#[but love is sacrifice as much as it is greed]

[eldritch-sanctum]

This year has been really life-changing for me you know. I learned about dual fandom brainrot mode.

I curse you all with this.

[do-i-love-jaal-today]

Jaal reacting to seeing SAM kill you (and revive you thanks SAM) to escape from the Archon's trap, once you're both safely back on the Tempest (I feel like there should have been a scene with the LI about this, a dramatic you-almost-died-and-I-need-to-hold-you scene)

Funny how I can both not remember a scene well, but also know exactly what to do with it.That being said, we absolutely should’ve had a stronger reaction from Jaal. Even if it was barely contained emotion.

Doing this HC styled for the moment, but feel free to request this as a mini-fic, if that’s more your speed!

In the moment, he tries so hard to be okay with it. SAM said it was the only way, so it has to be the way this happens, right...?

However, Jaal is bitterly realizing he’d much rather bare through being on Kadara for hours on end if it meant he didn’t have to be here. Emotions are choking him up, especially watching your limp body collapse on the ground. Grinding his teeth when SAM is struggling a moment with reviving you.

He should be used to this. The grief. The risk of loss; why else enter the Resistance? One must face loss and still fight on. Even understanding that one’s own life is at risk. To protect the whole...

But just this once... Can’t he be greedy? Can he not wish for your survival? To not have to see you like this...?

Being revived is a relief he can hardly put to words- further choked up at you taking breaths of air once more- but his heart still aches with a fierceness unrivaled.

...For now, he holds his tongue. Stills his arms from reaching out and holding you to the point it hurts. (He’d be sorry for it, but to know your alive and can feel takes precedent over all else, at the moment.) There is still a mission to finish. He can do that much.

(As much as it maddens him to do so. For the first time in his life, Jaal loathes putting the mission first. He almost lost his darling one, and he cannot react until the end? It’s no different from past missions he’s had with other angara; this hurts in a way unlike those, however.)

He gives you some time. Gives himself a few moments to be composed, before you inevitably seek him out... Yet, he cannot still his shaking hands. Hold back a few tears from escaping. How can he find any semblance of peace when he does not want to lose you...?

His back is to you, staring at nothing, when you enter. And when your voice sounds in greeting, he is quick to turn and pull you into a hug. It’s almost crushing, but he seems to have pulled himself together just enough to prevent any further harm.

You still have to ask him to ease up!

Jaal pours out his heart without any further nudging. He loves you so, seeing that was one of the worst moments of his life, how can he bear to know you may end up like that again...?

...And yet, he cannot stop you. He needs the kett stopped as much as you do. To protect his cherished people. For the chance that someday, maybe, on an off-chance... That his creators may return. Because he loves this little “extended, friend-family” that the Tempest is for him, now.

He loves you. And to love you is to know that your people- all those from the Milky Way- need the kett gone, too. This isn’t something to give up on, even though seeing you die in front of him will haunt his nightmares for the rest of his days.

...You both cry. The hug he pulls you into is less constricting, but that’s what your heart is probably doing right now, anyways. His head nuzzles the top of yours, his tears getting on there...but you cannot find it in you to care right now.

Jaal admits that he wishes to not be without you. However, his bunk is...terribly small. Isn’t yours bigger?

You can’t help but laugh and agree. A small cutscene of the two flopping onto your bed, cuddling close. A momentary comfort, for the fight ahead.

“Keep me with you, won’t you, darling one...?”

[blyhowdy]

finished fmab

[realrogerhours]

This post burns if I remember it

[ifishouldvanish]

This is probably me reading waaayyy to much into things BUT I'm presently being haunted by Thoughts™ of that last scene with Olrox and Mizrak.

Like Mizrak spends the season doubting his standing with God and trying to atone for the role he played in realizing the abbot's plans. He's wracked with guilt and knows that hell is waiting for him.

And then we have Olrox who knows this, knows what he's done, knows how he feels about it. We see him physically hold Mizrak back and force him to stop and look at what he has wrought. Yet every time Mizrak dismisses him, Olrox returns to basically yell, "I know! I know, and I still love you!" He's extending the grace Mizrak is certain he does not deserve in the eyes of his God.

One of the more crucial myths about Quetzalcoatl is a story in which humanity has been killed off as punishment for vice and greed, or even just as collateral in a spat between deities—but Quetzalcoatl believed in humanity so much that he went to the underworld to retrieve everyone's bones, and, through the sacrifice of his blood, gave humanity the gift of life again.

And I keep thinking about the line, "the devil is easy to cheat".

Of course, the mesoamerican pantheon doesn't have a 'devil' per se, but it does have Mictlantecutli, who is the ruler of their underworld. And a key part of this myth is that when Quetzalcoatl went to the underworld for everyone's bones, he didn't want to give them back. Quetzalcoatl had to use trickery to steal the bones and escape with them.

So I keep thinking about this shot in particular:

To me, it echoes this one from season 1:

I've already written about the symbolism of Olrox's introductory scene at some length, so I won't repeat myself here, but I liken this shot of Julia to a sacrifice. So, you know... by proxy I'm now likening Olrox in this last scene to a sacrifice.

But this time the roles are effectively reversed. Julia, a human sacrificed to a god, and Olrox a god (or at least an avatar of one) sacrificing himself for a human, for someone he believes to be deserving of life.

Like I look at this scene and I think about these things and this shot of Olrox seems to say, "drink of my blood, feast upon my flesh". To say, "your God won't save you, but I will." To promise, "if the devil tries to take you, I will venture into hell to steal you back. I will offer myself to grant you life again."

Of course, the life Olrox is giving Mizrak here is a dark and twisted thing, but it's also an achingly beautiful expression of a god's unconditional love.

[xinganhao]

📺 now watching: "hotel del luna" (jihoon x reader)

part of my svtflix milestone event. warnings: cussing/swearing, mentions of death. more content under the cut. enjoy watching!

hotel del luna's guestbook, as managed by lee jihoon.

Name: Han Seung-woo Check-in date: August 17, 2019 Reason for stay: Seung-woo was a street artist who passed away in a tragic car accident at the height of his career. He stayed at hotel, haunted by the regret of never completing his masterpiece mural, which he planned to dedicate to his late mother. Reason for leaving: The hotel manager tracked down Seung-woo's original sketches and helped arrange for a modern artist to complete his mural at a public plaza. Witnessing his vision come to life brought him peace. Check-out date: January 11, 2024

Name: Choi Min-ji Check-in date: May 4, 1997 Reason for stay: Min-ji was a nurse who sacrificed herself to save patients during a hospital fire. She lingered at Hotel del Luna because she couldn’t forgive herself for leaving her younger brother behind, feeling she hadn’t done enough to care for him. Reason for leaving: Decades letter, her brother passed away; the manager brought him to the hotel. During their reunion, he reassured Min-ji that her sacrifice inspired him to become a doctor and save lives, fulfilling her legacy. They crossed into the afterlife together. Check-out date: October 9, 2024

Name: Kang Mi-young Position in Hotel del Luna: Receptionist Check-in date: July 8, 1975 Reason for stay: Mi-young was a renowned opera singer who lost her voice in life. She became the hotel receptionist to welcome guests with warmth and kindness, making up for the bitterness she had shown in her final days. Reason for leaving: A guest, who was a devoted fan of her opera performances, recognized her and reminded her of how much her art had inspired others. This helped her regain a sense of purpose and release her regret. Check-out date: December 31, 2024

Name: Park Jin-ho Position: Concierge Check-in date: January 12, 1843 Reason for stay: Jin-ho was the very first staff member of Hotel del Luna. He accepted the role of concierge after passing away as a penniless merchant who regretted his life of greed and failed relationships. He hoped to redeem himself by helping guests find closure. Reason for leaving: After serving at the hotel for over 180 years, Jin-ho finally forgave himself when the manager thanked him for teaching them the value of love and selflessness— something he had yearned to learn in his own life. Check-out date: June 8, 2024

Name: Lee Jihoon Position in Hotel del Luna: Proprietor Check-in date: August 23, 1290 Reason for stay: Jihoon lived over a millennium ago during the Goguryeo era. He was the leader of a band of thieves and was devastated after the massacre of his loved ones; namely, his bandit group and closest friend. Fueled by vengeance, Jihoon killed various people in his fury. Deity Ma Go punished him for his sins by bounding him to the Hotel del Luna. He was warned that he would only be unshackled from the hotel once he is able to replace his fury and grief with remorse and love. Reason for leaving: You N/A Check-out date: N/A

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[rholsof-film]

Krittika & Jennifer’s Body

*Updated*

Krittika Nakshatra:

Aries: 26°40' to 30°00' - Taurus: 0°00' to 10°00'

Sheep Yoni🐑

“A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing”

Jennifer’s Body takes on a heavy Krittika theme—as the representative of this nak is the innocent sheep yoni. However, the fundamental themes of this nakshatra are opposite of innocent. The themes are sacrifice, renewal, and transformation; In this case Jennifer is the sacrificed sheep for the selfish greed of a band trying to have their chance at fame. Much in a biblical context lamb/sheep, and goat are sacrificial in order to come into a state of renewal and transformation. Making way for the new state of mind, body and soul.

Krittika is to cut, burn and purify, it’s a fundamental hunter as well—Kartikeya being born from Krittika is a metaphysical hunter/warrior. These natives are the untamable but love the game of being a hunter taming their prey. Jennifer Check, played by Megan Fox, who is a Krittika sun native is very much “a wolf in sheep’s clothing”. I believe that is another key theme of this nakshatra that is not often talked about enough. They are often underestimated in the beginning given their image of innocence. Just simmered down to being a seducer but no one ever goes more in depth about Krittika’s ways and how they work and think.

Low Shoulder travels to Devil’s Kettle to put on a mini show as a coverup to their sacrificial ritual. When they lock into their victim Jennifer, they assume she’s this innocent virgin that has no experience sexually, which is vital for their ritual. However, she isn’t a virgin and when she is sacrificed violently, she’s brought back to life. Renewed in a transformative way as a succubus. I must note that during Low Shoulder’s show, the bar burns down and there are dozens of casualties that aren’t accounted for. Krittika burns to create and make room for the new.

As Jennifer embraces her new life as a succubus, her friend Needy begins to notice that many of the boys from school are mysteriously disappearing. Since there are no secrets between close friends, Jennifer eventually confesses the truth about what happened to her that fateful night—revealing that a part of her died in the process. There is a state of darkness within Krittika's transformation, a spiritual death. Now, to survive and maintain her vitality, she must live differently. This journey mirrors Krittika’s process of purification, which I believe is the ultimate granter of beauty. For Jennifer, feeding on boys is the price she pays to sustain her vibrance and magnetic allure.

Krittika’s relation to the birth of the masculine also connects to Jennifer only targeting boys. Although, I like to think it’s because she favors the feminine more and it feeds into her liberation for woman. Jennifer and Needy’s relationship is also homoerotic and I talk about Krittika and queerness more in a different post that you can check out in my tag.

When Jennifer sets her sights on Chip, Needy’s boyfriend, their friendship reaches a breaking point. This betrayal forces Needy to confront Jennifer, ultimately leading to Jennifer’s elimination.

After killing Jennifer, Needy inherits the unique abilities of the succubus—strength, levitation, and heightened aggression. This mirrors Krittika’s archetypal traits: immense power coupled with the challenge of balancing intense emotions.

We see this transformation unfold throughout the movie, particularly at its climax. In the beginning, Needy is in jail struggling with her emotions. This foreshadows her punishment for murdering Jennifer and inheriting her new abilities. However, by the end, she channels her newfound strength to take down the band Low Shoulder in a brutal and cathartic hotel murder. Bringing full closure to the events that started it all. All transformative and inherent to Krittika’s nature.

*Updated Version*

[jenniferpendragon]

Listening to "Would You Fall in Love with Me Again?" and I wondered why on earth I connected so deeply with Odysseus here when I've been connecting with Penelope so much, and then it clicked.

Massive spoilers below the cut, and also mentions of sexual assault and image issues.

Odysseus has become the monster, that's what "Odysseus" is about, his final culmination. He is everything he's fought and hated and killed. He has murdered a *baby* at the command of a god who told him if he didn't, the gods would have the child destroy his family. His best friend died because Odysseus, out of extreme guilt, indulged his ways too much. His own desire for a better world and to give mercy, fueled by guilt, caused his mentor to leave him and left an opening for future pain. His pride turned his cunning into dust. He watched men he had fought for ten years to save from dying in war be drowned in a storm because of his damn pride (and his brother-in-law and second-in-command's greed and mistrust). He then nearly lost all of his remaining men at the hands of an enchantress. He is forced to hear the screams of his dead comrades and come face to face with his dead mother in the Underworld who died waiting for him.

Odysseus then murders gods know how many sirens (rightfully so, but still), and then sacrifices six men to a sea monster for safe passage. His remaining men mutiny against him (understandably on the crew's side, not so much for Eurylochus) and then decide to eat the sacred cattle of Apollo, which gets the wrath of Zeus down upon them.

Odysseus then decides that his wife and son are more important than his remaining men and lets them be killed for their misdeeds. He is then trapped for years (and possibly sexually assaulted, reading between the lines) by a woman who wants to replace his wife while the demons of his past and his guilt and trauma cause him to nearly commit suicide. Once freed from the island and Calypso, he fights another sea monster with just his wits and then nearly dies by a god before torturing Poseidon until he gives Odysseus the safe passage he wants. After all that, he (rightfully) slays the suitors who were planning to rape his wife and attempting to kill his son. They beg for mercy, but the Odysseus that gave mercy to the cyclops that murdered his best friend is dead. Only a monster remains. A man who tortured gods stands before them and judges them for their crimes.

And his son is ecstatic to have him home, is wondering if Odysseus would accept him as "weak" as he is, as if Telemachus isn't the perfect "warrior of the mind" Odysseus always wanted to be, a combination of Athena and his younger self's viewpoints. Odysseus, the monster, sees one of the two things he still loves in the world and exercises those open arms because this is his son. His love for him is unconditional and unchanging.

Athena, beaten and recovering and full of empathy for the first time in the ten years since she left him, sees the Odysseus before her, the monster and cunning warrior she was attempting to turn him into, and accepts what he is, what he's become because of her. And while she loves him, she doesn't show him love. Just acceptance and quiet friendship (which is more than fine, but it does nothing to his heart about his monstrosity).

And then he comes to Penelope. The woman he has turned into someone unrecognizable for. Someone even the goddess of wisdom regrets. His son loves him, but it's because of the monster he has become. His son never knew him, never knew who Odysseus was at his core. Athena did, and she regrets what happened to him, what he became. But Athena wasn't who he was fighting for. He wasn't the one thing that kept Odysseus alive for twenty years of hell.

And he comes to Penelope, heart on his sleeve and says "I'm not the man you knew. I have done terrible things. I have become a monster inside and out. Would you fall in love with me again?"

He doesn't ask "do you still love me?". He doesn't think it's possible. He is a monster. He not only signed the death warrant of his sister's husband but threw a child, a baby, off of the walls of Troy. Odysseus doesn't believe himself worthy of the love he is asking for. He needs it with every fiber of his being because that is what he has craved for two decades, but he is a monster. He is not the kind and gentle husband who carved a wedding bed into an olive tree so it would be a living reminder of their everlasting love. He is a man who sold the souls of his men to a monster to get home.

Odysseus is amazingly, beautifully human, but by many metrics, he is a bad man. His actions can be justified and rationalized, but he has committed atrocities or allowed them to be committed (Achilles' desecration of Hector's corpse, opening the gates of Troy for the people to be slaughtered in their sleep, sentenced men to death so he could go home, throwing a baby off the walls of Troy) and he can't be called a good man (his actions in "Odysseus" aren't monstrous but they reveal his mindset) in a measurable way.

I wouldn't go so far as to call him evil like I would Antinuous, but would Odysseus? Yes. He believes he is a monster. Monsters are something to kill, not worthy of love.

But he asks. He asks Penelope if she would fall in love with him again. Not if she still does, he doesn't ask for that. He has loved no one else in these last twenty years, but he doesn't ask for that from Penelope. He's asking for a chance. Would she be willing to love the monster that has come home in her husband's place? Would she be willing to look upon him, with the blood of an infant on his hands, with the blood of an entire people on his hands (they would never have sacked Troy and committed genocide without him), and choose to fall in love with him anyways? That is what he is asking. Could you love me, as evil and monstrous as I am?

And what does Penelope do? She asks him to move their marriage bed. He's not her husband? He's a monster? Fine, a monster wouldn't care about destroying their wedding bed, the symbol of their marriage, to get what he wants, a new start from her. A monster wouldn't care that he would have to tear out the roots of their eternal love to have her now. A monster wouldn't have second thoughts.

But Odysseus is hurt and angry at her essentially asking for a divorce from the man she married, revealing the secret of their marriage bed in his shock and rage. A monster wouldn't give it a second thought, but the man she married could never move that bed for anything.

And she tells him that only her HUSBAND knew that, so that makes this monster he claims to be her husband. Penelope doesn't just agree to fall in love again, but that she doesn't care how, where, or when, because he is HERS. He isn't a monster that has replaced her husband, he IS her husband.

She does not look at him and see his sins. She looks at him and sees someone she has loved and waited for for twenty years. Someone she was ready to die a violent death rather than live without.

Odysseus believes himself to be a monster, to be evil. And Penelope says he is her husband. He is hers. He is not some evil monster, he is her husband who would never even think about moving their marriage bed. He thinks he is evil, too much, too monstrous, and she says no, you are MINE.

I've always felt like I'm a horrible person and worthy of the pain and punishment I get. But hearing someone love someone else unconditionally, looking upon them and saying "I don't see your sins; I only see you" is incredibly healing to me. Penelope hears his list of his sins and straight up IGNORES them. It's almost as if she has forgotten them. She loves Odysseus, period. She does not see the vile monster that Athena sees and accepts and regrets. She sees her husband.

Love is the greatest power in the world.

[specialagentartemis]

ykw i am having so much fan watching you be a hater, that i’ve decided to ask for more. PLEASE give us a rant about a book you hated.

Haha aw I'm honored. And uh I hope you don't have any particular attachment to Becky Chambers. Sorry in advance.

But A Psalm for the Wild-Built won a Hugo and I do not get the love. Book 1 was nice enough, yeah. Book 2 had me tearing my hair out.

Sibling Dex is a restless Tea Monk who serves the God of Small comforts on the science-fantasy planet of Panga. I genuinely love the idea of a tea monk - part therapist, part confessor, travels around to the different towns, mixes tea blends for people, lets them talk about their worries and fears and stresses, and gives them, if not advice, then sympathy and a listening ear and some calming tea. This is meaningful work but they're unhappy. After doing this for a while they're still unsatisfied with their life, so they go into the woods searching for self-actualization, and meet a robot named Mosscap, a wild robot that lives in the woods. See, hundreds of years ago, all the robots "woke up" and became sentient one day, then they staged a quiet rebellion against humanity's greed and industrialization by walking into the woods and never coming back. Now, the continent is split in half: humans stay on the Human Side, and robots stay on the Robot Side. The Robot Side is kept wild and humans are discouraged from going in there because humans can't be trusted not to ruin Nature. The rpbots are welcome to come to the Human Side, they just never have. Dex is the first person in a While to venture into the woods of the Robot Side, and the first human since the great walkout to see a robot. Mosscap gives Dex a lot of philosophical pep talks about not pushing themself so hard, about allowing themself to just rest and appreciate the world without feeling like they need to be Providing A Service to justify their existence. It's a nice theme. Underbaked, imo, but nice. Relateable.

Book 2 was a goddamn mess.

Book 1 mostly takes place in the wilderness of the woods, so it's okay if the nice utopian human community Dex comes from was sketchily-built. It Just Works, and everyone Is Just Nice, this is a science-fantasy parable. There were some issues I had with it - like the strict ideological and physical divide between Nature and Humans, and the fact that Dex's religion seems to be the Only Religion In The World, and it's vaguely secular-humanist with the gods being not "really" gods but names given to primordial forces and philosophical concepts, and the religion not really making any demands of its adherents in any way except to become their best selves and devote themselves to what they like... it's potentially interesting, but overall kinda lazy. It felt like Becky Chambers was aware of the idea that having an enlightened-atheist sci-fi utopia is Problematic, so she made there be a central religion, but she also didn't want it to have any of the ~icky~ things religions have, like belief in anything supernatural, or dietary restrictions, or creeds, or codes of behavior, or expectations to make any kind of sacrifice in any way. All the gods "ask" is that humans observe and appreciate the world. But whatever.

In book 2, Dex and Mosscap return to Dex's society, and the book seems to want to explain how the world works, and oh my GOD is Chambers not prepared to do this.

"Observe and appreciate" is all anyone is asked to do. Book 2, A Prayer for the Crown-Shy, is an ode to ultimate virtue of Doing Nothing. There's this attitude I see in a LOT of utopian fiction, where the author is bluntly just not a good enough author to imagine a utopian society where people act like people, so in the world of Panga, utopian society is achieved through 1) homogeneity 2) no one giving a crap about anything.

As far as I can tell, there is the one religion. Most people are Fine with this. Most people are Fine with anything. There are no characters with distinct personalities. There's no money, except there is, except it's not real money and no one will deny you anything if your balance is in the red, even though your balance is available to be seen by anyone - this does not cause any kind of shame or pride or competition in any way, and Dex doesn't understand why it might. There are no hierarchies or governing bodies, people just volunteer to step up when things need doing (this is portrayed as great and not deeply concerning). There are different communities, but in them, everyone is uniformly nice, friendly, and helpful at all times. There are some parts of nature, like the seashore, where people are not allowed to go because they'll ruin the environment, and this is accepted as correct and necessary. Most people live in hippie, pro-recycling, high-tech, end-of-history green communities; there's one group they visit, however, that doesn't trust technology, and lives in a vaguely sci-fi-Amish way. You might think, Dex travelling around with a robot, this might cause conflict! It does not. The people from this community calmly explain their anti-technology position, Dex calmly explains their pro-technology position, and they politely respect each other. "Not bothered either way" is a phrase that turns up in various permutations a lot and is held up as the good, mature, responsible way to be.

There's a scene where they catch a fish for dinner, and instead of killing it, the scifi-Amish guy says "We let the air do that for us, and they let the fish slowly suffocate to death in the air while they all look on solemnly and sadly. This is portrayed as a deep, beautiful moment of them witnessing and honoring the final moments of a living being's life. And not. y'know. them torturing a living being to death so they can keep their own hands clean.

This is what I mean about the valorization of passivity: observing is all you are ever obligated to do. Letting a fish die in the air is better than killing it quickly and humanely, because doing things gets your hands dirty, while letting things simply happen is the Correct way to do it.

At the end, Mosscap and Dex blow off all their promises and appointments and just hang out at the beach chilling out instead, because do what you want forever, you don't have to do shit. This is the happy affirming ending. Mosscap you fucking said you'd meet with the city leaders as the robot ambassador to the humans, did you tell them you were blowing off this commitment because you didn't feel like doing that anymore??? Did you even let them know??????

It is SUCH a baffling book. The theme wants to be "you are more than your job, you deserve to just Be" and ends up feeling like "you don't have to do anything ever, and no one can make you do anything you don't want to do if you don't feel like it, and you don't owe anyone anything and searching for a purpose in your life is just making you stressed out so chill at the beach instead."

The thing that drives me crazy is like. Mosscap cheerfully tells Dex about robots that spend twenty years in a cave watching stalactites form because they think it's beautiful, and those robots are just as much a valued part of society as anyone else. Appreciating beauty and wonder is good enough, you don't need to be productive. And I'm just. fuckin. like. Humans are not robots! Robots don't need to eat or sleep! Humans need food, and clothes, and shelter, and medical care, and if we don't have SOMEONE working to provide that, we Die! Nice as it would be, we CAN'T just all do nothing forever until we feel like it! We can't do that!

And at the same time, the book bizarrely treats wanting a purpose in life as like... almost disordered. If you are seeking a purpose in life it's because you just haven't let go of your guilt and relaxed enough. It's bizarre. Valorization of passivity. Humans aren't meant to be in nature so we just Shouldn't. Doing nothing and having no strong opinions is the most self-affirmed you can possibly be. Letting a fish suffocate is more moral than quickly breaking its neck or spiking its brain. Someone else will do it. Who, if we're all supposed to be resting and only doing what we feel like? Don't worry about it.

"The heart of this book is comfort [...] There is nothing in it that can hurt you." YOU LIAR BECKY CHAMBERS THE FISH SCENE STILL DISTURBS AND UPSETS ME TO THIS DAY

[the-artist-grimm]

Brainworm won't leave me, about angst of your Narilamb but on the other side of the coin.

So Imma just write about it even if I should be sleeping right now. Do what you wish.

Fate is irreversible. The Lamb would die a sacrifice, even the God of Death couldn't prevent it. Sure they had delayed it; allowed the Lamb to show the Bishop of Old that their fate was already written. But with it done, there's nothing stopping fate to strike once more.

The Lamb could feel it in the air, in the bones. Perhaps the crown had allowed them to feel the presence of an end. And theirs was soon to arrive.

Perhaps Narinder still had hope, that their weapon could return after their sacrifice. That the Lamb could be kept by his side and that of his kits. Yet the Lamb knew better than to rely on only hope.

The Lamb's heart was full, of love for who is now considered family to them. For Narinder, Aym and Baal. And for them, The Lamb would do it. Sacrificing their life for their freedom. For the kits to finally see the world the Lamb has told them so much about. For Narinder to feel the rain against their fur once more.

With a resolve of steel, the Lamb is ready, in an outfit they've carefully curated for their last moment. Perhaps it is full of old memories; inspired by any remaining traditions of the sheepfolk who will soon vanish with the Lamb. Maybe something akin to marriage; as they have accepted that they would never see the day of their own and that the freedom of their loves should be the happiest day of their life.

With a sad smile, the Lamb dedicate their death to the three person who fills their heart with love. Ripping it from their chest and crushing it; letting the large amount of devotion they had for their God, and the Red Crown, float back to its rightful owner. The Lamb swore they heard the screams of Aym and Baal, calling for the first time their Baba. They could feel a pang tug and their heart, even if no longer in their chest; never knowing before how much they longed for the both of them to see the Lamb like a parent.

Their weapon discarded, both kits rushed to the Lamb's side, begging, pleading for them to not leave; grasping at the Lamb's ever colder body.

Maybe in a moment of clarity, The One Who Waits sheds their gargantuan form for that of a more reasonable one. They are silent, whirlwind of thoughts and emotions flying through their head yet they chose to ignore most; going straight for the Lamb. Tears already flowing unbeknownst to him. Maybe they were the Crown's.

It's kinda funny, the Lamb never thought they would had been able to hold Narinder in their arms fully; yet even in this form he is as beautiful as the day they first met him. The Lamb smile softly at him, barely hearing him talk about promises to bring them back, cursing himself for his greed and his stubbornness, that he shouldn't had ignored his feelings when really the only thing he now desired was fading infront of him.

Maybe, just maybe, the Lamb can reach for a goodbye kiss. Not the one they had dreamed of, but it was their last chance before vanishing into the same ashes that covers the entirety of Narinder's realm; leaving now three black cat free, yet so cold and alone.

THIS IS AMAZING WHAT THE HECK. ALSO HOW ARE YOU IN MY HEAD (adding the angst art first in case people don't wanna read my lore dump lol)

Like Anthea WOULD have died had Narinder not let slip just how much he cared about them. He didn’t confess his love-he wasn't ready to do so just yet, but upon seeing the lamb break down in the ruins of their home village shortly before they'd started on Silk Cradle, seeing them finally let all the years of grief and anger and guilt take over and swear that no matter what they’d get him and the kits out-that while they couldn’t save their family they would save his even if that meant their death, in the ‘good’ ending sort of speak (which yeah has the betrayal but it leads both to grow and eventually be happy again), he tells them no-that freedom isn’t worth it without the lamb leaving the gateway alongside the twins and himself. He would not accept any outcome that didn't have them by his side.

Having spent their whole life giving up things for others, Narinder essentially saying he’d give up his freedom, the thing he wanted most, for them was what made the lamb want to try and have a future. Because here was someone who wanted Anthea by his side because he cared for them, and they realized they wanted that too. It's why in the good end Anthea starts weaving a courtship sash for Narinder, because while they didn't bet on his feelings being romantic, that admission was what made them realize they'd long fallen in love, and it was the one thing they could do to show just how much those words meant to them. A promise in return to be by his side as well in whatever way he'd have them. A promise to live.

Had Narinder held his tongue and not given into the impulse to say ‘no’, or had he instead told the lamb that their fate was to die, then Anthea would have laid their life down one last time. They might've realized they'd fallen in love sometime before that, but the desire to see their beloved and their children free would've outweigh the desire to be 'selfish' and want to be free with them.

5 chains bound the god they’d grown to love, and though 4 were linked to his siblings the 5th metaphysical one could only be unlocked by the sacrifice of a devout heart. It had been Shamura’s final failsafe. They knew that Narinder may be able to kill the bishops in his rage, but had counted on him never finding someone willing to sacrifice themselves like that.

But the main theme of Crimson Angel is expressing your feelings, and in the bad end, neither Anthea or Narinder learn to do so. Narinder keeps his love close to his chest, while Anthea loves the one way they know how-through sacrifice.

So yeah thank you for the fic and I shall now add it to the little metaphorical trinket box of ‘fanart/gifts to look at in awe'

[yourlazykitkat]

Hey thanks for checking in, I’m just going crazy on how Scott always resorts to killing himself as a way to level the playing field, give one final advantage to his teammates (double life final with pearl, limited life finale, losing yellow and red life to gem). How his sacrifice is never truly honoured or reciprocated, sometimes becoming an emotional burden for the person he does it for.

VS

Pearl who internalises Scott’s final act of love from double life, coming into this series with the mindset that she will die for her allies. Her fear of being the only one alive and surrounded with the blood of her allies she worked so hard to support. Being denied this chance to be a martyr and then being forced in that final fight to the death once again. Understanding like every other winner, the victory in these death games is not worth it to the point that they would do anything to avoid it. Something scar will realise soon.

VS

Gem, the newest player- one with so much promise. Her eagerness to kill, we all remember that from every player in third life. And the risk-taking, the greed and desperation. Throughout the season, Scott has gifted her hearts and his lives (reluctantly with yellow) with not as much in return (in terms of hearts). Tell me, why did gem have to kill both Scott and impulse? Why not kill one and then let them kill the other? Distribute the hearts properly? It’s because of the instinctual greed of a red life- one that she couldn’t understand the scope of until Scott had only 2 and half hearts. When all he could do was give, and she could only take. Her outrage at the 2v1- god as an audience member who knew that one side agreed to sacrifice because of the odds and the other side didn’t, it felt like a battle deciding which was the better way to love. Gem loses here and moves onto the dead without the consolation that Scott’s sacrifice changed anything.

VS

Scar, who denies Pearl’s offer of sacrifice. Refusing any less than a true fight to the death just like with Grian in the cactus ring. Not having friends this entire season and understanding that he was not the one pearl wanted to give up her life for. As soon as gem dies, he wastes no time attacking pearl despite their alliance because he understands the rules of the game better than anyone- there can only be one winner, the secret keeper demands it. Him, breaking the rules in episode 1, then suffering the consequences for four sessions straight, becoming more isolated and dangerous and eager to please the secret-keeper. Grian, from the dead, telling him that he won as he stands alone. The complete opposite of third life where he wouldn’t have made it to the end without his partner. All he can do now is press succeed.

[theweeklydiscourse]

I don't understand WHY Bardugo wrote Alina's ending the way she did. Did she think it would make for a bittersweet, satisfactory ending? (It did not.) Did she think it would be sharp and realistic? (It unfortunately was a bit.) Did she think she'd be subverting expectations?? Did she love Mal so much she went insane?? I just don't get it. I just don't get it. If by the end of the series she forgot to add in more love interest for Alina (because she obviously didn't want to consider the other two despite being fascinated with Aleksander) she could just have. Let poor Alina be alone. Why condemn her to such a fate? I think everyone I've talked about this has unanimously agreed they'd cease to exist if they were in her place. It's so. So strange

It’s all a consequence of the underlying conservatism and misogyny of the series. This is best illustrated through the fact that even in Alina’s “happily ever after” she is still regarded as a weird outsider while Mal is beloved by their new community. It isolates Alina in a way that the Darkling never could, it’s representative of Alina’s permanent dependence on Mal as a consequence of their marriage. Mal is allowed to have a life outside of his marriage, while Alina has to depend on him for emotional connection. She can only find fulfillment in her husband while Mal is afforded the freedom (and means) to seek fulfillment from other places.

What I imagine Bardugo thought, was that it would be heartwarming and pleasant for the “boy and the girl” to return to simplicity and live happily ever after. Hence the line: “They had an ordinary life, full of ordinary things—if love can ever be called that.” In isolation, it’s certainly a sweet sentiment that one might smile at in a different story. However, in this story, it’s a clear attempt to romanticize the dire (and downright depressing) circumstances of Alina’s so-called “happily ever after”. It looks like a happily ever after, but readers with a critical eye can see it for what it truly is. They are able to see the way Alina is disempowered at nearly every level, that she had been relegated to this role because she dared to want more out of life.

This gestures towards the fundamental reason why Malina is far more disturbing than the likes of Darklina. It’s disturbing because it reflects the ways women are pushed to settle down and sacrifice themselves for their man and glorifies that sacrifice as the healthy alternative to “greed”. Sure, the Darkling is villainous, but his actions are so beyond the normal scope of everyday relationships that they fail to land the same impact as Mal’s mundane assholery. Alina is considered greedy for wanting to excercise her power and influence for a noble cause, but somehow Mal isn’t greedy for wanting Alina’s full undivided attention despite her many other responsibilities? The narrative validates his unreasonable requests by presenting the ending as something wholesome and heartwarming. Mal’s selfishness and greed is validated by the text because it is societally acceptable and encouraged men to have those traits. He has to be the more powerful one in the relationship for this traditional happy ending to work.

Bardugo condemned Alina to a depressing fate because she was so fixated on the image of a fairy tale happily ever after that she ignored how Alina would be impacted by it. I think this reveals Bardugo’s strange affection for Mal, but it also shows how she failed to see how the realistic mundanity of Malina would not work in her favour. Because…yeah it’s realistic all right, realistically misogynistic that is.

[thebirdandhersong]

@magpie-trove I've been chewing on this since yesterday!!!!

YOU'RE KIDDING ME

[bandgie]

Armageddon | 1 Year Event

➛ welcome to the end of the world.

we've made it to (roughly) one year of my first kpop fic! it's been a great ride and im so happy that so many people read my stuff even if I question my own ability. thank you so much for your support and I hope you have fun with this event!

Pick a Member & Prompt | rules [!!] | no longer taking requests :(

LUST - L.MH & K.SM (SKZ) ➛ intense or unbridled sexual desire : lasciviousness

GREED - C.BC (SKZ) ➛ selfish and excessive desire for more of something than is needed

PRIDE - P.SH (ENHA) ➛ an excessive love of one's own excellence

GLUTTONY - L.HS, P.JS & P.SH (ENHA) ➛ over-indulgence and over-consumption

SLOTH - P.SH (ATZ) ➛ emanates a whole world of despair, depression, boredom and restlessness

ENVY - H.JS ft. C.BC (SKZ) ➛ resentment or sadness at another's good fortune or excellence, with an often insatiable desire to have it for oneself

WRATH - J.YH (ATZ) ➛ an acid within the soul that eats away at the heart until there is almost nothing left

HUMILITY ➛ modest or low view of one's own importance; humbleness.

CHARITY - S.CB & L.YB (SKZ) ➛ the highest form of love, unselfish love of one's fellow men

CHASTITY - H.JS (SKZ) ➛  refrains either from sexual activity that is considered immoral or from any sexual activity

GRATITUDE - K.HJ (ATZ) ➛ to praise, to celebrate; to be in contact with the Divine

TEMPERANCE - Y.JI (SKZ) ➛ to use moderation in all things or to exercise self-control

PATIENCE - L.MH (SKZ) ➛ the ability to accept delay, suffering, or annoyance

DILIGENCE - S.MG (ATZ) ➛ the persistent, determined, constant and earnest effort to complete a task

FAMINE ➛ riding on the night-black horse named fear, the dreaded horseman of famine gallops onward, denying the world life-sustaining food and bringing starvation

DEATH - K.HJ (ATZ) ➛ the pale rider or the pale horseman, is the leader of the horsemen of the apocalypse who's given authority to kill men and animal alike

WAR ➛ specializes in waging war between nations and people rather than internal strife

CONQUEST ➛ said to sweep across the world, unleashing civil war and internal strife

SERPENT - C.YJ (TXT) ➛ wound its way around the human heart and filled us with its poison

LAMB - S.CB (SKZ) ➛ represents purity, and its sacrifice was a symbol of repentance and submission

FORBIDDEN FRUIT - H.HJ (SKZ) ➛ the catalyst for the fall of man— when original sin entered creation and led to the reality we face every day

I already said thank you ik but writing has always been a passion for me. whether ive been here for a year or longer or shorter with more or less notes/followers, im just so grateful to have a platform that people engage with. thank you @desirehorizon for helping me with this event and their input. please make sure to check out their posts!! (and ofc thank you for google for the definitions lol)

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (19)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: mention of sex, manipulation, angst ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She didn't know what made her feel an unpleasant constriction in her stomach when she saw the Iron Throne out of the corner of her eye. She stopped, looking at it, standing in the half-light in the distance of the great throne room, illuminated only by the light of the torches.

She thought with pain and bitterness that everything that had happened, everything they had had to sacrifice and fight for, was only because of someone being able to sit on it and declare themselves the only legitimate ruler.

Greed flowed through the veins of Targaryens as much as fire and blood, she thought with dismay.

Sunk in her thoughts, she headed for the throne room, thinking in the back of her mind that even if her father and mother agreed to come to an agreement to build a truce on the foundation of their marriage, if she did not bear her uncle a son, her husband's faction would surely begin plotting against her mother despite the agreement.

Even if her husband remained faithful to her, she could never fully trust him, be sure that he was on her side.

The perpetual thought of betrayal was destroying her from the inside.

She knew that in a matter of days her moon bleeding should begin and she knew what it would mean.

Disappointment and danger.

This was why, every morning for the last few days, before she had even had time to truly wake up, she had sunk her hand between her thighs, feeling her insides clench with fear and terror as she sensed the moisture under her fingers, which then turned out to her relief to be only her wetness mingled with her husband's spend.

It made her draw in a loud breath and smile, for a moment believing that maybe a miracle would happen.

That the gods by making his seed take root in her womb would also indicate to the kingdom that what they wanted to do met with their approval.

Later in the day, however, all it took was for her to feel a discomfort in her lower abdomen, a slight sting or pain, a wetness between her thighs and a cold sweat would fall over her again. She would then lose her appetite and although she ate her morning meal in the presence of her husband, she would later lie that she had eaten a second meal during his training and duties.

She was unable to swallow anything out of fear.

She had the feeling that later when he took her, already as her legitimate husband, something inside her broke, all her terror, her doubts and despair spilled out of her like a rushing river.

She was afraid of his reaction, afraid of his certainty that it was impossible for them not to have succeeded in begetting an heir even though her whole body screamed that it could have been different, that it could be months or years before it happened, and they did not have that much time.

His words, however, took her completely by surprise.

You need to calm down.

Come to terms as I do with whatever the will of the heavens decides.

She didn't know why she suddenly felt burning tears under her eyelids, why her lower lip began to tremble, why her throat squeezed so tightly at the wonderful thought that he understood that no matter how much she begged the gods for their mercy, she had no control over what would happen.

He let her know that whatever would come to pass, he would not blame her.

That he would consider it the will of the gods and not her failure.

She made love to him for the second time that night in his chamber, the embrace of his strong arms tighter than usual, the touch of his hands more tender, his lips finding hers again and again in sticky, greedy kisses as the deep thrusts of his hips forced his swollen manhood into her.

Even though she was a prisoner, she felt free, even though her enemy was taking her, she felt safe, even though some part of her thought it a betrayal, she loved him deeper than ever before.

Her lover.

Her husband.

Her friend.

She hadn't understood when she was still a child how important was the bond they had created then, the long hours they spent at night in conversation, in discussions, sometimes even arguments, after which, however, they always found each other again, realizing that they didn't have to agree on all issues.

She realised, lying with her face cuddled into his naked chest, holding her hand over his lazily beating heart, enveloped tightly in his arms with her legs entwined with his, that although at the time, in the context of their future marriage, what they were doing seemed unimportant, it appeared that it was in fact the foundation of everything that had happened between them many years later.

Had it not been for the trust and affection they had for each other then, they would not have been able to find their way in this reality that faced them now.

"I am truly fond of you, uncle." She said softly, sitting in one of the chairs in his chamber facing him, similarly engrossed in her reading, swinging her legs that did not reach the ground. She realised, looking at him out of the corner of her eye, that she had never told him this and she was not sure he had ever heard such words from anyone.

He lifted his gaze to her and furrowed his eyebrows, as if for a moment he did not understand what she had said; his face expressed consternation and embarrassment, as if he was unsure whether he should respond as a man to such a confession.

However, he apparently decided after a moment that since it was not an overwhelming confession of girlish deep love, but a simple expression of affection, he could also express his opinion on the matter.

"Well…I'm fond of you too." He replied cautiously and grunted, turning back to his book, pretending to concentrate on his reading with all his might – she could see the vein in his neck pulsing rapidly, betraying his excitement.

"What do you appreciate most about me? I, for one, value in you that you know so many things and always listen to me attentively. When I don't know something, you don't mock me but explain everything to me. I like it when you teach me and when you look at my embroidery, when you choose the ones you find most beautiful. I am very grateful then." She said quickly on one exhale, swallowing loudly, overjoyed that he had responded to her words, wanting to take advantage of this and convey to him as much as possible at once, which of course overwhelmed him as he did not look at her for a moment, pressing his lips into a thin line.

It seemed to her that he was trying to hold back a smile, but she didn't know why.

He did a lot of things she didn't understand and refrained from emotional statements or gestures, however, it didn't bother her.

That was just the way he was.

She heard him swallow hard, gathering up the courage to reply something, pretending to look at what he was reading, although she was sure his mind was just analysing everything she had told him carefully.

"Well. I must admit that I also appreciate in you that you never mock me and listen attentively to what I have to say. I am fond of your presence, simply put." He muttered, clearly feeling that he was drowning more and more with every word he spoke, settling back in his chair a little, lifting his book higher, not wanting her to look at his face any longer.

She smiled contentedly then, happy, and went back to her reading without disturbing him any further.

She remembered that day exactly, for when she had escaped to him as she did every night, hiding under his bedclothes, she had fallen asleep almost immediately, tired after her long day full of duties. He waited apparently for her to fall asleep, hoping she wouldn't feel it as his hand touched her cheek, as his lips pressed against hers in a warm, soft, tender kiss.

She didn't move or open her eyes, feeling the heat in her lower abdomen, her heart began to pound like mad with delight, for he had never kissed her first before, never kissed her like this before.

She thought of that night and that day as she watched him standing on the other side of the chamber in the morning, his servant helping him dress his black, leather tunic while her maid tied the bodice of her gown.

Their gazes met for a moment and she saw him sigh heavily, unhappy at the thought of what awaited them.

Borros Baratheon.

The Lord of Storm's End appeared in King's Landing at midday, accompanied by his son and his daughter, who it was agreed was to marry her husband. The King called a gathering in the throne room, at which she and her uncle were also to be present, to try to face the consequences of their somewhat joint decision together.

She and her husband stepped into a great hall with tall windows with seven-pointed stars through a side entrance. She swallowed loudly when she caught sight of the silhouette of a postured man, his beard, hair and thick black eyebrows furrowed in disapproval and rage at the sight of her, his lips clenched as much as his fists. Her gaze fled to the right, to the girl standing next to him.

Maris Baratheon lifted her chin higher at the sight of her, struggling to hide the expression of frustration and disappointment in her eyes, clearly hoping that the woman who had stolen her prince would be an ordinary and bland girl, standing in the shadow of her dragon husband.

She, however, had specifically ordered her servants to leave her hair loose, for although when she was a child its colour had driven her to despair, now she saw it as her advantage – her dark and shiny curls fall in gentle waves down her exposed back, accentuating her fair skin and bare shoulders.

Her gown was modest, black and matte, with floral ornaments embroidered in gold threads on her chest, her sleeves reaching all the way down to the ground.

Anyone looking at them from afar could have the impression that her choice of attire was no accident, even more so standing next to her husband clad in a black leather tunic.

They looked alike.

Their evidence of unity and intimacy, a wordless expression of their bond.

She wondered if she could see from a distance the previously red and now slightly purple bruise on her neck, a reminder of her husband's greedy lips, and if she was aware of what it meant.

She pressed her lips together at the thought, trying not to smile and provoke her.

Although she couldn't call her ugly or rejecting, there was something harsh in her facial expression and posture – her elaborate hairstyle with her hair slicked back was perhaps fashionable, but it didn't suit her beauty or her face shape. Her gown, though rich, did not emphasise her assets, whatever they might be.

She thought she wanted to look haughty, to show her that while she was a lady of a respectable house, she was a mere bastard, even if the child of a princess.

Everyone turned their gazes towards the main gates when one of the guards announced the King himself; her uncle stepped into the throne room confidently without bestowing even a single glance on Borros Baratheon, Aegon the Conqueror's crown shone on his head in the glare of light trickling through the stained glass filled windows.

She felt her heart pound like mad as her uncle took his place on the throne, her mother's throne, and she clenched her eyelids, reminding herself that he had extended a hand of truce and that if she wanted the matter of succession to end bloodlessly, she had to control herself and give him respect.

She glanced out of the corner of her eye at her husband and swallowed loudly, seeing that he stood upright like a stone, all tense, his hands clasped behind his back, his silhouette expressing the same passive aggression she had felt from him when she appeared in the Red Keep after many years.

He was prepared for battle.

He was prepared to kill.

"My Lords. We are gathered here today to address a sensitive matter. Lord Borros Baratheon and his house have suffered an insult and have come to demand justice. My Lord." Aegon nodded, extending his hand, with this gesture showing him that he was allowing him to speak.

Lord Baratheon walked closer to the throne, followed by his heir and his daughter, her gaze full of poison and rage still fixed on her.

She did not look away.

She had no intention of giving her satisfaction.

"I have come to demand that the honourable Prince Aemond keep his mother's word and marry my daughter, Maris, according to his choice. I witnessed his arrival and that he confirmed in my presence my arrangements with the crown. Yet word has reached me that the Prince has secretly married another woman in a barbaric ceremony." Borros growled, his voice tubular and hoarse, full of strength and determination. She swallowed hard, feeling a squeeze in her stomach, a shiver of discomfort ran down her spine at his words.

She glanced at her husband feeling him move beside her restlessly, enraged, his lips pressed into a thin line.

He tried to remain silent and not explode.

Aegon nodded at his words with understanding.

"I understand your bitterness, my Lord. Indeed, our mother forced my brother to comply with her will. However, in my presence and that of our entire family, our father, and your King to whom you vowed, during the supper before his death, announced his will to us.

He conveyed to us that he was keeping the betrothal between my brother and my niece in force, foreseeing the division that would occur in the kingdom once he left this world. After his death, my mother imprisoned my niece and ordered my brother to fly to Storm's End.

Therefore, as you understand, my Lord, the case substituted in this light clearly proves that his decision could not have been in force, for as far as I am aware, it is the King's decision, not the Queen's, which is the final one." Said Aegon with a lightness that shocked both her and her husband.

She could not believe how good a speechmaker he was, with what ease he played with facts and half-truths, creating a image in which, indeed, his brother was in a no-win situation and their nuptials were an act of honour and a fulfilment of their late father's will.

Lord Baratheon drew in a loud breath, furious, his face all red with emotion.

"Are we to accept this insult in silence, then? They did not marry in the presence of witnesses, they did not marry in the Sept, so their marriage is invalid. I demand justice for myself and my daughter." He hissed, Aegon raised his hand, ordering him to be silent.

"I understand the source of your anger, my Lord. However, you have a right not to know that last night my brother married my niece in the presence of myself and my wife before the Septon, who prepared the appropriate act, and their marriage is valid in the eyes of the realm.

I recognise, however, the injustice that has befallen you and my brother has decided to donate part of his annual income as a dowry for your daughter. In addition, you or your son, that I leave to you, will be granted a seat on the Small Council in place of my grandfather, whose decisions led to this…misfortune."

He said softly; Borros pressed his lips together at his words, looking at Aegon with piercing eyes, clearly not knowing himself what he thought of what he had heard.

He hesitated.

After a moment, however, a woman's voice echoed in the throne room.

"It is impossible, my King. No one will marry a woman who has already been touched by another man. The Prince has taken my maidenhood."

All gathered began to speak loudly, shocked by her words – she felt her heart leap into her throat, her stomach squeezed so tightly that she had trouble catching her breath.

She and Aegon looked at her uncle at the same moment, her husband standing as if stunned, his healthy eye wide open, his mouth parted in disbelief. After a moment, however, his shock was replaced by an expression of anger and fury, he took a step forward like a lion about to lash out at its prey.

"Lie." He growled, the voices of conversation and disbelief all around them even louder, the King twisted in his throne, completely not expecting this turn of events.

"How can we be sure that it was my brother who deprived you of your…virtue, my Lady?" He asked quickly, wanting to turn her confession against her, in case it appeared that her uncle was guilty, to accuse her of being able to be taken by any other man.

She lowered her gaze, breathing loudly through her mouth, feeling the cold sweat run down the back of her neck, her hands clenched on her womb quivering as much as her body.

No, he would never have done something like this.

He wouldn't deprive a woman of her maidenhood knowing he wouldn't marry her.

Was she sure of that?

Maybe he took her as his wife that night because he felt remorse after betraying her?

She felt tears of despair welling up under her eyelids at that thought, feeling that for a moment she was in the throne room with only her body, no longer seeing the proud look of Maris who grinned seeing the expression on her face.

"I ran after the Prince once he wanted to leave. He took me in one of the corridors of our fortress against my will." She said without a shadow of embarrassment, as if dragging him down behind her was more important to her than her own honour.

She wanted to become his wife, the Prince's wife at any cost.

"Maris, good gods…" Mumbled her father, looking at her in disbelief, all red with shame at her confession, shocked as the others by what had left her mouth, knowing full well that she was not telling the truth.

"Disgusting lies. I followed my nephew out the stronghold and returned to the Red Keep to fulfil my duty to my father that same night. It was not your maidenhood I took then, shameless woman." He growled, and she felt heat in her heart and a burst of pride at his words.

Even though he had used lie against lie − after all, she was no longer a maiden then − the way Lord Baratheon's daughter swallowed her saliva, the way her body shivered under the weight of his words made her lift her chin, looking at her with superiority.

Insolent whore.

Aegon raised his hands in the air, clearly amused by the situation, ordering everyone to remain silent.

"As I see it, opinions are divided on what happened. Lord Baratheon is a party. Is there anyone else who could confirm your version of events, my Lady?" He asked lightly; the girl looked at him breathing heavily, her hands clenched on her lower abdomen. Aegon looked to the side, directing his gaze to his brother.

"And you, brother, can anyone confirm your words?"

"My nephew." He answered without hesitation.

She swallowed hard, reminding herself that he had, after all, allowed her to meet her brother, and the king wasn't aware of it.

That he could be accused of treason, lose Aegon's support.

"We exchanged a few unpleasant sentences before I returned to King's Landing. Only a brief moment passed between the time he left and our conversation. Certainly not enough for even the most desperate man to possess a woman."

"Who will believe the words of a traitor? Was it not he who took away your eye, my Prince? Did he take something else from you along with it?" She asked mockingly, her father looked at her in horror, his lips forming a silent, warning 'enough'.

She heard her husband draw in his breath loudly, his knuckles clicking in his fingers as he squeezed them as hard as if he wanted to break them himself.

"You were there, my Lord. You know that she did not run after me, and even if she had, she would have gained nothing. I chose her because she was most different from my wife. Lest she might ever think that I could lust after your daughter." He replied with a cold, deep hiss that echoed through the throne room.

She felt a wave of delightful satisfaction run down her body, and though she knew her husband's cruel words might have cost them everything, the look of disbelief on Maris' face was more than worth it.

Did she really believe that he had chosen her because she was the most beautiful of her sisters?

That he could ever desire her when she, his childhood friend, his confidante and lover was by his side?

"I do not know what I saw." Borros replied, however, without his previous confidence, not looking at him or the King, apparently trying with his last strength to protect his and his daughter's honour. Her husband snorted at these words.

"Pathetic." He sneered quietly, not daring to say it out loud; it seemed to her that his whole figure was trembling.

He was furious.

"If I were your daughter, I would be wary of such far-fetched accusations without any evidence or witnesses, my Lord. Some might call it as treason." Aegon replied, spreading out comfortably on his throne.

She couldn't believe some part of her admired him for how he was playing with the situation while still keeping what was happening under control.

Lord of Storm's End did not respond to his words.

Aegon's words were the nail in the coffin of whatever plan Lord Baratheon's daughter had in her head, and after her humiliating outburst, Borros agreed to the terms set by the king himself and the amount of her dowry, which her uncle-husband would pay out of his purse.

She watched with satisfaction and an involuntary smile on her lips as Lord Baratheon and his daughter were forced to sign the terms of the agreement imposed on them by her uncle.

Borros left the throne room like a storm, furious, without even bowing to Aegon, to which he only responded with an amused expression on his face.

Maris didn't dare look at her anymore, her face pale, from a distance she could see how red her eyes were from tears.

She wished to be a princess in a beautiful castle.

She could be his Rhaenys, but she had no intention of allowing any Visenya into their lives.

Even if it was one night in ten, she couldn't bear the thought of having to share him.

Fortunately, her husband was as possessive as she was.

The smile disappeared from her face as she felt an unpleasant, familiar stinging sensation inside her lower abdomen.

She clamped her hand over her womb as something warm and sticky ran down her thigh, a whine of despair and pain stuck in her throat as she pressed her lips together.

She took a step backwards, revealing the stone floor under her feet, and noticed a few drops of crimson liquid on it.

She was bleeding.

[tsvwords]

We’ve built a hollow world, a dying world, with hunger at its core, and the hunger only keeps on growing. And the people who rule over your lives - we’re very much like the gods we try so hard to sell you on.

We’re hungry, and we’re frightened, and we’re utterly self-interested, and we want to live to keep on eating you for as long as we can. ​We will give birth to terrors we cannot control, to give ourselves an advantage against the competition in our own petty squabbles for supremacy, and we’ll spend great fortunes on finding ways to make our atrocities sound pretty and sustainable and safe.

And when you try to tell us this, we will reply that you’ve been duped by undergraduate simplicity, you’re being unreasonable and you’re being naive - because it’s childish stuff to blame us for the horrors before your own eyes, and the world is really a more complicated place than you’ve painted it. 

And the world is complicated, it’s true - but at the end of the day you will still be caught up in its clutches and devoured, and we will let it happen to you.

Yes, the world is complicated, and people are too. But greed and hunger are simple truths, and the more justifications we find, the harder it becomes to face them.

Worse yet - if we try to tear ourselves away from them now, if we no longer offer up prayers or sacrifices to these idols - we’ll come away broken.

Life will become harder. The soil will turn barren. The nameless things we used to love and that we thought loved us in turn - they’ll turn on us with desperate, hungering fury.

— Chapter 43: One Last Song of Revelations.