cruel to herself or him - that's immaterial. Even Mother Meng couldn't control what her neighbors did, only what she taught her son! The key point is Meng Shi tried. She did everything she could to educate her son right. You couldn't ask more of her, and quite honestly, you should probably be asking less.

Of course we can't err on the other extreme and say she was Perfect. Given MXTX only ever writes flawed characters, we can safely assume that if we'd known more about Meng Shi, we would've seen many flaws. Indeed, just the fact she didn't teach Meng Yao the guqin when he apparently wanted to learn it might point to some conflict we don't know enough to speculate about (maybe she focused too much on cultivation when Meng Yao's interests lay elsewhere? Maybe she wasn't able to sufficiently shelter him and he felt it'd be a burden to ask her to teach him anything? Maybe maybe maybe, go wild with your fics.) Nevertheless, I would never hold a female character to a higher ideal than a male character - if the male cast of MDZS can be a hot mess and still be admirable for what they're trying to do, then so can Meng Shi.

At the end of the day, when I look at Meng Shi - and I've made myself a document with all the references to her in the novel canon so I could easily contemplate her life and character - all I see is a woman every bit as determined and resourceful as her son, willing to do everything it took to raise her little boy into the sophisticated and ambitious man he became.

Finally, here's a fun little parallel that I'm 100% sure was unintentional but I still love. I said Meng Shi couldn't have moved three times. She couldn't, but I think maybe she taught her son he was worth moving three times for. Qinghe Nie. Qishan Wen. Lanling Jin. Isn't that super fun to think about?

Alternatively, tl;dr: Oh My God I Can't Believe We're Blaming Women For The Actions Of Their Adult Children In The Year Of Our Lord 2k21, Meng Shi Was Doing Her Best, Chill!

#drinking game #take a shot every time i say 'finally'#this post refused to let me get to the end of it lol #i think because i'm extremely salty about fanon stage mom meng shi #(to not say tiger mom meng shi which crosses into outright racism. but i'm giving people the benefit of the doubt)

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mp100fanworkstranslation · 3 years

Text

Slice of Folklore: An Asian Historical Folklore AU

by Tamadango

Oh god....Okay so this is an AU based on Chinese Folklore.

Reigen is a Daoshi Priest. This is a real sect of Taoism. But within the context of folklore, these Daoshi are more like Mages. They travel from village to village, doing exorcisms, performing rituals, removing curses, treating illnesses, presiding over ceremonies like funerals and also reanimating the dead so they can be walked to where they need to be buried.

Ekubo is a Jiangshi. More on this later.

That idiot villager…. said this route was a safe and easy hike

This is taking way longer than I expected. The other route would have been much faster

As he’s walking through a cave, the path underneath his feet collapses and he falls into a lower level of the cave.

(In chinese folklore, humans live on the surface and monsters/the dead/ spirits reside underground. Caves are sort of a limbo area inhabited by monsters, that average people avoid.

The path collapses underneath his feet, and he falls. -Screaming- Holy shit!

He falls and grunts in pain before looking up.

Directly in front of him, is a Jiangshi.

SAFE MY ASS!!

(Jiangshi are monsters from chinese folklore. They are corpses reanimated by blood spells. Lower level Jiangshi are just straight up zombies. Higher level ones are spirits sealed into dead bodies so they have some kind of will/consciousness like Ekubo here. They are reanimated by Daoshi priests and are obligated to serve them.

By default, Jiangshi are servant monsters, they ALWAYS have a master. Since they are dead/decaying bodies, they feed on the lifeforce of living people, ie blood. They can be powered up with blood, sealed with blood seals, sustained/controlled with blood. etc.

It’s sort of the mix between a zombie_ (undead, with poisonous bite)_, a vampire (needs blood), and a summoned demon (serves a master.) in western fiction.)

Reigen reaches around for his bag as the Jiangshi hops towards him. “Dammit all my tools are in my bag.”

(Tools specifically associated with being a Daoshi priest, like exorcism stuff, ritual daggers…spell tags…etc)

WHOA!

The creature is lunges at him, snapping. -teeth snapping sounds-

Reigen: ....? What an odd blood seal. Is it possible that this Jiangshi is acting under the control of this spell?

I have to remove it somehow!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

bottom panel -murmuring-

Ekubo: Hnnnnnngg

I’m finally free… Thanks to you

(So technically, he serves Reigen now. Jiangshi are servant monsters by their nature.)

Reigen: Ahhh the J…..J…. Jiangshi…. It talks! (Low level Jiangshi can’t talk... only the spirit sealed ones can.)

Ekubo: What kind of terrible outfit is this?

Ekubo: Huh? Don’t put me in the same category as those low class monsters.

Ekubo leans over: ....hmmmm

Sniff Sniff

You’re a Daoshi Priest from the Salt group aren’t you?

Eh?

Ekubo: and you’re a virgin….good! good!

Reigen: What business is that of yours?

Ekubo: Haha…What’s your name?

Reigen: Reigen.... Reigen arataka

(Daoshi Priesthood requires celibacy, virginity, veganism, no alcohol and vow of poverty, along with a lot of other things like prayer, literacy in religious languages, etc.)

My name is Ekubo. I am an high level creature of darkness!

(In Chinese folklore, Humans reside on the surface and monsters, demons, spirits, reside underground, and are collectively referred as such.)

You’re going to help me find the asshole who kept me sealed for the past couple hundred years so I can take my revenge.

Reigen: No, I’ll pass. I need to get to the next town, see ya (he says this very fast while walking away)

Ekubo: What?! Hey Wait! There’s lots of gold and treasure in the crypt below. I was guarding it. It’s yours if you help me out.

Reigen’s ears twitch.

(Daoshi Priests are required to take a vow of poverty so he’s not supposed to be interested in riches or accumulating wealth.

Jiangshi are servant monsters by their nature, and must have a master at all times. Which is why Ekubo tries to convince Reigen to go with him. Because If Reigen just left, he would have no choice but to follow.)

They’re looking at a sarcophagus covered in spell seals in the chamber below.

Reigen: Is that the owner of the crypt buried here? Doesn’t look wealthy to me.

Ekubo: Im sure all the good stuff is in the coffin

(In ancient china, as in most ancient cultures, it’s typical to dress the corpse lavishly and fill the coffin with jewelry, money and valuables, so the dead person can be wealthy in the afterlife)

Reigen: Hey, All these coffins in the back here are empty… that’s really strange

-Click-

Ekubo: No… those aren’t normal coffins… these… they’re sacrifices!

Reigen! It’s dangerous, Get Back!

Reigen: Wait… why are you running?!? Weren’t you looking for this guy so you can take revenge?

Ekubo: Hey I thought he sealed me here to guard the crypt, I didn’t realize I was intended as a snack for later.

Reigen: What?!? Does that mean those coffins are empty because it already ate them? So there’s no actual treasure?

Ekubo: Is THAT what you’re worried about right now? Can you stop being a greedy bastard for a bit so we can get out of here?

(Again, as a priest, he would have taken a vow of poverty and isn’t supposed to be interested in riches.)

Ekubo: Reigen what are you doing? You cant beat him! That monster is powered up from eating countless other creatures of darkness.

Reigen: Yeah that’s exactly why he needs to be stopped

Reigen: Ridding the world of monsters and exorcising evil is my calling!

Reigen: And you, since you haven’t been eaten yet, help me out

Ekubo: Tch! I want to, but this body is way too weak to go up against a monster like that.

Get down!

Ekubo: You don’t look it, but you’re actually pretty powerful. Shame it’s not enough to defeat him. Impressive nonetheless.

Reigen: We don’t have time for small talk! Think of something useful! Get us out of this mess!

Ekubo: Alright alright, calm down. You can leave it to me.

Ekubo: huh! very nice flavor.

The blood from the tongue of a virgin plus my (some kind of power class that is ancient but also protective)

(I really tried to translate this part but I don’t get the exact words he’s saying. The gist is that he gets a powerup by combining their powers. That’s it.)

Ekubo: I should be able to break through the protective barrier that he’s using to shield himself.

**Ekubo: Bring it! I’ll show you my true strength. **

Reigen: Can’t move… Cant feel my body at all….Looks like the poison is taking effect…. Makes sense… the bite of a Jiangshi

(Jiangshi feed on lifeforce/blood, so their bites can drain a person of their lifeforce temporarily.)

Can’t feel my tongue at all. It’s completely numb

Dont lose you bastard

I’m so tired……

Reigen: Ekubo?

Ekubo: Farewell...

Ah!

-tongue hurts - Thinks: so it wasn’t a dream

**He starts sobbing. **

**Ekubo: You alright? **

Reigen: It’s a talking fart!

Ekubo: Hey! It’s me! Ekubo!

Why are you crying? You miss me?

(More advanced Jiangshi are spirits sealed into dead bodies so they can be freed if their bodies are destroyed )

Reigen: Idiot! I’m trying to get the taste of corpse out of my mouth! You’ve been dead for hundreds of years!

Ekubo: Why are you so angry? Was that your first kiss?

Reigen: Shut up! Don’t you have some underground crypt to return to? What are you loitering out here for?

Ekubo: Just doing my guard duty.

Reigen: Why are you following me?

Ekubo: Why can’t I follow you? I just saved your ass, you could be a little more grateful you know.

(So earlier, Reigen removes the seal that was controlling Ekubo, and he then serves Reigen by default. After his body is destroyed, he’s free to move on. The implication here is that he’s chosen not to, and has decided to follow Reigen around instead.)

By Tamadango

UGHHHH. I was not going to translate this. But @gemmawritessometimes prodded me into it. There was so much goddamn folklore shit to explain.

Also this comic has a lot of terms you ONLY see in folklore and rarely anywhere else. Goddammit.

Yeah, anyway, enjoy this comic.

#ekurei #Ekubo #reigen arataka #Reigen #Mob psycho 100 #mp100

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its-snicket-here · 3 years

Note

Is it okay if I have a short imagine of wynly elf!milf and Tuare? ( And Sebas ) like mum just wanted to have some normal girls tea party in her personal garden, nothing but netural yet semai pletonic vibe here

( I kinda imagine the the mum have her mini area full of different plant life like a very massive green house )

Yes, of course!

Indeed she does have a mini garden that she grows all by herself that none of the Floor Guardians have access to unless have permission. Tis a shame that certain parts of the garden... has some... liking for flesh when unfed for a few months when coming in uninvited... :)

[Location] Gardens by the Bay, 18 Marina Gardens Drive, Singapore 018953

[Source] https://thevintagetable.com.au/vintage-high-tea-china-cutlery-hire-perth/

---------

Dressed in your less extravagant clothing and more like a commoner, you held your hair in a tight bun as you watched the water flow by. Your tail brushed against the grass lazily, as your horns were garbed with vines flowers with your butlers' help. Dimitri stood besides you, still in his knightly attire. Though he merely became a statue after he noticed that he'll be not be in use for now. Though there are many flowers and plants, the floral aroma wasn't too intoxicating that could kill the sense of smell. The seat in font of you still stood empty.

The table was simply covered with a white cloth, elegantly decorated with fine china and two 3-tiered platters filled to the brim with sandwiches and sweets. Hearing wind chimes echoing through the garden. Seems like your guest has arrived. Snapping your fingers, the flowers on your horns glowed softly, releasing tiny fairies out in the air.

[Summoned Pixie Fairies - Helpers: Activated]

They all danced in vibrant colors, flying around the plants to give them a much more lively look. Though they dare not to change the garden as much. They kept the garden ancient, knowing that it's how you liked it. Though the garden isn't grand nor tidy, you enjoy seeing the garden give in a more natural and ancient outlook to it.

"Guests."

"Guests!"

"We see guests!"

"We see mistress' guests!"

"Hurry!"

"Seal the dangerous plants!"

"Make mistress happy!"

The Pixies' chattered through the winds. Though they only chimed and jingled, but when listened closely you could hear what exactly what they're saying. Slinking into the chair even more, you still silently awaited for your guests to arrive.

-----------

Everywhere she goes, Tuare is amazed and awed. When she first received a letter from the supposed Lady (Y/N), Lord Ainz's mother, she was shocked. The Lady (Y/N) wants to have a tea party with mere mortal like her?

Many flowers and trees of all kind, what she knows and don't, awed her. Tuare heard through the words of the other maids about the rumored "The Queen's Glade," and the wonders inside. But nobody had the permission to go inside, as it was Lady (Y/N)'s personal quarters. So it was hard to deduce if it was grand as what the maids say, but everyone knows it will be grand. Why wouldn't the garden be grand? That would be an insult to the all powerful, wonderful, merciful, kind Lady (Y/N)! Everyone would be honestly envious if somebody else here were invited to visit the Queen's Glade by Lady (Y/N) herself.

And of course, when Tuare is around, there is a certain butler tagging along behind. Though Sebas never visited the rumored Queen's glade, he was slightly proud that he was the first person to witness the Queen's personal garden with Tuare. Before the 41 supreme leaders had abandoned them, he had once overheard Lord Ainz and Lady (Y/N) discussing about the glade. He was put back on how ancient it actually looks, as he expected it would be neat and tidy - but he doesn't mind. It was rather soothing to see that is much more ancient and natural to the look.

The deeper the two went, the more ancient and glamorous the garden went. Flowers that were big as Tuare opened up, filling the atmosphere with more sweet smelling aromas.

"W-wow... I suppose this is what the rumored 'Queen's Glade' would look, Sebas." Tuare spun around, still in her disbelief that she'll be the first to be personally be invited by Lady (Y/N) here.

"It would be so, Tuare." Sebas agreed, "Though, we should be hurrying. We shouldn't keep Lady-"

"Guests!"

"Come!"

"Follow!"

Chanted the pixies. Many flew by and swirled around Tuare, slightly going forward in the midst of their flight. They continued to lead Tuare towards their mistress, while a bunch of other pixies dragged Sebas along. A funny sight to behold. An old butler being clinged onto a bunch of tiny pixies like magnets. You chuckled softly, amused seeing Sebas' situation on handling your rather pushy pixies summon.

Pulling up a seat for Tuare, your tail gently swatted away the pixies that continued to circle around. The pixies that clinged on Sebas soon dispersed like confetti, following their brothers and sisters to care the garden. Though they also kept a watchful eye on your quests, ready to throw them out if they displeased you in any way possible.

"Come. Take a seat, Tuare." Pulling the seat out even more, you guided her to sit down across of yours. Tuare stared at you in amazement, in disbelief that she'll be seeing the Queen in her grand form - even if she was dress in commoner's clothing. Though, not wanting to disappoint you, she obeyed. Seeing Sebas making for a reach to pour out some tea, you snapped your tail on Sebas' hand. Giving him a simple head shake, you frowned.

"Let me handle this Sebas. You can take a seat with Miss Tuare."

"Lady (Y/N), please let me handle this. You only invited-"

"Sebas, are you questioning my ability to act like a hospitable host?"

"No, Lady (Y/N)."

"Then take a seat and let me be host I am." Sebas only stood behind Tuare, seeming to refuse to sit down to join in with the tea party. You huffed, giving you a slight reminder that Sebas is slightly stubborn with the idea of sitting down along side with the Supreme Leader(s) in whatever shape or form. Even if he was given permission to, he still refused the offer.

"L-lady (Y/N)-"

"Please, Tuare. Call me (Y/N)-"

"But, my lady! It'll be simply an insult towards you!" Tuare interjected. She slightly stood up from her seat, slamming her hands on the table. Sebas slightly moved, but stopped when you raised your hand. Telling Sebas to stand his ground. "Thanks to you creating Lord Ainz, I have been given mercy to live for another day! I'm simply a mortal compared-" Tuare froze in mid sentence, as she already saw a mere fraction of your power coming in action. In an instant, you were already right besides her, gently putting her back in sitting position. You gave her a small closed eye smile, tilting your head slightly to the right. You placed a hand her shoulder, giving her some comfort.

"Please, Tuare. I insist. Call me (Y/N)..."

#Tuare overlord #sebas tian #overlord #mother reader #tuareninya veyron overlord #tuareninya veyron #short imagine #imagine #platonic

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Text

Nat and the House: Jameson

CW: Pet whump survivor, collar mentions, references to past pet whump, referenced ptsd flashbacks

Jake Gets Stabbed: First Second Third Fourth

“Okay, well. Here we are.” Nat opens the door for him, swinging back the heavy wood and stepping inside. The sun is warm on his back, but it drops away into a chill as he steps inside. His eyes shift back and forth, trying to bury his curiosity under a tight jaw and narrowed eyes.

The house is big, although not as big as Jake Stanton’s. It’s old, and creaky, and feels alive in a way that newer houses don’t. It’s a place that has seen so many lives move through its halls, felt so many hands on doorknobs and walls, that it’s taken in some of each person who has slept here. They’ve left something behind, and it’s the breath inside the house.

It’s the whisper of air against the back of his neck, slightly chilled, that tells him that a hundred voices have bounced off these walls, with their own pain and fear, long before his added to the chorus.

Jameson swallows, lingering in the doorway and staring ahead at a carpeted staircase that winds up and disappears around a 90-degree turn, at the coat closet just beside it. There’s a built-in shelf on the landing he can see the bottom half of, lined with photographs in small cheap dollar-store frames.

Off to one side of the entryway, there’s a big double-door-sized opening into a gigantic living room - to the other side, a dining room with a large table covered in boxes, paperwork, books, and some flannels hung from an empty china cabinet, looking still damp, drying. Beyond that, a small kitchen, he can just see the corner of the oven.

This is a house with breath. This is a house with a voice.

The house tastes like a crackling fire, the mix of heated air and chilled, melted marshmallows inside s’mores, the crunch of graham cracker and chocolate bar underneath.

This is a good house.

“Sorry,” Natalie Yoder says over one shoulder, moving ahead of him to flick a light switch. Jameson flinches, just a little, when a warm yellow bulb inside a false chandelier lights above his head. Her braid thumps against her back, a deep chocolate brown with strips of silvery white running through it. “I haven’t had anyone here in a long time, so the house is a mess. Just me these days.”

He nods, even though she can’t see him. Natalie Yoder has a good voice, too, it’s full and warm, it tastes like hot chocolate, the kind that goes light on the sugar and is just a little bitter and spiced with cinnamon. Her voice feels smooth on his tongue. He can trust people who taste like this, he thinks, and he takes another step inside.

“H-How… how long?” His voice croaks a little, it rasps. Long-term damage to his vocal chords, they said, from screaming so often for so long.

She stops and looks back at him, and there’s a gentleness in her tempered by the steel he’s already seen. She gives him a slight smile. “Long enough to speak to Dr. Berger, get you on your meds, and give them time to settle in your system. Could be a month or two to figure out exactly what’s going to work for you. Then see what happens with a couple of controlled interactions.”

He nods again. She speaks like an expert - she is the expert, he guesses, because she’s seen a hundred people like him in her life and Jameson has only ever known himself.

Not that he’s even sure he knows himself that well, most days.

He has his collar on, buckled tightly around his neck, a comfortable constriction. A reminder that he isn’t in control, someone else is, and what happens from here isn’t his fault. It’s not his responsibility, because a pet can’t be responsible for anything.

He left Jake Stanton lying on a couch’s pull-out bed because he can’t go up the stairs, pale and unconscious, and he left Allyn crying in their shared room, curled up in the closet, running their fingers over the names that Jameson carved into the wall there.

He lost control, for just a minute, of where he was and who was with him, and now…

He’s safer with the collar on.

He’s safer, controlled.

They were right - he can’t do this on his own, and he never could.

“You can choose whichever room you like, except that I keep Chris’s room for when he stays over just the same, so not that one. But there’s another three bedrooms you can use.” Nat smiles at him, moving to the stairs and gesturing for him to follow.

They creak under his feet, and the house is speaking to him, whispering here, you’re here, you’re here now in bursts of smoke on his tongue and sweet just after. He licks at his lips, looking down at ancient brown carpeting there, almost long enough to be shag.

For just a second, he sees a flicker of a bright red shag carpet in a large shared loft bedroom, a face very like his own but older, laughing as they threw balled up pieces of paper at each other. Sparkling brown eyes-

Gone-

Jameson shivers and the moment is lost, and he lets it go happily. Whatever happened to him, he has too many other problems right now to dwell on something he’s already chosen to leave behind.

“I’ll take, uh, whichever-... whichever room is closest to the bathroom,” He says, seeing an open door with the telltale tile floor and pale painted walls. She nods, gesturing to a closed door on her left. He pushes open the bathroom door and just stares, for a few long beats. “You have-... dinosaur shower curtains?”

“Oh, Chris loved that,” Nat says, looking over his shoulder briefly. She’s as short as he is, more or less, and somehow her leaning over behind him doesn’t feel quite as unsettling as when Jake Stanton does it, or anyone else.

Shit, maybe they’re all right. Maybe he’ll be safe here… and everyone else will be safe from him.

“I just kept them after he moved out. We can get new ones if they bother you, it’s not a big deal.”

“Uh, no, they’re… they’re fine. I’m going to-... put my stuff down now.” Jameson backs up and she moves away to give him space. The floor creaks softly underfoot as he moves along the hardwood in the hallway, to the closed door of the room he’s chosen sight-unseen.

When he opens it, it’s plain. Just pale walls and two twin beds on opposite sides of the room, side tables with lamps, blankets and pillows. A single framed portrait of a bird on one wall.

He looks out the window to the branches of a tree outside.

“I’m going to go downstairs and make some coffee. Want me to call for you when it’s ready?” She speaks from the doorway, calm and quiet. He loves her hot chocolate voice.

“Sure. I could… I could use some fucking coffee,” He whispers, without looking back.

“No doubt. We’ll figure this out, Jameson, I promise.”

Before she can close the door, he asks, all at once in a rush, “What if I do it again?”

She’s quiet, for a minute. Quiet for long enough his heart starts to pound, he starts to wonder if she’ll lock him in the room, or even kick him back out and tell him to start walking and figure it out on his own. He can’t go back - the last time he was on the streets, he got picked up by Robert, the time before that by Brute. His pulse beats against his collar, and he’s safe with the collar, but only if he’s kept by someone who takes care of him, who won’t hurt him worse. “To Jake?”

“Or… or Allyn. Or you, or-... fuck, anybody. What if they-... made me so I’ll do it again?”

More quiet. He hates the quiet. He wants her hot chocolate voice back. He turns, finally, to see her looking him over with a calm that goes so far beyond his own anxiety and fear, a steady surety that makes her seem more like she’s part of the house than someone who simply lives here.

She’s seen a hundred hands, too, learning not to hurt or be hurt. She’s heard a hundred voices learning to speak up, remembering how to do something other than beg for it to stop. Maybe she is the safehouse, and the building is just… an extension.

He can kind of see why the big guy likes her so fucking much.

“We’re going to do everything in our power to give you the tools you need to keep yourself and everyone around you safe.” She smiles at him, a little, lifting the corner of her mouth just the slightest bit on one side. “It won’t be easy. And it won’t be simple, or immediate. But you aren’t irredeemable, Jameson. Even if you fucked up. Does it help if I tell you I’ve had others hit me, or grab at me, when they’re in a panic and forget where they are?”

He breathes, shallow but slow. “R-Really?”

“Yeah. A half-dozen or so. I caught Chris lost in a nightmare once and he cracked me across the face with his forehead so hard I had a bruise for a week. I’ve been kicked, I’ve been hit.” She exhales, not quite a sigh, and steps inside the bedroom, moving over to one of the beds and sitting down, crossing her legs at the ankles and leaning back, resting her weight on her hands. “I ended up in the ER with a concussion once, early on. One of the ones I lost.” She looks away from him, and he sees the wrinkles in her face suddenly settle deeper, as if the weight of that old grief ages her even now. “He didn’t mean to, the poor guy. He was so scared, but I couldn’t-... I couldn’t keep him. He was so scared of himself he went back to his captor. Never saw him again.”

Jameson takes one step towards her, and then another. It’s unconscious, and he tells himself not to, but he can’t help it. “I’m-... I’m sorry for him.”

“Yeah, me too. I hope he’s doing all right, but… I suspect not. It’s… it’s hard, Jameson, to do this, and sometimes the hard feels like it’s never going to end. Sometimes, they think there’s no choice, no other way.” She looks up at him, and he sees the faintest glimmer of tears that don’t show in her voice, don’t fall down her face. “You’re thinking that, too. That maybe you were better off kept.”

The echo of his own thoughts in her low husky voice sends him reeling, and he can’t find his voice to speak at first. Finally, he manages, “Y-yeah.”

“It’s a lie. I understand why it feels like-... it’s inevitable. But I want you to know... I’ve seen this before. And you’re still better off healing than being sent back to shatter. We’re going to help you, and Kauri-... Kauri’s right, I think. You’ll be safer here for a while, and then you’ll go back and be safe there, too.”

“What if I’m not? Safer there?”

Nat Yoder’s smile softens, and she holds out her hands. She must expect him to sit next to her, because she jumps in surprise when he drops to his knees instead, and lays his head on her thighs, across her lap, feeling the rough denim of her blue jeans against his cheek.

Her hands hover, and then slowly she lowers one, and rests it, gently, over his hair.

“Then you’ll be safe here,” She says, and her voice pours over him, honeyed, deep, the hint of cinnamon and the texture of the thick liquid of his grandmother’s hot chocolate, made always with whole milk and a touch of cream.

Jameson doesn’t question the knowledge of how his grandmother made hot chocolate, and he doesn’t push it away. He just lets it exist, there and then gone a moment later.

“For how long?” Her fingers press just slightly against his temple. Her fingertips are slightly roughened, calloused from hard work. “How l-long am I safe here?”

“The same amount of time I give everyone, Jameson,” She says. “As long as you need.”

“But you said-... you don’t take in anyone anymore-”

“I’m making an exception, and I don’t do anything halfway.” She leans over, and he feels her shadow fall over him. He turns his face to press against her leg, feeling the tears start to well, clenching his eyes shut only to have them fall without his consent, to dampen her jeans.

He shudders. “I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt him-... I thought he was Brute, coming b-back, I didn’t know-”

“I know. I know you didn’t. It’s okay.”

“I know I sh-shouldn’t fucking cry-... I’m the ass-asshole who stabbed him, I shouldn’t c-cry about it, I shouldn’t-” He hitches back a sob, feels his collar catch on his Adam’s apple. It’s not enough to keep him safe. It was never enough to keep him safe.

Her voice washes warm over him, and she runs her hand through his short hair, over the filled-in bald spots shorter than the rest. “You should, if you need to. Go ahead.”

Somehow, once she says he can, he can’t stop himself at all.

Jameson kneels on the floor in a house that has seen a hundred or more people exactly like him, his body wracked with guilt and horror at what he did, what they made him, and his terror that he can’t ever take it back, that he can’t become anything other than what he was made to be.

And through the tears, she keeps one hand on his head, and when he starts to talk to her, she listens.

Outside a bird sings, a mourning dove, calling hoo-hoo, hoo, hoo.

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @whump-tr0pes @raigash @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @eatyourdamnpears @boxboysandotherwhump @whumptywhumpdump @whumpfigure @outofangband @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @thehopelessopus @butwhatifyouwrite @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @newandfiguringitout @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whumpiary @endless-whump @burtlederp

#whump #caretaker and whumpee #ptsd tw #collar mention #past pet whump #pet whumpee #recovering whumpee #jameson bb #natalie yoder: here to help the rescues #abuse survivor tw #referenced cycle of abuse #box boy universe #box boy #bbu

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butwhyduh · 3 years

Text

Ephemoral

Damian Wayne x reader

Summary: another of my betrayal stories. Damian is like 20. I don’t want to betray children lmao.

You were saccharine like the sweet honey candy Damian would eat as a child. Your laughter was a soft melody he adored. And sight of you with tears in your eyes made him want to rip the world apart. His love for you was like an ancient Grecian tale and it scared Damian. He cared too deeply for someone who’s feet were so shallow in this world. He’d died once and could easily do so again.

But laying next to you on a blanket on the south lawn of Wayne Manor, made Damian not care about his fear. You were here and so was he. His eyes watched you stretch and smile. He couldn’t help but lean over to hug your waist. He breathed in your soft perfum deeply with closed eyes.

“Dami! What are you doing?” You laughed and he grinned.

“Capturing the princess,” he said kissing your collarbone. You laughed and pulled away as he tickled your ribs. “You’re so beautiful today. Have I told you?”

“No. I’m only wearing a hoodie and jeans, Dami,” you reminded him.

“It’s not your clothing that makes you beautiful,” Damian said leaning over you. You looked at his intense green eyes framed with thick dark lashes and full brows. His tan skin glowed in the sunshine. “It’s what’s underneath,” he said romantically.

“Kinky,” you whispered in his ear with a grin and he stiffened before rolling his eyes.

“I was trying to be sweet. Though you are quite lovely physically as well, beloved,” Damian conceded. You grinned and grasped the back of his neck. You pulled him into a kiss. You spent most of the unseasonably warm winter day kissing on the lawn. Damian didn’t dare take it further as you were stanch on your beliefs that sex should be private.

“What would you like to eat, my beloved,” he asked later in the day. Damian lay on his back, looking at the dying lights of dust. You had nestled into his arms to watch too.

“Hmmm how about something spicy,” you asked looking over to him. He grinned and nodded. Damian could never tell you no.

“Let’s get changed and we can go eat somewhere properly,” he suggested. You rolled over in his arms to look at his face.

“Really?” You asked. “Don’t you have patrol tonight?”

“Later. But right now, I want to spoil my love,” he said grasping the back of your neck gently to pull you into a kiss.

Damian had gotten a table at an exclusive restaurant. Of course he had. One word and he could go anywhere: Wayne. You considered feeling bad but as you walked up the stairs to a private table on the balcony that watched over Gotham’s night sky, you could care less. The city could be on fire and Damian wouldn’t have noticed. His eyes were on the dress that curved to your form, the soft clicking sound of your heels, the wine colored lipstick you wore.

You chatted softly about things in your life. University classes and hobbies. Damian couldn’t help but feel a guilt. You knew he was a Wayne and was Robin. But you didn’t know he was an Al Ghul or his long complicated past. The fact that he was raised as an assassin. The fact that his mother had verbally threatened to kill you a few times and only Damian’s threats back had stopped her.

“Damian, are you okay?” You asked after a while. He had a hard line of his brow and he was silent. Damian shook himself and sat up straighter.

“I apologize. My mind was wandering,” he admitted. You grasped his hand.

“To what?”

“My mother,” he said truthfully. Damian didn’t know why he told you that. One of your eyebrows rose. He had never said anything about her and the issue seemed painful.

“Really?”

“Yes. 2 days ago was her birthday,” Damian said. Not that the league would ever celebrate simply being born. You had to earn a celebration in war or strategy.

“Oh. Do you speak to her,” you finally asked. You’d wanted to know for a long time but was scared to bring it up. Why was he willing to share Robin with you but not his own mother?

“No. I haven’t in years. She’s....” Damian failed to come up with the right words. A murderer? Assassin? Cold heartless bitch? No. In her own way, she loved him. And unfortunately it was a deeply dysfunctional way. “Strong willed. And hard to get along with. It’s hard to explain.”

“I see. Do you want to get along with her? You’re a grown man now. Surely she would respect that,” you said and he almost rolled his eyes at how innocent and naive you sounded. His mother would rather rip out her own spine than let Damian be his own man if it was up to her. Damian simply squeezed your hand gently.

“I don’t think so. She believes eternal ‘I’m your mother, listen to me.’ We’ve butt heads for years over it. Even though we live across the globe apart,” Damian said with a rueful smile. He hadn’t told you about her, not really. But it felt good to tell you that his relationship with her wasn’t great. It was partial honesty at least.

“Where does she live,” you asked and his brain froze for a half minute. That was something he could not answer. She was far too dangerous to know about. Ignorance was truly bliss on the account.

“She travels a lot. China, Middle East, Peru. She doesn’t stay in one place very long,” Damian said. He was truthful at least.

“Wow. She must have a great job to travel like that. What does she do,” you asked. He almost laughed in frustration. When did you become the detective? That’s not fair to you. Inquisition is not a flaw in of itself.

“She works in defense contracts. It’s very confidential and complicated,” he finally answered. You nodded sagely.

“Like the rest of your family. Complicated and confidential,” you answered giving him a wry smile. Damian smiled back.

“Perhaps. Perhaps. I hate to eat and run, beloved. But duty calls. Can I call you a car to the manor?” Damian asked. You nodded. There was one company that the Wayne family would hire rides from. One of Alfred’s ex military buddies owned a contractor company that hired private security that doubled as drivers. Confidential and discreet was their motto and they had never let down the family.

20 minutes later a member of the staff walked you, and a small box of food from the dessert platter, to a waiting car. The driver was a quiet intense looking man. He had obvious muscles despite being in a full suit. It wasn’t a surprise. He was security after all.

“Wayne Manor, please sir,” you called to him. He nodded.

“Of course Madame,” he answered in a very soft accent that wasn’t Gothamite. You sat back and relaxed. It was almost 11 and you were getting a little tired. Your head began to droop and your eyes became heavy. It was in that moment that the car made a wrong turn. You sat up straight.

“Sir, it was supposed to be a right turn back there. You’ve gone the wrong way,” you said. He only rolled the partition closed. You gasped. “Sir,” you said forcefully as he drove faster the wrong way. You looked at your phone and noticed a no service sign. There was no way with the amount Damian paid for it. You tried the knob at a stop sign to find it locked like you worried. Your heart pounded roughly. You were being kidnapped.

For 2 hours, the car drove farther and farther out of Gotham. Your city was nowhere to be seen and you didn’t have a clue where you were. The car finally drove up the gravel drive of what looked like a military compound. You gulped as it stopped. The door opened and the man motioned for you to get out. You shrank to the back of the seat.

“If you don’t come out willingly, I will have to drag you and I’d hate to ruin your pretty dress,” he said in a tone that made you think that he hoped to ruin your clothing. Your eyes were wide but you climbed out on your own. He looked you over hungrily before shoving your shoulder toward the front door. You gasped. Your heels made loud clicking noises on the concrete floor and you almost grimaced at how loud you felt. There was no sneaking in here.

He walked you up a set of stairs into a private room. The man gave you a look over before locking you in. Almost as an insult, he hadn’t bothered to take your phone from you. It was useless without any signal.

In another room, Talia lounged in a chair. She watched the security footage of your room. You looked around stiffly before finally sitting on the corner of the bed. You were kidnapped and being held in a cement room in the middle of nowhere without a way to contact anyone in a dress and heels. This was less than ideal.

“I wonder what my son sees in her. She didn’t fight at all. Came willingly. Not much in the way of protecting herself. How could she possibly be a good partner,” Talia asked and the men beside her knew better than to answer. Talia decided to meet you herself.

She casually opened the door and walked in. You stared at her. Talia smiled softly. You were terrified and scared people are easy to control.

“Hello,” she started. “My name is Talia, and you are dating my son, Damian.”

What an odd specific coincidence that you would see her right after talking about her. She wasn’t dressed as if she was in the military and damn sure wasn’t in China or Peru. What didn’t Damian tell you?

“I simply had to meet you. I must say that I’m... disappointed. You aren’t much of a fighter, are you?” She said. Much like a good lawyer, Talia asked questions she already knew the answer to.

“I didn’t know I needed to be,” you said and she grinned.

“No. But you do have a mouth. Such a pretty little one. Too bad,” she said and before you could comprehend what she meant, you were hit in the mouth. You cried out in pain and covered your face in your hand. Your shoulders curled around you protectively and you scooted to the back of the bed. You could taste iron and you wiped away some blood. She had busted your lip already.

“Didn’t even attempt to deflect my hit. And your soft lip burst open instantly. You could never handle a real fight,” she said before tutting. You could only stare up at her as she towered over you. She was right. Damian had taught you a few self defense maneuvers but you had never fought anyone.

You could see parts of her that were in Damian. Besides the obvious skin color, she had his intense eyes and her predatory mannerisms. Damian had never used it on you, but you had seen Robin scare criminals without a word. You had thought it was a Batman thing, but it was from her. Batman hung over them like a predatory bird that killed quickly, with mercy. Talia looked at them the way a cat looked at a mouse. She was going to play with them before eating. You resisted the urge to shiver.

“Damian will be here in a few hours. Why don’t I see if I can toughen you up beforehand,” she said smiling. Talia gripped your shoulder and dug her nails in. You groaned. You tried to pull away.

“No no, dear. That will cost you,” she said before backhanding your face. You gasped out a sob as blood started flowing again.

—————————

It took Damian a full 3 hours to realize you were missing. Embarrassingly long time in his mind. He called the car company to ask about the ride. Damian expected you to be asleep and didn’t want to wake you to calm his mind.

“Mr Wayne, we have an issue,” a woman’s crisp voice cake through the phone. Damian was taking a break on a rooftop.

“What do you mean,” he growled. She stuttered before answering.

“ we can’t find the driver. He won’t respond to our cal-“

“How long? How long have you known?” He asked. Damian was pacing the rooftop with pure murder on his face.

“About an hour, sir. We called GCPD immediately,” she said.

“Your incompetence astounds me,” he said before hanging up. Damian called you instantly. After the fifth time of your phone ringing to voicemail, he was almost in a panic. He sat down breathing deeply. He could call his father but this was his problem. He’d give it 2 hours and then call Bruce.

It was 10 minutes before he had his answer. There was a loud clicking sound in his comms signaling that Oracle was about to talk.

“Robin, there is a man tied up with a sign for you,” she said. “5th and Cherrry behind the gazebo. Police have already taken him into custody for care and questioning. But the message...” she trailed off.

“The Wayne place where it all started. Where you started. Or she’s dead,” Oracle read. “Does that mean anything Robin? Should I contact Batman? Nightwing?”

“No. I’ll take care of it,” he said hanging up on her. Damian knew exactly where to go as gross at it was. Bruce’s old compound in the woods where Damian was conceived. Of course his mother would reference something that weird. It was a full two hour drive up there and Damian was flying on his motorcycle. The place was now privately owned, probably the league. He climbed in through a side window, pulling out his swords as he snuck around. He turned a corner and stopped.

“My son,” Talia said with a false warmth. Damian looked over at her and she grinned. Behind her was you and Damian’s heart dropped. You were on your knees, your arms tied above your head in a V shape. The delicate dress you had worn to dinner only a few hours before was dirty with one strap hanging on your arm. The topside of your breast was visible as you breathed erratically. Spot of blood and dirt clung to the dress and Damian could see the sweat on you from where he stood yards away. Your bottom lip was bloody and swollen and you had the beginnings of a black eye. Talia had definitely been hurting you.

You looked up at him, your eyes were so fucking scared but hopeful. Hopeful that he would save you. But the second Damian moved towards you, Talia put a dagger to your throat.

“Okay Mother. You have my attention. What do you want?” Damian asked. He covered the raw rage in his voice with a blankness. She would win if he was emotional.

“I wanted to meet your companion. She is on a whole.... disappointing. Weaker than a kitten. No fight. She is not worthy of you, Damian. Not someone who you should conceive heirs of the Al Ghul line with. She is nothing,” Talia said.

Now Damian wanted to fight his mother, say that you were more important to him than she ever was. But if he did that, the target on your back was forever. And he didn’t think his mother would simply beat you next time. So he did something he hated.

“Mother. You misunderstand the situation. I have no intention of having children with her. I only keep her around to amuse me,” he said and your mouth fell open. You sagged against the ropes. “You’ve wasted your time kidnapping a toy. Mother, I thought you better than this. Let her go.”

You started crying. You were nothing to him. Just like you always feared. You weren’t wealthy or connected or powerful. Damian had been playing with you and you fell in love.

“Why don’t I just kill her,” she suggested and you gasped.

“No. As Robin, I cannot let you kill an innocent. She’s been naive but doesn’t deserve that,” he said and Talia backed away.

A side window broke. Batman and Nightwing landed on the ground. Talia’s men began fighting. Damian ran towards her and she evaded him.

“I won’t kill her. You have my words. But what I did was nothing compared to what you did, my son,” she said with a laugh. She ran past Bruce. “My beloved. We will meet again,” she said before climbing in an armored car that pulled up. The three heroes took out her men and tied them up.

Damian quickly ran to you and cut the rope with his katana. You fell into his arms. You were barely awake and tears fell down your face. Damian looked you over before hugging you tight. You tried to push him away.

“Don’t,” you said wetly. “Don’t touch me,” you said wobbly on your feet. “I’m not your toy.”

“Beloved. I said all of that to save you. I love you,” he said trying to get close and you put your arm up.

“No. I just want to go home,” you said barely pushing past him. You only made it a few steps before you collapsed. Damian caught you and half carried you bridal style as you looked away from him and sobbed. Nightwing came over quickly, sending the trouble.

“I can help you,” he asked and you pushed from Damian’s arms to his. Dick carried you to the batmobile. You sat sobbing in your hands.

“What happened?” Dick asked after closing the door and standing by Damian.

“I had to tell mother I was not interested in her. What I said was cruel, I’ll admit. But she wanted to kill her, Richard,” Damian said. His whole face looked pained. Dick nodded.

Damian followed the batmobile to the cave. Dick carried you to the med bay where your cuts and scrapes were cleaned. You changed clothing. Ice was applied to your bruises and you looked so close to sleep. Damian stood close by nervously.

“Go away,” you said to him and Damian’s brows furrowed and he closed his eyes. “I don’t want you near me.”

He nodded and left the area. Instead, Damian watched you on the main monitor. You cried into a pillow before falling asleep. Damian could barely watch.

“What do I do?” He asked Dick miserably. “How do I take back what I said?”

“Give her time. Give her space. She’ll just to process it first” Dick suggested. Damian nodded.

That’s how you went an entire month without seeing him. He watched you everyday. Damian gave you all the space you needed. It was long after your lip had healed before he spoke to you. You stayed at a friend’s house. You signed up for college classes, got a job at a coffee shop, and just tried to move on.

But it had truly fucked you up. Yeah, you had nightmares about Talia beating the shit out of you. But what was worse was that every memory of Damian was tainted. Did he truly love you or was he simply playing with you. He seemed like he had loved you. Was it all fake?

He came to your work. It was purely an accident. Damian just wanted a coffee. He walked up to the counter pulling out his wallet and almost dropped it when he saw you. Your hair was falling out of a hairnet and your white dress shirt had seen better day. But Damian thought you looked so beautiful.

“Hi,” he said and you stiffened.

“Damian,” you breathed.

“How- how are you?” He asked.

“Fine. Do you want a coffee or something? There’s a line,” you motioned behind him. He quickly ordered a drink.

“Can I talk to you sometime?” He asked as you made the drink.

“Uuh.”

“Yes? Give me just a few minutes of your time,” he begged and you stopped to look at him. You sighed.

“I have a break in 15 minutes. You can talk then I guess,” you answered. You handed him his coffee.

“Thanks. Great,” he said with a determined look before sitting at a table. Damian watched you work almost the entire time. It was a little unnerving but how he used to be before.

You sat down with a drink beside him. Damian played with his fingers before speaking. You couldn’t help notice how handsome he looked in a dark green Henley and black jeans.

“I’m sorry I haven’t tried to talk to you earlier,” he started. “But I need you to know, everything I said that night to my mother was a lie. I have never thought of you like that. But if I showed interest in you, she would have targeted you. I should have told you about her earlier.”

“What does she really do?”

Damian sighed.

“She’s an assassin. She raised me to be one until I was 8 and then I moved in with my father. I should have warned you about her. She’s crazy. Obsessed with the lineage in our family. It’s very strange. I don’t share her beliefs,” he said.

“That’s good because that was... weird. I mean, the whole thing was but her talking about heirs was super weird,” you said taking a drink.

“Yeah. Yeah. I sometimes think she picked Bruce because of his pedigree. But more important that any of that madness is you. I miss you,” he says earnestly. You gulped.

It was painful. He called you everything you worried about. Nothing but a toy. A distraction.

“I really really miss you. Because I-“ he struggled to speak. “I love you,” Damian finally said. He had never said that one. He had always danced just beside those words.

“Dami,” you said cautiously.

“I love you. And I always have,” he said holding your hand. You didn’t pull away. “Please let me make it up to you. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“I- I don’t know,” you said feeling yourself fall under his spell.

“Please,” he whispered leaning towards you. You leaned in as well. His pretty green eyes stared at you, pleading. You couldn’t say no to him either.

“Okay,” you said. Damian gently, like he might break you, gave you a kiss. He pulled back to look at your face for any reaction. You had a little smile before giving him another kiss.

#fns #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader #batboy x reader #Damian al ghul x reader #Damian Wayne angst #betrayal stories

264 notes · View notes

saltymiraculer · 4 years

Text

Ceremonial Kisses (Part 2 of 3)

Ahhhhh, thank you for all the support I’ve gotten on this fic! It is with great pleasure I present to you *trumpet noise* Part 2 of Ceremonial Kisses!

I apologize for the huge wait, and I’m really sorry about my update schedule in general.

Also, you might notice that around the middle of this chapter, the writing gets a little bit choppy, and I’m super sorry about that! My apartment just decided to evict anyone with a cat, and I’m under a lot of stress right now. Thankfully, it gets smoother towards the end!

Happy reading!

Part 1 | Part 3

-🌸-

After ten minutes of gorging themselves on the Chinese equivalents of Kit-Kats and Lays chips, they pulled up to a hotel.

“Whaf, wewen’t we goih to da cashale?“ Nino asked, his mouth stuffed with cookies. Marinette shot him a disgusted look. He swallowed and took a swig of soda. “Wait, weren’t we going to the castle?“

Marinette had been thinking the same thing. This couldn’t be an ancient Chinese palace–it looked like a hotel!

“My instructions have changed. I was informed you would be staying at the Overseas Suites instead.“ The driver (she still didn’t know his name) said, pulling up to the front of the hotel.

As soon as they stepped out, they remembered that time zones existed.

It was 5:00 PM there.

They were going to be up all night.

The driver handed Marinette a gold-embossed business card with a phone number written on it.

“Call me whenever you need a lift, miss Marinette.“ He stepped back into the car and drove off.

Marinette shrugged and stuffed the card in her pocket. “Well, that was weird. Let’s go inside now, it’s freezing.”

As soon as they walked inside, Bustier scurried up to them.

“Where were you? You had me worried sick!“

Before anyone could say anything, the chauffeur from earlier appeared.

“I am Marinette’s uncle, ma’am. I heard she was going to be staying in China for a week and I just had to see her. The school was informed that I would be picking her and her friends up.“

“Oh–well–you still should have told me where you were going!“

“But shouldn’t you have already known?“ Marinette asked sweetly. “I mean, you were informed of it, weren’t you?“

Ha. She had her there!

“W-well, yes, technically, I was…but it’s time to go to your rooms! Off you go, everybody!“

“Oh, wait, I’m sharing a room with Marinette, right?“ Alya asked.

“Yeah, I think so.“

“Shit. Guys, I’ve got to share a room with Adrien. Say your prayers, ‘cause I don’t know if I’ll make it out alive.“

Oh, right. I guess it’s time to explain.

Adrien had stayed with his “high road” approach, but not in the way that she had expected. He started treating Lila to lunch, buying her jewelry, asking her to school dances, the whole shebang.

But it was all so forced that nobody believed any of it, and one day, all the ‘affection’ had just stopped.

Lila milked it for all it was worth, blaming Marinette and Nino and Alya, and the president of some far-off African country, and Adrien...

Something changed.

His face was more gaunt and his cheeks were more hollow, and he barely ever talked to anyone, just shrugged them off and turned away.

He was, to put it frankly, terrifying.

Which was not good for Nino at all.

“Oh, I’m sorry, class, but Ivan will be sharing a room with Nino. Adrien and Nathaniel will be roommates.“

All three of them heaved a sigh.

“Okay, so I’m sleeping tonight, that’s a plus.“ Nino joked. “What are we doing for dinner?“

“Um, I think Bustier said there was food already in the rooms. There are kitchenettes and, like, boxes of pasta and stuff. The trip was sponsored by–“ Marinette suddenly froze. She was contemplating how to finish her sentence when Alya finished it for her.

“–By your family, right?“

“Yeah. It feels so weird to say that, like–me? A princess? I’d probably trip over my own dress.“

“I know what you mean, girl. Now, let’s go get some food.“

After scurrying back up to their respective rooms and scarfing down some fettuccine, they fell asleep almost immediately, despite it being only about 3:00 in Paris.

Which, in hindsight, was probably why they woke up at two in the morning and started eating Cheerios with chocolate milk.

“Marinette, it’s so early!“ Alya said, stretching her arms towards the ceiling. “What should we do until it’s time for the first tour?“

“Wanna play Uno?“

And play Uno they did, a six-round monstrosity that lasted five hours and many draw-four cards.

There was a knock on the door and they both whipped around. “Girls, are you awake yet?“ a muffled voice asked. “You have to be down in the lobby in ten minutes!”

Alya and Marinette looked at each other. “Shit!” they yelled, jumping up and grabbing clothes out of drawers. They took the elevator down to the lobby after getting dressed, only to face something that made them wish they hadn’t.

Lila.

“And since the princess was so touched by what I did for her, she told me that she’d grant me any favor!“

“So…what was the favor?“ Mylene asked, inching closer.

“I asked her to bring our class on this trip, of course! Because I love my friends–unlike some people.“ She tilted her head in Marinette and Alya’s direction.

“When did you get here? Were you eavesdropping on our conversation?“ Kim shouted.

A few of them turned pink and tried to turn away.

“No, but I’m sure we’ll hear plenty of other horrible things about ourselves from you guys on this trip.“ Marinette said.

“Oh, get over yourselves! Lila’s the one who got us here, and she can kick you out just as easily. Right, Lila?“

“Of course! Marinette, I really want to be friends, but after the way you’ve treated everyone, it’s only fair I had to do what I did!“

“Oh? And what exactly did you do?“ Alya challenged, putting her hands on her hips. Alix smirked and nudged Kim with her elbow.

“Let’s just say…some of the tours might not be for you.“ Sabrina interjected, swiping something on a familiar white tablet. Marinette’s eyes widened. “Did you steal Bustier’s tablet just so you could take us off the tours? You risked suspension for that?!”

“Well, Mari-nette, you should be surprised to know that some people are willing to take risks for their friends.“ Kim snapped over his shoulder, earning many a nod from Lila’s entourage.

“Kids!“ Bustier yelled, startling them all. “What are you doing with my tablet?“

“Um–uh_Marinette stole it and threw it to us!“ Lila replied nervously.

Everyone turned to Marinette. “Marinette, I expect better from you! You just earned yourself a week of detention when we get back to Paris.“ She whisked the tablet out of Sabrina’s arms before Marinette could protest, and turned around, taking a deep breath.

When she faced the class again, she had a smile back on her face.

“Okay! Today, we will be touring a replica of one of the ancient Chinese palaces. Please behave yourselves.“

She started walking out, and the class followed her, Alya and Marinette tagging behind. Nino joined them soon after.

“So, that was weird.“

“No kidding.“

Once they had stepped off the bus in front of the palace, everyone stopped. Of course, they had all done a bit of googling about the places they would visit, but seeing everything live and in person was taking it to a whole new level.

“Whoa,“ they whispered. Even Lila, who wanted nothing more than to break something, was dumbfounded by this wonder of architectural beauty.

Miss Bustier was the one to break the silence. Clearing her throat, she said “Well, shall we head inside?”

As they shuffled inside, Marinette secretly wished she had about eight more eyes so she could take in everything she was seeing. But she had to be on high alert, Lila and her crew were sure to pull something nasty.

“Ah, and this,“ Bustier gasped. “This is one of the things I was looking most forward to seeing.

“As you all know, the princess will be coronated soon, and this is exactly why I wanted to take you here. This is a replica of an ancient Chinese coronation hall, isn’t it breathtaking?“

Lila snapped out of her trance and elbowed Kim, whispering something in her ear that made both of them snicker.

“Hey, Marinette!“ he yelled, running up to her. “What are you doing?“ Marinette watched in horror as he pushed a porcelain vase off of a pedestal, backing away immediately so she was the only one in the area.

Everything seemed to go in slow-motion after that.

Everyone in the room turning to them.

Lila’s grin turning up towards her ears in an almost Grinch-like fashion.

Marinette diving to catch the delicate artifact and balancing it in one hand just before it smashed on the floor.

Security appearing to lecture them.

“Now, miss, what you did was punishable by law,“ one of them said. “And by nature I’ll have to ask you and your whole gang to leave, if you don’t want the royal family to press charges.“

“The-the royal family?“ Lila squeaked. Marinette sighed and stood up.

“I’m sorry, sir,“ she said, hanging her head.

“Wait just a second!“ Someone in the crowd yelled. “That guy in the red hoodie pushed it–I saw it with my own two eyes! The girl saved the vase!“

“Yeah, why don’t you go check the security cameras? I’m sure the girl was the one who stopped it from breaking!“

“No, no, I’m quite sure I saw Marinette push the vase.“ Bustier interrupted. “She’s quite the troublemaker, and it wouldn’t be inconceivable for that to happen.“

“I’m terribly sorry, miss, but only once we review the security footage can we make a decision.“

They left with a promise to return as soon as they were done, and everyone started at Marinette.

Nino was the first to speak.

“Alright, who’s gonna fess up? Marinette didn’t do it, I didn’t do it, Alya didn’t do it. So who did?“

Marinette saw the look on Lila’s face. There was no wriggling out of this one.

“Kim did it! I saw…he tried to warn Marinette about a huge bug, but she had this evil look on her face and moved out of the way…and Kim accidentally pushed the vase.“

“What?! That never happened.“ Nino said, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, I was there the whole time, and there weren’t any bugs.“ Alya said, leaning against a wall. “Give it up, Lila. The security guys’ll be back in a minute.“

“Actually, we’re already here.“ said a deep voice. “The boy’ll need to come with us.“

“Oh, please don’t!“ Bustier cried. “He’s only a kid, he didn’t know any better!“

-🌸-

“I’m sorry, miss, but the security footage suggests otherwise. Though, if you pay a fine, all charges will be dropped.“

“What’s the amount?“ She asked nervously, pulling out her checkbook and hoping euros would translate into whatever the Chinese currency was.

“794.71 yuan.”

“Do you take euros?“ Caline asked weakly. Nino glared at her, and several of her students looked dumbfounded.

“You didn’t bring Chinese money…on a trip to China?! Even Kim brought some!“

Kim suddenly looked scared. “I don’t have to give up my money, do I?”

She sighed. “No, you don’t. If anything, Marinette should be the one paying. How much is that in euros?“

“100, I believe. We do take euros, if you’ll follow me.“ She sighed and shrugged.

“Kids, please don’t push anything else over. I’ll be right back.“

-🌸-

As soon as Bustier hurried away after leading them outside, everyone glared at Marinette except Alya and Nino. Lila still didn’t understand why they had left her, Alya had just stormed up to her one day and yelled, but that was besides the point.

“Marinette, how could you blame this all on Kim? Now Miss Bustier has to pay eight hundred euros!“ Lila cried, earning Marinette a few glares.

She smirked inwardly. Now, if only she could have gotten Marinette arrested…

“Eight hundred yuan, Lila. It’s only a hundred euros, and besides, it would have cost much more if Marinette hadn’t caught the vase.“ Nino said, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, but she’s gonna call my mom. Do you know how long she’s gonna ground me for? Thirty years!“

“Marinette, what is wrong with you?“ Alix accused. “You seriously need an attitude adjustment. And I think I know just what we need to adjust.“ She whispered something into Lila’s ear and smirked.

“But hey, all disagreements aside, do you want a drink?“ Lila asked, shoving Marinette backwards. She stumbled a bit, and Nino and Alya tried to stop her, but she fell back into a large fountain and emerged a second later, sopping wet.

Her hair had come out of the bun, her makeup was running, and her clothes were soaked through.

Everything was going according to plan. “Oh, Marinette, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to…I was only trying to squish a mosquito!”

“Mosquito?“ Marinette seethed through gritted teeth. Her expression was terrifying.

Lila backed away, as did most of the class. “This was one-of-a-kind, Lila. You ruined it. Chloé should know!“

Everyone turned to Chloé for an answer to the nonexistent question. “I didn’t get her that shirt on purpose! My mom did!” She yelled, ducking into a bathroom. Lila shrugged.

“Marinette!“ Bustier screamed, appearing at just the right time. “What are you doing?!”

Lila interrupted Marinette before she could even speak. “Marinette was trying to push me into the fountain, but I dodged.“ She glanced to the side, where Nino was helping Marinette dry off with handfuls of paper towels. She frowned, then looked over at Alya.

Bad idea.

“Miss Bustier, I have a question. Why would Marinette, one of the most non-violent people we know, try to push Lila into a fountain? Especially after she was just proven innocent? Do you really think that she would compromise her innocence like that?“

Miss Bustier looked alarmed. Lila gritted her teeth–she would have to lay low for a while if she wanted anyone to believe that Marinette would do anything wrong.

They're such idiots, she thought to herself. I’ve got practically the whole class under my thumb.

“Lila? Are you coming? We’re going back to the hotel so nothing else gets damaged.“ She shot a pointed look at Marinette, who was dripping all over the floor.

“O-of course, Miss!“

They caught a bus back to their resort, and Lila was delighted to see that Nino’s efforts had come to no avail trying to distance Marinette from the older men who approached her from behind.

-🌸-

“Marinette, I can’t believe that little liar.“ Alya said, seething. “She must be getting cocky. Like a game of ‘catch me if you can.’ She’ll have to lay off you for a few days if she wants anything to be believable, though.“

Marinette was toweling off her hair, deep in thought.

“This isn’t like her. Normally, she would stop after the vase and lay off for the rest of the day, maybe badmouth me a little at dinner, but know when to quit.“

“Well, I think you should just bop her in the head with your yo-yo.“ Alya added.

“Agreed!“ Trixx squeaked.

“I don’t normally condone using the Miraculous for selfish purposes, but I’ll let this one slide. You know what to do, Marinette! Get those spots on!“

“Guys,“ Marinette sighed, tossing the towel onto her bed. “That’s not the point. I just want a peaceful few days before I have to deal with her again. Is that too much to ask?“

“Not at all, Marinette!“ Tikki said, nuzzling her cheek. “Just know that I’m always here if you need me!“

“Thanks,“ she whispered.

Two Glorious, Lila-free days later...

“So, Marinette, it’s your free day!” Tikki chirped, patting Marinette’s face. “What do you want to do?”

“Sleep,“ she grumbled.

“No, silly! I mean after you visit your family!“

Marinette bolted upright. “What?!”

“You didn’t remember? You’re supposed to meet your biological parents today for brunch at 10.“

“And what time is it now?“ She asked, jumping out of bed to see if Alya was awake.

“5:30.“

“So I only have four hours to get ready?! That’s not nearly enough!“

“Marinette...? Why are you up so early...?“ Alya mumbled sleepily.

“I’m meeting my family!“ she squawked.

Alya sat up and put on her glasses. “Oh. Want me to help you get ready?“ she asked, walking over to the kitchenette for a glass of water.

“That would be great. Now, can you hurry up!?“

Alya took a long sip. “Calm down, Marinette. Do you want them to think you’re nervous all the time? You don’t want that in a princess. Take a deep breath.“ Marinette glared. Taking a deep breath, she focused on how tranquil she would be.

Her mom would probably be there. Wait–mom–not really her mom, but who she...used to think her mom was? Agh, now she was nervous again!

“So, Marinette, what do you want to wear? Something more traditional, or something that’s a little more...you?“ Alya asked, setting her empty cup down on the counter.

“I don’t want to offend them by just wearing, like, a nice blouse and jeans...but I don’t want to overdress. What do I do?“

Alya munched on a bagel thoughtfully. “Do you still have that qipao dress from a few months ago? The pretty pink one with cherry blossoms on it?“

Marinette nodded and pulled a blur of pink fabric out of her suitcase. She shut the bathroom door, and when she came out a second later, she thought that maybe she actually had a chance to make a good first impression.

On her mom.

Hoo boy.

-🌸-

When Marinette stepped out of the bathroom, Alya immediately started squealing. “Marinette, you look perfect!”

The outfit was simple, no more than a short-sleeved, a-line dress if not for the neckline, which resembled a traditional qipao, adorned with tiny embroidered flowers.

Marinette twirled around. “You like it? I was thinking of wearing those light pink heels. What do you think?”

“Do it.“

🌸 at brunch because op sucks 🌸

“Good morning, miss. Where are you headed today?“

Marinette glanced down at the little card in her hands. “The east dining room, please.”

The man at the desk raised his eyebrows so high they were in danger of disappearing into his curly grey hair. “Right this way, your Royal Highness.” he said, pointing her towards an entryway with a significantly fancier arch than the rest.

She walked down a seemingly endless hallway, wondering when she would get to eat, when the narrow room exploded into a dining room larger than her house.

“Ah, hello…Marinette.“ a peaceful voice greeted her. “I’ve been waiting for you!“

“Hi.“ was all she managed to squeak out. The lady in front of her was stunningly beautiful, with black hair that fell in a curtain down to her waist, wearing nearly the same dress as her, but in what looked like red silk.

“Sit, please!“ she said eagerly. “I’d love to get to know you.“

Marinette awkwardly positioned herself in ont of the high-backed chairs.“Okay.“

The lady sat on the chair opposite from her. “My name is Fei. I’m so sorry to have just...left you with my cousin for years, but I really do hope you can forgive me. This is all a bit hectic–trust me, I know–but I believe that if we can get along, this will go smoothly. What do you say?”

Fei had a warm smile, but there was a nervous undertone to her words. She had felt that way before, and a new feeling coursed through her body. Marinette moved forwards forwards and hugged her. “I’d like that.”

She seemed surprised at first, but hugged her back immediately but then let go almost as fast. “Look, I’m just ecsatic, about this, but if it’s uncomfortable calling me ‘mom’, or anything else, I need you to know that it’s okay. You can call me Fei, you can call me mom, you can call me māmā, anything you want. Okay?”

“Thank you.“ Marinette said, looking down. “It’s nice to know I have you. I think it’ll take a while for me to…adjust, but I’m so happy to know that you’re okay with that. Now, can we stop being so serious and eat?“

She beamed. “That sounds great, Marinette!”

After a few minutes of slightly awkward eating, Marinette cleared her throat. “So, other than the whole coronation thing, are there any other princess-y things I’ll have to do while I’m here?”

Fei choked on her water. “Actually…” she coughed. “I’m glad you asked. See, this is only day three of your 10-day trip. We need to get outfits, jewelry, speeches, everything prepared, and I don’t know if we’ll be able to do it all in time.”

Marinette was soeechless. This was unexpected.

“But that’s not all. I have to intruduce you to my mother, my husband, the whole royal family. “ She was sounding increasingly stressed with each sentence. “Everything has to be taken into account.“

“Hey, it’ll be okay!“ Marinette assured. “Things happen. They’ll sort themselves out. I promise.“

“I know. I have to be calm and levelheaded, or else my mom will take over. If that happens, you’ll end up naked at your coronation, or worse, if my husband takes responsibility, he’ll give it to my mom three days later. Do you know what I mean?“

Marinette nodded. “I know, but sometimes things will just happen. But other times, you have to work for them, you know? As long as you don’t give up on it, it will work out. I promise.”

“Hah–usually I’m the one giving the pep talks. Thank you, Marinette, I-I really needed that. How about you go and…meet up with some of your friends? No use in talking to a boring old lady any longer. Go on!“ she said, motioning towards the door.

Marinette turned back and smiled. “Um...bye, I guess!” she murmured, waving.

-🌸-

“So, Alya, when’s Mari getting back from breakfast with her peeps?” Nino asked as they walked down the street.

“I don’t know. I’ll text. If she replies, she’s free. If she doesn’t, she’s still the–“

“Hey guys, what’d I miss?“ Marinette asked, appearing in front of them. he screamed. “Where did you come from?“

“Brunch.“

“Marinette? You’re already done? We were about to go check out some of the tourist shops.“ Alya remarked, scrolling through something on her phone. Nino rolled his eyes.

“We were going to text you, but since you’re already here, what do you want to do?“ he questioned. Marinette fidgeted with her dress.

“Actually, that sounds fun. Which ones were you thinking?“

“Um, there’s actually one right there.“ Nino said, pointing around her to a shop with neon signs covering the whole window. “It looks fun.“

“So let’s go!“

They walked into the shop, the door jingling cheerfully behind them, and immediately things started catching their eyes. “Oh. My. God. Nino, are you seeing these?” Alya blurted. “They have Carapace merch. We’re world famous!”

Marinette was examining a bracelet with plastic rhinestones on it. “This looks like the bracelet from yesterday’s museum. Isn’t it pretty?” She dug through the bin. “Oh, they have other replicas, too? Awesome.”

Nino walked around, perusing the shelves, not really finding anything that sparked his interest. He picked up a trinket here and there, maybe checked a price tag, but wasn’t very interested. But then he saw it.

“An authentic OctoInk ‘I ain’t callin’ you a truther’ t-shirt? The printing block had an extra line, and only 47 of these were made!“

“Dude.“ Alya and Marinette whispered simultaneously.

“Um, how much is this shirt?“ Nino asked innocently, showing it to the girl at the register. She looked up uninterestedly, blowing a bubble with her gum.

“8 yuan.“ She scoffed. “Like that thing would sell for any more.“

“Hey, this is a nearly one-of-a-kind piece that–mmph!“

“Don’t tell her it’s supposed to be expensive!“ Alya hissed in his ear. “That’s the opposite of what you do!“

Wayzz poked him from his pocket. “She is not wrong, Nino. Purchase the shirt for eight yuan, if it makes you so happy.”

“I’ll take it.“ he said. Marinette put her bracelet on the register with an ‘eh, what the heck?‘ sort of expression. Alya placed a tiny glass turtle on the counter, and Nino felt a flush spreading over his face.

Alya smiled.

-🌸-

“So, Marinette, why did you get that bracelet?“ Alya asked once they had left the shop. “It looks pretty real, but you have way nicer jewelry at home. Like the necklace you wore this morning?“

“Yeah, but this one looks like the one from the museum. I know it seems silly, but it feels special.“ she said, twisting it around her wrist.

“Nah, I get it. And speaking of special, here comes a special little liar.“

Marinette’s head straightened immediately. “Aw, shit. And here I was thinking this would be a nice day.“

“Oh, hello, Marinette!“ Lila purred, snaking into the space between Nino and her. “I love your bracelet. It looks expensive…“ and with that, she sauntered away, all other interactive possibilities completely wasted.

“Well, that went better than I’d hoped.“ Nino chuckled.

“Ooh, Nino, there’s an art gallery! Want to check it out?“

“Sure thing, babe!“ He turned to Marinette. “Wanna come?“

“You can go without me, I’m going to get a bite to eat.“

“But–didn’t you just get back from–never mind.“ They walked into the gallery, chatting about who-knows-what.

Marinette spun around, and immediately someone on a blue bike yelled a split second before they knocked her over.

“Aaaack, my bike!” A male voice yelled. Marinette tried to open her eyes and stood up. A pale boy with bangs that hung over his eyes stared at her. “Sorry, I guess…”

Marinette stared back. “Okay?” she whispered. Maybe it wasn’t going to be a free day after all.

Just as she was about to ask for his name, her stomach growled like an angry Godzilla.

He chuckled.

“You wanna grab a bite? I know a place.“

“Sure. What’s your name?“

“Jianyu.“

“Marinette.“

He opened the door to a little sandwich restaurant and walked in, but let it swing shut behind him in Marinette’s face. Rude. Once they were seated and Marinette was starting to get a little annoyed at him–it was like he didn’t even notice her–he decided it was time to order.

Jianyu snapped at one of the waitresses to get her attention and whistled to get her to come over. She walked over with a pained expression on her face, then plastered on a smile.

“How may I help you today?“

“I’ll have pork dumplings and a Pepsi, the lady’ll have the chicken salad.“

“Actually, I was going to get–“ Marinette started.

“Sorry, sweetheart.“ he said, shoving the waitress away and turning back to her. “But why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself while she’s gone?“

I know that when I’m crowned princess, I’ll kick your scrawny ass, she thought. But she didn’t say that–in fact, she didn’t say anything, just got up from her chair and knocked Jianyu’s water glass down his front.

She swept out of the store before she could hear his cursing.

Yeah, that date was over.

And–being Marinette–as soon as she stormed out of the restaurant, she slammed into a cute girl with her wavy black hair in a ponytail, wearing leggings and a red hoodie.

“Oh, no, are you alright?“ she gasped, checking Marinette over for injuries.

“I’m fine.“ Marinette grumbled. She wasn’t in the mood to meet anyone else she bumped into, not if they were going to be like him.

“You don’t sound fine. I’m Chuntao.“

“Oh–um, I’m Marinette. Little tip, don’t go in there unless you like being catcalled.“

Chuntao frowned. “Hm. I think my brother told me he was going there for lunch–I wouldn’t put it past him to do that.“ She walked in and came out a second later, dragging Jianyu out by the ear.

“What do you have to say for yourself?“

“Marinette!“ he shouted. “I didn’t do anything! Back me up!“

“You called me ‘sweetheart’.“

“Mom’s gonna kick your ass,“ Chuntao growled, letting go of Jianyu’s ear. He scampered away, and she turned back to Marinette, rubbing her temples.

“I’m so sorry for him, but you seem like a really cool person. Can I get your number?“

“Y-yeah, totally!“ Marinette swapped phones with Chuntao, slightly dazed. She handed her phone back and waved.

“Thanks, Marinette! Text me later!“ She yelled, jogging away.

“See you…”

“So, who was that?“ Alya asked, appearing at her shoulder.

“Waugh! Alya! You know…maybe we should sit down first.“

-🌸-

“So…what if I’m gay?“

Alya and Nino simultaneously choked on their drinks.

Alya dabbed at her face with a napkin. “Marinette, darling, may I know the circumstances that have led you to entertain this line of inquiry? Because what the fuck?”

“Tell me all about her.” Nino said, resting his chin in his hands.

“Well, she saved me from a really sucky dude,“

“Hm. So she’s already a nice person.“ Alya remarked.

“And she’s super pretty,“

“So are you, honestly. But that’s off-topic.“

“And I haven’t had a real crush on a boy, like, ever,“

“And you went out with Kagami a few months ago, too. That settles it, Marinette! You are most definitely likely probably gay!“ Nino announced, raising his virgin Piña Colada in a toast.

Alya clinked her Shirley Temple against Marinette’s glass. “So, Marinette, it’s your free day. Only 48 hours until the coronation. How are you feeling?”

“Honestly, I d–“

“Hands in the air!“ an amplified voice screamed. “You’re under arrest!“

Tags: @professionalfangirl1738 @kuroko26 @k-poplunardreams @smolplantmum @heaven428 @briareris @dnsakina @purplesundaze @bloodydragon000 @mimika-28 @strawberrycheesecakebar @k-laconia-bug1@kristycocopop @abrx2002 @wannajointhecrabcult @mochegato @lozzybowe @ozwaltwashere @flufflepuffle296 @fandom-trapped-03 @nanakeid @hetalia-lover-is-here @futursworld @pale-lady-dreamer @susiej1118 @lostinthewrongfandom @fantasyfandommaiden @aestheticnpoetic @feliciakainzofspades @schrodingers25 @echpr

#ml salt #ml salt fic #marinette dupain cheng #marinette deserves better #alya sugar #nino sugar #lila salt #lila bashing #ish #adrien salt #adrien bashing #again ish #marinette the princess of china #chuntao song #miraculous salt #miraculous ladybug #class salt #the kwamis just kinda dont exist in this chapter #~gone~

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kpopmalereader · 3 years

Text

prepare ; won kunhang

• summary: you and hendery take your first vacation together, a trip to meet your family and visit your hometown • pairing: won kunhang x male!reader • word count: 2117 • to do

You walk into your apartment, expecting to be greeted by your golden retriever of a boyfriend. Seeing the kitchen and living room unoccupied would make you think he left already, but his shoes strewn across the entranceway and the covers you folded this morning spread over Hendery’s spot on the couch makes you believe he’s still here.

You venture further into the apartment, hearing a groan come from your room. You stop for a second before hearing mumbling and another cry. The second is louder than the first, and you start to grow worried.

“Okay, okay, okay.”

You hear him repeat the word more times than you can count and slowly open the door. He’s standing in front of the full-body mirror in button-up shirt and slacks. You watch as he straightens his back and smiles. It’s a much smaller smile than you usually would see from him, and it does nothing to help your understanding of the situation. “Hello, it is very nice to meet you. I’ve heard,” He stops and shakes his head. “It is- It’s very nice- It is-”

He groans again and ruffles his hair. He leans down and fixes what he just messed up, straightening his shirt.

You step into the room softly. You don’t want to disturb what he’s doing but also want to make sure it isn’t undue stress doing him in.“Whatcha doin’?”

He sighs and turns, shoulders slumping. He seems almost sad, and you walk forward, picking his chin up. “I’m trying to practice for when I meet your parents,” He mumbles. “We leave today, and I don’t want to get there and say something that makes them think negatively of me.”

You turn him around and stand behind him, pointing at his face in the mirror. “That is Won Kunhang. He is one of the best people I have ever met. I am very in love with him. I have told my parents and my entire family as much.”

“I want to make a good impression.” He states, criticizing himself in the mirror.

“You will.” You ruffle his hair, giving it it’s natural fall instead of the gelled-back style he had it in. “By being yourself. You can wear this shirt because you look good in it, but why don’t we untuck it, and you can stop worrying about using the exact right words when meeting my parents.”

He turns and leans against the mirror. His eyes are downcast, and your heart aches for him. He whispers when he speaks. “I want them to like me.”

“Love,” You sigh and wrap your arms around him. “They will because you are the sweetest, funniest, and most caring person I know. No one can resist loving you, Hendery. I couldn’t.”

He reaches up and picks at his bottom lip. You take his hand and hold it against your chest. The concerned expression doesn’t wipe from his face, and you hold his cheeks.

“Hello, it is very nice to meet you. I’ve heard great things about you, and I’m glad you invited me.” You smile at him and nod your head. “That’s all you have to say.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“It’s what I did when I met your parents,” You kiss his nose lightly. “If you want, you can even add a few things about me that you like. Say they raised me well.”

“If I wasn’t your boyfriend- if I was your sister’s boyfriend or your cousin’s... Would you like me?”

You wrap your arms around his neck. “If you weren’t my boyfriend and someone else in my family got to you first, I would be devastated I couldn’t date you.”

He looks down at you. “But would you like me?”

“Yes! Yes, I would like you. And I would be willing to bet my parents would have looked at me and said they wanted me to find someone like you.”

“Really?” His voice is small and hopeful, and you nod your head, trying to convey everything to him.

“Really. I promise. My parents will love you. My cousins will love you. My aunt will say she wishes everyone in our family could find someone like you. My nieces and nephews and little cousins will love to play with you and want to spend the whole trip with you. Now, put this shirt back in your suitcase so we can go.”

Hendery rubs his hands together. He breathes in and out deeply, preparing himself to knock on the door. You hold his hand lightly, swinging them slowly. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

He smiles, and his face falls again. He scrunches his face and smiles again, making small changes to his facial expression. He rolls his shoulders and squeezes your hand. He nods.

You bump your shoulder into his and reach over, knocking on your parent’s front door. It takes a second for your mom to get to the door, but when she does, Hendery’s grip on your hand grows even tighter. You smile at your mom, and she envelopes you in a hug. She pulls back and holds your face. “It’s been too long!”

She lets you go and turns to Hendery. “Hello!”

“Hel-” He’s cut off as your mom wraps him in a hug, patting him on the back. “Oh.”

“Come in, come in! Find a seat.”

You smile at him and pull him inside. He follows right behind you, bumping into your back when you stop sooner than he expected. You smile, introducing him into countless family and family-friends and people you’re not sure are related to but have come to every event since you were born. Hendery sits next to you as you eat, asking hushed questions about people he’s met.

You hook your foot around his ankle and smile at him. “Not so bad, huh?”

“Get their honest opinions of me when I’m not around.” He mutters before stuffing his face with your mom’s home-cooking.

Music plays throughout your house, bouncing off the walls and entering through crevices and cracks in the building. Hendery wakes up in your childhood room alone. He sits up and sees the door cracked. He can hear your voice singing and laughing along with the song. He walks through the house quietly, not wanting to disturb the normality. He rounds on the kitchen, seeing you, your mom, and a young child dancing around the kitchen with wooden spatulas in hand.

You turn around as you dance, spotting Hendery standing a few feet away. You point to him and call him in, throwing your arms in the air. “Join us.”

“I like the view.”

You shake your head and dance over to him. You stick the spoon in front of his mouth, smiling wide. You stop singing, looking at him with hopeful eyes.

He sighs and grabs the spoon. You giggle at continue to dance along, singing the song as loud as you can without it being categorized as yelling. He starts singing along quietly, swaying back and forth with the music. Your mom looks over and smiles, picking up the young family member. They dance together, and she not-so-subtly hip-bumps you closer to Hendery. You grab his hand and start dancing with him, forcing him to loosen up. He watches you for a while before really joining in, hopping and moving with you.

Your laughs ring through the kitchen and up the stairs. You pull him closer and kiss his cheek. “Still nervous?”

You walk hand-in-hand with Hendery. You seem calm. Content. He’s enthralled with your face, your smile, how the feeling of belonging flows from you without stop. You point at a storefront not far in front of you, waiting for him to look up. He pulls himself from watching your face and looks over.

“That is a restaurant. It’s only been there for about a year. Before it was a restaurant, which no one really likes, by the way, it was an antique store. And it was run by this man, he was great, he was one of the nicest people ever, but he retired a few years back and closed it down. He searched for someone to take it over, but he didn’t have any kids, and no one around here knew how to run a business.” You shake your head. “He and his wife moved a little while after the shop turned into a restaurant.”

You smile softly. “My mom worked next door, it used to be a little boutique, and sometimes her shifts would last longer than school, so I would come here instead of going home. Sometimes I would sit behind the counter next to the piles of hangers, but I would visit Mr. Claude some days. He would show me around the different finds, telling me that there was always something great about everything.”

Hendery watches you as you look at the not great restaurant. The wind blows your hair to the side, and your eyes sparkle. “He would point to an old, stained china set that nobody would buy and tell me all about how if someone could clean it up, they would see that it was an amazing set that was passed down from generations, but something happened where it was accidentally given away, and the original owner’s great-great-great-great granddaughter had spent her entire young adult life looking for it but could never find it.”

“Or! I would beg my mom to buy this ancient stuffed bear, but she thought its eyes were creepy, so she never got it for me. He would keep it by the register and tell me that I should look for someone I thought was worthy enough to have it. And an older woman walked in one day, and I told Mr. Claude she seemed nice enough to take care of him. And, by some miracle for my 7-year-old self, she got some stuff and walked up to the register and started talking about how the bear looked exactly like one she had when she was a kid and how she would love to buy it, but she only brought enough money for the other things. I just lit up and looked at Mr. Claude like it was the best thing ever, and he told her if she could promise to take the best care of it, he would give it to her for a discount. I was amazed. I didn’t stop talking about it for weeks.”

Hendery smiles along with your story, your excitement at remembering your story exuding off of you. It makes him excited, and he never wants you to stop talking.

You point at a big, white marble building up the street. “That is the library. It is the oldest building in town, even the Court House is younger, and I spent most of my high-school years there.”

You gesture across the street. “The building there is the old school-house. There’s a park behind that everyone chips in to fix up and replace every few years for the new kids in town. The school-house is mostly used as a museum now, but sometimes Town Meetings are held inside. I don’t know why we have Town Meetings.”

He watches you, not worrying about running into the street-lights, too focused on listening to your recounts of stories. You continue to speak. You tell stories he can’t wholly follow sometimes, not knowing most of the people you refer to or the place names. He watches your hands fly up when you repeat something exasperating someone once said about your small town and giggle to yourself as you remember old inside jokes he doesn’t want to ruin with asking questions about it. After a few stories, you realize you’ve been talking for a while and look a bit flustered, ears turning red.

“Sorry, I know you’re probably not that interested.”

“No. No. Tell me everything,” He nods and holds your hands tighter. “I don’t want to miss any details.”

You sigh happily, bumping your shoulder into him. “When I lived here, I didn’t like it much, but after I moved, I realized I really did. Everybody knows everybody, and it’s nice being able to walk everywhere. I don’t know…”

Hendery kisses your temple. “It’s sweet. I like seeing how happy it makes you. Maybe we can get a house somewhere like this in the future.”

“Seriously?” You look up at him with a bright smile, eyes shining endlessly.

He laughs and nods his head. “Yeah, of course. We can buy a vacation house and visit on breaks. We’ll get to know everyone, and you’ll get new small-town stories to share.”

You bite your lip and nod slowly. “I would like that.”

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esmeraldablazingsky · 3 years

Text

I’ve finally hit my limit on the number of bad takes on the Lan parents I can see before I have to lay out all the reasons I disagree, so hello, I’m Blazie, and in this essay I will justify my visceral dislike of the assumption that Qingheng-jun married/imprisoned/had sex with Lan-furen against her will.

Warning for mentions of rape (in context of Interpretations I Really Hate) and a very, VERY long post below the cut.

Before I start going off about the finer points of all this, I want to make sure people are on the same page regarding what we actually know about what went down with Qingheng-jun and Lan-furen. What I say is based off the EXR translation of MDZS, for the sake of clarity, and although I don’t think the exact wording should be too important, feel free to let me know if you think I’ve missed an important bit of nuance or something (the whole story is in Chapter 64.)

The story we get is told by Lan Xichen, and it goes like this: a young Qingheng-jun falls in love at first sight with Lan-furen, who doesn’t return his feelings, and at some point kills one of Qingheng-jun’s teachers over unspecified “grievances.” Although he’s understandably very upset over the murder, Qingheng-jun sneaks Lan-furen back to Cloud Recesses and officially marries her in order to announce to his clan that anyone who wants to hurt her has to go through him.

After that, he locks Lan-furen in one house and himself in another as a form of repentance. Wei Wuxian speculates that this was because “he could neither forgive the one who killed his teacher nor watch the death of the woman who he loved. He could only marry her to protect her life and force himself not to see her.”

A central detail of this story that I think people don’t give the import it deserves is that aside from marrying and protecting her, Qingheng-jun’s other option was to let Lan-furen be executed by his clan. His purpose in marrying her wasn’t just for kicks/out of a possessive sort of love, it was so she wouldn’t straight up die. How she felt about this arrangement isn’t stated, but I’ll get into that in a bit. In addition to that, Qingheng-jun and Lan-furen live separately, which was apparently purposeful on Qingheng-jun’s part, and runs counter to the interpretation that he intended to take sexual advantage of Lan-furen.

Though there aren’t many concrete details in Lan Xichen’s retelling, he does specifically inform Wei Wuxian that his mother never complained about remaining in her house. What exactly this signifies is unclear— whether she was simply putting on a brave face for her sons, or whether she was in fact at all content with the situation— but it at the very least serves to further muddy the waters on how she and Qingheng-jun felt about all this.

Beyond what Lan Xichen and Wei Wuxian are saying out loud, there’s also quite a bit of subtext in this scene, especially in light of later events and revelations, like Lan Xichen’s confession for Lan Wangji at Guanyin Temple.

So what is Lan Xichen trying to convey with all this? There’s a lot of memes about this scene, most of which err too far on the side of Himbo Airhead Lan Xichen for my liking, but one that I do find amusing emphasizes how Lan Xichen draws parallels between Wangxian and the story of his parents (Lan Xichen: [flute solo] please use your one brain cell to connect the dots.) If Wei Wuxian hadn’t completely lost his memory of Lan Wangji defending him against his own clan elders, one would assume that Lan Xichen’s story would have had a much better chance of hitting home.

In hindsight and side by side, the parallels are much clearer— Qingheng-jun, “ignoring the objections from his clan… told everyone in the clan that she would be his wife for the rest of his life, that whoever wanted to harm her would have to pass through him first.” Similarly, according to Lan Xichen in Chapter 99, “for [Wei Wuxian,] not only did WangJi talk back to him, he even met with his sword the cultivators from the GusuLan Sect. He heavily injured all thirty-three of the seniors we asked to come.”

In that context, it makes a lot less sense to interpret Qingheng-jun as an aggressor towards Lan-furen, as in Lan Wangji’s case, the narrative clearly establishes that his actions are to secure Wei Wuxian’s safety. The action of Taking Someone Back To Cloud Recesses is— okay, actually, it’s a little more nuanced than I took into account when I started writing that sentence, so let me go a little deeper into Lan Wangji’s actions and how they relate to his father’s, story-wise.

My intent is not to dive into the terrifying underworld of novel-versus-drama discourse, but simply put, Novel!Lan Wangji as he is written isn’t exactly the poster child for clear consent. (I’m going to entirely leave off the extra chapters for the sake of everyone’s sanity, so I’m just talking about the main body of the novel here.)

He means well, and I’m sure we can agree that he does actually love and want the best for Wei Wuxian, but his lack of communication on this point means that he accidentally gives Wei Wuxian the impression that he wants to imprison and/or punish him in Cloud Recesses at least twice off the top of my head (pre-timeskip, as we know, and post-timeskip immediately after Dafan Mountain when he actually drags Wei Wuxian back to his room.)

That all likely has something to do with MXTX’s narrative kinks and regular kinks and all that, and can absolutely be taken with many grains of salt. However, these events establish how easy it is to misinterpret the action of Taking Someone Back To Gusu as an attempt to imprison rather than protect them (much to Lan Wangji’s chagrin.)

Failing to communicate his purpose to Wei Wuxian doesn’t mean that Lan Wangji actually had any intent of hurting or caging him— that was just a misinterpretation on Wei Wuxian’s part, and we, as the audience, find that out in due time— but as written in the novel, it can be really uncomfortable to read. Because of that, many people choose to accept CQL canon regarding Lan Wangji’s more possessive actions or mix characterization from different adaptations, which, to be clear, I completely understand and respect.

However, Qingheng-jun doesn’t get the benefit of the doubt as often, which I frankly find baffling, because nowhere in the text does it state that Lan-furen objected to being taken back to Cloud Recesses, while even Wei Wuxian clearly objected the first few times. In fact, while we’re on this note, I’ll take it a step farther— I find it baffling that people seem to default to an unsympathetic view of Qingheng-jun, because nowhere in the text does it state that he overruled Lan-furen’s wishes in any way. The text doesn’t clarify a lot of things, actually, and that is part of the point.

The narrators of MDZS are, in many situations, highly unreliable. This is, presumably, very purposeful! MDZS can easily be read as a sharp criticism of reputation and mass judgment and the concept of condemning people without knowing their motives! And I don’t want to sound mean, but guys… did any of us learn anything from that? Here, I’m going to put it in meme format for a second to convey what I mean.

MDZS: It’s easy to condemn someone as a villain if you don’t know their story or the reasons behind their actions

MDZS: Anyway, here’s a character whose story and reasons behind his actions you know nothing about

Some Parts Of This Fandom: Ah, a villain

Memes aside, here’s what I want to point out. It’s entirely possible to assume Qingheng-jun was a bad person who disregarded a woman’s wishes in marrying and confining her when all you have is Lan Xichen’s (actually very neutral, thank you Lan Xichen for being an eminently reasonable and concerned-with-evidence character) account of what happened. It would also be at least that easy to assume Wei Wuxian was just an evil necromancer if he hadn’t un-died and brought his own story to light, or even to believe that Lan Wangji had somehow tamed Wei Wuxian into submission and being a respectable cultivator if you were an average citizen of Fantasy Ancient China with nothing but rumors to operate on.

The thing about Qingheng-jun and Lan-furen’s story, then, is that there is nobody left alive who knows the full tale. Nobody knows what they thought about anything, really. Nobody even knows why Lan-furen killed Qingheng-jun’s teacher. Wei Wuxian asks why, and Lan Xichen can’t tell him, but I think the best answer would be something along the lines of I don’t know, Wei Wuxian, why did you kill people? Your guess on the motivations of your own thinly disguised narrative parallel are as good as anyone’s.

So, while it’s not technically impossible to assign darker motives to Qingheng-jun, the cautionary tale of MDZS seems to warn against that exact assumption.

I’ve refrained from getting too salty on a personal level thus far, but now that I’ve said a lot of the more logical and story-based points of my argument, I will say that at least some of my annoyance with the interpretation of Qingheng-jun as a possessive rapist and Lan-furen as his victim stems from the fact that I just think it’s straight up boring. Where’s the nuance? Aren’t you tired of reducing these characters to the flattest possible versions of themselves? Don’t you just want to add a little flavor?

In a slightly more serious phrasing of that criticism, I find that making Lan-furen a helpless prisoner strips her of whatever agency she might otherwise have. To be fair, she’s more or less a non-character in keeping with the general state of the MDZS universe, but making her a damsel in distress only consigns her more deeply to hapless, milquetoast innocence.

It’s perfectly valid to enjoy ladies who have done nothing wrong, ever, in their lives, but like… Qin Su is right there, if that’s your ball game. There’s also really no need to make Qingheng-jun someone who doesn’t respect women. Isn’t Jin Guangshan enough for at least one universe?

Anyway, ultimately, you do you. I don’t like arguing on the internet, and will just ignore things I don’t agree with (or write an 1800 word vaguepost) like a mature human being. I’m just saying, if it’s a cut and dry tale of imprisonment and assault you’re looking for… you probably don’t want to turn to a woman who committed a murder and a man who loved her enough to forfeit everything to keep her safe.

#mdzs #qingheng jun #madam lan #lan wangji #wei wuxian #(in a narrative parallels context)#blazie .txt #anyway without further ado here is my.... essay?#rape mention

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