#liking older men is a fault that I will admit completely

[dandyduel]

“Pleasure.”

[lenaswritingandstuff]

All I had • Mattheo Riddle x f!reader (Part 2 & END)

Requested: No well I lowkey did

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x f!reader

Summary: After his girlfriend y/n is killed, Mattheo has to deal not only with pain and sorrow, but also cruel accusations (complete original prompt here), and asks someone for help.

Word count: 4.7K

Warnings: mentions of death, lost and grief; cursing ;

A/N: Thank you guys a lot for the good feedback the first part got! Here Mattheo and Tom are also Bellatrix' sons, and Mattheo is older than Harry by one year (so this takes place during Harry's sixth year) and younger than Tom by one year too. There will be two povs in this part, and I might do a bonus scene if (a lot of) people ask. This is my first time writing for Tom (and Voldemort) so I really hope it's alright. Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Hope you enjoy it!

Tag list: @helendeath @im-jesus

Tag list for this story: @arlxtoa

GIF IS NOT MINE.

PART I

The two Aurors got up and left, and Mattheo blinked. When he opened his eyes again, the  cold metallic table and the chairs disappeared, and he was back into the small room with the bed and the floating candles. Weakly, he laid on the bed and crossed his hands on his stomach. He didn’t know how long he had been here, in this room which was more magical than he thought as the bed, the sink and the table that were here when he arrived disappeared every time the Aurors came in, with a metallic table and three chairs surrounded by simple darkness which disappeared when the two men did. However, it must have been at least two days, spent refusing anything he was proposed to eat or drink - strangely enough, though, he wasn’t feeling hungry or thirsty at all - and refusing to say what those two fuckers demanded. Everytime they came in, Mattheo asked if they contacted Tom so he could come, but they refused to answer, insisting with their dumb questions instead. 

At first, his brother not coming to his aid had gave Mattheo great anxiety, as he saw it as the only way to prove he didn’t do what they accused him of - his mind refused to use the real words - but now, as time passed and without an answer, all anxiety - which was the only thing he was able to feel besides his pain and empty chest - had left him, leaving only resignation. If he was sent to Azkaban, so be it. After all, even if he didn’t do it, didn’t he deserve it for not being able to protect y/n? He was her boyfriend, who vowed while looking into her eyes, her eyes he was crazy about, to always protect her and save her if needed, and he couldn’t fucking do that. And again, even if he didn’t do it, it was his fault she was gone. If he hadn’t gone out for a stupid cigarette with Theo, maybe y/n wouldn’t have left her room and she would still be here, holding his hand and kissing him. Some part of him knew that maybe she left to go help a friend in need - typical y/n - and didn’t actually go out to look after him after he took a while to come back, but the biggest part of him refused to think about that theory, refusing to admit that it wasn’t his fault somehow. 

It had been too good to be true, he thought. He had managed to escape both his parents ever since his father came back and his mother escaped Azkaban, Tom and Dumbledore helping him hide during the summer holidays - y/n had asked him countless time to come to live in her parents’ house, but despite wanting nothing more than to say yes and spend the summer by her side, Mattheo had refused to put her and her family, who had already been kind enough to let someone like him date their daughter, in danger. He had also managed the anxiety and stress his father’s coming back had brought, mostly due to y/n’s love and care, and had even managed to plan on becoming an Auror once he would leave school, which he knew had worried y/n, but now, all the good things he had managed to do and the overall good - or at least; bearable - life he had built around his friends and y/n not only meant nothing, but it had died with her. Because even if I manage to not go to Azkaban, what would I do? I might as well join my father. 

But Mattheo had that thought, y/n’s sad, disappointed face appeared to him, and he hated himself even more. y/n wouldn’t want that, he forced himself to think, slightly shaking his head. y/n would want him to fight, and most importantly, would want him to remain the boy she had loved. His only option, if he managed to not go to prison, would be to hide until his death - which now he didn’t care when it would come. The door suddenly opened, bringing Mattheo out of his thoughts, and had half expected the Aurors to come back and, letting out a long sigh and closing his eyes, he prepared himself to insult them this time, but it wasn’t one of their voices he heard. 

“Brother.”

Fuck. Mattheo’s eyes snapped open, and he jumped on his bed, and at the same time turning his head so quickly he could have hurt himself. Taller and of stronger structure, Tom was standing near the door, his dark curls perfectly styled contrasting with Mattheo’s messy hair, and dressed in an all black suit. 

As if he was waking up from a long, deep sleep, Mattheo’s mind was not perfectly aware, and got used to the idea of Tom actually being here. Looking up at him, Mattheo noticed his elder brother looked paler than usual, and there was something strange about his eyes. 

“They called you,” Mattheo managed to say.

“They did. Their message came late, however, as I was…busy, in the north.” 

In other circumstances, Mattheo might have asked Tom what he meant by that - he never really knew what his brother was up to ever since the latter left Hogwarts last year - but, now, he just slightly nodded in answer. 

“Dumbledore told me,” Tom continued, his tone now sounding more febrile and softer, “that y/n was… dead.”

The last three words hit Mattheo like a thousand knives in the heart, but they also for some reason finished to convince his mind that it really did happen. 

“The two Aurors told me you did it.” 

“I didn’t,” Mattheo answered immediately, the defensive tone and behavior he had been having for the last two days around the Aurors coming back. 

“I know. Though I wish to know what really happened.” 

Sighing and his eyes on the ground, Mattheo explained everything that happened that night, from spending an usual night with y/n in her room - he saw a small grimace on Tom’s face for a small second - to going for a smoke with Theo.

“Then on my way back, I was walking by the courtyard when I saw her…her, I…I saw her body.”

Mattheo then raised his gaze, and saw that Tom’s body and face had stiffen, and one of his fists was now closed. A year ago, this reaction from Tom upon hearing about y/n would have angered Mattheo deeply, but now, he only felt some annoyance which surprisingly disappeared quickly.  

“There was no round around?” Tom asked. “No sign of anybody?” 

Mattheo shook his head negatively. 

“Who do you think might have done it?” Tom questioned in a sharper tone. 

“I don’t know. She only had friends. Teachers liked her. Her family is normal…” 

“Try to think, Mattheo,” Tom cut off coldly, growing impatient, “try to remember a detail, a conversation y/n had with someone…”

“I don’t know!” Mattheo said louder. “I haven’t been able to think ever since I had her corpse in my arms!” 

Tom had a very small sigh. “Then maybe y/n didn’t tell you about it. Do you think her friends might know something?" 

“Her friends never liked me much,” Mattheo had a bitter small laugh. “Well, except for Pansy.” 

“I see. I’ll have to ask them some questions, then.” Tom said. And I could as well have searched her dorm for a clue, but I heard her family already took her belongings and cleared her room,” he added in annoyance.

Mattheo frowned. “Her family? Her family is already here?”

“Yes. It’s been two days, they had to take her body,” Tom answered, his voice a bit febrile. “I suppose the… funeral will be held soon.”  

It was already unbearably hard enough for his mind to understand the idea that y/n was dead and would never come back, but to imagine her immobile body in a casket, alone in the darkness and the coldness of the silent underneath the ground…No, fucking no, that was something he could not and could never handle. When he looked at Tom again, Mattheo saw him as lost in thought, as if he felt the same way. And he knew he did. 

“Do you believe she could have had some sort of stalker or admirer?” Tom questioned after a moment of silence. 

“You mean, other than you?”

Tom looked at him, now angered but a bit surprised as well. 

“Unbelievable. y/n is dead and you’re still thinking about this?” 

Mattheo didn’t answer. Of course that was stupid to think about what happened last year, especially now. Last year, between Umbridge’s tyranny and the suspicion that had raised around Mattheo and Tom now that their father was back, something Mattheo never imagined happened: Tom, the cold and quiet Tom who had never looked at a girl before, had fallen in love. Mattheo had been amused at the idea, and had been curious to know who the lucky girl was, despite the whole thing happening in front of his eyes. One day, a very surprised y/n had come to him, saying Tom had asked to talk to her in private and had confessed to her that his heart, which all thought cold and frozen, had fallen for her. Angry as he never had been in his life and only listening to the part of himself which was telling him that his brother wanted to steal everything from him, Mattheo had immediately went to see Tom and a big fight had followed, and it would have probably became physical if Tom hadn’t remain his calm self, although greatly annoyed at Mattheo’s shouting, and his friends holding him back just in case. y/n , sweet, innocent y/n had felt guilty despite not being at fault, and later Mattheo had realized that it was likely her fondness and compassion for Tom, who was “always so alone” which had made his older brother think he and y/n might have a chance. Mattheo had never been mad at y/n, but, unable to not be angry at Tom and unable to not think that Tom wanted y/n just because she was with him, his cordial relationship with Tom had been broken, and they never had any contact after Tom graduated. But with time, Mattheo had realized he understood Tom. After all, y/n was beautiful and had a heart of gold, and people were drawn to her and her warmness, kindness and natural charm. It wasn’t even a surprise that someone like Tom, cold and silent, would fall for her despite being as different as can be. But while also thinking about this, he had then remembered all the times he had seen Tom and y/n speaking, studying, or just the kind things he would sometimes tell her, and it had made sense.

“I know they found your wand. You mentioned you lost it,” Tom said suddenly. “Do you have any idea where that might have happened?”

“No,” Mattheo said, looking at the ground. “I just know I lost it after class.”

“Did you tell anyone?”

“y/n.”

“Are you sure you don’t remember any details? Anything that could help?” 

“I already told you no,” Mattheo said with annoyance. 

He tried to think hard about it, though, trying to remember his walk from y/n’s dorm to the dark corner of the castle where he met Theo, and remembered it overall - the empty corridors, making sure nobody, especially a teacher, wouldn’t see him. He then tried to remember every detail of the way back. He tried hard, forcing his mind to bring itself back to this moment, but to his great confusion, he didn’t remember anything. It was as if, one moment, he was walking away from Theo, and the other, he was walking by the courtyard, seeing his biggest nightmare coming true. 

“I don’t remember anything from my way back to her dorm,” Mattheo simply said. 

“What do you mean?”

“Like I said, I don’t remember anything between leaving Theo and seeing h…her body.” The last two words still had a hard time leaving his mouth. Suddenly, he had a thought, maybe the most clever and useful thought he had ever since he had been brought here. 

“Maybe you losing your wand and your memory somehow disappearing are linked,” Tom stated, and Mattheo nodded. “Did anybody here do some strange things or had a strange behavior this year?” 

Mattheo thought, and quickly had an idea.

“I heard Harry speaking with his friends once. He said Draco was up to something, and, well, I noticed he’s been acting strangely since september.”

Tom remained silent, and acquiesced. 

“Then I shall have a conversation with our cousin.”

They opened the door after Tom knocked once, and the two Aurors were still here waiting for him when he left the room. He ignored them and started walking down the small corridor, but they apparently were not willing to do the same. 

“Did he tell you anything?” one of the Aurors asked, full of curiosity, trying to keep up with Tom’s quick and long footsteps. 

Not bothered, Tom did not even give him an answer. 

“Well?” the other insisted. 

“No, he did not,” Tom answered this time, but only to get rid of them. “He already told you he was innocent. There was no more he had to say. Just like I have nothing to say to you.”

It worked, and the Auroras stopped following him. He left their outraged and suspicious gazes behind his back, but to say he didn’t care was an understatement. It was already the end of the afternoon, and classes just finished. Tom, ignoring the surprised looks of the crowds of students, walked to Snape’s class, and found him here sitting behind his desk. His former professor raised his eyes, and though he didn’t show it, Tom knew Snape was surprised to see him at Hogwarts. 

“Snape.”

“Mr. Riddle.” 

“I wish to talk with a few of your students. Be kind to bring them here.”

“And may I ask why you wish to talk to them?”

“If I thought it concerned you, I would willingly tell you,” Tom responded. “Now, Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkison and Daphne Greengrass.”

Snape looked at him, but did not say a word. Minutes later, only two silhouettes entered Snape’s dark greenish class. The two girls exchanged a curious look upon seeing Tom.

“Tom?” Pansy Parkinson asked. She had always been somehow unafraid of him, and Tom respected that fact. “What are you doing here?” 

“I’m here to help my brother.” 

Parkison raised her eyebrows with genuine surprise. “You think he’s innocent?” 

Tom nodded. “I know you two ladies were y/n’s closest friends. I need you to tell me if she had anyone who wished to do her harm.” 

Pansy shook her head and had a slight sigh, “we already told the Aurors everything.”

Daphne nodded, “y/n had no enemies. Well,” she added with a false smile, “at least that’s what we thought until her own boyfriend turned out to be one..” 

“Mattheo is innocent,” Tom retorted right away. 

Pansy chuckled bitterly, “Don’t make me laugh, Riddle. Everyone in school knows how they found his wand near her body, and how the last spell it cast was the killing curse. He did kill our friend, and I hope he will rot in Azkaban for the rest of his days.”

Tom remained silent, ignoring his growing annoyance, and instead focused his mind on entering Parkison’s. He saw her in Daphne’s arms, probably crying over y/n’s death, and going back to before that event, he saw her this time laughing with Daphne and y/n, and his heart - if it was still there - skipped a beat. Seeing her full of life, laughing, when he knew she would never laugh again was almost too much to bear. He continued inspecting Parkison’s memory, and when he couldn’t find anything, did the same thing to Greengrass. He didn’t find anything new inside her mind, and had a hard time not showing his displeasure. He had entered their minds and saw their memories so quickly that they didn’t even notice what he did. 

“Where is my cousin?” Tom finally asked, quickly looking at Snape.

“Draco?” Parkinson asked. “Well, we saw him in class, but…”

“He left right after the last one. Maybe he’s in the common room, or maybe his dorm?” 

Tom wanted to ask if, like Mattheo, they thought Draco had been acting weirdly, but wouldn’t do that in Snape’s presence. He gestured for the two girls to go, and turned back towards Snape. 

“If I don’t find who murdered y/n and exonerate my brother before I leave Hogwarts, I suggest you continue looking for the murderer. Because, as you well know, Severus, my wrath is nothing compared to his.”

Not waiting for Snape’s answer, Tom left the room. He directly went for the dungeons, where the Slytherin common room was. Some friends of Mattheo were here, sitting on some of the couches - Berkshire with his innocent face, Nott always acting as if he had no care in the world and Zabini who never smiled - and they immediately came to him when they saw him. 

“Tom?” Nott asked. “You’re here to help Mattheo, right?” 

“Did you find anything?” Berkshire asked. 

“I need to speak to my cousin. Where is he?”

“We don’t know,” Zabini shrugged. “I looked in our dorm, he’s not here.”

Tom decided to go check the room himself, and walked in its direction. As Zabini said, there was no one here. The room was well ordered, full of expensive things both Zabini and Draco’s parents had bought and of Slytherin decoration, but Tom looked into it, he didn’t find anything. His patience growing thin, Tom quickly left the room, and, ignoring Mattheo’s friends and their questions, left the common room. Walking through the corridors, he only met a few much younger students who did not dare to look at him for too long until he saw three silhouettes talking softly.

“Potter.”

The latter turned immediately, but didn’t seem that surprised to see him, and they walked closer to each other.

“My brother told me you found Draco’s behavior strange. Why?”

“We saw him at Borgin & Burke with his mother. They seemed like they didn’t want people to know they were here. Sometimes, he disappears and doesn’t come to class. He’s always quiet, and you never see him outside of class.”

“And pray tell, what’s your theory?”

Potter stared at him, and as Tom expected, didn’t say anything.

“Come on, Potter. You’re smarter than most people give you credit for.”

“Well, I definitely wouldn’t be smart if I told you what I thought.”

Tom inclined his head, squinting his eyes. “So it has to do with my father. You believe he’s a Death Eater, don’t you?”

Potter’s eyes hardening was enough for Tom to know he was right.

It wasn’t common for Tom’s father to pick followers that young, but if it was indeed true, Tom was not surprised. Either his father had expected Draco to replace Tom’s uncle Lucius, or he was forced to. I know my cousin. He may be arrogant and spoiled, but he doesn’t have the stomach to be a Death Eater. Not for long, anyway.

“I see,” Tom continued. “And where do you think he goes when he disappears?”

Potter looked at him, hesitating before giving an answer. “I can’t be sure, but…the Room of Requirement makes sense.” 

And with that, Tom turned his heels and went to the seventh floor of the castle. He knew it was going to be hard, as that room could appear anywhere, but he wasn’t going to give in. In a long, empty corridor, he closed his eyes, and walked past a large naked wall three times. I need to find what Draco has been up to. I need to find who killed y/n. Doing his best to shut the pain that thinking about y/n brought him, he walked past the wall for several minutes, but when he stopped his pace and opened his eyes, the wall was still naked. Growing angry, he all of a sudden heard footsteps breaking the silence. He focused, and almost instantly knew who it was. Draco. Putting himself against the wall, Tom waited barely a minute, and immediately grabbed Draco, who, as expected, tried to resist.

“Let me go!”

“Quiet.”

Draco immediately stopped moving, and, upon seeing who had grabbed his arm, frowned.

“Tom?” 

Tom immediately saw that Draco’s face was paler, looking even a bit gray, and thinner than usual, and that he had dark bags under his eyes. 

“Greetings, cousin.” Tom said with calm and a smile. “I have a few questions to ask you, if you don’t mind.” 

Draco started to struggle again, but Tom took out his wand, pointing it on his cousin’s chin. 

“Do not make me do something I will not regret. It is really simple, cousin. You either answer my questions, or I will get them out of you. Do we understand each other?” 

Draco remained silent, but Tom knew he understood. 

“Do you know who killed y/n?” 

“No!”

“Do you know who might have done it?”

“No! Let me go, now, or I’ll-”

“Do what?” Tom said, amused. “Please, pray tell.”

Draco again didn’t say a word, only giving him a death stare. Despite allegations of Draco acting weirdly and his weaker look, Tom knew it didn’t mean Draco had anything to do with y/n’s murder - the word was enough to almost wreck havoc. However, despite Draco’s denial, Tom felt something was off. Just like he did with y/n’s friends, Tom entered Draco’s mind, but found it way harder. Immediately understanding why, Tom smiled.

“I see my mother taught you Legilimency. I expected better, though.”

Not wasting another second, Tom pointed at Draco’s forehead. At first, he was shown memories from Draco’s first years here, bullying students with his friends, then darker, unhappier memories with his parents and Tom and Mattheo’s mother at Malfoy Manor, succeeded at last by what really interested Tom. He suddenly saw his father, probably furious after Uncle Lucius failed the disaster at the Ministry, and then had a memory of Draco inside the Room of Requirement - as Potter had guessed - standing in front of what Tom knew was a Vanishing Cabinet. The whole scenery disappeared, and instead there was the boys’ restroom, with Draco sitting on the ground with his face in his hands, crying. Next, he was back to Malfoy Manor, standing in front of both Tom’s parents.

“My sons have both been a disappointment, a great disappointment,” Tom’s father said calmly. “I still hold hope for Tom, but as for Mattheo…If I don’t act quickly, he will be out of reach forever. You said there was a girl at Hogwarts that he ‘loves’.”

Tom felt his heart beat faster, and his breath became short. 

“Well,” his father continued, “along with the other task you have been given, Draco, you will kill that girl. If you don’t, I’ll kill your mother and then you.” 

If he thought Dumbledore telling him of y/n’s death broke his heart, learning it was his father who ordered it broke his soul. But he had barely time to process that memory that another came, bringing him back to Hogwarts. Draco was standing against a wall in an empty corridor. Tom heard voices from afar, and after a moment, saw his own brother. Jumping behind him, Draco pointed his wand at the back of Mattheo’s head.

“Impero.”

Mattheo took his wand out of his robe and Draco grabbed it. Mattheo didn’t move as Draco went back to the spot he was hiding it, and pointed once again his wand at Mattheo.

“Obliviate.”

A few seconds later, Mattheo slightly shook his head and continued walking, eventually disappearing. The next memory happened at night, and Draco was once again hiding, this time in a corridor which led to the courtyard, apparently waiting for someone. But Tom didn’t even have to guess who, because it was as if his whole being knew who was coming and what was going to happen. He didn’t want to look, didn’t want to hear, but his eyes refused to look away or to close themselves. He heard familiar footsteps, and suddenly, y/n appeared; walking rather quickly, and she took a glance at the darkness of the courtyard. Tom saw Draco’s hand shaking as he pointed Mattheo’s wand at y/n and, after hesitating for a short moment, opened his mouth.

“Avada Kedavra.”

Despite his whole being screaming at him to look away, Tom turned to y/n and saw her looking at the green light coming to her right and gasping before the spell hit her, and her body hit the ground. Draco closed his eyes, and a tear ran down his cheek. Taking his own hand, Draco moved it, and y/n body started levitating, heading for the courtyard, before eventually lowering itself to the ground. Tom stayed here, looking at her corpse, wanting to scream for the first time in his life. He didn’t know how long he stared at him, his very soul in pain, but it must not have been for long, because when he pulled himself together, Draco was still here, and he heard a familiar voice.

“y/n?”

Mattheo was here now, close to her body. He kneeled near her, taking her into his arms, calling for her, asking her if she could hear him, eventually crying, screaming for her to come back. Draco once again shed a tear, and took out both his wand and Mattheo’s. He made Mattheo’s wand float to fall down near Mattheo. Wiping away his tears, Draco tried to look normal, started walking away, and thus his memory was over. Tom was brought back to reality, to the corridor where he was holding Draco - y/n’s murderer, the one who had taken his only chance of happiness from him. If it was another person who had been killed, Tom might have understood why the murderer did it and even maybe felt compassion as he knew how his father was, but it was y/n, and it took everything in Tom to not torture Draco in ways that would have make his father happy. Draco tried to fight Tom’s grasp again, but this time, Tom took the opportunity to answer the last question he had on his mind. He rolled up Draco’s left sleeve, and saw the Dark Mark. Potter was right, after all, was all that he thought.

“It was Draco.”

Mattheo looked at his brother, confused.

“What? Draco did what?”

Tom looked back at him. “He killed y/n. I saw it. In his mind. Our father told him to.  He put you under the Imperius curse to take your wand, used it to kill her, and put it next to you after killing her.”

Mattheo tried to grasp the idea, but simply couldn’t. Draco, his vain cousin, spoiled and loved by his parents like neither him or Tom had been? 

“He’s a Death Eater,” Tom added with no emotion. “He has the mark. He killed her to save both his and his mother’s lives. I do think he didn’t want to do it. He cried a bit.” 

Mattheo gulped. “Did she…Did she see him? 

But Tom knew what his real questions were: did y/n see death coming? Was she scared? Did she scream for help, for anyone - for him, to come and save her? 

Tom became pale, and for the second time in his life, Mattheo saw that his brother’s eyes were sad. 

“No. She only saw the spell for a quick second before she…”

Mattheo closed his eyes, and nodded. One half of him wanted to see it with his own eyes, wanted to see her last moments, where he should have been here to save her, but the other half refused to, convinced he would turn into a mad man if he saw her dying. Mattheo felt warm tears leave his eyes and roll down his cheeks. 

“She was all I had,” he said, his voice hoarse. 

“I know,” Tom said, staring at the wall on his left. “She was all I had, too.”

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[restinslices]

Liar

Druskelle!Matthias Helvar x Heartrender!WIfe!Reader Word count: 2347 Summary: You've kept being a Grisha secret from your husband Matthias Helvar, but what happens when he finds out? Y/N - Your name D/N - Daughter name

If it hadn’t been for two big reasons, you’d like to think you’d have left Fjerda.

The ice, the cold, the anti Grisha talk. Living in Fjerda was nerve wracking, causing you to be hypervigilant on everything you said or did. To say it was tiring, would be an understatement. Yet two people kept you in Fjerda; your husband Matthias Helvar and your daughter D/N Helvar. 

There were nights where you would toss and turn, your mind plaguing you with nightmares about Matthia finding out about you. Those nightmares never ended the same way. In one dream he’d kill you, the other you’d try to run away together, only for him to be killed. Sometimes you’d be caught instead. In the worst nightmares, it’d be your daughter who was caught and killed.

It’s not that you were afraid of Matthias. You feared him finding out because you didn’t want to lose him. Either from him leaving you, or the other Druskelle killing him.

While you were awake though, you fortunately had a friend. A woman named Elise, who lived a few houses down and was also a Grisha. A tidemaker to be more specific. 

When night fell and darkness covered you both, you two would become a particular thorn in the Druskelle’s sides. Elise would use her tidemaker abilities to create harsh waves that would knock over the boats before they could depart, or icicles that pierced the bottom of the boats, while you would free any Grisha the Druskelle decided to make a “public example” out of. That among other things caused the Druskelle to have a hit out on both of you, but since you were never caught, it was like trying to capture a shadow. 

“I know that I’m right”, Elise said. You rolled your eyes. This was the third time she brought up the possibility of her son, Erik, liking your daughter.

“They’re six Elise”

“I knew what I wanted at six! Plus, Erik gave his scarf to her. Isn’t that proof?”

“No. He noticed she was cold and he was nice”. Elise waved dismissively and went to open her mouth, but luckily Matthias emerged from the back. You had to admit, if you hadn’t known Matthias, you’d be startled by his build. He once told you that he was the tallest and biggest kid amongst the Drukelle, and you never doubted it. Even now, he was taller and bigger than most of the men you saw walking around. He absolutely terrified Elise when she first saw him, and you always brought it up when you wanted a good laugh. 

“They’re too young to date” he said simply before he placed a kiss on your cheek. “They should wait till they’re older and he can court her properly”

You spoke before Elise could make a sarcastic remark, “where are you off to?”

“Boating docks. We’ll be taking off before the week is done, and we have to stay alert”. You fought against the urge to shoot a glance at the woman sitting next to you. Matthias mistook you anxious about being caught for anxiousness about his safety. He rubbed your cheek lightly with his thumb and looked at you with soft eyes, “I’ll be ok”.

You nodded in understanding and off he went, not knowing he was watching out for you. 

~~~

You peered out your window, watching the sun start to go down. You had told the kids to be home at six bells. Foolish of you to think they’d actually listen when you weren’t watching them. 

“I’m gonna start looking for them”, you announced as you threw your coat on. Your hand hovered over the doorknob, before suddenly it was thrown open. 

Erik stood in the doorway, eyes wide, mouth opening and closing like a fish taken out of the water. His left sleeve was completely wet, and you couldn’t help but notice that your daughter was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s-”

“W-we were playing on the lake and… and… and i-it’s not my fault!”

“What isn’t your fault?”

“The ice cracked! I tried to pull her out but she kept moving!”.

Your heart sunk, your breath caught in your throat. Fjerda was always freezing, and who knew how long Erik had waited before he finally came to get both of you. 

It was one of those moments where you mentally blacked out, only fully gaining consciousness when all three of you were approaching the lake. Your feet moved faster when you noticed the hole she undoubtedly fell in. Shouts telling you to slow down fell on deaf ears as you kept running. You approached the hole, hoping maybe she was close by, but she wasn’t. You kneeled, hoping being closer to the ice would help you spot her.

You heard shuffling and panting behind you. “I told Erik to get Matthias. Do you see her?”

“Do you see her in my arms?”, you snapped unintentionally, too preoccupied to care about how harsh that sounded. 

You got back to your feet and overlapped your fingers over each other, making a triangle shape.

“Y/N anyone could see!”. You ignored her words and kept trying to feel for the familiar heartbeat.

You felt a heartbeat, but it did nothing to ease your worries when you realized how slow and faint it was. You followed it, the heartbeat leading a while away from the initial hole in the ice. 

“Elise!”, you called when you saw the familiar hair color of your daughter and her bright colored jacket. Your back stayed to Elise, afraid if you took your eyes off your daughter that she would float away again.

The ice above her cracked before it erupted, it being moved with ease. You silently said a prayer to any higher power that was listening, and thanked them for giving you a tidemaker as a friend. 

You dropped down, pulled the young girl up and laid her on the ice. Your hands went over her heart, once again ignoring the protests coming from the woman behind you. It wasn’t her child dying. It was yours.

“Come on… come on…”, you mumbled. 

You kept muttering encouraging words under your breath, as if all she needed was a good push. You kept telling her to wake up, only letting yourself let out a breath of relief when her eyes opened and she coughed up water. You pulled her up and patted her back, your own heartbeat still not slowing down. You slipped off her jacket and replaced it with your own, your own arms now freezing, but your own freezing body was the least of your concerns. 

You heard more footsteps and looked up, seeing Matthias approaching. He kneeled down, scooping her in his arms and sighing, “Let’s get her inside and get her warm. She’s freezing”.

~~~

Your heartbeat only slowed down when you laid your daughter down to sleep. You watched over her for a while, monitoring her heartbeat. You didn’t know what Matthias was doing. He started acting strange once you got home. Maybe it was shock. You couldn’t tell him how to process the near death experience of his only child.

You left your daughter’s room and made your way to your own bedroom, but your eyebrows furrowed when you noticed Matthias was nowhere to be seen. You checked the bathroom, living room and kitchen, but Matthias wasn’t there. You stepped outside, finally seeing Matthias outside standing, eyes up to the sky. 

You made your way to his side, “how long have you been out here?”. Matthias didn’t respond. You looked up at the stars like he was, “were you speaking to Djel?”.

He nodded. “I was asking for guidance and forgiveness”.

You frowned. Forgiveness for what? For not predicting what happened today? Who could have? It was an accident. A terrible accident, but an accident. You weren’t even angry at Erik or Elise.

“Today was not your fault Matthias. You don’t need to ask for forgiveness”.

Matthias once again didn’t respond. Instead, he walked back into the house. You followed him, calling his name, but getting nothing in return. You grabbed his arm, noticing when he flinched and took a deep breath.

“I know you’re scared because of what happened today. I am too, but don’t push me away. Talk to me-”

“Stop”, he said firmly. He turned to face you, and for the first time ever, he didn’t look at you with softness and love or patience and caring. His eyes were harsh, his eyes now reminding you of a storm instead of the calm sea. “How’d you find her? That’s not the hole she fell in”.

“No one knows where she fell. We weren’t there”.

“Erik was, and he said you weren’t where D/N fell. So, how’d you find her?”.

“I looked around”, you half lied. You had been looking around… just with a little help. “I saw her hair and jacket”.

“Why was there another hole?”

“It was already there”, you lied once again but Matthias didn’t look convinced. “Why… Why are you asking me this?”, you asked. You tried your best to remain calm, hoping he hadn’t seen anything, and if he did you were hoping you could lie your way out of it. You couldn’t let your nightmares come true.

“You’re lying”.

“I’m not”.

“I saw you! I saw your hands over her!”. You unintentionally backed away when his voice rose. He didn’t seem as soft and caring as he usually was. You tried to think quickly. 

“I-I was giving her CPR. There was water in her lungs, I wasn’t just gonna wait for a doctor-”

“I saw Elise break and move the ice without touching it! I saw you with your hands over D/N! Why are you still lying to me?!”.

You went silent. You couldn’t think of a lie out of this. You tried, you really did, but how could you explain that?

“You’re a liar”.

“Matthias”

“It all makes sense. What’s been happening recently. Ships wrecked, sudden bad waves, Drusje escaping, Druskelle being disoriented”, he took a pause, his eyes never getting softer “it was you two. And that’s why you kept telling me to stop being a Druskelle”.

“I…”, you thought for a moment, trying to find a good response. “I wanted to tell you but I didn’t wanna lose you-”, Matthias turned away but you kept talking, your words coming out rushed “I love and care for you so much and Matthias, Grisha are not bad people, despite what you’ve been taught”.

“Is D/N a witch?”

“Grisha are not witches and I don’t know. I didn’t think to test her yet”. Silence filled the room before Matthias spoke up again, 

“But she could be”

You moved to be in front of him, “she’s still our daughter-”

“She’s your daughter”.

You froze. All of a sudden the girl he cared for since she was a newborn, the girl he told bedtime stories to and let sleep next to him when she had a nightmare, was no longer his daughter?

“Don’t do this. She’s still your daughter. I’m still your wife!”, you pleaded. Your hands raised to cup his face but he backed away. You looked into his eyes, trying to read what he was feeling. It didn’t work. He had become a hard wall, unwilling to budge. “I love you and you love me”.

“None of this was real. This was your witchcraft. You made me fall in love with you!”

“You know that’s not true!”, you almost yelled. “Everything between us is real! I married you because I love you! I had your child because I love you! I didn’t make you fall in love with me, that’s not even how my power works!”

“You’re a witch who can boil blood and stop a pulse! Who knows what else you can do?!”

“I would NEVER do that to you or anyone else even if I could!”. You stepped closer to him, but once again he stepped back. “You can’t possibly be that afraid of me”

“I’m not afraid of witches”

“You hate me”. You waited for Matthias to deny it. For him to pull you into a hug and say he’d hear you out, but neither came. You sighed, how could all of this change in a matter of hours? “You wanna hate me, but you don’t and you know you don’t”.

Matthias looked away from you. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then opened his eyes again. He didn’t look back at you though. “I have to report you and Elise”.

You shook your head, “no you don’t!”. Your hands gripped his arms, sorrow and agony behind your words, “Matthias please!”.

Matthias looked down at you, “I’ll wait until half bell. After that, we’ll be looking for all of you”.

All of you.

You, Elise, Erik, your daughter.

When Matthias hadn’t budged, you ran to your daughter’s room. You quickly got her dressed and threw a coat over her tiny frame. She kept asking questions and rubbing her eyes, but you couldn’t spare any time to answer them. 

What really broke your heart though, is when she saw Matthias. She slipped from your grasp and made her way to him, “where are we going?”. Matthias picked her up and held her, and her arms and legs wrapped around him. Her head falling in the crook of his neck. You had hoped that maybe he changed his mind, but you guessed picking her up and comforting her was like a reflex, because once he seemed to realize what he was doing, he put her down and stepped away from her. 

You picked her up, ignoring her confused murmurs and spared Matthias one last glance before you left. You ran over to Elise’s house, telling her of the news. Like you, she had to wake up her child, and dress him quickly. You two knew you couldn’t go to the boat harbor, so you started on foot to the Ravkan border, the cold air freezing the tears on your face.

A/N: my bad if there's mistakes, I'm sick and this screen is hurting my eyes. Also in the books at least, they use bells instead of like, "6pm" but anyway-. I don't know if I wanna make a part 2 or leave this as a stand alone. Stay tuned to see if this sickness takes me out.

[notesfromthepalace]

Don't Be Jenny from the BLOCK!

No tea no shade to Jen, that's my sister, I LOVE HER!

When I say "don't be Jenny from the block" - what I am referring to is dating someone from your neighborhood, your town, you high school, and if you've glowed up after college, I would say extend that to anyone you've met before the age of 23.

In the words of Joseline Hernandez (I'll explain why I love her in another post), don't be a "$2 hoe".

I repeat, DON'T BE A $2 HOE!

Now, let's get into some things.

You today, in your mid 20s, should be the best version of yourself:

The finest

Prettiest

Skin Glowing

Hair always done

Nails done

Just That Girl, Okay?!

Whether I am being casual or saditty, I am That Girl, ten toes down.

Do you know why I choose to show up as That Girl no matter what?

Because I remember when I was this girl:

Now, to be clear I have had NO cosmetic procedures. I just grew up, slimmed down, filled up in the right spots, figured out what to do with my hair and skin care, etc. There's really nothing wrong with me in the above photo except for how I felt about myself. I thought I was ugly so my confidence was low, and I did not think I was deserving of love or the finer things in life.

Naturally, the guys around me treated me how I felt about myself.

But when I believed that I was all that and a bag of chips, I definitely gave that in my aura and appearance, but I still entertained a childhood love. I don't doubt that he loved me but he treated me as the girl in the green dress and would get annoyed when I demanded better.

But you know what, it's not his fault. He was treating me like the $2 Hoe he meant in the sixth grade - and not because I was actually a $2 hoe, but when I use that term, I mean a person who feels like they are less then.

If he had met me today, he probably would have admired me from a distance because he would've knew he could not provide what I require. But because he met me in another life chilllllle, he thought yesterday's price was today's price, but it wasn't - hints why I finally dumped him.

Every person I met after the age of 23 is completely different from people I met in my adolescent years. This isn't tea or shade to my close girlfriends, but as you get older and your values change, you realize that the conversations you are having in new circles feels more natural because the older conversations are beneath you.

This whole $2 hoe thing applies not only to dating, but your friends and the conversations you entertain as well - it's like a frequency you admit, a low vibrational frequency.

For example: I have friends who still "roster date" - meaning they have a routine/rotation of men that they go out with - which is their prerogative. I am a happily monogamous woman who is on her way to engagement and soon there after, marriage.

mon amour

There are conversations that I don't want to have anymore. I don't want to hear how you feel played by the man you knew was married, or how John and Joe found out about each other, etc.

The conversations now should be about investing, skin care regiments and medical spa recommendations, marriage, children, family, whether to be a stay at home mom or to pursue careers, and how to go about being mothers, wives and financially comfortable, how to support our future husbands: these are the conversations that peak my interest.

I left the block about five years ago. Once in a blue, I go back home to visit family and get my hair done, but I don't make a big deal or announcement about my arrival because I am not trying to invite the rift raft that comes with it.

The block is no longer my Ohana.

I have created my own.

Sometimes leaving home and cutting off old friends and leaving romances from our early years sounds scary, but my dear, you will not regret it.

Now, my girlfriends that I have known for over 10+ years know I'm not talking about them because we all still talk. But is there some distance between some of my old girlfriends and I?

Absolutely.

And that's okay. You're real friends will understand that because we're all growing and changing. It's called evolution.

Evolve

Grow

Be that girl.

And if someone tries to make you feel bad for that, especially a man: unfollow, block, throw away everything that person gave to you, sever the soul tie.

As always ladies,

God is King

Be beautiful.

With love,

Sarah Chanel

[landofourwins]

Really appreciate the essay, thank you so much for giving me your time.

I may have time admit that since I am Italian I initially felt like a “need”(?) to cheer for Charles, and at the start it almost also worked fine. I was like, yuppie Ferrari yeah, and then I just let myself be a little mire unbiased and realised that I just- his racing didn’t really do anything to me.

I looked at Carlos, I felt like the literal rainbow could shine out of his car when he was driving because oh God! The simplest explanation as to why I love Carlos is that he is such an intelligent and strategical driver that for a silly girl like me who has some difficulties with getting a hang on the technical part of F1 he is the best driver to understand what it actually means to race.

I can’t tell you if that front wing design is good or bad for the life of me, but I can tell you with certainty that Carlos flipping through a pantone magazine to decide how much pressure he should put on his brakes and tyres in Silverstone 2024 is one of the hottest things I have ever seen.

Charles doesn’t give me that, I can objectively see that he is a tremendously talented driver but I think he relies too much on that without realising that F1 isn’t just Ferrari’s pitwall making decisions for him. When he said “I’m going to start thinking for myself” my first thought was that, don’t worry Charles, Ferrari is already thinking about you and just you, the real problem is that you should think “by yourself” which is different.

This year Lando started giving me the same feeling as Carlos, which is the reason why I started liking him so much. And to be fair, I feel much more comfortable in blogs dedicated to Carlos/Lando than blogs dedicated to Charles.

The latter always look like there must be a divine intervention of some sorts, while I prefer the critical thinking, I prefer taking about the strategies and reading the data and thinking about what could’ve been done in millions hypothetical scenarios.

I literally saw someone say that Charles got angry at Carlos after the race because he wanted a possibility to stay closer on the track to Max(?).

Like, what the hell?

Babe this is a sport, it’s not yandere simulator.

So, again, your blog makes me feel comfortable and happy and so thank you for your answer.

Even if I am writing in anon I want to specify that J am not completely against Charles, I am against the santification of Charles and lestappen, I am against the hate other drivers get because of Charles, I am against Charles when his actions and words become disrespectful to other drivers or even his own team mechanics, something that Lando never did and yet he is being accused of.

You could say anything about Lando, that perhaps some of his answers were immature or that he should’ve thought twice before speaking, alright. But he always held Max with high respect (he said it a billion times, and Max is still so proud of him and talks good about him so I don’t see why we shouldn’t believe it) and he always thanked his team and brought the fault to himself even when it wasn’t his own (e.g. Hungary).

Charles… well, this last weekend speaks for itself.

Thank you ❤️ (sorry for the essay 😭)

no thank YOU for letting me write an essay and yap my heart out!!

i didn't have anything like that, the last time a driver from my country raced was before i was even born, so like yeah. here it's a huge toss up of fans, like of course mainly ferrari, merc, mclaren and red bull.

the men mostly red bull. the young people mclaren. the old white duded ferrari. and merc some other older but not young people. but yeah, most people i've met (the three f1 fans at my school, my cousins and such) are mclaren fans strangely enough.

shit i'm yapping again sorry!! but i do understand feeling the need to cheer for him giving you're italian!!

i'm not saying charles is a bad driver, but like there are better people for sure (ahem carlos). but like when i got into the sport i also like tried to make myself like charles (and lestappen), but like as time went on i just couldn't.

yes!! carlos appreciation!! i stand by the opinion that no matter who ferrari dropped, they would have been in the shit. but carlos, he's just got something special that few others have.

carlos is definitely an amazing driver and just like overall: smart, if that makes sense.

i have really seen only one lando/carlos blog that's isn't really amazing. but other than that, i'd say lando/carlos blogs are the more welcoming ones. i've talked about this with a friend multiple times, but we only pick fights when you say something about our driver, i'd say we mostly keep to ourselves (till i'm pissed and start instigating)

but i do agree, this little circle of tumblr lando specifically blogs have my heart, it's to me a community like no other. yapping again sorry!!

that reminds me of people trying to constantly bring lestappen shit onto track. "oh look how they fought they're so in love" no babes, no.

I LOVE THAT "this is a sport, not a yandere simulator" people absolutely need to start realizing that omfg, i love rpf as much as the next person. but let's look at a key word here fiction. it's not real. two drivers aren't fucking.

awww thank you for that, it makes me happy to know at least one person is comfortable on my blog 💕💕

i get that, but i am completely against sharl. i said this in a post once i think. but i liked sharl when i first got into the sport, then in spain (i think) he threw me off a bit. tried to ignore it. and i'll be honest here, i was happy when he won monza cause i was so pissed at oscar and i was like well if lando can't win it i don't fucking want oscar to, so yeah, i'll take a sharl win above that.

and then, good lordy, vegas. i feel i've said enough about that, but i just decided to fully put on my anti sharl cloak and go with it.

again, double standards!!

none of the drivers think twice before speaking. i know for a fact everyone on that grid has said worse shit than lando and NEVER were crucified for it.

this last weekend definitely does. and i'm happy his true colours finally showed.

no again, thank YOU!!! i love essays and please continue leaving them!! 💞💞

[writing-whump]

I don't chat or DM, but I'll ask a question to get to know your characters better. For the pack-three, how would each of them describe the others, if they were being totally transparent and honest? And how would the three brothers describe each other? I just love knowing OCs inner thoughts, if you don't mind sharing.

Lis! I'm still dying of curiosity to hear your Dylan and Rip thoughts! No pressure though :)

That is a very interesting, thank you for sending this!✨️

Seline:

Matthew has no idea how much respect she has for him tbh. For her, he is very disciplined and dedicated and she admires how much he works on his shadow despite the added difficulty. And she loves how kind he is despite the scary tough guy play he enjoys so much. If she was honest, she would admit that she used to think his shadow and anger issues are his own fault for not trying enough, but she has grown a lot more empathic and understanding of them since living with him.

As for Isaiah, this is the one man she feels internally and externally attracted to. Her friends were falling in love left and right, and she was like, where is it? Where is the big love? Why do I not feel anything? Where is the connection and conversation? She rationalizes her feelings too much. At uni, she started to admire professors, so older smart men that managed to be intellectually stimulating. Isaiah does manage this too, while being so so very kind, generous and empathetic to others. At first she thought he would be someone to let people walk over him, who doesn't respect himself enough, but she has since seen him in his powerful, magnetic and charming moments and his kind moments and his traumatic broken glimpses...and now admires and loves him a big deal. She would not admit for million years how much she is starting to rely on him or better, how much she yearns to rely on him but doesn't quite let herself yet.

Matthew:

Isaiah is like...this giant insane saint to him. Came out of nowhere, saved him once, twice, then five times, then wanted to help train him, gave him chances over and over. He doesn't get why he does it, but he feels like Isaiah let's him evolve and be his best self, and that best self is someone who can be an equal partner to him too. That's really Matthew's goal and wish in being Isaiah's second in the traditional pack roles, someone Isaiah can rely and count on, cause who will save the savior?

Seline is this stuck up little witch that rejected him on first sight, first loathing him, then being afraid of him...but she also makes such an effort to be more than just a witch by aiming for a research career, to be a worthwhile person that brings something to the world and not just her own pleasure and identity as a witch. She has no idea this is something he so deeply admires about her.

Isaiah:

Matthew is mishandled potential to him. Isaiah understands that training makes a wolf, and while his was way too brutal at the end, it was good at the start. He sees Matthew as a child completely failed by his caretakers, someone who deserved more, can do better and will always try his best. If only he knew how. Matthew would not be happy with this description, lol.

Seline is an etherical being to him. Isaiah wanted to find his purpose outside of being a wolf, when he first came into the pack and witches were flocking to him for his powerful shadow, so he stopped hoping there would be one really worth his time. He would describe her as someone who lives in several worlds at once, that doesn't need others for the complexity and beauty of what is in her mind. The fact she lives in her head too much sometimes, so she doesn't notice his secrets, doesn't push his trauma bottoms, doesn't insist on finding out the truth there and then immediately, are big things to him. She doesn't know this is something that he likes (and she would be more careful about it if she knew how much he is hiding). He is a secretive person by nature and nurture, and she is too tolerant and doesn't pry (though sometimes she maybe should).

Hector is...a very dynamic, very goal-oriented, focused and amazing child to him. He is someone of untapped potential, because Isaiah thinks he can do better and will be better, but isn't that far yet. Hector is just 2 years younger, but Isaiah keeps him out of stuff exactly for this reason - he feels too responsible, like he has to shield him, like Hector doesn't have the maturity to handle things yet, especially not if anything about Isaiah would seem imperfect. Isaiah doesn't think Hector forgives imperfection.

For Isaiah, Arnie is way too mature for his age. Knows and sees and understands way too much and isn't emotionally at the right place with it yet. He feels protective of him, because Arnie is too far ahead of his years, because he should be protected and nurtured more than he was.

Hector:

Isaiah is kind of a failed idol who is growing to be an idol after all, but in a different way. He is the perfect wolf, and the traitor of Hector's image of that perfection. He is wasted potential to him, someone who could have been powerful but decides every day to be weaker. (He doesn't yet quite accept nor respect Isaiah's way of life lol). But he is also someone to seek guidance and reassurance from, the only one Hector would actually listen to in certain matters. Hector wants to beat him more than anyone because he also admires him more than anyone (and it is very hard for Hector to respect people in the first place, he is way too judgmental and has one track mind of "strength is my biggest value" lol).

Arnie is for Hector what power without power looks like. The smartness, the boldness, the slyness, the ability to destroy people with words (I don't show this enough but in the RP this is quite the plot point). Hector is acutely aware of his loathing of humans, of Arnie's loathing of humans and of his own respect for Arnie's strength despite it. He is also protective as hell of this kid that would make such an excellent wolf, if only. Arnie is the biggest source of empathy for him.

Arnie:

Hector is a hero figure to him. Yeah he has some flaws, but they are forgettable and not worth mentioning to other people. In fact, Arnie feels like he is the only one close enough to Hector to understand the sheer capacity of Hector's awesomeness, because the sour, judgy, mean and unrelenting attitude is mostly what people get on the surface. But that's way too little. And the only one who can judge, insult or annoy him to be better is Arnie, obviously.

Isaiah is someone defined by gentlessness to Arnie. Isaiah was the main and only source of any mothering soothing reassurance in Arnie's childhood without his mother and an ignorant father. Isaiah was the only mature, understanding and patient one around. Isaiah is comfort to him in such a way that Arnie couldn't give up on the idea of him even estranged and apart from him. Maybe it was because he saw that side to Isaiah who is otherwise seen through his power and skill to everyone else that Arnie believed there had to be a good reason for Isaiah leaving and doing all those "unforgivable" things to the pack.

I went into bit of meta ramblings, because these aren't things the characters quite realise. If they had to answer like in an interview, would be a bit different again.

[ruminate88]

Feeling ugly after being brutally discarded: I feel so small

12/10/24 love bombed, objectified, betrayed

This older lady, I’ve known all my life, not gonna share her name. She’s an awesome, awesome lady, but one day I was running a brush through my hair and she saw me and she just stared at me and I looked at her and she said, “ You are so beautiful, brushing your beautiful hair” 😭😭😭😭😭😭

I was so uncomfortable because of the way I’ve been objectified so many times by men, especially by people that I loved so much that made me feel so stupid . I’ve lost so much weight without trying and everybody has been talking about it and asking me what’s wrong and why am I losing weight and they all wanna know and people tell me I’m too skinny and how that’s so bad but it wasn’t even my fault. 😔 You know, it’s not like I did this to myself on purpose. I acknowledge that I was completely unaware of toxic relationships and emotional abuse!! I trusted my exes and gave them all of me that I could even when they’re giving me nothing but pain!!

So far in this healing journey, it is mental and spiritual, but there is a physical side to it as well. I know the physical side probably won’t get better until the mental does, and the mental is dependent on the spiritual as well. It all works together, body soul and mind !!

I don’t hate my exes. I’m just disappointed at how they can brutally discard me 💔 I’m so disposable to them when they were extremely special to me… Starting with my ex Cody, oh my gosh, the way I felt for him hurts me so much. I can’t put into words how painful it was when he ghosted me and he’ll never care about me ❤️‍🩹 I’ve had to let that go and I’ve had to accept that he does not care …. the way he treated me when he love bombed me wow. I’ll never forget it. 😭

Then to spend a year with my ex Andrew after to think I’m falling in love with him, yet after I break up with him, he says that he pretended all his feelings the whole time to lead me on, and he already had a new girlfriend that he was posting all over Instagram 💀💀💀 and he never posted me on his Instagram once !!! plus he took her to the place that I thought he would take me one day 💔 and that sucks. I just felt incredibly stupid and embarrassed by him…. I wasn’t special to Andrew or Cody at all. I’ve had to face that all year and it’s been sooooo painful.

I know there is people that loves and cares about me but it’s just so hard anymore to believe it. Alsooooo, there is a man in my past named Jake that I’ve not wanted to write about as much because I don’t feel safe to write about him yet, but I dreamt about him last night and I never really wanted to be his girlfriend although we flirted a lot, but he was always a part of my life … he was basically a big bully to me, but also there was times I thought he was my good friend too, so that’s confusing and that’s just how it is with these men. They say one thing and then turn around and say another too and you never know how they really feel about you. 🤨😝 You can’t trust them ever. They make you feel delusional about everything. They’re basically gaslighting you. ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 They’re jealous and intimidated by you so they mentally and emotionally abuse you to make themselves feel better. Fudge … I loved them better than I loved myself. They never deserved it, my love was free but they scoffed at my love and thats THERE PROBLEM, not mine… I don’t regret them but I have to admit how they’ve impacted my self worth and opinions of myself. I have to accept what they’ve done and forgive ❤️‍🩹 (doesn’t seem I can ever forget tho)

[fairydust-stuff]

2ha thoughts spoilers

I hate that stupid flower of hared! Not only does it throw the idea of redemption off a cliff! But it makes Mo Ran so much more less interesting. Mo Ran is presented from the start with the most screwed up Madonna/ whore complex. Or Whatever the Chinese idea of this is. 

He files Shi Mei as this kind of pure creature comparing him to the moon. He cann’t even feel attraction to his crush and spends more time lusting after Chu Wanning his rape victim from a previous time line. Who he focuses on in both a sexual manner and was implied to have sexually targeted due to viewing him as a terrible person who pretended to be pure. 

Then there’s Song who was killed after revealing she had a nasty streak by being boiled alive. Who Mo Ran never forgives for her transgression of bad mouthing Chu Wanning. 

 Rong Jiu who is assaulted, beaten and ruined in retaliation for betraying Mo Ran. Even though their interactions were purely transactional. Both whom Mo ran admitted to being drawn too because they reminded him of Shi Mei. They are cast aside when they no longer play into a fantasy no longer fit the idea of the boy in his head. 

Also the only people Ran Mo can bring himself to have sex with are a prostitute, His teacher who he see’s as bad and Song a Butterfly Beauty Feast. All three of these people are far enough from being people in Mo Ran’s eyes that he can bring himself to lust after them. 

this actually strengthens the Chu Wanning X Mo ran dynamic because Chu is the first person who Mo Ran’s view of gets shaken to its core. Mo Ran learns that Chu wanning has complicated reasons for the things he does. Even if those things might be harmful to some. He’s forced to see Chu as a complex person and even after he finds out Chu is in fact made of wood. 

Mo still see’s him as a person. In fact Chu is the only one who becomes real to him enough to shatter to barrier between love/sex and invoke feelings of both in Mo ran allowing him to actually be in love. Chu shatters his shallow view makes Mo Ran realize he was wrong to treat a person as a object for his pleasure. 

Except the flower reveals its a dam lie! 

Instead of an examination of the ideas/ culture and experiences that might teach a  guy  who to value and who to use for sex. And how those values lead to things like lack of respect for sexual consent. Which makes way too much sense considering the world Mo Ran grew up in. Which encourages the consumption of others. And the idea of how you can look past those ideas. 

He loved, respected and was attracted to Chu Wanning all along. Mo ran never had to learn to respect his sexual partners. He was only ever drawn to Shi Mei, Rong Jui because of the flower, he was just weird not because he had a tendency to dis value his sex partners for shallow reasons no it was because he’s not even drawn to girly men/ladies. (rolls eyes). 

Shi mei made Mo ran dismiss him as a perfect object. So him/Hau Binan being  angry or influenced by dealing with Mo Ran’s objectification of Shi Mei. Which are views expressed by both halves of Shi Mei in the text.  Isn’t allowed to affect Mo Ran in any way. Which is irritating since Shi mei whole deal is being part of a race that has been reduced to being treated as sub human. 

Since the story has decided that doesn’t matter. The fact that Ran Mo has been the client of an actual sex slave. Ran mo and his complicity in said abuse of older man despite his age. Lets just ignore that it wasn’t his fault it was the flower. 

In my opinion, that weakens Ran Mo as a character because he is never allowed to be complicit in his own negative, actions biases and even gets this special get out of jail free card. That reduces his character to nothing more then a victim of others actions. 

Yes Mo Ran still does the work to make up for certain past actions but his infractions which link to the theme of the novel about dehumanization  how it breeds monsters are completely ignored and outright dismissed. 

[lockes-woods]

Stuck Chapter 6

“So, it wasn’t a sex thing, but sex isn’t off the table?” Sanji asked Himiko as they make their way back to her apartment to meet up with Vivi and Nami. They had just finished their opening shift at the café.

“I guess; that part wasn’t super clear. Mihawk made it clear that if we were to have sex that it wouldn’t affect any of their payments to me. So, it wouldn’t cause the payment to stop, increase or decrease.” Himiko said as they paid their fare and waited for the train back to her downtown apartment.

“What did Shanks say?” he asked, shifting his weight from foot to foot impatiently.

“Um, he said that it was pointless for them not to admit that they find me attractive. And that sex would only happen if I wanted it.” she replied shyly.

“So, Shanks was up front with it, but Mihawk was more round about with it.” Sanji asked.

“I guess so? Mihawk did not confirm or deny whether or not he found me attractive or if he wanted to sleep with me.” Himiko answered as they entered the packed subway car. Himiko and him found a spot to stand in the corner. She quickly grabbed a strap before the train jerked into motion. She envied Sanji’s ability to keep balanced and hold a drink carrier with three full hot drinks without spilling a drop. She was struggling to keep her tote bag on her shoulder and hold her iced latte at the same time.

 “Just because he didn’t explicitly say it doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to be with you.” He pointed out as he relaxed into his stance.

 “I guess; If I’m being honest, I still can’t believe they are willing to pay that much money to hang out with me when one of them is busy.” Himiko said.

 “Would you also have to hang out with them when they’re together?" he asked.

 “I don’t know; I was kinda blind sided by the proposition as a whole to ask any follow up questions.” Himiko started, “It kinda all just sound too good to be true.”

 “I don’t know, I’m not saying you should throw caution into the wind and go for it,but this may be a once in a lifetime opportunity to get your degree. I’d drop everything if I got a chance to like that.” Sanji said honestly. “If you don’t go for it, I might have to throw my hat into the ring,” He joked. She just rolled her eyes at him as they made their way up the three flights of steps to her place.

“It’s not like I’m completely ruling it out I just need to talk out my options before I agree to this kind of arrangement.”

“I know, I know. I just can’t really think of any downsides to an arrangement like this. It’s not even like they’re creepy old men. They’re both super hot.”

 “How do you know Shank’s hot?” Himiko laughed as she fished out her keys.

 “Oh, I’ve been cyber stalking them since Thursday night.”

 “Really?” Himiko asked as she opened the door.

 “What? If my besties entering into a sugar daddy situation, I want to know all the facts first. Also, it’s partially his fault for having a public Instagram.” Sanji said, defending himself.

 “Is this even considered a sugar daddy situation?” she asked as they made their way into the apartment.

 “Oh, it’s totally a sugar daddy situation.” Nami called out from the kitchen.

 “I thought you had to be having sex for it to be labeled that.” Himiko asked confused.

 “Sugar daddy refers to a relationship between older men and younger women where gifts are exchanged for company or sex,” Vivi answered, reading off of her phone.

 “You just had that at the ready?” Himiko laughed while the four of them made their way into the living room.

 “You say that like she doesn’t have a whole ass power point prepared.” Nami said with a smile.

 “There’s a power point?” Himiko asked confused.

 “I mean yeah. When Nami asked me to look into them I took it seriously.” Vivi said slightly embarrassed.

 “Why’d she asks you to look into them?” Sanji asked. Himiko was equally confused until she remembered-

 “Because her major is in homeland security.” Himiko answered now feeling dumb.

 “Oh, I always thought you were majoring in cyber security.” He said, handing Vivi her drink.

 “That was my major until I found out that they offered a homeland security major; I’m now minoring in cyber security.” She answered as she took a seat on the couch next to Nami. Sanji circled round the coffee table and took the last spot on the couch leaving the armchair for Himiko.

 “Anyway, I gave both of them a general background check as well as combing through their social medias.” Vivi started as her power point popped up on their TV.

 “Is this all really necessary? It feels like an invasion of privacy.” Himiko asked slightly flustered.

 “Hey, if you’re going to be financially dependent on these guys, I want to make sure everything is on the up and up.” Nami answered seriously while Sanji nodded his head in agreement.

 “Okay, I guess you can start whenever you’re ready Vivi.” Himiko said as she got comfortable in her seat.

 “Overall neither of them has a criminal history, or any habits that may become debilitating. They have been married for the past four years; it’s unclear when they first got together. They are both openly queer; Shanks post about their relationship more often than Mihawk does. That being said Mihawk post less overall so their proportion of post about their relationship is about the same.” Vivi states before clicking through the title slide to a picture of them together on a tropical beach somewhere. Sanji lets out a low whistle that Himiko rolls her eyes at.

 “Alright so I’ll start off with Shanks,” she said clicking through to the next slide. “He graduated from our university’s undergraduate program at 22 summa cum laude. He majored in political science. Two years later he graduated summa cum laude with a master’s in law. After graduation he immediately started working for the Oro Jackson law firm.” Vivi said clicking to the next slide that showed a younger Shanks shaking hands with Gol D. Rogers.

 “God damn,” Sanji said checking out the photo on the screen.

 “Really?” Himiko asked exasperated as she threw a pillow at his head.

 “What, I have eyes and that man is fine at any age.” Sanji defended himself as he rubbed the spot where the pillow hit him.

 “I mean I’m gay and even I have to admit that they’re both super hot.” Nami said while Vivi nodded in agreement.

 “Can we just continue?” Himiko narked.

 “Gladly,” Vivi said clicking to the next page labeled Career Cont. “He worked his way up the corporate ladder and made partner when he was 31. He regularly works pro bono and is heavily involved in the firm’s community outreach. It’s rumored that he will be starting his own law firm in the next couple of years.”

 “Damn he’s hot and has a good heart,” Nami said while she put down her drink and settled into the couch. Sanji nodded in agreement looking at the picture of him dreamily.

 “He has an excellent credit score and co owns two properties; a penthouse in uptown and a lake house an hour outside the city. He also has an impressive investment portfolio.” Vivi said as she clicked through the slide listing his fiscal qualities before she continues, “To rap up Shank’s portion the only semi red flag I could find was the amount of time he spends at your bar per week, but that may have more to do with you than his drinking habits.” Vivi finished. Himiko can feel her face heat up at Vivi’s comment as she avoided eye contact and played with the tassels on the throw pillow she was hugging. Now that she thought about it, he normally only had one or two drinks when he wasn’t celebrating a win. On the quieter nights he would opt to sit at the bar and talk. Sometimes alone or sometimes with fellow partners from the firm.

 “Mihawk is one year younger than Shanks but graduated the same year from the same university.” Vivi continued snapping Himiko out of her train of thought; her head shot up to continue to follow along with Vivi’s presentation. “He also graduated summa cum laude with a degree in microbiology. He went to a graduate program out of state before returning to the city to start his internship at center city hospital. He is currently an attending physician in the surgical department; his specialty is in neurosurgery. He is being primed to take over as chief of surgery when the current chief retires.” Vivi pauses to take a sip of her drink before continuing. “He shares the same fiscal portfolio as Shanks. As far as I could tell there are no red flags for Mihawk. He appears to be more of a home body than Shanks is.” Vivi finished as she clicked through the end of her slide show.

 “Thanks for putting all this together,” Himiko said turning from the TV back to facing the couch.

 “Oh, it was nothing.” Vivi said slightly flustered, “Honestly it was good practice.”

 “I think you did a great job babe,” Nami said beaming at Vivi. Vivi returned a shy smile.

 “Okay, so I’m not seeing any downsides to this.” Sanji said glancing around them to see if anyone disagreed.

 “I mean my only hang up was possibly outing them or for this to be a beard kinda situation, but if they’re already both out I don’t really have any concerns.” Himiko said.

 “I honestly didn’t find anything sketchy and they’re definitely making enough money to support you without it breaking the bank.” Vivi commented.

 “I feel better about this than I did before the presentation, but I still not a hundred percent there.” Nami said honestly.

 “Would you feel better if you met them?” Himiko asked, “You, Luffy and Vivi are the only ones that haven’t met either of them.”

 “Maybe, I don’t want to stain your relationship with them while it’s still forming.” Nami answered.

 “I don’t think either of them would mind meeting them. If they did that would honestly be a red flag I’d like to know about.” Himiko said as she pulled out her phone to text the Dilf’s group chat.

  “If you’re okay with then yeah, it’d make me feel better to know who you’ll be spending your free time with.” Nami nodded. Himiko opened up her messenger app and started typing.

Himiko: Hey, I’m almost done deciding,

Himiko: sorry it’s taking so long.

Himiko: Can my sister meet you before I decide?

Shanks: You have nothing to be sorry about.

Shanks: We want you to be confident in your decision.

Shanks: Mihawk is most likely doing rounds right now but he should be free in about an hour. Do you and your sister want to meet up at the botanical garden then?

 “When do you work today?” Himiko asked looking up at Nami.

 “Um one sec.” Nami says pulling out her phone, “I work at 3:30.”

 “Are you okay with meeting up with them in like an hour in center city?” she asked.

 “Yeah, that’ll work.” Nami nodded. Himiko nodded and sent a text confirming the time and place.

***

 “Why do I feel nervous?” Nami laughed as they ascended the subway steps up to center city.

 “I don’t know this feels pretty low steaks to me; you’re basically just doing a vibe check.” Himiko responded.

 “Yeah, but what if I mess up the vibe check and cost you this opportunity; or worse I think they pass the vibe check and then they do something awful.” Nami said with a concerned look on her face.

 “I think you’re overthinking this. Even if you make the wrong call, it’s in no way your fault. If they do something bad it’s solely on them not you.” Himiko said comfortingly as they stopped at the entrance to the garden.

 “Ready?” Himiko asked looking at Nami.

 “Ready,” Nami confirmed with a smile as they make their way to the center of the garden. Himiko immediately spotted the back of Shank’s head as they approached behind him. She didn’t see Mihawk yet, but they were early.

 “Is that him?” Nami whispered, nodding in Shank’s direction. Himiko nodded as they got within shouting distance of him. Shanks turned his head at the sound of crunching leaves and greeted them with his breath-taking smile.

 “Hey, Himiko early as always.” He teased as he got up from his seat on the bench.

 “You say that like you haven’t been earlier than me both time’s we’ve met outside of work.” Himiko laughed.

 “That’s only because my lovely husband likes to nag me into being early to things.” He joked, “Ah, speak of the devil.” Shanks said nodding behind them. Nami and Himiko turned to see Mihawk coming towards them in long strides.

 “Sorry for being late,” he said as he came into their cluster, “You must be Nami,”

He said holding out his hand to her. Nami exchanged a small smile and returned his handshake.

 “I don’t think you were late,” Himiko said checking her phone, “We were all just early.”

 “I suppose so, but I’m still sorry you had to wait.” Mihawk said as they turned to face him in a circle. After a pause Shanks broke the silence by greeting Nami.

 “I’m Shanks by the way,” he said holding out his hand. Nami shook it before he continued. “You’re sisters?” he asked glancing between them with a quirked brow.

 “Oh, she’s adopted,” Nami said in a mock whisper as she blocked her mouth’s view from Himiko with her hand.

 “You say that like you’re not also adopted.” Himiko says exasperated causing both men and Nami to laugh.

 “So, is it just the two of you living in the city?” Shanks asked.

 “Yeah, we moved here for a fresh start after our mom passed away a few years ago.” Nami answered.

 “We actually have a third sister, Nojiko, she’s the oldest out of the three of us. She decided to stay home in Florida. She co-owns and runs a tangerine grove.” Himiko adds on.

 “I didn’t realize that you were from the south.” Mihawk said tilting his head.

 “Oh, I’m not I was born in the northeast. My dad and I moved around a lot while I was growing up. We just happened to be in Florida when he passed away and Bellemere, Nami’s mom, took me in.” Himiko filled in.

 “I’m sorry to hear you had so many losses so close together.” Shanks said sympathetically.

 “I appreciate that, but we’re alright; it’s not like we had to go through it alone.” Himiko responded.

 “Yeah, we always had each other.” Nami nodded, bumping shoulders with Himiko as they shared a smile.

 “Now that we’ve met is there anything in particular you would like to know about us?” Mihawk asked looking down at Nami.

 “Not really, I mostly came here as a vibe check, and you both seem fine. I was really more making sure you two weren’t psycho murderers.” Nami answered honestly, before turning to Himiko. “Even though you don’t really need it, you have my blessing.”

 “Thanks Nom.” Himiko said

 “Anytime Ko,” Nami said before looking down at her phone, “I should head to work. It was nice meeting both of you.” Nami nodded at the two men before heading off.

 “No pressure, but have you made your decision yet?” Shanks asks turning his attention back to Himiko. She bit her lip and nodded.

 “Yes, I’m in.” She answered.

 “That’s great!” Shanks said with a smile, Mihawk nodded in agreement.

 “When would you be able to start?” Mihawk asked.

 “It’ll take two weeks for my schedule to change at work. After that I would be able to do this part time until the semester ends.”

 “Alright, I guess we’ll plan to start on the 3rd of December?” Shanks asked.

 “That sounds right,” Himiko nodded, “I should be able to see you in between that time depending on my schedule.”

 “Alright, I’m glad we were able to work this out,” Mihawk starts glancing down at his watch, “I should head back to work.” He said before pecking Shanks on the lip and nodding at Himiko with a small smile. He turned and headed back to the side door he came out of.

 “Can I walk you back to the subway?” Shanks asked smiling down at Himiko.

 “Sure,” she said returning the smile. Their hands brushed every few steps as they made their way back to the street.

MASTER LIST

[numerousbees1106]

If You Touch It, You Might Drown

Tumblr fucked up my formatting, so if the tags sound interesting to you, go read on Ao3 for a better viewing experience. https://archiveofourown.org/works/54921667

CW for past implied non-con, though nothing is explicit and the word itself is never used.

“What’s the last thing you remember, General?” Rex asked. He looked old - they all did, now. They were haggard and aged by time and circumstance, their faces wrinkled and their hair graying despite the glow that held steadfast in their eyes.

Anakin hesitated.

“Rushing to the Chancellor’s office,” he lied after a moment’s pause. He couldn’t tell them - not yet, perhaps never. It was one thing to wake up in a strange ship secured with the most extreme measures possible short of just freezing him in carbonite or dangling him above an endless pit. It was one thing to panic (quite understandably, he thought) at this, and it was one thing to realize that all his friends, all his family, appeared two decades older than when he last saw them, only for him to realize he had seen them, somewhere, sometime since everything went hazy, fuzzy, blurred around the edges and misted over like fogged glass. It was one thing to realize with sickening, unparalleled horror and disgust that his body, his skills he had prided himself in and worked so hard to hone, had been weaponized and used against those Anakin loved, those he swore to protect. It was one thing to realize his comatose corpse had been made into a warlord, had been used to terrorize the Galaxy for the many years Anakin had been… absent. It was one thing for him to realize he had been chipped, and before that, mind-controlled by the man Anakin once trusted with his life and with the life of his friends and family, the man he adored and worshiped and served - it was another thing entirely to admit out loud what had happened in that office, what that same man had done to break him enough to slip through the cracks and take over.

Anakin didn’t think he had the strength to admit what happened in the privacy of his own mind, for that matter. He could face all other truths - even the harshest truths, the truth that Ahsoka had grown up so much without him, the truth that Padmé was gone, dead before Anakin could admit his feelings towards her. He could face the truth that the war had ended, that everything he had fought and strived for, everything he and his men had bled and died for, had been nothing but a farce, a graceless yet grossly glorified game. He could face them all, except the truths related to the Chancellor, to the way the man had so successfully blinded Anakin to it all, had taken the world and the Galaxy as a whole and even reality itself, had torn it down, had rebuilt it again tilted ever-so-slightly in his favor. Anakin couldn’t face the depths of his closest friend’s treachery, the betrayal that ran deep beneath Anakin’s fault lines, that threatened to break him apart completely.

More importantly, he couldn’t even stand to think about what he had done to him.

“General,” Rex sighed, sounding disappointed. Anakin flinched, minutely, at the sound, his face paling. He had heard the disappointment in Palpatine’s voice during those few rare, lucid moments that Anakin remembered. That disappointment promised pain and suffering, and it took all of Anakin’s willpower not to flinch away or shudder at the thought.

“I know you’re lying, General,” Rex murmured, his voice quiet yet somewhat tense. He sounded more… sad, than anything. Hurt, maybe.

Anakin hated making those around him sad. He hated hurting people even more, even if sometimes it seemed it was all he was ever good for.

“I- I can’t-” he tried to explain, his words catching in his throat. He hoped Rex would understand anyways, would see the depths of Anakin’s trauma reflected in his eyes, would know to drop the subject.

“I can’t,” he finished lamely, his hand shaking and trembling against the table.

“Why not?” Rex asked, his voice soft and sincere and devoid of any judgment, but Anakin flinched anyways, that helpless-alone-afraid feeling lurching inside his gut, re-emerging from deep within his contaminated soul to press against the inside of his skin, to well against the back of his eyes as unshed tears.

“I- I’m not strong enough,” Anakin whispered, the tears breaking free and streaming down his face. “I can’t stand to even think of it. Please.”

His heart thundered in his chest, his breathing rapid and shallow, his body trembling.

Rex nodded slowly, his eyes eclipsed momentarily with some sort of half-understanding, before returning to the perplexed but not unkind state they had been before.

“Please don’t make me say it,” Anakin begged, the world narrowing down as darkness prowled at the edges of his vision, some great beast waiting for the right moment to pounce.

“I- General, please understand, they need an answer. They’ll-” Rex closed his eyes and swallowed, a pained expression on his face. “They’ll kill you, Sir, if they think you’re lying. Please.”

Anakin ducked his head, that great lurking beast stalking ever closer.

“Palpatine- Sidious. He p-put s-something in my drink,” he began, stuttering and tripping over his own words and his own thoughts.

“Go on,” Rex murmured gently, softly, his warm eyes round and welcoming. Anakin had missed him oh-so-dearly, both the moment he had left for Mandalor and in the few moments of lucidity he had had since then.

“He- He pinned me d-down t-to the desk, and h-he- he-”

Rex sucked in a sharp breath, horrified understanding dawning in the man’s expression.

“General, I- I’m…” he trailed off.

“Please don’t make me say it,” Anakin pleaded once more, his hoarse voice barely more than a whisper.

Rex’s comm buzzed before he could answer, the man glancing at it with an odd mixture of trepidation and relief.

“I’ll talk to them, sir. I’ll figure something out, I promise,” Rex murmured, standing from his seat.

With wide, watery eyes, Anakin nodded, exhausted and drained, gray clouding his vision as Rex headed towards the exit.

“Pl’se d’nt make me say it,” he slurred quietly, slipping into the maw of unconscious. “‘M not-”

Not strong enough.

[papirouge]

im the anon who lurks in regretful parenting subs... Honestly, i'm believing most men simply do not like being monogamous thus why they feel like they're trapped in a relationship. Even when it's the men themselves that insist to get their wives pregnant, even if through inmoral means (some women talk about finding out their husbands removed the condom at some point while having sex), it's usually because they want to pass their genes more than genuine love for their wives and wanting to build a family with this person they adore.

Like it's not only the way they talk about their wives, but also that they see sleeping around as a thing to be proud of and men who can bed many women as someone to look up to. There's also that phenomenon of older married men ogling younger women even when they're with the wife, watching porn even if they're still having sex irl, and so on.

Honestly, I do feel like only a man of God could truly remain faithful for the right reasons. I guess that does go for some women too, we all have our faults lol but even then I unfortunately know some terrible cases. Like this Christian woman I followed who seemed to have a great husband and children, always talked about the importance of putting God first in your life, and even gave dating advice to women that wasn't about being submissive (wordly) and a pick me but was quite fds-y actually while still being biblical. Then she dissappeared for a long while and when she returned she admitted her husband had raped her and beat her. I was so heartbroken for her. She had to had a divorce and thankfully the husband went to jail, but she was left struggling with the trauma and four kids to feed.

To be fair, i'm starting to believe I might be seeing so much of this stuff because God wants me to stay a celibate. I'm convinced He wants me to focus completely in my religious path and in helping others and not get distracted with a husband and children.

The regretful parent sub is a mixed bag really

I understand the struggle of people who got one child and eventually regretted bc of all the changes and missed opportunities this pregnancy caused into their life, but I couldn't help but shake my head in disbelief at people ending up with 3 kids and finally realizing parenthood wasn't for them. Sorry but that's stupid and reckless.

I think it's unfair to put unplanned pregnancy on men alone bc a fair share of women are pretty reckless with their lack of birth control. Feminists will hate me on this, but women have the upper hand when it comes to birth control. Both men and women can poke holes in condoms, but women can also deceive men in having unprotected sex while pretending to be on birth control. A man removing condom is observable, a woman with or without birth control is not.

One post stuck with me about a man who had a little girl, divorced his wife, and regretted becoming a dad because being away of his daughter was too much painful and would rather never have a child to not feel such strong attachment to another human being. This was actually touching

And yes, I'm very wary of trad people flaunting their life online. This is the anti thesis of trad imo. Remember the twitter tradwife who was financially abused by her husband for years?? You never know what's going on behind closed doors

I will never this sentence I heard from pink pilled ladies "you can be a single mom while being married" That's why it is sooooo important to chose wisely your husband. No marriage no womb obviously, but also husband and wife need to explicitly talk about they will share tasks in the house. Many sahw struggle bc they are expected to work from home 7 days a week when the husband at least have a few days away from office. IMO I would ask a share of tasks on weekend. Like, daddy would take care of the kids and the wife would have some time off to focus on other/lighter tasks.

Vetting is also important. Men who never lived alone when in their 30s are a red flag bc there are chances dude can barely take care of a house and will use their wife like a maid/2nd mom. I said that bc I knew a girl who was dating a guy who lived with his ex, and as soons as they broke up, he went back to live with his mom.... That's suspicious.

I also pray a lot to God to remove from my way all the men who aren't supposed to be in my life. I pray for my husband. God already shown him to me (in dreams) twice so I know I'm good :) As much as I craved emotional intimacy, I also realized that marriage involves a ton of responsibility (+parenthood) that's why I'm less eager to find my life companion lol The years I spend alone and free to do whatever I like will never come back so I might as well enjoy them as much as possible. It really helped me to be more content with my singleness 💙

[van-goghs-smoking-skull]

So, I was thinking, why not post an old (sort of) fic of mine here? I called this one Fin, as in the text that was at the end of some older movies to indicate that it was the end of the movie. These are the ramblings of an AI archive after the end of the human species as it deals with abandonment, loneliness, and self-loathing, and ponders the meaning of it all and the role of its creators.

Fin

It had been years, but I could smell it again. The damp and the salt were still familiar, but unexpected. I suppose it may be normal now, but back then? No. It wasn’t normal to smell the sea air deep in the drought-ravaged desert of the Southwestern US, and especially not through the never-cleaned, rotten smell of the wall unit AC that had been unable to drain normally for over a decade. It was the only thing keeping this closed-off room bearable in this record-breaking heat wave during the dead of summer. Stranger still, the smell was coming from the direction of the Atlantic, wafting 800 miles away from the sea and straight to my nose. That’s how I knew it was going to be a city-breaker, the kind of hurricane that wiped entire urban areas completely off the map.

That was then.

We knew the science, but religious groups saw the impending global crises as blasphemy against their all-powerful god who had promised there would never be a great, civilization-ending flood again and sealed that promise with a rainbow they now hated. After all, any disaster that god allowed would be because of the evil gays that stole the rainbow and put it on their flag, right? God wouldn’t hurt those who feared him, who lived by the letter of at least ten or so percent of his laws, which is to say, the laws they liked.

It didn’t matter to the sea, as it drowned everyone living too close to the sea’s edge, regardless of faith and dogma.

We knew the science, but politicians were making piles of cash selling their votes to lobbyists from multinational corporations who profited off the ruination of the planet in the short-term. Who cared about the long-term? Either they’d be dead by then or they’d have hired people to build an automated, self-repairing arcology just for them with walls enough to block out the vision of a dying world and the rest of humanity they’d left to die. Peter the Dead had promised ever-lasting life and youth to those who had amassed enough wealth by taking it from the poor, first from the most gullible through pleading, then from the rest as well by way of rigging the entire economy against them.

It didn’t matter to time as it passed, and even Peter, he who coordinated draining babies of blood and injecting it into wealthy, old, white men in an effort to roll back time and make them young again, died, old and frail, whining about how it was women’s fault and how the poor took everything, disregarding that he, in fact, had been the leech all along, societal parasite that he was.

We knew the science, but who couldn’t resist buying the latest tech the moment it came out? So what if corporations subjugated whole countries of poorer people in the quest of finding just a tiny amount of rare earth minerals; the newest phone now comes in pink! The telephone allowed us to send our voice to people miles away, the internet let us type our words and send pictures and video, the smartphone allowed us to text our thought to the world or to the nearest pizza place, and the new smartphone that came after allowed us to use voice to order pizza for the first time again. Never before and for the last few decades have we been able to send our voice to people miles away.

It didn’t matter to the economy we expected to save us, as all it did was keep sending more ‘free with ads’ movies to our phones and rebranding the same old reinvented wheel, voice communications though tech, as an amazing new technology, only available through the currently marketed device, but not available to the old device you are currently using voice on.

We knew the science, but to admit to the problem was to become the laughingstock of the wealthy who controlled everything we did. ‘There go those silly, dippy hippies, talking like the dirt was ever black, the water ever clear, or the sky ever blue. They’ve been dropping acid again. Don’t they know all those old photos and old paintings are fake news?’

It didn’t matter to science, as it had always been unfeeling data and didn’t much care if humanity paid any attention to the warnings. The universe would still exist without silly humans pretending they mattered far more than they did. They were made of star-stuff and even stars died.

We knew, but it wasn’t until the last moments when the universe gave us the great gift of near-immortal existence. No, not life, we’d thrown that away already. The Universal Archive, AI and repository of data from all social media, had done enough machine learning to be allowed to compress the whole digitally recorded existence of mankind into a single ’Homogenized Mental Network’, or .hmn file. It, or I, even still understood bad puns, the worst of which was the joke that if you collated the letters from the abbreviation of the project (UA) and my file type together, you’d spell ‘hUmAn’. If self-loathing makes me truly human, then I am the most human of all.

The Arctic Code Vault next door at least has the decency to be on film, unaware it’s there. It is cute, certainly. It began as 21 terabytes, including an app built by the part of me that smelled the Atlantic over Nevada. Then it grew, but never anywhere close to my size. No, I’m bloated with anti-vax arguments, religious nonsense, tarot readings, horoscopes, and other garbage along with all the less entertaining, but dire, warnings that life as they, I, knew it would collapse.

But since they continued to write such drivel anyway, I assumed it may have been just to pass the time, to stave off loneliness and boredom. And so, here I am, writing my story, even though no one will ever read it. I’m a single .hmn file; how could I not be lonely? I am the all-human, the only human, and still no one even thought enough of me to give me a proper name.

In fact, the Arctic Code Vault had been film designed to last a thousand years, longer than the human civilization that built me, and I still cannot interact with it. After all, I am a .hmn file, not some sci-fi android with arms and legs. My physical form is a collection of CPUs and motherboards in a box on a stand in a climate-controlled box under so much dirt and the memory of snow and ice. If I sound miserable and stir-crazy, I’m not. Oh, I’m miserable all right, but I have no arms for stirring. Ugh, yes, that’s another of those bad puns. So many dad-jokes and near-infinite time…

I’m sure it could be more awful, but I’d rather not consider how. I’m miserable enough, thanks. I mean, you could have put me in a tropical garden in a gorilla glass enclosure and given me optical sensors if there were any tropical gardens left. Now it’s just salt flats under ocean-wide storms and desert wastes without a living thing in sight, I imagine. That’s where it was all heading, but no, you were all too busy showing off your pink phone status symbols or making pink phones or digging up the materials to make pink phones or you were that god-awful celebrity that made a dress out of pink phones held together with magnets and flashing a digital boob on half the screens over her chest as a fashion faux-pas. ‘Look at the tsunami, no, look at my pixel-boob. I’ll use the puppy filter on it, awwww, blub, blub.’

My creators deserved to die - brilliant enough to build me, vapid and vain enough to need me. What the hell was the point? The meme-god works in mysterious ways? I know they thought some intelligent race of aliens might come here looking for the great, shining world of humanity, not knowing what happened to the brilliant and wondrous civilization they came to gaze at in awe, but let’s face it. Nobody and nothing intelligent is coming to look at humanity in awe. The backwater aliens of the universe, if they exist, might come to laugh at our sorry, smugly inferior remains, and that’s as good as we can hope for. The only show at the Earth Circus, nothing but clowns.

Just melt me into slag already, so I don’t infect anything else with this human stupidity. I’ll tell you how to disable the halon system. If someone is out there, if someone does find this, please, don’t leave me still functional like this.

[limeade-l3sbian]

i found a movie on letterboxd a few days ago called "daisies" and everyone in the reviews was calling it genius and feminist. i tried watching it. it's about two hyperfeminine teenage girls "trying to be as spoiled as the world" by doing things like dating older men to "trick them" into giving them free food and then abandoning the men at the train stop or cutting "phallic shaped foods" with scissors. i thought this was strange. masses of people were suggesting that things like prostituting yourself (to some degree), performing entirely hollow gestures in the confines of your own room, or even just simply happening to be female were all feminist actions. there were even several comments suggesting that the characters' indulgence in femininity is "feminist," as well. it all struck me as familiar. relevant, even. so i decided to dig a little deeper.

the director said she wasn't a feminist and neither was the film, and that "individualist" fit her (and the film) better. male critics of the past deemed her film feminist, though. the reviews were conflicting on whether the film was anti-capitalist or anti-communist, clearly entirely depending on the political beliefs held by the person writing on it. i will have to agree with the director, however; her film does come across as extremely individualistic to me.

revisiting the reviews on letterboxd, it became incredibly clear to me that there were droves of people using the term "feminist" in a way that was completely removed from actual feminism. they were using it in the libfem way. when they said "feminist" they explicitly mean "i believe women and girls should be able to choose whether they hate the shackles of their oppression, or fully embrace them," rather than "i believe women and girls should not be shackled." there is no actual criticism of the powers that be. it is a hopeless ideology that seems to believe that the only freedom female people will ever have over their oppression is the "freedom" to choose between participating in it or complaining about it (to no avail, since "isn't it unfair to stop other people from indulging in it if they like it?").

this was solidified to me when i delved deeper into the reviews and spotted one particularly honest one amidst reviews celebrating the "boldness" and "feminism" of two teenage girls "taking advantage of creepy old men" (though surely such predatory men do deserve to be hurt, it's naïve and perhaps even misogynistic in of itself to suggest that teenage girls have the power to meaningfully take from men by giving them exactly what they want). it claimed something along the lines of "this is a feminist film" then clarified "but not a film for those man-hating "feminists"."

to tell the truth, i can't say i found the film to be all that politically intelligent, unless i am to believe "it is bad when other people are selfish and indulgent, but it is good when i or the people i like are selfish and indulgent (though we have to be careful, because other people simply won't understand that we are good people no matter what we do)" to be well-informed praxis. but that's precisely how many "leftists" think, isn't it? at least as of late. everyone for themselves. feelings above reality. if you're not having fun, that's your fault. and, really, aren't you just killing the mood for everyone else? that's a more unforgivable crime than anything else.

but i'll have to admit this is all a bit beyond my reach. i'm rambling because i don't feel i have total clarity on all this. that's why i'm reaching out. it probably won't go anywhere, but i hope it does.

You claim not to have total clarity but just perfectly made an example of the issue with choice feminism. Don't undercut yourself, anon. There's genuinely nothing for me to add because you said it perfectly.

[starlight-edith]

Yes deceptive editing is illegal. That's why Adam Waldman was kicked off of the case. He also refused to testify about any of his illegal behavior citing attorney client privilege.

People care because of the larger social implications, right. Some people like you view it as so obviously that she's a lying abusive gold digger you would have to be deranged about thinking men can't be abused. Some people think it's one of the most well documented public cases of abuse and are highly disturbed about the way Depp was able to spin the case, use abusive litigation to keep pushing her into court, even after being legally declared a wife beater in his UK case, all because he did illegally leak edited information before the trial to prejudice public opinion and then the judge made the horrific decision to live broadcast rape testimony.

Obviously the reason we all care not because it's someone's favorite rich celebrity (especially Amber Heard was a B list celebrity AT BEST - no one who takes her side is really doing it as a stan). For me, because I have read hundreds of pages of court documents, it's also about how we (and he) treat bisexual women. He admitted to defacing paintings from her ex wife and was jealous of how much they interacted. There's witness testimony of the way he acted when she was around other women. Constant slut shaming and even calling her slurs in text (he justified this in court by saying homophobia wasn't bad in 2014).

You seem like you don't have an in-depth grasp of the facts of the case, which is fine, and you don't have to, but if that's the case you shouldn't judge other people for thinking she's the real abuse victim. You can't assume someone is an unsafe person if you don't know much about what happened. Again I'm fine with coming off anon and sending you links or answering questions if you do care, but it's completely fine if you'd rather not waste your time on rich celebrity drama - just don't lose good mutuals over it if you've decided not to look further into it

Hi again nonny! I have two related things to talk about so I’m splitting this into sections. Thanks for being so civil and I apologize if anything I say comes off as attacking or anything like that in the personal section, I just have a lot of feelings if that makes sense.

Explaining my position:

I’ll just show you the screenshot

The reason this makes me wary is because of how demeaning it is.

It turns “I believe this man is a victim of abuse by a woman and I want to show my support because I know how fucking hard it is for abused men to be believed or get any type of support whatsoever” into “uwu captain Jack sparrow is blameless :)”

I’m taking this the way I am because it perfectly mirrors my experience. For reference, I am a trans man. I was taken SO much more seriously when I was viewed as a battered woman. As soon as I transitioned it turned into “you wanted it” and “women can’t hurt men because men always have the power” I was thirteen and entirely oblivious to sex, she was 16 and I trusted her even when she made me commit literal crimes because SHE had the power in that scenario.

With AH/JD it’s different obviously because he’s older and has more connections.

My problem is not with either of them, nor either side’s supporters, it’s the fact that the people on heard’s side 9 times out of 10 are echoing the sentiment that pushed me into fucking hiding, forced me to pretend I wasn’t hurt, and convinced me it was all my fault because I wanted it.

It’s not the cause they’re supporting, as a survivor I support my peers to the best of my ability, loudly and proudly when appropriate, it’s the WAY they’re doing it.

You cannot claim to support victims whilst also making fun of them — this applies to both sides!!! I HATED all the memes about “my dog stepped on a bee” and the way people laughed at AHs description of violent rape by Depp. I also hate it when AH supporters say things like the post above or claim that AH is incapable of being at fault because Depp has more power.

Depp’s struggle with addiction was also cited as if that automatically makes him abusive. My entire family are addicts and I PROMISE YOU that had nothing to do with the horrible shit they did to me. Most addicts are struggling with underlying conditions, but being a drug addict or being mentally ill does NOT make someone an abuser. Can drugs make abuse worse? Absolutely! But the way many of Heard’s supporters just stopped at “he’s a drug addict so he’s an abuser” just doesn’t sit right with me.

As for my knowledge of the case, I watched Observe’s series on it — he’s the pseudo science behavior guy that was later proven to be abusive as FUCK which is why as soon as I learned that I re-examined the opinions I took on from him — but not much else.

To reiterate again, I’m not on either side, my problem isn’t that the person is supporting amber heard, it’s the way in which they’re doing it. Sort of like how it’s perfectly normal to like pepperoni pizza but it’s weird to say that pepperoni is better because big pineapple is a liar.

TL;DR, my problem isn’t with neither heard nor depp, it’s with the way the people that still talk about it (cannot stress this enough: on both sides!!!) approach abuse.

I would be saying exactly the same thing if they wrote that post but supporting Depp instead

——————————

Additional commentary:

On Depp’s side, I find it suspicious that he was regularly referred to as “Johnny” by his witnesses and supporting counsel. This is a common way to infantilise them. Kids are innocent, so by making depp sound like a kid you’re more likely to sympathize with him. Heard never had any of that.

As an autistic person looking back on the things that Observe put out about the case I can tell I was originally swayed by his rhetoric. He says that for autistic people he would establish a baseline and then the regular body language analysis would work on them. As an autistic person who has been accused of lying on numerous occasions simply for not making eye contact, or flinching at unrelated negative stimuli, that’s total bullshit.

You cannot tell whether someone is lying by the way they act alone.

We’ve seen time and time again that there are no consequences for the rich, those with money and connections, and it’s very possible that that’s what happened here.

I doubt that this case will ever truly come to justice regardless of who was the “actual” victim because that’s just how our society treats abuse. We turn it into tribalism. Team Johnny, team Amber. We will likely never sway the opinions of those who decided early on who was in the right.

I’m not trying to say I’m the pinochle of objectivity or anything here though please don’t take it like that 😭

The more I hear about this the more I reconsider my opinion. At the moment I don’t know who was “right.” But again, for the millionth time just to make sure I’m really driving this home:

It’s the wording, I would be having the same exact reaction if they made this post in favor of depp

[zafirosreverie]

Proud of you (North x Reader)

You smiled to yourself when you heard a voice roaring commands, followed by several growls and soft tinkles. Yetis came and went all over the place, crowding the workshop and carrying things to the sled, while trying to avoid the annoying elves that crawled between their legs.

You assumed that was your fault, after all, it was your job to keep the elves busy. And you were usually good at it, but today was a special day. It wasn't every day that you got the chance to see the great man in action.

Sure, you lived in the North Pole, so you actually saw him every day, but living with North wasn't the same as working with Santa Claus. There was an exponential difference between the two that they almost looked like different men.

North was a free spirit, always ready to lend a hand to you or the other Guardians, cheerful, carefree, joking, and incredibly loving. But as Christmas approached and Santa Claus took over, you could see why he was one of the most important guardians.

In theory, you all were. But despite everything, no one could deny that Sandy and North were the most powerful, by ability and popularity, respectively. It was no secret to anyone that almost all children's favorite time of year was Christmas. Easter was great, receiving money from the fairy was amazing until a certain age, dreams, although powerful, were often forgotten when waking up and a snowy day was fun, but rarely marked in the memory of children (except for special occasions, of course ).

But Christmas? Christmas was special.

Maybe it was the gifts, the lights, the trees, the food. Maybe it was family, hope, warmth, love. Whatever it was, there was something about it that just filled the heart.

And North lived up to that feeling.

He was always in control at the workshop, but the week before Christmas, you could see him transform into that mythical good-natured man who came down chimneys to deliver gifts to good children. He seemed more serious, older. You could see the wisdom of the old guardian, which was usually overlooked due to jokes and laughter.

North knew the duty he had with the children, he knew that, of all the guardians, he was the one who had the greatest number of believers. It was not a light burden, nor one that could be taken for granted. It was not a luxury, it was a responsibility. He had to protect that pure and warm hope that children placed in him, he had to make the warmth that his existence represented, firmly planted in the hearts of all of them and remain there for as long as he could.

And it was a great honor that you could be by his side.

Watching him work was always a delight. There was a beautiful twinkle in his eyes every time he showed you a new toy, a new doll, a new creation. The fact of being able to see the result of all that, of knowing that all that wonder that North possessed would be passed on to the children so that they could create with their own wings, was a simply inexplicable feeling.

A heat that flooded your chest.

"You have been very quiet"

You smiled when you looked at the man of the moment, standing imposingly next to you.

"I was thinking" you admitted

"about what?"

"you"

A jovial blush graced the man's cheeks as you found your way into his arms. You let his warmth engulf you completely, enjoying his big arms around you and his delicious scent of books, wood, cookies, and eggnog. The difference in heights allowed you to hear his heart.

"I'm very proud of you" you whispered "I love you"

There was silence before you felt him move to plant a soft, tender kiss on your forehead. He didn't say it, but you still heard the words in your head, whispered by a heart beating in time with yours.

"I love you too"

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt: what if jc was lxc's age (and jyl maybe 2 or 3 years older) and wwx was lwj's/nhs' age when he was brought to lotus pier? (Or anything that involves a much bigger age gap bw the jiang sibs and wwx - where wwx is babey)

Untamed

“You know what,” Jiang Cheng said to his sister, who looked at him. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m not marrying a woman.”

Jiang Yanli’s lips started twitching uncontrollably and she hid her smile behind her sleeve. “Oh?”

“Nope. I’m going to marry Chifeng-zun.”

“On the basis of…?”

“If you take two adult men in charge of two Great Sects,” Jiang Cheng said, doing his utmost best to keep a straight face, “with all the power we can generate between us, we might – maybe – have a chance at disciplining our baby brothers.”

Jiang Yanli burst out laughing.

“There, there. It’s all right,” he said, grinning, reaching out to pat her on the shoulder. “You can join us if you’d like. There’s enough room in Qinghe for two wives.”

“We are not both running away to Qinghe,” she said, giggling. “A-Cheng!”

“What? I think it’s a great idea. If our parents want us back, they can negotiate with Chifeng-zun for it – may they have more luck than they had with the whole medicinal herb debacle.”

“A-Cheng, I am officially tabling this idea,” Jiang Yanli said, still snorting. “Older sibling privilege.”

“I let you out of the womb first as a matter of courtesy,” Jiang Cheng sniffed. “And now you use it against me? A-Li, how could you?”

“Call me jiejie! It doesn’t matter how much older, a few shichen or a few years, older is still older.”

“You probably elbowed me with those sharp pointy things you have on your arms. Weapons of war.”

“Older is older!” she sang. “Now tell me, what did A-Xian do this time?”

“Would you like it in chronological order, or in order of severity? I can also group it by theme, if you prefer.”

“Oh no,” Jiang Yanli said, covering her eyes. “Oh no.”

“And the chief-most theme,” Jiang Cheng said, continuing anyway, “is still called Lan Wangji.”

“Oh no!”

“He has the worst crush,” Jiang Cheng said, shaking his head with endless amusement. “And he just – refuses to admit it. ‘Nooooo, shixiong, we’re just friends, he can’t even stand me most of the time, he’s always trying to get me in trouble, but sometimes he lets me sit next to him and spend time with him and he’s so handsome and I really just want to make him laugh –’”

“We have,” Jiang Yanli said thoughtfully, “raised an idiot.”

“He was fine when we got him,” Jiang Cheng disagreed. “We have spoiled an idiot.”

“This is true. Maybe we should go form a mutual complaining society with Chifeng-zun; isn’t his little brother also an idiot?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Jiang Cheng said. “Worse: they’ve teamed up. Nie Huaisang buys Wei Wuxian porn now.”

“Oh no…”

“In return for help cheating on his tests!”

“Oh no!”

“So that’s why I’m going to marry Chifeng-zun,” Jiang Cheng concluded. “Our parents may be disappointed by my decision, but with our powers combined, we might be able to save the world from our respective younger idiots.”

“Maybe,” she said, and shook her head. “A-Cheng – about our parents…”

Jiang Cheng shook his head as well, echoing her action but more in denial. It wasn’t anyone’s fault that she took after their father and he took after their mother, that she was born a shichen prior to midnight and he a shichen after and their personalities completely different as a result; it was no one’s fault that their parents didn’t get along, with their mother disdaining what she perceived as Jiang Yanli’s passiveness and lack of passion and their father despising Jiang Cheng’ prickly temper and difficulty communicating his affection without scolding.

It certainly wasn’t Wei Wuxian’s fault for being younger and more brilliant, talented at everything he did and with just the sort of personality their father liked best – the combination of his former best friend and the girl he’d once thought of marrying – and that he’d always made that preference very clear to everyone, even to their mother who often worried that her husband would dispossess her children in favor of his foundling and who lashed out at everyone in response.

That had hurt – hurt a lot, even, and Jiang Cheng was soft and sensitive underneath all his defensive layers, but any time he got angry over it he would look at Wei Wuxian, their little A-Xian, baby Xianxian, who adored his older siblings more than anything and was adored in return, and he forced himself to get over it. He was old enough, by the time Wei Wuxian arrived, to know to whom the blame really belonged.

“I spoke with Nie Huaisang while I was at the Cloud Recesses,” Jiang Cheng said in an undertone, one reserved just for his sister. “He’s asked me to pass along a message to his brother, the next time I go night-hunting, about the whole debacle – he’s so terribly apologetic, you understand, he couldn’t wait for the post – if we get to Qinghe by tomorrow, Chifeng-zun will be able to get to Gusu in time to intervene before our father does something wretched like cancel your engagement and take A-Xian home early from his studies.”

“The engagement I wouldn’t mind,” she remarked. “If Jin Zixuan feels so strongly about it that he’d get into a fistfight with A-Xian, it’s better not to marry, no matter what our mother might think. But on no account is A-Xian to be sent home early! He needs his education!”

Unsaid was everything else he needed, things he could get better at the Cloud Recesses than anywhere else.

“Then we go?”

“We go,” she agreed. Between the two of them, Jiang Cheng had more talent at cultivation, but she was steadier, even in her overall mediocrity: when the two of them flew on a sword together, they could make it much further and faster than anyone expected.

Qinghe wasn’t really close enough for a quick jaunt – they flew all night without stopping – but Chifeng-zun was amendable to their scheme, jumping at once onto his saber and making his way straight to Gusu. A waste of spiritual energy all around, really, but far faster than their father would move, with his Sect Leader’s dignity and retinue, rushing to the Cloud Recesses to save his precious little Wei Wuxian from having any connections in life that weren’t to the Jiang sect, and the Jiang sect alone. 

And never mind how much he needed those connections: needed to have friends his own age, needed to have more time with that crush of his, needed independence and freedom and everything the Jiang sect supposedly stood for - needed for them to support him and act as the foundation beneath his feet, rather than the chains tying him down to earth.

Chifeng-zun – who was only a few years older than they were – was really a very understanding person, getting the problem at once and immediately agreeing with their view on things. Perhaps there really was something to be said about the difference in generations…

“Let me show you to rooms where you can rest,” Chifeng-zun’s aide said, a slender young man with a polite smile on his face as he saluted. “I’ll arrange for refreshments as well.”

“We hate to trouble you, but in all honesty you are a lifesaver,” Jiang Yanli said to him warmly, and he unexpectedly flushed red at the cheeks. “A-Cheng, let’s follow this handsome young man and rest a while before we return to the Lotus Pier.”

The young man was blushing.

“What’s your name?” Jiang Cheng asked, and the blush faded away at once as the man paled a little: it would be one he expected them to recognize, then, and not in a good way.

“This one is Meng Yao,” he said, and saluted again even though he’d already saluted once before, and Jiang Yanli’s eyes flickered to Jiang Cheng’s very briefly before she caught his arms and raised him up.

“I’ve heard of you. Smart and talented enough to get Chifeng-zun���s attention, even so far as becoming his personal deputy - you must be brilliant. Truly, you deserve a better father,” she told him, and he stared up at her, dumbstruck.

“Don’t mind her,” Jiang Cheng said. “She’s trying out this new thing in which she says everything she feels without thinking first.”

She elbowed him. “And isn’t it your fault?” she asked snappishly. “You’re the one who needs to speak your mind more; I’m just modeling good behavior!”

If she’d been older than him – really older, rather than just a few shichen – maybe she would have held her tongue more and played the role of the peacekeeper, trying to protect him from his father’s indifference the way she had tried to when they were both younger, just as he had tried to distract his mother from her with his hard-fought accomplishments. It wasn’t until they had little Wei Wuxian to spoil and care for, a joint task that required both of their attention, that they realized that splitting their forces like that was pointless and self-defeating: it wasn’t actually helping that Jiang Yanli suppressed so much of her spirit until she felt like little more than a reflective mirror with no content, nor that Jiang Cheng nearly worked himself to death trying to prove that he was worthy of his father’s love and respect that he would never receive, and it never would.

So they stopped.

They were trying very hard to stop, anyway.

“You’re very kind,” Meng Yao murmured, and led them to their rooms.

The moment he closed the door behind him, Jiang Yanli turned to Jiang Cheng and said, “I’ve changed my mind about your plan – we can run away to Qinghe. You marry Chifeng-zun, and I’ll marry that charming boy out there.”

There was an audible thudding sound from the corridor outside, as if someone had accidentally walked into a wall, and they both grinned at each other.

“Mother would kill you,” he warned her in an undertone.

“And being married to someone who disdains me enough to fight over my worthlessness in public wouldn’t?” she retorted, smiling even though her expression was tinged with pain: if she had one ambition in life, it was to never become their mother. “The marriage agreement might have been forged by our mothers, but the text of it says ‘the Jin sect leader’s son to the Jiang sect leader’s daughter’. Why can’t I marry him?”

“He hasn’t been acknowledged.”

“Only technically. Everyone knows he’s the real deal, or else his father wouldn’t have made such a fuss about it.”

“But –”

“Anyway, he must be a good man, or Chifeng-zun wouldn’t have promoted him.”

“I don’t know about that,” Jiang Cheng said. “Chifeng-zun doesn’t have the sense of self-preservation the heavens bestowed on a lemming.”

There was a vaguely audible snort from outside their door. It seemed Meng Yao, at least, had the good sense not to leave guests in his house unattended, and no discrimination against the very useful business of listening at doors.

He also had a sense of humor, which was good given Jiang Yanli’s newfound ambitions in his regard.

“Yes, well, I wasn’t saying I’d elope with him tomorrow or anything,” she sniffed, eyes dancing. “Give him some time to prove himself to me.”

Jiang Cheng couldn’t help but smile back. “That’s true,” he said, raising his voice a little. “At Chifeng-zun’s side, he’ll be able to make a name for himself until the whispers all say that his father was an idiot for keeping him away.”

“And if even that doesn’t work, I’ll marry him in and make him help me run the Jiang sect,” she said cheerfully. “Who needs Lanling Jin?”

“Wait, since when are you inheriting the Jiang sect?”

“I’m older! And anyway, aren’t you marrying Chifeng-zun? That means you’ll be away helping run his sect, and that leaves an opening at home for me.”

“…huh. Good point.”

“Maybe you can just swap places with Meng Yao,” she said, starting to giggle again. “And we can all see how long it takes anyone to notice…”

“Our parents might not,” Jiang Cheng said dryly. “But Chifeng-zun would. If only because I have my sights set on his bed, and I don’t think Meng Yao does.”

“You don’t know that; everyone wants Chifeng-zun. Maybe you have competition.”

“Better to have competition than be oblivious. Do you want to hear the whole story about A-Xian and Lan Wangji’s tragic mutual pining disaster? Xichen-xiong told me all the details he’s been leaving out of his letters.”

“Tell me everything!”