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some more palestine awareness!!

Hey everyone, Lxmi here! Me and a few friends are running a campaign to raise awareness about the situation in Gaza. It’s heartbreaking to see what’s happening there, with people living in cramped and unsanitary conditions. We want to spread the word and encourage people to avoid supporting brands that fund Israel, while promoting pro-Palestinian content on social media. We know it’s a big ask, but if you read this whole message, send me a 👏and I’ll send you a text for you to post. Thanks to all of you who take the time to read this! ❤️

Boss makes a dollar

I make a dime

So i think inappropriately about Zewu-Jun

On company time

Untamed Fall Fest 2020: Day 17 - Falling

(You can also find this on my Ao3-account)

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When Lan Wangji arrived back at Cloud Recesses, he looked much worse than when he started from there hours before. Even from a distance Lan Xichen could see his cheeks red with fever and his whole body trembling from the strain of flying on his sword way too soon after what had been done to him in the name of punishment.

“Wangji!”, he called out as soon as the light figure was within hearing distance, already closing in on the spot where Bichen would set down in a wobbly landing in big strides. His brother didn’t answer, just stood there, breathing heavily and only when Lan Xichen was right before him could he see that he had his arms wrapped around something securely.

No, not something. Someone.

Baffled, Lan Xichen couldn’t react beyond closing his own arms around the little child, when his brother pushed it against his chest.

“Brother”, Lan Wangji rasped quietly, “please, protect him.”

Lan Xichen was torn between wanting to bundle his baby brother back into his bed and bringing the child in his arms to the sect doctors, because his little body felt too hot to be normal and he could hear his labored breaths even from where the tiny face was pressed into his robes.

“Wangji, who is this? Where did you find this child?”, he asked, while turning his head to see if any disciples were around to go bring the child to the infirmary.

“Protect him”, Lan Wangji repeated, still gasping and swaying on unsteady legs, his eyes unfocused in a way that told the sect leader the fever already had him firmly in his grip.

“Wen Yuan”, he added, then, and Lan Xichen froze, “Please, brother, we have to protect him.”

Wen Yuan. A child. Lan Wangji had flown to the Burial Mounds, after the sect leader had told him about the siege, and brought back a child. There had been a child there… They had fought against… They had killed…

Lan Xichen pushed the nauseating feeling of doubt and guilt back and looked down to the child, the boy, whose cheeks were as feverish as his brother’s and hot to the touch.

When he looked back up and into his brother’s eyes he found them silently pleading, nearly begging with all their fever-wracked, unsteady focus, his trembling hand wrapped tightly around Bichen’s hilt, and he understood with shocking clarity, that he wasn’t sure Lan Xichen would fulfill his wish, wasn’t sure he wouldn’t condemn the child for his name. The sect leader wanted to feel hurt because of it, wanted to be affronted, if it weren’t for the fact that he had condemned many others for the same fault and let them be slaughtered not long ago.

“I promise, Wangji. He will be safe”, he vowed with as much silent force as possible and the naked relief in his brothers eyes was staggering.

“Sect Leader Lan!”, called out a voice behind him and he turned around to see disciples hurrying in their direction. He wanted to call out to them, tell them to find a doctor, when a heavy thump sounded behind him. Alarmed, he whirled around, and gasped, terrifying fear gripping his heart tightly.

“Wangji!”, he called and let himself fall to his knees, the child still pressed against his chest, but his brother didn’t react.

He had fallen down where he had stood, his limbs splayed on the ground, his unbound hair covering the grass in tangled, matted strands. The light blue robes on his back were a frighteningly dark shade of red, his wounds having bled through the bandages after being strained so soon, the lines of the strokes visible even through the many layers of cloth. His chest rose and fell heavily, his breath becoming more labored with every exhale and his cheeks burning brighter by the moment.

“Sect Leader Lan! Second Young Master!” The disciples calling out reminded Lan Xichen of their presence and he tried to get himself together enough to be able to speak without his voice trembling.

“Get the doctors and a stretcher. Hurry!” He didn’t care if his last order was spoken too harshly or too loudly and didn’t wait until the disciples fast-walked to do as they were told.

With his heart pounding heavily in his chest and dizzying fear choking him, making himself struggle for every breath just like his brother and the child, he took one of his brother’s cold, limp hands and closed his own around it tightly, holding on with all his might.

While the torrent of fear, guilt and horror tore him apart inside, making him feel as if he was plummeting down an endless tunnel, falling into disabling doubt and uncertainty.