#before anyone asks nothing particularly huge happened i'm just done

[ihamtmus]

this fandom should be studied because the levels of brainwashing and hypocrisy are something else

[femonologue]

Many years ago, I was wandering around downtown Ottawa with my best friend. We ran into a friend of his who offered us some hash (it sucked), then said there was a really good house party nearby if we wanted to go. We were like, yeah, sure. So that's how we ended up at some completely fucking random person's house.

I look around to ask if my friend knows anyone here and he's simply gone, as is his friend. And this isn't some red solo cup hangout; this is a party. There's people counting out pills on the kitchen counter. I am clearly neither as cool nor as drug-savvy as the kitchen people, so I back away and instead wander aimlessly into the living room, which seems to give off more of a chill vibe.

A bunch of people are seated in a circle on the floor. One of them is fiddling with a big wad of newspaper or something. A really cute grunge girl with piercings and tattoos scoots aside to make room for me, so I sit down.

"What's that," I ask her, gesturing at the newspaper wad.

She gets a really big smile on her face. You know the smile. It's the I'm About To Watch This Innocent Soul Get High As Fuck smile. "You've never smoked a tulip?"

"What's a tulip?" I ask.

"It's like if a joint was also a bong," she replies. "You gotta try it."

"Alright," I reply, a little uncertainly. This will not be my first encounter with weed. I am more comfortable with the janky newspaper bong than I am with whatever the fuck is going on in the kitchen. Besides, this girl is really cute and I would like to have a friend here now that my existing friend has turned into vapor or been transported to the Upside-Down or whatever the hell happened to him.

I watch as one person holds the newspaper joint-bong upright and holds a lighter over the top while another gets beneath it, tilting their head back to take a puff. Apparently smoking this Cheech & Chong monstrosity is a two-person job.

"Oh," I say, looking at the fist-sized knob at the top of the wonky newspaper joint. "Yeah, it does kinda look like a tulip." Grunge girl smiles at me.

I watch as the tulip is passed around the circle, along with the lighter, and hits are cooperatively taken. It reaches grunge girl, who takes a huge puff and holds it for an extended moment before exhaling an impressive blast of smoke. She smiles expectantly and holds the tulip up for me, preparing to spark the gigantic meteor of dank that makes up its tip. By this point I have completely forgotten about my missing friend. I only care about making a good impression on grunge girl. I tilt my head back and hit the tulip like a smokestack.

It is the following morning. I am sleeping between a couch and a wall. I'm not positive that this is the same house I was just in. My memories are gone. Someone is yelling at me: "dude! Dude! Wake up, dude!"

I sit up. My mouth tastes like cigarettes. I do not smoke cigarettes. "Wha," I ask the yelling man, who I am quite confident I have never met before in my life.

"We're going on a quest," he tells me, gravely. "You have to come with us."

I look around. Neither my friend nor his friend are anywhere in sight. I also do not see grunge girl anywhere. I shrug helplessly. "Okay."

We embark from this house. I learn that the destination of this quest is Tim Horton's. This is a relief to me, as coffee and a donut sounds really fucking good right now. Somehow, the route to Tim Horton's takes us past the Governor-General's residence, which everyone else in the group loudly heckles on the way past. I do not know what the Governor-General has done to raise their ire, nor do I particularly care. I trudge along with my hands in my pockets, pleased to note that I still have my wallet, phone, and keys. I fervently wish that I could remember anything about last night. Maybe I talked to grunge girl. Maybe she's why my mouth tastes like cigarettes. The tulip tasted nothing like cigarettes.

I am asked about my politics. I voice my frustrations with corporate corruption, the pay-to-win electoral system, the lack of transparency and accountability. This is met with great approval. The guy who was yelling at me claps me on the back. I get the impression that we became friends last night. I don't recognize his face. I do not know his name and he definitely does not know mine. I behave as though we're friends anyway. We are comrades on a quest.

By the time we make it to Tim Hortons, the gaggle of stoners I'm walking with have all run out of energy and/or attention span. People order snacks and break away in pairs or solo, to call for rides or plan the day's events or just vegetate and wait for the drugs to leave their systems. I look around and find that my nameless friend has also gone to the Upside-Down. As I wash the cigarette taste out of my mouth with coffee, I unsuccessfully try to remember whether I saw grunge girl smoking tobacco at any point. I remember nothing. That tulip was so fucking powerful that it instantly sent me a whole day forward in time.

Alone in the city, I try to call my best friend and get no answer. I walk to the nearest bus stop, catch a bus most of the way home, and call up my parents to ask for a ride back. They ask where my friend is. I tell them that I have no idea; we went to a house party and I don't remember anything else.

When they pick me up from the bus station, they ask me some very safe, nonspecific questions, and seem to relax when I describe what little I can remember. It isn't until years later that I realize they were probably terrified I'd gotten rufied or something, and were so relieved to learn otherwise that they didn't even bother chiding me for smoking myself unconscious in an effort to impress a strange woman. In any case, they were probably happy to find out that I did, in fact, like girls; I suspect they had been privately wondering whether I was gay.

After getting home, I finally manage to get my best friend to answer his phone. I discover that he tried the kitchen pills, spent most of the night crossing the entire city on foot, and crashed at his cousin's house. He sounds like shit. I tell him that he should have tried the tulip, instead. He fervently agrees with me.

I never see grunge girl again.

That's okay, though. She got to see a clueless stranger get fucked the entire way up on some ungodly strain of giga-weed, and I got smiled at by a cute girl, and then I got to go on a quest. Wherever grunge girl is, I hope she's happy. I hope she's smoking the fattest fucking blunt and smiling as some kid passes out behind a couch.

[starwarsmum]

Day 3 of @maribat-calendar-events Maribat BioFamily September: Home Visit

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58664089

Marinette took a deep breath as she stood on the doorstep of the biggest manor she had ever seen. Oh sure, the Agreste Mansion was big, but it wasn't to the scale of Wayne Manor. And, apparently, it was owned by a psychopath, so…

Before she could second guess it for another moment, she braced herself and rapped on the door. She could hear nothing through the door, but it opened a few seconds later to an older gentleman, wearing a suit and white gloves. He smiled down at her before motioning for her to enter.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Marinette. I am Alfred Pennyworth, the Waynes’ butler,” the man said in a polished tone. He took her luggage from her hands, closing the door behind her and walking into a large atrium. She stared around it as she walked through it to a set of ornate stairs. From there, he led her down a hallway to a room of her own.

“Wow, this is beautiful,” she said excitedly, gazing around at the four poster bed, the ensuite she could see the door to, the huge wardrobe. But the thing that drew her attention most was a large desk that housed a beautiful sewing machine and dozens of threads and different equipment. “Who does this all belong to?”

“Master Bruce asked for it to be set up for you, Miss Marinette,” Alfred replied, chuckling when she whipped back around to stare at him, wide-eyed. “It is my understanding that you are a designer? I hope this is adequate for your purposes, I do not sew myself, but I believe this is enough thread for anyone who does it as a hobby?”

“Oh, well, I mean, I have a few commissions to do, but I was just going to message the clients that I'd do them when I got home. But with this…” she touched a dressmaker's dummy, which stood next to an equally impressive tailor’s dummy. “Is there a fabric store I can go to?”

They chatted for a few minutes about the various fabric stores, before he apologised and said that he needed to get back to his jobs. She decided to set up her things, moving her clothes into the wardrobe and putting the Miracle Box at the back of it. Once that was done, she set her sketchbook up on the desk, open to a fresh page. 

Before she could do any designing, however, a knock sounded on the door and a young man, with black hair and blue eyes opened the door tentatively. She smiled at him hesitantly, standing slowly. His face reminded her of the one she saw in the mirror, but slightly wrong.

“Marinette, right? Hey, I'm Tim Drake. You probably heard, but I'm your older brother,” he said, seeming a little stiff. He was trying to smile at her, but it felt like the smiles she always gave after particularly harrowing Akumas. “I know this is weird. I didn't even know I had a sister, it was a bit of a shock. Did your adoptive parents ever tell you about your birth parents?”

“No, they didn't have much information on them,” Marinette admitted, moving to the bed and patting the bedspread. Tim moved over to sit with her, letting her take hold of one of his hands. “My mother met- well, she called her Janet, only the once. She never met your- our dad, and they said they didn't want to have any contact after the adoption.”

“I didn't even know mom was pregnant,” Tim whispered, staring at the wall opposite them instead of looking at her. “I can't believe they hid it from me, or that they gave you away at all. I know they struggled with money, it was a huge problem that they never admitted to. But they practically sold you, and I never even knew you existed.”

“Monsieur Dra- Tim,” she corrected, making him smile in spite of his melancholy. “You are, what, twenty? You would have been four when I was born, and if your parents never told you what was happening, you couldn't have found out about me. And when you found out about me, you offered to have me stay with your family.”

“They can be your family too, Marinette. I know you have parents, and it's obvious that the Dupain-Chengs love you, but you're my little sister which means you get to be a part of this family too. Everyone wants to meet you, but I told them it was up to you. So, yeah, if and when you're ready to meet them, they're ready for you.”

“Well, is there anyone home, other than Alfred, that I can meet?” Marinette asked eagerly, wanting to get to know Tim now that she was here. Nodding, he stood up, letting go of her hand in the process. She followed him out of the room, closing the door tight shut behind her.

_ _ _

By the time Marinette had met with most of Tim's family, it was well into the afternoon. At around four o'clock, she excused herself from the manic energy of the sitting room to get some fresh air. She made a beeline for the front door, her only thought of getting out for a few minutes. When she opened the door, however, there stood a boy with black hair, darker skin and striking green eyes about to enter.

“Uh, um, hi,” she squeaked, transfixed by his stare. His eyes were narrowed thoughtfully, head slightly tilted as he took in her features. She could feel a blush flooding her face, and she forced her breathing to level out. “I- I'm Marinette, Tim's sister. How do you do?”

“Tt, obviously that is who you are,” he said, an eyebrow raising and she flushed harder. “You seem much more…easily flustered than I would have assumed. I was under the impression that you were one of the few people who were not akumatised by the villain, Hawkmoth. Is that not the case?”

“Oh, ha, no, that is the case,” Marinette squeaked, trying unsuccessfully to tear her eyes from his. “But, um, you see, he akumatised people who had negative emotions, not people who got flustered by cute boys- I mean not people who were just nervous.”

The boy stared for a few moments more before stepping into the manor and shutting the door behind him. “My name is Damian Wayne. I take it by your opening the door that you were intending to go on a walk around the grounds. If it is acceptable to you, I usually take my dog, Titus, for a walk around the grounds at this time and would like to accompany you. Perhaps we can get to know each other a little better?”

Marinette nodded dumbly, her eyes following him as he nodded and strode quickly away, presumably to fetch his dog.

_ _ _

Tim checked the time on his watch, for perhaps the dozenth time in the past ten minutes. It had been nearly an hour since Marinette had said she needed to clear her mind, and she had yet to reappear. He was trying to be understanding of the fact that she must be overwhelmed by nearly everyone in the family being excited to meet her, but an hour?

“Timmy, she's probably fine. Maybe she got distracted in the gardens, it wouldn't be the first time,” Dick said soothingly. Tim merely huffed and glanced at his watch again. Suddenly, steps approached the sitting room, alongside muffled voices. “See? I bet she got lost and Alfred had to get her back.”

When the door opened, however, Marinette was chatting with Damian, who held it open for her. Tim's eyes narrowed - Damian had been expressing an admiration for Ladybug's skills, but the Waynes weren't supposed to know about Marinette's secret identity. He didn't think Damian would have blown their cover, but he also wasn't sure why else he would be entertaining Marinette.

“Dami! You met Marinette too, isn't she great?” Dick sounded like the thought of Damian getting to know Marinette wasn't the stuff of nightmares, but Tim held his tongue. His suspicions only grew when the demon brat gave a terse nod. “It's so great that we all get a new sister, isn't it?”

“Tt, I have no intention of treating Marinette as my sister, Grayson,” Damian said coolly, and Dick visibly deflated. He turned back to Marinette before continuing. “Thank you for walking Titus with me. If you would like to do so again, please let me know and I shall arrange it. And if you still wish to meet Alfred the Cat, he is often in my chambers after dinner.”

He waited for Marinette's response - a very eager nod with a light giggle - and then strode out of the room without so much as a ‘bye’ for anyone else. With no small amount of horror, Tim began to wonder if Damian's interest in Ladybug hadn't been strictly professional.

[irithnova]

Thinking about Mongolia's thoughts about the communist era hmm.

I think that he saw it as like. It needed to happen whether he liked it or not in order to ensure his independence. I don't think he jumps up and down in joy when remembering it but he saw it as a necessity to his survival. It's a pretty complicated subject as there were atrocities such as the purges that took place, a lot of which specifically targeted ethnic minority groups in Mongolia and certain cultural heritages that were trodden on (the use of the Mongolian script, monasteries destroyed) however he's never going to deny that that period is what stopped him from losing independence completely and well. Being in Tibet's position (which is something he's incredibly sore about) even if there are very regrettable things that took place during that period.

I do think Mongolia is quite prideful so he certainly wasn't happy on relying so heavily on Soviet help but I also don't think he's so prideful that he's stupid and turns down much needed help just to be prideful/stubborn. Russia tried to frame their relationship as being sort of like an older brother helping out a younger brother ("akh duu") and Mongolia found this pretty... Patronising/annoying (especially considering the fact that he's older than Russia though not by a huge amount). He can definitely be stubborn but he's also very pragmatic and if he needed to enter into a coercive relationship (politically) with Russia to make sure China didn't swallow him then so be it - he could complain about it later. And even "later" I think his heart is quite hardened to what happened.

Not in the sense that he doesn't care about what happened or regrets nothing but moreso he's like "what's done is done". I've said this before but I don't think he's one to dwell on things that upset him (most of the time), and while this sounds great this isn't always to his benefit and he can end up seeming disingenuous or even callous when asked about things when in reality, it is something that upset/upsets him but he's not one to liberally indulge in his feelings to anyone who asks - especially if it's to do with a complicated situation.

I've read that a lot of older Mongolians are more sympathetic to communism than younger ones and while I don't think Mongolia would brand himself as a #proudcommunist yeah I do think he's somewhat sympathetic-to-communism-leaning (he's boomer-leaning to me) mainly because Mongolia did benefit in some significant ways from that era - literacy rates skyrocketed - in fact Mongolia was the first universally literate country in Asia, child mortality rates decreased greatly, promotion of higher education, better healthcare, a Mongolian was even put into space (I'm not at all trying to detract from the bad that happened or excuse it). I think it also stems from the fact that he's just more... Used to it? Mongolia was the second country in the world to adopt communism and the first in Asia, bypassing capitalism completely and going from a feudal monarchy straight to a communist society. Mongolia only stopped being communist in the 90s.

Again - the era of communism is one that Mongolia has complex feelings about because yes the improvements in the aforementioned sectors were staggering. Whilst the famous Mongolian quote goes "I'd rather suffer under my own rule rather than live happily under someone elses" and yes Mongolia can be a stubborn bastard, he will acknowledge that Soviet aid ensured his independence however coercive his relationship with Russia was at the time and well, I think improved living conditions for their people would make any nation pleased at the very least. However the bad that took place is not something he can ignore so easily at the same time. Which is why I say his feelings about it are so complex.

Side note but I read that Russians who visited Mongolia particularly liked their fur coats and rugs which could be purchased for a cheaper price than at back home and I can only imagine Russia pestering Mongolia for discounts on products (which I think he still does today tbh Mongolian cashmere goes hard). There were actually already Russians living in Mongolia before Soviet intervention however these Russians were descendants of white Russians, colonists from the Tsarist era etc, so there was a level of animosity between "local" Russians already in Mongolia and Soviet specialists being sent to Mongolia during the era of Soviet interventionism. Mongolia personally really did not care about how much either group didn't like each other as long as they weren't shit stirring with the Mongolian population. The Soviet specialists sent to Mongolia were actually interviewed by the KGB on how to behave - they had to be on their best behaviour in Mongolia so as to not ruin the reputation of the Soviets.

This did not matter though because in the 70's to 80's the glaring disparities between the Soviets and local Mongolians became too obvious to ignore. Soviet workers who travelled to Mongolia for work did so so that they could get enough money for cars and apartments back home. Soviet specialists in Mongolia were being paid as much as a deputy government minister back home! There were elite stores in Mongolia that had very high quality produce that only Soviet specialists and family members of Mongolian officials were allowed in - guards were even posted to prevent ordinary Mongolians from entering. So much for that older brother younger brother relationship. Despite Soviet help, as mentioned before Mongolia found it to be patronising, and when Russia would go on a speech about how he helped lift Mongolia from his "backwards and dark" past yes there was a bit of an eyeroll and a hurt ego. Mongolia's tolerance of Russia was seriously waning.

The democratic revolution in the 90's saw Mongolia shed its Russian influence and Mongolians began to be more openly critical of this "older brother younger brother" relationship with Russia - Soviet specialists in Mongolia felt threatened by this and even moved out. Nationalism was on the rise and people were once again singing Genghis Khan's praises. You know that video that got really popular of that Mongolian guy throat singing "Chinggis Khaan Magtaal" on a mountain? That was written in the 90's! I'd say Mongolia was pleased at the very least about this rise in nationalism and an invigorated interest in history and Chinggis Khaan in his people but lets remember this was yet another transition he had to deal with after getting used to communism. Despite a rise in nationalist spirit, there was a lot of unemployment and people turned to bad coping mechanisms during the 90's/early 2000s, I heard that some folks were even afraid of going outside - shops were empty and everything and during this transition period there was something of a shared hope in people yet no one really knew what was to come. Any major transitionary period for a nation is never going to be easy and this was no exception. I think Mongolia was kind of like, trying to bite the bullet and get through with it even if he himself felt uncertain because all you can do really is move forward. I think Russia was er. Unhappy about this but did not outright say it to Mongolia's face... He'd more so "tease" him and tell him his Russian was getting bad for example and if he needed some practice or something (note: Mongolia's Russian was still perfectly fine lol).

He's in a much better state now but there was no denying that the shift from communism after being in it for so long and getting used to a new system after shifting from a feudal monarchy to straight to communism in the first place was hard. When he remembers the communist era its not a distant memory for him - remember, Mongolia was a communist country without ever going through a capitalist period beforehand and this new era isn't even half a century old. He knows that that era was integral to keeping his independence and there were some much needed changes that were taken care of during that time (healthcare, education etc) however he will not forget the regrettable things that took place. This is also why I think Mongolia's relationship with Russia is so complex but I think I'll leave that for another post lol.

[imtryingmybeskar]

Day Five of the Christmas Challenge.

Disclaimer: I don't drive, never have and know precisely nothing about cars.

18+ only, warnings for a brief mention of infertility, swearing and mentions of infidelity, drug addiction and PTSD. Little bit of angst and hurt. Pairing is Francisco "Catfish" Morales x F! Reader. Word count: 2890

Idk what happened here man, there's barely any snow.

First Snow

The urge to cry was almost overwhelming - face hot, throat tight and vision starting to blur as you sat in your useless, dead car at the side of the road. This wasn't the worst thing that had happened today, but it sure was the cherry on top. You pounded the steering wheel with your hand in sheer frustration, adding a spark of pain to the list of woes swirling in your mind. The reception out here was godawful and you desperately hoped that the roadside assistance company would be able to figure out where exactly you were from what you had told them over the phone. A big ask when you weren't even sure where exactly you were. The road you had ground to a halt on wasn't huge, nor was it very busy and you saw very few fellow motorists go by. You envied the ones you did see - imagining they were all going home to warmth and company and family for the Christmas period. Unlike yourself. It really didn't matter what time you got home this evening, there wouldn't be anyone waiting for you...

The self pitying thoughts were interrupted by a pickup truck pulling over in front of you. You frowned in suspicion. While you hoped that this would be the help you had called for, it seemed way too quick for them to have arrived...A finger of icy dread brushed over your heart as you realised just how vulnerable you were out here, and you opened the glove box to slip the pepper spray that was nestled in there into your pocket. Just in case. The driver of the truck turned off the ignition and stepped out of the cab. The road you were on was not particularly well lit, and so you couldn't see much more than the silhouette of a broad man, bundled up in a thick jacket and with a baseball cap shoved down over messy curls that stuck out from underneath it. His face wasn't revealed until he came toward the hood of your car, an easy, polite smile gracing his handsome features.

He held up a hand to you in greeting. "Hi," he called through the barrier of your window. "Uh...having car problems?" He must have taken note of your suspicious look because he added "I'm a mechanic. I just thought I could take a look if you're in trouble."

You hesitated before cracking the window the tiniest bit so he could hear you. "I'm okay, thank you. I've called for roadside assistance."

He held up his hands in acknowledgement. "Fair enough," he said. "But look, I don't like the thought of you out here alone. Do you mind if I wait with you until they arrive? I'll be in my truck. I don't expect you to talk to me or anything." He cracked a full grin this time, a grin that you noted made his face light up and caused a dimple to wink in his cheek. "My abuela would strike me down from the afterlife if I left someone in a vulnerable position without trying to help."

Still wary, but gradually warming to this man, you nodded. "Thanks. Might be nice to have someone looking out for me."

"Not a problem," he said cheerily. "If you need anything, you know where I'll be!" And with that he lifted his hand in goodbye and went to sit back in his truck.

If he genuinely had no ulterior motives, then this was the sweetest thing anyone had done for you in a very long time, you mused. That's a big "if" though, came the other voice in your head. The small, weak, snide, cynical, distrustful voice that hadn't been a part of your life until a year ago. Everyone always has another motive. No one is ever truly trustworthy, it said. You sighed deeply and tried to push the voice aside. It had changed you, that voice. You had used to be gregarious, happy, able to laugh and live freely. Able to trust easily...No, you didn't want to think about that. Not right now. Right now you wanted...you wanted...warmth. You shivered as your brain suddenly caught up with what your body was feeling. The temperature had definitely dropped, and there was no heat from your car. Although...

Rummaging in the bag that had been resting on the passenger seat, you brought out the remnants of your lunch, including your thermos which still had some tea in it and was still pretty warm. You glanced back up to where you could see the silhouette of the stranger who had taken on the role of guardian tonight. Perhaps it was time to try and put that horrible little voice to rest once and for all. After all, you still had the pepper spray if anything got out of hand.

The windows of the pick up truck were steamed up from the heat inside and you saw the figure of the man startle a little as you knocked on the driver's side. He rolled the window down a bit and the blast of hot air from within felt amazing to your chilled face.

"Uh hi," you said. "I just wanted to say that I appreciate you waiting with me and I have some hot...well warm tea and a little bit of cake to share if you want some?"

The man grinned at you. "That is very thoughtful," he replied. "And I am never one to refuse cake." You passed the foil wrapped bundle to him and began preparing to pour his tea into the cup attached to the thermos. "No need," he said as he stopped your actions by holding out his own cup. "A thermos is a necessity when you get call outs, especially in winter. You never know how long you're going to be outside." He accepted the tea that you poured for him and thanked you. As you made to move away again he called after you. "Hey! Uh...do you...I mean I assume your car is totally kaput. Do you want me to take a look to see if I can get it going enough for the heating to work at least?"

Your automatic reaction was to shut him down, refuse all help and withdraw from his presence, to make yourself small so he wouldn't notice you. You forced yourself to answer in the affirmative. After all, the breakdown people would be here soon. It would be nice to have warmth while you waited. He put the foil wrapped cake on his dashboard, gulped some of the tepid tea and gathered his tools before he came out to join you in the frigid air.

"Christ!" he hissed as the chill slapped him in the face. "Yeah we have to get this sorted. And if we can't, then I think we should take turns in my truck. You'll get ill if you sit in this for too long!"

A warmth suffused your chest and you felt tears start to well again. He was so thoughtful. He didn't make you feel weird or rude for mistrusting him, just tried to make you feel as comfortable as you could in his presence. You snuffled a little, and swiped your gloved finger over your cheek. He appeared not to notice - his head was down and he was already busy under the hood of your car - somehow having opened it without your assistance - and he was poking around by the light of a torch he had produced from his pocket. "Yeah, I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but this isn't looking good," he grunted from under the bonnet after a few minutes. I think you're gonna need a tow." He withdrew and shut the hood again, gesturing with his chin toward his truck. "Go on," he said gently. "Go sit. I'll keep an eye out for the recovery team."

"N-no," you managed to sputter out. "I-I don't want to leave you in the cold either-"

"Hey, its alright," he reassured you. "This is a weird situation and I don't want you to feel uncomfortable. I'll be okay."

Taking your courage with both hands you replied, a little more abruptly than you had intended. "We can both sit. It's fine."

So you sat, you on the driver's side at his insistence. The warmth seeped beautifully into your chilled bones and muscles but it was still a while before you stopped shivering. You shared the cake and some small details about each other. You learned that his name was Francisco, but that everyone called him Frankie. That he used to be in the military and was currently enjoying working as a mechanic, though the work could be a little repetitive for his liking. That he lived not too far from you, and that he was on his way back from dropping off some Christmas presents for his small daughter who was living with her mother. His smile was a little bitter when he spoke of the situation, and you didn't want to press him on the issue. So you told him about yourself - the usual details - name, job, siblings and he seemed to perk up again. When he asked about your Christmas plans, he must have seen the way your face fell and he immediately apologised.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I know Christmas can be hard for some people. Forget I said anything."

You exhaled a deep breath. "It's okay. I just...I haven't spoken to many people about this."

"You don't have to-" he began.

"I know," you interrupted. "But I want to. I know I only just met you, but you've been so kind and...well weird as it sounds you've given me hope that there are still good people in the world. I feel like I need to start letting go of what happened if I can, and one way is by talking about it." You smiled at him. "So I guess its true that no good deed goes unpunished. You were kind to me and now you get to listen to me ramble on about the shit in my life."

He shifted in his seat, turning more fully toward you, his body language open and accepting. "You tell me yours, I'll tell you mine," he offered as he held out his hand. You hesitated briefly before shaking it, but when you did you noted that it was warm and calloused and engulfed yours almost fully. So you told him. About how Christmas had always been a time of joy and family and warmth for you. How you had always loved every part of it, from the lights to the ridiculous Christmas sweaters to the music to the food. Until last year when you had felt unwell at your Christmas work party and had come home early to find your fiancé in your bed and fucking the woman that you had chosen to be your maid of honour. At this, Frankie blew his cheeks out and released a slow and sympathetic breath.

"That wasn't even the worst of it," you all but whispered, looking through the windshield into the blackness of the night but not truly seeing what was in front of you. "He doubled down on it. Told me that I should have known something like this would happen. That I should take better care of myself if I wanted to keep a man. That my tits were too big and my ass was too small. That I should grow the fuck up and stop playing video games. That no one would ever want someone who couldn't have kids." At this Frankie made a low, angry noise in his chest and your attention turned back to him. "That last one wasn't the hurtful comment he thought it was. I can't have kids, but I never really wanted to give birth so that kind of works out. But he didn't know that so...yeah. It wasn't a great Christmas. I find it very difficult to trust people. For obvious reasons. And because I don't really trust myself anymore. If I could misjudge someone that badly..." You trailed off, shaking your head in amazement at your past stupidity.

Frankie held his hand out to you again and again you took it after a moment, holding it this time rather than shaking it. He looked you full in the face and into your eyes, their dark depths seeming to capture and captivate a part of you that you thought had died a year ago. "Never blame yourself for what happened," he said, forcefully. "That guy is an asshole and you had a lucky escape. You deserve someone who loves you for you, not for who they want you to be. I'm so sorry he ruined Christmas for you. That fucking sucks." He paused before seeming to come to a decision and ploughing on with his words. "I wish...I don't mean this to sound creepy but I wish I could fix it. Make Christmas something good for you again. But you know, not everything's as simple as an engine..." He trailed off, a little awkwardly.

"Its not creepy," you reassured him. "Its a sweet thought. But after today, I don't know if its fixable any more." At his quizzical eyebrow raised in silent question you sighed and forced yourself to press on. "They announced their engagement today," you said softly. "And...and its my birthday. Hence the-" You trailed off and gestured at the remnants of the cake. Frankie let out a noise of disbelief and compressed your hand within his much larger one in a supportive kind of way. "Don't tell me they didn't know. There are 364 other days they could have chosen. It just feels like it reopened all the old wounds. And I don't know why they seem to hate me so much. I shouldn't even care, I know. But it hurt, so apparently I do." Before he could react, you cleared your throat and sat up a little straighter. You weren't entirely sure why, but you thought that sympathy from this gorgeous stranger might just tip you over the edge, and you knew that once you began crying you would find it very difficult to stop. Instead, you moved the conversation swiftly on.

"So, come on. We shook on it. What shit has life thrown at you?" He told you. Unvarnished and straightforwardly he told you. About his coke addiction that had cost him his pilot's licence and the struggle he was facing to get it back. About the PTSD he had suffered from his time in Delta Force. About his ongoing divorce and of not living with his daughter anymore. His face was calm and relatively inexpressive throughout his recital of his litany of pain, and you wondered how many times he had spoken about it in therapeutic settings, and how much came from repression of his emotions.

"So yeah," he concluded. "Christmas isn't the best time for me right now either. This...uh...this is the first year I won't get to see her on Christmas morning and its just...its hard." You squeezed his hand, having not let it go whilst he was talking, and he squeezed back and gave a barking, slightly bitter laugh. "Is it weird that we've opened up to each other like this? I mean, I have friends who are ex-military and they get a lot of what I'm saying when I talk about this stuff. But I don't think I've ever met someone and blurted this out within an hour or two. I'll never get a second date now!" His smile was warm and cheeky and his eyes twinkled with good-natured teasing, making his face look a decade younger than he was.

"Hey, don't count yourself out just yet!" you shot back. Even though your tone was joking, there was an undercurrent of sincerity to it that you yourself hadn't entirely been expecting. Frankie certainly hadn't and his expression moved to pleasant surprise before he looked down at his lap, an almost shy smile now gracing his lips. "Sorry," you breathed, a heat of embarrassment creeping into your face. "I didn't...I mean, I wasn't-"

"It's okay," Frankie interjected, raising his gaze to you again. "It's...it's okay. I-" He broke off suddenly as his attention was taken by something beyond the truck. "Hey look," he said softly.

You followed his gaze to where a gentle dusting of fine snow had started to settle over everything you could see except for the warm bonnet of Frankie's truck. The flakes were getting visibly fatter the longer you watched them pass through the beams of his headlights. Snow wasn't going to make getting home any easier, but at this minute you didn't care. It was so beautiful. And the sight of it stirred another pleasant warmth in your chest. "You wanna go out in it?" you smiled at Frankie.

"Hell yeah," he grinned back.

Taglist - @thisshipwillsail316 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @elegantduckturtle @dihra-vesa @midwesternwitchery @just-here-for-the-moment @eri16

You waited beside his truck watching the increasingly heavy snowfall swirl around you until your breakdown crew arrived. And while you stood in the cold and the dark and the icy wind, he held out his hand for yours again, and this time you surrendered to him without hesitation.

Day Six

[becca-e-barnes]

hi lovely, I wanted to make a request about a sensitive topic, so it's ok if you decide not to.

But if you decide to do it, Zemo x Reader where she has been sexually abused and he comforts her, because I just need him to tell me that it was not my fault.

I sometimes remember the moment it happened and it makes me really sad and guilty. I'm really sorry if this request triggers you. Thank you in advance🖤

Honey omg, can I start off by saying whatever happened was absolutely not your fault. I woke up at 5am and saw this request and I just couldn’t get back to sleep until I had started writing it. I was in a similar situation a few years ago so this is really based off my experience and how I found I dealt with it. While it still upsets me sometimes I’ve found I don’t think about it as often as I used to so it does get better, I promise. I actually found this quite cathartic to write since it’s something I don’t talk about much. If you ever want a little chat, please don’t be scared to shoot me a message! Hope you’re doing okay 💗

Pairing: Helmut Zemo x GN! Reader

(Again, the fact this is gender neutral was a happy accident but I wanted it to be applicable to anyone that might find some comfort in it)

Word count: 1.5 k

Summary: You have a bad night and Zemo comforts you (list of international resources at the end.)

Warnings: TW: Sexual Assault mention, please don’t read this if those themes will upset you. There are no graphic descriptions, this is more just the reader dealing with the aftermath. Hurt/ comfort, quite dark, angst, Zemo does his best but everyone heals differently, fluff.

You weren’t quite sure how it had happened but it had become one of those nights where reality had become a little too heavy to handle. You had went to bed feeling fine but woke in the early hours, head swimming with the recollection of everything that had happened. All of a sudden, sleep was the last thing on your mind, your body jarred awake by the painful memories and the sickly feeling that always accompanied them. Rather than spend the night tossing and turning in bed beside your boyfriend, you got up, hauling your sleep deprived frame from the warmth of your bed, heading to the little snug at the end of the hall. Grounding yourself wasn’t easy when you felt like this, but you had to take the time to notice the little things or risk losing yourself in the past altogether. You let yourself notice the little breeze that came in through the window down your hall, the smooth feeling of the wooden bannister under your fingertips and the cold that travelled up your bare legs as your feet padded softly across the wooden floor. Your pyjama shorts tickled the tops of your thighs as you walked the short distance before you gently pushed the heavy wooden door, admiring how it manoeuvred silently under your touch, despite it’s weight. None of these things were particularly special, often lost in the monotony of day to day life but during these early mornings where the past felt all too real, they were little blessings, reminders of the present.

Closing the door behind you quietly, you made your way over to the little cushioned window ledge. It had been extended so it was easily large enough to sit on, giving you a vantage point to look out the topmost window of the house, completely unobstructed. You settled into the familiar spot, legs crossed in front of you. From here you could see everything that went on in the grounds of Helmut’s massive estate. You could see the little stream running down beside your house, often your favourite point of focus as it was ever changing and therefore, distracting. Huge birds swooped and dived at the lake, hoping to procure some breakfast for themselves and their young, some flying off triumphantly with a tasty fish while others left with nothing, frustrated by the difficulties of hunting. Apart from the running water and their squawks, there were no other sounds to disturb the early morning air.

The birds were an adequate distraction for around an hour before you began to lose interest, feeling your mind wander once more in a direction you didn’t want it to take. That pang of guilt hit you deep in the chest as you began to feel like your body was tainted in some way. Horrible memories flooded your head, memories of roaming hands and that feeling of being painfully helpless, your chest feeling like it might collapse under the weight of those memories. You had no more tears left to cry when you thought about what had happened, while it still hurt as intensely as it did, the memories weren’t often accompanied by tears anymore, rather a guilty ache in your chest that threatened to consume you and you honestly weren’t sure which was worse. A good cry used to get it all out, give you the opportunity to start fresh and you often felt all the better for it when you were done but the ache was harder to manage. You hated how this was now something you had to live with, knowing that someone else’s actions had such a huge reign over your life.

You were so lost in thought, you hadn’t even noticed Helmut slipping in behind you until you heard the faint click of the heavy wooden door.

“Bad night my love?” He asked softly, his voice barely disturbing the calm, his accent noticeably thicker after he had just woken up. He was still in a little thin pair of cotton pyjamas, hair messy and tousled from sleep. You could only nod in response, noticing how his lips pressed together so he didn’t voice his anger about the person that had done this to you. He didn’t want the focus of this to be on them and their selfish actions, that wasn’t helpful but it didn’t stop his blood boiling in his veins. Dealing with this was often as hard for him as it was for you, seeing the only person he loved so dearly feel the way you did, knowing you were hurting and he wasn’t able to take the pain away sometimes brought him to a very dark place.

“May I touch you?” He whispered quietly, knowing that sometimes having that contact could be worse for you.

“Please.” You nodded simply, feeling his body slot in behind yours. His legs bracketed yours, arms wrapped around your waist and his head buried in the crook of your neck as you both went back to watching the birds silently. His heart beating in his chest was comforting against you, the rise and fall of his breathing giving you something else to focus on.

“This is not your cross to bear alone, my dove.” He whispered, thumbs rubbing at the exposed skin of your waist where your pyjama top had ridden up slightly.

“I know I just… Didn’t want to wake you.” You replied, equally softly.

“How many times must I tell you sweetheart, I want you to wake me. Let me be there for you.” He pleaded, pressing little kisses to your shoulders, hoping to rid your arms of the goosebumps that had begun to form. He was not mad, not at you anyway, understanding that sometimes you just needed the time alone to come to terms with things but if you needed him, he wanted to be there. There was a heavy pause that hung in the air after that, both of you slightly weighed down by the gravity of the emotions this can inflict on you as a couple.

“Can I talk about it?” You asked softly. It wasn’t something you did very often, preferring not to burden Helmut too much with the details. He had heard it all before so nothing would surprise him but you were still conscious that it hurt him to hear what had happened.

“Of course.” He answered, gentle chaste kisses to your shoulders reminding you that this was entirely on your terms. He did not press you to talk further when you had said enough, he also didn’t let his own pain at the situation take away from yours, knowing if you needed to talk about it, he had to be there to listen. You took a deep breath, taking one of his hands in yours, clasping them together.

“I just feel… Tainted? I feel guilty. Feel like I could’ve done more to stop it.” You knew you couldn’t have done more but there was always a nagging sense of ‘what if’. Helmut nodded from behind you, giving your hand a little squeeze, waiting to see if you wanted to continue. “Feel like it’s my fault. And now I have to deal with it. But you don’t have to.” You explained quietly, ache in your chest growing to sharp pain.

“You are not tainted my love. Nor was it your fault. You could not have done more to prevent it and even if you could, that is not the point. You shouldn’t have had to do more. One ‘no’ should have been enough.” It killed him to know you thought like this about yourself. He didn’t see you like that at all. Your body wasn’t tainted from what had happened, it didn’t make him want you less. It made him admire your strength and courage, seeing how you got up every morning and took care of the body you blamed. “Your blame is misplaced my love. The blame is not yours to carry. You have done no wrong.” His words made warmth flourish in your chest, hearing him listen to you and truly understand meant more to you than he would ever know.

“Thank you Helmut.” You whispered, tears brimming in your eyes, spilling over your cheeks but not from sadness, more from the unconditional love Helmut afforded you, the time he took to make you be gentler to your body again making you feel more loved than you could’ve imagined possible.

“Not at all, my sweet.” He whispered, gripping you just a little tighter. He loved you, every single part of you. To him, you were perfect and nothing would change that. He just wanted to help you through your pain and absolve you of it, hoping some day you could see yourself how he saw you.

A/N: I’m going to drop this link here just in case it’s needed, this was the most comprehensive resource I could find. If you need it, please do use it. 💗

https://osapr.harvard.edu/international-resources-0

[all-about-seggs]

A pact in blood-

Rating: 18+, Explicit

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem! Reader

Word count: ~3K

Warnings: Semi-incest (Satoru is your cousin/ distant relative), masturbation, Cunnilingus, fingering, hand job, the relationship is a bit messed up, yandereish undertones.

A/n: This takes place when he's still in the academy.* Image source*

“AA-ahhh! Please don’t- don’t stop…”,

Your broken pleas reverberated through the room as Satoru’s deft fingers worked their way in and out of your sopping wet hole. You gripped the sturdy jacket that covered his shoulders, folding the fabric between your fists was the only thing you could do to maintain the last shred of composure you had.

He was like a passing cloud who offered you momentary relief and was on his way as soon as your were done, the fragments of longings that remained on your body etched deeper after every night.

Position after position, he went from your pussy over his lips to eating you out ass up and face down, all for the pleasure you couldn’t seem to get by yourself. You were now splayed out on his lap, face buried in his neck and one arm draped over him for support. Waves of his sweet scent and the euphoria assaulting your senses at the same time, taking you closer and closer to the edge.

It’s been quite some time now but the memory of your first encounter with your unfairly gorgeous cousin Satoru has been etched into your mind as if it happened just yesterday.

You were in the manor of the esteemed Gojo clan for a family event and even though you didn’t shared the same surname you were related nonetheless and were hence invited. It was a four day and three night celebration where the entire place was abuzz with excitement.

It didn’t really mattered to you, being here with a go with a flow kind of attitude, you just minded your own business until spoken to and not mingling with the faceless crowd of people you didn’t even knew the names of.

Thankfully your room was in the separate building which was a little bit further from where all the riotous events centered around. After just half a day of being in the middle of the chaos you wanted to find a way to unwind and that’s when it happened.

Stark naked and two fingers up your little cunt, there was no explaining or bullshitting your way out of this situation when the heir of the household, Satoru Gojo himself walked in in you. Feeble attempts to cover yourself and half hearted stutterings died in your mouth as soon as the young man opened his.

“ Wrong”, the deadpan reply of his made your already shaken up state worsen. Panic flooding in your system begged you to make excuses or atleast request him to not speak of this to anyone, after all families of high status are nothing if not conservative and you didn’t wanted to cause anyone any trouble.

“ I meant, y/n chan, that you’re doing it wrong”, not paying any mind to your internal conflict he continued speaking form where he stood near the door, “ don’t you know how to masturbate? I thought you were in highschool?”

His genuinely perplexed tone made you reconsider your previous opinions about the heir to the clan. Satoru, a guy who walked in on a relative masturbating, was supposed to show courtesy and leave the second he entered but instead he was rating your technique, which in all honesty may have been lacking indeed but you were desperate to cum and he seemed to pick up on that.

“ Since you’re clearly having trouble getting off”, he loosened the obi of his particularly formal kimono and shifted his uncovered ocean blue eyes towards your form, “Want me to teach you?”, his question made you gulp, then gauge your eyeballs out in disbelief. Sure you weren’t closely related and have only spoken once or twice but you attended all the occasions and holiday celebrations at their place and knew that your relationship was only platonic. His offer to cross that line made you flinch back at first.

Heaving a sigh he closed the door and sat cross legged on the tatami mat next to your futon.

“ Relax, t’s not a big deal”, flashing a toothy grin he leaned forward until your noses touched.

“ Afterall, I AM your big brother”

“ wait- you’re also in highschool!”, You retorted, “ I bet you’re a virgin too. So what CAN you teach me anyway?”, overcoming the initial embarrassment, your mouth started moving in its own accord only getting encouraged by his laid back demeanor.

“ Pfttt- so you get defensive when cornered? How cute!”, he giggled, a smile teasing at his lips at your obvious attempt to hide the shame burning in your core.

“Don’t worry, I know my way around a pussy just fine”, light hearted words fell effortlessly from his mouth and you could swear half of your brain was short circuiting because of his crude way of speaking. For all his regal appearance, he was just like any other highschooler, a year older than you but his stature and delicate features gave him a magestic aura that exceeds that of people decades older than him.

Just by the few encounters from the past, you figured he wasn’t one for following traditions or rules if it didn’t suit him. He was way above the rest, in his own distant world everytime you saw him, the school he went to, the things he had experienced were all different.

Forgetting the other's existence after passing each other by with a few formalities exchanged was all you had done with each. You two were never close or even friends but now the chance presented itself to take your non existent relationship to the extreme end through your bodies.

You wanted this.

To feel good. The hormones of youth pumping your impulsiveness you relax your muscles and lie on your back. You could clearly hear Satoru’s playfully indifferent chuckle from above when you slowly part your legs to show him the sides of yourself that even you have never completely seen.

“Just this once, okay?”

He said he was just teaching you how to masturbate but it wasn’t that simple. The only person to get naked was you and the only person who experienced the mind numbing pleasure, was also you. He only needed his deft fingers and mouth to make you feel better and for a while you didn’t even question.

That one lesson of self pleasure which you both were supposed to forget turned into an entire session as day after day Satoru would show up at your parents house unbeknownst to a soul and you both crossed the same lines of platonic relationship everyday.

The euphoria was endless but with a single rule that you weren’t allowed to touch him in turn and it goes without saying that the two of you never went all the way. It would always start with small talks about the day, even when you’d be talking, all your focus was on what was to come next.

That’s why after a few weeks of the detached pleasure he provided you, it got you thinking what he actually wanted from you. Satoru had already seen, touched and tasted all your body had to offer, never revealing any of his own.

You wondered if he ever felt sexually frustrated by always giving and never asking for anything in return. You knew he was not THAT nice. At least that’s what you believed considering his sadistic streak in bed. He did seem to be enjoying himself when he's messing you up so maybe he didn’t have many sexual urges that he needed to satisfy and was just acting on curiosity or maybe he had someone else, someone older with more experience who he didn’t constantly had a upper hand with and was able to see them as an equal. This thought alone made your chest tight, with an unnatural pain that threatened to break your heart.

You had to catch your darkening train of thought before it reached to the conclusion you were most afraid of. Knowing full well that this was just a fleeting moment that is only supposed to be enjoyed through a lens of carefree thinking, you push the budding feelings of the some very complicated emotions out of your system. The surge of jealousy you felt may have born out of falling in love with a family member but it was wrong on so many levels.

A love that starts with lust never ends well for anyone but as you were laying in his arms, the control over your body handed completely to him, your mind wondered how things would feel vice versa.

“ You seem distracted y/n”, Satoru looked at you, with his glasses off the beautiful azure eyes hidden beneath a delicate layer of white eyelashes filled your vison.

“ I’m obviously not doing it right if you have time to get lost in your thoughts”, putting you down on your bed, he started to move away and for a minute you got your hopes up, thinking your chance to finally have him completely and you cursed yourself for wanting at the same time. But no amount of berating would scrub off the insatiable thirst you had, for its roots had already made their way to your heart.

“Please let me help you too”, these few words took a lot of guts, letting go of all the inhibitions and threads of morality you fix Satoru with an unwavering gaze.

“ That’s okay babygirl, I’M the one who does the teaching here afterall”, you saw what he was trying to do, his airy yet gentle tone didn’t left much room for argument but the gray zone of your relationship was blurring to the point of confusion urged you to give into your clamoring emotions.

Without a second thought you jumped on him with all your might, closing the distance he put within seconds to cover his mouth with yours. You knew how much you weighed but despite your aggressive actions his sturdy form didn’t even deter form his position while catching you. You twirled your tongue over the roof of his mouth, the taste of your juices still lingering in there.

Hoping to have proven your resolve that wasn’t going to settle for getting brushed aside you break the kiss and look expectantly at him. An invisible bond between the two of you taking shape, strengthening the magnetism that attracted you to him.

“ That eager for my cock are you?”, Taking your face in one of his huge hand he makes you look straight at him, “You really want more? More than I'm already giving you?”, just one more push. You thought, with just a bit of coaxing, you were sure Satoru's wishy washy rules would crumble to make way for your upcoming actions.

“ I do. I know exactly what I want but”, steeling your nerves you face him, eye to eye, “ What do YOU want?”. The question was simple but the conflict swirling within Satoru’s eyes was evident and for the first time you realised that maybe this wasn’t just a case of casual hookup for him as well.

“ I want all your firsts. That’s all.” After a short stretch of silence he spoke, ironically the borderline obsessiveness of his glib response, like magic, cleared away the fog was previously clouding your mind. The nonchalance of his smirk should've been the red flag that made you rethink your life choices but the heat of the moment only seemed to ignite your lust.

Not uttering a single word, you quickly work on shedding him off his cloths, he doesn’t make any attempts at stopping you this time around, this knowledge pulling a smile out of you. By the time you reached for his boxers your hands were shaking.

Whether from excitement or nervousness you couldn’t tell but looking down through the veil of his heavy eyelashes, Satoru’s passion was evident.

Eyeing up his exposed body you still for a moment to take it all in. You ran you hands through his sculpted chest and down to his abdomen, your nails scratching the surface of his defined muscles. All of his masculinity contrasted with his oddly sweet scent and velvety pink lips that never failed to lure you in for deep soft kisses.

There’s no doubt girls must be always fawning over him and his perfectly smooth skin was something that even made you jealous. You were so captivated by his looks that you had to shake yourself free from your lovesick stupor .

You feel him up a little, hands running across his toned chest, you drag your nails through the rise and dips of his abdomen down to the contours of his defined V- line before turning your attention to his hardening member. Your breath quickens as your trembling fingers hook beneath his waistband.

Taking out his pulsating member you run your eyes up and down his entire length. He was big, to say at the very least. Bigger than you'd expected and more than you thought you could handle but backing out now would be straight up hypocrisy when your drooling mouth said otherwise.

With your ass right next to his chest, you start licking and sucking his tip with fervour, not wanting to waste even a single drop of his cum that you wanted so bad. You heard him moan lightly behind you, his voice only fuelled the fire that was burning your core. Having never given a blow job to anyone before you struggled in keeping a steady pace and his girthy cock didn’t make it any easier on you.

In just a few minutes you jaw ached and your entire face hurted but Satoru showed no signs of cumming.

In your own world again, you racked up your brain to figure out how to please him when suddenly you felt a hand climbing up your thigh. With the other hand he gripped your hips and pulled your lower half until you were straddling his mouth.

“ It’s a lot better like this don’t you think?”, as he spoke you felt his breath caressing your nether lips and you shivered in delight at the new position.

He snaked his hands in between your thighs and spread open your slit, glistening with your dripping arousal using his thumbs. Every single fold of yours now in display Satoru licked his plush lips before leaving open mouthed kisses on the exposed skin. His lips pulling out a series of appreciative hums as you desperately try to focus on your own actions.

Taking his hard length half in your mouth and half in one of your hand you tried to match the skilful movements of Satoru’s tongue that relentlessly lapped at your clit. After a few minutes of trying and failing to suck him up properly your senses got completely clouded by the heavy onslaught of that familiar release you had gotten used to.

You wanted to ask him to stop so you catch up to him but he the vigor in his actions and your own overwhelming surge of desires made you decide against it, the broken stings of his name died down with you still half choking on his length.

The only thing your lust laden mind could decipher except for pleasure was shame. To you, it was shameful how, being the one who asked to touch him, you were the one tethering near the edge. Before long your convulsing pussy was dripping with your juices, trickling down from his face that was still buried nose deep in your crotch.

Messing you up always filled Satoru with a kind of affection that he didn’t thought he was capable of.

Your cute whines getting muffled by his cock that you could only take half way past your llip sent waves of ecstasy down his spine. The cum that kept on flowing from your aching hole that he was the first to taste and the last as well took him to a high that no amount of pleasure could.

He couldn’t decide whether he wanted to be the provider of your everything who had complete control over you or if he just wanted to spend hours into the night, praising every fibre of your being that was so eager to make him feel good. This duality of his thoughts confused him further and in that moment he knew he had to see this to the end.

Your heavy pants was the only thing that could be heard in the otherwise silent room, guilt and pleasure leaving you tongue tied. You move yourself from above him, your quivering body falling like a sac just beside his own.

“ I’m sorry! I couldn’t make you-“, before you could finish your breathy apology he brought up a finger near your frowning lips to quite you down.

“Its okay sugar, it was your first time. Not a big deal.”, the soft notes of his voice took the edge off of the disappointment you felt, “I told you. I’ll teach you everything.”

Those eyes. Two shining orbs of brilliant blue gazed at you in the same way you found yourself staring at him. Watching over you like it was their birthright and oddly enough, the scrutiny made you feel completly at home just like the warmth of his long arms that wrapped themselves around you.

" Realx Y/n, I'll be very thourough with my teaching, afterall,", your heart thumped loudly in your chest in response to his smooth voice, "I don't do things halfway.

The pleasent fatigue that had taken a hold of your body slowly dissipated but the growing haziness of your mind got you wondering if you were falling in deepness of his ocean blue eyes but as soon realization hit you, you were already halfway through blacking out.

That you’d never be forgiven for wanting.

From that moment on, you knew.

Part 2? Idk you tell me(╯︵╰,)

[wowsoboring]

Deconstructing baseless Harry Potter arguments #1: Harmony Edition

There’s a very helpful account on instagram (this instagram page merely gathers toxic harmony shippers, they don’t ship Harmione or hate all Harmione shippers, please don’t send them hate, show them love and support) where you can essentially find stupid fucking bashers who make baseless arguments. I’m all for Harmione shippers, as long as they don’t denounce Romione, bash Ron and just peacefully co-exist. To my pleasure, such people are out there: they just dont seem to be seen as often as the ones that are not nice. Maybe all I see is the mean people and the majority is nice, but in this post, I am attacking those who make baseless claims and bash Ron/Romione/Hinny/Ginny. I don’t myself hate all Harmione shippers. On top of that, as a Romione/Ron fan, i do acknowledge Ron’s character flaws along with Hermione’s and I hold them on the same pedestal.

This is copied directly from my own instagram page, granger.weasley_ on ig.

Anyways let's get deconstructing

1)

rebuttal:

Yeah okay mf; maybe don’t compare real-life relationships with fucking fictional ones. Your relationship going wrong has nothing to do with Ron/Hermione. It has everything to do with you and your ex: the *real life* people involved in it.

2)

rebuttal:

The weird subreddits and discord servers also seem to have a lot of die-hard Harmione “non-canon” shippers. They bash Ron and Romione (along with Ginny and Hinny) with a burning passion without any objective sense of remorse. They ignore all the merits of Ron’s character and bash him to push their agenda. They can’t even do so much as fucking acknowledge any of Hermione’s character flaws but still somehow manage to fixate on that one time when 11 year old Ron just shit-talked one line while Hermione had just publicly humiliated him in front of the Charms class and practically shouted at him for doing the spell wrong just before. I personally don’t because Hermione was 11 too and wasn’t that good at social cues that early on, which is more than okay. Neither am I.

Only a few people in the Romione fandom bash Hermione. And it’s not like Harmione shippers (most, not all!) don’t bash Ron and Ginny remorselessly, right? The fucking hypocrisy.

If someone considers Ron as the best member of the trio, it is their own opinion and not a fact. I do that. If you consider Harry and Hermione as the best member of the trio or in the whole wizarding world, most people don’t give a flying fuck and probably won’t argue with you because it is simply an opinion. That will only happen when you pass that off as a fact.

Statistically speaking, most (not FUCKING all) Harmione moments are in the movies. The weird dance scene especially. The passionate kiss that happens in Ron’s vision, shit like that. Ron is pushed to the sidelines in the last set of movies while Harry and Hermione show each other endless love and support. “I’ll go with you”. The books on the other hand, describe Harry and Hermione as siblings multiple times, with very little Harmione references.

3)

rebuttal:

So you don't want us to fixate on the large majority of Harmione shippers who do the exact same thing, just kissing Hermione's and Harry's ass and hating on Ron. However you will fixate on people who are most likely not EVEN bashing or hating but pointing out a few character flaws in Hermione in a fair and unbiased way. I would know, I'm a huge fan of Hermione as an individual character (in the books). The only criticism I've seen of Hermione to this day has not been bashing. In the comment section of my own fics (shameless plug) I've seen some Hermione bashing. On an ao3 comment section. And I've seen so damn fucking many people bashing Ron, Ginny, the Weasleys etc. and garner tens and thousands of upvotes on quora.

What does Ron even need excusing for? The running away incident and Krum. What does Hermione need excusing for? Canaries, contributing to Ron's insecurities by making him jealous through Cormac and Krum even though she didn't even like them (especially not Cormac, she fucking hated him). Ron wore a locket that literally highlighted his fatal flaw (insecurity) in an echo chamber. Harry kept getting annoyed when Ron wanted to check in on his family. Harry asked Ron to leave; Ron didn't say that shit in the books about Harry's parents being dead: that was plain shock value.

And sorry for repeating myself but I have seen quite a few Harmione shippers bash Ron and Ginny and excuse every single thing Harry and Hermione have done.

4)

37 upvotes on this weird comment that makes no sense? Echo chamber alert! You know what us Romione/Ron fans all have in common? We have never experienced such an echo chamber. I made a pro Ron/Romione post on reddit and got a considerable amount of people who bashed Ron and Romione in the comments.

The amount of Hermione haters is very few compared to Ron bashers. Nobody hates Hermione for being independent, determined, etc. We dislike perfect movie Hermione who’s an unrealistic image of females and seems like some sort of agenda than a real woman. Most Romione shippers/Ron fans and book fans in general (except for you apparently) dislike movie Hermione and still are fans of realistic book Hermione. Most, not all. In general, we do not claim anyone who does the exact same thing to Harry and Hermione that these sorts of Harmione shippers do to Ron, Romione, Hinny and Ginny. I say this on the behalf of all Romione shippers and Ron fans.

Ron's not a bitchy lay-about drama causing loser. That's Steve Kloves's movie Ron. In the books Ron is realistic and simplistic and apologizes whenever he causes problems. He acts up substantially twice in a span of 7 years where he is also a hormone-fuelled teenager.

This is so contradictory and juxtaposed to the point of near delusion. First you talk about how Romione shippers bash Hermione and then you bash Ron as a Harmione shipper. Mate, fighting fire with fire will get you called a hypocrite. Fix yourself.

5)

So the movies are fine when they work according to your agenda? And yes how dare he add such a (fake) chemistry fuelled moment between Harry and Hermione while defeating the entire purpose and groundwork for Romione, the sadness caused by Ron leaving and so many more things? Those Harmione moments you mention seem friendship -esque more than anything else.

Steve Kloves's moments ruined many things while just paying fan service to the Harmione fans he'd birthed through years in the course of 6 movies where he showed Ron as a, how you so eloquently describe it, lay - about drama causing bitchy loser, Harry as one dimensional and Hermione as a zero - dimensional Mary Sue who might as well be the main titular character. Obviously Harmione fans such as yourself don't see the problem with it as it fits your narrative

6)

We do care about Harry and Hermione at large. Most Romione shippers rightfully bash Draco, Pansy, etc. not particularly Harry and Hermione, that's quite rare. Harry and Hermione can get along without Ron as friends. Ron and Harry can also get along without. Hermione as friend. So can Hermione and Ron without Harry as friends or more. I don't understand your point and how what you said is any different than Romione or Ronarry’s friendship.

7)

Constant arguing is not what they do. They bicker, they apologize, and sometimes they just do it for the heck of it. They are argumentative teenager. Opposites attract doesn't work in the sense of fire and ice, it works in the case of Brownie and ice-cream. Ron is passionate, laid back and insecure. Hermione's passionate, a workaholic and not as insecure. Ron can help her get calm and composed and get her to give herself a break. Hermione can motivate Ron and re - enforce his confidence.

It wouldn't be step incest. Harry and Ginny do not regard each other as siblings. They do not look similar whatsoever. And a Harmione shipper also bashes Hinny and Ginny along with Ron and Romione? Checks out

" that fucked up Harmony" hahaha. What?

8)

Are you literally going to date someone on the basis of what Harry Potter ships they prefer? That is so shallow end depraved. Your Harry Potter ship preferences should not be the groundwork for your dating life. Please understand that. Harry Potter is a fictional world which is not real. Hogwarts doesn't exist. Magic doesn't exist. I sound like a Dursley but that's what it is: a fictional realm with fictional character. I would personally not give a fuck if my best friend or significant other was a Harmione shipper. In the case of them being a Ron basher, I would ignore it as if it was just a minor inconvenience and something we wouldn't be discussing and that's how it should be with you. Fuck BuzzFeed, your opinion on what Harry Potter ship / character is your favorite says squat about your personality and relationship with others in a romantic or platonic context. But who cares? Live your life however you want. I'll be stoic.

9)

It's not opposites attract rubbish or high school opposites attract. Ron and Hermione aren't polar opposites like I said, they are a bit different but similar too in many ways. They have a lot more in common than Harry and Hermione. Ron and Harry have the most in common. Both Ron and Hermione are passionate, loving, argumentative, caring, etc. Your argument lacks substance. It's biased trash. And what does “obhwf " mean?

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

at the end of the day, i’m just an annoyed teenager. I try my best to be open-minded to people but only as long as they are too. I tried to use my brain more than my feelings for this post. 

[xuxishortcake]

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : you are an undercover agent, still fairly new at the job & on the search for two notorious con men, who might be part of a gang in the mafia. it's your job to figure out what's going on but oh my, are they more dashing than expected.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 : switch!reader sub!jungkook dom!taehyung smut , cursing, forced into s*x , cream pie , fingering , blowjob , double penetration

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 3k

hello everyone! this officialy my second fanfic I've written, so pardon if there are any mistakes, grammar errors, etc. feedback is appreciated greatly! hope u love the fic!! ^_^

✧༺🍷༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧

you wore a black suit that was nicely tailored to your body. you were driving around in San Francisco because you were assigned to work there for the day. all you knew so far was that you were after two con men who might've been involved in serious Mafia activity. you kept your ears on alert, waiting for more information from your agency. finally, you got an incoming call on your watch.

"hello?"

"hey y/n, it's seulgi. so I've found the house you need to go into, it's in the Presidio Hights neighborhood. I'll send you the full address. " *ding* came in the address & seulgi continued on. "the two men are Korean with the names Jeon Jeongguk & Kim Taeyhung. remember, be careful, we have no idea what these two are capable of, there's evidence pointing to them being in the Seo-bang Faction group."

"don't worry," your replied. " I might be one of the newer agents, but I've been taught well. "

"ok. we're counting on you. we have backup, but it'll take about 10minutes to get to the mansion since we don't want them to discover us. "

"gotcha. I'll call once I'm done." & you hung up the phone.

you pulled out the message with the address, put on your navigation system & started driving towards your destination.

thirty minutes later, you arrived & parked nearby the grand mansion you were to go inside of. you scouted far away with a special type of glasses to find an entry way. there was easy to open windows on the second story & you made your way to the mansion. going through the window, you stepped onto the plush, maroon colored carpet. finally inside, you walked as quietly as you could, your shoes were designed anyways to be as quiet as possible but it was better to be safe than sorry. it was surprisingly quite minimalistic with decor, the decor itself though being very ornate. you looked down the interior balcony. a grand set of marble stairs led up to the second floor & third floor. you started walking up to the third floor, there were some pretty expensive looking paintings leading up. finally reaching to the top, you walked down the long corridor. checking in each room if there were any signs of life. no luck. where in the hell were they? could it have been possible they knew somehow someone was coming & left? the final room you were about to check was the biggest, the master bedroom. the first thing you took notice of was the huge espresso colored canopy bed with a velvety crimson bed spread. there were also a few shelves with gold items & books on them. you looked through them all, to see if there was anything hidden but there was nothing. you checked in the huge bathroom, nothing. just a beautiful & large bathtub & joint sink. puzzled, you sat on top of the bed. you hadn't a clue what to do next. there weren't any new messages from the agency, so the two must've been in the house somewhere. you started to feel a sudden wave of drowsiness wash over you. was it because of the jet lag? no, this isn't normal. it was probably sleeping gas. you were now barely able to keep your eyes open & saw two figures walk into the room. {shit.} you thought, & blacked out.

what seemed to be hours later, you slowly started to regain consciousness. you were calling out to your watch to call your agency & nothing happened. you now realized you were tied to a chair & stripped of gadgets, weaponry & even your own clothes. you started to turn your chair around the room to find if there was anyone around. in came from the corridor & into the bedroom the two men you were supposed to find. they both were nicely tailored, as to be expected but the thing that had caught you off guard was their visuals. the two seemed to be in their twenties & were very, very good looking. they sat down onto a sofa that was across from you, both staring intently into your eyes.

"well," said the one with particularly long eyelashes "are you going to start talking or no? "

"yeah, we're not waiting all day for an answer. " vocalized the other, looking you up & down.

you felt absolutely mortified. not only were these men goddamn gorgeous, but you were only in the pair of black lace underwear that was concealed underneath your suit, which was now in a bundle in the corner of the room.

"I was sent here to investigate the two of you."

"by whomst?" asked the one with the long eyelashes.

you stayed silent. if these men were really part of the Seo-bang Faction group you could never let them know where you worked at, for your whole agency could be in grave danger.

"still not trying to talk hm? bring out the gun, jeongguk."

your eyes widened, trying to maintain a calm face. jeongguk went out of the bedroom. a few seconds later, he came back in with an old fashioned looking pistol, handing it over to taehyung. taehyung cocked the gun.

"now tell me, with WHOM are you working for? " he spoke watching intently.

"I'm not going to tell unless you tell me about yourself first." you retaliated.

"oh well, suit yourself." he pointed the gun & pulled the trigger.

your eyes we're closed shut & you were sweating bullets until you realized that you were still alive.

taehyung was chuckling. "oh my, you should've seen your face then, it was priceless i tell you, priceless."

"are you going to kill me?" you asked, clearly shaken.

"oh trust me, he could have" jeongguk interjected "we already knew someone was coming here, we just wanted to have some fun. there are no bullets in that so there wasn't any way to kill you with it. "

"aren't you concerned I'm trying to report about you two? your members of that gang no? "

"haha, no. I can assure you we are just simple, cunning assholes, who like to do frauds, maybe a few scams here & there, but we're not involved in some huge Mafia group."

"do you expect me to believe you?"

"yes, I guess. after all, what else can you do now that you're stuck here?"

"so...what do you want from me then?" you asked.

"like I told you, fun."

"what do you mean exactly? "

"to put it simple, a real fun, hot fuck. we haven't had one of those in a while. sure, you can get a prostitute & we have no problems getting any person that we want, but this, this is much more interesting. " jeongguk said smirking, crossing his arms.

"if you do it, we'll let you go. "taehyung added, fidgeting with the rings on his fingers.

what the hell were you supposed to do in a situation like this? sure, you had been in difficult situations before, but not like this. this....what were you supposed to tell your agency? you were forced into sleeping with two men who were possibly in the mafia? there had to be another way out of it...

"listen, unless you have super powers & can magically weasel yourself out of very tight rope, there's no other way for you to get out of this. " taehyung said almost as if he could read your mind. "so is it a yes?"

you gave a slow nod.

"hmmm, ok great. well, not that you had much of a choice anyway but I promise you won't regret it. " taehyung stated confidently. "jeongguk, untie her."

& he untied you. rubbing your sore wrists, you looked up at the man who untied you. god, he really was good looking.

"so, what now?" you asked slowly standing up.

"we need to know three things." said jeongguk. "one, are you dominant or a sub, or both? two, what is your safe word? I know technically what we are doing isn't legal, but it's no fun if you're uncomfortable and lastly, three. can you take two cocks at once? "

"I'm a switch, & hell, I bet I could take two. for a safe word...." you looked around "gold."

"ok cool, let's get started then." jeongguk said while pushing you onto the bed.

taehyung stood up from the couch & walked over. the two now standing over your smaller frame, like two foxes staring at their prey hungrily.

"you suck on him." said taehyung pointing at jeongguk. "I'll take care of you."

jeongguk started to unfasten his belt & you, still on the bed turned so you were horizontal,in a dog position. only pants down, you palmed him through his boxers. you finally pulled them down & revealed his half hard on. he was in your hand & you gave a few quick strokes & took him in vigorously. he let out a low groan, you could feel him already growing in your mouth & started to move while you were sucking. he put his hand on your head, keeping you at a steady pace. meanwhile, taehyung was behind you, on the other side of the bed, palming your ass. the feeling of the cold rings on his fingers squeezing your flesh made you gasp. he traced his fingers over to your underwear & pulled them to the side. he ghosted over your slit, collecting some of your wetness onto his fingers. gently, he prodded a finger up your pussy. slowly moving it, in & out & added another one. you moaned, vibrating against jeongguk's cock.

"oh shit, do that again." he said head thrown back a bit, holding onto your head tighter.

taehyung inserted another finger; now three fingers were knuckle deep into you. you could hear how wet you were by the way your pussy was squelching. you had muffled moans for jeongguk kept your mouth full. you had difficulty not crumbling under taehyungs touch, his hands working like magic. he pulled out of you & you whined, desperately clenching around nothing.

"pull out." taehyung said to jungkook while licking off his fingers. jungkook nodded. "y/n was it? go put that brat in his place & do not let him touch you. "

taehyung walked over to a piece of furniture, rummaged around a drawer & came back with a blindfold & handcuffs.

"put these on him." taehyung said as he handed you them.

"aw shit really?? why can't I see?" jeongguk whined, giving a little pout & took off his top.

"because you were having a little too much fun over there. plus, you like being a sub anyways."

jeongguk & you went towards the headboard. you snapped on the handcuffs & tied the blind fold on jeongguk "don't worry," you whispered to him, starting to pull off your panties & bra. "I'll take care of you real good." & it sent shivers down his spine.

you positioned him to your entrance & sank down on him. you both moaned in unison , the stretch feeling incredible. his hips had already starting to move; you bounced up & down on him, hips sometimes twirling. you gave attention to his neck & started to lick & give damp kisses.

taehyung felt his hard on press tightly against his pants & started to undress. he went back to the same drawer from before & he brought out a bottle of lube & got onto the bed. he poured a considerable amount of lube onto his fingers & sat behind you. he took to your neck & started leaving kisses & bites on it, causing you to softly moan.

"do you need to be warmed up? or do you think you can handle me now?" he asked against you, stroking his cock in anticipation.

"I mmm think I can take you." you said, moving yourself a little so you were in an angle that he could get inside of you.

"can I have the blindfold off please? I really want to see this." jeongguk said, hips grinding up into yours.

"ok, take it off of him y /n." & you went & did as he said.

taehyung didn't waste any time, he moved his cock over your unoccupied hole,teasing you for a bit, & finally slid in. you moaned out loud, tears starting to form in your eyes. taehyung felt girthier whereas jeongguk was longer, you felt so full & it was wonderful.

"fuck." taehyung groaned against your ear "you're so damn tight." & started to thrust.

you & jeongguk didn't move as much anymore because you both could feel him thrusting into you. taehyung thought he'd take it up a notch & slapped your ass. you moaned out, surprised & had tightened around jeongguk.

"oh my god, I'm gonna cum." he cried out, thighs starting to shake a little.

"I only want you to come when she does. " taehyung said as he thrusted deeper & deeper into you, slapping your ass harder, winning another lovely moan out from you.

taehyung bent over you now & cupped one hand around your tit & the other snaked down to your clit. between the deep penetration in your pussy, the thrusting in your ass, one of taes hands playing with your nipple & the other rubbing circles on your clit, you felt your climax approaching you.

"oh fuck- I'm about to cum." you moaned out, barely able to stay in position, feeling as if you were about to break.

"go then. you can go now too jeongguk." taehyung said, his own thrusts starting to get sloppier.

you clenched around the both of them, moaning out. jeongguk moaned out right after you, finally releasing, shaking beneath you. which triggered a somewhat chain reaction & made taehyung release right after, filling you up to the brim with cum. the three of you rode it all out together. cum was dripping out your pussy & ass, glistening on both of their cocks. you all were panting on top of each other, taehyung pulled out & went to grab some tissues in the drawer of a night stand. you pulled yourself off of jungkook & unchained his hands from the bed. you flopped in the middle of the bed, chest heaving with probably the most fucked out looking face ever. taehyung cleaned the two of you off & then himself, then slid right next to you, eyes starting to close. 

you had no idea how long you slept for, but you could see that it was still light out. then you remembered you were supposed to let seulgi know if the two were suspicious. "shit!" you exclaimed & hurried out of the bed. you picked up your watch from the corner of the room & frantically searched her number to call her. she picked up.

"hello? y/n are you ok?" seulgi asked with concern. "you were off the radar for hours, we were about to send some people over because we weren't get any responses from you."

"oh, no no I'm fine! I think maybe I went offline since I didn't see any incoming messages until now. " you said as you tried to make up something.

"hmmm, that's odd. did you find out anything? "

"sadly no, there's no evidence of their involvement it seems like."

"well then, I'd suggest you leave. we have another place for you to check out. tell me once you're on the road."

"ok." you replied. "I'll talk to you later on." & you hung up.

you went back to the bed & realized taehyung was gone & jeongguk was awake. "you're leaving already?" he asked, with a tinge of disappointment in his voice. he then reached his into the drawer of the nightstand & pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

"yeah. I need to continue working or they'll think something is suspicious. " you said sliding into your pants.

"awe, that sucks. do you want one by the way?" he asked, lighting a cigarette.

"no thanks, I don't really smoke." you said, collecting all your stuff & putting it onto the bed.

"well, do you want some red wine maybe?"

you paused. "sure." & sat down next to him, taking the glass of wine he had on top of the nightstand.

"by the way, you were amazing. I don't think I've had that much fun in a good while. " he looked at you with his pretty round eyes, releasing a bit of smoke out of his mouth.

"thank you. I don't think I've ever had that much fun before, ever." you replied taking a sip of the wine. "especially with someone rumored to be in the mafia."

"yeah, pretty crazy isn't it? I don't think you expected any of this at all." he smiled. "we need to do this again, if you're up to it."

"I think I would be." giving him a little smirk. "it's not everyday you find two incredibly hot guys willing to be fuck buddies. I might have to fly back to San Francisco just to fuck. "

you heard footsteps approaching the room & finally saw taehyung, standing in the door way in a cream colored robe with a glass of red wine in his hand.

"so, you're finally awake." he said coming into the room. "how was it?"

"I liked it very much. I just told jeongguk I'll fly back to San Francisco just to fuck you guys." you giggled.

taehyung laughed, getting into the bed with you two. " I hope that is true because I'd love to do this again sometime. " wrapping an arm around you.

"definitely. I have to go now though." you said disappointedly. "I'm expected to continue working."

"hmmm, that's a shame." taehyung said sipping his wine. " I need to give you me & jeongguk's number."

"sure." you two exchanged numbers. "well, I've got to go sadly; wish I could stay longer. today was very enjoyable." you said, buttoning up your blazer.

before you walked out, jeongguk called to you "I hope you can come back! " he said, him & taehyung smirking. you smirked back, waved at them & left.

[xiyao-feels]

So, this started off as a shipping bingo for MDZS nie//lan; I've added the bingo meme above so that you know what you're getting into. What it evolved into, however, is several thousand words of close reading of the NMJ+LXC relationship, getting some into the 3//zun dynamics and comparing it with LXC and JGY's relationship to help demonstrate my point. If that sounds interesting to you, read away! Fair warning: as you might gather from the bingo above I am not very gentle, not only on the idea of a romantic relationship but also on their friendship.

Originally, I imagined I'd be saying something like, while of course they were very good friends and LXC grieves for NMJ, there's no evidence of romantic interest. But I wanted to look over the scenes first, to get a handle on them properly and to pick out some quotes; and what I found, when I looked at it closely, startled me—I couldn't believe how little there actually was.

My methodology for this review, by the way: I searched the entire text for every variation on their name I could think of, and then read over the chapter for chapters they were both mentioned in. I also reviewed chapters where only one of them is mentioned (that's how I caught the reference in ch 16, where NMJ is only referred to as NHS' brother). I might have missed something, or I might have read it and not registered it, etc etc. I definitely don't have JGY's memory XP But I've done my best to be thorough.

Also, a heads up: while I've done a little bit of addressing NMJ's emotions, this is mostly focused on what LXC feels, because otherwise this would be even more ridiculously long and because that's where my interest lies.

I'll state my conclusions up front, in case you just want to know what I think and not have to wade through [mumble] thousand words to get there. But it's far enough off from even the standard non-shippy take on their relationship that I really did think it was worth walking through the evidence.

It seems to me that while NMJ and LXC were to some extent close before the war, they grew apart during the war and very much so afterwards. There are a few moments that suggest NMJ might feel unusually tender towards LXC, there is nothing similar on LXC's part, and frankly their post-Sunshot interactions that we see suggest that—while LXC certainly cares about him—he does not at all feel close to him.

Moreover, his personal grief for NMJ's death, and whatever personal betrayal he may feel about JGY killing his, LXC's, friend, are not the drivers of his emotional difficulties with respect to JGY.

Okay, now the evidence. This has been divided up into two parts, NMJ alive and NMJ dead.

Pt I: NMJ alive

LXC and NMJ were friends before Sunshot; while we don't have a lot of evidence to guess how close they were, we can certainly see signs of long familiarity with each other in their later interactions, and it's worth noting that we don't see either of them having other friends beyond, in LXC's case, JGY.*

*NMJ got along with his subordinate MY very well, but except for one incident it was purely in the context of a superior/subordinate relationship, and he does not seem to have been interested in MY as a person, so I'm not classing them as friends.

Nevertheless, during Sunshot, we can see LXC begin to grow apart from him, and in their post-Sunshot interactions they start not very close and end up quite distant. By the time if NMJ's death, it's clear that while LXC cares about him, he is not emotionally close to him at all.

A brief discussion of NMJ's feelings, before I spend most of the rest of the post focusing on LXC's. As I mentioned above, LXC seems to be NMJ's only friend, and he does react to him in ways he doesn't really seem to anyone else. In the teacups scene, for example, we're told that "while Nie MingJue had never been one for humor," nevertheless "in front of Lan XiChen, his expression eased." Later, towards the end of the stairs incident, LXC is able to dissuade him from immediately pursuing JGY's death, which I believe is as much as we see anyone ever do with NMJ's anger. Finally, in ch 46, when LXC and LWJ are playing music to deal with NMJ's headless corpse, WWX thinks that NMJ might particularly be responding to LXC playing Liebing: "Wei WuXian didn’t know if it was only his imagination, but as soon as the soft, serene tone of the xiao appeared, the corpse’s movement paused. For a moment, he seemed to have stood still and listened, then turned around, as though he wanted to see who was the one playing the music."

If you wanted to say that NMJ has romantic or quasi-romantic feelings about LXC, then I don't think that would be an unreasonable extrapolation from the text, although I also don't think it's a necessary one; friendship and minor romantic feelings are I think pretty much equally fair readings.

Even so, LXC is not his priority; rather, he prioritizes NHS and (probably not unrelatedly) JGY's moral rectitude. In Ch  48, the friendly 3zun conversation only happens because NMJ was seeking LXC out to bring him NHS' saber, which he'd left behind, and when he qi deviates it's NHS and not LXC who manages to bring him some calm just before he dies, and whose features he can recognize (ch 50). At the Phoenix Mountain Hunt (ch 69-70), we see no sign that either he or LXC sought each other out, and on those occasions we do see NMJ initiate discussion with LXC it's usually about JGY's moral rectitude (ch 73, his sarcastic remark about JGY's hard work after the conference about WWX; ch 49, his interjection during the guqin scene; ch 49, the beginning of the stairs incident). 

And what about what LXC feels? Let's take a close look at the progression of their relationship.

In chapter 16, when NHS is studying at Cloud Recesses, we see LXC run into him and convey NMJ's query into his studies, having apparently recently returned from Qinghe. While he doesn't say what he was doing there, it seems reasonable to infer that he was either visiting NMJ or at least visited him while he was there. (ETA: NHS also hopes that LXC will put in some good words for him to NMJ, which also suggests that he expects they'll be in contact.) This establishes a baseline of closeness from before the war, however much they drift apart during and after. However, we never see any of their interactions before the war, or anything else about their relationship; this is all we get.

The high point of the NMJ and LXC interactions that we see on page happen during Sunshot, where we see them have three conversations (all in ch 48). High point, however, is a relative phrase. In order, there's the teacups scene; there's their conversation (including MY) after NMJ agrees to release MY from his service, with a recommendation letter no less; and there's their conversation where NMJ recounts what happened with MY in Langya.

Let's start with the teacups scene. NMJ and LXC do talk, but it's part of a group conversation with other cultivators—at least three and as many as six of whom we see interject,* one of whom is another sect leader—and it seems mostly about practical or immediate matters. The exchange on the page isn't long and "Soon afterward, Lan XiChen and the rest stood up" and are led to their resting areas by MY. Moreover, interestingly, it's NMJ who asks all the questions; LXC answers him, but doesn't ask him questions in turn, or comment on his situation. 

*there are two separate occasions where there cultivators per chime in

(Note also that the focus of the conversation suggests that NMJ and LXC aren't communicating extensively through letters or anything, as does LXC not knowing MY is NMJ's deputy. I don't think this is hugely significant, given that there's a war on and presumably they don't want information leaking everywhere and LXC doesn't seem to have a fixed address, but it does seem worth noting—as does the implication, perhaps more significant, that LXC only stops at Hejian when he's escorting other cultivators: "Everytime Lan XiChen passed Hejian as he was escorting other cultivators, he would rest shortly[.]")

NMJ and LXC's conversation in the teacups scene stands in really stark contrast to the conversation between LXC and MY that NMJ is about to overhear. That conversation is very much private; it's in LXC's private resting area, and MY is sitting in the presence of Zewu-Jun. The conversation is sort of about the war, but really only as it relates to MY's dream of "earn[ing] a proper place in the LanlingJin Sect" and "receiv[ing] the approval of [his] father." The very first thing we hear LXC say is a comment on MY's situation ("What a coincidence. You joined MingJue-xiong’s force and became his deputy")! He is of course going to go on to raise the possibility of MY going to Langya (to serve his father), and independently volunteer to talk to NMJ if NMJ isn't willing to let MY go. And even after NMJ joins them, some things are kept private between LXC and MY; when he asks them how they know each other, LXC refuses to answer, and then when he asks MY to answer as LXC will not, MY also refuses him, since LXC doesn't want it spoken.

The two conversations are simply very different, in a way that suggests a strong contrast between LXC's feelings for and interest in NMJ and LXC's feelings for and interest in MY. It's also worth noting, as I mentioned above, that it seems that NMJ sought LXC out because he was bringing LXC NHS' sabre, so LXC can bring it on to NHS. 

Now, let's look at the conversation the three of them have after NMJ volunteers to give MY a letter of recommendation and send him to serve his father in Langya. This conversation is, I think, the high point of the interactions they have that we actually see. LXC expresses a positive evaluation of NMJ: "Look, I told you that MingJue-xiong would respect your decision." He smiles at NHS' sabre, and responds directly to NMJ. And then of course there's this famous paragraph:

The three chatted back and forth, at times serious, yet at times light. The conversation was much more relaxed than when they had been in the living room. Listening to their chatter, Wei WuXian often wanted to get a word in as well, yet he was unable to do so.

That said...well. Again, there's nothing about anything here that suggests romance, and if you look at the reasons I give for it being the high point, that's not actually very high. As to the paragraph—again, I do think they're friends! But I think it's also noteworthy that the easiest conversation we see/hear about them having is one that is early in the war,* and where MY is also present, and one where NMJ has just done something good for MY.

*MY is noted as having joined the Nie forces "right after" Sunshot begins, and to have been promoted to NMJ's deputy after not many interactions; LXC also seems surprised at least by MY being NMJ's deputy, which suggests that he hasn't stopped there before while this was the case, and he comes by in the paragraph immediately after MY is promoted. Finally, after MY vanishes after his confrontation with NMJ in Langya, we're told that "during the next few years" no traces could be found of him. All taken together, this suggests to me that MY was NMJ's deputy for 1-2 months early in the war, and the conversation of course takes place at the very end of that period

(As ever, I recommend confusion-and-more's close reading of the second scene, here.)

The next interaction that's mentioned in the text is after MY tricks and immobilizes NMJ and flees, when NMJ describes what happened with him to LXC. I think it's worth noting exactly how the exchange is introduced:

Even when Lan XiChen had the time to assist Langya, a few days later, his anger hadn’t died down one bit. As soon as he came, Lan XiChen laughed, “MingJue-xiong, what a temper you seem to be in. Where is Meng Yao? Why does he not come and douse your flames?”

"As soon as he came," note! It seems to be literally the first thing LXC says. And while it is a comment on NMJ's state, its primary function seems to be as a lead-in to asking about the state/whereabouts of MY. Their exchange as the text shows us is /entirely/ about MY, and he's clearly the focus of LXC's interest. We also have this from LXC, which I think is interesting as it shows the contrast between his morality and NMJ's:

"Judging from his words, the person whom he killed had definitely done wrong. However, he should not have taken his life either. We are in harsh times, so it is quite difficult to determine who was at fault."

Their next interaction is in chapter 49, LXC defending MY from NMJ post Sun Palace—and I don't just mean verbally, he's defending against Baxia with an unsheathed Shuoyue through this whole conversation. At this point, he still has some faith in NMJ's ability to act rationally towards MY, as he asks MY if MY hadn't told NMJ about his being the spy, and NMJ displays familiarity with LXC, knowing that he rarely interrupted people. I'll note that unlike in CQL, LXC does not seem particularly angry at this point—MDZS LXC is almost never angry, including at multiple points where CQL LXC /is/—but overall it's hardly an example of particular closeness, and we see that LXC's morality continues to differ from NMJ's: "MingJue-xiong," he says of MY, "he was undercover in Qishan, and sometimes there would be some things that… could not have been helped." 

Later in the chapter, just before the Flower Banquet, it's mentioned (possibly as inference from WWX) that LXC brought up the sworn brotherhood to NMJ, "having always hoped that the two [NMJ and JGY] would reconcile." Obviously we can infer things about their closeness from the fact that LXC does in fact swear brotherhood with NMJ, but we have no direct textual statement as to why he wanted to swear /himself/ to NMJ, be that personal or political or both.

Next comes the Flower Banquet. NMJ seeks JGY out, first, for his usual concerns with JGY's moral rectitude. Shortly after, LWJ and LXC come over; shortly after that, JC and WWX come over, though they soon move on. There are two things I want to note here. First, it's the only time we see LXC seek NMJ out (and one of only two times we see one of them seek the other out—the other will be in ch 73, after the conference about WWX, when NMJ comes over to him and JGY talking). Second, this is the only time we see LXC respond to NMJ verbally post-Sunshot in a way that isn't about defending someone, either JGY (the usual case) or WQ (at the conference in ch 73)—although it is to some degree a defense of WWX, and it's not quite directly in reply to NMJ, as NMJ and LWJ have a brief exchange on the subject first. These positive signs will not occur again, and I think it's significant that this is the earliest post-Sunshot scene we see.

The next scene for this analysis (chronologically speaking; it's in an entirely different chapter) is the Phoenix Mountain Hunt. Although we see NMJ and LXC arrive to the hunt in ch 69, NMJ arrives after the Twin Jades have started slowly riding into the distance and we don't actually see them interact at all; nor do we see them together in ch 70, the rest of the hunt. Moreover, there doesn't really seem to be any suggestion that they /did/ interact. When JGY says he's not sure if he'll be able to expand the hunting ground in two hours, LXC asks him why, instead of saying something like "oh right da-ge was doing all that hunting too." Moreover, when JGY answers him ("not only did Young Master Wei keep a third of the prey to himself, our eldest brother has eliminated over half of the fays and the monsters as well"), LXC's response doesn't indicate that he saw NMJ earlier, or knew what he was doing, though it does suggest a general familiarity with Nie Mingjue's character: 'Hearing this, Lan XiChen laughed, “That is how Brother is like, after all.”' 

Now, this hardly rules out the idea that they had any interaction, but I think it at least suggests they didn't have any significant interaction, or any interaction after the hunt began. This is in contrast (again!) to his relationship with JGY—he was with him earlier for who knows how long, as they arrive on the scene together, and after this is going to go help expand the hunting grounds. They do have LWJ with them for this last, but he's helping them at LXC's request, and the framing of that request is very—well: "WangJi, should we leave, or would you like to help as well?" So LWJ can come help them, but if he doesn't want to, LXC is simply going to go off with JGY again.

If the Flower Banquet was the high point of their actual interactions on the page, post-Sunshot, then this is I think the most purely emotionally positive we see LXC feel about NMJ post-Sunshot. Significantly, it's based on an apparently older familiarity, and it's when they don't seem to have interacted recently and NMJ isn't even on the page.

The next scene they're in together, again chronologically, is in chapter 73. They're seated together in the first row, but that's explicitly because of their status, and they're grouped with LWJ and JC: "In the front row sat sect leaders and famed cultivators like Nie MingJue, Jiang Cheng, Lan XiChen, and Lan WangJi." During the conference, they have a brief conflict about WQ's culpability, which LXC leaves off explicitly because he's familiar with NMJ's hatred for the Wen. After the conference, we're told "the Venerated Trio gathered," but what this looks like in practice is LXC and JGY talking together and then NMJ coming over. LXC observed that JGY has worked hard, JGY is amused by the destruction JC wrought on his table, and then NMJ interrupts with a negative comment about JGY*: "All clever talk—hard work indeed." LXC smiles but doesn't reply. JGY tries to change the subject by asking LXC where LWJ is, and LXC gestures to the front, where LWJ and Mianmian are finishing up their conversation. NMJ compliments Mianmian, and JGY agrees. That's the end of the scene. I noted for the Flower Banquet that that scene unusually involves LXC replying verbally to NMJ in a way that isn't /just/ about defending someone; here, LXC does not speak a single word after NMJ joins them.

*In the interests of not being unfair I will note that NMJ did observe JGY lie; this doesn't really matter to the NMJ-LXC stuff except that it's a lie that LXC would also have noticed, as it involved contradicting LWJ.

NMJ and LXC are once again in the same scene in ch 78, for the swearing ceremony, and even speak one after the other. However, they don't seem to interact in any way, and their speech seems to be an important sect leader thing; we're told of their responses to JGS' toast, and then JC is explicitly contrasted in not speaking: 

Nie MingJue, “May their souls live on.”

Lan XiChen, “Rest in peace.”

Jiang Cheng, however, still had on a darkened expression. He didn’t say anything even after he poured the wine.

Now we're back in the Empathy chapters, after a not insignificant gap: the next scene is the guqin scene, in chapter 49. Although LXC is playing guqin in the Unclean Realm, and is going to offer to teach JGY the Song of Clarity which he can use on NMJ, LXC and NMJ barely interact at all—they only have one very brief exchange, where NMJ objects to LXC teaching JGY the SoC (because it's leaking Lan techniques), LXC defends his decision, and NMJ realizes he's not going to change his mind so he doesn't say anything. Again, in contrast, LXC is very focused on JGY, asking him questions about his background, complimenting his playing, and independently offering to help him improve his guqin and even teach him an "exclusive teaching" of the Lan! The contrast is very noticeable.

A little after this, it's revealed that LXC left a guqin at the UR, apparently for JGY to use to play the SoC to NMJ. This is ostensibly because he is busy with the rebuilding of CR, although WWX speculates that this is just an excuse and that he "simply wanted to give Nie MingJue and Jin GuangYao a chance to ease their tension."

In chapter 30, it's revealed that at a Discussion Conference in the past, NMJ (who we are told otherwise would not have shown up, note, although it would have been an opportunity to see LXC) confronts the Jin about their refusal to sentence XY to death. He draws his sabre with the intent of killing XY, and gives JGY "a harsh scolding," causing JGY to "hid[e] behind Lan XiChen, not daring to say anything else." It seems likely that LXC defends JGY and/or helps to calm NMJ down, although nevertheless the Jin Sect has to (temporarily) give in on the matter of XY's death sentence; nothing about any further interaction they may have is noted.

Their next interaction is at the stairs incident, back in chapter 49. NMJ charges in on LXC and JGY, who are discussing the watchtower plans together, and tells LXC to stay there and JGY to come out with him. LXC's "face disclose[s] his worry," but JGY stops him and follows NMJ out. Some time later, LXC shows up at the conflict, coming to see what's happening, "concerned after having waited for long." He manages to calm NMJ down and prevent him from further trying to kill JGY, by talking about the work JGY has put in with the Song of Clarity, pointing out that he really is in a terrible situation, and urging NMJ to give him more time. Nothing he says particularly suggests that he feels close to NMJ; if anything, he seems kind of in denial about just how much NMJ is set against JGY.

Finally, there is their last interaction, just before NMJ's death. LXC is defending—well, not so much NMJ as the idea that NMJ hasn't rejected JGY completely, to JGY. His arguments are as follows: NMJ chose to become sworn brothers with JGY, which means he approves of JGY; when NMJ included in the oath stuff about "face a thousand accusing fingers, be torn from limb to limb," and so forth, he /also/ included "if one were to think otherwise," and since JGY doesn't think otherwise, he doesn't need to worry about it too much; that NMJ has always cherished JGY's talent and hoped he would choose the right path; and finally, that he's really really troubled by the saber spirit, that "[h]is anger was simply too great for him to have thought before speaking," and that JGY must not provoke him again (presumably by talking back, as he did at the stairs). As shining defenses of character go, this... isn't one. Again, he seems like he's kind of in denial about how much NMJ is set against JGY—notably, he didn't see all of the stairs incident, certainly not the part before JGY talked back—but it also doesn't exactly contain a strong positive assessment of NMJ. Forget his defense of JGY to Wangxian: this doesn't even compare to his confidence in NMJ in the conversation NMJ overhears and then joins at the Hejian front.

I realize all this is a lot, so to sum up their post-Sunshot interactions: we only see LXC seek out NMJ once, early post-Sunshot, and that's at a party. The fondest LXC seems of NMJ is one line during the Phoenix Mountain Hunt, when NMJ isn't even on-page. We do not see them spend any time privately together when JGY is not also there, and every time they interact publically JGY is also present at the party or gathering. When we do see them interact, the only time LXC responds verbally directly to NMJ is in defense of someone; if we include his indirect defense of WWX at the Flower Banquet, then that becomes 'the only time we see LXC respond verbally to NMJ at all.'

This is not of course to say that they don't have interactions we don't see. Given the time gaps, they must! But there's nothing about the interactions we *do* see to suggest that the ones we don't are in any way actually emotionally close, certainly not on LXC's part. Again, a contrast with his interactions with JGY is instructive; as with NMJ, we certainly don't see all of their interactions, but what we do see signals their closeness, mutual respect, and tendency to spend time together. 

PT II: NMJ dead

Okay, you say, but wait! What about the depth of his renewed grief after he finds NMJ's body!! What about his deep personal betrayal about JGY killing his close friend!!!

Yes, I say, wild-eyed, having tried to find anything in the text for just that. what /about/ all that.

My problem is, how do I prove a negative? In the chapters with NMJ alive, LXC's presence and his interactions with NMJ are short enough that I could reasonably if lengthily discuss and summarize; that's just not going to work here (there are twelve and a half temple chapters!), not least because some of it is a matter of context or interpretation. So I'm doing two things. First, where we do see him actively upset, I'm going to show you what he seems upset about, and second, I'm going to point out places where we might expect him to react if he's feeling a deep personal grief about NMJ specifically, and instead he does not, or reacts differently.

Let's start with chapter 46, where LXC sees NMJ's moving corpse for the first time. I've seen the idea around that LXC recognized NMJ by his abs, but this doesn't really seem to be the case; it's either the shape of his (headless) body or his saber-fighting movements. Significantly, LWJ also recognizes it at the exact same time: "As they saw the headless shadow, both [LXC and LWJ] paused shortly." LXC's reaction to this recognition is extreme surprise, "almost to the point of shocked," and he takes a bit to resume playing Liebing, joining LWJ on the guqin (to deal with the headless corpse that's going around). 'Shock' is hardly incompatible with immense personal grief, but I will note that in this section he is also not described as anything other than shocked, although it is his first time seeing NMJ's body in ten years. 

In a few paragraphs they deal with the corpse, attacking its energy enough that it falls back into pieces. As WWX seals the pieces back into his qiankun pouch, LXC asks him to wait: he wants to look at the corpse first, and he's described as having an "ashen" complexion. In context, though, both of these things seem to me to be about the likely identity of NMJ's killer, rather than NMJ himself; when LXC says he want to look at the corpse, WWX asks him if he recognizes the corpse, but it's not LXC who replies: "Before Lan XiChen could reply, Lan WangJi already nodded slowly." Moreover, as WWX points out, LWJ has already given LXC all the evidence that points at JGY as the killer—and also, after they do start talking about the identity of the killer, LXC shows no further interest in the corpse. This, from WWX, seems to me to sum up LXC's emotional conflict in this conversation: "Sect Leader Lan, you know who is the most suspicious person. You’re just refusing to admit it." It's not about NMJ being the corpse per se; it's what NMJ being the corpse suggests JGY did. ETA: I look at this scene in more detail here.

(I'll also note that the very first time we see LXC have anything to do with NMJ's corpse, it's in chapter 11, in the context of LWJ asking if LXC is visiting JGY "again" and a paragraph on JGY from WWX which includes the revelation that he and LXC are sworn brothers on the one hand, and LXC talking about LWJ being in good spirits and bringing guests home on the other. Meanwhile, NMJ's arm: 'Lan XiChen spoke, “Uncle has taken and examined what you brought back from Mo Village.”'

Now obviously we can't infer LXC's feelings about NMJ from this directly, given that he doesn't know it's NMJ's arm at the time, but it's certainly textually suggestive, and it very much fits in with a pattern of LXC prioritizing JGY and LWJ.)

That's most of the end of chapter 46; the next chapter has LXC, LWJ, and WWX going to the discussion conference at Carp Tower. Again, it's kind of hard to prove a negative, and LXC's reactions aren't really described at great length (though he does of course greet JGY with a smile); the only thing that seems unusual is that he seems "absent-minded." 

Chapters 48 and 49, and part of 50, are the Empathy chapters. After WWX escapes from the flashback and returns to LWJ, he and LWJ start causing a ruckus trying to get into JGY's bedchamber (to get to his secret room). An audience is attracted, including LXC. Taking a cue from LWJ, he pressures his way into the treasure room; he seems relieved when NMJ's head isn't behind the curtain WWX lifts. He has—well, he certainly has a few emotional reactions, but at no point does he seem driven by grief over NMJ instead of uncertainty about JGY. At one point he "nod[s] heavily" to confirm to NHS that he's talking about NMJ. Or consider this exchange:

Jin GuangYao’s eyes still held tears, but appeared as if they were red with anger. He clenched his hands into fists and shouted with both grief and resentment, “Dismembered… Dismembered! Who in this world could’ve done such an insane act?!”

Lan XiChen shook his head, “I do not know. When we were searching for the head, the clues disappeared.”

Now obviously JGY is acting—but he's acting the role of someone who /is/ personally mourning NMJ, and he's showing more anger than LXC ever does about it. Now—to be fair, MDZS LXC gets angry even less than CQL LXC, who is hardly an angry person. But there are a few times we do see him angry—certain moments confronting JGY in the temple, in the temple courtyard when he's angry at WWX for how he's treated LWJ—and what happens to NMJ's body, never mind the fact of the death itself, doesn't seem to make the list.

In chapter 63, WWX wakes up in CR, having been recovering for four days. In this chapter and the next two, LXC becomes increasingly distressed as they discover the Song of Turmoil and the evidence seems to weigh against Jin Guangyao, enough that it's not really feasible to review every instance of it. Nevertheless, there are a couple of parts I think it's worth looking at directly.

In chapter 64, we get something extremely valuable: LXC's statement of his own emotional quandary.

Lan XiChen supported his head on his hand. His voice was low, as though he was trying to hold something back, “WangJi, the version of Jin GuangYao that I know is entirely different compared to the version that you know and the version that the world knows! Throughout all these years, in my eyes, he has always been… enduring his suffer, caring for all people, treating everyone with respect. I have always believed, without a doubt, that the criticism he received from others all came from misunderstandings, that what I knew how he truly is. Now, you want me to believe, at once, that everything about this person is fake, that he planned to kill one of his sworn brothers, that I was also a part of his plan and even helped him… Could you please allow me some more discretion before I make my own judgement?”

So, what is he distressed by here? It's quite clearly the idea that he /doesn't/ know JGY, that the JGY he knows is fake, a falsehood, and relatedly that their relationship is not as he understands it ("that I was also a part of his plan and even helped him"). JGY killing NMJ is obviously what inspires this crisis, but it's not at all what's centered in his speech here, and even the half-sentence mention that it gets doesn't frame it at all in terms of NMJ's relationship to LXC. "He planned to kill one of his sworn brothers," he says, not "our sworn brother" or "my sworn brother" or even "my friend." 

(The paragraph immediately following reads to me more like WWX's conclusions than narrative certainty, but either way, it's not about his personal relationship with NMJ: "Lan XiChen had taught Jin GuangYao the Song of Clarity, keeping in mind the grudge between Jin GuangYao and Nie MingJue, hoping that they could be how they used to be. He requested Jin GuangYao to help calm Nie MingJue in place of him. Who would’ve known that his kindness made possible Jin GuangYao’s cruelty? How should he face himself now?") 

Later in the chapter, there's the famous section where he tells WWX about his and LWJ's parents' story. I do think part of this is about telling WWX something about LWJ (although not that LWJ has feelings for him, which MDZS LXC thinks he already knows), but it's also pretty transparently about his own uncertainty re: JGY.

He paused before speaking again, “Young Master Wei, can you understand why he did such a thing?”

Wei WuXian answered after a moment of silence, “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.”

Lan XiChen, “Do you think that this was right?”

Wei WuXian, “I don’t know.”

Lan XiChen looked somewhat lost, “Then, what do you think would be right?”

Wei WuXian, “I don’t know.”

A while later, [Lan Xichen speaks again, in a whisper]

He spoke, “Madam Lan must’ve been a very gentle woman.”

Lan XiChen, “In my memories, Mother had indeed been so. I do not know why she did such a thing back then. And, in truth, I…”

He took in a deep breath before confessing, “Do not want to know either.”

It's not what you might call subtle.

But it's also worth noting, I think, exactly what LXC focuses on telling the story. It was one of his father's teachers that his mother killed—and while that is absolutely a very important position, and obviously would have mattered and indeed did matter to QHJ a great deal—that's literally all the information we get about him, that he was QHJ's teacher. He lingers on why QHJ did what he did, and whether it was the right thing; he talks about the crime his mother committed, and his response to that. He does not focus at all on the teacher, the clear NMJ-analogue in this scenario. He's not QHJ's beloved teacher, or his favourite teacher, or anything like that—he's not even just "his teacher," he's "one of his teachers." And maybe that's all the information he has about him, but he doesn't linger on that question either! Again, there's nothing here to suggest that his conflict is about his personal connection with NMJ.

ETA: I actually missed something here. Thanks to some critique in the notes (and which I discuss more extensively in the post linked at the bottom of the page), I looked at the Chinese here, and the word LXC uses for teacher is 恩师, which Pleco gives me as “mentor; one’s kind and respected master (or teacher).” So on the one hand, that's not nothing. On the other hand, the point remains that it's only one word, LXC isn't adding lots of adjectives on to describe the teacher, and as I mentioned in the previous paragraph, simply doesn't linger on the teacher in his conversation with WWX; the focus is elsewhere. I think the point as a whole stands.

Now to the temple chapters. I think it's fairly well-known, at this point, that he doesn't bring up NMJ to JGY in the temple chapters, but I'm going to point it out again—he doesn't bring up NMJ to JGY in the temple chapters! And this is, I feel, even more significant in MDZS, where he's seen NMJ's fierce corpse. That said, there are a few instances where he reacts to NMJ/NMJ's corpse; I'm going to look at all of them.

First of all, in ch 104 when WWX says "Looks like being called the son of a prostitute is really Sect Leader Jin’s weak spot. No wonder you killed ChiFeng-Zun," we're told that "With the mention of Nie MingJue, Lan XiChen’s expression changed." No further details are provided; we don't know what it changes into, and the only hint we have as to what it changes /from/ is that LXC's last described reaction, only two paragraphs previous, was calling "Sect Leader Jin" because he knew JGY was about to fuck with JC. Also interestingly, LXC does /not/ have any reaction described when JGY and JC have the "isn't it hard being your shixiong/isn't it even harder being your sworn brother" exchange, earlier in chapter 101. Perhaps his reaction is simply not noted by the text—it seems unlikely he has literally zero reaction to it—but if we're looking for a difference, it seems like it's either the explicit reference to killing NMJ, or the reminder of NMJ calling JGY the son of a prostitute.

Second, there's the moment NMJ('s fierce corpse) shows up (ch 106). He, JGY, and NHS all say "Brother."  JGY and LXC's responses are one paragraph after the other, and the punctuation is the same: "… Brother."* Meanwhile, NHS reacts first, a few paragraphs earlier, and he cries out, "Brother!!!" We're told that "[their] three tones were drastically different," which is interesting as well. NHS seems in the grip of some strong, active emotion—excitement? grief? We're explicitly told that JGY is scared. Whatever LXC's tone is, it's hard to say—but it's not like NHS'.

*(In the original text it looks like LXC's is "…Brother." and JGY's is "…Brother...", but either way they're significantly more similar to each other's than either is to NHS'.)

Thirdly and finally, when the Jin cultivators are fighting NMJ's corpse (ch 107), NHS peers out from behind LXC's back and calls out to NMJ ("both frightened and eager"), leading NMJ to charge at them. LXC stops him by playing Liebing, then then tries to get him to recognize identifying NHS ("Brother, this is Huaisang!"); the latter unfortunately does not work, NMJ being totally overcome by resentful energy. This section does actually have some evidence of grief: when he plays Liebing, it's described as "with a sob of Liebing."

He'll continue to try and deal with NMJ's corpse, notably with LWJ and WWX, but those three moments are the only times he reacts to NMJ (as NMJ, as opposed to as a fierce corpse that needs to be dealt with). That's not a lot, and each moment is very brief, not to mention fairly ambiguous about LXC's emotional reaction. If he /was/ being driven by his grief for NMJ's death, you would think we'd see more of it.

Furthermore, there's one moment I think it's important to pull out as explicitly not about NMJ. LXC tells JGY (and had told him previously) not to call LXC er-ge, /not/ because he killed da-ge (which you might expect!) but because of the second siege: “Sect Leader Jin, I have already said, when you went your own way to scheme such havoc at Burial Mound, that there was no longer the need to call me ‘Brother.’” 

Now, to be clear, it's not that LXC's reactions to things just aren't described in the temple sequence in general. Obviously we see him react when he's telling LWJ about WWX's feelings, but even beyond that, even when he's occupying a more background role in the narrative, we're given his reaction quite a few times. He sighs when LWJ seals his spiritual powers (ch 100); he tends to NHS, covering with his outer robe (ch 102), comforting him when he's disturbed at the sight of the coffin (ch 103), protecting him from SMS (after NHS frames him for stabbing him, ch. 107) and from NMJ (ch 107), and comforting him and giving him pain medicine about the wound in his leg (ch 108); along with LWJ, he's distressed by the sound of JC's sword-scraping technique against JGY's music (ch 101); he tries to warn JC a couple of times when JC is fighting JGY (ch 101), cautions JL (ch 101) and later JC (ch 102) about worsening JC's injuries, and along with JL, WWX, and LWJ freezes when JC slaps JL to the ground (ch 102); he asks Minshan why he's being rude to LWJ, and a little later, with SMS and JL, pauses in astonishment when LWJ laughs (ch 100); he averts his gaze from and seems perhaps embarassed by the ghosts that WWX summons (ch 104); he calls out to WWX to remind him that his current body is closely related to JGY, and will therefore attract NMJ's fierce corpse (ch 107). He actually has a couple of entertaining reactions to Wangxian being Wangxian: he coughs and tells WWX it is maybe not the best time and place for this when WWX is about to repeat "I really wanted to sleep with you," and then later he and Jin Ling inexplicably! move their sitting cushions far away from Wangxian's and gaze into the distance (ch 100).

And more than anything else—in what I think is a very instructive contrast—he reacts to JGY, in a way that reflects an ongoing continual emotional investment. He is, quite notably, consistently worried about JGY and unable to stand the sight of him in pain, even when he thinks he shouldn't be. When the coffin trap goes off, and they overhear Jin cultivators wailing and a pungent smoke emerges, there's worry in LXC's eyes; after JGY and Minshan make it out, and JGY takes some medicine against the poison, LXC hesitates for a moment and then asks what happened (ch 103). After LWJ cuts JGY's hand off—which means /after/ he's taken JL hostage, note—LXC "seemed as though he wanted to help him for an instant," though "in the end he dared not" (ch 106). When Minshan asks him for medicine for JGY, seeing how terrible JGY looks, he hesitates slightly before they're interrupted by NMJ's success fighting the Jin cultivators (ch 107). After they've defeated NMJ, he treats JGY's wrist; moreover, "Seeing that Jin GuangYao almost passed out from the pain, Lan XiChen, who in the beginning wanted to use this to punish him, still didn’t have the heart to bear it," and goes for the pain-relief medicine from NHS. And this is all not even accounting for his reactions to JGY either during his questioning of JGY or post-stabbing!

And what about when he's distressed by JGY? When he's reacting with upset or anger? There seem to be two consistent threads: first, that JGY did awful things/hurt people /not/ under constraint, and second, the idea that he doesn't know JGY after all and their relationship was a lie. 

For the first, he calls out Sect Leader Jin when JGY starts in on JC after JC calls him the son of a prostitute (ch 104), although notably he does not do the same in their earlier confrontation when JGY is distracting JC in order to defeat him, only warning JC (ch 101); when JGY confesses to having burned down the brothel, he's distressed when JGY says that it wasn't entirely to remove the traces (ch 105); he becomes /less/ angry about the second siege and about QS when it turns out that he was operating under constraint in those conditions (ch 106); and of course, the thing he's angriest about is JGY killing his father, "and even in such a way" (ch 106). In ch 103, looking down at the coffin he is shocked that JGY buried something that caused such horror to its surroundings, but without further information about JGY's reasons this does not metamorphose into anger.

For the second, when WWX him asks why there's no light shining from Shuoyue, he tells him "It's quite a shame," and that he "was fooled by lies" and had his cultivation sealed (ch 99); when JGY assures him that he'll let him and NHS go without harm when the time comes, he asks if he should believe him (ch 100); when JGY asks if LXC isn't going to ask him /why/ he set the fire (since it wasn't entirely to erace the traces), we have this important excerpt (ch 105):

“In the past, it was not that I did not know what you did, but that I believed you had your reasons behind doing them.”

He continued, “But, you have done too much. And I… no longer know if I should believe you.”

Fatigue and disappointment sunk heavily into his tone.

And then after JGY takes JL hostage (ch 106), this one:

Lan XiChen spoke slowly, “Sect Leader Jin, you lied again.”

Jin GuangYao, “Just this once. There’ll be no next time.”

Lan XiChen, “This was what you said last time. I can no longer tell which of your words are true.”

LXC asks him about the letter in the first place because "whenever he heard there might be hiddenmight hidden reasons, he just had to hear it" (ch 105); when WWX challenges him before he tends to JGY's wounds, he says "Many things still remain unanswered" (ch 108).

His upset at JGY "attacking" him is in ch 108, I think, a combination of the two—in CQL, it reads more like he's angry that JGY took an action that made him need to attack JGY than anything else, but in MDZS he experiences it as a real betrayal: "As he saw Nie HuaiSang’s expression along with the warning, he felt something in his heart go cold." Because it would have been one; it's a line that JGY hasn't crossed, and as it turns out it's a line that JGY hadn't crossed, and would never.

And lastly, after JGY's death, we have once again LXC's explicit statement of his difficulties—and while LXC's post-stabbing difficulties could be different from his pre-stabbing ones, it's at least an important consideration, and it is in line with the rest of what we see:

“… Just what does he want to do? I once thought I knew him well, and then I realized I did not. Before tonight, I thought I knew him well once more, but now I do not.” Nobody could give him an answer. Lan XiChen repeated in frustration, “Just what does he want to do?”

Looking over the evidence, he's hurt and angry that JGY would do awful things not under constraint, and about the idea that he doesn't know JGY after all/their relationship is a lie. I do think it's unlikely that he's zero percent upset about JGY contributing to NMJ's death—I tend to think they talked about if offscreen, between LXC leaving with him from Gusu and WWX finding them in the temple, and that's why LXC doesn't bring him up in the temple sequence. But whatever he's feeling, his reactions to JGY don't seem to be about his own personal grief for or relationship with NMJ, and if they /had/ been about that I think there's several moments in the temple that would have played out differently.

One last note: I see often the idea that LXC going into seclusion after JGY's death is for his grief about /both/ his sworn brothers. At this point, you're probably unsurprised to learn that I don't think the evidence supports this. Not only, again, do we have very little evidence of his personal grief for NMJ post-timeskip—ten years past NMJ's death!—even after NMJ shows up again, but there's a distinct change in him after JGY dies. Before that, he's obviously distressed, but he's still tracking and on top of things; afterwards, on the other hand, we're told that "If it were the usual ZeWu-Jun, he couldn’t have failed to fathom [what WWX was suggesting the letter be intended to cause]. But right now, it was likely he had no more space in his mind to think" (ch 109), which tracks pretty well with his absent-mindedness at the banquet a few months down the line (ch 116). Nothing about LWJ's discussion with WWX of LXC's state suggests it's at all precedented (ch 115), and in fact when LQR talks to him immediately after JGY dies, we're told that "Lan XiChen’s face was full of an unspeakable grief" and that "Lan QiRen had never seen Lan XiChen, a child he single-handedly brought up, look so agitated and discomposed" (ch 110). JGY's death is a breaking point; NMJ's death, at the time or now, simply is not.

In conclusion, while he was certainly friends with NMJ pre-Sunshot, and that is genuinely rare for LXC, they began to grow apart during Sunshot; and while LXC continued to care for NMJ, he was not at all intimate with him, and showed no sign of particularly enjoying or seeking out his company. Later, while he is certainly disturbed at the idea that JGY might have killed NMJ, this is because it suggests that he /doesn't/ know JGY after all, and his reactions to JGY then and at the temple are not driven by his personal grief for or relationship with NMJ, nor is his seclusion in any way related to his feelings for NMJ.

ETA: All quotes taken from the Exiled Rebels translation.

ETA: I discuss some critique of this by @/hqfeels here.

[bigskydreaming]

am I the only one who's a little uncomfortable with the way they brought back dickbabs after all the Ric bullshit and the shit they made her say after? like...I know we didn't get a lot of dickkory interaction in reference to the shooting, but the one panel where he mentions it in passing to kory and they show her getting angry/protective of him in an instant speaks volumes to me over the repeated uh..."you can't be happy if you're not the Real You/it's Your Fault for not remembering me/how dare YOU leave us behind on PURPOSE when we NEEDED you" stuff they made barbara say which is a weird choice for someone with her characterization and history, but also if you're going to give her that kind of a role in the story, isn't it gross to push dick and babs together afterward like nothing happened? but then again maybe I'm just being unfairly hard on babs, because I haven't seen anyone else of the same opinion - maybe I'm missing some information? thoughts?

Mmm, I get what you're saying but I don't think that's really a Babs thing or a Dickbabs thing in specific. I mean, I had a similar reaction to Tim's part of the story as well, and I think its kinda just an overall annoyance with DC's approach to moving past the Ric Grayson arc while coupled with dissatisfaction in regards to how shit their approach to the arc was in the first place.

Like yeah, I had a lot of gripes with how they had Babs acting throughout that arc, particularly the end, but it was the exact same gripes I had with every single member of Dick's family. And I had the same reaction to Bruce after the arc trying to be like, oh I was there watching the whole time (cough bullshit) and hurriedly trying to move them past talking about all that, and its like I said here with Tim, I mean.

Its a little tricky with Tim because he's Dick's younger brother and who the fuck even KNOWS what age he's supposed to be, but I have a hard time picturing him as much younger than eighteen at this point with as long as he's been around and its like.....I kinda expect the same thing to happen when Jason shows up and even Damian if they bring him in. Like I mean, its that thing where it seems like Taylor and other writers feel they're bridging this gap of how long its been since Dick did stuff like this with Tim and the others, and that they feel like they have the characters all being 'gracious' in like, moving past that quickly and dwelling on how that went down as little as possible?

And I'm just like....no! Stop acting like its for Dick's sake that none of you want to talk about that time or that its his fault that its been so long since there were these close moments. YOU guys were the ones who dropped the ball! Its everyone ELSE who was shit at handling how Dick losing his memories affected HIS life, and even before that, there was a huge chasm between him and the others, and once again, it was because it was every one else who was shit at handling how Dick being kidnapped, tortured, killed, and then shoved off on some secret mission before he even had a full week long to process the trauma of all that and get even close to back to thinking things through rationally, like....affected their lives instead of his.

*Shrugs* Its not a single character or ship, honestly, its just DC. Its just them being shit at judging what kinds of storylines people want for Dick's character, and then when it all blows up in their face, they backpedal furiously and pin it all on Dick's character because he's the one who is most comfortable with accepting blame, which lets everyone 'get past everything' and 'back to normal' quicker than if DC tried to pin the responsibility (and thus the acknowledgment of accountability) on any other character.

I mean, sadly, I can't say that DC has learned nothing over the decades, because they DID learn this move from how Dick and Bruce were written during their estranged years back in the eighties, and how fandom reacted to that. At the time, it was CLEARLY, DEFINITIVELY, WITHOUT A DOUBT....Bruce's fault. It was his responsibility. He was the one who over and over KEPT telling Dick to leave every single time Dick was written sucking up his pride or hurt over what Bruce had said or done initially and going back to the Manor to talk it over with Bruce....and it was always Bruce who KEPT the estrangement going. Just like it was Dick who tried consoling Bruce about Jason's death and Bruce who responded to that by kicking Dick out of his house for good, which in turn meant Dick was the one who had to once again get past all that to even come back and try and help keep Bruce from trying to get himself killed after having just been basically disowned by the guy.

Rinse and repeat, over and over and over. It was always one way. It was always Dick reaching out, it was never Bruce going after Dick to ask him to come home, or to apologize, or to say that things were his fault or that he could have done things differently or that he should have been more mindful of Dick's feelings or not taken him for granted, etc, etc.

And yet, over and over and over....people kept describing that as two-sided. Every single fight between them during that period was one that Bruce unequivocally instigated, that his actions WERE the thing that Dick was REACTING to and which led to these confrontations, and again, it was never once Bruce taking the initiative in repairing their relationship or moving past a confrontation. And yet again....people described this as both of them being at fault.

And the takeaway DC got from all of that was like.....they can always count on it being in character for Dick to just...take it, while people are willing to let it slide or be like "well the characters are just like that" as long as its Bruce, or well, any one that Dick's fighting with basically, who refuses to ever take accountability and be the one trying to rebuild a bridge THEY burnt.

Its a huge problem, a massive gripe for me, but honestly, I really don't think it has anything to do with Babs specifically, or something that's fair to put ON her even if it does bug when she's the one in the picture at the moment. I think if it seems more of a Babs specific thing just now, that has more to do with her being the one who is most frequently sharing this title with Dick at the moment, while everyone else like Tim seems more slated as guest stars, but yeah.

Its a massive, wide-spreading problem, but it really is less about any other character in specific and more about how DC regards Dick's character as being 'useful' in that he can solve almost any family dispute by throwing himself under the bus or give them a common grievance in the form of well, himself.

[ouyangzizhensdad]

I'm reading through some of your meta and in the one about WWX possibly weaponizing MXY being gay you mention how MXY being a molester was fabricated. I agree with this but I always thought that this was a personal headcanon and didn't realize that it was supported by canon. If you're up to it, please may you point me to where it might say this?

Hi anon, 

I’m sad to report that there isn’t a scene where JGY admits before a jury that yes, it was I, I fabricated the claims against Mo Xuanyu, who was a hapless victim all along! which would be convenient for winning arguments quickly and easily. But, I promise you, so long as we read between the lines, it is undeniable that we are meant to understand by the end of the novel that the accusations leveled against Mo Xuanyu were baseless and that he was another victim of JGY’s (and NHS’s!) machinations.

Beyond a purely thematic reading of the novel, which would  therefore highlight  that the theme around how public opinion is willing to believe accusations and condemn without material or sensible proof (particularly so when it comes to people who do not hold a lot of power within society, those who are the Other) is one that is repeated across many characters, the narrative reveal of JGY’s true personality and actions indicates that the accusations against MXY were just  another ploy of JGY’s. 

At the very beginning of the novel, when WWX looks through Mo Xuanyu’s things, he’s able to piece out together that Mo Xuanyu’s “lunacy” seemed rooted in a deep and paranoiac fear of.... something. MXY didn’t just get thrown out of the Sect in disgrace--something clearly happened to him, or he clearly witnessed something that scared him out of his senses. 

“after he returned, he seemed to have gone completely mad—although no one could tell what kind of shock he’d suffered. He had good days and bad ones. It was as if he had been scared witless.” [Chapter 1]

Further into the novel, it is revealed that MXY didn’t actually harass his “peers” but actually only one person: Jin Guangyao. Right after this reveal, we also learn that MXY used to treat JGY with the utmost respect and deference. While Jin Ling seems to misunderstand this past deification of JGY as a side-effect of MXY’s presumed feelings for him, as readers we can see how it actually raises doubts into the claims leveraged against MXY, as it would then seem very out of character for MXY to disrespect JGY by harassing him (especially if one considers that the risks of harassing his powerful half-brother definitely would not outweigh the benefits....).

“Don’t listen to [JGY],” said Wei Wuxian. “Let me tell you—when you grow older, you’ll find out that there are more and more people you want to beat up, but you’ll have to force yourself to get along with them nicely. So, since you’re still young, go beat up all the people you want. At such an age, if you don’t have a few proper fights, your life won’t be complete.”

Jin Ling’s face betrayed faint yearning, yet he still sounded contemptuous, “What are you talking about? Shushu’s advice is for my own good.”

After he spoke, he suddenly remembered that the past Mo Xuanyu had always regarded Jin Guangyao as a deity. He definitely would not have disagreed with Jin Guangyao in any way. Yet, now he was saying not to listen to him. Was it that he really did not hold any improper thoughts toward Jin Guangyao anymore?

(we also learn that Zewu-jun never knew about what supposedly happened, or even who MXY was, which again.....fishy.... JGY what are you hiding...... not mentioning someone harassed you to your bff is one thing, but not introducing him to your half-bro?.... )

Then! Almost right after we learn all this new information, it is also revealed through WWX’s paperman adventures and NMJ’s adventures that JGY is not who he has presented himself to be: he is a master manipulator, who has lied and continues to lie to preserve his position and to eliminate people he perceives as threatening the place he carved for himself in sweat and tears and blood. 

At this point, the deal is pretty much sealed: we have an unreliable witness in the man we now know to be able to do incredibly scary and cruel things (a knowledge that will only be reinforced by the end of the novel once NHS’ plan is completed). What actually happened, how MXY went from someone who deified JGY to someone who would need to be sent away in disgrace and scared into silence and compliance, all this is not told to us by the novel. It is possible that JGY might have seen MXY as a potential accomplice to his deeds (like he did his other half-brother, XY) (EDIT: I DREAMED UP THAT XY was one of JGS’s bastard children, please disregard it), or that he might have seen MXY as a potential threat to his position because of they shared a father--honestly, I can see many possibilities here! 

Also, it is important to consider that even the claim of MXY’s “lunacy”  is pretty fraught and ambiguous. The novel ends up setting up the idea that MXY’s erratic behaviour was related to him being scared (as we see in the and frustrated at the injustice he received at the hands of both the Jin Sect and his family (for example, this piece of shino meta)

Finally, it’s a good time to remember that even MXY’s sacrifice was not a decision he made on his own: he was once again the victim of a mastermind with much more power and influence than he could ever dream to have. After all, the novel takes pain to explain to us that NHS’s schemes for revenge depended on MXY sacrificing himself (passage under the cut because this post is getting long!)

“Nie-zongzhu,” Wei Wuxian asked again. “I heard that you often travel between the Gusu Lan sect and the Lanling Jin sect, am I right?”

“That’s right.”

“Then did you really not recognize Mo Xuanyu?”

“Ah?” Nie Huaisang’s face twitched slightly. 

“I remember that the first time I met you after my soul had been offered into his body, you acted as if you did not recognize me, and even asked Hanguang-jun who I was. Mo Xuanyu was then entangled anyhow with Jin Guangyao during that time* and was able to access even his secret collections, and you often went to find Jin-zongzhu to complain. Even if you and Mo Xuanyu were not familiar with each other, did you really not see him before at all?”

Nie Huaisang scratched his head, saying, “Wei-xiong, Jinlintai is so huge, I can’t possibly recognize everyone, even if I’ve seen them, I can’t remember. Moreover…” 

Looking rather awkward, he continued, “You know about Mo Xuanyu’s identity back then, it’s slightly…...the Lanling Jin sect had tried their best to hide it, so it wouldn’t have been surprising if I had never met him before. Even Xichen-ge may not have met him before.”

“Oh, that’s true. Zewu-jun did not know who Mo Xuanyu was either.”

“Right! And what I don’t understand is, even if I had seen Mo Xuanyu before, why would I pretend not to recognize him? Was there such a need?”

Wei Wuxian laughed and replied, “Nothing much, I just thought it strange and was casually asking. 

However, he thought, He was simply trying to see whether the ‘Mo Xuanyu’ he met was the real one.

For someone who was said to have been cowardly and weak, where would have Mo Xuanyu gotten the courage to sacrifice himself and offer his soul?

And as for Chifeng-zun’s left hand, why was it discarded? It could not be that Jin Guangyao would accidentally lose it.

Moreover, why was it that it happened to appear right at the Mo family residence, just when Wei Wuxian had been reincarnated, but not somewhere else? 

If Chifeng-zun’s body had been buried by the QingheNie sect, would Nie Huaisang, who had always respected his older brother, not notice that his body had disappeared all these years?

Wei Wuxian was inclined to believe an alternative situation. 

[...]

As such, [NHS] thought of another person; Mo Xuanyu, who had just been kicked out of the Golden Pavilion. 

Perhaps in order to let Mo Xuanyu listen to him, Nie Huaisang had already spoken to him before and heard from an upset and anguished Mo Xuanyu that he had seen one of Jin Guangyao’s scrolls of forbidden spells recording a certain ancient demonic spell. He then took advantage of the Mo Xuanyu, who was then humiliated and bullied by his clan, to persuade him to perform the spell as revenge**. 

And which fierce corpse would he summon?

Naturally, he would summon the Yiling Patriarch.

Unable to bear the days of humiliation any longer, Mo Xuanyu finally drew the array, and Nie Huaisang also took the chance to throw out the hot potato that was burning his hand: ChiFeng-Zun’s left arm.

From there on, his plan had begun and he no longer had to spend his own time and energy to find Nie Mingjue’s remaining body, leaving the dangerous and troublesome job to Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji. All he had to do was watch their actions closely. [Chapter 109]

*I changed the translation here, which originally said that “Mo Xuanyu was harassing Jin Guangyao” since I find (at least with my limited linguistic skills lmao) that the original is much more ambivalent. The clause is  莫玄羽当年好歹也纠缠过金光瑶, and the use of  好歹 signals to me toward ambivalence, which is further compounded by the fact that the verb  纠缠 does not necessarily translate to harassment. So I doubt that the original intent was to suggest that WWX was saying to NHS: shouldn’t you have known the dude who was harassing JGY? Anyone who knows Chinese more than I do is free to come and correct me if I am completely wrong in my assessment.

**Okay I changed the translation here again because the translation I was working with made it seem as if MXY was motivated by shame? but the original Chinese says  他便怂恿当时饱受族人欺辱的莫玄羽 which to me clearly points to his treatment by the Mo family/clan and to the fact that it was something being done unto him, not a state of mind he had. 

[liss-99]

I'm sorry I had to : 93 × no body no crime

I'm so excited what you do for this :))

I cannot even tell you the reaction I had when I saw this prompt. This might be my favorite one yet. I hid it below the line because I love it that much!

TW: murder and violence, obviously

It was a secret she would take with her to the grave. 

Kate Sharma and Sophie Beckett became best friends during their first year of college. They were both averse to popularity and the social scene, electing instead to carve their own paths in life. Kate wished to become a social worker while Sophie had dreams of being an elementary school teacher. Their first meeting was in a freshman child psychology course, and the rest, as people often said, was history. 

They were there for each other through all of the life moments; their undergraduate and graduate programs, getting that first job, boyfriends, drunken nights, vacations, weekend hikes, vintage clothing shopping on rainy days, living together, everything. 

Sophie met a man eventually, Phillip Cavender. They married after only six months together, Sophie had been completely captured by him. He was from old money and he knew it, and while Kate didn’t particularly like him, she loved her friend, so she did her best to be supportive. Cavender never seemed to realize how great of a person Sophie was, and the veneer of their marriage quickly cracked. 

Both having busy lives and full-time jobs, the women didn’t get to see each other as often as they both would have liked. But, they did have a ritual, ensuring they got to catch up with each other. 

Every Tuesday, they would meet up at the local Olive Garden, their favorite chain restaurant since college, for dinner and a glass of wine, Chardonnay for Kate and Pinot Noir for Sophie. They usually chatted about work, romance, the latest news, whatever was on their minds. But this night, when Sophie arrived she looked more stressed out than Kate had ever seen her. Their wine had already arrived, the staff had come to learn the routine, so Sophie took a huge sip of hers and sighed as she sat down. 

“What’s the matter?” Kate asked, concerned about her best friend. Sophie looked as if she hadn’t been sleeping. 

“It’s Phil,” Sophie sighed. “He’s been acting different, and I don’t have any proof, but it smells like infidelity to me.”

“You think he’s cheating on you?” 

“All I know is he tastes like merlot whenever we kiss,” Sophie replied, “and we don’t drink merlot.”

Kate crossed her arms, waiting for more. 

“I was going through our joint account yesterday, you know, just for maintenance, to make sure everything was in order.”

“And?”

“There was a $1200 charge for Tiffany’s from three weeks ago. He hasn’t given me any jewelry since he proposed.”

“That bastard,” Kate exclaimed. “He’s absolutely cheating.”

“No there ain’t no doubt about it. I want to call him out.”

Sophie’s jaw clenched, which didn’t go unnoticed by Kate. 

“I think he did it but I just can’t prove it. A few undiscussed charges and the taste of wine aren’t enough to accuse my husband of cheating. 

“Ah, corpus delicti,” Kate sighed, sitting back in her chair. “No body, no crime.”

“Exactly. Without any proof, I don’t have grounds for divorce or he’ll ruin me. I think he did it, but I need proof. Even if it takes me until the day I die, I won’t let up.”

Kate raised her glass to cheers with Sophie, silently celebrating that her best friend would hopefully soon be rid of her scummy husband. 

~

Sophie wasn’t there Tuesday night at Olive Garden, at her job, or anywhere. It had been a few weeks since her revelation to Kate that she wanted to leave her husband. 

They’d canceled the previous week, with Sophie texting 

“Sorry, talking to Phil tn. Can’t make it to dinner. See you next week?”

And that was the last time Kate had heard from Sophie. It was unlike Sophie to be non-communicative, especially with her. When Cavender reported Sophie as missing the next day, Kate immediately grew suspicious. The police launched a full investigation, but Sophie was nowhere to be found. They deemed her a missing person. 

Kate drove by Sophie’s house one night, and in the driveway, she noticed something peculiar. Cavender’s truck had some brand new tires. Sophie had always been complaining that he wouldn’t get new ones even though the truck desperately needed them. Cavender always complained it was a rip-off, which was rich coming from someone as wealthy as he was. But now, all Kate could see were the shiny new tires. Also of interest was the way in which one Cressida Cowper had begun taking residence in Cavender’s house. It made a lot of sense when Kate thought about it, of course Cressida was his mistress. Kate had no doubts that Cressida probably slept in Sophie’s bed and everything as if Sophie had never even existed. 

Like a lightning bolt, it all clicked for Kate. The Cavender family was proud of their name, and nothing would ruin them more than a divorce less than a year after marriage. Sophie had told Kate the morning of her last text that she finally felt like she had enough evidence to confront Cavender about the cheating. Putting 2 and 2 together, Kate determined Cavender had done something to Sophie. 

He was a cruel man, and Kate was almost positive he abused Sophie throughout their marriage. But Sophie had been careful to hide any signs of mistreatment, so Kate had never been sure. But, without a doubt, Kate was positive Cavender had murdered Sophie, most likely because she accused him of an affair. 

The police, lousy pigs that they were, had quickly given up searching for Sophie, and without a body, there was no crime. Kate wouldn’t be able to prove that Cavender had murdered his wife, but she could enact revenge. 

It really was quite an easy decision. The world would be a better place without Phillip Cavender, and if justice wasn’t going to be given for Sophie’s death, Kate would take it herself. 

On the night she decided it would happen, Kate pulled her old handgun, dusty, covered in cobwebs, and placed it in her bag. She drove out of town, to Cavender’s mansion nestled on the edge of the woods, near a big lake. Kate knew Cressida was gone; the woman was a pharmaceutical sales rep and she was often on ‘business trips.’ 

Kate knocked on the door, and the look of surprise on Cavender’s face when he answered was almost retribution enough. 

“Kate, how can I help you?” He was cold to her, suspicious. 

“I just wanted to check in, see how you are doing with Sophie’s disappearance.” 

“Oh, of course, come in,” he turned, and Kate knew he wanted nothing less than for her to come in. 

With his back turned, she pulled the gun out of her bag and aimed it directly at his head. When he turned back around to feign conversation with her, his breath immediately hitched. 

“Kate, what the hell are you doing?”

“I know Sophie is dead, and that you’re the one who killed her.” 

“You have no proof,” he laughed smugly. 

“I don’t care. It’s the only explanation.”

“Okay? So you’re going to shoot me? That’s going to go over really well for you, if anything, it’ll just make it look like you’re the one who killed Sophie, even though, yeah, of course I was the one who did it. You really think I was about to let her accuse me of cheating and ruin my family? Think carefully about what you do next, Kate.”

Kate was stone-cold, unflinching, and she could see the terror behind his smirk. 

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m sure I’ll manage,” she said smoothly before she fired the gun. 

The look on Cavender’s face as he slumped over was one of complete disbelief as if it was the first time he would face consequences for his actions. 

When she was 15, Kate’s dad had made her and her younger sister Edwina get boating licenses. He believed it was important to know how to operate all kinds of moving vehicles, ‘just in case.’ 

Kate was grateful for her father’s thinking as she dragged Cavender, wrapped up in a plastic bag, out back to his dock. She heaved his body into the boat, before boating out to the middle of the slimly inhabited lake. It was pitch black outside, and she’d cut the lights on the boat; no one would ever know she was there. With carefully gloved hands, a trick she knew from her crime podcasts and tv shows, she pushed Cavender over the side of the boat, and listened to the glorious sound of him sinking. 

Later, she meticulously cleaned the house, removing any signs of a murder. She cleaned enough houses throughout her life to know how to cover up a scene. 

The next morning, she sent Posy, Sophie’s stepsister, a text. 

“If anyone asks, swear you were with me last night?”

“I swear it.”

Kate wasn’t the only one who disliked Cavender; Kate knew Posy would say whatever to protect her. 

Several days later, when it became public knowledge that Phillip Cavender was missing, news quickly spread of the big life insurance policy Cressida Cowper had taken out just a week prior. Kate hadn’t known this prior to the act, but it made things all the better for her. 

Everyone assumed Cressida had axed Cavender, in hopes of a large sum of money, but with no body, there was no crime, and they just couldn’t prove it. 

Kate was pretty sure Cressida knew what she had done, the way they locked eyes on each other in the town center. Cressida had flames in her eyes when she looked at Kate, but she would never be able to prove it. 

So, the disappearances of Sophie Beckett and Phillip Cavender were never solved; Kate Sharma was the only one to ever know the truth. 

It was a secret she would take with her to the grave.

Taylor Swift Bridgerton One-Shots

[pink-peony-princess]

Deliverance|S.M Werewolf AU

Part Two🐺

In my dream I was running, running as fast as I could and yet the wolves that were chasing me were only gaining on me.

I knew that I only had a matter of seconds before it was all over, before I was dead and so I welcomed the wolf as he lunged forward to kill me.

...

I woke with a start, breathing heavily as I looked around realising that I was safe, I wasi n Shawn's room still, but it was light out now, morning light reflecting like diamonds off the lake in the distance.

There was a soft knock at the door, causing me to jump before Shawn appeared dressed in a t-shirt,and track pants, his feet bare.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he apologized, coming to sit at the end of he bed. "Are you okay? I heard you whimpering in your sleep."

I nodded, still half asleep. "I'm good, bad dream I guess," I shrugged, not wanting to go into it anymore.

"You can go back to sleep for a while, it's still early and I have a few things I need to do with the pack before the day starts," Shawn offered with a soft smile. I turned looking at the cosy hole of pillows and blankets I'd left.

"Thank you, I murmured, stiffling a yawn.

"Sleep well Pup," he spoke getting up and leaving the room, closing the door softly behind him. I lay there from a while, just watching the world out the window, just this simple act felt so luxurious, the mountains, everything was so pretty, so green, so vibrant compared to my old life.

How different my life was now I thought as I shut my eyes and drifted off again.

When I woke again, I could tell several hours had past from the angle of the sun, and the fact that I was no longer fighting the urge to sleep. I sat up and stretched, before getting up and heading to the door. I had no idea where I was going, but I was hungry and I had this weird yearning to be near Shawn. It made me uneasy after everything that had happened to me that I needed someone, especially a male so much, but I couldn't deny the feeling I was having, maybe it was something to do with this mate connection that Shawn had been taking about?

I made my way through the house, heading down corridor after corridor, down several staircases and into a massive living room with several oversized couches and a fire place.

"Lucy?" I turned at the sound of the familiar female voice. Karla, was standing at the other side of the room watching me inquisitively. "Are you okay?" she asked, making her way towards me.

"You know my name?" I asked surprised.

"Shawn told us," she smiled registering the confusion which I felt. "What are you doing up?"

"I woke up and Shawn wasn't in his room, I came to find him," I explained, still somewhat distracted by the sheer size and grandure of the room.

"He's in the kitchen making you breakfast, he loves to cook. I'll show you the way if you want," she offered.

I nodded and she took my hand without hesitation, leading me through an archway which opened out into the kitchen. Like the living room before, the kitchen too was huge, a massive marble island taking up the centre part of the space, several stoves and counters, Karla smiled and left.

"Morning Pup, sleep well? Shawn asked when he spotted me standing there, coming over and laying a ghost kiss on my temple. "Sorry I shouldn't have done that," he frowned.

"It's okay. It feels nice," I smiled. He beamed back. "It'll just take some time for me to get used to everyday things again." I was saying it more to myself than him. But he answered.

"We've got nothing but time, however to fill that time how about we eat, you need nutrients Pup. What do you like to eat?"

It was a simple enough question, but it had been so long since I had been asked it, that I didn't know how to respond.

"How about pancakes and fruit?" he asked, helping me out.

I nodded, thankful I didn't have to make a decision for myself.

"Want to watch?" he asked.

"Yes please."

He nodded "Since you're so short, how about you sit on the bench?" he suggested.

"How am I meant to get up there?" I asked eying the jump, there was no way in hell that I'd be able to make it on my own.

"Can I help you?" he asked coming to stand in front of me. I nodded, still a little unsure. "I'm going to lift you okay?" he checked.

I nodded again and he placed his hands on my waist and lifted me with ease onto the bench.

"Ever made pancakes before?" he asked reaching above him to the hooks which held a bunch of saucepans, grabbing one down.

"Yes, but not in a long time, not since-" I stopped shuddering as memories flooded back.

"Do you want to stir the batter?" he asked, breaking me free of the silent torture.

We went about the process quietly, I was greatful for that, because I still wasn't feeling particularly verbose. Not used to being allowed to talk, let alone anyone actually being interested in what I had to say.

When the food was ready he helped me down off the bench and led me back the way I'd come and out onto a secluded balcony overlooking the sound. It was stunning, the morning sun reflecting like one big dimond off the water, the sound of birds and the breese filling the air.

"How come we haven't seen any of the pack, except for Karla?" I asked as I sat down.

"Because this part of the house is only for the Alpha and his immediate superiors," he answered, taking a bite of his food. "Plus, I asked them to keep their distance, I figured you'd need some time to adjust."

"But Karla?" I stopped confused.

"Is my Beta Connor's mate," he explained.

"Oh,"

We lapsed back into a comfortable silence. giving me a chance to take a bite of my own food. It was hands down the most delicious thing I'd ever eaten, and I was overcome by a hunger I didn't know I had in me, finishing my plate miles ahead of Shawn.

"You still hungry Pup?" he asked looking over at my now empty plate with a smile.

I shook my head no, smiling back at him, I was fuller than I could ever remember.

I sat watching the sound for a while as Shawn finished his pancakes, but my peace was suddenly interrupted by an odd and unnerving sensation in my stomach, almost like nervous butterflies, but way more intense.

"Shawn," I panicked.

"What's wrong,?" he demanded, standing up and coming to squat in front of me, searching every inch of my face.

"The feeling?" I asked, desperately hoping he'd understand. "Like butterflies," I gasped as they ramped up when I grabbed his hand squeezing it as hard as I could. "What is it Shawn?" I asked again as I took in hus huge grin.

"It's your wolf Lucy." he let out a breath." I was so worried she was repressed for too long, but she's alive," he chocked on his words.

"Is that good?" I asked confused, still squeezing his hand.

"That's great, it means you'll be able to live like the rest of us, to change, to mate." I blushed at the last part.

"But why this feeling?"

"She's restless," he explained. "She knows she's in the presence of her mate, my wolf and she wants out. When youre well enough I'll teach you how to let her free," he added.

"Will it hurt?" I asked suddenly worried.

"It might be a bit uncomfortable the first time she takes over, it's kind of like having to share your head, your thoughts and feelings with someone else, but trust me, there's no better feeling than running free in the woods, your wolf able to do as they please without restriction.

I nodded, still not entirely sure, but I trusted him.

We sat just watching the water for a while, not needing to talk. It was strange to me, being able to just sit, not having rules to follow, people coming to use me for their own personal gain, not feeling pain. But it was also welcome.

"Are you ready to start the day?" Shawn asked, as he stood half an hour later, grabbing our plates off the table with one hand and holding his other out for me to take.

I nodded, standing up slowly,taking his hand, and following him inside.

"What are we doing today?" I asked as he dumped the plates in the sink and led the way back to his room.

"What would you like to do today?" he asked as we stepped into his now familiar room once again.

I stood there, thinking. Again not used to having the freedom to make choices for myself.

"A few of the girls like to paint," he suggested as he rummaged around in his cupboard, pulling a pair of trainers out and sitting on the end of the bed to put them on. "I could get you some paints or different art supplies if you like, or you could read, we could even go for a short walk around the grounds if you're feeling up to it later," he added with a smile coming over to stand in front of me.

"I'd like to paint?" It came out as more of a question, but he nodded.

"I'll get you the stuff you need," he murmured, placing another soft kiss against my forehead, causing me to all but melt into him. I couldn't get over the way he made me feel. It was like everything in my head told me to keep my distance, to stay clear, to protect myself. But my body and heart were saying the opposite- wanting nothing more than to be as close as possible to this man, it was almost as if my body needed the physical contact with Shawn to function now. It wasn't that that was a bad thing, it was just such a change from two days earlier when I would have done everything in my power to stay clear of any and all males.

"How about you have a shower, get ready for the day, I'll go and do what I need to do- check in on the younger ones, do a perimeter run and then we can go to the pack meeting together?" he suggested, moving around me to pull a towel and a new oversized hoodie off his dresser which I hadn't even realised was there.

The first 10 minutes of the shower were heavenly,the hot water helping to unknot my still aching muscles, the steam clearing my senses, but as I relaxed into it, listening to the sound of the water beating down on the tiled floor my mind started to wonder, and soon I was feeling anything but comfort.

I could feel the familiar rush of adrenaline, the way my hands and feet went slightly numb and shaky, my chest heaving as I gasped for air, collapsing in a heap in the corner of the shower, head against the damp wall as image after image of my old life haunted me.

I sat there for what felt like forever, the water drowning out my pathetic attempts to choke back the sobs that were now wracking my tired body.

"Lucy, are you okay in there?" an alarmed voice spoke, slightly muffled by the door.

"Help, please, help me," I whispered,hoping that whoever it was would hear me.

"I'm coming in," the person spoke and a moment later the door to the shower was ripped open revealing Karla, a look of deep worry on her face.

"Lucy, what's the matter?" she asked, reaching in to turn the water off.

"Ca-can't breathe," I stuttered, holding my hand over my chest.

"Oh, God, here, I'm going to help you get out," she rushed out of the room, coming back moments later with another large towel. "Can you stand up? "she asked watching me uncertainly.

"Think so," I nodded. She stepped into the shower wrapping the towel around me, before helping me carefully to my feet. I didn't even care at this point that she'd seen me without anything on, I was just desperate for this feeling to stop.

"Just take slow deep breaths," she encouraged with a soft smile as I made my way slowly to the bed. "Have you had panic attacks before she asked?" Sitting on the bed beside me, grabbing the sweater that Shawn had set aside for me and helping me to pull it over my head, instantly engolfing me with the warmth and scent of Shawn.

I nodded, still feeling extremely shaky.

"Do you think you'll be alright if I go and get Shawn?" she asked. "I promise it'll take me 2 seconds. I just think Shawn will be able to help you more than I can," she told me.

I nodded. I didn't want to be left alone, but I wanted Shawn more.

She left in a hurry, looking over her shoulder at me with pity.

As I sat and waited, I tried to stay calm, but my the time the door opened again, I was once again struggling to breathe, my chest heaving.

"Oh, Pup, what's the matter?" Shawn asked coming to sit next to me as Karla had, before laying a very gentle hand on my shoulder.

"Don't know, just feel scared," I shrugged, not looking up at him. I hated the idea that he was seeing me so vulnerable.

"Lucy, honey, can you look at me," his voice was barely a whisper.

I looked up reluctantly, knowing that he'd be able to see the tears, not yet dried on my cheeks, the puffy redness under my eyes nodoubt making me look like a chipmunk.

"We're going to do some grounding excercises okay," he smiled softly. "Take a big breath in, and I want you to hold it until I count to 10."

I did as he said, feeling my lungs expand with the air they so desperately needed.

"Good," he praised, and slowly breathe out through your mouth," he instructed. "I'm going to lift you up okay?" he asked. I nodded, letting him know I was okay with it.

He lifted me quickly and easily, sitting me in his lap, not seeming to care about the fact that I still had dripping hair. I curled into him instinctively, as I hiccupped, my tears slowing slightly now, my chest just a little less tight.

"You're okay Lucy, I'm here, I've got you," he murmured, resting his chin on the top of my head.

"I'm sorry," I croaked out, when after a few minutes neither of us had spoken.

"For what?" he asked, looking at me with confusion in his eyes.

"For me," I said, as if it should be obvious.

"Lucy, please don't apologise, none of this is your fault," he responded, rubbing soothing circles up and down my arms. "You know fear is nothing but an obstacle, and we will get past it, together," he added comfortingly.

"I just feel useless sometimes," I admitted, more to myself than to him.

"You are anything but useless," he replied, "and to prove it," he added, "I'm going to take you to meet the pack, if you're up to it," he smiled. "They're all so excited to meet you, and we have a pack meeting dinner thing tonight so I thought it might be nice if you joined."

"Why if they don't like me?" I worried, ringing my hands nervously.

"They will trust me," he smiled again, shifting me off of his lap before standing up and holding his hand out for me to take, which I did gladly.

There were already several people waiting in the living room when we made it downstairs and I couldn't help but feel a little intimidated at the thought of all these new people.

Shawn squeezed my hand reassuringly as he lead me to a large armchair where he sat, before pulling me down to sit on his lap without seemingly a second thought.

"Everyone, this is Lucy," Shawn introduced. "This is Dave, Brian, Connor, you know Karla," she shot me a warm smile "Beth and Angie," Shawn pointed them out one by one. They all smiled warmly, waving at me.

"So what's on the agenda for tonight?" Connor, I assumed from the way Karla was snuggled into his side much like I was with Shawn, asked.

"We need to be putting protective measures into place, since Lucy's been here other packs are getting restless, and given the circumstances, I don't want to take any risks."

The others nodded in silent agreement before Shawn went on.

"When I found Lucy-" he paused to look at me, shaking his head, "she was mere moments from having her life cut short, it was just lucky, I happened to be doing a run of the grounds, who knows what would have happened..." he trailed off. I felt myself shudder and Shawn's arms tighten around me ever so slightly as we simultaneously re- lived those horrific few seconds.

"You know we're all behind you man," someone else spoke up, causing everyone to nod.

"Thank you," Shawn replied sincerely, "At this stage there have only been two attempts at breaches, they don't seem bold enough to actually enter our lands, but they're hanging around the fringe, getting more game everyday," he frowned as he spoke.

At this point I chose to time out the conversation, sometimes ignorance was bliss and I already had enough on my mind without fretting about what was going on around me too much.

As we sat on the sofa hours later, cuddled up as the television played re-runs of Friends I couldn't help but voice my fears.

"Am, am I safe?" I asked nervously, looking up at Shawn who was half dozing, arms wrapped lazily around me.

He sat up slightly, stretching before resting his hands on either side of my face affectionately. Tipping my head back so I was looking up at him.

"We're doing everything we can to protect you," he spoke fiercly, reaching for my hand and squeezing gently."You are my life now," he added, pulling me protectively into his embrace again. For the first time in a long time, the sense of fear that was ever-present disappated somewhat, and I felt safe knowing that regardless of what happened I had Shawn, I had a home and I had a family.

[llendrinall]

Hi I have a writing promt.

A story that is written from both pov's that shows Draco and Harry falling in love with each other. Little moments together where they fall a bit more in love. Things they do that make the other thing "Wow I'm so in love with him". Ect.

Harry had always been starkly aware of Draco, but it was after the war, in the Wizengamot, when he actually noticed him for the first time.

Draco was sitting next to Pansy Parkinson, holding her hand so tight that he was leaving white marks. Harry got a glimpse of them when Pansy was called to give her testimony.

Then the unthinkable happened. Instead of demurring, which she was allowed to do –was expected by everyone to do, was what every other member of a Death Eater family had done so far– Pansy answered all the prosecutor’s questions. She gave true testimony and denied her parents the imperius defence.

Draco was waiting for her when she came down from the stand. He grabbed her hand and led her away with measured steps so it wouldn’t look like they were running.

 *

The second time Harry noticed Draco like that, as a person rather than as an opponent, was, coincidentally, the first time Draco saw Harry as Harry. Not as a school enemy or a war enemy or The Boy Who Lived or The Saviour Of The Wizarding World. Not even as Harry Potter. He saw Harry as just Harry.

It probably helped that Harry was unrecognizable under a thick layer of soot and grime so Draco didn’t know who he was calling an idiot. Draco also yelled to stop immediately and step back and, miraculously, Harry did. No hesitance.

Not all Death Eater had been arrested and not every awful individual had joined Voldemort, which meant that there were plenty of terrible people out in the world. Someone, Death Eater or not, had attacked Wisteria House. The house where rescued and freed house-elves were hosted.

Draco understood that the house-elves weren’t the goal. They were just the bait, a cheap collateral. The point of the attack was to have someone (maybe Harry, most probably Granger), cross the door quickly, without looking around them, and walk straight into a deathly trap.

Draco saw the trap, called out a warning and Harry listened. He listened to Draco.

Both of them walked away with a different opinion of the other. No one comes out the same from a burning building.

 *

 The third time went like this.

“Occupied.”

“Je- Blimey!”

“Find your own corner in the shadows to hide, Potter. This one is mine.”

“I don’t have time to find another spot.”

“Too bad. W- wait! No, quit it!”

“Scoot over! We can share.”

“No, we can’t. This is my dark spot, go away.”

“Either we share or I make sure they find you too.”

“As if I care. I’m not hiding from your devotees. Go away.”

“It’s Clay Buckthorn.”

“… be quiet, then.”

They hid in there for an hour, talking in whispers and sharing a bottle of butterbeer, while Secretary Buckthorn, the most persistent and insufferable politician to ever crawl out of the Ministry, looked around for a popular face to join his campaign. They were about to leave when in came Rita Skeeter, pressuring Percy Weasley to answer her questions. They watched from the shadows as she pressed and cajoled and he resisted. It was a bit like watching some sort of fight sport, only after ten minutes they weren’t sure who they were supporting.

 *

Harry thought Draco was dating Pansy Parkinson and maybe he still was. Evidently, it was all for show. No need to read so much into it.  

There was this old witch complaining about tradition and values. Nothing no one hadn’t heard before many times. People these days had no respect, it was disgraceful and so on. But then she turned to Dennis Creevey and his boyfriend (some Slytherin kid, Harry didn’t know him), and she asked if their families weren’t ashamed of them. Two men together. They ought to be.

Harry wasn’t sure if she knew about Dennis’ brother or not. It was hard to believe that people could be so deliberately cruel to a stranger. The question stopped him from immediately jumping to her neck. He had been accused of blowing things out or proportion before. And by before, he meant that morning when he called out that rude shopper who cut the line before a goblin.

Meanwhile, Draco rolled his eyes in that magnificent way of his. For someone who acted so proud and proper, Draco had a very expressive face and the rolling of his eyes was a spectacle to behold. He stood from his table, grabbed Theo Nott by the lapels, and kissed him on the mouth long and hard right in the middle of the crowded restaurant. Afterwards he sat down, perfectly composed, and both Theo and him turned to look at the witch like the smuggest pair of snakes in the forest.

The witch left the restaurant soon after. Dennis lost the wretched look on his face and Harry paid the bill on Draco’s table, earning a nod from him on the way out.

*

The day Draco’s heart began to beat a different rhythm was a hot Thursday in summer and someone had tried to kill him.

It wasn’t a particularly well thought attack and Draco took precautions. He wouldn’t have gotten anything worse than an intense headache and maybe some sore muscles. Still, Harry felt the need to push him to the floor and shield him with his body from the sparks and shrapnel falling over them. Harry had stopped the hex in mid-air, which was admittedly impressive. Draco watched the purple rivulets of the failed curse slowly descending around them and wondered if he was in shock. That would be embarrassing. This clumsy attack on his life didn’t deserve any shock.

Harry jumped from him (so nimble!) and chased down the would-be murdered, on foot, like a muggle. He, he just ran down the street, didn’t even cast a spell until he caught up to him and brought him to the floor. Draco was sorry to miss that part, although there were very good pictures on the newspaper the next day. Harry looked amazingly heroic. One of the pictures had him jumping in mid-air.

Draco didn’t know if this was something Harry did for everybody or if it was just for him, nor did he care. His chest and stomach and… other parts, were confused enough about how to feel, and his heart, in particular was beating to a new tune.  

*

So Draco could make moving shadows to play stories and it was amazingly beautiful and Harry loved it, he loved it, and no, it was not the potion talking, he was perfectly sound of mind. St Mungo was about to let him go! But Draco had come visit him and when Harry complained about being dreadfully bored, Draco had put on this absolutely magical spectacle (yes, Harry knew they were both wizards, it was still magical; no, no potion talking, it was an honest opinion). In the end Harry stayed the night, just like the mediwitch had begged him to, and fell asleep with the shadows performing a dance before him.

*

Draco didn’t call it love because he was quite an obstinate young man, but he was at that stage where he would easily admit that he was willing to lay down his life for Harry. He only had trouble with the word, not with the sentiment itself and its manifestation.

They were at the Ministry. It should be a pretty simple and straight-forward process. Go in, Pansy signs the documents, Draco bears witness and signs his own documents, go out. But of course it wouldn’t be so simple. A pretty pureblood witch doing anything against her family was a spectacle. The press wanted photos, people wanted to see it live, and, of course, there was the ever present mob who just wanted to shout awful things. Usually Pansy dealt with the mob by herself, swiftly and with a sting.

But today was different, hence why Draco had informed Pansy he would be accompanying her before she could ask him to. It wasn’t like the day she gave her testimony, but it was close enough. In a way, it was worse. A year ago they had her testimony to think about. Today it was just signing a document. That could hardly distract them from the crowd waiting for them.  

A push. A yelp. A crash. And Harry Potter gallantly preventing a very old wizard from having a huge flower vase fall on top of him. Somehow, Harry didn’t cast protego in time, so he avoided being brained by the vase but was splashed by the water and stood completely drenched in the middle of the Ministry main hall.

Across the mass of curious people and reporters and workers and people who had come to shout awful things, Harry looked at Draco. He gave him A Look. If he had more time, Draco would stop and think of a suitable metaphor for Harry’s eyes, their colour and intensity. But he didn’t, so he grabbed Pansy by the elbow and together they crossed the hall without the crowd noticing. Everyone’s attention was naturally fixed on the way the Saviour of the Wizarding World’s wet clothes clung to his chest.

Afterwards, once he had seen Pansy safely (and discreetly) home, Draco went to find Harry. He was perfectly dry now, but he had a faint scent of flowers around him.

“The rose garden is lovely in June,” Draco said, which should be enough but of course Harry didn’t understand him. Harry was kind, brave, handsome and clever in the most useless way so Draco had to actually explain, with words, that Weasley and Granger must have realize by now the extent of their fame and what it would mean if they married at the Burrow, where anyone could break in. Hence, why Draco mentioned his lovely rose garden where they could get married if they chose to without anyone invading their privacy.

“Hermione’s extended family is muggle.” Harry said, and dear Merlin it was even worse than Draco thought. They were going to pick a muggle place. So not only people breaking in, but a violent attack against the muggles too. Just what you want for a wedding.

“The Malfoy family marries for power, not blood purity.” Draco explained in a whisper. “There is no repello muggletum in our houses.”

“What!?” Harry cried, drawing immediate and sharp attention to them so they had to leave quickly and find a quiet place where Draco explained that Grandmother Imogen –that is, Lucius Malfoy’s mother– was a muggle but, most importantly, a peer of the Realm.

Harry stood in shocked silence for a minute, and after a lot of “whats” and “hows” and “no, really, how could you join Voldemort?” he accepted to at least extend Draco’s offer to the happy couple.  

*

Draco said he didn’t plan on attending the wedding. Just because he was offering his summer house it didn’t mean he expected an invitation. He got one anyway, because Draco had showed them his summer house and two country houses belonging to his muggle cousins and was very careful not to mention Malfoy Manor at any point. Ron appreciated it even more than Hermione.  

He rejected the invitation anyway because he said he much preferred to sit by the gates and send stinging hexes to anyone trying to intrude. It was his one chance to curse people indiscriminately and he didn’t want to waste it.

He showed up later, during the reception, looking handsome and with a pleased smile on his face. He grabbed a glass of champagne, immediately transformed it from a flute to a pompadour without wasting a drop, and sat himself next to Aunt Muriel whom he proceeded to engage in a long and acrid dispute until Ron and Hermione had left. Dear Aunt Muriel didn’t get a chance to insult the bride, or the groom, or any of their families really.

It was right then, while Draco forged a lifelong enemy (her life, not his) by insulting her garden (how did he know so much about flowers), that Harry realized he was in love. He was in love. He was in love. He wanted to be with Draco and insult people together and scandalize prejudiced old bats until they themselves were old bats.

*

Harry picked up a fight with the officiant (to be fair, that comment about the goblins was very unfortunate) and they ended up getting married at a muggle register’s office and Draco was so, so, happy. His family was obviously displeased. Cousin Nerissa said that her fiancée could officiate and was very offended when Fred Weasley said no one wanted to be married by a man named Cuthbert. It was amazing. George Weasley sat next to Cousin George, the baron. Hermione and Ginny Weasley started a fight with the most traditional-minded relatives (from every side). Cousin Audrey came out to the family when she was caught propositioning Luna Lovegood. Pansy Parkinson got engaged to no less than three lords and said they could sort between themselves who got to marry her.

Draco was so in love. It was amazing.

[ginisfreckles]

A perfect match:

Hinny fanfic:

"I need you to do something very important for me," Harry murmured, nestling his head into Ginny's hair, his arms snaking around her waist from behind.

"You know you're not supposed to be in here," she snorted in response.

"I'm Harry Potter—I'm well-renowned in the Quidditch community. I was the youngest Seeker in a century—"

"Mhmm, and so humble too."

"I'm a celebrity. I'm—"

"Not sure that permits you to be in the changing room of an all-witch Quidditch team, though. Or any Quidditch team, for that matter."

"Alright, alright," Harry conceded, laughing gently. Still holding Ginny from behind, he kissed her cheek. "But I'm here now, and it's just us, and I need you to do something very important for me."

"I'm listening," Ginny said with a smirk, "but I'm not promising I'll do it."

"It's three things, actually."

"Oh, wow, well, that's a lot to ask, now, isn't it?"

"Just listen," Harry laughed.

"Okay, okay, I'm listening."

"Three things I need you to do," he said. "I need you to close your eyes."

Ginny listened patiently.

"Close your eyes," Harry whispered.

Ginny did so, though not without rolling them first.

"Next, I need you to take a deep breath."

Ginny didn't hesitate to do so, inhaling deeply and slowly. In doing so she felt a sense of calm—brief relief from the state of anxiety she'd been in leading up to the match. The oh-so-important match—and not just for her. The whole team was relying on her. Gwenog was relying on her more than anyone. This was the most important match she'd ever play.

"What's the final thing?" she asked in a quiet voice, eyes still closed, glad that Harry's strong arms were still wrapped around her waist. It made her feel safe. It made her feel supported in more ways than just physically.

"The final thing I need you to do," Harry said calmly, "is catch that Snitch."

-

''Ron, please stop swearing," Hermione murmured, looking around in embarrassment. It was the tenth time in the last five minutes alone.

"But they're cheating! They're cheating! They're—"

"They're not cheating—they're just playing the game well!"

"But the Harpies are down fifty points and—"

"And if Ginny catches the Snitch then they'll win anyway, regardless of the current score!"

"Well, yes, but—"

Harry couldn't even bring himself to listen to their incessant bickering. He was too intent on watching the game, his whole body tensed. In the last two hours the Golden Snitch had made several appearances, but neither Ginny nor the Caerphilly Seeker had been able to catch it yet.

The Harpies were down, and Harry couldn't help but feel partially responsible. The reserve playing in place of Ginny was nowhere on par with her and had missed some shots that Ginny would have easily made. But Hermione was right. The current score didn't matter, just so long as Ginny caught—

"The Golden Snitch!" The commentator shrieked, sending the crowds into uproar once more.

Several things happened at once: Ron and Hermione stopped arguing, heads sharply drawn to the tiny golden ball that was now streaking across the stadium; a lot of people leapt to their feet in excitement; Harry's heart skipped a beat; And Ginny dived, with the impulsive speed of the Snitch itself.

Seconds passed, but the following moment felt like hours to Harry. Though there was a deafening roar from the surrounding stands, particularly from the box containing the Weasley family, he could hear nothing but his own thumping heart. And when Ginny did it, her gloved hand clasping the ball mid-air with the Caerphilly Seeker's hand no more than what seemed like an inch away, he was paralysed in awe.

It wasn't until Hermione grabbed his arm, screaming in his ear that he needed to get down to the pitch, when time seemed to start again.

Ginny was drenched in sweat but looked more beautiful than Harry had ever seen her before, red hair plastered to her skin. She didn't even see him as he approached, enfolded in the centre of an ecstatically shrieking huddle of green.

And when she did see him, her eyes lit up, reminding Harry exactly why he'd fallen in love with her in the first place.

He had to remind himself not to get caught up though—not even when she ran into his arms, flinging her arms around him in a tight, victorious embrace.

"Do you still have the Snitch?" Harry blurted out, forgetting to even congratulate her.

Ginny released him, a look of surprise and confusion on her face. "What?" she asked breathlessly.

"The Snitch you caught—do you still have it?"

Ginny looked down towards her gloved hand in confusion, still balled into a fist, with two delicate wings protruding from each side. "Yeah, of course, but—"

"Look at it," Harry instructed, unable to contain his grin.

Ginny looked at him with deep suspicion, unsure whether she should be amused or concerned. She also felt incredibly self--conscious, realising that not only was her entire team watching her, but also thousands of spectators from the stands.

"Harry, I don't understand."

"Flesh memory," he told her proudly, still as mysterious as before, and still grinning. "All Snitches have them—they only respond to the touch of those who first touched it."

"So?" Ginny asked with an uneasy laugh. "I've never touched this Snitch before anyway?"

But that wasn't strictly true. Harry, with the permission of the Department of Magical Games and Sports and all the officials involved in the British and Irish Quidditch League, had been allowed to take this particular Golden Snitch before its Quidditch debut, so long as he never touched it with his own flesh himself. Ginny had slept peacefully as he grazed it against her delicate fingertips the night before, never suspecting a thing.

Harry didn't even want to think about how embarrassing this all would have been had Ginny not ended up catching the Snitch as she just had done.

And he needn't worry about that anymore—because she had.

And as Ginny looked down in confusion at the Golden Snitch that now lay motionless in her hand, she saw four engraved words slowly reveal themselves at her touch. A few seconds later and it had sprung open to reveal what had been so carefully encased within—a gleaming diamond ring.

When she looked back to Harry she was only slightly more surprised to find him on one knee, and just as breathless as he spoke those four simple, but hugely important words.

"Will you marry me?"

And, of course, she said yes. We can't find another a soooo perfect couple can we?

#ginnypotter #ginnyweasley #ginny #gin #harrypotter #hinny