week four | endgame

[marriagebroker]

After one last night at the estate, everyone is set to big farewell on Sunday morning or afternoon or evening, however long they want to linger until they say their goodbyes.

There will be transportation to send them out of the estate and back to wherever they came from! They will leave just the way they arrived, of course. Taken all the way back home to their respective worlds.

But before that! Everyone is given one smartphone which they will be told can communicate with everyone else, including Wei Wuxian. If they want to call or text or whatever they want. There's already a group chat set up where Wei Wuxian has posted:

Safe travels, friends!

And Wei Wuxian will also share that they are able to travel to each other's worlds. They just need to return to the estate and from the estate, they can leave back to someone else's world. The estate will function as a "hub" of sorts for these travels.

So, farewell, friends! Here's to your perfect match!

Boom Boom Room | Talking Heads | Honeymoon Suite
Love Meme | tl;cr Meme

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[poans]

[On a summer morning, he meets her for a second time by the wisteria. Beautiful and free . . . Yingying.

Kneeling beside her, he doffs his coat and lays it over her shoulders before reaching out to gently dust off a lock of hair and tuck it behind an ear. There's so much to see, to have the whole image of her seared into his retina, but his gaze lingers on her eyes, his expression one of quietly unfettered joy.]

No . . . but now your feet can take you anywhere you wish. And I shall be there.

[embellwish]

[ Before, it had felt nice to be touched and touch others — but now? The weight of his coat around her shoulders, the gentle brush of his hand in her hair... it all feels that much more tender, that much more real. It's like the first time all over again. ]

Yi Sang...

[ She calls his name quietly, reaching up to tug his coat more securely around her, comforted not only by the warmth, but by the lingering scent, too. She... needed this, needed him at her side, as she came into this world anew, feeling and sensing things she hasn't in a century.

When she turns to meet his eyes, her brows knit upon seeing that unmistakable joy there — and can't help her own tearing up. It's just — overwhelming. The burst of emotion in her chest, and finally feeling the touch of another person again. With a bit of a laugh, giving a valiant effort not to cry: ]

You swear to the moon and stars, right?

[ That he'll be there, just like this. ]

[poans]

[Yi Sang cups her face, recalling her fear of abandonment behind playful remarks and gestures. He remembers the sounds of a crack and broken laughter, and the damning silence on his end. Those are sounds that can't be undone, forever leaving a mark.

His eyes trace the violet stains on her face before flitting back up to hers, glistening with unshed tears. This time, the laughter is one of joy. Hers are the marks of a survivor, who continues to struggle for more. Still, he neither remains quiet nor turns away.]

To the moon and stars . . . and your mothers, who wished above all for your happiness.

[For he is hers—a sentiment he delivers by leaning in and pressing his lips to hers for a slow, lingering kiss now that they've reclaimed their time.]

[embellwish]

[ It's such a fitting time for him to be the one to lean in and kiss her first, the press of his lips slow and gentle. She meets him with just as much softness, letting the kiss linger for as long as they'll both allow — much longer than any other kiss they've shared. She'll always remember this moment, sweet and ideal as it is. Like a page from a fairy tale. With the weight of her cheek resting fully in his grasp, she reaches out to place her hands delicately on either side of his neck, cradling him like something fragile.

And when their first kiss finally breaks, she wastes no time kissing him again, and again, slow, deliberate passes of her lips against his. There's a slight smile, that comes with the onslaught of affection, but so too do a few tears run, against her wishes. He's right... her moms were always wishing for her to feel this happy.

Unbidden, she keeps leaning forward towards him, looking to harmlessly topple him over into the soft grass below, uncaring if he isn't expecting such clinginess from her. She deserves to be a little clingy, right? And he deserves to be showered with affection, perhaps to the point of being overwhelmed, considering the dearth of it he's been shown. He's getting too romantic, too good with his words; she needs to step her game up and make him feel just as much unrestrained love as she does. And right now... all she wants to feel is him solid against her, warm, and real, and always there. ]

Then, I'll stay at your side forever. [ which she whispers just for him, close enough that their breaths are still mingling. ] With you, their wish is granted, after all.

[ There's still a tear or two welling up, but she says this with all the sincerity she can muster, drawing her thumbs against the line of his with impossible fondness. How could anyone handle someone so precious so irresponsibly? She'll spend every moment they have together ensuring that one day, he'll forget what neglect or doubt ever felt like. She seals her lips against his in another drawn out, slow kiss, wanting to let the meaning of those words sink in to his very flesh. ]

[poans]

[A muffled "ah" escapes him as he hits the grass, taken aback by the inoffensive fall. Nevertheless, he finds himself more lost in the searing onslaught of her kisses, concentrating on meeting them halfway as opposed to the ground beneath him. When they at last part for her to whisper those words reminiscent of the sunlight filtering in through an open window, her eyes burn their mark onto his retina before she claims his mouth again.

Ah, he thinks, if this is how it feels to be free, he must have flown then. The wings hadn't been imagined.

Smiling smally into the next kiss so as not to disrupt it overmuch, he loops an arm around her side to rest a hand on her back, embracing her as promised. Once they part, his other hand brushes aside a curtain of her hair to peer into her face. He cups her cheek and runs his thumb over the tear track staining it.

Though sweet, the air is impossibly refreshing. His voice is breathy, nigh reverent from the sheer wealth of fondness that wells in his heart.]

This is . . . truly ideal.