#burning down the brothel and murdering his father

[thatswhatsushesaid]

characters who are oriented towards survival and self-preservation often look to other characters who are in more stable positions socially (and are similarly interpreted by some readers) as being exclusively self-interested. which is, i suppose, not a completely inaccurate interpretation. prioritizing one's survival is a type of self-interest. but it is self-interest that comes from a place of not wanting to, you know. die.

--- this post has been added to my dreamwidth meta archive here: https://thatswhatsushewrote.dreamwidth.org/4706.html

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (4/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: fingering & oral sex, a kind of triangle, smut, the angst, description of the effects of murder, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power, manipulation, violence ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

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

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

The boy's death had devastated her.

Even though it was a strange child to her, in addition from a family she despised, it was still small and innocent – she had seen Prince Jaehaerys accompanied by servants escorting him to his morning classes when she herself had gone out to meet his uncle, to practice on Vhagar the commands as she did every day.

Knowing that her father had done this made her feel a partial sense of guilt for what had happened, though she did not understand why.

Was it because she was born of his poisoned seed?

That a part of him lived inside her?

She knew it was revenge for Lucerys' death, but after all, the little prince had nothing to do with it.

The death of an innocent being always hurt the most.

She watched his funeral procession from outside the windows of the Red Keep, from her prison that was her small chamber, thinking of her one-eyed cousin.

Were you with that fucking old whore whose tits you like to cuddle up to?

With your second mummy?

She didn't know why his lowered head, his face and big eye filled with tears of shame made her feel sympathy towards him.

However, the death of King's son made her reflect on her own life and what she had experienced in it.

She realised that she had lived for years as if in lethargy, spending her time riding horses and hunting, even though in the midst of her family, in fact always remaining alone.

She realised that she had never even kissed a man.

She had never experienced a touch that was tender, that was pleasurable, that made her feel safe.

She bit her lower lip, pacing around her room, suddenly getting an idea that was extremely dangerous.

Her cousin was interested in women – this she knew for sure – and after being humiliated by his brother in front of everyone gathered he would certainly not return to the brothel to his lover, whoever she was.

From what she understood, this woman was older than him, giving him fulfilment not only physically, but also purely childlike.

She knew he was weak, but now she also had the certainty that he was miserable.

She couldn't try to seduce him directly, offer to spend the night in his bed – he would send her away immediately, furious, knowing what she wanted to do and how she hoped to achieve it.

She had to show him what he could have, while at the same time not offering it to him herself.

She had to make him desire whatever she was in his mind.

"I want to ask you something, cousin." She muttered, standing over him with a jug of wine, wondering what she was doing. "And I know you won't like it."

She saw him freeze, looking ahead.

"You like to take risks, don't you?" He sneered, taking a deep sip of wine from his goblet without even bestowing a single glance on her.

His vision was hazy, his mind dulled by the wine.

He was weak, vulnerable, heartbroken by what had happened to his nephew, sunk in guilt.

This was her chance.

"No, but you give me no choice. I will fly with you and the will of the gods will happen, as you desire. However, the chance of me dying in flames or being devoured is just as great as the chance of me succeeding." She said uncertainly, and he sighed heavily, impatient, setting his cup down on the table.

"What do you want?"

She licked her lower lip, feeling her heart pounding like mad in her chest, cold sweat trickling down her back.

He would fall into a fury or fuck her, there was no other option left.

"Servant. I want to choose one and take him to my bed. I don't want to die without having any idea of this sensations." She muttered.

She saw that he froze motionless, his healthy eye open wide in shock.

Oh gods.

"Aren't you ashamed to ask something like that out loud? What self-respecting Lord will want you after this?" He asked coldly, annoyed, however it was not as aggressive a response as she had expected.

He himself didn't know what he thought of it, she thought.

Good.

"I don't care what the lords will think of me. If I become a dragon rider, my maidenhood will be the least of their worries. I have no desire to become either a wife or a mother. I could try to hide it from you, but I stand here before you and ask your permission like a dog." She said with a certainty that surprised her, recognising that her directness was due to the fact that she was partly telling the truth.

He was silent for a long time, his lips pressed together in a thin line, his finger in some involuntary reflex began to tap against the table top.

"Knowing what you ask, my soul will have no peace unless I am assured that no man has taken you by force."

There it is.

"I'll let you watch if it will soothe your conscience." She said without stammering, his grin turned towards her making her feel an uncomfortable shiver.

"It will."

Finding a willing person turned out not to be too difficult: she simply lied to the man she found handsome that the prince liked to look at such things and that it was his idea.

What could he do to her for those words even if he found out about it?

Were they not partly true?

Her whole body quivered in excitement and disbelief as, lying beneath Tyland Lannister's servant, she heard his lazy footsteps, felt his gaze on them, the fiery, thirsty lips of her lover pressed against hers.

It was a surprisingly wet and slick experience, not as pleasurable as she had imagined, however, it was not all that bad.

She swallowed hard, hearing her cousin sit down in a chair in the distance, and flinched when the man's hand suddenly clamped down on her breast, causing an unpleasant chill to pass through her.

"– no –" She whispered, tightening her hand on his wrist. "– not yet –"

She exhaled quietly, closing her eyes as she felt him take his hand away, trailing it instead around her waist, trying to feel what she had felt when her cousin had leaned over her face after she had fainted.

Serve me well and I will reward you.

When the time comes.

She felt it, that wonderful pulsing between her thighs, and sighed, opening her eyelids, involuntarily glancing at him. Her breath froze in her throat, her womanhood swelled all over as she met his gaze, dark and hot, his legs crossed, his head cocked in curiosity.

She gasped, feeling a squeeze in her throat and a cold shudder when the boy's body suddenly pressed her against the bed, constricting her space, making her fingers tighten on the back of his tunic in terror.

Is this how it should be?

Should she be so afraid, feel so cornered?

"– slow down –" She heard his voice, deep and displeased – her lover looked at him, surprised, panting heavily.

"– Your Highness? –"

"– slow down, I said –" He repeated with a kind of threat in his voice from which her lips parted in disbelief, some sense of gratitude and warmth spread through her heart, a pleasant stickiness sweeping from between her thighs down her buttocks.

He was protecting her, she thought, feeling the situation begin to slip out of her control.

This was exactly what she wanted.

Make me feel safe, she thought pleadingly, but no words left her lips.

Shame overwhelmed her.

"– sink your fingers between her thighs – prepare her properly –" He instructed the boy, her eyes grew big as she stared at him in disbelief – his nostrils twitched in excited breath, the corner of his mouth lifted in a dangerous smirk.

A sigh left her throat as the servant lifted her skirt and smallclothes, her gaze fixed on her cousin's face as his hand found her leaking, fleshy womanhood.

She moaned.

However, after a moment she flinched and swallowed hard, closing her eyes as she felt his fingers touch a very tender, sensitive spot, giving her pleasure and pain at the same time, not knowing what she herself felt, tears burning under her eyelids.

Why did it feel like this?

Why couldn't she enjoy it, why was she losing focus?

"– step back, boy –" She heard his voice, and then noticed that he moved towards them, startling her and him – she rose up on her elbows, panting heavily as he pulled her forward, sitting behind her back, pulling her close, his legs on either side of her body.

His arms embraced her lightly, his hand tilting her head back, allowing her to spread out comfortably while not taking away her sense of security.

She swallowed hard, feeling something long and hard pulsate behind her, pressing against her buttocks.

Good gods.

She gasped as she felt him press his nose against her hot cheek, his thumb running over her jaw as his free hand forced her to bend her legs at the knees, exposing her bare thighs.

"– bend over and lick her –" He commanded, running his full lips over the skin of her face, making her feel a simultaneous shudder of pleasure and terror shake her, his hand trailing down the exposed skin of her thigh.

Lick her?

What did he mean by that?

What purpose did it serve?

"– what? –" She mumbled, terrified, involuntarily reaching back with her hand, clamping it over his long white hair, wanting to pull away, hitting his hard body again.

She had nowhere to run.

"– easy – let me take care of this –" He whispered in her ear, making her moan stuck in her throat, her nipples became hard at his words, her throbbing walls clenching around nothing.

Let me take care of this.

He knew.

He knew what she craved.

She stifled a breath as the man obediently leaned between her thighs, a terrified, pathetic, surprised moan escaping her throat when she felt something warm and sticky slip between her tight, swollen slit.

His tongue.

She clenched her hand harder in his white hair, feeling her cousin's hand slide down her leg, to the very spot her lover had touched earlier – this time, however, she didn't feel the unpleasant pain as his fingertips merely circled around her oversensitive little bud, causing her to leak, stimulated from the inside and outside.

"– ah – oh, gods, t-too much, too much –" She mewled in despair as she tried to pull away from him, never having experienced a similar sensation before, he, however, held her in an iron grip, his free hand sliding from her face under the material of her gown, to her breasts.

"– you wanted it yourself – go on –" He said matter-of-factly in a way that sent a shiver through her – she tilted her head back, feeling the servant's tongue accelerate, forcing its way again and again deep inside her hot, throbbing cunt.

In some subconscious, involuntary reflex, she sought refuge, not knowing what to do with the waves of tickling pleasure and tension that were rising in her body, so she turned her face towards him and he leaned in, letting their foreheads touch.

For some reason she wanted to cry.

He was so close.

The gentle touch of his hand between her thighs, his thumb teasing lazily her hard nipple, his hot breath on her face, his embrace was too familiar, too safe.

"– if only you were my little sister – I'd caress you like this every night – would you like it? –" He breathed out encouragingly, and she shuddered all over in his arms, feeling her lover's tongue hit the sweet spot inside her again and again, her and her cousin's hips beginning to rub against each other, his manhood unashamedly hard and swollen.

If only you were my little sister.

I want this, she thought.

I want to be what you want me to be.

"– what would your father say at the sight of this – hm? – do you think he would be proud? –" He whispered, sinking his fingers into the throbbing folds of her moist womanhood, weeping with desire, teasing with lazy, slow circles her little bud.

She felt tears under her eyelids as she shook her head.

She didn't know.

She didn't know what her father would say to this sight.

He wasn't there for her.

He hadn't protected her.

"– you like it, don't you? – I can feel you're close – come on his face –" He exhaled and she shook her head, moaning from exertion, feeling something approaching, the tingling tension between her thighs unbearable, her breath heavy and hitched, droplets of sweat running down her skin.

"– g-gods, stop –" She mumbled out with difficulty, feeling that she couldn't take it any longer, and then she was shaken by a pleasure foreign and overpowering, hot and sweet, flowing in waves through her whole body, her lips, her nipples, her fingertips, her silken walls clenching around nothing.

For a moment she heard or saw nothing, heard his soothing whisper, his warm breath enveloping her face, his hands closed over her womanhood and over her breasts just continued to press against her skin, allowing her to calm down.

"You may leave. If you tell anyone about this, I will cut your tongue out." She heard his cold voice, but knew it wasn't meant for her – the man lying between her thighs had risen and simply stepped off the bed, leaving them alone, and she sighed loudly, as if she had just accomplished some extraordinary, demanding feat.

She didn't know why she had sought refuge in his embrace, why she had turned in his arms and snuggled into his body, burying her face in his neck, why she had felt nothing but peace as one of his hands lay on her back while the other slowly stroked her hair.

One by one tears ran down her cheeks, shame, relief and sadness spilling over her heart, making her only able to lie down and breathe. She closed her eyes, concentrating on his scent, the warmth of his body that pulsed almost imperceptibly, his manhood pushing against her stomach, his hands trailing gently over her body.

She thought that he was certainly proud of himself, but she decided that it didn't matter.

She needed his arms, she needed to hide, to disappear, to melt into him as one, not to think, not to feel, not to exist.

She fell asleep.

When she awoke, it was late afternoon – there was no one in the chamber but her, however, she knew it was not a dream.

Her bedding was soaked with his scent.

She wasn't sure who had benefited from what had happened. She decided, however, surprised by this discovery, that she did not regret it and did not intend to think about it again.

It had never happened.

As he had ordered, she was already ready before dawn, waiting for him in the courtyard in her riding attire, his mother, clearly displeased with his idea, tried to stop him, to his apparent annoyance.

"You cannot leave the Red Keep without Vhagar. Who will protect us?" She asked, and her son rolled his eyes, impatient, licking his lower lip.

"I leave you in the care of Sunfyre and Dreamfyre. May my brother be of some use for once. With the help of the gods, we will return in about four days with a new dragon on our side." He said and stepped around her, mounting his horse and nodding at her to do the same.

When they reached Vhagar's lair, the dragoness raised lazily her large head, looking at them curiously – having seen her almost every day, she had already become accustomed to her presence and scent, remaining calm.

"Come." He said, and she moved to follow him, seeing that he had taken in his hands some of the bags his horse had been carrying on its back earlier.

She walked behind him, never coming this close to her, watching as the prince tied the grey bags to the ropes hanging from the saddle.

"What are you waiting for? Climb up." He said, glancing at her impatiently, and she nodded, surprised by his directness.

They both had no intention of showing that what had happened had affected them in any way.

Being with him meant a constant battle for dominance.

So be it, she thought and glanced up, sighing quietly.

She was afraid that Vhagar would not be happy that someone other than her rider was trying to climb onto her back, she, however, merely tilted her head towards her and watched her, not moving from her place.

"Lykirī, Vhagar. Lykirī." Her cousin reassured her as she, panting heavily, climbed with great difficulty over one of the ropes to her very back and sat down in the large leather saddle.

She blinked as her cousin appeared at her side shortly afterwards, as if covering the same distance hadn't caused him any trouble, and sat behind her, pulling the bags up, using the ropes so that they weren't hanging down.

She grunted, leaning forward, hugging the front of the saddle, feeling him all too clearly, his body pressed against her buttocks and back. She shuddered as he slipped his hands under her shoulders, grabbed a couple of the front ropes and called out loudly.

"Sōvēs!"

She squealed, terrified, hugging the saddle as the dragoness suddenly rose up on her paws, moving forward with a loud thump, and closed her eyes as she spread her great wings and flapped them, struggling to slowly lift herself into the air.

She had never experienced something so terrifying and liberating at the same time.

It wasn't until Vhagar had stabilised her flight and was gliding through the heavens that she dared to open her eyes – she froze in awe, seeing clouds all around her, doing what other people could only dream of.

Indeed, there was something wonderful about it, she thought with delight.

In the freedom that flight in the skies offered.

She leaned against the front of the saddle, simply looking ahead with a smile, watching the sun rise in the distance. She drew in a loud breath, feeling her heart beat harder as his cheek pressed against hers, apparently resting in this position.

She felt his erection pushing against her buttocks again, but neither of them spoke.

It was just a man's natural reaction to a woman's closeness, nothing more, she thought.

She knew he was playing with her – she knew he already understood what she wanted.

What she needed.

Tenderness.

Care.

Shelter.

This was why he nuzzled his nose into her cheek, why he persisted in this position: he wanted to break her, wanted her to love what he could be for her.

She felt tears under her eyelids, her eyebrows arching in pain knowing that it was all just a lie.

Her father would never come back for her, and even if he did, it would only be for the sake of the dragon, if she could tame it.

But not for her.

She was of no value to either of them.

As they landed with a thud on the ground in the middle of a wasteland full of hills, evening was approaching. It was only when she opened her eyes, horrified by how intense the landing itself had been, that she realised that her cousin had not chosen this place without reason.

He must have noticed from above what she could see clearly now – vast expanses of black, scorched earth with dozens of animal skeletons.

She shuddered as she heard her cousin untie the bags they had taken with them, letting them fall to the ground, and after a moment he slid down the rope to the bottom, landing lightly on the ground himself.

"Come here."

She made big eyes, feeling that this height terrified her. She swallowed hard, turning her back, grabbing the line and squealed as she suddenly slid down it with far too much speed, thinking she was just going to kill herself.

She gasped as she felt someone's arms soften her fall, supporting her, his impatient sigh told her it was not a graceful jump.

"Get yourself together. We're going to recon. It's fresh tracks, it must not be far." He said, and she nodded, feeling her legs grow all stiff from the long hours of travelling in the saddle.

Her cousin looked around, as if trying to remember this place and how they were supposed to get back here, then moved ahead quickly, making her have to almost run after him.

"When we find it. What should I do? Approach it right away?" She exhaled, following him step by step.

"Mmm. No, you'd better not do anything rash. No sudden movements. You can't make a mistake." He said coldly, and she swallowed hard, thinking in the back of her mind that it was easy for him to say.

However, despite all the absurdity of the situation, she felt excitement.

If she succeeded, she would return to King's Landing on the back of her own dragon.

They climbed one of the peaks, from which they could see clearly in the distance the lying silhouette of Vhagar, the fields, hills and valleys, but not a trace of the dragon. Her cousin pressed his lips together, frustrated.

He thought this would be easier, and the dragon would come to them on its own, she thought with a sneer, but she dared not provoke him, knowing that they were both tired.

"We must turn back. It will be dark soon. We will start tomorrow before sunrise, moving in the opposite direction." He ordered and she nodded, following obediently behind him, looking around at the familiar landscapes.

She had an advantage over him here, she thought.

She knew these places, she knew these people.

So why didn't she feel the need to run away?

When they returned to Vhagar's liege, darkness surrounded them. Her cousin had picked up a few long, thick branches on the way, and when they sat down on the grass he laid them down and lit a fire using a flint he had taken from one of his bags.

She did not ask his permission, which did not escape his notice as she untied one of them and began rummaging through it.

"What are you doing?" He asked matter-of-factly, adding wood to the fire, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"What did you take for us as nourishment?" She answered with a question to a question, causing him to merely turn his face away from her, trying to control himself for sure and not hurt her with his own hands.

"Bread and smoked meat." He said, and she sighed, pulling out a waterskin with spring water, drinking a few deep sips from it.

"If I had known that this would be our sustenance for the next few days, I would have asked you to bring a bow with us and I would have provided our meal myself." She said regretfully, and his face turned abruptly towards her.

"You don't need to eat. You will survive on water alone until our return to King's Landing." He hissed, meeting her tired, weary gaze.

"I have cooked many times while hunting with my uncle. It's a useful skill." She replied, pulling a woollen blanket from the pouch with which she covered herself.

Although Vhagar lay beside them, they were high between the hills where a strong, chilly wind was blowing.

She knew the night would be difficult.

Her cousin no longer spoke to her, gazing into the flames as if he could see something in them, his past or his future, his silhouette sitting on the Iron Throne or his fall from the heavens.

Finally, he lay down on the uncomfortably hard ground, placing one of his bags under his head, covering himself with the other blanket, and turned his back to her.

They couldn't sleep too close to Vhagar, for there was a risk that she would simply crush them by turning in her sleep. Therefore, they had to lie at a great distance from her, and their only source of heat was the fire.

She closed her eyes, trying not to think as her teeth began to chatter, her body trembling, her hands clenched into fists with each stronger gust of wind.

If this kept up, they'd both wake up with a fever.

"I'm cold." She said.

Silence.

A long one.

"I'm really cold. Aren't you?" She mumbled, guessing that he was suffering as much as she was, but would sooner die than admit it.

Targaryens and their fucking pride.

She stood up and walked a few steps with her blanket towards him, causing him to have exactly the reaction she wanted – he raised himself on his elbow and looked towards her, his jaw clenched in frustration.

"You have no shame."

"I don't care about shame. I'm supposed to die in dragon fire, not from the cold." She said and lay down beside him, slipping under his blanket, covering them with the other to create a thicker layer to protect them from the cold.

He slumped to the ground, letting the air out loudly, looking up at the stars as if he had given up. She embraced him, but not because she sought safety in his arms, but because he was a source of warmth that she wanted to cling to at all costs, hugging her face to his chest.

They stayed like that in silence, not moving – at first his whole body was tense, as if he thought that what she had done was just an excuse for her to slip her hand under his breeches and shamelessly try to seduce him – he relaxed, however, when he realised that all she really wanted was to lie in the warmth, and since he himself apparently felt better, also warmed by her presence, he said nothing more.

"What did you feel when you tamed Vhagar?" She whispered, looking ahead at the outline of the hills and mountains around them, feeling the cool breeze on her cheeks.

She was sure he wouldn't answer and felt herself begin to slowly fall asleep when she heard his quiet voice.

"Relief."

She blinked, surprised, not expecting him to put it this way.

Relief.

"Why?" She dared to ask further, still not looking at him, his heart hidden beneath the material of his tunic and cloak hit hard.

"I gave my family a reason to be proud." He explained, a note of bitterness in his words, as if something in that memory was painful to him.

She pressed her lips into a thin line, thinking with disappointment that she had never been anyone's pride.

Nothing she did mattered – not really.

She felt a single, lone tear run down her cheek onto the material of his leather coat and inhaled loudly, saying nothing more.

She shuddered, pulled out of her reverie when he slided his arm out from between their bodies – she froze when she felt him embrace her, cuddling her into his body, his fingers running through her soft hair as his cheek rested against her forehead.

She snuggled into him, into the merciless substitute of a protector he was to her, feeling the warmth in her chest as he let her face sink into his neck.

She knew that a part of him sympathised with her – she knew that, like her, he understood that in a day or two she might die for his cause, and so in some twisted definition of duty he tried to give her what she had craved all her life as a consolation prize for what she might lose.

It was so pathetic that she clenched her eyes shut and let heavy tears of shame run down her cheeks, her breath hitched and heavy, filled with pain.

She let him do this, let him take advantage of her desperation, the fact that she wanted so much to satisfy his vanity, because of how unavailable he reminded her of her father – by satisfying him, in her mind she was satisfying the man on whose lap she had sat as a small child, imagining that he had given her a second chance.

He created a lie for her to be able to endure what he was condemning her to.

"If you succeed. If you tame a dragon." He whispered, and she froze, feeling that he was about to reveal something vital to her, some secret he had never told anyone. "I will treat you like my little sister. I will care for you, and your place will always be by my side."

She shook her head, thinking how cruel he was, knowing exactly what to say, what to do to break her heart, to bend her to his will, to make sure she never betrayed him.

She cried out helplessly as he hugged her tighter to his body, as he cupped her cheek in his broad palm, rough from wielding his sword, and pressed his forehead against hers in a gesture that was too intimate, too tender, too sweet.

"I will protect you."

[naomikozura]

Love of My Life: Part 2

Heian Era! True Form! Ryomen Sukuna x Sorcerer!Fem!Reader

A/N: I want to put an actual paragraph warning in here. Remember this is Sukuna’s story during the Heian Era, using bits and pieces from what I've researched on JJK and him during this era.

This chapter shows INTENSE GRUESOME SCENES including torture, psychological torture, abuse, massacres, and burning buildings. This is a DARK THEME story, it is meant as a work of FICTION and its 18+ ONLY MDNI!!!!

Warnings: strong language, violence, mention of mass murder, angst, generational trauma, complicated family dynamics, family abuse, murder, emotional turmoil and abuse, manipulation, sadistic tendencies, corruption of power, dark themes, burning down villages, murder, masochistic tendencies, sadistic behavior, decapitation, prostitution, sex scenes (in a brothel), torture, psychological torture, (lmk if I missed any!)

WC: 10.2K Series Masterlist

Part 1 || Part 3

The night was quiet, the aftereffects of your fight still lingering in the air. You hadn’t spoken to them for the rest of the evening, letting yourself sit with the hurt of your father’s words.  Your eyes were red, puffy from the silent tears you shed in the past hour. 

Defective. Wasted potential. Disgrace. 

Why has this been your life? Why were you born into one of the Four? Did you live a cruel existence in a past life, were you paying for the sins of your ancestors? Your father despised you being his daughter, hated that his claim was weakened because you were a daughter instead of a son, that you would never be as powerful as the sons of the other Families. You did everything to bring honor to your family. You studied, you trained, you focused on your inherited technique, you brought peace between villages with your kindness and political intelligence, you tried for the better part of your life to mold yourself into what your father wanted. You obeyed his demands, agreed to his greedy power tactics, even believed you were okay marrying Zetsubou  Zen’in when deep down you didn’t want to. You were more than just a pawn in his game, more than means to an end, more than just something to solidify your family name in the realm and create a greater power. 

Little did he know he was slowly pushing you to your brink. You believed you controlled yourself well, keeping composed in even the worst of situations but your composure slowly started to crumble with every new task he had for you. The pressure slowly built up and you couldn’t take it anymore, you didn’t want to sell your life away just for someone else to gain all the power. 

What a cruel life you were given. 

“Y/n”, you felt your heart skip a beat, a low rumble vibrating through you as your bones became hyper aware of who called your name. You turned around, your eyes meeting his deep red ones as he stood in your bedroom. You didn’t even begin to wonder how he got in, he was a gifted sorcerer, he could do anything.

“Ryo..”, you called his given name, not remembering when you had started but when he showed no distaste in your doing so, you continued to call him by name. 

“Come.”, it was all he needed to say as you nodded, slipping on your night robe and your shoes before following him through the back door of your home. You stayed glued to his side as he led you through the woods, suddenly realizing he was using his technique to hide both your cursed energy. He’d put a veil over the both of you to camouflage from any scouts patrolling the woods. 

Silence fell over the both of you, walking for about a half hour before reaching the end of the woods, a blue lake illuminated by the moon at the bottom of a slight hill. The water was bright, the moon reflecting beautifully to light up the water in a serene and breathtaking way. 

“The ground here is loose.”, he said blankly before grabbing you, picking you up in his arms as you sank into him, letting your head rest in the curve between his jaw and shoulder. He had a musk to him, a woodsy smell that brought comfort over you and let you relax into his touch. 

You wondered if you were the first person he’d touched like this? Deep down you knew he’d probably indulge in the company of concubines, he was a man with needs and one many couldn’t refuse. You were certain many of the women would jump at an opportunity to have the King of Curses in their bed. A sting grew in your chest at the thought. 

Once he’d reached the bottom, he set you down on the grass, your body small in comparison to his. He stared at you with curious eyes, the dichotomy of your existence in contrast with his was a wonder to him. He was grueling, sadistic, had the body that would make anyone recoil on sight, and held no remorse in his actions towards others. Meanwhile, you were kind, intimate, beautiful, and gifted. You had three of the most powerful names in this era asking for your hand in marriage, every man in surrounding towns having heard of the L/n daughter who was the heir to the L/n bloodline and being gifted with the Eye of Aurora. He knew your ability was powerful, strong enough to possibly even go head to head with him once you’d reached its full potential. Deep down he already knew you’d be considered one of the strongest sorcerer’s in the Heian era once you reached your full ability. 

He hadn’t come to terms with his reasoning for letting you live, for helping you, for feeling intense amounts of cursed energy at your distress. He wasn’t a man of emotion nor empathy. He saw emotion as a weakness, mundane, meaningless. He hated weak humans, despised the sight of overly emotional lackeys and often killed them on sight or elongated their emotional distress with mental torture. Emotion was something he disregarded and found useless, and yet it was the very thing that kept him from even thinking of bringing harm onto you. 

Was this punishment for his track record of horrific slayings? Were you sent by some being to punish him with your existence?

“Why are we here?”, your red eyes met his gaze, something in his chest burning at the sight of your defeated stare. He could tell you’d been crying, he felt your distress from across the realm and it burned him alive. He’d almost crossed across the entire woods just to show at your home and end your father’s life for laying a hand on you. 

“Your father.”, he started roughly. “He’s a pathetic excuse of a man, an insolent waste of human flesh.”

Your tired eyes widened at the hatred dripping from his lips, the words filled with venom as his eyes darkened. You’d heard about his anger and wrath among the scribes in your village, it was enough to wipe out an entire population and he’d done it multiple times before. You knew if he truly wanted to, he could end your father’s life with no hesitation.

You looked down at the water, watching as the water moved and the ripples distorted the moon, your chest hurting as it contracted. “He…”, you choked on your words, the break in your voice creating a rise of energy in him. “He thinks I’m defective, a disgrace to our family.”

His eyes looked over at you, the burning in his chest growing larger. 

“He threatened to get the elders from the Zen’in clan to exorcize my ability and… let me die without our ancestral guides”

He wasn’t much for believing in spiritual practices, but you’d grown up believing you needed your ancestors to guide you to the next life. it was a common belief within the families especially when you came face to face with cursed spirits constantly. They’d always been exorcized and seeing them cry out as you did knowing they’d just die, you wanted to believe there was a place where your soul could rest easy in the after. 

You felt a whirl of his cursed energy, feeling the rage boiling inside of him. A part of you feared what could happen to your father if Sukuna really wanted to get rid of him, but another sadistic, cruel part of you that you’d never encountered before told you that your father deserved whatever he had coming to him. After years of his grueling expectations, you started to hate your father for his greedy and selfish ways. You knew deep down in the hidden depths of your heart that you couldn’t bring yourself to feel remorse if he died. 

The exorcism of cursed energy was painful, you could easily say that due to how spirits cried when they would get absorbed. The exorcism of an inherited special ability was far worse. You’d heard stories of Yu L/n. He’d been exorcized of the Eye of Aurora and executed after he’d wiped out an entire village because he couldn’t control his technique. It was a horror story, a gruesome tale, it scared you to no end at the possibility that the same could happen to you. An exorcism of a special technique meant death. It was the most grueling way to torture and kill someone, leaving them alive meant they’d be a shell of a human, struggling and living at a lesser quality of life. No humane person would allow someone to live in such agony. Inherited techniques were bonded to the inheritors soul, binding together to make the energy and the human soul one for whatever lifespan the sorcerer had. It was the reason manipulation and control was easy for those who inherited special abilities, because it was connected to them in every way down to the genetic makeup of their bodies. 

You stood next to him in silence, your body numb of emotion as you recounted everything your father had said to you. Were you really wasted potential? Were you really defective? 

“I’ll kill him.”, his voice vibrated, your eyes staring at him while he focused on the body of water in front of the both of you. “I’ll make him suffer, perhaps exorcize his cursed energy to give him a taste of his own ignorance”

“Ryo, please.”, your soft voice sent a wave of warmth through his body. “I don’t want unnecessary bloodshed.”

He realized then why the realm considered you the Princess of Peace. You wanted to fight for your rights to life, fight for what was fair to the realm without bloodshed. Every gathering you’d been to had always swayed in your favor and he knew deep down it wasn’t because of your family name. You were just logical and intelligent to showcase why your outlook was necessary in the development of the Jujutsu world. You truly believed deep down there would be ways to save jujutsu sorcerers and regular humans without having to create an all out war. 

A part of him whirled in anger, another not understanding your stance. He disregarded human emotion at all costs, thought it to be weak, pathetic, unbeneficial, and a waste of energy. When he looked at the way people reacted first instead of thinking it made him recoil in disgust, when he’d see sobbing mothers or angry fathers at the villages he’d consumed he laughed, feeding off their distress and growing in power. He thrived off the negative emotion, yet he couldn’t bring himself to care for anything except gaining his right to the realm. He believed he was the pinnacle of jujutsu sorcery and everyone else was simply a lackey and weak. 

He’d consider you one of them had you been anyone else, but there was something about you that made him hold you at a higher regard. You held every characteristic he despised of humans, of lesser sorcerers and yet he couldn’t bring himself to put you in the same category as them. It was like you had all immunity from his hatred, his wrath, his disgust. He didn’t know why you were different from the rest, he just knew you were and he couldn’t bring himself to figure out why. He didn’t want to. 

“What do you suggest I do then? Sit around and feel your energy get more distressed every time he talks to you like you’re worth nothing?”

For some reason, his confession of feeling your distress made your heart skip a beat. You knew he could feel all the energy around him, the powerful, the weak, the unstable, the murderous, and he cared most about yours. He felt your distress and it made him angry. Something about that undeniable truth made you feel warm inside. 

“You know what they tell you is true.”, he said, void of emotion. “I’ve killed hundreds of people, consumed their energy and left them to rot in the ground.”

Why was he saying this?

“I know.”

“I have no remorse, no morality, no human left in me”

“I know.”

It was all you could say, you couldn’t deny the painstaking truth. You knew he was immoral, dangerous, a murderer, you knew and still you ignored it. 

“So why do you choose to stay?”, he bit out. He’d never wanted nor cared about the opinion of anyone but he wanted yours. Why after the past two months did you choose to keep his company? Why after two months did you find yourself enamored with him? 

“Because you don’t care”, you confessed. “You don’t care about what others think, or what they say. You’re free to pass through every inch of this realm without any regard to what anyone has to say or what they think. In the end, you know you’re stronger, you go through life knowing your worth and position and… If I stay around you long enough maybe I’ll learn not to care either.”

Silence. 

He had no words to say as he listened to your voice grow slightly louder. “I want to leave, I don’t want to be the heir to my family’s claim, I don’t want to be held to this impossible standard that my family has for me. I just wish I could’ve been born just a regular human being. I might’ve been weak, ignorant, and blindsided but I would be free of the torment of my family’s expectation of me. I would be nobody and that would be enough.” 

That was just it. You could never be a nobody. You were forced into this life, born into a family of inherited techniques and forced to bring honor to your family no matter the cost. You were shackled to your prison for eternity and with no way out, you accepted the consequences of your position. 

To him though, it was different. You could never be a nobody. Not when he saw you as everything that brought out a sliver of humanity from his black soul. He saw you as everything everywhere all at once. You were kindness and empathy, strength and resilience, he felt it in the energy he absorbed and saw it in the woods he wandered through. He felt your presence in every fiber of his being and he hated it. You consumed him in a way not even the strongest in this realm could even graze him in. 

“He wants me to stop training in the fields and stay in the inner territory. He’s having the elders oversee my training.”, your mouth twitched slightly. “In the end, I'm still forced to develop my domain for him.”

A surge of annoyance whirled inside of him, forcing it back down in order to remain in control of his veil. He could be annoyed at the mundane anger of your father, but he wouldn’t put you at risk of being seen with him just because he wanted to rip your father into shreds. His thoughts seemed normal to him, but he knew if you’d heard his tactic of gaining your freedom you’d surely feel disgusted by him. 

“We should go back.”, you whispered, another tear streaming down your cheek. You looked down as you swallowed a sob, the feeling of his hand wiping the tear away warming your skin. You leaned into his hand, your lachrymose eyes meeting him in a gentle gaze. 

He stayed silent, grabbing your hand as he led you back through the woods and to your home. Your focus was on your intertwined hands, wondering if he’d ever let someone else touch him like this before. Has he ever been so gentle with others or were you the only exception to this? 

When you arrived, you lingered outside for a moment, the silence occupying the space while you tried to find the right words for him. You couldn’t quite place how you felt, but you felt a pull towards him, an uncontrollable feeling that you wanted to get off your chest. 

“Thank you”, was all you could say. He hummed in response before grabbing your hand, his skin rough and his touch gentle. You smiled through your hurt, a piece of your heart breaking at the fact that your freedom to roam had been stolen from you. A piece of you hurt even more than you couldn’t see him anymore. 

You gave him one last smile before walking away, your hand still in his grasp as it slowly untangled itself from his hood and you walked inside your home. After you’d reached your bedroom, you felt the veil of his cursed energy release and his presence disappear. 

Another single tear falling down your cheek while the pain in your chest overcame you, forcing you into a slumber just to escape from the agony. 

Over the past few days, Sukuna came to visit you in your home, concealing his energy and yours in the process in order to keep you from being sensed by others in your family clan. After so much time, he created a body double of you to take your place in bed so that you’d feel more comfortable leaving your room empty in the middle of the night. 

The nights were the only time you had with him now since your training was supervised by the elders, leaving you little room to actually train to create a domain and instead your time was consumed with training your ability. Every night you spent with him made your heart warm, everything about him made you feel whole, made you feel seen. It wasn’t often he’d speak fondly of anything, but he’d express himself to you in a way he’d never let anyone else hear. He preferred hearing you talk, preferred hearing your dreams of a future and a life that wasn’t surrounded by inheritance and power. He’d often disagreed, believing that power was the best thing in any lifetime that someone could obtain, but he found himself understanding your stance more and more every night. 

The two of you would spend every night with each other, staying within reach of your home in case you needed to return quickly, visiting the lake every night. You didn’t know at what point you started to return to his home with him, but you had found yourself in his bed more times than not. You would spend all night wrapped in his arms, his gentle touch on your skin, his fingers running through your h/c hair, breathing you in as you slept in his hold. 

He’d never expected a single thing from you. Your relationship with him was never carnal, he’d never let it get to that point because to him, he didn’t care for physical release anymore. 

Before you, he’d spend the better parts of his nights in brothels, a different concubine each night and drunk on wine and letting himself dip into his pool of women whenever he wanted. A harem waiting to jump into his bed at the snap of his fingers and yet, when you came around it was like all carnal desire evaporated from his being. His sudden disappearance from the brothels left even the concubines in shock, wondering where he’d gone off to not knowing of his infatuation with the L/n heir. 

Your emotional and mental capacity exceeded his beliefs and he found himself going against everything he once swore his life on, finding himself seeing you in a different light in comparison to every other living being. He respected you on a godly level, a level he never regarded anyone else in. You saw the world through a lens of profound clarity and grace, something he’d never wasted time on, something that made you connected to those beneath you but also made you so profoundly unique. You had embedded yourself so deeply into his being that even those around him started to notice the shift within the King of Curses. He found himself in awe of your perspective, mesmerized by the way your heart navigated through everything. 

He felt utterly pathetic. 

But you were content with him in every way. Where you held empathy and grace in your heart, he held control and selfishness. You were gentle and kind, he was merciless and heartless. Your eyes looked at the world with curiosity and he saw it as a kingdom to overtake, a kingdom where he would ultimately rule. A kingdom where he wanted you to serve next to him. To be his till his heart stopped beating and even beyond that.

You were a dichotomous pairing: heaven and hell. 

Still, you felt content when you laid in his arms at night. You felt secure laying in his bed, sleeping next to him, existing in the same space he occupied, looking into his deep red eyes that the rest of the realm were too scared to look into. You loved the way he touched you, his hand gentle as it pushed your hair back while you laid next to him. You loved the way he held you while you breathed against his chest at night before inevitably having to return home before the sunrise. 

That same morning you had returned home, you were preparing for a bath, undressing as you heard the group of maids outside the room. 

“You don’t think he will have heirs, do you?”, one of them asked in a whisper. 

“Someone like him has to have heirs. He wants to rule an empire, surely he’ll find a way to get them.”

“I wouldn’t mind giving him some.”, the final one spoke, making your ears ring in shock as she continued. “Have you seen him? He has to have a harem of women waiting to get into bed with him, not to mention he looks like he would be completely wild in bed.”

You felt your gut turn inside of you. 

“I wouldn’t mind jumping in bed with him, even if it is only once. Just to know what it’s like to get fucked by a real man.”, the maid laughed as their voices disappeared down the hall, leaving you standing in your shock as you let her words sink into your bones. 

You felt… insignificant. Insufficient. Inadequate. 

Later that night when he came for you, a wave of silence covered the both of you. You knew he could feel your energy, the doubt bubbling inside of you as you moved through the woods. Once you’d reached his home, you stood in the middle of the room, waiting for him to break the silence. 

He turned to meet your gaze, the emotion glossing over your eyes as he moved towards you. His hand reached up, pushing your loose strands of hair behind your ear as he caressed your cheek. 

“What’s wrong?”, he breathed. 

“Why?’, your voice shook, leaving him questioning why you were like this tonight. “Why me?”

He stood in silence, waiting for you to continue, knowing you weren’t done with the amount of energy he felt radiating off of you. 

“Why me, Sukuna? You could have anyone, any woman you wanted, hell all the women you wanted. I know you’re far from being a saint, and I accepted that fact a long time ago because I couldn’t care less about who you’d been with before me. I don’t care about your past or how many women you’ve been with… I just need to know.”, you looked up at him with tears in your eyes. “You have so many women, so many concubines at your fingertips. I’m sure you’ve slept with some of them in the past few months, hell maybe even weeks. So, why?”, your voice broke. “Why me?”

Were you not good enough? Sufficient? Worthy?

His silence ate at you, making your gut fill with dread as he stared at you with a blank stare. You could guess that he’d probably taunt you, play with your feelings before delivering his ultimate blow. You wanted to believe that the past few weeks meant something to him in the same way they meant everything to you. You wanted to be enough for someone. Enough for him. 

When his voice broke the silence, you felt your eyes gloss over with tears again.

“I haven’t been with another woman since I met you.”, his voice held the truth, reaching up to cup your cheek.  “Since the first time I saw you, I stopped visiting brothels or entertaining the thoughts of other women.”

A shock sank into your bones at his confession. His eyes bore into yours with truth, with honesty. What he wanted to know was how these thoughts even entered your mind. 

“Who put these thoughts into your mind?”, he asked in a deep growl. 

You hesitated, swallowing the lump in your throat. “One of our maids… She..”

He let out a quiet shush, grabbing your face with both his hands as his thumb grazed over your lips, “You…”, his eyes darkening with what you could only place as lust and possessiveness, “are the only woman in this life and the next, the only woman in this realm and the hundreds of others that I desire.”

And hell did he want you. He wanted every part of you. heart, body, and soul. Down to the simple way your eyes looked at him to the way your cursed energy spiraled into immense power when fighting cursed spirits. He wanted every strand of hair, every piece of your soul, every inch of skin, every minute of your time. He wanted you to consume him in every way and he couldn’t care less about the gravity of your effect on him. If you didn’t exist to be with him, he didn’t want to exist either. He saw himself as the pinnacle of jujutsu sorcery, the king of this realm, and he wanted you to be the one and only thing that could bring him to his knees. If he was the most powerful sorcerer in the existence of humanity and jujutsu, then you were far stronger. You brought the King of Curses to his knees and he couldn��t stop it even if he wanted. He wanted you to have power over him, it meant you belonged to him in every way that mattered. He'd burn the world down if you asked, kill an entire nation to prove his undying loyalty to you, he’d stop his spread of cursed energy to know a moment of peace with you. 

He didn’t know when he’d become so wrapped up in you, but it was too late for him by the time he realized the hold you had over him. 

He was yours with the entirety of his being, with the intensity of his soul, and the remainder of his existence in this life and continue to let you consume him in every lifetime after this one. 

His soul called your name in a way he’d never experienced in his entire life. For a man who didn’t believe in indulging in mundane emotions, he indulged in you and that’s all he needed. 

Your lip quivered, a sob choked out of your lips as you looked at him in a deep admiration. You lifted your hands to wrap around his wrists, sinking into his touch as you whispered to him. 

“I want to see you, Ryo.”, your hand on his face, your gentle lachrymose eyes meeting his hardened ones. “I want to see the real you.”

He would’ve denied the request had you been anyone else, but he was at your mercy, allowing his body to morph into his true being. The very form that left the realm fearing his presence, left them in agony from the overwhelming rush of cursed energy. His true form alone was enough to make an entire nation buckle under his presence. It was gruesome, wicked, twisted, ugly, and macabre. It was something so terrifying they’d used it in stories to children for them to be good for their parents. His true form was something heard about across all of the realm and left nations training for years in hopes to one day kill the King of Curses. And despite all of that wickedness, gruesomeness, and fear, you looked up at him with gentle eyes. 

He showed his true form to you, waiting for the recoil of disgust, the shock of horror and yet none of it came. You looked at him with the same gentleness you had for anyone else in this realm. He had a deformed stomach, four arms, multiple sets of eyes and a plate on his face, teeth sharp like daggers, and body covered in scars and marked in black ink. 

Yet, the only thing that flooded your eyes was admiration. 

Why weren’t you disgusted by him?

Why weren’t you running in fear?

Bowing at his feet?

Why?

“Why do you hide your true form around me?”, you cocked your head slightly. “Everyone in the other families always say you show your true form to add to your dominance over the realm, yet you disfigure your body and make it different when I’m with you… Why?”

Who created you in such a way that you empathize with him instead of cursing him to hell? 

Princess of Peace. 

“Does it bother you?”

“I just don’t see why you have to hide it. You don’t have to do that. Not with me.”

You couldn’t explain the connection to him. 

Was it an invisible string? 

Fated soulmates? 

You didn’t know what it was that his form didn’t frighten you or leave you in shock. You welcomed every being with open arms, perhaps it was your special ability to see cursed energy and gauge its threat to you. His energy never reached levels of threat when he was near you. You’d seen it around other sorcerers and the level grew astronomically. It was almost too much to wrap your mind around and yet when you saw it in the solace of his bedroom, it never pushed you away. 

Inside these walls, no cursed energy existed to harm you. In fact, it was the complete opposite. His cursed energy manifested in a protective veil, ensuring you were guarded completely when you were with him. 

You felt every question swirl in your mind, trying to pinpoint why he had you feeling so alive. 

Was it the desire to leave your family out of spite?

The desire to know what being unhinged was?

The desire to not live within the bounds of the jujutsu code and live freely?

You couldn’t quite place it but you felt envious of his freedom and lack of care. You were always being watched, always monitored, the only moments of peace and freedom you got were when he would sneak you out of your home at night.

You grabbed one of his hands, rubbing soft fingers on the back of it and meeting his gaze. You’d grown to admire the depth of his gaze, the way they watched you with a calm intensity. You have laced his hand on your cheek, his massive palm warming your skin as you sank into him. 

His body lowered to your height, bending over as he brought you closer to his chest while your heart pounded inside of your own. You knew he could feel your infatuation, your intrigue, your heart racing inside you. Your gentle eyes met his darkened ones, the closest thing to desire that he could get to while holding you. You felt his lips meet yours, the roughness of his mouth as he claimed you as his. You melted into him, your hands on his chest as a pair of his landed on your waist and the other held your face, deepening the kiss. 

He lifted your body, placing your frame on his lap as he laid against the headboard of his bed. You felt the burning of his skin as his grip tightened on your waist. Your skin ignited under his touch, running a hand through his hair which caused him to groan against your mouth. You could listen to him all day, forever. 

If your father or the realm saw you right now, what would they say? What would they think? Would they accuse Sukuna of brainwashing you? Imprisoning you? Did you need saving? 

No. 

You didn’t need saving; you were far beyond it for anyone to consider it. You were too far gone in him and you didn’t want to turn back. His muscular arms picked you up, laying you on your back against the sheets as his overwhelming form covered yours. You were tiny in comparison to him, your hair splayed out in a halo as his eyes stayed focused on you. A hand brushed your stray hairs back, rubbing small circles against your temple. 

You focused on his body, admiring every muscle, every ripple of skin, every scar, every black marking. You admired his form regardless of the fact that most would consider him a devil. It never occurred to you in any sense. 

An angel entrapped by a demon, an angel falling in love with the devil, an angel stolen from heaven and dragged to hell. 

You didn’t give a damn anymore. You wanted him, needed him like you needed oxygen. He helped you feel free, helped you escape the confines of your familial name, helped you feel worthy. He helped you see life in a new light, in every way that you couldn’t before because of your father’s controlling ignorance. You didn’t care about the opinions of the village or the families, deep down they were only looking out for themselves even if everyone else denied it. 

The King of Curses completely ruined you: the Princess of Peace. The two of you were a dichotomous pairing, chaos and peace, yet still found balance in each other. It was the balance of life and existence and the both of you knew exactly how the collision would end: one of you would gain everything and the other would lose it all. But neither of you would have anticipated the depth of your connection, the intensity in which he consumed you and you him. You no longer cared about the consequences of being with him. Your father could disown you, exile you, have the entire village and the other families against you, but as long as Ryomen was at your side you didn’t care. 

His rough lips made their way down your neck, kissing and licking every inch of your skin as your hands held into his arms. The sound of your muffled cries made him feral, making his instinct and possessiveness kick into overdrive. He needed to feel you, needed to taste you, to breathe you in and have you take over all his senses. 

Your hands gripped his arms, your toes curling against the bed sheets as he continued to kiss down your neck and swirling his tongue around the delicate skin. You tasted like a heaven he never believed in, made him feel euphoric in ways beyond comprehension. 

Your body was on fire at his touch, you wanted more. More of his touch, his kisses, his groans, his everything. You just wanted more of him. 

You wanted to give yourself to him in everyway you could. He knew you were still a virgin, he wanted to be the one to wreck you, to be the only one to know your body so intimately, wanted to be the only man you’d ever end up with. His hands gripped your hips as you felt his buck slightly against you, your moans filling his mouth as he kissed you sloppily. 

He forced himself to stop, gaining a small whimper from you. His eyes met yours, his voice deep but low as he pressed his lips against yours once more. 

“Not like this.”, he muttered, his tone vibrating in every bone in your body. 

You knew what he meant with just a simple phrase, Your body relaxing against the bed, letting him collapse next to you as he wrapped you into his arms. You soaked in his warmth, letting your body be held by him as you fell into a slumber. 

This was all you could ever ask for. 

It was all you wanted.

One Week Later 

You woke up just before the sunrise, your body sitting up as the bed sheets fell from your form. You looked next to you, seeing Sukuna in his sleep while his arms were lazily thrown over your torso. Another night with him in peace left you feeling content, feeling a soreness overtake your body from the training you’d done with him last night. You felt his arms tighten, your body almost bare against him only wearing one of his oversized wool shirts. 

You pushed yourself out of his embrace, swinging your legs off the bed and looking out the window. You still had time to get home before everyone woke up, though you needed to head home soon. You felt his energy shift as he woke, raising a hand while still laying in the sheets and looking at you while caressing your cheek. 

“I have to get home.”, you whispered as you melted into him. He grunted in response before sitting up and cracking his neck to relieve the pressure he’d gotten overnight. You follow his as he stands, letting him help dress you in your clothing as you felt his lips along the side of your neck. 

Both of you walked out of his home, walking through the woods until you reached your room, his veil keeping you hidden and camouflaged both of your energies. You gave him a final kiss, smiling at him before he turned and left, leaving you alone in your room. 

During mid day, the sun held its highest position and the food was being prepared for lunch, you heard mention from your father that the Zen’in would be joining your family for lunch. 

Everything was fine at first, everyone coexisting together, talking about family matters and everything normal, atleast it seemed normal at first. 

You looked up to see Zetsubou Zen’in walk in the door, one of the maids accompanying him to the table as she bowed and walked back to her post at the front door. He was the heir to the Zen’in clan. A remarkably talented sorcerer with the gift of the Ten Shadows technique. Everyone was sure he would soon manifest the shikigami Mohoraga, making him the first to manifest it since the family’s establishment to the realm. 

“Now that everyone is here, there is some news we must share.”, your father spoke as he stood, watching as Zetsubou’s father also rose to stand next to his son. Everyone else remained seated, you included as you cocked your head in confusion. 

“Y/n, come stand.”, your father motioned towards you, your gut churning in suspicion before you stood next to him. You watched your father before turning to Zetsubou and his father, his dark eyes staring into your e/c ones. 

“We are to celebrate the new union, the meshing of two family names into one great clan.”, your father spoke, your mother and the Zen’in wife staring in silence. Even the maids seemed to be on edge of what your father was saying. “Zetsubou, Your father and I have agreed in accepting the conditions of betrothal that you both have given to our family.”

Betrothal?

“Y/n, you and Zetsubou will meet in union in two weeks' time. Two Clans becoming one in matrimony.”, your father smiled as he shook hands with the Zen’in leader, smiling at Zetsubou. 

You stood in silence, your energy growing grimm at the declaration your father just made. Your body overwhelmed in shock, your heart racing in your chest, your mind swirling with a million different possibilities. The chatter around you blurred into a jumbled mess, nothing comprehensive due to your anger radiating from your body. 

“I look forward to getting closer to you through our marriage, Y/n.”, Zetsubou smiled at you, your eyes staring at him mindlessly. “Y/n?”

“I’m not marrying you.”, you said silently, almost inaudibly but you knew he’d heard you since you saw Zetsubou’s eyes darken. 

“What?”, his voice came out clipped, sharp. Dangerous. 

“I am not marrying you.”, you repeated, your eyes void of any emotion as you held 

“Y/n!”, your mother let out a warning call, but you ignored her. You didn’t care about anything other than making it entirely clear that you were not going to be wed to the Zen’in Clan. “Forgive us, she doesn’t realize what she’s saying.”

“I know what I’m saying. I am not marrying you, Zetsubou. Not even if you held my life at sword's edge.”

You suddenly felt the energy that radiated off of your father, his anger growing tenfold as he glared at you with intense disappointment and resentment. Your father already hated you, and already felt disgraced by your presence. Why not give him another reason to see you as less than good enough. 

“I think there needs to be some time to process our agreement. Surely we can come to a suitable agreement that will benefit both of our clans.”, your father forced out, his voice clipped. “Our maids will clean up, let me walk you out.”

You watched as both the Zen’in leader and your father walked out, your eyes glancing back at Zetsubou, holding his glare before he scoffed and followed behind his father. You heard the lowered voice of Zetsubou’s father, his voice full of annoyance. 

“Get your daughter under control or else we will take care of her for you.”, and with that, the Zen’ins left your home. You stared blankly as your father walked back into the room, his energy radiating in waves like a tsunami. He walked up to you, your blank stare meeting his eyes as you felt your head snap to the side, the sting burning your cheek as he snarled at you. 

“You are a disgrace!”, he screamed, your mother gasping at his sudden burst. “How dare you embarrass our family name in front of the Zen’ins!”

You raised your head, looking at the pure fury displayed in his eyes, still not saying a single word as he continued to berate you. 

“Why can’t you just do your duty and save yourself the embarrassment. Save our family the dishonor of having you as its heir.”, he bit out, each word dripping with acid. “You’re to marry Zetsubou Zen’in in two weeks' time. For once in your pathetic life, do something honorable for this family.”. He left the room, your mother following closely behind as the maids started to clean the dining room. 

And still, you stood in the middle of the room with no emotion behind your eyes, just the sting of your cheek and the emptiness in your chest at your father’s words. Your life, your future, your dreams, it all was reduced to being the wife of a man you did not love. A man you did not care for and despised. 

You were reduced to nothing. 

The night was silent, the wind howled softly in the background causing the trees to move, leaving nothing but a tranquil aura in the air. You stared blankly at the wall as you laid against Sukuna’s skin, the warmth flooding your body as you felt his arms wrap around you. You felt the growing pressure in your chest, an unavoidable truth you couldn’t keep from him anymore. 

“Kuna…”, you whispered gently. HIs body moved, looking at you as his eyes fell on your heartbroken form. “I..”, you choked. 

How could you possibly tell him this?

“What is it?”, his voice was deep yet soft, the words ringing in your ears. 

“I… My father..”, you sucked in a shaky breath. “He arranged for me to marry Zetsubou Zen’in.”

“He arranged for you to marry Zetsubou Zenin.” he repeated back to you, the lingering darkness hanging in his tone. 

“He says it’ll be good for our families. That I have a responsibility as heir, as does Zetsubou, to continue our bloodline and make our abilities stronger.”

“Do you love him?”, the question made your blood run cold, even kicked you in the gut, but you knew why he asked. You could read in between the lines and hear the unanswered question he truly wanted to ask. 

“No.”

A hum was all that escaped him, the silence casting over the both of you causing a small blanket of tension to rise. 

“I can kill them.”, he replied finally. “I can give them a reason to call off that sham marriage.”

He could do it easily, there was no question about it, the only thing keeping him from carrying out his plan was his loyalty to you. He wouldn’t do something you asked him to not do. You had that power over him to stop him from doing anything. You heard the hidden meaning in his words. You weren’t ignorant or naive. You knew who he was and what he was capable of and yet, you lay in his arms falling deeper into what he was, or rather, who he was with you. 

“I don’t want bloodshed. Besides..”, you sank into your sorrow again. “I don’t think there truly is a way out of this.”

“Do you really believe they could possibly keep me away from you?”, he asked in a serious, deep tone, his question full of every emotion he’d never said out loud. He didn’t know what kindness was, what admiration looks like or what love felt like but to him… you were the closest thing to that that he’d ever felt and seen in all his life. 

You brought out what little humanity he had in him, he showed it only for you. the tiniest sliver reserved for you but disappeared when it came to anyone else. You were the only one who deserved that small minuscule part of him. He had little regard for human life, he believed himself above all beings all gifted, cursed, and boring. 

Then there was you. 

He didn’t believe himself above you in any regard. 

In every way you were his equal and he’d burn the world to ash to prove it to you. 

“I can’t deny them… My father… he already hates me.”, you muttered against his skin. Ryomen slowly sat up, his arms helping you move with him as he brushed your hair back, tucking a strand behind your ear and letting his hand rest against your cheek. Your eyes glossed over, a hurt in your heart flooding every vein in your body. You didn’t want to be forced into a life you had no interest in, why did this have to be your life’s path? 

You wish you could just speak to whatever greater being ruled over your world and beg them to change the prophecy known as your life. Beg for a time where you didn’t exist within the confines of your familial name, your duty to pass your legacy through your bloodline, your fear of disgracing your family, who could ever change the end result for you? 

“I’ll find a way.”, he whispered before leaning towards you, pulling your lips against his as he let all of his emotion pour into the kiss as the tears fell down your cheeks. He was gentle even in his destructive touch, he let himself completely off guard with you. Your lips moved gently against his, soft and delicate, making his other hands wrapped around your waist as he kissed you deeply. You felt weak at his touch, your heart openly his without regret or second thoughts. 

“Ryo..”, you whispered, your voice shaky as he kissed you again, this time more possessive and full of desire. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, pulling it before letting it go as it swelled. 

You let yourself sink into him, his arms wrapping around you in a secure embrace. You fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, it was even and strong, proof of the life inside of him. 

He watched you carefully, his gut churning in a whirlwind of emotion and suppressed energy. He needed an outlet and soon, he’d spent the better part of the past month with you in his embrace and presence. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone so long without releasing his cursed energy, it was starting to make him twitch at all the pent up power he had. He’d waited until you fell asleep in his arms before lowering you into the sheets, your body laying perfectly in his bed as he covered you with the blanket. He pushed the curtain away, closing it as his eyes lingered on your body, the blanket laying over you as he moved out of the room. 

He found himself wandering through the woods late, moving to the outskirts of the village territories and making his way deeper to territory he knew a little too well. He sensed an energy that stood out to him, his focus moving towards the waves radiating towards him until he reached his location. His veil did good in keeping him hidden, but he released a small wave of energy to send a flood of chills through every being in town within his proximity. His body moved through the homes, the worn down tavern, and the trader booths until he found exactly what he was looking for so late in the night. 

The sound of moans echoed in his ears, the energy he was tailing radiating from inside the brothel at the very end of the town, hidden amongst the trees for a more private ambiance. He knew exactly what was taking place inside the brothel, but it wasn’t that that bothered him, it was the person inside that did. He sensed Zetsubou inside with multiple women, all of them taking their place in his bed, taking turns pleasuring him or even doing it all at once. His grunts sounded out as the moans that escaped the concubine echoed through the walls. The other women were touching him, their hands on his body as one of them rubbed their body against his while another kissed him in a sloppy manner. 

He would be lying if he said he’d never been in a similar, compromising position. He’d visited these brothels long enough to know exactly who and what he wanted every night he visited. His lust filled ways long gone, no longer causing a rise in him, especially after meeting you. That was the exact reason he was here. For you. 

An anger rose inside of him seeing your supposed future husband laying in a bed being pleasured by concubines just weeks before your wedding. His groans sounded out at the pleasure he was receiving, the moans of the concubines filling the air as he fed into infidelity. He knew all too well that men were never loyal to their wives, always frequenting the brothels for a good time. The sound of Zetsubou slamming the headboard against the wall as he fucked one of the concubines, his curses filling the air as her moans ripped through the night, it all made Sukuna’s anger run deep inside of him. The lack of respect, the complete disregard Zetsubou held for you made him want to snap his neck in half. It would be the perfect way to get you out of the betrothal. 

Even the sounds of the whores in bed with him drove Sukuna mad. They had to know the great Zen’in heir was to be wed to the L/n heir, yet they still chose to lay in bed with him, to be absolutely and disgustingly fucked by the son of a bitch. He listened to the sounds, letting the anger grow inside of him, allowing himself to plot every way he would maim Zetsubou Zen’in alive for ever treating his betrothal as disposable. Something to be disregarded. Disrespected. 

After a while, the moans and the slamming of the headboard stopped, Zetsubou’s voice ringing out as he laid in the sheets with his whores wrapped around his naked body. 

“You ladies definitely know how to show a man a good time.”, he breathed as he let them touch his body, his muscled flexing under their touch. 

“Of course, always special treatment for our best man.”, one of the whores said in a sultry voice. “It’s good to get a good fuck while you still can.”

“Trust me, even in a few weeks I’ll be back. Don’t you worry.”, the sound of Zetsubou kissing one of the women made Sukuna fill with disgust. “You have the best of the best here. Can’t stay committed to some virgin who doesn’t know how to please a man, let alone know how to fuck one.”

His energy spiraled, shoving it down as he continued to listen. 

“That’s right, you need real women, not some uptight spoiled brat.”, another woman spoke out. 

“You can get all the good pussy you want here, baby.”, another called. “We know how to treat a man right. Make you feel everything.”

“That’s all I want.”, his voice vibrated as he kissed the woman again. “C’mon baby, let's go for round two.”

And just like that, the sounds of moans and deep grunts rang out again. The knocking of the head board and the panting of hot breath filling the room. Zetsubou Zen’in was scum. Bottom of the barrel. A fucking no body. 

Sukuna bided his time, waiting deep into the night as he watched the Zen’in heir leave, heading back in the direction of his clan’s territory. Sukuna’s red eyes watched him from the shadows, his anger rising into flames around him, waiting long enough for the worthless son of a bitch to be far enough away before letting the release come. 

Fire consumed the village, everything burning into ash, the smoke filling the air as the sound of screams echoed into the night. The taverns, the trader booths, the homes, all of it catching on fire and burning every single person to a crisp. He saved the brothel for last, waiting for the sound of panic cries to ring out before walking inside and seeing all the concubines who were with the Zen’in heir trying to get out of the burning building. He forced them to stay in place, his presence overwhelming them into fear. He watched as the panic settled into their eyes, their lungs begging for air, their bodies getting burned as the flames licked the walls around them. One of them tried to run out past him, but never made it as he blew her head off in one swift slice. They screamed out, begging him to let them out, crying as he watched in emotionlessness. It wasn’t until their lifeless bodies collapsed on the ground that he left, leaving the burning village behind him as he wandered into the night. He’d burn the whole world down for you. 

Even if it meant starting with those who wronged you first.

“Our entire livestock was burned! We have no more land to grow food in!”, the sound of the Zen’in leader’s voice ringing out during their meeting with your father rang out. You listened in silence, letting yourself sink into the reality of what they were discussing. A small part of you laughing internally at their misfortune. 

Another village burned into flames just two days ago, and last night, the Zen’in’s lost all of their livestock, fertile soil, and sustainable crops. They were all burned to nothing, not even the soil or the seeds were salvageable. 

“We need to get this monster under control. We have to speed up training with our sorcerers and find our strongest men to be put into units to take him out. We cannot let him roam so freely anymore, especially not now that he’s making hits closer to our clan lands.”, the Kamo Clan leader spoke out, his voice soft as he marked the map where Sukuna made his last raid, your eyes peeking in through the slit in the door. That village.. It was right outside the Zen’in borders, it was where Zetsubou frequented the brothels. 

Ryo..

You stepped back, moving back into the hall before making your way to your bedroom, closing the door as you sat on the floor. Did he burn the village down in some act of honor for you or was it just a coincidence? 

The thoughts spiraled in your head, letting yourself undress and change into your dinner clothes, the silence still filling your home ever since your fight with your father almost three days ago. You were a week away from your marriage to Zetsubou, a gnawing in your gut as you stepped out of your room and faced your father. You stood in the doorway before making your way to the dining table and sitting in your regular spot at the very end while your father and mother sat next to one another. 

Then, a rush of energy consumed you all at once. The sensation floods your senses as you feel your body tense. You look at your father, noticing his sudden change in demeanor as one of the maids let out a cry of fear, her shaky voice barely audible as you could hear her motion towards the dining room. 

In all his glory, Sukuna stood tall and unmoving, his body adorned with fine robes and his true form showing as he occupied the space. Making the air impossible to breathe, making everyone except you suffocate in fear. 

Your eyes widened at the sight of him, why was he here?

You watched as your mother raised her hand to her mouth, covering her quivering lips. “What is the meaning of this?” she asked in a shaken tone, your eyes filled with worry as you watched your father fill with anger. 

“Sukuna”, he bowed before the King of Curses, before lifting his head and asking his question. “What brings you into our home this evening?”

Sukuna stared your father down, his true form standing tall and in overwhelming sense of dominance that made your mother cower. Although you showed no fear towards him, you could see why everyone else in the realm did. He was massive, muscular, deadly, his body taking form of a cursed entity. It was no secret that Ryomen Sukuna held an energy that defied all existence, he was far above all beings. 

You tried to stay focused, holding your shock at his sudden appearance back, not wanting them to see your reaction. 

What was he doing? 

“F/n L/n.”, Sukuna’s deep voice echoed. “Leader of the L/n clan. For such a highly renown sorcerer, you sure don’t seem to realize where your greatest assets lie.” He walked further into the room, your father’s jaw clenching noticeably. “You’re ignorant and naïve, choosing to force such a gifted sorcerer, your only daughter and heir into a marriage of mutual gain, of political power.”

“Our family and Clan matters shouldn’t interest you. Now why are you intruding on our home?”. You had to applaud your father’s boldness, asking Sukuna such a demanding question. 

“You’re too mundane, worldly, pitiful.”, you watched as he moved and sat at the table, in between the head where your father and mother sat and the opposite end where you sat. He sat with his legs crossed, leaning his head into his hand before speaking again. “Why arrange for political gain when you could have real power, L/n?”

“What are you talking about Sukuna?”, your father’s words shook slightly. 

“Look at the bigger picture. L/n may be a part of the four families, but in comparison, your poor judgment and lack of support is the reason your family will fail. You seek what humans want. You’re greedy over mundane things”, Hid deep red eyes held your father’s gaze intently, overwhelmingly. “What if I told you that you could have the power of gods?”

“Power of gods?”, your fathers hands fisted in his lap. 

“Yes”, you noticed Sukuna’s red eyes glance at you, softening only when he met your gaze and immediately hardened and dropping when he met your father’s. “You could have real power, real influence, real claim to the realm. It would put you far above the rest of the families, perhaps make you greater than the Gojos.”

You didn’t miss the glint of intrigue in your fathers eyes. Of course bed listen or spare a moment for someone like him. Anything for power, anything for more claim to the realm. Your family wasn’t weak but any means, but your father had slowly started losing connections thanks to his selfishness. It truly would be the end of the L/n family if he didn’t get it together. 

“And how would I possibly gain that? I have nothing to give you in return.” , your father smiled weakly. 

“Simple”, Sukuna leaned his head on his hand, staring at your father blankly before extending a hand and pointing at you. 

“I want Y/n as my bride.” 

[starsofjewels]

hi i love your gregor fic!!! i have a request if that’s cool, so ya know how rhaenyra and daemon snuck out and went to flea bottom and to the brothel in hotd, welll i was thinking princess!reader and gregor her guard they sneak off and go into a brothel and ykyk!! then like the next day, someone goes to the queen and small council to tell them the rumors and sandor is just like in the corner 🤨🫢🫨

Tarnishment

Gregor Clegane x Baratheon Princess! Reader

NSFW!!

Any and all characters depicted in NSFW pieces are of legal age.All characters are also consenting (Unless specificed by piece)

CONTENT: SMUT- Nudity, fingering, climbing the Mountain (obviously), assumed! Murder, canon compliant! Sex work (prostitutes, brothels etc), mentions of alcohol (mostly wine), implied! Infidelity (Baratheon Princess does it Nyra style)

Delicious smut underneath the cut

Greggie C, Big Bob and the Lannisters are all their own individual warnings.

Word Count: 3.6K

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Holy frickle frackle mackrel I genuinely loved writing this so much- WHY do you all how so many good ideas OH MY LORD.

Thank you so much for this, we are all sluts for Greggie now. Gods be good.

I'm trying to get through my requests, but soon we'll have lil sprinklings of things- I've got another Ramsay and a very special surprise fic (hold your excitement) lined up for y'all once I'm done my requests.

Live, Laugh, Gregor Clegane.

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Tarish (verb): To compromise, damage, soil or sully.

When your mother bears you a little brother, at the grand age of seven, you are old enough to understand that your importance has dropped significantly. You were never going to be heir to the throne, not whilst your father has two living brothers, but there is still a general sense that you are no longer as necessary to the Baratheon lineage, not now little baby Joffrey has a golden cradle, with yellow hair to match. 

Your father doesn’t care much for Joffrey, or Tommen, or Myrcella. You don’t think he cares for much besides wine and whores and hunting down animals in the Godswood. He calls your siblings the ‘Lion Pups’, a secret joke between the two of you. They could pass as pure Lannisters, with their slim figures and golden hair, but you? You are your father’s Baratheon princess, and you are his most favourite. 

After your first blood, and, coincidentally enough, Joffrey’s fourth nameday, your father decides you should each have a member of the Kingsguard to take care of you. The crown prince is now too old to need a nurse, and you are a fertile little lady- The phrasing makes you cringe- You need protection from debauchery, as your mother says. You wonder if the world is truly so terrible that a man could desire you.  

Cersei wants to give you the Hound, but you are far too good for Sandor Clegane, the Burned Knight. So you get his brother, the Mountain, and already you know why the men shiver when they see him, and why women hide their babies. Joffrey is given over to Sandor, to your mother’s dismay. 

And so, it begins. You attend your lessons on the back of a Mountain, you watch him fight and train as you sew, and when you go into town you are permitted to stray into the markets and shops, with your personal guard barely a foot behind. You remind yourself you have more freedoms than any princess when you receive another scolding from your mother, when you long to attend the hunts. 

You are an affectionate person, Cersei knows that, but even she grows suspicious at how close Gregor has gotten to you. He carries you places as though you are his bride, as though you could not walk without him, and whispers begin of your behaviour in private being far less innocent. But, there is no evidence.  

Summer is a privilege and a pain all at the same time. The palace is hot, and sticky, as are you. Even with the soft breezes of night, the warmth hides not so far away. If anyone were to see you, they’d find you most indecent. Your nightdress is short, and covers just enough of your cleavage that your nipples are not exposed. If you jumped, or did anything other than walk a few slow paces, you aren’t sure they wouldn’t be. 

“Alright, Princess?”

You hadn’t realised Gregor was standing there. You are too hot and too bored to do anything more than feel a bit sorry for yourself. He knows that. 

The response you give is somewhere between a groan and a grunt, it makes him laugh. You like to make him laugh, it reminds you he isn’t just the big, scary Mountain you see in his armour. Which you suddenly realise he isn’t wearing. 

Your Mountain is dressed in a tunic, a red one- Lannister, obviously- And you aren’t sure you’ve ever seen him without his armour. But then, you suppose he isn’t off duty very much, his duties are very much full-time.

“Mh- What are you wearing?”

Gregor moves closer, throwing something light upon your bed,

“Goin’ out. Get dressed.”

He pulls you out of bed, an action which reminds you of your nurses doing the same. The man pulls your nightdress up for you, pulling a simple dress more suited for one of the staff over you, and a cloak on the top. 

“Thank Dana downstairs, she’s letting you borrow it.”

“Did you steal a dress?”

You are granted a shrug in response, you assume that means a yes. 

Though Gregor is not easily disguised, there are plenty of ladies in the Keep with your hair colour and figure. You could just as easily be a whore as you are a princess, and that delights you. 

The courtyard is dark and empty, no-one wants to venture out this late, not anyone who cares about their reputation, at least. The Street of Silk, and her sister streets, will all be bustling with off-duty guards, and whoever else feels the need for company. The guards stationed at the gates assume the same of Gregor when he passes, you think.

“Who’s watching the princess?”

Your heart jumps, you cling onto him almost suspiciously tightly, and you know that they notice.

“Do you think I care about the fucking duty board? Check yourself if you’re that bothered.”

The other scoffs at that, and you feel him jab your shoulder,

“Something wrong with your whore?”

“Don’t know, just taking her back.”

Gregor lifts you up, you hide your face in his shoulder. The guards let you pass, and once you are reasonably away from the Keep, he puts you back down.

“Arseholes.” The man looks back, keeping you close, “let’s have some fun, eh? I know the place.”

King's Landing is a seedy place, you know that even in the day, but at night, it ignites. The streets are filled with lust and shamelessness, you wonder if your septa might die at the sight of it. Whores line the streets, and you can tell which are the newer, poorer ones, and which of the women come from ‘respectable’ houses. He leads you through the Street of Silk, you know it even without any markers, from the drunk men lying against the walls, or on the ground, and you are frightened. 

You see no silk, you see blood and piss and far too much of other women, but that is all.  

The place he leads you to is clean, at least, and reasonably unassuming. There are candles and flowers outside, you wonder if this brothel is one of the higher-end ones, or if inside it is double as bad as the streets. 

You are sat neatly on a cushioned bench, and ladies bring you drink. Wines, and ales and other alcohols you have neither heard about nor tasted. You see them giggle to themselves, and you realise that your disguise is poor. They all know the Baratheon princess has graced their presence. It will have some impact on you later, the thought crosses your mind as Gregor tilts your third cup of wine down your throat, when one of them is offered a pretty gold coin in exchange for all of your secrets. 

But, you do not care. You are allowed to have fun, even if your idea of fun stems past the gossiping, and the sewing your mother would like you to do. 

“Gods-”

You are drawn from your thoughts by Gregor, who sets another cup down on the table,

“You Baratheons really can drink, Princess, that’s your fifth tonight.”

Sure enough, the cup in your hand has four identical siblings, strewn about in various positions across the table, and one on the floor. The man shakes his head.

“Well, how many have you had?”

“Don’t take wine. Woman’s drink.”

When the music begins, you aren’t truly sure if it’s real, or if your alcohol-addled mind has simply hallucinated it to entertain you; but Gregor shuffles his huge form over, and puts an arm around your waist, glancing occasionally to the platform in front of you, so you assume it to be real. 

The women who wear any clothes wear barely any at all. They dance with feathers, and pretty shiny things- Baubles and bells, which jingle with every step they take. Some have silver hair, Targaryen hair, and you are reminded that even though their fiery blood has faded out, given your father’s proclivity for murdering them, some men still want to tame the dragon. They wink, and they gasp, and they moan, as though their dancing is the most exciting thing they could have ever done. Some of the men- For it is all men- Jeer, they call them whores, and other words you can’t imagine anyone else repeating. It makes Gregor laugh, and for once you aren’t so sure if you like that. He notices, pressing a comforting kiss to your forehead.

“We’ll go to our room in a bit, yeah? You’ll like that.”

Not entirely sure what he means, you nod anyway. 

The dancers end in a puff of smoke and incense, you pretend not to notice as they slip away, with one, or two, or even three men chasing after them. You wonder if three men could even fit inside the one woman, and your mind brings you to unsavoury places. 

You don’t feel particularly drunk, the wine must have been watered down, but still, Gregor lifts you up to take you further into the brothel. The noises are no less than sinful- Groans, and cries and the screams of men as they finish themselves off. You hear names, whispered into the night, and the whores run to and from their entertainment rooms, in various states of blush and undress. Most are nude. 

The room you are brought to is right at the top of the brothel, where the Madame keeps her office, and her favourite pets. It is clean, and scented by the flowers about the place. The bed itself, for there is always a bed, is covered in soft pink curtains, pulled back and tied with silver ribbon. There are no windows, and no fireplace. 

“Only the best for the princess, eh? You’re lucky I did the Madame a favour.”

He has already pulled off his tunic, and sits upon the bed, pulling you onto him so your legs wrap around his waist,

“What did you do?”

“Killed her husband.”

You look up at him, pouting slightly.

“Why?”

“Because-” In an instant, his great body is atop of you, and you are slammed against the fabric of the bed. The thing itself creaks. “Your grandfather told me to.”

Gregor’s lips find your neck, his facial hair tickles against the skin, and you let yourself laugh,

“And you do everything the great Lord Tywin tells you to?”

The response you get is a grunt, and a squeal from your own lips when he pulls you closer toward him. You gain a kiss upon the lips for this intrusion. 

“I do whilst I’ve his pretty granddaughter in a whorehouse.”

As he continues to put kisses on your exposed skin, travelling almost as low as your breast, you suddenly realise you’ve found yourself in an unusual position of power. In a whorehouse, on your back, with a man double your weight and at least a foot taller than you upon you. This is the power your mother has told you a woman holds. 

“His pretty granddaughter, your princess. You should be serving me.”

You tilt your head away so he cannot see the smile which graces your face. He merely hums, near thoughtfully. Once again, you are lifted from below him, and put back on the throne you’ve made from his thighs. 

“How does my princess want served, then?”

His free hand finds yours, and you play with it like a child might a shiny thing they find upon the pavement. 

“Your fingers.”

“Aye, that’s a good plan,” He shakes his hand free from yours with little effort, it joins with the other at the small of your back, and poor Dana’s dress is torn to rags, leaving you in your little nightdress, the front having been pulled down completely, exposing your breasts to him. He says nothing. “Better get you prepared first, can’t bring you back split like a chicken, can I?” 

“Are you… that big?”

Your eyes widen at your own speech, how utterly unashamed you can be. There is little more you can do to sully your reputation at this point than to actually have the man inside of you, and you aren’t completely sure you won’t. But he finds some amusement in your words, grasping you gently, pulling you closer toward him.

“All of me is big, Princess.”

He is right, his hands are each the size of your face, if not bigger. His height is something known and feared by every man, woman and child in the Seven Kingdoms, and you sit delicately on his lap, growing increasingly excited by the ideas of what he might do to you.

One of those big hands grazes your bare arse underneath your nightdress, even the gentlest squeeze, with his strength, turns into a reasonably harsh pinch. You squeak, 

“Ow!”

Gregor tuts, 

“If that hurts you, Princess, I doubt you’re ready for the next bit.”

It travels back down, across your thigh, and sets itself, with the amount of grace you expect from Gregor, just shy of your cunt. He helps you settle in a more comfortable position, and pushes his middle finger into you. It hurts, even his fingers are enormous, far greater than your own, but it feels wonderful. You must be whimpering, because he shushes you with kisses, moving slowly and carefully, not daring to give you another one.

A second has you sobbing, quietly begging for him to stop. He won’t, you know that, and most of you doesn’t want him to.

By the time he considers you ‘adequately prepared’, you are hardly sure of your own name, let alone anything more complicated. You are covered in sweat, a scarlet blush across your whole face, and an overwhelming sense that you should probably be quite ashamed of yourself.

Gregor sets you down from his lap, onto the bed. You hope the night’s activities aren’t over, you do so want what you were certain he’d give you. He seems to notice, a smile graces his face.

“Just a minute, Princess,” He sounds almost scolding, like a schoolmaster, “Can’t fuck you dressed, can I?”

“I… Suppose not, no.”

Whilst you still have some shred of dignity, even if your nightdress clings to the sweat on your skin, and leaves next to nothing to anyone’s imagination, Gregor strips himself down to his entirety. Every scar, every muscle of his is completely visible, and something about it completely delights you. 

He almost laughs at how you gawk at him, eyes flicking between his legs, trying desperately not to show him you are, in fact, staring.

“Never seen a cock before?”

“Not… One I’m not directly related to, no.”

You are scooped back into his arms, onto your throne of flesh. Your Mountain bounces you just slightly, and you recall a nurse of yours doing the exact same thing at some point in your life. There is something oddly comforting about it.

He expects you to squeal and cry when it begins, when he pushes himself into you. And you do, just a little. There is a pressure you cannot quite explain, something eats at you from inside out, and your eyes fill up with pretty tears. He is there to make it better, of course, it is his duty to protect you.

Gregor is not the type of man to praise his woman, and he doesn’t. Not in words, at least. You cling to him, wrapped around his neck and whimpering into his shoulder, and he runs a hand up your clothed back in long, soothing motions. It does little to actually comfort you, but the thought behind it is nice. You are glad it’s this, and not the horror stories you’ve heard about your sworn guardian.

You know, in very limited detail, how a woman is supposed to give herself up to a man. You had thought it would hurt- That he would be rough, and you look down to see no blood, nor much of anything, his cock is hidden by the skirts of your nightdress. You wonder if that is enough to hide your sin from the gods.

“Alright, Princess?”

You cannot even look up to see his face, and you don’t know he’d want you to. Tears stream freely from your eyes, and all of you feels heavy, tired. You hope he’ll carry you back home. 

“Nearly.”

The break in his voice does not escape you. At least you know what’s to happen.

And slowly, carefully, his hand on your back finds your thigh, and the one on your thigh crawls between your legs. You are already prepared, already overwhelmed, and just the slightest touch is enough to set you off again,

“Hold off, Princess,” Had you the strength, you would beg him not to stop. Thankfully, he doesn’t, “Just one minute.”

And you try, but it is just too much for you to handle. You attempt to tell him, to give him some warning, but he knows.

He comes with a great roar, something that makes you jump. Gregor holds you tight enough to bruise, a reminder of his power, of how vulnerable you actually are, but you hardly care. 

Despite the very obvious plug between your legs, his seed still seeps out of you, onto your nice nightdress, onto him. You hadn’t thought it’d be so messy, but it does make some sense. You mutter something unintelligible, and he kisses your forehead. The world is good, and you wonder if anyone would find out should you make this a regular occurrence.

You awake the next morning in a different, more sensible nightdress. You smell clean, like lavender soap, like he’s had one of your ladies bathe you at some point. One enters with a breakfast tray, as per usual, and you pretend not to notice how she avoids your gaze. The two who help you dress are as chatty as usual. The older woman is as bubbly as ever, and her little assistant couldn’t frighten a sparrow if she wanted.

Gregor is usually standing outside when you emerge in the mornings. Today, it is Ser Meryn Trant. Not unusual, and nothing for concern; you assume Gregor has come down with a headache again. He suffers from them quite frequently, especially so in the hottest months.

Neither of you say anything, not until you’ve crawled down the steps and gotten to the throne room. Your muscles still ache, and your legs feel strange to walk upon, a night of being bent and thrown in any direction.

Tywin and Cersei are on either side of the throne; your mother sits, your grandfather stands. Your brother is tactfully in the corner, with his dog behind him. And the way Sandor looks at you, with undisguised disgust, you realise- they know.

Tywin’s face is still, your mother looks as though she might boil up at any given moment. The throne is empty, and you wonder where your father has gone.

“Princess,” It is Varys who speaks. Your mother’s little songbird, with nothing better to do than scour the kingdom for rumour, “We had heard some… rumours regarding your activities last night with Ser Gregor.”

You realise, this is your time to shine. You have always been dramatic, always good at making up little stories. You can fool your grandfather, you’ve always been able to. And if Lord Tywin is convinced, the rest of them shall follow; no-one doubts the Hand.

“W-What rumours, my lord?”

Cersei rolls her eyes. Your mother stands, moving down from the raised steps of the throne, facing you,

“You know what rumours. You were seen in a brothel last night, far past the time you should have been abed, and he carried you back half-naked. Do you deny it, Daughter?”

“I…”

You look between those in the throne room: your brother in the corner, his dog avoiding your gaze; Varys, and Littlefinger, your mother. Your gaze lands on Ser Meryn.

“Ser Gregor does not guard me at night.” You look at your grandfather, a sudden realisation coming upon you. “He is my personal guard, Grandfather, the Kingsguard have night duty. He needs to be rested for the day.”

Cersei flicks her head to Tywin, who appears to be thinking quite deeply,

“That is true, Ser Gregor has yet to be granted the white cloak.”

“Do you doubt my virtue, Grandfather? You know I would not lie on such matters, I am a princess, not a tavern wench.”

And he sighs, and you know that you’ve won him over,

“It is possible Ser Gregor entertained a woman of a- Similar appearance. The princess is not so foolish as to risk rumours of her purity, unlike some.”

A comment about your mother. You see Sandor smirk at it.

You are returned back to your bedchamber, and go about your day. The rumours are put aside, and it is decided that Gregor entertained a whore that night, no matter what anyone claims. There are plenty of men who take silver-haired whores as Targaryens, after all, there is hardly a difference with the new line of regency. 

Later, you are put in front of your father after supper. He’s heard, of course, through Varys, or Tywin or Cersei, or all of the above. Not that it matters.

Robert is arse-deep in his cups, and he doesn’t show any sign of stopping. Your father wraps one of his great hands around your shoulders,

“Did you fuck him, then?”

And there is no answer you can give him but the truth.

“Aye, Father, I did.”

Robert spends the rest of the evening laughing uncontrollably, getting suitably drunk. Your nights with Gregor confine themselves to your rooms, or to a variety of places where a princess would not be so out of place. Everyone knows, and no one says a word. And one day, when your husband of a cushy, lordly house gives you child after child, no one shall say a word when they each emerge taller than the next, when their resemblance is shockingly similar to your personal guard, and not their supposed father.

[lazyneonrabbitt]

The slip-up

Where Adar follows the wrong group during the attack on a settlement and ends up in a questionable place. AKA the Uruks find a brothel.

Blame the anon on @baddybaddyadardaddy's page

Village after village fell on Adar's quest to reclaim the Southlands and give his children a home. They all fell in the blink of an eye, but the larger settlement held up strong.

It was an elven home, the ones who watched over the mortals of the lands for eras before.

"Leave the homes. A cleared out settlement like this makes for great homes once we lay claim to these lands." Adar's commanders took his advice and stormed the place, taking lives, prisoners and looted armories before the locals had time to do so themselves.

But in the early night when most of thr place had been quiet upon their entry, there was one building where it was as lively as ever. Naturally drawn to the sounds of people Adar followed his troops towards the place, quickly hearing the screams of terror and the sounds of his children taking back what was theirs.

"Lord Father!" He had not made it inside yet and one of his kin came running back out. "Lord Father what is this place? It is strange, come and assist us in fight."

Inside there were uruk standing at the ready, others having made it past the folk downstairs and were causing trouble a floor above.

But that all did not concern him. In front of him stood the ones currently inhabiting the building. A few men who had carried weapons up front and hiding behind them stood elven women wearing..

Well, nothing but paneled skirts and a waistband holding them up. They his behind the bar area with bottles of of alcohol that had rags stuffed in them, flames at the ready to ignite them.

The one house he had decided to enter had proven itself to be a house of pleasure and they had barged in on their busiest night.

Adar stood frozen in place, entirely caught off guard by the bare skin and scent of arousal that lingered on every surface.

Only when an uruk came crashing down the stairs the men dared to advance, but they were easily slain by their enemy.

Now only the women were left, taking no moment to cower and tossed the burning flasks at the uruk, only to learn it was all way less effective as they had hoped and were soon approached by the intruders.

Not even screaming bloody murder would summon help, and desperate times called for desperate measures as one of them grabbed whatever was at hand and threw it, having the other maidens join in tossing glassware, serving trays and towels.

All of it was easily cast aside until one threw other cloths, one of which missed its target and thwacked Adar right in the face.

He swiftly grasped it and ...silk? with a strong scent..

In his hands he held a silken slip. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his uruks being assaulted with an array of thrown items, clunking against armor and thudding against skin leaving them weirded out and uncomfortable. He managed to catch the piece that flew at him, fumbling not to drop it as it was slick and kept getting away from him until he finally held it.

He was not pleased with the findings of the large, phallic shaped item in his hand. It was incredibly detailed, and large. In disgust he tossed is and wiped his hand on his clothes, unaware of the shouting coming from behind him.

"Men! Worthless when milkbags are out!" A shrill voice called and Adar soon noticed a barrage of female uruk had come in and taken care of the whole situation in mere moments. They rushed past and by the time he had caught up with it all it had all settled already.

The women were rummaging through the aftermath, laughing amongst each other. "Look! Thissun's bigger than my husband's." Adar watched one of ghem wiggle the fake penis he had thrown aside earlier, shaking his head and walking off.

Outside he found a group of his warriors huddled together, grumling and smiling suspiciously and found them toying with an array of different undergarments they clearly stole from the pleasure house.

But the battle was over and that was all that mattered. Now it was time for rest.

"Oh, come here, you scaredy cat!" A male ran past him, followed by the screeching voice of what Adar assumed was his partner. "It's fun I swear! Nice even!" His eyes followed them as she chased her lover with what looked like a stash of toys in her arms.

[wutheringskies]

Jin Guangyao and Wei Wuxian aren't the same.

Jin Guangyao is one of the best written characters I've come across. A villian that doesnt look like one, doesnt act like one, is likeable, has strong motivations and a defined personality and extremely fun to read fanfics about. But what I dislike is the role that fanon gives him; specially his role in the story with allusions to Wei Wuxian, casting Jin Guangyao as someone similar to Wei Ying. The "poor children turned to forced villains" trope. This meta is about WHY that's NOT true.

The humiliation of his mother didn't give him the right to burn down an entire brothel. (personally, I found it satisfying but). The desire of acceptance from his father was a motivation for his crimes, not a factor that validates those crimes. Often, Jin Guangyao is treated as the counter part of Wei Wuxian. They both share only three similarities, however:

1. Both came from low backgrounds and struggled a lot in their childhoods. Meng Yao had food, but witnessed constant humiliation. Wei Ying had nothing, and then got tangled into the fucked up dynamics of the Jiangs.

2. Both were found to be much different than what people believed them to be. Wei Wuxian was supposed to be evil, hateful, a murderer who kills just to satisfy his blood thirst and need for power, a monster. Jin Guangyao was supposed to be the guy who worked hard and rose to the top, humble, kind, honest and pure of heart.

3. Both had their reputations destroyed from targeted rumor mill.

That is all.

Other than that, Jin Guangyao is NOT at all similar to Wei Wuxian by any measure. He had to do bad things because he desired power, and to gain, power in a corrupt world, you need to be even more corrupted. He killed all those who looked down upon him (not bodily harm him). He clenched his teeth and killed everyone who protested against him or questioned him. He silenced everybody before they could silence him. He isn't SOLELY responsible but he only played the cards that would bring HIM benefit, not the cards that were righteous, or good, or kind.

Wei Wuxian never desired power, was willing to give up a limb for the safety of his sect. When has he ever raised his sword or his flute if not in self defense? When has he ever attacked first and when has he ever killed an innocent? The only innocent he's most directly responsible for is Jin Zixuan and that was too, in an ambush, where he was asked to back down.

Not just that, everyone is always talking about the Nightless City massacre but never about the Burial Mounds Seige 2.0 where all of the cultivators WOULD have DIED, if not for Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian.

If your reasoning behind justifying Jin Guangyao's actions and murders is the "intention" then you come across as hypocritical if you condemn Wei Wuxian for the Nightless City massacre, ignoring everything that led to it. His prowess in cultivation, his natural genius, and his terrifying powers that he built himself even after losing a core are not crimes that he should be punished for, but he was. Because he's supposed to be just the son of a servant. How dare he be so powerful? So many attempts on his life were made and he survived them all. So many attempts to summon his soul, and they didn't work.

Is surviving a crime? For the Jiang Cheng stans who always thrust the survivor narrative onto JC, this is a question for them. Was Wei Wuxian wrong to have survived incidents in which he was being attacked? Should he have died for doing absolutely nothing wrong, other than having a different voice? For standing against a structure that always prioritizes one being above all, being the ultimate voice that cannot be questioned?

Here I'm going to quote some parts from the ExR translation of Villanous Friends:

He Su, “What was the irresistible trend? What was stirring up trouble? Jin GuangShan wanted to establish the position of chief cultivator only to imitate the QishanWen Sect in being the only ones at the top. Do you think all the world is ignorant? You frame me like this only because I spoke the truth!”

When you really succeed, all of the world of cultivation would see the true face of the LanlingJin Sect. Do you think killing me alone would put you eternally at ease? How wrong you are! We, the TingshanHe Sect, teem with talent. From now on, we’ll unite and never surrender to you Wen-dogs of another skin!”

Sounds familiar?

After a few laughs, he continued, “Sect Leader Jin, let me ask you something else. Do you think that, because the QishanWen Sect is gone, the LanlingJin Sect has all right to replace it?”

Wei WuXian added, “Everything has to be given to you? Everyone has to listen to you? Looking at how the LanlingJin Sect does things, I almost thought that it was the QishanWen Sect’s empire all over again.”

Wei WuXian, “Did I say something wrong? Forcing living people to be bait and beating them up whenever they refused to obey—is this any different from what the QishanWen Sect does?”

These were voices that questioned the greater powers. This is what happened to these voices:

Jin Guangyao: That’s not the way to go about things, is it? The TingshanHe Sect rebelled and schemed to assassinate Sect Leader Jin with all its forces before it was caught red-handed. How could that be called without a reason?”

Flashback to Wen Chao, asking if the disciples in the Xuanwu Cave were rebelling when they protected Mianmian who was asked to be the live bait of a monster.

Also, flashback to Wei Wuxian standing up for the Wens and being called a rebel when he stood up for the Wens who were being used as live baits to strengthen the Jin.

The ones over there cried, “Brother! He’s lying! We didn’t, we didn’t!”

Flashback to Wen Ning "losing control" at Koi Tower probably due to Xue Yang's invention. But the point to be taken away is that Sect Leader He Su's younger disciples, who are harmless, are framed as murderers. A position similar to what Wei Wuxian was put into.

He Su, “Utterly nonsense! Open your eyes and fucking look! There are nine-year-old children here! Old men who can’t even walk! How could they rebel against anything?! Why would they assassinate your dad out of nowhere?!”

Funny how the evils of society comprised of old grandmas, uncles, a toddler, a doctor, a fierce corpse, and a cultivator with no status, no core, no money, no voice living in a cave with a pool of blood, digging the Burial soil to grow some potatoes.

And not those who were sitting on their thrones, reveling in riches and ordering people around.

Jin GuangYao, “Because you made a mistake and committed murder, Young Master He Su, while they refused to accept Koi Tower’s conviction of you, of course.”

"A mistake" reminds me of the incident at qionggi path. Even if Jin Zixuan hadn't died that day, they would've kept cornering Wei Wuxian until he'd have no other choice but to go on the offensive (which is what he did.)

Turns out even being sooo powerful that he could shake mountains, he eventually died.

Yet, at such a place, nobody would listen to his protests. Sitting before him were two villains who already treated him as though he were dead. What they enjoyed was precisely his dying struggle. Smiling, Jin GuangYao leaned back, waving his hand, “Hush him up, hush him up.”

"You shut them in live?"

Xue Yang turned around, curling his lips, “Wei WuXian never used live humans, but I wanna try.”

So, Xue Yang is an actual demonic cultivator who's protected by the Jins, murdered 2 entire clans and this is the third one and godness knows how many more. Absolutely very few people give actual fucks about what cultivation methods to employ. The one who really cared was perhaps, Lan Wangji.

Jin Guangyao as you can see isn't being "forced" to kill people because he's of lower birth and nobody accepts him :(

He's killing people to silence those who speak against his and his father's (and they both are one and the same entity. he's acting on his father's orders which he could've disobeyed and run away but he would lose his sect reputation and standing.)

Why does his reputation and standing mean more than the lives of all these 70 people ?

Were they trying to kill him? No.

Did they attack him first to the point he would lose his life? No.

Would they have thrown him into a whore house? No.

Let us please not compare Wei Wuxian and Jin Guangyao.

MXTX wants us to know what's said and told may not be right. Wei Wuxian isn't fond of the techniques that are used to confirm Jin Guangyao's demise. He's critical of how nobody else is concerned. He's unsure of what NHS's motivations are - does he now want complete power? or did his plan only extend up to his revenge? He's critical of how only yesterday people were all over this guy and today they hate him. Critical of how society works on what is favourable and not what is true.

But he's not SUPPORTIVE of Jin Guangyao. He's sympathetic to people turning onto you, but not empathetic towards Jin Guangyao. He believes Jin Guangyao to be a cruel man.

Those are two different things.

Nobody knows better than Wei Wuxian how it feels to be set up at every step:

1. Firstly he was used as a punching bag for Madam Yu and an emotional one for JC throughout his childhood

2. The Wens completely played him up, setting him as the cause of LP's fall.

3. Then, he was played by the Jins and the cultivation world until his death by validating JC's jealousy against him, by villianizing him and estranging him, by setting up the ambush, by sending JZX, by making false promises, by not checking for validity, by controlling Wen Ning, by setting up the seige parade, by getting JYL there, and finally the seige. (even after his death disrespecting his all)

4. He was brought back to the world on the revenge plans of NHS and tossed like a tennis ball from the plans of NHS and JGY. Yi City arc? children would've died -> NHS. Burial Mound seige 2.0? everyone would've died -> JGY. if LWJ wasn't with him at every step of the way, Wei Ying would've once again been in such a spot. Without any status or authority he would've gotten no help, no aid, and been villianized once more. He would've been stabbed and captured with nobody to save him. He would've made himself the bait without anybody to fight the monsters off.

Each of us have individual capacities and also, each of us have the one thing we cannot let happen:

1. Wei Ying can't let injustice prevail and sit by the side doing nothing

2. Jin Guangyao can't take in being stripped of power and being a lowlife again.

Those are two very different things. JGY made every decision he could to escape his grand fear, which was personal. I don't condemn his motivations personally cause I find them hot. Similar to how I find his character hot. Yet, he's not the hero on the opposite spectrum. He's not the lowlife who was killed because people can't handle people from lower birth statuses being on the top chairs for making decisions - but that is also true - but is not the reason behind his tragedy. Not the sole reason and also not the most important reason.

The most important reason is as it is said: he believes himself to be different and values his life over others, similar to Xue Yang. Their personalities vary greatly, yet his "true" friends were Xue Yang and Su She. (He showed glimpses of the truth and of his reality to LXC. So, he's hiding the truth and LXC doesn't wish to dig deeper anyways thus not a true friendship.) One wished to take revenge in extremely unfair shares, a clan for a finger. A clan for a son. The entire cultivation world could die but he couldn't be badmouthed or put on trial or killed. The other - Su She, wished to be recognized by those who he equally hated, despised and considered arrogant and also was jealous and envious of. So, these two traits - great desire for revenge onto everyone who's ever said anything mean about him, and the desire for power. You may argue how this developed from his childhood trauma but you can't argue that this justifies his cold blooded crimes because it doesn't. Another thing I'd like to add is that, his friendship with Lan Xichen also shows his personality; not wanting to take the messy, big path (such as showing up to your own death planning party, or planning a death party) and his relatively calm nature. Yet just like the friendship it is fragmented and fake; a composure that is stuck onto the cold, and hot brimming desire for power.

There was one character who had to kill a large number of people or would have no other option left and it wasn't Jin Guangyao. There was one character who was hated by society solely because of his background and his desire to protect people and it wasn't Jin Guangyao. There was one character who had to give up everything for what he believed in and it wasn't Jin Guangyao. There was one character who ended up being the indirect reason for the passing of loved siblings due to the unjust society.

and it wasn't Jin Guangyao.

(but there were two characters who had confirmed sex before marriage. one of them was Jin Guangyao)

[lansplaining]

why i don’t think jin guangyao killed rusong

(or had him killed) 

“Then... then even if you had no choice but to marry Qin Su, you still could have neglected her,” Lan Xichen said. “Why did you have to... And why go through with the trouble of siring A-Song, only to kill your son with your own hands?” 

Jin Guangyao clutched his head in his hands and said in a bitter tone, “...After the wedding, I never touched A-Su again. A-Song... was conceived before we were married. At the time, I was afraid that a delay would cause complications...” 

So he and Qin Su had consummated their union in advance. If not for that, he would never have ended up committing incest with his own younger sister. He didn’t know whether he should hate his father, who was hardly a father at all, or his own paranoid, overthinking self! 

Lan Xichen sighed. “Next-- and do not attempt to prevaricate-- but answer me. Did you intentionally plot Jin Zixuan’s death?” (7 Seas trans., 86-7) 

This is the sequence where Jin Guangyao lays everything out. Given what he chooses to reveal, it seems safe to assume that he isn’t hiding anything. So why do he and Lan Xichen just completely drop the Rusong question? There’s potentially an answer in the way Xichen frames the question-- that is, it’s a two-in-one of “why did you sleep with her and conceive a son only to kill him” and JGY’s response answers both-- I didn’t know when I slept with her and when I conceived him. 

But why does even the narration seem to forget about it? Why doesn’t it say, “he would never ended up committing incest with his own younger sister and having to kill his own son”?

I think... because he didn’t. I get annoyed by attempts to answer questions that hinge on how someone “would” or “should” act because everyone is different! But! Murdering your own son is something that would demand at least a little emotional unpacking, surely?? Or at least a little more explanation. He was a total innocent, and a child! But we get more time breaking down murders that are ten times more understandable, if not justifiable in the eyes of those listening, just from surface knowledge of the relationships. 

We even get other opportunities for it to come up, and it doesn’t. In the very next section, for example: 

“Despite us being born of the same man, why was your father able to spend his leisure time at home with his beloved wife, playing with his child, while I didn’t dare be alone with my wife and my blood ran cold at the sight of my own son?” (88). 

Again, dropping in “while I was driven to kill my own son” feels a little more rhetorically powerful-- if it happened. 

JGY leaves out potentially morally exculpatory evidence again and again when he isn’t asked for it directly-- like SiSi, like an explanation of how his mother was treated in the brothel he burned. The fact that he doesn’t go into Rusong’s death, and the fact that Lan Xichen just lets it pass without explanation, makes me think that the official version of events-- that he was killed in political retaliation-- is true. 

[jedimaesteryoda]

What was in Prince Nymor's Letter to Aegon I? (Updated)

Background

Aegon the Conqueror managed to forge the Seven Kingdoms into one with his dragons, but there was one exception: Dorne. The First Dornish War marked the only war where a kingdom managed to avoid subjugation by the Iron Throne. 

The Dornish avoided open battle as well as holing in fortresses. Rhaenys found all the castles in Dorne empty as she flew on Meraxes as the Dornish forces melted away. 

Meria: I will not fight you, nor will I kneel to you. Dorne has no king. Tell your brother that. Rhaenys: I shall, but we will come again, Princess, and next time we shall come with fire and blood. Meria: Your words, Ours are Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken. You may burn us, my lady, but you will not bend us, break us, or make us bow. This is Dorne. You are not wanted here. Return at your peril.

Princess Meria waited for her in Sunspear just to tell her off. Aegon placed his men to control castles, and declared victory only for the Dornish forces to return. Meria threw Lord Rosby from a window herself. 

Also, apparently the Dornish didn’t play nice. Entire garrisons were put to the sword. Knights were tortured, and Lord Wyl cut off the hands of captured prisoners-of-war, including Aegon’s Hand, Orys Baratheon. These actions violated the codes of chivalry, and had Aegon and his bannermen howling for vengeance, which led to a bloody cycle of retaliation and reappraisals. 

Aegon’s retaliation was swift as he and his sisters took to their dragons and burned Dornish castles. The Dornish responded by burning half the rainwood and sacking half a dozen towns and villages. The Targaryens then responded by burning more Dornish castles in dragonflame. The Dornish response to that was Lord Fowler capturing Nightfall and taking its occupants hostage and razing the nearby villages and towns. The Targaryens, then predictably, responded with their dragons again, but this time, miraculously, the Dornish managed to take down a dragon. A scorpion bolt in a one in a million shot, hit Meraxes in the eye, killing the dragon and ostensibly, the rider, Rhaenys. 

The death of Aegon’s favorite sister-wife was of course a huge personal blow, and it marked the start of the next two years of the war appropriately named the Dragon’s Wroth, the nadir of the war. Aegon and Visenya's initial response was to burn every castle in Dorne, except Sunspear. Some castles were even burned more than once with Hellholt, the site of Meraxes’s death, being burned three times. Aegon and Visneya also placed bounties on the heads of Dornish lords to which the Dornish responded by placing bounties on their heads as well as those of their allies. Half a dozen Dornish lords were assassinated while Aegon and Visneya survived several assassination attempts, and Lord Fell was murdered in a brothel. 

Finally, Meria Martell died, and was succeeded by her son, Nymor. Nymor took a different approach compared to his mother, and sent his daughter and heir, Deria, to King’s Landing with Meraxes’s skull and a letter. While Aegon’s queen and advisors pushed for Aegon to harm Deria, Aegon refused and heard out Deria. 

Dorne wanted peace, according to Deria—but the peace of two kingdoms no longer at war, not the peace between a vassal and a lord. Many urged His Grace against this, and the phrase "no peace without submission" was often heard in the halls of the Aegonfort. It was claimed that the king would look weak should he agree to such a demand and that the lords of the Reach and stormlands who had suffered so much for his cause would be angered.

Swayed by such considerations, it is said, King Aegon was determined to refuse the offer until Princess Deria placed in his hands a private letter from her father, Prince Nymor. Aegon read it upon the Iron Throne, and men say that when he rose, his hand was bleeding, so hard had he clenched it. He burned the letter and departed immediately on Balerion's back for Dragonstone. When he returned the next morning, he agreed to the peace and signed a treaty to that effect.

Aegon read Nymor’s letter, burned it, and left for Dragonstone on Balerion that day, only to return the following morning and to his court’s surprise, agree to Nymor’s terms of ending the First Dornish War with the Iron Throne recognizing Dorne’s independence. 

No one knows the contents of that letter, but there are theories as to what was in that letter that led Aegon to forgo his aim to conquer Dorne and agree to Nymor’s peace. Let’s look at the possibilities offered.

1. Did he threaten to take all the wealth of Dorne to hire the Faceless Men to kill Aegon's young son and heir, Aenys? 

The problem with this one is Aegon "flew to Sunspear on Balerion on the tenth anniversary of the peace accords to celebrate ‘a feast of freindship’ with Deria Martell” with Aenys accompanying him. I doubt Aegon would willingly celebrate such a treaty with Princess Deria, and do so, by bringing along the son they threatened to kill if he didn’t sign. That would just make things awkward.  

Also, the whole point of hiring an assassin, especially a Faceless Man, is to get someone killed without you being implicated. If you say that “if person A dies, it's definitely because of me,” that would be a clear invitation to retaliation from the victim’s family and allies. 

The man whom this threat was made to burned every castle in Dorne in retaliation for Rhaenys’s death. It doesn’t take much speculation to imagine how he would have responded to the death of his son borne by that same woman. A threat like that likely wouldn’t have intimidated Aegon into signing the treaty, but more likely angered him and provoked threats of retaliation.

One must also note that by the time of the meeting (13 AC) Maegor had just been born the year before (12 AC). Even with Aenys dead, Aegon would still have had a son to continue the Targaryen line, and it wouldn’t have been a permanent end to the Targaryen threat. 

2.  Did Nymor reveal that Rhaenys lived still, broken and mutilated, and that he would end her suffering if Aegon ended hostilities? 

It doesn’t take a genius to see the problems with this one. The proposal is basically to tell Aegon "Hey, remember your beloved queen Rhaenys, she's alive, we've just been torturing her for the past two years. Agree to this peace and we'll kill her, the thing that you burned Dorne over thinking we did."

For Aegon, the idea of Rhaenys having been left broken after being tortured and mutilated for two years undoubtedly would have enraged him in such a manner that would have befit his sobriquet “the Dragon”, and had him threatening swift and brutal retaliation. He would have demanded Rhaenys back, no matter what condition she was in. I also seriously doubt Aegon would take Rhaenys’s son, Aenys, to celebrate the peace with Deria that was signed on the condition of killing his tortured mother. 

Nymor would also have demonstrated himself to be an idiot by needlessly endangering his daughter, Deria. By sending her, he would have handed Aegon a potentially valuable hostage on a silver platter that Aegon could use to counter any threats against Rhaenys. It also undermined the message of goodwill by bringing the skull of Meraxes.

There is also the question of if they had Rhaenys alive this whole time, why the hell didn’t they use her before, the moment they had captured her? The Dornish would have to be complete fools to not see how valuable a hostage Aegon’s favorite sister-wife could be. They at the very least could have used her to negotiate a ceasefire, and given themselves some respite.

3. Was the letter ensorceled?

Short answer: no. I don’t think we’ve seen magic capable of influencing someone’s consciousness with the most being tales of love potions.

4. Some claim it was a simple plea, from one father to another, heartfelt words that touched King Aegon’s heart.

This seems a little too romantic. I mean even if the words did touch Aegon’s heart, there were still political realities to consider, and I don’t see how relating as a father would move Aegon enough to forget about Rhaenys, the woman who first made him a father to begin with. 

5. Others insist it was a list of all those lords and noble knights who lost their lives during the war.

I admit while showing a king the human costs of his war isn’t unappealing to me, one must note that “the Reach, the stormlands and the marches had suffered grievously during the fighting, and would never forgive and forget.” The relatives of those same lords and knights who died in the Dornish War largely wanted the war to continue to avenge their relatives, and would potentially have seen a Dornish peace without submission seemingly make those deaths in vain. 

It also wouldn’t be the first time Aegon suffered a personal loss in his conquest. He lost his distant cousin and one of his family’s closest friends, Daemon Velaryon, in the first Targaryen assault on the Vale. Yet, he continued his conquest regardless. 

What actually was in the letter?

Think back to Robert’s Rebellion with Dornish anger over the horrific deaths of Elia and her children as well as the death of Lewyn at the Battle of the Trident. Jon Arryn managed to avoid rebellion by the Dornish by returning Lewyn’s bones to Dorne, and negotiating with Prince Doran. 

Returning the remains of a fallen relative is an act of respect. It is mentioned that Rhaenys’s bones were never returned. Neither were the bones Elia and her children, but that was because they were given the Targaryen custom of cremation.

I think Rhaenys’s body was likely given the same treatment. What Nymor may have mentioned in the letter is that he was returning Rhaenys’s ashes from her funeral pyre to Dragonstone. That is why Aegon left for Dragonstone that day on Balerion, he wanted to meet up with the ship carrying her urn. 

That leaves the question of why Aegon burned the letter. It likely mentioned how Rhaenys died. It must be mentioned that in the Dance of Dragons, dragonriders have survived their dragons falling to the ground like Aegon II on Sunfyre (twice) and Baela on Moondancer, though with serious injuries. Rhaenys actually may have survived the fall, and they put her in bed and gave her a maester to recuperate.

Note, that "his hand was bleeding, so hard had he clenched it," or his hand was stained with Targaryen blood, a trope going back to Cain's hands being stained with the blood of his brother Abel. The letter likely stated that when Aegon attacked Hellholt in retaliation for Rhaenys's purported demise, she was in one of the towers Balerion had burned. In other words, Rhaenys had died not by Dornish hands but by his own hand. The crime he had pinned on the Dornish, and made them suffer for was his own. In his pursuit of vengeance, he had destroyed the one thing he had loved most.

The kinslayer is cursed, and that meant that House Targaryen had been tragically cursed from the start. The tradition of dragons slaying dragons would continue to plague the generations of Aegon's progeny.

Throughout the war, both sides did a lot of awful stuff with the Targaryens burning everything in Dorne in dragonflame, and the Dornish responding by engaging in torture, mutilation and assassination (which the Targaryens did first). All those actions did was escalate the war, and result in more brutal retaliation from the Targaryens with each side upping the violence, brutality and destruction. However, by performing this one honorable gesture, Nymor managed to succeed where his mother failed in ending Aegon’s attempts to subdue Dorne. Aegon having learned he had inadvertently killed his own beloved wife made him realize the futility of the Dragon's Wroth and agree to the terms to end the war.

[symphonyofsilence]

Shits Jiggy has done in order of iconicness & badassery (or the top 13, at least. 'Cause, everything he does is iconic & badass. Yes, that includes saying "Xue Yang did it" with a fucking bloodied Wen sword in his hands that he had just pulled out of the intestines of the fallen captain right in front of NMJ. Respect!):

His death! This fucking part!

Jin GuangYao coughed up quite some blood, his voice hoarse, "Lan XiChen!"

He forcefully broke through the spell of silence.

At the moment, Jin GuangYao was injured from top to bottom. His left hand was burned by the poisonous smoke, his right hand was severed, and his stomach was missing a chunk of flesh. Covered in blood, he couldn't even manage to sit upright, yet right now he stood on his own without any help, like one last streak of light from a setting sun. He called again in a voice filled with hatred, "Lan XiChen!"

And then! He pulled the sword out himself! And then! He spilled his own blood over NMJ's coffin to envoke him! And his last words were "fuck you Nie MingJue! Do you think I'm scared of you?" While NMJ lifted him by his throat with one hand and choked him to death! He took control even in his murder! In the middle of being killed! He took control! He died on his own term! Badass!

His mother was bullied & ridiculed & humiliated in a brothel, so he burnt that brothel to the ground and made a temple for his mother in its place. I'm sorry about the casualties but it ain't about them.

Was thrown down the stairs of Jinlintai, was not accepted into the Jin Family or even acknowledged as a person that exists when he was working for them, when finally accepted only after becoming a war hero was given a wrong generational name and treated as a glorified servant, but eventually manipulated, mansplained, manslaughtered, manwhored (& did a lot, lot of hard, competent work) his way to the top & became the Sect Leader of the Lanling Jin Clan. Was considered the lowest of lows in his society and eventually became the Chief Cultivator! (& a VERY GOOD Chief Cultivator at that! He helped the weak & fought against systematic corruption and ruled through a decade of peace and prosperity) ICONIC! BADASS! TALENTED! INCREDIBLE! AMAZING! SPECTACULAR! SHOW-STOPPING! NEVER THE SAME! TOTALLY UNIQUE!

The way he kills Wen Ruohan in the books! "Do what you want" "yes." *kills him*

Meng Yao, "Now, that's not the way to go about this. With Sect Leader Nie's sturdy body, he might become all great and mighty again after just a few days of rest."

Wen RuoHan, "Do as you please."

Meng Yao, "Yes."

Yet, as he responded, a cold light, thinner than thin, slashed out and across. Wen RuoHan suddenly turned quiet. Warm droplets of blood splashed onto Nie MingJue's face.

The thematically appropriate way in which he killed his father. I mean just killing JGS was a service to society, but to kill him like that? 10/10. Inspired. (I guess it was actually kinda inspired by what Sect Leader He said, wasn't it?)

The things he does every time he's thrown down the stairs? When he gets up with difficulty and straightens his clothes & his hair & wipes the dust off them and bows with that "consider your ass kicked<3" smile in a low angle shot as the sun shines above him/ smiles the "you're so fucked, bestie. You just have to catch up to the fact that you're fucked, bestie.<3" smile as he goes up those long-ass stairs with difficulty as he bleeds from the head? And that straightening his clothes he does, in general, every time he's humiliated? I mean badass in general but when you consider that he was told by his mother that he shouldn't let his hat be slanted, 'cause clothes maketh men it takes more meaning. It means "I'm still a gentleman. you cannot touch me. I'm still in power, & I'm coming for you." I mean, It's very sad. as is everything else about him. especially JGS throwing him down the stairs scene. but the thing is that every time something sad happens to him, he has the coolest reaction to it that anyone could possibly have.

This is more obvious in the show. The way he kills the big baddie of the Jianghu, the most powerful man alive, the main villain of the past timeline (by backstabbing him, after being a spy in his realm without anyone noticing anything, doing tortures for him & becoming so close to him in such a short period.) and immediately convinced EVERYONE to go "oh this poor innocent paragon of virtue, this noble lord, had to kill a bitch.😔 he must be so hurt and traumatized and scarred for life.😔 I'll pay for your therapy.😔" And he was like: "do not flatter me so, my lords. You are the true heroes. Please pardon me for not killing him sooner. I shall live with these scars and trauma.😔"*off to the next murder*How can you not stan!❤️ (like...he's named Lianfang-Zun! The master of hidden fragrance! And nobody suspects that he might be hiding something!)

the Guanyin temple is the first scene in which we see him fight. And boy does he fight! He hands Sandu Shengshou's ass to him! And remember that Jiggy has a very weak golden core. And JC has WWX's golden core that is even stronger than his own & his own was pretty freaking strong. I mean did he cheat a little? Maybe. But he had enough presence of mind to think of aiming for WWX in the middle of a fight with a pretty pissed-off JC that was going after his life with both Sandu & Zidian. And he was so good at knowing people & had such a high emotional intelligence to know that JC would fall for the trick!

Interrupting his big villain moment to ask WWX how comes he & LWJ are not sleeping in the same room (and they did, actually. Before that thing happened. He was right.) And politely and respectfilly put a pause on his plan to help let his and his boyfriend's ship sail.

The way he creates unnecessary homoerotic tension in every interaction and flirts with anyone & everyone even Baxia when he's in his openly villainous mode. (Openly villainous Jiggy is my favorite Jiggy)

Divorcing Jiang cheng without being married

Divorcing Nie Mingjue without being married

"I think it's best if Young Master Wei stops right there. It's nothing if your flute's broken, but if your tongue or your fingers went missing, it'd be such a shame."

Wei WuXian immediately put his hand away, agreeing, "You make so much sense.

The person, "May I request your company?"

Wei WuXian nodded, "You're too polite,Sect Leader Jin."

Jin GuangYao smiled, "It's my pleasure."

Wei WuXian, "LianFang-Zun, you hid quite a big land deed in the secret chamber of Fragrant Palace, right beside my manuscripts. Don't you remember?"

Jin GuangYao, "Oh, that would be my fault. I should've put them separately."

Wei WuXian, "Right now, we won't be able to run from your grasp no matter what, so could you perhaps tell me just what a creature is being suppressed in this Guanyin Temple, LianFang-Zun, and quench my curiosity a bit?"

Jin GuangYao smiled, "Quenching your curiosity doesn't come at a low price. Young Master Wei, are you sure you'd like to try?"

Wei WuXian, "Oh. On second thought, then, nevermind."

Meng Yao's voice was approaching, "Your subordinate is useless to have needed your presence, Sect Leader"

Wen RuoHan laughed, "You good-for-nothing."

Meng Yao laughed as well. Wen RuoHan asked, "He's the one who killed Wen Xu?"

He's like if I'm ending their whole career I might as well give them a "this better not awaken anything in me" crisis, too. Just as a little treat. Very bad bitch of him!

English title drop in the show

Was just dropping off the kid he was babysitting at school, walked up to the first Jade of Lan, the most eligible bachelor in the Jianghu, gave him one look, and the man was GONE! Meng Yao bagged him just like that on one of his usual working days.

Last but not least, "Xue Yang did it." (As promised)

[freddycartr]

review for heir by sabaa tahir. spoilers obviously.

i went into this book expecting the same kind of strength that i take from helene and elias to be present in at least quil. i expected quil to be every bit of deadly violence and strength that was honed into him by helene and elias. i expected him to be as ruthless and brutal like the mask he was trained to be, but he instead runs away from four men when helene would have taken them out easily. instead he’s a love sick puppy. who is afraid of his duty…and sabaa genuinely said that he loves his people? no, honey, leaving your aunt in a ruined castle while you run and go on a journey where you act like an idiot for the entirety of the book and not the leader you were fucking born to be is fucking ridiculous. the difference between him and helene is that helene did not want the throne, and yet she is the empress who did not abandon her people, who stayed in antium, who would have never fucking run away. she even tells him, “skies, knows i’ll fight.” she does not give up even when her city fell, (again) even when her family was murdered in front of her eyes. she. fucking. does. not. give. in. like this is the woman who got caught by aiz just to kill her, “the only reason you caught me is because i let you. the woman smiled, a knifes blade shinning in the dark.” (also that bitch does not have the right to be in the same room as helene acquilla). that is the kind of metal that i was expecting for quil. but instead what i get is a fucking child who spends his time being manipulated, doesn’t kill four men, didn’t know what to do when they sail a kergari boat, can barely come up with a plan, and a love sick puppy. he allows an ankanese man to drive a blade into his own throat because quil failed to check that his ropes were properly bound—as if helene or elias would ever do something so stupid. he said he was trained like a mask, by helene and elias no less, yet, he flickers—sometimes acting like the warrior he was born and raised to be, and others acting like a chicken with its head cut off—getting caught and walking right into traps.

i expected him love him immediately but i found myself drawn to sufiyan and tas rather than helene aquilla’s fucking nephew. why? because tas ran fucking circles around everyone in that brothel and is a damn good spy. because he’s actually clever. because sufiyan is just as wicked and deadly like his father. like the way he put a dagger to sirsha’s throat after meeting her for a second, yup, definitely elias’s kid. oh my god, i love keri and how in the span of two scenes, she is more metal and strength than quil showed the entire book. i would have preferred kari’s pov to aiz (the fucking little bitch).

oh, the romance was fucking awful. sabaa tried to be something she’s not with the romance aspect. like “ugh. his voice. deep and warm and sure,” like i think i just gagged. how the hell is this the same woman who wrote “his cloak falls away from me, and my body is against his. he pulls me to his chest, his hands running down my back, clasping my thigh, drawing me closer. closer. i arch into him. revealing in his strength, his fire. the alchemy between us, twisting and burning and melding, until it feels like gold.” or “don’t tell me you’ve not seen a naked solider before, captain. a long pause, then a chuckle, low and husky. it makes me feel strange. like he’s about to tell me a secret. like i would lean in closer to hear it. not one like you, blood shrike.” oh and not to mention, where the fuck is the consent? with both of the sex scenes. just because two characters want each other does not mean they should not have verbal consent. even avitas asks for helne’s consent, “tell me why you're here." “you know why." i try to turn away, but he will not let me. “but i need you to say it. please." oh my god, the controlling/possessive aspect of their relationship fucking made me so mad. for example, “the sure way that he held her, as if she belonged to him and always had.” and “she wanted to throw him to the ground and climb on top of him and claim him the way he was claiming her.” what. the. hell. sabaa. oh, and not to mention, “tell me, sirsha, how i am supposed to know when you want me if you never touch me? assume i always want you.” (359) or “i’m more interested in the punishments for breaking them,” (358) when sirsha says they need to set ground rules for their relationship, and quil immediately is, in sirsha’s own words “in direct defiance of her orders,” breaking the boundaries that she set isn’t hot, that isn’t sexy. that is just controlling, not healthy, and horrible writing. quil doesn’t get to decide what’s best for sirsha, or their relationship, and the way that helene aquila or lia of serra, if put in the same situation, would have put a dagger to the man’s throat for daring to think that a man knows what best for them. i don’t have the words—what makes tahir’s books so beautiful is love is a subplot, not the whole damn book. her characters are driven by grief, hope, rage, and vengeance—not some love sick puppy like quil who feels lost, and fearful—like he has the same blood as helene aquila, who survived everything being stripped from her, his mother survived the violence of marcus, and he was trained by elias and, yet, he feels like a child, out of his depth and with no bite or steel. moreover, as sabaa tahir is writing a YA novel where young girls read and learn, having multiple sex scenes without verbal consent is downright unforgivable.

[cuckoo-among-beasts]

HC: Huaisang's Revenge

This post might be edited and added to, since I might forget things or feel the need to change something in case another idea pops up, but hopefully, most will remain the same after posting.

First of all, Huaisang isn't a ruthless person, nor is he power-hungry. Mingjue is the only person he would ever do this type of revenge for. Mingjue was his world, his dage and in many ways also a father figure and best friend. They were close. Very close. A bit co-dependent actually.

Huaisang wasn't fully alone in his revenge. He had occasional help from his right-hand-man , Nie Shuchang. However, he knew far from everything. Huaisang has also learnt how to use some of his bird for "far-sight", as in him being able to see through the birds' eyes. There's also been a couple of adapted teleportation talismans used, but with his mediocre core, it actually ends up making him sick. Though that helps with his Headshaker persona. Anyway, his secret use of cultivation to find things out is partly what leads to Huaisang appearing to have a weaker core than he has. The other reason is the need to secretly subdue Mingjue's arm for many years.

Also, the Headshaker person, although a mask is not a full lie, he just played up the emotions that were already there.

Now, to the actual revenge.

Huaisang's grief for his brother was, as expected, immense. He didn't eat, drink, sleep and barely moved. He was devastated and needed help with even the most basic of needs. It was during this time that Lan Xichen offered to play Cleansing for Huaisang, hoping it might help in some way. From the first time it was played, Huaisang noticed it sounded different from when San-ge played it. He has a good ear, but he thought that maybe he was wrong, but after Xichen played it three times for him, Huaisang knew that he was right, Jin Guangyao's version of Cleansing had been different. Had he purposely hurt Mingjue with it? Huaisang wanted to believe that it was San-ge mislearning the song, but he also knew about his memory, that he doesn't forget. The realisation and acceptance of it happened over days, not wanting it to be true, but he had to admit to himself that it was very possible that his beloved friend and 'brother' had helped killing his Da-ge.

To see if there were any traces of this, of this dark melody being used on his brother, Huaisang went to examine his brother's body. It was then that he discovered that the body was gone. Someone had robbed the grave and stolen Mingjue's body from his last resting place. Finding this infuriated Huaisang and he started to feel fairly certain who the culprit was: Jin Guangyao. He still needed more evidence though.

Though trying to find his brother's body turned out to be hard. He wasn't even sure where to start. Maybe looking into Guangyao would help? So he began trying to figure out the man, digging into his past and that was when he began finding more of the things he had done, such as brutally murdering Jin Guangshan (not that Huaisang cried any tears over that) and burning down the brothel. Unfortunately, he still had little luck with finding his brother's body, however, he knew of someone interested in demonic cultivation that might be able to help, even if he had lost his mind (or so he had been told).

While Huaisang kept looking for more parts of his brother, Mo Xuanyu's mistreatment by his family got worse and he one day got a message for help. Huaisang went there and admitted he had found no proof of Jin Guangyao's lies about Xuanyu, but that revenge would find Guangyao eventually. Mo Xuanyu was barely functional at all by then, but he did manage to tell Huaisang about his plan, about how he wanted to take his revenge on his family. So here they were, two previously kind and timid people, both pushed to their limits by Jin Guangyao, the difference was that one has get further mistreatments and the other had lost the person meaning the most to him. Hearing about Xuanyu's plan, Huaisang realised this could work to both their favours and he suggested that his friend called on a very specific soul: the Yiling Patriarch, aka Wei Wuxian. And so he did. The reason Huaisang wanted Wei Wuxian to return was mostly because he knew he had the knowledge and talent to find the rest of Mingjue, but he also knew how unpredictable he could be, so he might not take the breadcrumbs, although Wuxian did love a good puzzle to solve. However, a small part of the reason was also sentimentality and guilt, feeling like he hadn't done enough to protect him the first time.

Mo Xuanyu had been kind to Huaisang when they met in Golden Carp Tower, not making fun of him for his anxious ways and weak cultivation. He was kind to Jin Guangyao too and the two had found a shared interest in demonic cultivation, something Huaisang didn't find out until later. Not until he began researching Guangyao's past and he went to talk to Mo Xuanyu the first time since his banishment. That was also how he found out that Jin Guangyao had lied about Xuanyu's interest in him and made it seem like he had behaved inappropriately to get him sent away. This was partly because he was jealous at him for getting better treatment by their father, but also because Mo Xuanyu had seen something he shouldn't. Exactly what he had seen, Huaisang never found out, because remembering it seemed to drive the young man over the edge and into fullblown panic.

When Huaisang later returned to Mo Xuanyu to ask if he knew how to find Mingjue's body, the young man agreed, but only if Huaisang promised to help him get revenge, since he figured justice was out of the question. Huaisang did agree, feeling sorry for his friend. It was Xuanyu's knowledge that helped him find Mingjue's left arm and this was when Huaisang understood that Jin Guangyao hadn't just taken his Da-ge's body, he had also dismembered it (do minimise the risk of the fierce corpse coming after him). It made him want to vomit and for a moment, the world went red as fury rose up inside him, consuming him.

Once the ceremony was done, Huaisang waited nearby, releasing his brother's left arm once the Lan Juniors had arrived and he was certain that Wei Wuxian now inhabited Mo Xuanyu's body. And from then things began to roll on quicker than ever before.

Besides observing things unfold, what else is Huaisang a part of? He was indeed present at the Stone Castles, aka the Nie Ancestral Hall. However, the events there was not his doing. He did not know that his Da-ge's legs were in there, nor did he know that Jin Ling was going to disturb the place. He did let Lan Wangji catch him though, knowing that it would be best if they found out what the place actually was, even if he didn't like telling this particular secret.

He did lure the Juniors to Yi City, despite knowing the danger they would be in, not that they weren't good at getting into danger on their own. Though he hoped they would be okay, not taking any pleasure in the death of children. He had calculated it and with them being in a group and with Wangji and Wuxian getting there, since he kept an eye on them too, the likelihood of the boys surviving was high. The reason he lured the Juniors to Yi City was not mainly to up the tally of deaths to pin on Jin Guangyao, but rather to make it more likely that Wuxian and Wangji came there, knowing that Xue Yang lived in the ghostly place and if he was caught, it would add to the evidence of Jin Guangyao's misdeeds as well as the reason for Mingjue's murder.

It was also around this time that his threatening letter arrived to Jin Guangyao, provoking him into moving faster, and therefore more sloppily, than he would've wanted. Risking to show the world who he was. And indeed he does.

Around the same time, he bribed Bicao to tell Qin Su about their incestuous marriage and that her husband had killed their son. Beside murdering Mingjue, this was the crime Huaisang found to be the worst. Maybe not the incest itself, even if that was wrong too, but murdering your own son. What he hadn't expected was that Qin Su would kill herself (or be killed by Guangyao, depending on how you view it). He felt guilty for this since Qin Su had always been kind to him.

With Jin Guangyao now having to move Mingjue's head, Huaisang watched him and then followed, finding out where he decided to hide the head. He then retrieved it as well as taking Meng Shi's body, but unlike what Wei Wuxian later thought, he did not dismember her. He actually planned to, but realised that he couldn't. Instead he felt sorry for yet another of Jin Guangshan's victims.

Now having the head, the whole body was in his possession, even if it was also guarded by Lan disciples, he decided to put it back together. Why? There was actually nothing nefarious behind why. He had hoped that it might bring his beloved brother some peace to be whole again, a part of him even hoping that he might somehow regain consciousness and recognise him. It did not.

Huaisang is then part of the Second Siege of the Burial Mounds. There he played the roll of the one who helped making others listening to what Wei Wuxian had to say. And of course being hopeless and pathetic.

As they leave the Burial Mounds, knowing where they're headed, he called for Bicao to come there and for Sisi to be saved and brought there as well. There they would both lay witness to the evil deeds of Jin Guangyao.

To the final thing. Did Jin Guangyao move? Or was it all a ruse from Huaisang? He actually and honestly doesn't know. Maybe he did? Or maybe Huaisang's fear of Guangyao surviving and his slight grudge against Lan Xichen made him see something that wasn't there? When it happened, he knew, he thinks, but now... now he really doesn't know (though er-ge didn't kill him anyway, so what's the fuss).

Guanyin Temple. He let Su She capture him, something he had planned for since he figured out Jin Guangyao would go there before leaving. What he hadn't planned was for so many to be there. This made it all a little tricker since he didn't want all the others to die and he didn't really need more people to hear what kind of person Guangyao was, that had already been told in Lotus Pier.

Not all is an act in the temple though. The shivering was true, he was scared as well, even if also furious. The sight of the melted Jin cultivators truly made his stomach flip, never having been one to stomach sights like that. It was also emotionally straining to see his Da-ge as a fierce corpse (even if he had been the one attaching the head to his body), moving, appearing almost alive and not even recognise his didi anymore. It hurt and it was tumultuous. However, he did indeed make it so Su She stabbed his leg, well, he made it so it looked like Su She did it. Moving in the way on purpose, knowing that the scream and smell of his blood would make Mingjue's corpse pay attention to them and then noticing Guangyao again. He was also well aware that this might kill him, but here's the thing: Huaisang never planned to survive his revenge. He had expected to die with Jin Guangyao. What did he even have to live for anyway? This is also the reason he could put so many people in danger, how he could deceive and lie without problem, he had planned to pay with his own life in the end.

[strscrossed]

marleyan eren with a hatred for island devils going undercover and meeting paradisian town girl mika (or underground night worker mika who was never rescued 🥺)

this was collecting dust so! i finally wanted to sit down and write it out! i hope you enjoy!

The first time he sees her, it’s on a humid June evening. She steps out of the flower shop that she owns, locking the door. It’s that sweet smile, and he knows he’s a goner. 

It wasn’t supposed to happen, obviously. She’s an Island Devil. He hates the devils. He hates what they represent. He hates how happily ignorant they remain in their cage while Eldians worldwide suffer. It burns his insides. 

Until he meets her. 

He’s gotten used to sleeping in crappy inns when he has money and dark, smelly alleyways when he doesn’t. She caught him on one of those nights. 

“You can stay with me. It’s a tiny apartment just a block away but I’m happy to share.” 

Her name is Mikasa Ackerman. A beautiful name, he thinks. A beautiful name for such a beautiful person. 

It’s awkward at first. He doesn’t know what to say to her. She just smiles at him. Some mornings, he can tell she’s spent the whole night crying, but even with her bloodshot eyes and bruised under eyes, she finds it in her to smile at him. 

She’s an Island Devil. He shouldn’t care if she’s unhappy or not. Who is she to him? Just a foolish girl with a kind heart that invited him into her home. It’s like inviting a snake into her bed but she never thought twice. 

But her sadness bothers him. Her tears infuriate him. And as the summer goes on, their small talk turns into long nights of talk. 

Just like him, she’s an orphan. Her family was murdered and she’d been sold into a brothel at the tender age of nine in the Underground. How she got out. How she isn’t angry at the world, he doesn’t understand. 

“The world is very cruel. But it’s also very beautiful. It gave me the strength to start over…” 

It stumps him. To him, the world had always been ugly. The world had taken his mother from him, had driven his father into madness, and had beaten him down in various ways. And all that anger had been placed onto the unknowing Island Devils. 

Something changes between them. Lingering stares, small touches. It’s almost domestic. Eren likes to pretend that it is. It’ll come to an end one day, unbeknownst to her, but for just a short time…he wants to pretend. 

In another life, he would’ve acted on these feelings. In another life, he would’ve asked her to run away with him. In another life, he would just be Eren and she’d just be Mikasa. Maybe they’d get married. Maybe they’d start a family. 

Maybe, maybe, maybe…

One evening, he’s sitting on the floor while she massages his temples. She has magical hands. 

“I don’t know how you do it, Mik. You’re incredible.” 

Her chuckle is a sweet, soft sound. Like a lullaby. It soothes his nerves. In his hell of a life, she’s the only thing that has ever brought him a semblance of peace. 

“Well Eren, maybe you should learn to let things go. For your own peace.” 

She can’t see him but his lips curl downward into a frown. 

He can’t do that. He knows he doesn’t have forever with her. His life isn’t meant to be peaceful. But for some time, he can temper the fire that rages within him. With her, he can pretend to have a life that would ultimately belong to someone else. 

He leans into her as her fingers work their magic…

[flowerandblood]

My Best Friend (25)

[modern! club owner • Aemond x fem!reader]    

[warnings: swearing, physical violence]

[description: Aemond has his own club and often does business at the home of one of his business associates. There he often meets his younger sister, with whom he develops a deeper relationship through shared secrets. This is slow burn love story.]

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

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

"Get out." Aemond tried his best to stay calm and not pull Y/N out of the car by force. He was standing in front of the open door on the side of her seat, they were under his apartment building. "I'll give you the keys to my apartment, you wait there and I'll be back in an hour."

"I don't want you to go to a place like this alone. I'll worry, I'd rather be with you." She said in a tone that brooked no argument. Aemond squeezed his eye shut. He wanted to grab her and just pull her arm by force, but she quickly unbuckled her seat belt and jumped over to the driver's seat. Aemond stared at her, not knowing whether to laugh or scream. “I will not stay here. You can't make me!" She said, moving as far away from him as possible so he couldn't reach her.

Aemond wondered why everyone was doing this to him, and for once, someone just couldn't listen to him. Talking to Alys, his mother, and now her, had completely exhausted his patience. However, just as he felt with Alys that he could really do something to her, watching her curled up fiercely in his seat, despite all his anger, he also felt undue gratitude. But he didn't want her to see it, or worse, that any harm would come to her there. He resented his irresponsibility in the park and did not want to repeat the same mistake.

“What if they take a picture of you and send it to your father? How am I supposed to explain to him why I took his daughter to a brothel?" He smoked through pursed lips. Y/N looked at him intensely.

"You will tell him the truth. That we went at your mother's request to get your hungover brother out." She said, shrugging her shoulders without changing her position an inch. Aemond sighed heavily and shook his head.

"I have no strength for you." He said as he closed the car door on her side and walked over to the driver's side, so she jumped back into the passenger seat, moving as far away from him as possible. He sat in his seat and started the engine, shooting her a murderous look. Y/N pursed her lips but said nothing.

They drove to the suburbs. Aemond stopped in front of the same building he'd picked up Aegon from last time. He sighed at the thought of having to go through the same thing again. He turned off the engine and looked at her.

"Stay in the car, I'll be right back." He said as he unbuckled his seatbelts and opened the door. Y/N wasn't going to do that though and left with him. Aemond looked at her like someone on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

"I'm going to hurt you today." He said in a low, dangerous voice. Y/N only laughed at his words.

"No, you are not."

He had no idea where she got so much confidence around him. He was angry with himself that her laughter made him laugh inside out. For some reason, her approach made their trip seem like a silly adventure. He just shook his head. He wanted it over with.

"Come. Stay close to me." He said in a tone that brooked no argument. This time Y/N obeyed him, rushing over to him right away, keeping close to him. They entered the building, the staircase illuminated only by tiny red lights. By the descent to the cellar, naked women were smoking cigarettes, looking at them curiously. Y/N blushed at the sight of them, pressing herself tighter against his arm.

They went down the stairs, soft music played in the background, they could hear people talking, sighs, laughs and moans. There was a lot of smoke in the room they entered, mostly from cigarettes. Y/N had never seen a place like this before in her life. Plenty of naked and half-naked women sat with men and other women on couches, floors, tables, some in plain view, some hidden by translucent curtains.

She didn't know where her eyes should go. Her gaze wandered from one group of people to another. Women knelt in front of men with their pants down, others rode them, others injected them with a small syringe. Some people just had sex, in two, three or more people, others sat and talked, completely drunk. Y/N felt Aemond grab and squeeze her hand. He must have seen the shock and uncertainty on her face.

"Do you want to leave?" He asked quietly.

"No. I can handle this." She responded, feeling her heart pounding hard, and squeezed his hand tighter. She felt a whole range of emotions. Fear, excitement, curiosity and disgust at the same time. It seemed to her as if all these people were in some kind of trance.

Suddenly, among all these people, Y/N spotted Aegon sleeping between two naked women. She looked away, seeing that he was also naked. "He’s over there, on the bed against the wall." She said to Aemond without looking that way. Aemond turned his gaze there and Y/N felt his whole body tense. She knew he was furious.

"Wait for me here." He spoke softly through clenched teeth and walked towards his brother. Y/N obeyed him. She saw that they had already caught the attention of some of the people in the room. The men who were playing with other women were looking at her in a way that made her very uncomfortable. She felt as if she herself was naked. She glanced out of the corner of her eye at what Aegon was doing.

She saw that somehow Aemond had put pants on him. Aegon, however, seemed so drunk that he didn't even know what was happening to him. She saw him mumbling something to his younger brother, staggering and falling as Aemond tried to pick him up. It was a pitiful sight, and she wasn't surprised that Aemond hated doing it.

Aemond swung his arm around his neck, grabbing his waist with his other hand, and lifted him up. Y/N moved towards them, seeing that Aegon's legs were like rubber and he couldn't even take a step. Aemond gave her a stern look, but like him, she threw his arm over her neck and hugged him. He smelled terrible of alcohol and sweat, but she tried not to think about it.

Aemond ordered them to head for the stairs. She could see that he was furious and ashamed. But she didn't want to leave him alone. She didn't pay much attention to the couples sticking to each other's sides now, but she found this place to freeze her blood in some way. Aegon's babble snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Ah, who is it? Your girlfriend?" Aegon asked, his expression amused, his remark clearly arousing him. "You took her to a brothel and didn't fuck her?" He snorted, leaning his face closer to hers. She felt his drunken breath against her cheek. “My brother likes to pretend to be tough, but he really doesn't know how to make a woman happy. If you ever want to know…”

"Shut your mouth or I'll leave you here, you fucking bastard." Aemond shot suddenly, his eye dark with rage. Y/N swallowed hard, his brother's remark sending a shiver of embarrassment down her spine.

"See? He can only scare. But deep down, he’s a soft cunt." He laughed, and Aemond suddenly released him and shoved Aegon down the stairs in front of them. Y/N jumped, mouth opening in surprise and horror.

"Then crawl up those stairs yourself, fucking punk." He fired and kicked him in the stomach. Y/N grabbed him quickly, pulling him away. Aegon just cringed and coughed.

"Stop! It's no use, he's completely drunk." She said quickly, terrified of where this was all headed.

"When he's sober, he's the same. Fucking peace of shit. I should spit in your face." He said furiously, but Y/N squeezed his arm pleadingly. He looked at her, fury in his eyes. "You wanted to accompany me, now you have what you wanted. Enjoy it." He said, his voice dark and low, Y/N shivered and swallowed. She thought that he was on the verge and that she must be a sanctuary for him to keep him from going mad.

“Let's pick him up and carry him to the car. Not for him, but for your mother." She said softly, looking pleadingly at him. His jaw was clenched. He stared at her without a word, and his brother only moaned softly under their feet.

"No. I don’t care. Let him handle himself." He said stepping over him and heading up the stairs. "Let's go." He said in a voice that brooked no argument, but Y/N stood still. As if she hadn't heard him at all, she leaned over his brother and slung his arm around her neck again. Aemond had never looked at her with such fury before.

"Wake up, Aegon. Try to get up." She spoke to him gently. Aegon groaned, but made an attempt to get up. He managed to kneel down and slowly got up, resting his other hand against the wall. "A step up." She said calmly, and he tried to lift his foot and nearly fell over again. When he regained his balance, he slowly began to climb the stairs with her help, without any unnecessary comments. A large limo slowly formed on his cheek from the collision of his face with the stairs.

Aemond stared down at the scene with his lips pressed together. He finally came down when they were halfway up and helped them to the top. After a few minutes, they managed to get him into the back of his car. Aemond slammed the door shut, Y/N stepped closer to him, but he walked past her.

"Don't be angry with me." She spoke quickly to him, but he got into the car from the driver's side and slammed the door behind him. Y/N felt a pang in her heart, but she climbed into the car and silently buckled her seatbelt. Aemond started the engine and they drove through the city wordlessly. Once in a while, Aegon groaned from behind, tossing from side to side, falling into short dozes every time.

Y/N glanced at Aemond from time to time, but he was staring through himself. His face was stone. She knew what she had done made him furious beyond measure. But she knew that if they left Aegon there, the situation would be even more hopeless. She didn't want him to take it as a rejection, but she knew he resented her for not taking his side at the time.

"You're like my mother." He fired suddenly through clenched teeth, disapproval and revulsion in his voice. Her lips trembled and she felt tears welling up in her eyes.

"I’m sorry." It was all she could choke out. She stared at him for a moment, then turned her face to the window, clasping her hands in her lap. Fifteen minutes later they reached the outskirts of the other, much more prosperous part of the city.

It was already night, so Y/N couldn't see much. She was aware that they had entered a wealthy neighborhood full of huge houses. Aemond stopped in front of one, turned off the engine, and wordlessly unbuckled his seatbelt as he got out of the car. Y/N got off too.

"Get out." Aemond said impatiently to his brother, but he was on the edge of sleep and waking again, babbling to himself. Aemond pulled his arm in one swift motion, Y/N had to catch him to keep him from falling to the ground like a log. Aemond glared at her, but Y/N didn't care anymore. 

They led Aegon to the door, and Aemond rang the bell. After a while, they heard the sound of a lock opening, and his mother appeared in the doorway, already in a nightgown and bathrobe. When she saw Y/N, her eyes widened with surprise and embarrassment at the situation.

"Y/N, what are you doing here? Come in." She said, moving away. Aemond and Y/N went to put Aegon on his bed in his room, but he vomited on the floor as soon as he stepped through the door.

"Fantastic." Aemond said coldly, Y/N only swallowed silently. Their mother just waved her hand, trying to smile, though her eyes expressed desperation.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it later."

They took Aegon to his room and laid him on the bed. His mother wiped his face, which was stained all over with his vomit. Aemond looked away, he couldn't look at it.

"Will you stay overnight at our house? It's already so late. We could have breakfast and lunch together tomorrow." Their mother said, rising, a note of hope in her tone. It disappeared as soon as Aemond laughed.

"I take your eldest son out of the brothel at least once a week, and you want me to have a nice dinner with him tomorrow?" He asked amused, but his face was tense, his gaze cold. Y/N had never seen him like this before, she looked at him with pain and horror. His mother flinched at his words and looked down in embarrassment.

"We haven't eaten together in years." She said softly. Aemond looked away, enraged. He shook his head, stared at the point beneath his feet.

"I will never go for him again. Never. It was the last time. Understand?" He asked, looking at her with eyes full of regret. "I know you often forget this, but I am your son too."

_____

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[meanwhileinstasiville]

I'm going to lean all the way into the Dunn ranch, the most traumatic period of my life

And see what's really going on (because they put up a horse paddock up front, it seems)

Because what I complain about has *increased exponentially by the day* and only a couple days in.

A synagogue family sans the rabbi husband up on clark; because shop n kart and the attendant businesses of that block, tell a theoretical story of unsavory things out at the ranch and deep in the past. (Backed by takelma the village, bell up front, pizza on the other side of slaughter's office; a well of human suffering called shop n kart where the foreman who was named Adrian back then, desperately wants to own the place)

We've got gang members walking out of my blind spot at intervals gank murder style, as perhaps what happened to Grubbs; because no one talks about defensive wounds. We've got 112268 stalker grinning like an idiot after I threatened to kill him *a second time* for his stalking endeavors at the southtown block intersection. Ambulance was waiting by expecting a violent event because company town.

There's the guy who was supposed to look like me waiting in ambush down below minute market on the way up to a food pantry. A pantry where a latina attitude style white (retirement age, outlived usefulness) woman could be found *tossing food from the pantry into her van*. And he seemed to have been hiding somewhere off to the hidden springs brush side (since murderers seldom change mo; why Jessica Fletcher concerned the Italians ;)

There's yellow everywhere, calling attention to itself, we've got coopers, we've got staged gang activity waiting for the library to open so many minutes ago.

CLEARLY, this is worth a lot of money to someone. An unsolvable murder ran about 200k back in the day. Mexicans, it was said, would do it for 10k or less. *More yellow*

Guess the synagogues are mad at me, sitting here minding my own business in front of illahe house. Thought you guys were pacifists. You know the Hill family was *Greek* right? And that they were in bed with the army at fort Klamath. And that, they all traveled with a US army entourage *down here from the Dalles*. After surveyors mapped the donation claims the Hill sisters would *sight unseen as yet* lay claim to?

(They were building a fortress, or trying, and at odds with "I married that man who had that land my father wanted" Patrick Dunn who was on friendly terms with all the natives)

Natives they later exterminated. We haven't gotten to the part where they were feeding and slaying homeless people out there, running a brothel out of the ranch house, becoming a "one stop shop" for shadowy policy making regional AND national. Both with and without KKK auspices. *More yellow*

(Go ahead, instigate a murder synagogues)

You know, Grubbs was "European mutt. Oh! And I am one quarter Italian" as he had said; didn't see a lot of Italian hanging out with him but *I did see a lot of Jews and semi Jews*.

Helman killed sisson back then, final answer. Convening a court martial on behalf of pioneer stock they didn't know, against one of their own, and for a murder a community would never admit to backing *though it did*, wasn't going to happen. Acting in the best interest of his friends up at the fort against what amounted to foreign interest from France.

(And he was whoring out his wife)

Since her house burned not long after she didn't go with helman (yeah, the murderer) after the fact. People can pretend this is revelatory, but really frontier boilerplate back then.

(Why would grandpa want to destroy his own family...hmmm. A branch related to Robert E. Lee and in bed with the army does *all* that)

And that's not the half of what's going on out there. As near as cartel on behalf of scraping together whiteness can get, this Janneke vs jennafae as a lookalike behind a coffee counter when it comes to me.

(As with ranch operations of old, it's *really easy* to discourage people when they get a rock with their name on it for not stopping whatever the objectionable is; that's shop n kart to Ashland now as a dialed down and washed out version of what had gone on)

(The Dunn's were on good terms with the Colombians and the Mexicans, making the slave caste they were turned into sort of ironic)

I would be quick to point out the Dunn house up on Clark had *all the trees cut down and mulched* in short order *within days* of me pointing out it had belonged to the family. By Mexican landscapers. With a latin king colored car sitting out front. An snk employees living there all the while. So I'll reiterate that *killing is easier*than continuous beating around the bush.

(Seeing how far this goes if so many days of leaning into the ranch has added up to this)

Yellow is a color.

Edit: Did I not say what the legacy was of where I grew up? "An encounter is a stand alone argument" only if it is backed up by murder. "Oh yeah? A shirt." Only if it's backed up by murder. Gang stalking? A car at an intersection conoting a drive by shooting driven by a misguided idiot? Only if it's backed up by murder.

[pastelcomputingprocess]

Hmmm but even the crimes described here explain what I think is a big difference, Jin Guangyao's crimes harm many other people who are also victims / did not participate in violence. It's impossible to mention his murder of his father (deserved) without mentioning that he also killed all those sex workers he hired to do the murder. Burning down the brothel similarity killed many people not involved in his suffering. Not to mention the deaths/destruction of the clans he blamed for his own murder of his son?

While I'm not saying WWX's crimes are not not horrific, they also take place in a context of war, against enemy combatants, and don't generally force/perpetuate harm against unwitting or other victims. WWX takes revenge directly, and takes the consequences directly too.

Listen I think they're both fascinating characters, but if you think it's unfair that people think JGY is less "good" than WWX, I think there's a fairly justifiable in canon reasons for that.

i think it is extremely weird that parts of this fandom have just definitively decided that the principle antagonist is an irredeemably evil monster because he has his minion burn down a brothel (where said antagonist was born and abused and watched his mother suffer and die) with people still inside it, then hires a bunch of sex workers to fuck his rapist dad (who raped so many women that he lost track of who his victims were, and ended up approving of a marriage between said antagonist and his own half-sister as a result) to death

when the protagonist’s chosen means of killing the people who razed the only home he’s ever known and murdered his foster parents involves 1) choking a woman to death by forcing a table leg down her throat, 2) forcing that dead woman to bite off a man’s genitals, and 3) forcing that man to eat his own legs. this plus the protagonist’s multiple day-long murder-torture bender where he kills and tortures a bunch of other wen sect disciples in front of each other, and owns doing this because it was fun and would have been too boring to kill then quickly. like jiang cheng and lan wangji find wwx by following the trail of bodies he leaves in his wake ok, that’s pretty awful

if wei wuxian can do these things and and still be considered good, then that only makes it harder for me to understand why jin guangyao is denied goodness

fun fact: when i describe both of these characters to people who are totally canon-blind and know nothing about mdzs, cql, or any of the other adaptations, the initial response from most people isn’t “hmmm but what was the protagonist’s interiority while he was making that woman’s corpse eat that man’s junk? was he very sad about it? that will surely tell me whether his corpse desecration and autocannibalism is morally defensible or not.” most of the time what they say is “ray what the fuck are you reading, both of those guys sound like evil people, i don’t care what their motivations are! also get help”

it just seems weird!! that certain corners of this fandom have decided that goodness is not only a quality that wwx intrinsically possesses (something i don’t necessarily disagree with fwiw), but that he gets to be defined by this goodness above all else. wwx gets situated at the centre of all subsequent discourse as the moral lighthouse of the whole novel—even though he has done objectively heinous shit entirely to satisfy his own desire for vengeance. doing all of those things does not detract from his fundamental goodness, in their estimation. or if it does, it doesn’t detract enough to significantly impact his role for them as the goodness barometer in the novel.

and that’s fine with me actually! if this is where the bar for what it means to be good in this novel is set, then it should logically follow that jin guangyao’s heinous actions can similarly be ‘offset’ by paying the appropriate ‘goodness tax’ through his other canon actions (e.g., loving and remaining filial to his mother, saving and protecting lan xichen, saving nie mingjue, funding the rebuilding of the cloud recesses, caring for his orphaned nephew, etc). he has done yuckydisgusting things, yes, but so has wwx! and as we all know, wwx is not evil! so jgy isn’t evil either!

…but this isn’t what happens in these conversations, because jgy seems to begin all fandom discourse at a goodness deficit that is depressingly reflective of the goodness deficit he experiences in the novel post-canon. (or, honestly, at the beginning of his life as meng yao.) and unlike wwx whose character gets to be defined principally by his goodness in spite of his genuinely horrendous acts of violence, jin guangyao’s whole character becomes defined by his horrendous acts of violence in spite of his goodness, even though the text demonstrates clearly that their capacity for both good and evil is evenly matched.

tl;dr it would be nice if the goodness goalposts would stop moving around so much in these discussions. maybe we should just get rid of them entirely.

[star-girl69]

We Do Not Wilt - Chapter Five - We Do Not Sway

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!FemOC

warnings: mentions of child loss, death, funeral, slight suicidal ideation, mentions of alcohol, swearing, tell me if i missed anything!

—-

Driftmark was beautiful. Something about the waves beating the shore, the sand, the sun shining bright, it lit something in her heart. May just wished she had come under better circumstances.

She didn’t know Lady Laena terribly well, but she was kind. She loved her children, and was a good wife to her husband, Ser Harwin.

Although he did not return the kindness.

Everyone knew Ser Harwin was unfaithful. Ever since the rumors of him taking Rhaenyra’s maidenhead at the brothel, then dancing with her obscenely at her own wedding, everyone had known. When Rhaenyra’s children were born with pale skin and dark hair, rumors could not be put to rest.

May and Alicent found it dishonorable. Where was her duty? Her respect? May found Rhaenyra to be a nice woman, but she trampled duty and honor under her foot. She was a princess. She was not like May and Alicent. She did not have to listen to her father, she could have affairs. They would always resent her for that, try as they might to not.

May had found love in Daemon, and she couldn’t imagine her life without him, but she simply wished it was her choice to marry him.

Laena’s uncle, who’s name May struggled to remember, continued in High Valyrian. May knew that if she asked Daemon, he would translate for her, but she felt as if she would be invading upon something. Daemon had tried to teach her High Valyrian, but May was horrible at it. And in the early days of their marriage, Daemon decided their time was better spent… in their chambers. She was all too happy to comply, of course, already deeply in love with her handsome husband.

Ser Harwin started laughing.

May almost gasped in shock, turning her head to look at him. It was not a loud, boisterous laugh, but noticeable. Everyone stared at him for a moment. May shot a look to the Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys. To have someone laugh at their daughters funeral, her own husband none-the-less, it was just salt in their wounds.

They pulled the ropes, slowly pushing the heavy coffin into the sea. It fell in with a splash, sinking to the bottom. She was at rest, and May felt jealousy sink into her veins.

—-

The breeze from the sea was quite cold, May noticed. She wrapped her shawl around herself, hand resting on the swell of her stomach.

There was no baby in there.

May let her hands fall, suddenly disgusted with herself. Daemon walked over, carrying two chalices.

“Wine, my darling,” He whispered, and May looked up at him. He brought it to her lips, and May felt the sweetness sink down her throat. It was slightly cool, and May felt it sit in her stomach. “Do you want to leave?” He asked, setting the chalices down and putting his hand on May’s face. She leaned into it, sighing. “Do you want to talk to your sister? See the children, maybe? You always like that,” May shook her head.

“Want you,” She whispered, and Daemon brought her head to rest on her chest, looping his other arm against her waist, the other still on her face.

“Will you two stop fucking in the middle of everyone?” May ignored her sister.

“She’s tired, Alicent. You know what has happened.” Daemon sighed, and May could feel the arm around her waist tighten.

“Lord Larys has been staring at me.” She continued, and May opened an eye to look at her sister. Silently saying, Well, dear sister, you did accidentally tell him to kill his own father.

“Oh, you were there. You know I did not mean for it to happen.” May was there. And Alicent did not explicitly say for him to murder anyone, he must have sensed something behind her words. Harrenhal still burned. And Lyonel Strong was dead.

“I know,” May sighed. “But what is done is done. Mourn, but do not regret. See how happy this is, sister.”

It was true. This was happy. Their father was back, restored as Hand of the King. Everything was working to their favor, everything happening as it should.

Of course, Daemon had no idea what they were talking about, so May was able to comfort Alicent without drawing too much suspicion. Regardless, even if May had murdered someone with her bare hands, Daemon would not turn her in. He would help her cover it up, even. Alicent sighed and nodded.

“You are right, I suppose.”

“I know.”

“Now, go. Two lords have already asked after you and the Prince. At least go pay your respect to Laena’s twins.” May nodded, disentangling herself from Daemon.

They made it through the crowd, stopping before Rhaena and Baela. May got on her knees in front of them, the empty weight in her stomach making difficult. She grabbed their hands in her own.

“Hi, Aunt May,” Baela said. May always insisted the children just call her Aunt May. Especially when they were younger, all the titles were confusing for them.

“Hi, sweetlings. How are you doing?” May asked, titling her head a bit with a kind smile. Both girls just nodded in response to her question. May hadn’t expected them to respond. “You know, I lost my mother when I was a little younger than you two.” Both girls perked up at this. “Do you know what helped? My sister, Queen Alicent. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but you two are sisters, right?” This brought forth a smile from both girls, Rhaena rolling her eyes playfully. “Sisters always make it better.” May whispered, leaning up to press a kiss on each of their cheeks. When she let go of their hands, they looked toward each other, and let their hands intertwine.

Daemon came up behind her, setting his hands under shoulders to lift her to her feet. May smiled at the sweet gesture, turning around to press a kiss to his cheek.

—-

May came to stand next to Alicent, whispering about everything and nothing. Daemon stood beside her, seemingly bored, but something about the chill sea air remade May. She seemed a little happier, and wanted to spend time with her sister, be in the presence of her husband.

She could see See Criston glaring at him from behind Alicent, and May was sure Alicent could see Daemon glaring back from behind her, but they both ignored their protector’s dislike for each other.

Everyone bowed as Viserys stood, walking by with his cane.

“I’m going to bed, Aemma.” May and Alicent stared at him. He continued to walk.

“Shall I see after Queen Alicent, Your Grace?” Ser Harrold asked, and the King hesitated. He looked back up at Alicent. May fussed through fabric to grab Alicent’s hand.

“No, Ser Harrold,” Viserys said, continuing his slow walk.

“You have the night’s watch, Ser Criston.” Alicent bit her lip and stared off, before squeezing her sisters hand and walking away.

May watched her back.

—-

The winds grew fiercer, the night darker. May quite liked the feeling of a breeze hitting her face, but Daemon urged her inside. It was cold, he said, and he was tired. She let him guide her inside.

Later, they both laid in their bed. It was just as lavish as their rooms at King’s Landing, but simply different. May could not find sleep. She pulled Daemon’s arm around her waist tighter, willing his presence to lull her into sleep.

Sleep came, but was interrupted.

—-