#is full of condescenion

[soldier-poet-king]

Tumblr pls fuckin stop suggesting trad blogs to me oh my fuckin shit I am going to lose it

#not even just trad caths. but trad prots. anything leaning thst way #no i dont want to hear abt j Peterson or m walsh or any of those ilk #omg i had to hear enough about pterson when i was at u of t #ughhhhh #like if youre perbaos well-meaning post abt talking to queers or ppl of other faiths #is full of condescenion #and the underlying premise that its abt evangelization and not just like. treating other ppl like ppl #idk how to help u #not everything has an ulterior motive! #have u considered! just being a good kind person without being a preachy asshole! #is actually the divine plan! god works in ways u dont understand! ur just being self righteous and annoying!!! #have u considered that other ppl are not just ignorant and dumb but have made their own decisions #and most ppl are genuinely trying to seek Good in whatever way they can or know how #for whatever definition of Good #and some of yall are Sooooo condescending and prideful #and im gonna KILL im so fkin annoyed #and tumbkr keeps!!!! recing it to me!!! #Go away #franposting #this is what i get for being on my phone at work #://// #literally these ppl vire evanglizing and conversion as a means to an end #they don't even see other ppl as ppl. but as objects to be saved or whatever. like ffs. that's SO #ppl are ends in and of themselves. not to be kant. but yknow. STOP we can tell when ur being an ass. i promise

[zeldahime]

"Jiang Wanyin." She could hear the steel in her mother's voice, even just in a voicemail. Steel and composure, neither one a trait Jiang Cheng possessed. "Call me."

Well, the word of Wei Wuxian's betrayal -- of Jiang Cheng's reaction to Wei Wuxian's betrayal -- must have reached her. Fine. She already knew what her mother would say.

"Young lady," she'd begin, the condescenion dripping off her voice, the disappointment crackling through Jiang Cheng's blood like electricity. "I raised you better."

If she were here in person it would be worse, Jiang Cheng knows. Mother would start with her make-up, her smudged eyeliner and tear-streaks through her foundation and blush. The loss of face, Mother would say, was obvious on her face. Who cared? Jiang Cheng thought, irrationally, hysterically, who cared what people would think, when Wei Wuxian--.

When she'd seen Wei Wuxian, she'd stormed right over to him, not a thought in her head, just pounding, pulsating rage. He'd left them, he'd left her. He'd left a-jie, he'd left all his obligations, all for who, some Wens?

She didn't quite remember what she said, as she'd screamed at him. Something cruel, no doubt; she had a knack for it, a snarl on her lips, acid and venom coating her tongue. Zidian had crackled on her fingers, electricity thrumming like her heart, angry and sharp. She knew she'd punched him, aimed at his jaw like she always did, and he should have dodged like he always did.

He didn't dodge.

She might have dislocated it. She might have given him an electrical burn with Zidian.

Oh fucking well, if she had -- he had Wen Qing now. She was welcome to fix him up. Bitch.

Anyway. The wheel of the rumor mill turned quickly, if Mother already knew. It'd been barely an hour.

She could hear Mother's lecture already. That she was the face of the Jiang, that ladies did not lose their cool, did not scream at boys in the street and start fights and get dirty. That her reputation was all she had, and that she shouldn't waste it on Wei Wuxian.

The thing is -- she had tried. She had tried every day, to be quiet but firm, to cross her legs and keep her makeup from smearing, to stay master of her temper. But she wasn't a bamboo whip and steel blade, like her mother, a regal and controlled presence. She was, despite herself, more like an old handcannon -- messy, and loud, and explosive. Gunpowder kept next to open flame.

Besides, a-jie was as quiet and buttoned-up as any lady, and Wei Wuxian hadn't stayed for her either. It didn't matter.

She didn't need a lecture from her mother. She needed some more fucking whiskey.

The apartment was dark and empty when she stomped in, barely pausing at the entrance to Wei Wuxian's-- to the room that used to be Wei Wuxian's. He hadn't taken anything, just disappeared into the night. Even his bike was still parked downstairs. Suibian was his baby, the best on the market souped up and customized, made just for him. They'd spent hours upon hours working on their bikes together in high school. Fuck him, for not even taking Suibian.

She knew he had alcohol in here somewhere. He'd been hiding it from her, but she knew.

It used to be, if they needed to be drunk, they would drink together. Then he started to drink more and more, earlier, without her. Well. That was yet one more thing to drink about, wasn't it. One more thing she was left behind to do alone.

She found his stash of boxed wine in his minifridge and took a long swig straight out of it like so much orange juice. That's what he got, for leaving everything behind. He got a nosy foster sister drinking his booze. She laughed, a little crazily, before she activated Zidian and slashed it against the fridge, shorting it out. It felt good. It felt almost like she had an impact on the world around her.

It felt like agency.

She whipped Zidian again, and again, against her brother's drapes and his dumb Batman comforter and the closed closet door, against his half-full laundry basket and the cheap fan he kept next to his bed and the desk where he still had an economics print-out and his damn picture of Lan Wangji. She didn't destroy things, mostly, just hurt them. Hurt them, because Wei Wuxian had hurt her, and she couldn't get at him. But she didn't destroy them.

She couldn't destroy them because then he would never come back.

#mdzs #cql #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #jiang cheng #r63 #genderbend #oneshot #not *not* a songfic #my writing