“If there is anything else that can be said of Qinghe Nie,” Lan Xichen recites, helplessly faint, “it is that we take our weddings and our burials very seriously—”
“—For they are, to us, one and the same,” Nie Huaisang finishes for him. “You do remember.”
Andrew might not be able to play any more, but of course, there are alternatives.
Beauty and the Beast - sort of. Thanks to stealstheashes on LJ for the beta.
Diarmuid and the mute make a bed in the wilderness.
The world hasn't ended, and Raleigh's pretty sure he's glad. That doesn't mean he's happy about the PPDC wanting them back.
They haven't really talked about what's going on between them, except this morning while Jiang Cheng was eating breakfast and Wei Wuxian was lying on the sofa with his arm over his eyes, Wei Wuxian said, "Are you going to be weird about it if I hold your hand in front of our friends?"
Jiang Cheng chewed his youtiao.
"Just let me know," Wei Wuxian said. "It's chill."
Oh, Jiang Cheng knew very well that it was not chill. But he wasn't like Wei Wuxian; he couldn't just do<…
They haven't really talked about what's going on between them, except this morning while Jiang Cheng was eating breakfast and Wei Wuxian was lying on the sofa with his arm over his eyes, Wei Wuxian said, "Are you going to be weird about it if I hold your hand in front of our friends?"
Jiang Cheng chewed his youtiao.
"Just let me know," Wei Wuxian said. "It's chill."
Oh, Jiang Cheng knew very well that it was not chill. But he wasn't like Wei Wuxian; he couldn't just do things like that, like it was nothing. Wei Wuxian could name his sword—gleaming now on the rack above his head—Suibian, he could do whatever he wanted. He got all the curses and the blessings of being always inside and outside the Jiangs, and Jiang Cheng got everything else.
"You can hold my hand," Jiang Cheng said after he swallowed, feeling like he'd just walked over a bed of hot coals.
His secrets were collateral. They were a contract, a promise that he would not go back on his word. Her flesh, his soul: when she knew things that not even the King knew, things that could ruin him, they became equal.
May tries not to think about everything Jasmine does for her.
It was her own damn poor luck to be in love with both of them. (The three work a job, deny their feelings, and get kidnapped. In that order.)
No inch of his bared skin is a revelation to Tang Fan, but stripping before him still feels like an unveiling, marital. A deification of the profane.