#heir to love and lies spoilers

[gojonanami]

[ last updated: 10/25/2024 ]

‧ ˚. PROFESSOR GETO SERIES ↳ Professor Suguru Geto is a renown ethics professor, and you're a straight A student whose GPA he's trying to ruin. You're more intent on making him see your brilliance -- but you get more than you bargained for, when the two of you learn about what you owe to each other.

‧ ˚. PROFESSOR GOJO SERIES↳ Professor Satoru Gojo had never failed at anything -- until his latest research project. That's why he had found himself at a weeklong conference, where he discovers the perfect distraction -- you. And he can't help but be drawn to you - even after he finds out that you're the one person he's trying to avoid most

‧ ˚. SATORU GOJO

seeing you tonight, its a bad idea right? | smut, fluff ↳ seeing your ex is always a bad idea, except when its satoru gojo.

bigger than the whole sky | angst, fluff, manga spoilers ↳ before his fight, you and satoru have an honest conversation about the future.

dessert before dinner | smut, fluff ↳ satoru can't wait to have you until you get back from the sister school event, so he plies you with sweet words until you agree to have dessert before dinner.

all's fair (in love and mergers) | long fic, smut, fluff, bffs to enemies to lovers ↳ you're not sure what's worse -- being an arranged marriage or being an arranged marriage with the person who used to be your best friend.

three's a crowd (ft. suguru geto) | long fic, au, smut, fluff ↳ professors satoru gojo and suguru geto rarely wanted the same thing at the same time -- that was until you.

bloodsucker | smut, dark ↳ you had avoided your ex for so long, only to run into him at a halloween party, and he's the same as ever but has his teeth always been that sharp?

got you | smut, dark ↳ satoru finally found you -- and he's not going to let you go this time.

is it over now | angst, fluff, smut ↳ suguru thinks the only way you'll leave him is if he lies to you about cheating on him - and it is. but turns out, you're not so easy to leave - for him and his best friend (ft. satoru gojo). "if you want, i can come inside?" | fluff, crack, domestic ↳ nobara spots gojo with a sorcerer she's never seen before and of course hijinks ensue (aka hearing gojo's english va (kaiji tang) say the above line in apothecary diaries and i lost my mind).

i wanna show you off | sugar daddy au, smut, fluff, slight angst ↳ when you accompany your friends to a bar rich men and women frequent, you catch the eye of a certain white-haired rich man, who is more than willing to spoil you

tastes sweeter on your lips | fluff ↳ on a rare day off, you decide to take care of the strongest sorcerer - with something very sweet.

the doctor is in | smut, fluff, au ↳ when you go to your annual check-up, you didn't think you'd be crushing on your doctor - or that he's conduct such an in-depth examination.

twenty-nine | fluff, angst, crack ↳ it's gojo's birthday, and he can't help but reflect on what birthdays have meant to him over the years, especially the year you decide you don't really want to do anything for his birthday (but it turns out you do).

sit in my lap | fluff, crack, domesticity ↳ you and satoru take your daughter to see santa at the mall, and satoru proves that he's just as much of a match for his daughter, as he is for you.

just a little longer | fluff, angst ↳ after geto defects, you find yourself on a roof of a building wondering where things went wrong - and you're not the only one.

sweet nothing | fluff, angst ↳ satoru always comes running home to your sweet nothings -- except this time.

lower your guard | fluff, smut, au, longfic ↳ after the gojo family receives threats to their lives, you're hired to protect the heir to the company, satoru gojo - you just didn't realize how charming the rich heir would be - and just how hard it would be to resist his advances. don't want any other shade of blue but you | fluff, smut, fake dating, longfic ↳ you can't help but say yes when your longtime crush asks you to be his fake girlfriend for a year to get the gojo clan to stop arranging marriage proposals for him. but little did you know, he would be doing both of you a favor. love means to say goodbye | multi-lives au, fluff, smut, angst, jjk manga spoilers ↳ "would we love each other in every life?" it's the question you asked satoru the night before his battle, and he replied that, of course you would. but did that promise create a curse -- or were you both always cursed to begin with when it came to love? yakuza fiance (ft. suguru geto) | smut, yakuza au, fluff, threesome ↳ you had no patience for the yakuza lifestyle your grandfather had -- you wanted to live a normal life, but when it leaks that your grandfather is in talks to have you engaged to one of two yakuza heirs -- you realize you're in deeper than you thought -- especially when they both fall in love with you.

a house is not a home | canon au, fluff, suggestive ↳ you come home after a long day of work unable to find the person you call home anywhere — until you reach the bedroom (househusband gojo).

just wanna fuck with you, just to make up with you! | smut, modern au, fluff ↳ satoru gojo is the man everyone wants, except you - he pushed you away after you had your daughter, you divorced him. so what happens when he comes to pick up your daughter for his weekend, and he finds you ready for a date?

rumor has it that my best friend loves you (and i do too!) | smut, actor au, fluff ↳ rumors swirl about a love triangle between you and your two heart throb co-stars on the set of jujutsu kaisen. except in this case, you and your two co-stars are happily dating. but what happens when you get casted in a movie where they want you to have a PR relationship with your co-star? especially when your bfs find out who it is

break my soul in two (but you're right here) | angst, manga spoilers ↳ satoru showed no concern for himself -- so you had to, even if no one else would.

beat the heat | smut, fluff ↳ it’s a heatwave in tokyo and who better to spend it with than satoru, who has an interesting idea of how to pass the time — fucking the heat away.

feral for you | fluff, smut, angst ↳ satoru gojo rarely loses his cool. except when it comes to you. so when you get taken, he takes matters into his own hands to find out who did it and make them pay.

yours to keep | childhood friends au, fluff, eventual smut, angst ↳ satoru gojo fell in love with you from the moment he met you at eight years old. and when he sees you again, he knows — he has to make you his.

the honored one | smut, manga spoilers, canon-divergent au ↳ it's your duty as the wife of the clan head to help your husband get dressed -- even for battle. but that didn't mean he couldn't spend some time undressing you.

‧ ˚. SUGURU GETO

meant to be | smut, dark ↳ when Suguru defects, he asks you to come with him -- but he's not going to take no for an answer.

three's a crowd (ft. satoru gojo) | long fic, au, smut, fluff ↳ professors satoru gojo and suguru geto rarely wanted the same thing at the same time -- that was until you.

is it over now (ft. satoru gojo) | angst, fluff, smut ↳ suguru thinks the only way you'll leave him is if he lies to you about cheating on him - and it is. but turns out, you're not so easy to leave -- for him and his best friend

might hurt | fluff, crack ↳ suguru's popularity is truly a curse, especially when he gets hit on right in front of you. luckily, you both know how to handle those situations.

i just want to fuck all night | smut, fluff, sex pollen ↳ after swallowing a curse, geto finds his body in an uncontrollable state of arousal, and who better help him cure it than you?

would it be enough if i could never give you peace? | fluff, angst, smut ↳ suguru's birthday spent with you is like a dream -- the perfect day spent in bliss, but what happens when the dream has to come to an end?

yakuza fiance (ft. satoru gojo) | smut, yakuza au, fluff, threesome ↳ you had no patience for the yakuza lifestyle your grandfather had -- you wanted to live a normal life, but when it leaks that your grandfather is in talks to have you engaged to one of two yakuza heirs -- you realize you're in deeper than you thought -- especially when they both fall in love with you.

‧ ˚. KENTO NANAMI

no regrets | hurt/comfort, fluff, angst ↳ when nanami is injured from his fight with mahito, you're sent to pick him up. and both of your careful avoidance of your feelings for each other comes crumbling down.

armed and dangerous | smut ↳ nanami's arms were always so nice around your throat, but you never tried having his arm between your legs before, until.

good girls get backshots | smut ↳ nanami has always been a gentleman, but he finally decides to play rough and mark you up -- at your request.

five times nanami wanted to propose but didn't | angst, fluff, smut ↳ nanami wanted to propose to you so many times - but it was never the right time, and then, there was no time left.

best part of my day | fluff, domesticity ↳ on a bad day, you give nanami just what he needs, and remind him why you are truly the best part of his day.

all the time in the world | fluff, hurt/comfort ↳ after shibuya, nanami lets you tend to his burns and have an honest discussion about what happened there and what it means for your future. but i'm a fire (and i'll keep your brittle heart warm) | fluff, hurt/comfort, smut, au ↳ throughout your years of jujutsu tech, you take care of kento, whether its a wound from a curse or a simple cut his finger -- and when he returns he finds you still ready to take care of him -- even after shibuya.

‧ ˚. YUTA OKKOTSU

↳ coming soon :)

‧ ˚. CHOSO KAMO

it's a need | hurt/comfort, smut, fluff ↳ after you take an attack meant for him, choso can't seem to understand why -- so you show him just how important he is to you.

hey emo boy! | fluff, smut, au ↳ saw this boy at the mall last week. got the kind of look to make me freak. wanna fuck in the back of the hot topic?

best friend's brother is the one for me! | fluff, au, smut, bedsharing ↳ you've been asked whether you and yuji are together a million times - but the truth is his brother is more your type -- so what happens when you end up sharing a bed one night?

just one more bite! | fluff, modern au, smut, vampire au ↳ choso kamo is your coworker who seems to hate your guts - even though you're both always stuck working together, but the only reason he does is because he wants nothing more than to eat you up -- blood and all.

‧ ˚. RYOMEN SUKUNA

paint the town red | smut, dark, au ↳ you've always been a goody two shoes -- or so your friends say -- so what happens when you decide to do the first bad thing you've ever attempted and try summoning a demon -- and it actually works?

the girl next door | smut, age gap, modern au ↳ you had grown up next door to the itadoris, but you never had met their uncle. and for good reason, he had spent the majority of his life in and out of jail. but now he was finally out, and he only had one goal in mind -- getting you in his bed.

‧ ˚. YUJI ITADORI

don't want you like a best friend! | best friends to lovers, fluff, fwb, smut, au ↳ yuji itadori has been your best friend since you were kids, and when he offers you to teach you how to fuck, you don't expect him to be able to find his way into your heart too.

jealousy, jealousy | smut

which of the men whimper | smut

spooning the dilfs | fluff

jjk men and if they're good at singing | crack

all tied up | smut

househusband suguru

househusband nanami househusband gojo (1) (2) (3)

mindreader nanami

geto swallowing a aphrodisiac curse

gojo - maybe in another life

guitarist! suguru x opera singer! reader (1) (2) (3)

frat boy! suguru x nerd! reader (1) (2) (3)

curse! suguru (1) (2) (3) bringing suguru back to life

[fabled-fiction]

Temptations of the Wolf

Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

Summary: Being a Targaryen meant sacrifice. Being a Stark meant sacrifice. Both these houses know the service of duty well. But when war is amiss, and two leaders of these respective houses meet to discuss allegiance, feelings for one another bubble to the surface and get in the way. Oh how the winds of war turn would be lover on would be lover.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: MAYBE POSSIBLE SPOILER ISH FOR EP 1. Angst, Foribbiden-ish Love, Use of (Y/N), proof read only by author.

A/N: I AM A HOTD TV SHOW PERSON ONLY!!! I did research on wikis to try and write Cregan correctly, however I am but a simple man that writes fanfiction, so mischaracterization isn't totally unavoidable. ENJOY!

A dragon does not get cold.

A dragon does not feel the cold as they have fire brewing under their scales, penetrating not only their bones but also their soul. The soul of a dragon is a fiercely burning one, said to run so hot that their touch alone melts the thickest of ice.

(Y/N) Targaryen knew of this fire better than any dragon. Or that is what the people of King’s Landing had quickly grown to best know them by. Growing up within the tense house of Targaryen, especially during war times, justly called for you to have more than just a spine of a predator.

To survive amongst dragons, you must be able to breathe their fire.

Making every other tense occasion feel as though you were walking on air.

Perhaps there was another reason as to why you felt no fear as you flew North. A reason that bore the Stark symbol.

That is why, as Polarxes rode through the winter chill, with the wind daring to snip at your skin you felt calm. At peace almost, even as the great Wall came into view.

It was realized that in order to keep the throne that was meant to stay in the hands of your brother Aegon, relations had to be made. Families and Houses had bent the knee for King Visery’s heir not long ago, and it was soon made apparent that your family would have to make the same bend the knee again for Aegon. Just to make sure that loyalties lied with the correct Targaryen.

Whilst you particularly did not care for such politics, or politics in general, your mother had other plans. Seeing as you and Aemond stood as…the most intimidating of the family it was an easy decision to send the both of you out to ensure alliances were made and pacts bonded.

You knew that the decision to send you to the Wall was laced with more than just truce in mind. Your mother was a cunning woman, and recalled the times that whenever the Starks came to make your acquaintance you favored the nip of the cold family over the burning of the dragon pit. The touch of their ice, and the gaze of one particular wolf.

As your dragon landed, her talons digging in to break, you took a moment to yourself to feel the snowflakes rest on your warm cheeks and melt into the white of your roots. The cold felt nice on your skin that had grown used to the humidity of King’s Landing. To feel at ease in your skin, to have even the opportunity to cool off was an unknown blessing of this trip.

“I hope the ride here was not too tiresome for your dragon here, the winds can be quite hard in preparation for the change of season.”

Looking down at the boy, who looked no older than four and ten years of age, you smiled as you slid off your dragon with ease. She shook her head in response, her ivory scales offering her a sort of camouflage to the elements around her as she settled down. The heat of her breath alone melted whatever ice laid around her, the rest becoming swept up as her wings folded in. 

Whilst you looked at her with admiration, you could tell that this was the first dragon the boy had ever seen. It was a mix of awe and fear that flooded his eyes, which you did not doubt also kept him frozen still in fear of her eating him to remain warm.

“Do not worry about her, she is not the dragon that will eat you alive should you make one wrong move.”

A wolf does not get cold.

A wolf does feel the cold because the wolf knows how to bear the frigid winds. Their fur having grown to shift with the winds that come with winter. They stand strong against the chill of winter, and stand headfast at the front of the storm. 

The gaze of a wolf alone makes one question whether or not the storm bends to the wolf’s howl.

Cregan Stark knew that his house would come to be called upon soon enough. That is what comes with the winds of war. He just never felt bothered enough to actually busy himself with the calls of the storm.

But it became increasingly hard to ignore as a dragon landed at the gates of the Wall.

Especially when it was a dragon he recognized, that held a rider that had occupied his mind in the dark of the night as he stared into a fireplace. The lick of flames taunting him the same way a certain Targaryen had whenever in their presence.

He had begun to regret not knowing what exactly this storm of war would make him face.

The warmth of a Targaryen was hard to ignore, it made the men wish for the comfort of home as they were reminded of just how cold winter really was when left in their absence. A reaching hand hoping to grasp onto the hearth that was your soul. 

Even as he looked up toward the wall, the announcement of your presence was made when he felt sweat beghin to build on the back of his neck.

Turning towards you he noticed the sea of men that had parted to make a runway for you,almost as if they were presenting you to him. Or maybe it was the other way around as he noticed the way your predatory gaze ate up every inch of him.

He should have felt intimidated just by that alone.

You stood there before him, adorning only the one coat that seemed to mock the furs that he had adorned in order to retain even a fraction of the heat that you held onto. Your head was held high as you looked upon the Stark, giving him the smallest courtesy bow as your hand reached to shake his. He should not have been so eager to be in your presence upon the precipice of war.

Cregan Stark was no fool, he knew the reason for your visit. But still, appearances seemed to be becoming more and more important in this age.

“Lord Stark, I hope I am not intruding? There were some important business I’d like to discuss and well…dragons are faster than ravens.”

He offered you a curt smile as he stood to his full height, hoping to give himself an advantage on the conversation. Or at the very least to provide some distance to distract from the pit that had been lit a flame from your very speaking of his name.

“You’re not intruding in any way. Would you like to take this discussion somewhere more private, if the matter happens to be so important?”

You were not used to the Northern accent. The regality of the South had become your norm as you dealt with many affairs there, instead of bending to the will of the many Lord and Lady that wanted an audience with the great Targaryen rulers of the day. Thus you were used to their customs, clothing and accents.

Everything about the North always took you by surprise, and assaulted every sense that you had.

Cregan Stark was no different. If anything he made the divide even more stark as you set your gaze upon him.

He stood tall, and unbroken as he looked at you. The Wolf of the North was everything that had been said about him. Tall, broad, strong…handsome. His steeled eyes locked you in your place almost instantly. You weren’t sure if it was because you feared a single wrong move from you would provoke the beast or because you wanted to soak in every minute of his undivided attention. Never had you met someone with the same resolve as you, nor the same gaze.

You knew now why people were so intoxicated by you.

He always had that effect on you.

Taking his hand, stepping onto the lift you couldn’t help but be drawn to the cold that laid on his hands. The chill that ran up your arm from his touch alone made you want to keep a harsh grip on his gloved hand.

When the both of you were locked in, it was only then did your hands regretfully break apart by the jostle of the cables.

“I’m sure you know why I have made the trip all the way out here?” 

“Was it not to take in the view atop the wall?”

The chuckle that left your lips resonated throughout the cart, it made Cregan want to fill a book with quips that would draw similar sounds out of you. He smiled to himself as the ride came to a halt, and the two of you made the trip to a balcony overlooking the edge of the forsaken wall.

“ While that is a plus, I have come here as a courier from the Queen Mother. Whilst I believe you are busy with the responsibilities of defending the South from that of which come from those blasted woods, it would shock me to find you do not know of the developing situation within my family?”

His suspicions were confirmed. While there was no doubt you had come to discuss the usurping of the throne, it lifted some weight off his shoulder to know that you had been the one to broach the topic first. For some…unknown reason he felt hesitant to the idea of bringing up a topic that would only bring a scowl upon your face. Or any topic for that matter that would cause a crease to form between the bridge of your gaze.

But upon the question he found that you were calm and collected. As if you had not just brought up the topic of a deed that often led to disorder amongst the throne and council. Many of the men that served the wall had been sent here for just the discussion of mutiny alone.

Your confidence alone shook him, and confused him at the same time.

“I’m sure even the farthest reaches have heard of your brother taking his seat upon the Iron Throne. I'm confused however on what this has to do with me?”

Taking your gloves off, Cregan watched as you placed your hands on the edge of the ice that formed this pocket amongst the wall. Your shoulders dropped along with your head as you took in a deep breath. It was interesting to take in your mannerisms when it was just him instead of him and an audience. You behaved…well like a dragon. A foreboding presence that did not easily reveal their intentions, a ticking trap of anguish and fire. A continuous stream of steam left your nostrils as you took a moment to contemplate.

The dread that spilled from your exhale had Cregan convinced there was something more amiss this meeting of allegiance. 

“I truly do not care of the affairs of my brother, he has rarely acted on his own accord. Thus why I am here, to gather support of others that will make sure whatever whims he does hold are defended from those that aim to make all of this harder than it has to be.”

Looking at the palm of your hand that had been grasping the ice with a fury, you noticed that it had only now just started to turn pink. Whereas you were sure if anyone else had dared to meet flesh with ice, it would be purple and dead by now. It was a calming reassurance to feel the calming touch of ice. When looking into Cregan eyes, you felt a similar calm as his brows furrowed into a look that resembled something of sympathy.

He understood more than anyone the weight of duty.

“If I may ask, it seems as if you do not have much desire in the battles that are brewing? So why come here to make a play with a house that is known to keep their oaths?”

Of course he knew the weight of duty. The Stark house was known to be one of the most noble houses when it came to keeping a promise. They had bent the knee for your half sister years ago, so why must you have come out all this way to try and turn their tides? You truly did not want to come out all this way, only making the trip at the request of your mother who had become a thorn in your side ever since you made your indifference to the throne known.

You knew coming out this way would not sway the Stark, but instead sway you. 

“Who wishes for war? Only mad men desire a battle that would take their life,” Taking a moment to compose yourself, you straightened your back.

“Which is exactly why I come in hopes that you share the same sentiment.”

Your eyes seemed to hold all the emotions of the seven kingdoms. Cregan took a moment to compose himself, and remind himself that he was the Warden of the North. He does not need to consult himself on ways to keep the blaze of your heart lit. He had a job, just as you had yours.

Which is why he felt himself faltering.

“A Targaryen that does not wish of war? You are a rarity amongst your family (Y/N).”

Your name should have felt foreign to say. It was not dressed with honorifics, and he meant it. The lack of title that came before your name was with the purpose of bringing this conversation down to a more personal level. 

He watched as you tensed with him saying your name. But he knew it was not in offense, he could never offend you. It was in realization of the fragility of this conversation.

His informality was sealed when he rested his hand on the small of your back. The both of you just took in the moment to look beyond the wall. Cregan knew that this simple action could warrant reaction from you, it would be justified for you to take his hand and his tongue for even speaking to you in such a casual way.

Instead you melted into his touch, turning to face him.

He took this as an invitation to invade your space once more, taking a step forward to move a piece of hair that threatened to obscure his view of you.

“You flatter me, Lord Stark. But a compliment such as that will only do so much to sway me. I was sent here for a reason.”

His title wavered on your tongue as you spoke to him. This just drew more a response from him as he did not move, humming almost in agreeance as his hand found its place on your cheek. For a moment he felt jealous of the leather that dressed his palm, for it had the honor of holding you truely.

“Hmm yes, you were sent here for a reason. But could there not have been another? One that you hold instead, that trumps the duty you feel to your house?”

He was always good at reading you.

Perhaps you should have felt unease in coming here, to think it would just be a simple trip to the Wall that would just lead you to return home with nothing but a word that the Starks were not aligned with your house.

You were blinded by the urge to see him, the want to make his acquaintance one more time before the realm tore itself apart. “Cregan…”

His name fell from your lips with a whisper, as if you were praying to the gods above to harden your resolve.

“Tell me the real reason you came here.”

He was incredibly close now, his presence shadowing over yours. He covered you in a shroud of snow, his touch almost paralyzing you as you remained locked in a fight of wills.

Who would win? The fearsome dragon or the unbending wolf?

“To speak with you. There are…alliances that need to be made in order to keep my family from tearing itself and the world apart.”

This earned a frown from him as he leaned even closer to you. He assaulted every sense you had now. His eyes burned into yours, rivaling your gaze as his scent came over you. There was a reason you favored the smell of leather and musk. It reminded you of him.

“Could you just this once make a decision that was not dictated by your family, but rather made in lieu of what you wanted?”

Your hand reached up to hold his wrist of the hand that grounded you. Your touch was searing, Cregan knew that had you touched his skin he was sure there would be a burn where you had touched him. And he would wear it with honor.

He wondered if a kiss from you would be just as searing. If steam would rise from the both of your lips as you became one.

The fan of your breath over his cheeks threatened the very resolve he was known for.

This very act alone could be considered taking a side. The both of you would seal your fate if you fell blindly into your passions right at this second. A thought crossed the wolf’s mind, how truly awful would it have been to give in, even for just a moment?

Your hand on his cheek, a mirror of his own action, made him clasp his eyes shut as a shaky breath escaped his own trembling lips. 

He looked beautiful, in this very moment, you thought.

The both of you were so close, the desire of one thing burning in your mind as you stared at him.

You were never one for politics, but could that argument alone be excuse enough to betray the whims of your family for a single kiss from a man that would stand against them?

You wished to lite his lips ablaze with the passion of your touch.

He wished to swallow the fire that burned in your throat.

A dragon does not feel the cold.

A wolf does not feel the cold.

But right in this very moment they both wished the winds would freeze them in place, if not to hold onto the memory for just a moment longer.

“Cregan..”

“(Y/N)..”

The side of his nose seemed to fit perfectly against yours as he leaned in. Your hand rested up against the nape of his neck perfectly, anchoring both of you in this stance. 

Just as the both of you felt a graze of the other, there was the annoyance of another made present.

The squealing of the lift cables broke the silence, and thus breaking the tender moment of the two of you.

It wasn't until they came to a halt did you finally step back, and Cregan was left to imagine the moment for only a second before opening his eyes to the reality of the situation.

“Lord Stark, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon of house Velaryon has arrived to speak with you.”

With a small huff of a laugh, you straightened your cloak and looked out over the wall once more. 

This would probably be the last time you saw winter…the snow…and him.

Feeling his hand grip your chin, making you face him you could only chuckle as you held his face again. Only this time with longing and remorse. You were already mourning any possibility you had with him, and he knew it too as he looked down at you.

“I wish it were that easy…”

Leaning forward, you played with fire one last time as your lips came to rest on the corner of his. It was a quick moment, only giving yourself enough of it for the small gesture. You knew if you lingered for even a moment the Northerner would take it upon himself to seize whatever he could. And then you truely would be gone to the whims of a lovely passion.

Pulling away, you watched as he held where you had kissed him, before breaking away from your eye as you made your way to the lift to leave him.

But when his hand found your wrist, you could feel the fire brimming in your throat.

“Just…think about what I said…before its too late.”

Looking over your shoulder, you couldn't help but take the moment to study his face. Commit it to memory. Perhaps that is truly what you came here for. Not some silly test of allegiance, for you already had that answer before you even mounted your dragon.

No…it was to take in one last memory of the cold.

[cjrae]

Rank And Responsibility. Or: The Hairpin Scene from Jinshi's POV.

Be warned now about the consequences of choosing to do an English Lit degree - you end up doing lit crit for fun. With that in mind, let's break down the hairpin scene at the end of Covert Operations (Episode 5). Mild spoilers for Jinshi's arc are below.

While this moment does kick off the romantic subplot, with all the implications that giving Maomao the hairpin out of his own hair has, I would argue that this is not the moment Jinshi realizes he's in love with Maomao. Instead, from his point of view, this scene demonstrates how Jinshi handles failure.

Holding Power In An Open Palm

This is still very early in the story. Our first hint to Jinshi's true rank does come in this scene, but for now we know him as the manager of the Rear Palace. For the three thousand people who live and work there, for all intents and purposes, Jinshi is the highest authority they will encounter. He literally has the power of life and death over them, either directly in the case of the servants and eunuchs, or in the case of the consorts, his word to the Emperor directly can serve the same purpose. We also see Jinshi use this power early on - he's not just there to keep order, but also to test the consorts' loyalties and virtue. We never see what happens to the lower-ranked consort who attempted to invite Jinshi back to her room, but at the very least that report ensures that her already small chance of the Emperor choosing her as a potential mother of the nation is utterly cut off - and if she doesn't bear children, she will be discarded.

We also know that Jinshi will not hesitate to order corporal punishment if he views it necessary - for example, when Maomao discovers that the toxic face powder is still being used by Consort Lihua's ladies in waiting, she mentions in the aftermath that the eunuch who failed to recover the powder was flogged, while the lady in waiting who hid the powder is put in solitary confinement. These are brutal punishments - and if we consider the historical inspirations, these are also very restrained consequences. For hiding an item that caused the death of the prince (unfortunately, the more valuable child) and has put the life of one of the Emperor's favored High Consorts in danger, Jinshi would be utterly within his rights to order executions. If ignorance is a sin, ignorance in the face of knowledge is a greater one.

Microcosm of Li

For all that Jinshi holds his power lightly, he also takes the responsibility that power bestows upon him quite seriously. It's worth noting that Jinshi takes over governing the Rear Palace shortly after Maomao's service contract is purchased. (Remember, Xiaolan talks about the "beautiful, new eunuch that's been posted to the central courtyard," which tells us that Jinshi has not been in the Rear Palace long enough to become a fixture - he's an object of speculation and admiration from episode 1).

In context it's clear that, with the birth of two Imperial children, his job is to ensure the survival of the Imperial line and investigate why children of the Emperor are dying consistently in one of the wealthiest and safest places in the entire empire. We're shown him running in between Lady Lihua and Lady Gyokuyou to ensure that their very sick children are being seen to properly, investigating what could be causing it, while also managing tensions as rumors about the Emperor's children being cursed begin to spread and outright accusations of sorcery are being thrown between consorts. While the audience might immediately scoff along with Maomao at the idea of one consort cursing another, if Maomao hadn't found the cause of death, those types of accusations followed by Lady Lihua's and Princess Lingli's inevitable deaths could have ended with Lady Gyokuyou's execution.

The Rear Palace is a reflection of the nation as a whole. No Imperial heirs plus the deaths of two High Consorts with various foreign and domestic political ties had the potential to thrust the entire nation into chaos. Jinshi's choices have very real consequences, so when Maomao discovers what the true cause of death is and sends her warning, Jinshi looks at Maomao and doesn't see a person. He sees a "perfect pawn." A tool, one with talents that have ensured that at least one Imperial child has survived and providing a rational explanation why these children have died so that it can be prevented from happening again - and a skill set that can be turned to preventing any more shenanigans in the Rear Palace that could threaten the empire's foundation.

And, as Gaoshun points out, in the beginning of the hairpin scene, she is a toy. Maomao amuses Jinshi up until this point.

For all that Jinshi is shown wielding power with a light hand and a responsible mindset, it literally doesn't occur to him that the people working in the rear palace have stories - some tragic - about how they came to be there. They are resources to be used as befits the Emperor's (and therefore the nation's) need.

Hidden Beauty

When Maomao turns around and Jinshi doesn't recognize her until she speaks, he's shocked. He thought he knew exactly who and what this girl was - ugly and unremarkable, except for her intellectual brilliance and the challenge in managing her by other means than empty compliments and smiles. He attempts to recover and assumes that she is enhancing her looks - and is shocked again when he realizes that the face Maomao has presented to him so far is a protective mask against attracting attention. In a world where beauty is both a currency and a tool that others covet, Jinshi doesn't understand why Maomao would deliberately devalue herself like that. So she tells him.

This is the moment Maomao becomes a person to Jinshi.

Not a toy, not a pawn. Someone who has been ripped from her home and her life illegally and sold off. It's in this moment that Jinshi is forced to confront the ugly side of the society he lives in, people who would rape Maomao out of pure convenience or just take a "borderline marketable" girl off the street in order to get extra drinking money.

Worse, Jinshi is complicit in Maomao's captivity. The Rear Palace has bought her contract - and as the manager of the Rear Palace, Jinshi is responsible for everything that happens within its' walls. The fact that Jinshi does not personally oversee service contracts is irrelevant. The buck stops with him. If the Matron of the Serving Women or whoever is below her is buying these contracts without checking their sources, that is Jinshi's fault because he has allowed a lax enough system to flourish. He has failed to govern this microcosm of the nation wisely, with thought for the welfare of the least powerful among his people. Worse, he has failed to even notice the problem - Maomao may say she's angry about having been kidnapped and sold, but she doesn't react in a way that indicates anger. Instead, she's resigned. Yes, what happened to her was wrong and she's angry about it, but there's literally nothing she or Jinshi can do.

Or Is There?

Jinshi offers Maomao two apologies, the first of which is our first hint to his true status. "I'm sorry we couldn't police them better." Maomao immediately blows off this apology - she points out that there's no way Jinshi should have known and has a very "all's well that ends well" attitude about her situation - her contract will be up eventually and in the meantime she's managed to land in a fulfilling role. Essentially Maomao is telling Jinshi that this apology is not his to make - he's overstepping his responsibility. And, if Jinshi were simply the manager of the Rear Palace, she would be right. It's his job to ensure that the Rear Palace is properly staffed, not to regulate that all contracts comply with the law.

Jinshi apologizes again. This time, he offers no other context. He doesn't accept Maomao's absolution of responsibility - because he knows (even if we, the audience, don't) otherwise. It can certainly be read as Jinshi refusing to accept easy absolution, and the rest of those witnessing the scene, apart from Gaoshun, certainly take it that way.

Instead, he takes the hair stick from his own hair and places it in Maomao's. Their entire relationship has just been upended; Maomao is a person who has been gravely wronged and it is Jinshi's responsibility to begin to make it right. Aside from the personal implications of giving her the hairpin (and the faint blush on his face makes it clear that he's aware of them), it is a form of restitution. There is an unspoken social contract Jinshi is offering that Maomao does not understand in the slightest. It never occurs to her that Jinshi would do something for her with no thought of what he would receive in return, because of the difference in their social ranks. But, from Jinshi's perspective, that social difference is the point. He has failed her and, as the person of higher rank, it is his responsibility to do what is within his power to begin to remedy the situation in front of him.

And, of course, in that moment he sees Maomao in a new light, the other meaning of gifting her his hairpin has fertile ground to take root in Jinshi's mind.

[nightunite]

The Menace Meets his Match

PER THE REQUEST OF OUR LOOOOOOOOVELY @beloveds-embrace WHO REQUESTED SIMON SUFFERING I introduce to you the Madame! A character who I wish to be one day tbh. Warning now, there are MAJOR Spoilers ahead for the entire AU, please read with caution!

"What the bloody hell is this?!" A newspaper lands on the table with a weighty thwap!, Simon following it with looming over the woman in the chair. She pauses, giving him a sidelong glance, before setting her teacup onto the saucer and gently closing her book. "I believe that is a newspaper, Marquess Riley. Do you need someone to read it for you, perhaps?" Simon glowers at her, slamming himself into the seat opposite her before aggressively poking the paper as though it offends him.

To the Madame's amusement, it probably does.

"I can read the damned thing! What I want to know is what this rubbish your idiotic little friend chose to print is, and why my name is attached to it." Ah, that section of the paper. She'd been hoping it would stick in his craw. Madame sets her book completely aside; if the Marquess wishes to play this game with her, she'll happily oblige. She makes eye contact with the shop staff, a truly lovely girl who comes up with the best seasonal blends, and gives her a nod before turning to face the man in front of her. "I take it you're referring to Phillip's latest pieces concerning our darling little town." Simon scoffs, "'Pieces', yeah. Pieces of shite is what they are." "How so? I fail to see anything he's printed that's incorrect." "You know what's incorrect!" He growls out, "You have Graves out here spreading gossip that I'm a lousy lay! Last I checked, you're the one who came to me about tending to your needs, you sneaky-" "Tea, your graces?" The girl holds up the teapot, quickly filling and refilling Simon and Madame's cups respectively, giving a stilted head nod that Madame returns before she retreats back behind the counter to safety. Simon exhales through his nose before moving his mask, a thin piece to account for the oppressive heat of the summer, and taking a sip as is, nothing added. Once he sets his cup down with a gentle clink, she decides it's time for the fun to truly begin. “Let’s face the facts: I spilled the secrets of our dalliance to Phillip and cut your ego down to the size of your cock, where I was left unimpressed and ultimately unsatisfied by both.” Madame cuts him off with a raised hand, taking a quick sip of her tea, “That’s not to say you were terrible. In the end, I got there all the same. I simply don’t understand the excitement with which these women speak about you. I can only guess it’s because your usual quarry has little to no experience beyond their fantasies and fiction.” She refuses to flinch when he slams his hand on the table, rattling the porcelain and making the eavesdropping girl squeak and duck into the back. It's been a long time since a man made her rethink her actions, and she'll be cold in the ground well before she does it again. Though he should tread more carefully, his silly little tantrum is only fun for so long... "That's all lies and you know it! Graves has never once printed a damn thing worth a pence! He only knows how to deal in gossip and the only reason he's still in business is because empty-headed aristocrats enjoy that schlock!" "Oh, is that so? I suppose then that our latest Baroness did not recently bear an heir to the Konig line?" Wetting the tip of her finger, an action Simon's eyes follow without his permission, she flips the paper back to the front page, carefully avoiding any ink transfer.

There on the front reads "An Heir is Born! Welcome, Baby Baron Benedikt!" in bold font, the following columns detailing the little boy's arrival with some mention of his parents. Notably how his deep blue eyes were an inheritance from his father's side while his ears were (thankfully, joked the mirthful Baron, holding his son in the crook of an arm with a finger tight in Benedikt's chubby grasp) entirely his mother's. Simon takes another sip of his tea in an effort to gather his thoughts, but she won't let him.

“Ah yes, such a sweet child, and my those eyes are quite stunning in person! Though that reminds me Marquess Riley, how is your dear friend Duke MacTavish these days? I heard tales of a vandal sneaking his way into the duchy recently. Busted up three rooms, they say. Though, that’s a rumor too, isn’t it? Can’t imagine who else would have done it, or why.” He freezes as her grin grows, teeth showing akin to a fox that's cornered a rabbit. It's clear that she's been waiting to catch him wrong-footed, and like a fool he stepped into her trap. No matter, he can grit his teeth and bear the brunt of this hellish conversation for Johnny's sake. Ah, the suffering of men. She takes in his suffering with a deep inhale. Truly the only thing she needed to complete her afternoon tea. Speaking of tea though, she supposes she's spent enough time and attention on this man. Now to send him retreating with his tail between his legs. “If you don't wish to speak on silly rumors or lackluster bedroom antics, perhaps you'll be more inclined towards discussing drinks. I've heard you're quite the collector of tea, so I must ask you, how are you finding the tea? It’s my own personal blend.” That, however, sends a chill down his spine. He sets the cup back down, tragically empty, while his mind moves on its own. It was no secret that the Madame was a large fan of tea, growing her own varieties amongst a wide array of exotic (and in some cases, fatal) plants in her personal garden, the one thing that was hers when she wed her late husband. Yet that changed when he rapidly grew ill, a fever setting in followed by intense soreness and inability to keep food down, the sickness leeching the life from his bones and rotting him by the day. A painful and slow death, he was scraped along into his grave by death, the official cause unknown. The coroner never found proof of foul play, but it was no surprise when the Madame stood taller the moment the first shovel's worth of dirt hit the closed casket. At that thought he stood, aware of the danger of the man-eater across from him. A tactical retreat was in order. "I can see you and Graves share much in common. Hopefully this doesn't come back to bite you, Madame." With a mocking bow he moves towards the exit, content to make his escape into the warm afternoon air. Yet just as he reaches the door, her voice wraps around his ears, a far cry from the noises she made that night weeks ago. “Oh, Marquess Riley?” She calls, Simon turning to glare back at her smug expression, her hand fan gently cooling her face, the embroidered silk bearing a nightshade flower in the center. “You’re dismissed.” It takes everything in him not to snap back like a child. His guts boil and clench inside him as he snarls beneath his mask, teeth bared as he stalks out of the small tea shop, shoulders hiding the blazing red of his ears. He marches to his driver and demands to return home, this trip nothing but a plague upon his blood and brain. ' Let her have her laughs now, but she won't be the one cackling at the end', he thinks. That night, Simon lay awake with the worst bout of indigestion he had ever experienced, stuck cursing the Madame between episodes of vomiting and shaking.

[the-king-andthe-lionheart]

History of Westeros tries to act like some sort of ASOIAF authority because they've re-read the books several times, but they really aren't. They legitimately released a YouTube short about Robb's Will being up in the air, which is correct, it is, but they also said that Sansa's marriage to Tyrion was annulled, which is factually wrong and just sounds like annoying Sansa Stan propaganda this fandom loves to spew that completely misconstrues and makes up about Sansa as a character and her arc and themes. I know Stansa's love coming up with excuses about Robb's Will to try to explain how Sansa can become Lady/Queen or the North/Winterfell (spoiler alert: she doesn't even have a leadership arc so how does that make sense?) but this is just next tier bullshit. Sansa's marriage isn't annulled just because you wish it hard enough. Littlefinger is hoping Tyrion is dead so that when Sansa makes her grand appearance after marrying Harry the Heir, it's not proved she's some bigamist, and that her marriage is legitimate. Littlefinger didn't magically finagle an annulment. No Sansa is still Lady Lannister in the books by the people of Westeros no matter how much this fandom wants to boo and hiss and complain about it. No matter what you want, this is what she is known to be in the books right now, just like Arya is still Lady Bolton and Lady of Winterfell (through proxy) by the people in Westeros. No matter how much you complain, it doesn't negate canon.

Can't say I'm surprised though. History of Westeros has defended the show and actually thinks what happened in the show, will largely take place in the books. And they are legitimate Arya anti's. I remember a few years ago they tried answering a question about what they think Arya's upcoming arc and endgame could be, and they couldn't think up anything beyond her either dying or sailing away. How can you be a self-proclaimed ASOIAF authority and not even take Arya's character and arc seriously enough to have legitimate, good faith ideas about where it's going considering she's one of the five main protagonists? Riddle me that?

It's ridiculous and all of this just proves my point. New fans of these books, or even older fans of these books who haven't re-read them, or haven't re-read them in a long time, need to be wary of these so-called "authorities" in fandoms, because most of the time they are biased and they spread lies. It's not a coincidence that most of the lies these people spread always misconstrued or flat out lie about Sansa's character, arc, plots, or circumstances in the books, either. I mean just look at this claim that Sansa's marriage to Littlefinger is already annulled. Look at how many things would come easier to her if that was the case. Not only would she no longer be tied to the Lannister name, but if she were to go on and wed another she wouldn't be considered a bigamist and it would be legitimate. And that's not even considering the fact that the reason Robb made up a Will was to specifically disinherit Sansa from ever getting Winterfell after being married into the Lannister family, so that the Lannister's couldn't claim it through her.

Hmm...kind of seems like History of Westeros isn't just making a dumb mistake (which you'd think would be edited out in the editing process if it was) but actually spreading lies to support their Pawn to Player/Queen Sansa propaganda even though it's still highly unlikely that Sansa would ever become leader of the North even if she got an annulment considering everything going against her in her own arc, which doesn't even include the fact that she quite literally doesn't have a leadership arc and she's the most passive POV character I've ever read and how she's constantly in lalaland. The fact that Robb, the legitimate heir to Winterfell, had to prove himself worthy in a bloody and violent and proactive way, should tell us everything about what the North is looking for in a leader, and it's not some pretty princess puppet planning parties. Sorry not sorry.

[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

After All Is Said And Done

Masterlist After the events of the winter holidays and Jamil’s manipulation, you and your friends are left to pick up the pieces.

Warning: I write the reader as female. Also the reader celebrates Christmas.

Includes: Angst, Female Prefect!Reader, Book 4 Spoilers, references to PTSD and depression, Jamil x Reader if you squint, platonic Ace x Reader x Deuce but can be read as pre-romantic

Honestly, after writing this, I’m thinking about writing a version with Riddle, Azul, Vil and Malleus...

You know I'm still standing better than I ever did

Looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid

I'm still standing after all this time

Picking up the pieces of my life without you on my mind

- Elton John, I’m Still Standing

“Hey Y/N, there’s another one,” Grim called out from the doorstep. You can feel your stomach sink, already knowing just what was left at your door.

“Ugh,” Ace groaned in disgust, “you’d think that he’d give up after all this time.”

You mentally agreed. Ever since the incident in Scarabia during the winter holidays, Kalim has been making an effort to invite you to his parties. Eagerly calling out your name whenever he spots you and enthusiastically telling you to come join him, listing all of the food and music he’d love to share with you. You have to admit, you did have a soft spot for the young heir, his genuine wholesomeness making it impossible for you to outright dislike him. It’s clear as day that his kindness is authentic, that he actually does want to spend time with you and wishes to bring you enjoyment. The kicked puppy look he gives you every time you politely turn him down with a new excuse each time does take a stab at your conscience but you can’t help it. Every time you think about the possibility of stepping into that dorm your mind reels with memories of darkened rooms, harsh reprimands, agonisingly scalding marches, banging on doors until your hands bruised and screaming for someone, anyone, to let you out until your throat ached.

“Just burn it, Grim, you know the drill,” Deuce told the feline, his face twisted into annoyance.

“Hell yeah,” Grim crows in triumph, about to summon one of his beloved fire blasts before Ace swiped the ornately detailed paper from his paws and unceremoniously threw it into your fireplace not even giving it a glance as the flames burned it to ash.

“Don’t even bother,” Ace said, “stuff like this isn’t worth anyone’s time and effort. At least it can be used to kindle the fire for s’mores now.”

You looked at Ace and Deuce and you thanked The Seven for having such amazing friends. Whilst the uncomfortable twisting in your stomach still remained, their obvious attempt at helping you definitely alleviated it. 

The previous winter holidays made it clear just how much they cared about you. The moment that they realised that something was wrong, they put aside their differences and used their own resources to personally check up on you. Granted, you would have appreciated it more if they arrived a few days earlier whilst you were still being kept prisoner but the warmth you felt inside at seeing such friendly faces after so long made up for everything.

When Ace and Deuce had entered Ramshackle with Grim one afternoon to prepare for another impromptu sleepover, with bags of groceries and overnight things in their arms, they were surprised to find it completely silent. Apart from the scuttling and twittering of woodland creatures, the moaning of old pipes and the nervous whispering of the apparitions that lived with you, it was disturbingly quiet.

They felt a collective chill go up their spines, though whether that was due to the lack of heat in this abandoned building, the growing fear that something is wrong with you or the presence of undead spirits huddled up in your living room was unknown.

The ghosts’ head shot up at the sounds of the door creaking closed behind them and the thuds of the boys dropping their bags onto the floor, frazzled worry lining their wispy white non-corporeal forms as they floated towards them. Their clear agitation did absolutely nothing to soothe the trio’s growing anxiety.

“You youngins’ are here for Y/N right?” one of them asked.

“Yeah, we are,” Ace replied, his voice coming out more harsh and aggressive to mask the growing dread.

“Is something wrong?” Deuce’s voice, on the other hand, clearly conveyed every inch of fear that he felt.

“We don’t know,” a taller ghost stated, “we haven’t seen Little Miss in ages.”

“All this time she’s been in her room, without a peep,” another butted in, “it’s been hours and she hasn’t even come down for dinner.”

“And you didn’t think to check on her?!” Ace said angrily, “she could be in trouble.”

“We can’t go in there!” the shortest of them explained defensively, “that’s a lady’s room.”

“And even if we could, what’s the point?” the first one elaborated, “it’s not like we have bodies that can help her.”

“Please go see her,” the second implored, “we’re worried.”

“You really care about her, huh?” Ace noted, seeing the panicked, begging looks that were being directed at them.

“Of course we do,” a ghost stated matter-of-factly, “Little Miss is family.”

“Maybe it’s nothing,” Deuce said after a beat of silence, trying to calm himself and everyone else, “maybe she’s just sleeping?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Grim was quick to jump to that conclusion, any conclusion that wasn’t the fact that his beloved henchman is in trouble, “Henchman’s just conked out. She’s fine.”

Despite his cheery words, he couldn’t help the pit forming in his stomach, a deep hole that not even tuna could satisfy. The three of them looked at each other before running up the creaking stairs, with Deuce throwing the ghosts a quick thank you. As they reached the top and made their way down the corridor and towards your bedroom, they could faintly hear the sound of rushing water getting louder and louder. In spite of the darkness enshrouding the passageway, your room appeared to be fully lit, if the hazy golden glow peeking out from under your door was any indication. 

With a firm twist, Ace banged open the door, completely ignoring the sound of it ricocheting off of its adjacent wall in his hurry to see you, only to find your room completely bare of any life. Noticing that the door to the attached bathroom was wide open, the trio rushed towards it only to stand frozen at the doorway. 

The sight they were met with was you, sitting hunched up in your bathtub, still fully clothed sans your socks and shoes. Your shower was still on, sending streams of water down towards your crouched figure, completely drenching you.

“Y/N!” the three of them yelled, racing towards you. Grim jumped into your arms, getting on his hind legs so that he could paw at your shoulder and face, doing whatever his tiny hands could do to get you to notice him. Deuce did the same, stepping into the bathtub whilst Ace turned off the spray of water so that he could grip your shoulders and shake you whilst whisper-shouting your name. Still, you did not react, the only result of their attempts to stir you were your eyes laxly opening at their sudden manhandling, causing them to cease their jostling.

You looked less like a human and more like a marionette who had been cut from its strings. Your eyes, that were usually glowing with personality, all bright, fierce and lively, were currently dull, glassy and doll-like, all dim and staring without seeing. The only confirmation they had that their best friend was not a corpse were the small, dainty, robotic blinks of them and the way your chest would softly rise and fall. 

“The hell, Deuce,” Ace looked more worried than he did before - and considering the amount of near death experiences he’s been through with you, that’s saying a lot, “what are we supposed to do?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?!” Grim exclaimed fiercely, not moving from where he was nestled against your cold, drenched chest, “Henchman needs you!”

“I know-I know,” Deuce was quick to appease him, “why don’t we start by getting her out of here and into something warm? Then we can figure out what to do.” 

And so he brought you up into a bridal carry. Usually being so close to you would’ve flustered him beyond belief, his shyness around girls amplified around you despite all that you’ve been through together, especially now that the shower water made your soaked clothes stick onto you like a second skin and making certain aspects of your femininity more obvious but his need to help you was far stronger than any bashfulness he had.

He was scared - they all were. To see someone strong enough to fight overblots, to stand by their side and boldly face down the monsters in the mines, to live in this world that they are both literally and figuratively at the bottom of the food chain, so broken was nothing but haunting, a horrific sight that they’ll never be able to unsee.

Ace opened up your closet, grabbing some towels and a pair of pyjamas that he tossed onto your bed, as Deuce carried you to your bedroom, your head resting against the curve of your shoulder before gently placing you down onto your duvet.

“Let’s get you dried up, okay,” Ace cooed at you, smiling softly and speaking with a gentleness that surprised even him. He began to swipe a towel over your sodden frame as Deuce got to work gently drying your hair from behind you and Grim nuzzled, whined and purred against your lap.

“The ghosts told us that you haven’t eaten dinner,” Deuce murmured, “you should change into some dry clothes whilst we go and get you something.”

He got up from your bed and made a move to leave but your hand shot out and grasped onto the hem of his shirt. You continued to look down, not meeting anyone’s eyes as your shaking voice whispered, “don’t go.”

“Y/N, you’re drenched,” Ace said, “and you haven’t had anything in a while. We’ll be just downstairs and we won’t be gone for long.”

“Stay. Please,” your voice was weak and your eyes downcast, “don’t wanna be alone.”

The card soldiers gave each other a look before nodding and climbing onto your bed so that they sat as close to you as possible. You immediately cuddled up to them, allowing yourself to get enveloped by their touch.

“What’s wrong with me?” you whisper.

“Nothing’s wrong with you, Y/N,” Deuce soothed you, gently stroking your head and back like you would a wounded animal.

“Yeah,” Ace agreed with his rival, “it’s everyone else here that’s messed up.”

“Then why,” you did nothing to stop the tears from falling, your words coming out choked from the way your throat was constricting, “then why does all of this keep on happening to me?”

“I don’t know,” the red head sighed in defeat, continuing his ministrations on you.

You said nothing, allowing them to embrace you as you buried your face into their bodies, letting their clothes and Grim’s fur soak up your tears and muffled sobs.

It didn’t go unnoticed how your companions became even more protective of you after that incident. Wherever you went, they would flank you like guard dogs, shielding you from the rest of NRC and directing a glare at anyone who so much as looked at you. After hearing about how uncomfortable you felt being around certain people, they were on the lookout, not-so-sublty steering your body away from anyone they deemed unworthy of being within your gaze (you could’ve sworn that you heard Grim hiss at some students a few times).

It wasn’t just them. Your family of ghosts also made an effort to check in on you. Even when you couldn’t see them, you could feel them hovering near you in another room, making sure that you looked after yourself, gently reminding you to eat, sleep and rest. They called you over more often to join them in games, sharing stories and jokes, making sure not to mention anything that they felt could upset you.

Your past self - the person you were before your entrance to NRC, a person that now seemed almost like a stranger to you - would’ve found it smothering, almost demeaning at how they’re affections seemed to infantilise you but now, all you can think of is how much their presence comforts you, how loved they make you feel. It made you feel seen and heard, that at least the small handful of allies in your tight inner circle care enough to consider your feelings instead of sweeping them under the rug like everyone else. Like how a few words here and there and a few taps on the wrist were enough to clean up the mess that was the last overblot.

When the dust settled and all was said and done, everyone else partied whilst you were left hurt and broken and once again left to pick up the pieces of your shattered self.

It’s like your body is in constant fight or flight mode, with someone’s fist persistently banging on the ‘flight’ switch. Despite the anxiety and fear buzzing in you whenever you take a step outside, you feel constantly tired, both physically and mentally, your head feels like it’s perpetually submerged underwater and every bite of food you take tastes like sandpaper. ‘Down’ is the only word you can think of to describe yourself. Just chronically down - buried deep, deep underground with no way of clawing back onto the surface. It didn’t matter where you were or who you’re with, all you can hear is your mind constantly screaming at you that you’re in danger. No matter how many times they tried, the combined efforts of your new found family still couldn’t drive away the intrusive thoughts that crept up on you, the dark cloud of foreboding that would hover over you, the cold stare of the Grim Reaper that would follow you. Waiting. 

You couldn’t fault Jamil for his overblot. Despite the pains of your heart, the logic of your mind knew that he wasn’t truly to blame for tossing you to the ends of Scarabia, for leaving you shivering in the freezing blizzard, your body numbing from its close brush with hypothermia, for sending projectile after projectile after you with the intent to maim, the intent to kill, for leaving the imprints of snake fangs in your body as companions to the myriad of other scars that were gifted to you from him and the overblots that came before. It didn’t take a genius to know that everything he did whilst covered in that disgustingly sticky black ink (the ink that will now and forever be a recurring character in your dreams) wasn’t under his complete control, no matter what your nightmares and the sinister voices that would whisper in your ear during the dead of night told you.

But you allowed yourself to blame him for everything that happened before his subsequent descent into madness; for kidnapping you, hypnotising you, locking you up in a dark room against your will, keeping you away from the only people (and ghosts) that actually cared about you and prevented you from contacting anyone. 

You didn’t blame him for wanting freedom, for holding bitterness because of the cards he was dealt with, you just wished that he didn’t sacrifice your wellbeing in his schemes.

Whilst you did hate him for hypnotising you - in this world you already lost so much control of your life, he had to go ahead and take away even more of it - you resent him even more for manipulating you, for feigning affection in a world that gave you anything but, for using you, exploiting your weaknesses and the fact that you had no one apart from Ace, Deuce and Grim to call a friend.

Whilst Christmas doesn’t exist in this world, you made sure to make plans with your family in Ramshackle - you actually had fun detailing all that you were going to do with the ghosts and Grim: coming up with a menu, making or buying hand puppets to create your own Punch and Judy style panto, asking Sam to stock up on this world’s version of Christmas crackers, and just doing what you can to forget the fact that your friends and family are in a whole other world with no way to even give them glad tidings - but instead you spent it marching in the hot desert, contracting heat exhaustion, fainting due to said heat exhaustion when Kalim (actually Jamil) deprives you of any treatment despite your pleads and complaints, slurring your words and vomiting as you tried to ignore the worst migraine of your life and then spending half an hour breaking down into sobbing fits as you were once again imprisoned in that horrid room.

He made you believe that he was a friend, someone you could rely on. When you lost consciousness in the scorching desert, he gave you medicine and treated you to relieve the pain; when you felt confused and hurt by Kalim’s Jekyll-and Hyde-like behaviour and in anguish over not being able to leave, he provided a sympathetic ear and comforting smile as he gave you words of solace. But it was all a lie; you were suffering in the desert because of him, Kalim was hostile to you because of him, you were chased, treated horribly by the Scarabians and locked up against your will because of him. 

All the torment you felt was because of him. 

When you asked the Dorm Leader of Octavinelle and his underlings for help, you felt sick to your stomach, like scorching acid was leaving your mouth instead of words, at the very idea of having to ask the ones who conspired to make you homeless for help. But you had no choice, and the fact that he put you in a position where you had to go to people that you would rather die than ever associate with again makes you hate him even more.

Although, if you had to be honest, in a strange, warped sort of way, you almost respected Ashengrotto for what he did to you. At least he was honest when he stripped you of your home and the only family you had in this world, at least his malicious intentions weren’t hidden when he slyly slid you that dreaded contract - you didn’t even know why you were even surprised when he sent the eels out to harass you in his attempt at sabotage, he might not have invented sleaziness but he sure as hell perfected it. As dodgy as the mermen are, it would be better to have someone that you know you can never trust than one who takes your trust and then crumbles it to sand with his own hands right in front of you.

And Kalim - God, if your feelings for Kalim weren’t the epitome of mixed then you don’t know what is. On the one hand, the genuine warmth he exuded upon meeting you was unprecedented. Unlike the other students in this school, who openly treated you with hostility and malice before you could even say a word, he was the only one good-natured enough to show you the kindness you had missed from your world. Despite the obvious power imbalance, he treated you as an equal, sweeping you away on a magic carpet ride, treating you to the finest delicacies he had to offer, chatting, laughing and playing with you as if you were a person and not some magicless human that didn’t belong. But on the other hand he disregarded everything you went through under his so-called ‘best friend’s’ schemes. All the pain you suffered, all the scars you gained - both physical and emotional - were swept under the rug as Kalim answered Jamil’s public (“and insincere,” your mind adds) apology with an “I forgive you.”

“I forgive you.”

‘I forgive you’ Kalim says brightly and merrily goes out of his way to include Jamil during dorm activities like the Vice Housewarden didn’t do the magical equivalent of drugging and kidnapping you. Like he didn’t play you like a fool, dangling the possibility of friendship, of the companionship that you craved in this strange and lonely new world, before ripping it away from you and stabbing you in the back. Like he didn’t use you as a pawn in his sick, twisted game, literally controlling you and isolating you from any kindness you could get. It didn’t matter that after this you’ll never be the same again. No, of course not. 

Because in this world, you didn’t matter.

It all comes to a head when the Viper himself is the one that approaches you. 

You’re eating lunch in the dining hall when you feel an arm wrap around your shoulders and you get pulled into Ace’s chest. On your other side you can see Deuce’s hackles raise, his jaw clenching and glaring at an unknown individual with barely concealed anger, looking very much like the ex-delinquent he used to be.

“Whaddya want?” Grim drawls boorishly at the source of your friends’ ire, “we’re eatin’ here.”

“I’m aware of that,” the smooth, velvety voice of the Vice Dorm Leader of Scarabia makes you tense, an action Ace must have felt because you feel his hand squeeze yours shortly after. You writhe in place, loosening his hold and giving you enough wiggle room to get out of his grip. With your hand still in his, you turn to look at the interloper, to see what he says next, “Kalim’s hosting a banquet this evening and he’s asked me to personally invite Y/N.”

“Well she’s not coming,” Grim snapped at him.

“She’s busy,” Deuce said.

“And she has nothing to say to you,” Ace interjected, “so you can go ahead and bog off.”

Viper sighs, “I see. If that’s all.”

He turns around to leave but you stop him, “w-wait.”

At this not only he turns to look at you with bewilderment but Ace, Deuce and Grim as well. You continue, “can I please speak with you outside, there’s something I have to say.”

“Wha-Y/N are you sure?” Deuce said, looking at you with worry.

“Yeah, you don’t have to do this,” Ace agreed.

“He doesn’t deserve it,” Grim said imploringly. 

You smiled at him and pet the fur on his head before giving Ace and Deuce reassuring glances, “I’ll be fine. We’ll be just in the corridor outside so you’ll be nearby.”

“Alright then if you say so. But if he tries anything…” Deuce gives the Scarabian a glare, letting his threat linger.

With that you get up and wordlessly walk out of the dining hall and into the empty hallway adjacent to it, knowing that the other was following you without having to turn around and look. You stop at a corner and after taking a deep sigh to brace yourself you turn around and tell him with varying steadiness, “I just want to say that as much as I appreciate Kalim’s generosity and hospitality, I’m afraid that I have to decline.”

“Quite the journey just for one sentence,” he raises an eyebrow, the only expression his inscrutable face allows, “you couldn’t have said this back there?”

“It’s best if I told you this one-on-one just to get it out of the way. Make it clear that I’m the one who told you that I can’t attend and my friends have nothing to do with it. Now if you’ll excuse me-”

“But that’s not all you want to say, is it?” his question pierces you like a blade to your chest, releasing all of the air that was in your lungs.

“Whatever it is you want to say to me,” he intones, his voice as calm and collected and fake as it always is, “I can take it.”

Jamil Viper was many things but an idiot is not one of them. After Kalim’s first five consecutive rejections, he was well-aware that the so-called emergencies, errands and other assorted tasks were just excuses you made to prevent you from outright telling the Dorm Leader that you just didn’t want to attend. He can’t say he blamed you. He understood that you had a less than stellar time during your last visit to the dorm - after all, he was responsible for it. He tried explaining to Kalim that perhaps it would be best to leave you alone but his bleeding heart refused to understand that you were just being polite. He did consider you a friend after all, and truly wanted to pay you back for everything that you did to help him and his dorm during the holidays and to hear your refusals disheartened him, sending him whining about how he wished he could make you happy to thank you for all that you’ve done and make up for what happened. Jamil’s statements that maybe you just wanted to be left alone fell on deaf ears as the young heir decided to send another invite through him. Jamil bit back the remark that he would be the last person you wanted to see and begrudgingly left to do his duty.

“What if what I want to say to you is that the very sight of you makes me sick?”

You’ve got to hand it to yourself, despite having over a decade to fine tune his poker face and hide his inner thoughts, his eyes visibly widened, shock flashing over his features before immediately regaining their usual unreadable appearance.

You would’ve relished at his slip up, that for less than a second you were able to gain an upper hand over the man who toyed with your vulnerability and orchestrated your suffering, if you didn’t have a voice in your head warning you that it could all just be another ploy, another way for him to trap you in his coils and squeeze until you choke.

That’s what snakes do after all. They patiently lie in wait, completely unassuming and unthreatening, before they strike so fast and so viciously that its prey is completely helpless to the onslaught of venom that’s injected into its neck. 

He continues to stare at you, speechless so you continue, clenching your hands in a desperate attempt to stop them from shaking and willing your voice to stop wobbling despite every nerve in your body yelling at you to hightail out of there, to get away from the threat, the danger, that you’re not safe, just run, just flee to the refuge of Ramshackle before you inevitably get hurt again.

“I can’t look at you without wanting to throw up. Every time I see your face all I can remember is  what you did to me, how you used me, how my feelings were nothing but toys for you to play with to make you feel better. You hurt me. In one of the most unforgivable ways possible and I don’t think that I can go back to the person I was before the holidays.”

“You know what?” you laugh bitterly, shaking your head at yourself, “honestly, I can’t say that you’re completely to blame. It was my mistake for actually being stupid enough to fall for your act. If my time in this world taught me anything it’s that I should never let my guard down. I should’ve known that you never wanted to be my friend, that you, just like everyone else here, only care about yourself, without giving a damn about who you have to hurt to get it. It’s my fault for not learning from my experiences, for deluding myself into thinking that someone can actually like me in this damned place. God, I’m an idiot. At least now I know better than to believe your deception.”

“Y/N-”

“Was it fun, at least? Did you enjoy it? Taking a helpless, magicless girl and using her to satisfy your own twisted schemes? Taking my powerlessness and using that as a stepping stool to make you feel better? Manipulating me like your little lamb for slaughter? At least, I can say that the whole experience taught me something and it’s that no one here cares about me, that apart from Ace, Deuce and Grim, I have no one. So I think it would be best to tell your Dorm Leader that unfortunately, I will not be attending. Or not. You could just hypnotise him. Either way is the same to him.”

You turned around and was about to go back to the comfort of your friends, before tossing a few parting words over your shoulder: 

“Congratulations, Vice Dorm Leader Viper, you’ve achieved what you wanted. You said that you did all of that so you can finally have your actions acknowledged - well, here you have it. Now I can’t go a minute without acknowledging what you’ve done.”

And with that you walked away, meeting up with Ace, Deuce and Grim as they wrapped their arms around your shaking body and walked you back to the sanctuary of Ramshackle.

[staydandy]

Meet You at the Blossom (2024) - ก่อนดอกไม้…บาน / 花开有时颓靡无声 - Whump List

List by StayDandy Synopsis : Jin Xiao Bao, the heir of the wealthiest family in Jiangnan, meets a young woman and falls in love with the icy, white-clothed beauty at first sight. When he comes to the rescue of this injured "woman" however, she turns out to be a disguised man named Huai En. When Huai En learns who Xiao Bao is, he hatches a plot to use Xiao Bao’s feelings for him to accomplish his mission. But this plan backfires when Huai En starts to develop real feelings for Xiao Bao. Will Xiao Bao learn the truth about who Huai En is, and his real reason for wanting to be with him? Could their feelings surpass animosity, and is true love around the corner? (MDL)

Whumpee : Jin Xiao Bao played by Wang Yun Kai (center left) • Zongzheng Huai En / Zheng Huai En played by Li Le (center right)

Country : 🇨🇳 China Genres : BL / Boys Love, Romance, Historical, Wuxia, Bromance

Notes : This is a Full Whump List • Adapted from the novel "Hua Kai You Shi, Tui Mi Wu Sheng" (花开有时, 颓靡无声) by Shui Qian Cheng (水千丞) • Co-production with China, Taiwan, and Thailand - I am going to list it under the "China" on my list/category/genre pages since that is the language used. • A mystical Uncensored Chinese BL • TW : SA

Episodes on List : 12 Total Episodes : 12

*Spoilers below*

01 : Zongzheng Huai En in a fight, cut a few times & stabbed, collapses & passes out … in a fight, cut a bit.. hit with needles poisoned with aphrodisiac (TW)

02 : … continued from previous ep. ... Jin Xiao Bao collapses, Huai En unsteady, collapses … Xiao Bao wakes in a strange place, been asleep for 2 days, sore (😏 lol) … briefly choking on a grape

03 : Huai En drugged with muscle relaxant (faking) … Xiao Bao sick, collapses out of bed … cared for

04 : Huai En nightmare … (at end) stabbed

05 : … continued from previous ep. ... Fight, cut & stabbed.. collapses

06 : Xiao Bao drunk, choked (TW) … carried … knocked out … hit with a walking stick … captured, caged, imprisoned

07 : Beat up, pierced with poisoned needles, bites his lip in pain, collapses.. unconscious … Huai En choked … Xiao Bao shivering … Huai En chained … Xiao Bao wakes from fitful sleep, beats on his chest, pain, treated with ~energy~ … Huai En fight, cut, stabbed, passes out.. imprisoned, chained … Xiao Bao unsteady, supported.. shivering, feeling overly cold

08 : … continued from previous ep. ... Needle pulled from his arm, pain.. in shock, knocked out … unsteady … extreme pain, falls out of bed, held steady in attempts to treat him … Huai En still chained … Xiao Bao rolling in extreme pain, treated with acupuncture, biting his hand … collapse in shock, unsteady, collapses in pain

09 : Rendered mute via pressure point (fixed a moment later) … choked, Huai En spits up blood, poisoned.. Xiao Bao shivering, passes out … unsteady, supported

10 : Huai En in fight, Xiao Bao's hand used to stab Huai En, Huai En spits blood, Xiao Bao in shock, shaking … weak, unsteady … pain, passes out

11 : Knocked out … Huai En unsteady … arm in a sling, poisoned.. treated … Xiao Bao in extreme pain, treated with acupuncture … Huai En fight, wounded … passes out.. tumbles off horse.. passes out

12 : … continued from previous ep. ... [replay] Passes out … Xiao Bao wakes with a start.. unsteady, grief … attempting to be cured, pain, fighting to stay awake … [quick flashback] Huai En passed out on the ground

More Whump Lists for this show: simply-whump

[thecountesstribe]

House of The Dragon 2x8 Spoilers and Review.

This is gonna be a rant but I'm still putting a spoiler warning cause some people were waiting for the entire season to drop before they watched. I was spoiled during the week and I'm mad as hell about it. Yes we all know it's fuck book canon atp but at least make sure the story flows and make actual sense.

The finale was mid. I felt like there were a lot of things missing and it was kinda confirmed. We're gonna have to wait 2 long years and knowing season 3 is about to just be the assassinations of characters because season 2 didn't really do anything, nothing moved story wise except the death of Jaehaerys, the sowing of the dragons seeds and the death of one of the realest women in Westeros. It was just glorified fanfiction and most definitely not the good kind.

I'm begging Ryan and Sara to please read or at least have someone else read the source material before they get back in that writers room.

Lucerys, Visenya and Jaehaerys deaths were supposed to haunt the narrative for the entirety of the season, how they could fumble it so bad that it just feels like a drop of water on your hands while washing it is beyond me. Blood and Cheese felt insignificant as fuck considering it was also a major event that led to the destruction and death of one of the most prominent houses in Westeros, majority of the Targaryen's lineage and the death of most of the dragons. I should've known when they started promoting the 2nd season as Alicent vs Rhaenyra instead of Rhaenyra vs Aegon II, y'know the usurper, that it was gonna be some bullshit. The other major events in the second season, Rhaenys' death also felt brushed aside. This is why the show needs to be at least 12-14 episodes. Abolish the 8-10 episodes shit.

I'm gonna get hate for this but could they please let this Rhaenicent relationship go! For the love of everything that is holy, let it go. Season 1 focused on them, fine. Season 2 you gave them a reunion, crazy but okay. There was literally no reason for a second reunion. Sure the scenes were beautiful, shout-out to the actors but let it go. The plot already felt cheapened when they chalked up the dance to one big misunderstanding. Which is crazy considering, Otto and the small council literally had this entire plan set in motion since Rhaenyra was named heir and even a little before. I need Ryan to understand that sometimes friendships just end. Sometimes your friends cross the lines one too many times and you just need to let them go. Alicent overstepped and crossed the lines with Rhaenyra it was downright disrespectful for Rhaenyra to even be in her presence at all tbh. This is the same woman who made her life a living hell, raised her children to be vile, hateful, spiteful little shits towards their own sister and her children, embarrassed her and tormented her in court, started and participated in the rumors and smear campaign about Rhaenyra's character and children, essentially ran her out of her own home, lied about the death of her father and the news didn't come from her or the council immediately but after and that's only because they were holding her former mil hostage and she got away. Alicent knew Viserys was addled and delirious and out of his mind when he was rambling about the conqueror's dream (she didn't know about the prophecy but still), so nothing he said was supposed to be taken seriously and just because he said “Aegon” she decided to be spiteful/hateful and usurp the throne knowing it would've hurt Rhaenyra. I don't know why people gloss over this fact either. Aegon said it himself, his father had years to name him heir and he remained steadfast to Rhaenyra's claim. Aemond said it again this season, the small council and his mother plotted to usurp the throne. What more was there to talk about? The only talking that should've been happening is Rhaenyra signing her and the council's execution warrants for treason. This all started because Rhaenyra omitted the truth about who took her virginity btw. She didn't lie, she never slept with Daemon in that brothel. Not to mention that Alicent son also killed her child!! Let it go!

I'm gonna reiterate this point but we didn't need to spend all that time with Daemon in Harrenhal and his hallucinations. That should've taken 3 episodes top and then they could've had him work on his relationships with his family instead. Especially his daughters. The only thing I liked coming out of the Daemon hallucinations is the prophecy. DAENERYS STORMBORN TARGARYEN IS THE “PRINCE” WHO WAS FUCKIN PROMISED!! NOT THAT BUM JON SNOW. Fuckin finally. We could lay the discourse to rest. GRRM could've posted it on a billboard for the entire world to see and it still would've had the select few that will insist on Jon being the one who the prophecy was talking about. The events in the show and the book supported this btw so I don't even know what the argument was about but let's lay it to rest now. Although show wise it doesn't fuckin matter either way because D&D fucked the last seasons but book lore wise this is what GRRM intended or intends. Still waiting on the next book! The term “prince” was gender neutral. And everybody celebrates. Daemon swearing allegiance to his Queen, as he fuckin should. Raising the army in her name as he should. He's got voices in his head now apparently. Also he has a new friend in Alys, good for him.

Aemond did what he was supposed to do this season. He's still an unhinged psychopath, absolutely no one is surprised. No complaints on my end. I need him to keep his grubby hands to himself though. Helaena gave him his death notice and rubbed in the fact that nobody gave a damn about him in the end, she did that for me.

Criston even though I hate to admit it, same thing. He's still a woman hating piece of shit though and I want him dead immediately. We didn't need all those alicole sex scenes though. We got it, they were fuckin, kudos.

Larys and the small council did what was also expected.

Aegon is still fried. Now he's apparently heading to Essos. He wants to usurp the moniker “Realm's delight” too and to that I say absolutely tf not. That is reserved for pretty women only. Aegon has officially been castrated!! That was for all the women in the realm. It's what he deserved. I don't believe for one second that Sunfyre is dead. I think that'll be a swerve.

I wished we focused on Helaena more though. Her grief was explored a little more than Rhaenyra's but it was also brushed aside. Why? That would've been important to her characterization. Also why did they have Helaena astral project into Daemon's dream? She was so cool as well, like that man didn't have a hand in the death of her son.... You can't make this shit up. The scene was essentially “you killed my kid cool but since you're so good at killing could you get my brother next?” I'm convinced they are doing this shit on purpose. Why do they keep making the female characters in the show this peace seeking, docile beings when they were just as and even more chaotic than their male counterparts (with reason might I add). The men just do the most unhinged shit for glory and in the name of war sake and the women gotta be the peacekeepers even though they're the most wronged.

Alicent's character didn't deserve half the screentime she got because if you cut her scenes in half the majority of them contributed nothing to the moving along of the plot. Absolutely nothing. We already had limited time as is.

Baela and Rhaena I am so sorry you have incompetent people telling your side of the story. Sure they got more lines this season and that's a stretch but they're lacking characterization as well. Ryan and Sara scrapped the Nettles plot, okay (that was fuckin stupid). Nettles had a major role to play. Gave her story to Rhaena in the last two episodes and we still didn't even see her claim Sheepstealer. It's up in the air. Also one of the princesses of the Realm managed to escape and you mean to tell me nobody is looking for her? She just fucked off and that's it. Yeah okay. Also I hated how they wrote her relationship with Jeyne. She was so kind to her in the books and Rhaena actually had a story in the books when she went to stay with her. Sure she would've been living her princess core era life but it's what she deserves. It would've helped flesh out her character as well, led to her hatching Morning and her life after the dance.

Baela lost the majority of her characterization as well even though she's inherently more fleshed out than Rhaena. Baela was chaotic as hell in the books. They swapped her personality in a sort of way with Jace, although he does have a temper (and rightfully so. They did kill his little brother and sister and he seems like the only one who cares) but Baela is supposed to be more unhinged than him. We only caught a few glimpses of her book personality and that's it. Again why are they writing the female characters as these docile, peace seeking beings? They also completely brushed aside their grief concerning their brother/betrothed, sister, mother and grandmother. I'm tired. We kinda got something for Baela in her grief but it was the bare minimum and it was barely mentioned again. Rhaenys was a parent to those girls (more than Daemon at least) and she got a fuck all remembrance. We totally should've gotten even better Jace and Baela's relationship development. We got her being more of his support system though they were each other's. Baela's feelings weren't explored more besides her hating her dad. Unless they're planning to explore it more in season 3 but well y'know 💔. Her telling Jace to stop pouting though and him insisting he's not even though he totally was🤣🤣😭😭. She gathered him and rightfully so. Also their unspoken conversation during the dinner scene with the dragonseeds. Peak wife and husband behavior. I hope we don't have to mourn for what could've been more than we will already be doing.

Rhaenyra character this season was all over the place. They only stick to what her character was from season 1 in episode one and then after that it was like she did a 180. She was destroyed by the grief of her son, daughter and father. They completely forgot that and had her doing the stupidest stuff. She had one of her biggest supporters die as well and it was just cast aside. Development wise we got to see her more open. I'll give them that. They also brushed aside her grief. It felt like Lucerys didn't matter to her in some instances. I have a feeling they're gonna go down the “mad Targaryen” role for her as well. If a woman has to be in power then she has to go crazy. That's what that cult Rhaenyra vibes is giving. I'm not tripping, you guys see it too right? I touched on the second reunion between her and Alicent but her whacking her this last episode was satisfying. I don't trust Alicent's plan and Rhaenyra knows and hopefully she sticks to it. She knows that she has to kill Aegon now. A son for a son. This is who I wanted to see this season. It's like she got back her personality traits in the last episode. She still needs to work on her standing as queen. She had that bum Ulf disrespecting her at the table and she needed to have his tongue expeditiously. Mysaria and her are doomed yuri confirmed. Mysaria has her ear but is only telling her what she wants to hear and that is going to be her downfall. I still can't figure out her angle though but we'll see in season 3. She inadvertently hurt Jace again when she chose Addam to go to Harrenhal. It's like one step forward and then 3 steps back with them. I'm hurt knowing the possible outcome of this situation. Daemon and her reunion were good. I like how she didn't fall back into his arms. Stand on business and continue to stand on business Rhaenyra.

Corlys grief was brushed aside. He didn't really do anything this season besides deny his sons, lie to his wife in his last moments and try to make his legitimate granddaughter heir after laughing off the idea of making his other legitimate granddaughter heir. His ship is finally fixed though. “The Queen Who Never Was ” is the new name of it. I had tears in my eyes, I could admit it. I'm not ashamed. Everything that he's doing now he's doing it for Rhaenys. 😭😭😭😭😭😭 Why did he wait so freaking long to honor her properly though 💔. There is no denying he loved his wife, he just could've loved her better. I'm glad Alyn dragged his ass for being a deadbeat though. Gave his ass a reality check he so richly deserved. He hurt those boys and he deserved to know. Imagine your father could've made your life easier but he decided to be a coward while favoring his other children, a tongue lashing would've been the least he got, I would've fought him. They're on to meet the triarchy though.

Jacaerys character was developed stellar this season. He didn't have plenty of screentime and he was mugging down for most of it but the rage, the grief, the despair was all palpable. He lost a part of his soul in Lucerys and it was there for everybody to see. He didn't get anything to do until the later half but when he got to go he did. I said it before and I'll say it again I love his and Baela's relationship. Him resting his hand in her lap after her scolding and her gently massaging it. Yeah those are real lovers. His beef with Ulf is so personal to me. Like yes threaten that uncouth vermin some more. Really reminded me of his fathers there. It's crazy though how Addam and Jace parallel each other though. Two of the best boys in Westeros that deserve the absolute world. Fate was unkind to them both as well.💔

Shout-out Simon Strong. One of my favorite characters this season along with lil Oscar. I love how he didn't let that traitorous snake Alfred slide. He let his queen know immediately. I love a loyal diva.

Tyland and the triarchy were funny though. Who would've thought I could've shown a Lannister besides Cersei love?!

I'm wrapping up this rant cause it's already so long-winded. The show is only slated for 4 seasons though btw. LMFAO.

Until next time folks. Take care of yourselves in the meantime.

Until season 3 folks.

[gaslightgatekeepgirlbosscombat]

Group H, Round 4, Poll 2:

Propaganda under the cut

Li Lianhua/Li Xiangyi

All men do is lie. He's a "miracle physician" (citation needed) who lies himself out of every situation he's in. Didn't so much as fake his death, rather let everyone believe he was dead and then lie to their face when asked about who he really is. Convinces everyone he's just a weak doctor who doesn't know any martial arts but has a cunning mind, despite the fact that he literally used to be the head of the martial arts world before being poisoned. Somehow nearly everyone he meets is in love with him. He's everything to me

#THE LI LIANHUA PROPAGANDA LEFT OUT HIM DRUGGING PEOPLE MULTIPLE TIMES #TO AVOID (POTENTIALLY) GETTING ASKED ABOUT THE ISSUES HE IS CHOOSING TO LOOK AWAY FROM AND NOT SEE #ALSO THE TIME SOMEONE FIGURED OUT HIS TRUE IDENTITY BUT THEN THEY FELL UNCONSCIOUS #AND HE GOT AWAY WITH IT BY TELLING THEM THEY HAD BEEN HALLUCINATING WHEN THEY WOKE UP

#if he doesn’t lie thirty-seven times a day he will die #you could show him a dna test proving he is li xiangyi and he’d deny it to your face

#HE ONCE SAYS TO A CHARACTER THAT ‘HE NEVER LIES’ TO GET OUT OF A SITUATION AND THAT WAS A BIG FAT LIE #TELLS A CHARACTER AN INTRICATE STORY ABOUT FINDING HIS OWN CORPSE ON THE BEACH COMPLETE WITH PHYSICAL EVIDENCE AND ALL JUST SO THE CHARACTER #REACHES THE CONCLUSION THAT HES DEAD #HE GATEKEEPS THE VIEWER FROM KNOWING HIS FULL STORY ON RELIABLE TERMS AND YOU HAVE TO PIECE IT TOGETHER PAINSTAKINGLY

#continuously lies to the person he calls his jianghu bff to evade his questions regarding his identity #puts on a mask and defends the bff in fights#then shows up later like #🥺 wow that was so scary glad you were here to protect me! i have no martial arts skills #evades arrest by pretending like being shoved against a wall broke his ribs #'🥺 i'm just a little guy and you're so strong you'd better check out my ribs' #and then throws knockout powder at him

Ianthe Tridentarius

She is trying so hard to be the main character by lying and manipulating her sister, her cavalier, her mentor, her ?love interests? (Spoiler???) And also god. Not sure how it's working out for her but she does love to lie and manipulate

Worstie Ianthe is the DEFINITION of gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss. She is one of a set of necromancer twins that are the heirs to their houses rule. Except wait, only she is a necromancer and she has spent their entire lives doing necromancy for the both of them. She is constantly mean to their cavalier, Naberius, who she occasionally nibbles on like a chew toy, before eventually killing and eating him to ascend to sainthood. She goes to gods spaceship with another woman who ascended to sainthood who she has a crush on, this other woman is like…. Both incredibly mentally unwell and also haunted by at least 211 ghosts. Ianthes method of flirting with her? Gaslighting her about the corpse that keeps moving around and hiding under her bed. For no real reason tbh. She is clearly plotting to overthrow god, and at the moment that consists of her manipulating him while he’s too sad about his long term partners betraying him and subsequently exploding to really care. She dresses in terrible outfits and makes soup by burning onions to the bottom of a pot, putting meat in and some vegetables and then it doesn’t taste like anything so she puts in a few teaspoons of salt so it tastes like a few teaspoons of salt. She had her crush amputate her arm and regrow her a new one out of bone and it’s one of the horniest things I’ve read in my life.

"Gaslight = told her lobotomized (she helped), schizophrenic girlobsession that there was no corpse under their bed, even tho there totally was. Gatekeep = girl did NOT share the secret to god-like ascension. She kept that shit to herself until it was time to eat her boytoy, and by then everyone knew already. Girlboss = she has a non-necromancer twin sister, and literally Everyone thinks they r both necromancers because Ianthe is so good at it. She reverse engineered ascending to the aforementioned ascension without even completing any of the supplementary tasks. She held her own in a fight against a 10k year old lyctor. She becomes the figurehead of her entire empire. "

She uses a man as a chewtoy in the first book, literally gaslights the protagonist of the second book about a corpse, and elder-abuses God when he gets depressed in the third book. Nobody is doing it like her.

Dives headfirst with no regrets while basically laughing and covered in blood into murdering her cavalier once she realizes what the gothic locked room mystery/competition leads to while everyone else is questioning it, helps perform lobotomy on harrow so she doesn't remember the person she loves, manipulates everyone to get to the top

idk just everything about her

her relationship with her sister is incredibly Bad, she fosters codependency and views Corona(the sister) as an extension of herself. This does not stop her from keeping up the con that Corona actually has magic (She doesn't, it was always just Ianthe) for 22ish years and every single person who interacts with them falls for it. She killed a man against his will (most dying for this purpose specifically go willingly) and she consumed him and she will be burning his soul for eternity. She's completely repulsive and still somehow incredibly hot.

she takes advantage of the fact that the main character is prone to hallucinations. at one point she gaslights the mc into believing that the corpse under her bed isn't real just because she can. she reverse engineered a set of very complex trials on her own without anyone realizing she had the skills to complete them normally. she's also babysat god through his drunk and pathetic era.

[chibimui]

The Apothecary Diaries LN3 Thoughts - Ch12-13

LN 3: Prologue-ch2 - ch3-5 - ch6-8 - ch9-11

Just two chapters this time! They're both really interesting chapters in terms of in terms of world building, fleshing out the history of Li as a country and providing little nugget of info regarding the Royal Family - whether it's about the past rulers, or the current ones.

I genuinely love how much lore dropping LN3 and from this point onward it just keeps giving and giving until the end. For now, let's just see what the next two chapters bring eh?

(Warning: These thoughts may contain spoilers from later light novels all the way up until LN15.)

Chapter 12 - Shrine of Choosing

I feel like a lot of people enjoy this chapter for the JinMao implications, and I do too, but the bigger highlight for me is the answer to the mystery! It's funny because I grew up with a medical background so I usually really dislike medical dramas, but taking modern medical knowledge and throwing it into the context of the past always fascinates me a bit. I'm always like "wow, what a clever way to depict this modern medical thing we now understand!" and this is another great example of that.

Anyway, passages which I highlighted before we get to the real meat of the chapter:

1) I find the history of Li really interesting. It doesn't have any huge relevance to the overall plot, but I like how it builds up the world and adds a bit more depth to the politics that occur.

2) Jinshi and Maomao spying on the class is so cute. I can already picture how they'd animate it <3

3) More imperial family world building - again, we love to see it!

And finally, the meat of the chapter:

Appropriate response from Maomao. It's pretty obvious that the Emperor specifically wanted Jinshi and Maomao to go through the shrine together, but I wonder what his overall line of thought was. Clearly it was meant to be a test, but what was he planning to do afterwards once they succeeded? Was he eventually going to use this moment as a way to convince Jinshi to accept the position as royal heir? Was this just a test to see if Maomao would be an appropriate partner for his sons affections?

I also find it amusing how Maomao is just like "of course Jinshi would be here, he officiates ceremonies" without actually asking why Jinshi does that. Maomao please. The evidence is literally slapping you in the face.

1) I wonder what Jinshi thinks about this. He's clearly taking this very seriously. I genuinely wonder what the Emperor told him about why he's doing this.

2) This specific eunuch is also such an interesting character. I can't remember if he ever comes back in any significant way, but he has such a strong personality. He works for the royal family, but clearly does not necessarily bow down to them and knew exactly what to say to get Maomao going. What a sneaky guy.

Maomao being the genius she is always gets to me, but again, I just really like the answer to this mystery and how it connects back to the royal bloodline. Colour blindness, inherited from the maternal line which is foreign blood, and then too much inter-marrying to retain the gene which made it easier for the royal line to die out. I know I've mentioned before reasons why Consort Lihua wasn't picked as Empress, but this is definitely meant to be the main one - at the end of the day she's just too close to the family line.

(Don't worry Maomao, it's not you the Emperor is having a laugh at.)

Jinshi was probably a heart beat away from having an aneurysm. It's one thing for Maomao to question whether the Emperor is making a joke given he is the Emperor, but it's another thing entirely for Jinshi to take him seriously. Jinshi, please. You know the type of women your "brother" likes and Maomao is definitely not up to par.

It's also just funny that the Emperor is aware of Jinshi's little (humongous) crush. If you think about it, Jinshi probably doesn't actually meet with the Emperor that often and when he does I bet it's mostly to talk about the rear palace - Maomao shouldn't really come up in conversation. This leads me to believe Lady Gyokuyou has been sharing the hot gossip and I find this possibility absolutely hilarious.

And once again we have Maomao taking the path to ignorance. What the eunuch said is so curious though - I guess this is foreshadowing the court's displeasure towards the Emperor choosing Lady Gyokuyou instead of Lady Lihua, but for Jinshi I presume this is just a general warning that people will try to target those around him whom he cares for.

Now for JinMao fans this is a big chapter because there's the big question of is this entire chapter foreshadowing the eventual conclusion to their future - Jinshi becoming Emperor with Maomao at his side.

As someone who is in the camp of Jinshi becoming Emperor is the Bad Ending, reading this chapter again..., instead of seeing this chapter as foreshadowing, I read it more as a nudge to help the Emperor figure out how to effectively navigate the current political climate. The Emperor himself has failed the shrine multiple times on his own so far, while Jinshi is only able to "succeed" with the assistance of a partner who was able to use her intelligence to solve the puzzle - not her bloodline.

As Maomao mentions, part of the reason the royal family is in decline may be due to trying to hard to protect the colour blind gene. Maomao being able to solve the puzzle through just her intelligence breaks this--and I feel like this may be what causes the Emperor to decide to elevate Lady Gyokuyou. Wisdom over bloodline purity. Someone who can bring change rather than sticking to the same old traditions of the past.

Chapter 13 - The Empress Dowager

The pay off to this joke is so funny. It's truly moments like these that make me appreciate The Apothecary Diaries so much. It's something that genuinely has no plot relevance, but is such a fun way to build up the world and Maomao's character.

I also think it's so funny that Maomao is so affronted by the wrong accusation that she personally goes to hunt down Shisui just to prove that it wasn't her. She's so offended.

The oddities around Shisui just keep piling up don't they.

I am screaming at Maomao just casually giving Jinshi's stuff away. I mean yeah Jinshi probably has 5000 beautiful expensive handkerchief's and doesn't need it back, but like... I love how she isn't even concerned about whether Jinshi would care or not. And I love that she knows him well enough now to know he probably wouldn't even care to ask for it back.

We have mysteries upon mysteries. I do like how as the series has progressed, Natsu-sensei begins balancing both one off cases and grander, larger mysteries that get their pay off a few books later more and more.

Maomao is truly a cat meeting another cat and being like "This isn't me >_>", except it totally is her. She is so lucky she doesn't live in the era of smart phones because she can pretend she doesn't act as unhinged as Shisui when she is in the vicinity of rare medicinal herbs. Maomao, you literally climbed onto Jinshi's desk when he suggested giving you an ox bezoar. You are absolutely just as deranged if not even more.

Lots of juicy details in this short exchange. One is something that is only fun in hindsight as a re-reader - "Why are you hiding?" Why indeed.

The second is Maomao realizing that she has completely stopped treating Jinshi with any of the respect that is typically required. When I first read this line I see it as somewhat self-deprecating humour, she says it but we know she isn't going to follow through on it. When I consider upcoming events in this novel though, I realize Maomao is actually being pretty serious with herself in this moment. She actually does want to maintain the boundary, even if she keeps failing at it.

This is one of those moments where I really grew to love and appreciate the way Natsu-sensei approaches the world of The Apothecary Diaries.

You have her introduce a character, the Empress Dowager, kindhearted, brought about revolutionary changes meant to better the world... and in other stories I feel like the narrative would end here. She would be showered with praise, everything is great, slavery is gone, just like how things are in our modern world, woot woot. But it doesn't end here.

I feel like that question - "What constitutes slavery" and the following "the practice had simply changed its name and adapted to new social standards" is especially hard hitting in the present when I look at what's happening in the USA/Canada, where class inequality just keeps growing and growing and growing. People might not be slaves by the traditional definition, but a lot of people definitely aren't "free" either when they're chained to their shitty jobs to basically stave off homelessness. "Corporate slaves" is a term that exists and it exists for a reason. The problem didn't just fix itself, it just changed and morphed into something else and there are still so many things we could and should be doing to make the world a better place.

Unfortunately, even when kind people like Anshi exist to bring about revolutionary change, if you push too hard sometimes it will create backlash and I have seen that even within my own province.

Moving on:

1) Maomao? Actually being put to work? Say it ain't so!

2) Loooove this detail in characterization for Lady Gyokuyou. But also, we get a name to the Empress Dowager!

3) More interesting world building details regarding the inter-connected web between Suiren and the royal family.

4) A reminder into Maomao's cautious nature.

Aaaaand the chapter ends with this tiny little bomb - WN spoilers but... Anshi really believes in her curses doesn't she.

I genuinely wonder how Anshi got the idea to come to Maomao. Was it a direct suggestion by Suiren or Jinshi, or was it something she thought of on her own just by hearing about Maomao? It's hilarious to remember Maomao from LN1 just wanting to keep her head down, have no one notice her, and now the Empress Dowager is personally coming to ask her for help. This poor girl.

Also, I think it's interesting how this chapter was called "The Empress Dowager" even though she only appears at the end and you don't actually get that much of her character--you mostly just get Maomao's observations of her. And then next chapter, which arguably characterizes Anshi even more is titled after the former Emperor.

Anyway - we shall end here for today because the next chapter is a Big One and this post is already long enough as it is.

Until next time!

[starrynightmuse]

A Character Study: Aegon II from House of the Dragon

3k+ words. Just a compilation of my thoughts concerning the character of Aegon Targaryen II. I'm not trying to debate or prove a point, I just wanted to pen down my views of him. Also, I did not mention Daeron because I wanted to focus on the TV show.

Beware, spoilers.

Aegon is a product of abandonment — by his father, mother, and his elder sister — and his personality holds all the signs of it. Viserys, for all his dreams of having a male heir, neglects the boy when he finally is born. The king instead showers all his affection on Rhaenyra, the only surviving child born out of the marriage with the true love his life, the late Queen Aemma.

Rhaenyra sees Aegon only as a rival and threat to her claim on the Iron Throne. In the book, the only reason she even agreed to marry Laenor Velaryon after the infamous Daemon scandal was because Viserys threatened to replace Aegon as his heir if she didn’t comply. Aegon's her competitor and nothing more. Rhaenyra makes it obvious when she makes a point to address him only as half-brother (she addresses all of Alicent’s children as half-siblings, for that matter).

As for Alicent, Otto Hightower was removed as Hand of the King shortly after Aegon’s birth — an event that Alicent blames Rhaenyra for. She’s now left in a court full of schemers; she has zero allies save for Ser Criston Cole and Larys Strong (the latter who she treats with trepidation because, let’s face it, he’s a creepy guy and his job as professional torturer doesn’t help). Her new position as Queen only isolates her further. To top it off, her husband blatantly favors her step-daughter over both her and her new baby boy, which only fuels the belief that Aegon’s life would be at risk should Rhaenyra succeed him.

Alicent is now feeling more alone than ever. I also think a part of her saw Aegon as the final event that ended her childhood once and for all. He represents a time of significant losses to her — loss of her maidenhood, loss of her father, loss of her bond with her childhood friend. She feels deeply betrayed by everyone she had been close to. By Rhaenyra, who lied to her about Daemon/Criston despite swearing on Aemma’s grave (which holds so much weight for Alicent because both her and Rhaenyra bonded over the deaths of their mothers). By Viserys, who married her when his heart still belonged to Aemma. By Otto, who had a hand in making her marriage with Viserys happen and then left her to raise her son — his grandson — all on her own. 

So Aegon had an absent father, an unfriendly older sister, and a mother who feels paranoid and isolated. Aegon may have only been a toddler but I don’t think he was clueless to the woes of his mother and tensions happening in court. Children always pick up on emotions.

It was the perfect recipe for creating the irresponsible young man he would grow up to be.

Now we’re going to be stepping into headcannon land, but bear with me. I’m imagining Aegon as a young boy in the throne room. He’s hiding behind Alicent’s skirts because I think young Aegon would’ve been a scared little kid. Growing up in court amidst all the animosity would have him both confused and anxious all the time. He’d blame himself for his father’s neglect and his mother’s worried eyes and frown lines. His older sister also hates him for apparently no reason too, at least according to Aegon. His mother whispers to him that the Iron Throne would be his one day, but soon he notices the cuts that his father gets from sitting on the damned chair. Cuts that always fester and that the maesters would eventually have to leech. He sees Viserys getting weaker and weaker each time he sits the throne.

That’s when Aegon decides that he doesn’t want the throne. He doesn’t want that fate.  I think Aegon is smarter than people give him credit for. He sees the Iron Throne for what it really is: a decoration and a cutting hazard. More importantly, he sees it as an extension of Viserys. The Iron Throne = the king = Viserys = the father who doesn’t care for him.

Well, fuck that, young Aegon thinks. I won’t care about you either. Fuck you and everything you stand for.

So he lets all his inhibitions run wild. I think it would start with small childhood acts of defiance — like boisterously interrupting important meetings around the Red Keep and playing rude pranks on lords and servants alike. Eventually he’d discover the secret passageways and he’d sneak off to Flea Bottom, pick fights with the locals just because he can, and get high at the Ale houses when he’s supposed to be studying.

What started as just a fun little drink to loosen up becomes his lifeline. Being sober opens up the path for analytical thought, and Aegon doesn’t want that, not with all the constant anxiety he feels. He wants to be far away from his reality, from his father, from his Targaryen heritage and everything it meant. 

So he drowns himself in cup after cup. One addiction leads to another, and pretty soon he finds pleasure and fighting rings added to his list of addictions too. This boy is an adrenaline junkie, and he chases high after high — be it from wine, from flesh, or from violence — just to keep his mind off the fact that he's a firstborn Targaryen prince. 

And if Alicent yells at him, what of it? All the slaps to his face only meant that she cares about him. Isn’t that the most important thing? Aegon thinks. The more debauched his activities became, the more she cared. (Aegon adopts the "Red Means I Love You" mentality).

I also think Aegon is jealous of Rhaenyra, sort of like how Aemond is jealous of him. Rhaenyra's irresponsibility is swept under the rug. Aegon, on the other hand, is treated as the family disappointment. No matter how many bastards she births, Viserys continues to dote upon her. No matter how many rumors circulate around King's Landing of her and her paramour, Harwin Strong, Viserys' love for Rhaenyra is unconditional. In other words, she easily receives what Aegon had always coveted.

As for his relationship with Jace and Luke — Aegon couldn’t care less that they were Rhaenyra’s bastards. Status and symbols mean nothing to him; he’s far happier in the taverns of Flea Bottom with the common people than he ever was with the stuffy nobles in the Red Keep. He has no quarrel with them, and they laugh along to his jokes and pranks. At least they know how to have fun, he thinks. Better Jace and Luke than shy, quiet Aemond who keeps to his studies (the fucking nerd) and weird Helaena who only talks about bugs.

Remember, Aegon feels awfully detached from his family. Aemond and Helaena definitely felt detached also; they too were neglected by Viserys. Each of them coped by withdrewing —  Aegon to his brothels and alehouses, Aemond to the library, and Helaena to her interest in insects.

But Rhaenyra’s side has never quite felt like “family” to him — Jace and Luke look nothing like him, while with Aemond and Helaena, Aegon sees his own silver hair and purple eyes staring right back at him, symbols of his Targaryen heritage. I think he truly did consider Jace and Luke as “friends”, or at the very least, playmates for a time. He teams up with them to bully Aemond, whom he could not feel more distant from, despite being closer in blood to Aemond than he with Jace and Luke.

Aemond's a twat, Aegon justifies. Helaena's a twat too. They both represent family and duty to him, especially Helaena, who is a constant reminder of the duties he must perform as prince and firstborn son. Aegon just wants to love and be loved, and he knows he can't give that to Helaena, nor she to him. "We don't have anything in common" is the excuse he uses for not wanting to marry her, if only to lie to himself that they have everything in common. They have the same last name, the same hair and eyes, the same blood of the dragon running through their veins. And they will be stuck in the same loveless marriage together.

So when Alicent scolds him (Rhaenyra’s sons won’t be your play things forever…We are family… out there, we protect our own), the full weight of what she’s saying doesn’t hit him, not immediately…

Until Lucerys takes out Aemond's eye.

Aegon’s not stupid — he knows how Viserys gives Rhaenyra and her children free passes for everything. But I don’t think he realized that it also meant the blacks would get away with maiming his brother, the king’s own son, too. The moment Viserys was more angry over the fact that his grandsons were called bastards than his son losing an eye was when Alicent’s words truly cemented into his mind. We are family. We protect our own.

(Jace and Luke never seemed sorry for their actions too. Were these the boys I sided with against my own brother? Aegon asks himself.) 

Aegon would be good at hiding it, but he’d feel immense guilt for not being there to protect his little brother. Viserys had proved to be undependable, so as the eldest son, it was now his job to protect his family.

He's relunctant, he admits. He can't connect with Aemond — his little brother was duty this, responsibility that, and frankly, it was annoying. He had never really understood Helaena (she's autistic coded). But Aegon is mad terrified of Viserys now. If his own father had threatened to cut out the tongue of anyone — noble or otherwise — who speaks a word against the blacks, and had refused to take justice for a Targaryen prince... then is anyone in his fraction truly safe? 

So Aegon stops bullying Aemond. Not that he had any cause left to bully Aemond with. The little boy had claimed the meanest, baddest dragon in the world and Aemond reminded everyone of this fact whenever he got the chance. But Aegon starts keeping his jesting to a minimum, and he decides to leave Aemond in peace. At least, for most of the time. Except for when he took it upon himself to teach Aemond "how to be a man" —  Aegon's version of sex education — something that Alicent would scorn if she ever found out but Aemond will eventually marry and someone needs to prepare him, Aegon thinks. Plus, it wouldn't hurt if my brother loosens up. He's all work and no play. 

(And when Aemond turns 13, Aegon takes him to a brothel on the Streets of Silk. Aegon thinks he's doing his little bro a favor. Aemond would never forgive him for it — but that's a story for another time.) 

Aegon also gives in and marries Helaena. Better me than Jacaerys, he thinks. If Helaena married into the blacks, Rhaenyra would always take Jace's side. The blacks didn't have a sense of justice and Aegon wouldn't subject his sister to that. I'm sure that deep down, he feels protective of her in a brotherly way, although he doesn't show it. He continues his debauchery despite knowing that it could harm her reputation but wine and women is where Aegon draws the line. I'll do what mother asks but I can't give up this.

(Aegon may think he would protect Helaena from the world but he fails to see that Helaena may need protection from him. Aemond sees this and steps up for the job.)

Aegon is also holding onto the hope that people would stop seeing him as heir if he acts unworthy enough. But in the attempt to distance himself from Viserys, Aegon turns out like his father in the process. He becomes an absent father to his children with Helaena. Good thing Uncle Aemond is there to help with the kids tho.

In spite of it all, things had started to fall into rhythm in the Red Keep for the Green kids. Aegon does his duty while still continuing his depravities, Helaena dedicates her time to her needlework and her babies, Aemond studies and trains with all his might to compensate for his lack of an eye. All is well, or as well as it could ever be. 

Until the matter of Driftmark's succession brings Rhaenyra’s clan back to the Red Keep.

While the petitions were being held, Aegon was indifferent to it all. To be clear, he didn't want Luke — the bastard who maimed his brother — to get Driftmark, but he wouldn't complain if Luke did, because it would only strengthen Rhaenyra's claim to the throne, thus making his own claim less valid. Aegon attends the ceremony and treats it with the morbid amusement of a man who had nothing more to lose. 

Then Daemon beheads Vaemond. That's when Aegon is reminded of who he is really dealing with. The blacks are no longer just Rhaenyra and her children — Prince Daemon, the notorious Rogue Prince, was now added to their list of foes. It was clear to everyone: the price for challenging Rhaenyra was immediate death. No trial, no mercy, no justice.

When Jace asks Helaena for a dance during dinner, Aegon’s protectiveness kicks in. He looks at Aemond, like, are you seeing this shit bro? 

This bastard thinks his family can get away with maiming my brother and he wants to dance with my wife as if nothing happened?

When the fight breaks out between Jace and Aemond, Aegon sees Luke rushing to Jace's side before stepping in to stop the boy from reaching Aemond. We protect our own.

I think that afterwards, Aegon was hit with the overwhelming reality that he had, more or less, managed to ignore for the past few years. It was easier to ignore the danger he was in with Rhaenyra gone. But now that she was back... and after witnessing Daemon's recklessness in the throne room... 

He sees his own head in the place of Vaemond’s. This could be my future, he thinks. Aegon wants to save himself before it was too late. 

To Aegon, running away probably seemed like a win-win situation. Rhaenyra gets the crown she wants, and Aegon gets his freedom. It’s better for everyone this way, he reasons.

“I will find a ship and sail away, never to be found,” he pleads Aemond, grasping his brother’s face with both hands. He’s desperate, and he’s hoping that his brother would understand. It’s not until Ser Crispy Cream arrives that Aegon ultimately gives in and abandons his plans.

“The queen awaits,” the knight says.

In the book, Criston Cole and Aegon spend time exchanging a few more words.

“What kind of a brother steals his sister’s birthright?” Aegon protests.

It’s not until Ser Criston explains to him that the lives of his mother, brother, wife, and children will be in danger that Aegon finally relents. The book made Aegon’s motivations behind his acceptance of his fate much clearer than the show, but I thought the series incorporated a cleverer, show-not-tell way to explain Aegon’s compliance. 

Think of it like this: Aegon’s holding on to the face of the brother whom he failed to protect seven years ago. Then his mother’s sworn protector — the knight who had been more attentive to him than his own father had, the man who watched him grow up — approaches him, putting an arm around his shoulder, saying “the queen awaits”.

At the mention of his mother, Aegon comes to his senses again. We are family, we protect our own. 

If Aegon fled, he would be leaving his family to the wrath of Daemon and Rhaenyra. The only way he can ensure their protection is to stay and become king. It’s the Targaryen Hunger Games. Neither will live while the other survives.

Aegon decides that he would not make the mistake that he made seven years ago at Driftmark. He lets go of his brother and follows Ser Criston.

In stories, heroes separate themselves from villains by being the ones who act out of love instead of ambition. Aegon’s morals are questionable, and he certainly is no saint, but his last act in HOTD season one — the one that would change the course of history — was done out of love.

Why else would he ask “Do you love me?” while Alicent is lecturing him in the carriage on the way to his coronation. He’s saying Look at me mother. I don’t care about the politics, I am doing this just because I love you and I need to know, I’m desperate to know, if you love me too.

I can’t wait to see the route that the show writers would take his character in the later seasons. Aegon is an attention whore, and judging by how he commanded the crowd during the coronation scene, I’m excited to see him in his role as king. I think he’d absolutely have fun pulling rank. I’m the king now so I as might as well milk this position for all it’s worth.

I want to see Unhinged Aegon when Blood and Cheese happens. I want them to show Aegon letting out the most feral scream that even Aemond would stand frozen in shock. I want Aegon promising Helaena that he’s going to kill the ones who murdered their son and swearing that he’d do anything to protect them all from this day onward. (Fate heard him say that they don’t have anything in common and decided to take it up as a challenge.) 

I want them to show Aegon and Helaena coping with the death of their son in their own ways — I want them to show Aegon killing every rat-catcher and Helaena locking herself in her own chamber. I want Aegon to have such a rage and thirst for revenge that Aemond seems almost harmless in comparison. Blood and Cheese awakens a monster in Aegon. Aemond’s mind unravels due to his guilt (Jaehaerys wouldn't be dead if he hadn't killed Luke) and Helaena drowns in her grief. Alicent can do nothing but watch as her daughter becomes a shell of a person and her sons become deranged.

[danmeiarchive]

The Disabled Tyrant’s Pet Palm Fish by Xue Shan Fei Hu -- a brief review (VAGUE spoilers under the cut)

Novel length: 156 chapters

My Rating: ♥♥♥♥½ / 5

This novel is a fun silly romp with plenty of face-slapping and courtroom drama. Overall, this is a fun one and while I enjoyed it very much it is perhaps not one for everyone. Our main character is pretty OP and seemingly able to overcome any and all trials with his powers of being a CUTE MAGIC FISH.

Content warnings and some VAGUE SPOILERS in regard to the disability and representation under the cut.

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What kind of story is The Disabled Tyrant's Pet Palm Fish?

DTPPF is a transmigration story. So anticipate all sorts of transmigration shenanigans and tropes. It's also a story that is clearly meant for fun and not to be taken seriously. But that doesn't mean that it doesn't have heart -- there were a few times I teared up and cried as I got hit right in the feels. This is also a story with mpreg -- something that I hadn't anticipated just from the title and synopsis.

(If you are worried about the mpreg just know that it is vaguely referenced and kinda handwaved in a 'it just works' way. The novel does not go into the how or physiology. It just happens.)

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What about the disability? The tyrant is mute -- and there are some genuine moments of how he struggles with it. There's even a couple moments when he sort of uses his muteness to his advantage. It is an integral part of his character as it has changed how others treat and perceive him. It also affects his life in the imperial palace and his right of inheritance as one of the emperor's sons. It does not feel like an afterthought. That being said please check below the cut to see some more of my thoughts on this matter.

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Overall while this story does have a good amount of courtroom intrigue, drama, and backstabbing I'm still left feeling that it's a fairly lighthearted and fluffy story. I think this is mostly due to how seemingly easily and consistently our main character and his love interest are able to solve the problems they run into. It was also terribly endearing as the reader to see the tyrant falling desperately in love and just wanting to tell the main character that he is loved and that he accepts him no matter what kind of creature he is.

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Who are the main characters?

Without going into details here's a little bit about our main squad:

Li Yu aka Xiao Yu - the main character of our tale, he is a modern young man transmigrated into a webnovel he had been reading... but as the protagonist's fish! He is tasked with helping the tyrant but how can he help when he is but a small fish? He gets creative and gains some special abilities that allow him to help cause chaos and help the tyrant before eventually he is able to regain his human form for a certain amount of time. (He is referred to as "Xiao Yu" at first by the tyrant as he is a "small fish" (xiao = small, yu = fish.))

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Mu Tianchi aka Jing Wang - the protagonist of the novel Li Yu had been reading. His name is Mu Tianchi but is often referred to by his title "Jing Wang" especially at the beginning of the novel. He is said to have been born mute and as such he is not considered as a viable heir to the throne. This does keep him out of some courtroom drama but certainly not all of it. As the other brothers are fighting, scheming, and taking each other out Mu Tianchi does continue to prove to be very capable and difficult to manipulate. He also goes above and beyond when it comes to spoiling both "Xiao Yu" (the fish) and Li Yu (his human form).

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Wang Xi - protagonist's eunuch / advisor / assistant / caretaker. He's incredible and deserves so many props. He would do anything to help Mu Tianchi and Li Yu. I don't have much to say about him other than I don't know what Mu Tianchi and Li Yu would have done if Wang Xi had turned against them.

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Chu Yanyu - the original love interest of the tyrant in the novel. I won't spoil things but I will say I wanted to yeet this character every time he showed up. Just when you think you've seen the last of him he. keeps. showing. up.

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What is the plot of The Disabled Tyrant's Pet Palm Fish?

The plot of The Disabled Tyrant's Pet Palm Fish follows Li Yu's journey on regaining his human form, helping prevent certain events he knows about from the novel, uncovering the conspiracies and mysteries from Mu Tianchi's past, and securing Mu Tianchi's place as crown prince. Meanwhile Mu Tianchi and Li Yu fall in love with each other of course.

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Small critiques

I've only read this title once (so far) but unlike Silent Reading and Heaven Official's Blessing, I feel like DTPPF doesn't really have clear arcs in terms of where one book would end and the next would start -- I will be curious to see how Seven Seas splits this one up into volumes.

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There are some characters that never get names. This is not the only webnovel I've read where this happens but every time it happens I'm a little disappointed. Like, on one hand it can be hard to keep track of a ton of characters and their names but... it also is just so weird to me whenever a character continues to show up but is only referred to as "the scarred man" or in the case of this novel "the princess of JinJue." She's a pretty great character but she never got a name!

I do hope that when Seven Seas releases their translation that they will include a character list like they have in other books to help keep track of everyone. Because when the emperor's sons are mentioned sometimes it's by their birth order or title and sometimes it's by name. And of course they all have similar names (they even share a generation name -- Mu TianZhao, Mu TianMing, Mu TianChi, Mu TianXiao, etc).

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Click 'keep reading' to see more on the disability (VAGUE SPOILERS) and trigger warnings.

Disability representation in the novel

Without going into the HOW and WHY I feel it is important to mention that Mu Tianchi's disability is CURED pretty late in the novel. While I did find the outcome touching (when the main character hears the tyrant's first words and how the tyrant feels upon finally being able to speak) I think that this could be a touchy subject. I think that the novel could have not had the tyrant be cured and I would have enjoyed it just as much. And I imagine that if you're a person with a disability and or chronic illness that is reading a story where a main character struggles with his own -- only to end up magically and conveniently cured of his disability -- that it could be frustrating.

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There is also discrimination against Mu Tianchi for his disability -- he isn't considered a viable heir for the throne because he is mute, even if he is the best choice. Also since he has this disability the other characters (and the tyrant himself) worry that his children would also be disabled.

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content warnings: there's several times when jokes are made about bestiality (and a couple characters assume that Mu Tianchi's feelings towards his fish are not strictly platonic).

There is also various attempts of harm towards young children that might inherit the throne including poison, kidnapping, and threat of physical harm. Similarly, there are attempts at drugging (with aphrodisiacs, getting someone overly drunk, etc) and dubious consent situations -- (however this does not occur between our main couple). This is done in hopes of earning someone's favor, forcing them to take responsibility, and or moving up in rank and society.

There is also a character that was taken as a concubine (against her will) after her kingdom was defeated in war. All of this seems fairly standard to courtroom drama stories but I figured it would be good to mention. If you've also read this novel and think I've left some cw out let me know and I'll add them to this list.

Another user pointed out that the character of the JinJue princess is 16-- so there's some setting compliant marriages / relationships with folks who are under 18 years old. I would be surprised if she was the only character this applied to but I can't remember others right at this moment.

[dell-amor-te]

“The Hare, the Crow, & the Unhappy Marriage”

Word Count: 5,906.

Warning(s): Spoilers for what’s been revealed in pre-released content, canon-typical combat depictions, no beta but I try my best.

Pairing: F!Rook x Lucanis Dellamorte. 

Summary: Lucanis takes on a major contract and makes an acquaintance he’ll never forget. (Also known as “the Lucanis and Nöa pre-canon cringefail meetcute that won that poll forever ago that I finally finished.”)

🐦‍⬛ Read on ao3.

9:51, Dragon.

Minrathous, the Thalsian Estate.

“It was a lovely service, Magister Thalsian. A perfect coda for the loss of a titan of our empire. Worthy of a man of your father’s standing.”

She stood still and poised like a marble statue in the moonlight gardens, waiting for any sign of life from the younger man standing before her. His black-clad back remained affixed in her direction while he stared up at an actual, imposingly tall marble statue that was carved in his father’s image.

Larger than life, much like the now deliciously departed Festus Thalsian, Sr.

His living junior always seemed small next to his father, but the statue’s towering height made the discrepancy almost comical.

Once she was certain he would not answer to her first statement, she cleared her throat, making another: “I imagine, as the newly appointed representative of one of the Imperium’s oldest and most respected families, you must be feeling quite proud somewhere underneath your grief.”

A beat, a reconsidered addendum to follow, but not a misstep.

“Somewhere amidst all that grief, of course.”

Nothing still.

Now she was growing impatient.

Again, then.

“I—”

“What do you want, Magister Renata?”

“So formal, my lord.”

Zara smiled easily, taking the break in his silence as her invitation to come stand at his side in the looming presence of his father’s cold and impassive homage. He gave her a not-so-veiled look of derision before his face turned down once more, his tired eyes further fatigued by dark circles under them.

She took a chance to take a proper look at the statue. While the flesh and bone Festus was already ashes stuffed into a gauche urn and shoved on a mantle somewhere in the grand Thalsian estate, this monument would remain in the family’s private and labyrinthine gardens; his perpetual company would be the other members of the family tree who had been so honored.

Forever able to give his son those same withering glances he always had.

“He looks as proud as your father always did of you.” Zara lied smoothly.

“Again: what do you want, Zara?”

“Tut, tut, Festus. Is it so wrong to want to offer you my condolences in person?”

“It is when the funerary services were a private family affair.” His reply was as stiff yet spineless as his current stance.

“I almost married your uncle.”

“But you didn’t. How did you manage to secure an invitation?”

“Oh, I still see him every so often.”

Festus sighed haggardly.

“Really, I’m hurt, Festus.”

“And I’m still left wondering why you’re here. You must want something. You always do.”

Zara chuckled. “See, you do know me.” She said, though it brought Festus no pleasure to be so praised.

To wit, then.

“Your father’s death creates a power vacuum in the Magisterium that having a son and heir to take his seat will only quell for so long. Your father cast quite a large shadow.”

“And we all know I don’t have what’s needed to fill it.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” She chided with practiced gentleness.

Not here, anyway.

Zara clapped her hands together. “You are more than capable of rising to his heights, Festus. He and my father began their time in the Magisterium together, if you’ll recall. Neither one of them was anything more than we two are now when they began.”

Festus studied her with wariness, like she was an asp—a shining smile hiding fangs ready to strike. While she may have been missing the fangs, she certainly managed to hold the same venom and sharp tongue.

“True enough. But my father had exploits no other mage in our family could hope to replicate. So grand that they made up for his few shortcomings.”

Such as the fact that neither of the sons he produced were born Dreamers.

Zara closed the gap between them, heels clicking authoritatively against the cobblestone. “Then why not show our peers why you’re the heir to the Thalsian name?” She challenged.

“We all know why. It’s certainly not because of my own merit.” Festus snorted, looking to the memorial statue again for a moment.

“And why can’t it be?” Zara asked sharply, shoving one perfectly painted nail into his chest, right into his very heart. “Because you’re going to show them that you’re capable of righting even your unimpeachable father’s wrongs. What could be a finer tribute to his legacy?”

Festus’ brow twitched.

“I’ve had the pleasure of reading some of his notes on Dreamers and the ancient elves, you know.” Zara informed him. “He was onto something with those experiments of his. I know you know that—he mentioned you in his writings.”

“Yes, but if you’ve truly read them—and I won’t even question how—then you know he abandoned them.”

“Yes, because he lost his two prized lab rats. Or should I say lab rabbits?”

“You could say that. But it would be incredibly on the nose of you.” Festus’ own nose crinkled in distaste. “They weren’t just prized. You must have seen the records and ledgers, too. He almost bankrupted our family on purchasing hundreds of different brutes over the years. They were the only two who weren’t only viable, but exceptional.”

“Indeed. His golden goose and lucky rabbit. What’s the elven for that again?”

The younger mage’s spine stiffened with a sharp intake of breath.

“This is a moot point.” He said quickly. “The mother was killed by my father.”

“But the little rabbit escaped. Obviously.” Zara scoffed.

He scoffed right back.

“Come now, Festus, surely you don’t take me for a fool.” She crossed her arms, resolute. “Elves might not be rare in this city, much as we all like to pretend, but elves who bear those savage markings are rare indeed. And I doubt it’s a coincidence that this one goes by a moniker that happens to match the name your father gave her when he came into possession of her.”

Festus set his brow. He wouldn’t indulge her.

“Glower all you like, but I know you must be aware of her exploits.”

“Oh, and what makes you so confident?”

“Because the Magisterium won’t acknowledge what’s happened. A rogue rattus ran about, a runaway, stealing others property and setting it free? And no one can seem to catch her? And then she vanishes into thin air? You know as well as I how our colleagues love their gossip, and they won’t even dare to speak of her. They’re embarrassed.” She nodded. “Just as you keep quiet. Because you habor some sentiment for your lost pet.”

Festus’ cheeks burned red, catching as quickly as a wildfire from a firebolt gone awry.

“You’re hardly the first man in this city to get a little too attached to one of the family pets.”

“That’s quite the accusation to make without any sort of proof.”

“Is that right? Tell me, isn’t that locket you refuse to let leave your neck made of ironbark? Or am I mistaken?”

She, of course, was never mistaken.

Festus said nothing, confirming her suspicions without so much as uttering a single syllable.

“It has her portrait inside of it, no doubt.” Zara spoke in a disinterested tone, picking at one of her nails with another nail before strolling away from the statue.

She kept walking until she reached the balcony overlooking the rest of the gardens below, draping her back against the cool stone of the baluster, the cape attached to her gown lying tastefully of the smooth barrier. She smiled knowingly when she turned to find Festus close at heel, absently fiddling with the locket in question.

“You’re proposing I get her back and continue with my father’s plans.”

It wasn’t a question.

“This world needs Dreamers. More importantly, the Imperium needs Dreamers.” Zara mused, smiling as if he had missed his own joke. “And it should be the Imperium who brings them to life.” She heaved a dispassionate sigh. “It’s a pity that such pristine breeding must be tainted so by lesser, wild blood, but we all have to make sacrifices for the greater good of Tevinter.”

Festus met her at the balcony at last, his arm supporting him as he leaned in and considered her words. He never had managed to learn how to read her. She remained as lost to him as an esoteric tome from eras bygone and best left forgotten. And yet he couldn’t stop trying to understand.

If not an understanding, then at least to twist to his advantage.

“She may be persona non grata throughout the Imperium, but people will catch on if I or my men go hunting her bounty, no matter how we try to spin it. And then there will be no Dreamers. Do you intend to offer my men aid?”

“For the right price, of course, darling. And believe me, once payment is confirmed, I’ll happily use every tool in my arsenal to help you. In fact, I’ll have a new shiny toy soon enough, if all goes to plan. And once the blade’s been honed, I’m certain there won’t be anything standing between you and your little rabbit’s sweet reunion.”

“I’m sure that price tag must be hefty. I did mention my father’s spending habits nearly bankrupted our family, didn’t I?”

“Oh, but who can appraise the priceless gift of acclaim that will accompany being the man to reestablish the Dreamers in the bloodline of the First Dreamer himself?”

“You, I’m assuming. Or you think you can, anyway.”

“It’s a trifle, truly, in comparison to having your precious little—”

“Zara.”

She heaved a sigh. “My father has designs to marry me to some cadet branch from a particular family—one who has recently joined with those traitors, the Lucerni.” At Festus’ pointed look, she waved a dismissive hand. “He’s desperate, and he’ll see the contract through even to them for the sake of creating alliances. Unless someone can make a better offer, of course…”

“And you’re short of suitors.” Festus assumed.

“Not if a certain newly-minted magister puts in his bid. I hear he’ll be plagued with marriage offers come daybreak. And won’t all those pesky marriage interviews keep him from his true passion—his studies?”

It was a grim prospect, one the more introverted Festus didn’t relish.

Zara moved in closer, her breath warm against his cheeks as she whispered in his ear. “Besides, this potential Dreamer will need a more…tamed mother, won’t they? One who won’t ask questions or betray the existence of her sweet husband’s…” Her head bobbled as she considered the best phrasing. “Well…less-than-appropriate mistress?”

Festus hid his repulsion for the woman hanging on his arm under a thinly-veiled feint of consideration. It would be a lie to say he hadn’t thought of her everyday since her unfair escape from his family’s estate. Dark-bright eyes oft haunted his dreams. They haunted his waking hours, too. It was a lie he kept close to his chest.

What he wouldn’t give just for the chance of seeing her again…

“It’s traditional for my family to marry at the end of the year, during the holiday festivals.” He informed her. “Now, would you like to share this plan of yours with your fiancé?”

Zara smiled knowingly.

…

The memory played again and again in his mind.

I’ll never forgive you.

I understand.

Lucanis Dellamorte sighed.

The toes of his boots hung off the edge of the rooftop by mere centimeters.

Below him, the city of Minrathous danced at its full tilt. Lights of magical-illumination. Bursting pubs. Beggars in the gutter. Unaware of his presence, and yet Lucanis knew better than to let his guard drop. He certainly couldn't while he was here, not while he was in unfamiliar territory.

Vyrantium was one thing. Minrathous was another beast entirely.

But his target was here, and so he had come.

His target.

Zara Renata. Newlywed of Magister Festus Thalsian, the junior of a recently deceased father. A brave match that could see the Empire forward for generations with the heights they could reach together.

Unless Lucanis got to work, that is.

Little was known about the Thalsian family almost in spite of how well-known they were. What was known beyond their names and prestige was limited to what its members allowed outsiders to know. They were prideful, ever seeking more power and power beyond. This fact was likely not helped by their connection to the first recorded priest of Dumat. The lack of any other concrete information about the family as a whole—not to mention individual members—was frustrating for Lucanis.

He hadn’t been able to fill even a full page with what paltry intel he had been able to gather before journeying to Minrathous. In a perfect world, he would have had another week to do some more footwork, perhaps even a day or two to observe the Thalsian estate before he ever crossed the threshold.

But the world was not perfect, and Lucanis had not been consulted on setting a date for this particular wedding.

While the Thalsian family remained obfuscated, the Renata family was much more prone to chase the spotlight. They were a moderately affluent house, but this union would no doubt do wonders to elevate their standing in the Imperium.

The last time he had crashed a wedding, it had ended with the father-of-the-bride dead before Lucanis was mysteriously spirited away from the festivities.

Even as unfamiliar as Minrathous was to him, Lucanis was able to follow the interconnecting alleyways easily enough. A fancy manor in this city was much like a tree in a forest or sand on the beach, even with the special occasion being held at this household. Lucanis was able to find the Thalsian estate with little trouble, and without detection.

The serpentine crest wrought into the black-iron gate of the estate confirmed the proud owners of the home. Sneaking inside undetected amidst the sea of well-wishers and wedding guests was one of the easier maneuvers Lucanis had executed in his time as a Crow.

And so he found himself in much a similar position as the one he was in out on the streets, tucked up and out of the way on a makeshift perch. Rather than a seedy and rain-slicked rooftop, he found security behind a granite-carved serpent, an eave mounted high about the festivities below, stuck in an indefatigable vigil over the decorated and gilded ballroom.

He was charming in a disarming sort of way, Lucanis could see that much from his current vantage point.

The magister’s smile was ostentatious. It wanted your attention—no, demanded it. It was bright, flashy, like vibrant scales that warned potential prey of poison lurking in the body of a predator, just waiting for the one foolish enough to fall to its charms.

It certainly didn’t help that his looks would appeal to anyone.

“You’re sure it’s secured?” He asked with minimal movement of his lips—Lucanis just barely made out what he was saying to his new bride.

Zara Renata offered a much more practiced, poisonous smile as she made to meet her groom. “Of course, darling. She’s downstairs with the rest of the wedding presents.” She said, lip movements less covert than Festus’.

Festus stiffened then, but nodded with a certain eagerness that Lucanis found raising his hackles. The shine that overtook the magister’s eyes did nothing to set Lucanis at ease. There was a hunger—an affection, if it could truly be called that—that had been missing from every moment spent with his bride, even while he bound himself to her.

The bride herself, however, did not share Lucanis’ offense.

“I must admit, she’s prettier than I expected. I can almost see the appeal. Almost.” Zara told her newly-wedded husband, hooking her arm in his. “She shouted something at me in that blasted tongue of theirs. So uncouth.”

Surely they didn’t mean…

Lucanis cursed the magisters under his breath. Both of them—for good measure.

Though his mind immediately set to lecturing him, reminding him that he had a job to do and his window to do it and get out was closing with each step the couple took toward their marriage bed, his heart and legs rallied all the stronger. He left his serpentine perch with a soundless leap, heading into the first corridor he saw with a descending set of stairs, mindful of each step.

His gut lurched with each repetition in his ears of those words as they played over and over again in his mind.

Wedding presents. Wedding presents. Weddings presents.

He heard Illario’s words in his ears, too, ringing like a warning bell, tolling and warning him away from a course he was already on.

We’re not heroes, cousin.

Lucanis kept close to the ancient stone walls. For all the variations in façades, Tevinter homes above a certain degree of nobility and prestige all had similar layouts. Wine cellars often masked more nefarious rooms—holding cells. Often barely distinguishable from the house servants’ sleeping quarters, though they sported chains and shackles the quarters did not.

The sounds of the wedding party slipped away from him as he neared the false wall of casks, and a hushed conversation filled his ear instead. He knelt down behind the end of a row of casks that acted as the mouth to a slip of hallway leading to the unlit cells beyond.

His brow twitched as he listened in.

“Oh, hush, Strife! I’ll have us out of here in no time.”

“Didn’t you say those things were untested? What if you tip off the whole damn household?” A man’s deep cadence questioned.

Whoever he was, Lucanis could hear the years in his voice. The certainty was unusual, raising Lucanis’ eyebrow. Most caught up in the slave system of Tevinter didn’t sound so confident, especially if they had years under their belt.

“Please. I can hear the band playing from here, which means they might as well be deaf up there. Besides, the mister and missus should be making their way to the marriage bed by now. Now stand back, will you? Just in case.”

The second voice was distinctly feminine, sporting an accent that sounded slightly Nevarran to color her words. It was clear she was well-acquainted with the man she spoke with, given the familiarity in her tone.

In the low light of the pocket hall, Lucanis couldn’t quite make out what was happening, and he certainly didn’t come to terms with it until after it had happened. A bright flash of light—completely soundless—exploded into the air. Unprepared, Lucanis flinched away, pressing his forefinger and thumb into his eyes to alleviate the discomfort.

It took everything in him not to curse aloud.

Beyond the wall, the conversation continued.

“Ye of little faith.” The woman declared smugly. “I tell ya, people in this town are too obsessed with figuring out how to use magic to stop time, or turn it back, or how to manipulate people using their own blood. A little bit of creativity, and they’d actually be a threat.”

“It’s not little faith in you, brains. It’s little interest in having your old man turn me into a walking dead man if he finds out I let a Thalsian get hands on you. Again.”

“Good thing I’m going to kill Thalsian, then. Two Thalsian’s, now.” A pause. “You know that’s not what my father does, right?”

“Don’t try to explain it to me again, please. It’s weird.”

“Only in places that aren’t Nevarra.”

“Yeah, which is everywhere else in Thedas. Come on, let’s liberate our fellow man and get outta here.”

“After y—”

The pair went quiet.

While Lucanis blinked away the after effects of the shocking surprise, his vision still a colorful daze as though he had looked directly into the sun, a pair of thighs wrapped around his neck. The Crow cursed that time, shifting his focus on getting this unseen person off of him.

His hand instinctively went for one of the knees, hoping to disbalance and then sling his assailant off of him. Instead of loosening grip, their knees closed in, ankles locking for extra security.

He couldn’t catch his breath. If they had half a mind, no doubt they could twist their lower half and take his neck right along with them. At such an angle it would be unlikely to kill him, but he still didn’t relish the thought of a neck ache or the accompanying headache.

He just had to catch them by surprise.

And so Lucanis struggled to his feet, balancing precariously with the added weight on his shoulders.

And then he let himself fall backwards.

His piggybacker made a tactical decision to protect themself from injury—rather than keeping a hold on him and risk hurting their own back, their legs released his neck, allowing the attacker time needed to roll out into a safer position just before they both hit the marble floor.

“Bloody shem!” The woman’s voice was warm against his neck.

The woman from the cell, he saw now.

Before either of them could make another move, laughter echoed off the stony walls.

“Take it easy on the poor guy, Nöa.” A tall, muscled elven man, the owner of the male voice Lucanis had heard, chuckled amicably, standing over them in their entangled heap. “I don’t think he’s interested in hurting either of us.”

Lucanis said nothing, only offering an easy smirk in reply once his coughing subsided and allowed him to. He rubbed at his neck absently.

“Oh, forgive the mistake—I saw a figure in black and my brain assumed Thalsian guard.” The woman, Nöa, chuckled easily, offering him a hand up as soon as she was back on her feet.

Lucanis considered the outstretched gloved hand for a moment, before accepting.

“Sorry for trying to choke you, by the way.” She added quickly. “I usually buy people dinner before I start wrapping my thighs around their neck.”

“No, no. I don’t mind…”

Strife snorted, and despite the smug look on her face, the woman blushed. When he realized what he had said, Lucanis cleared his throat.

“Are you alright?” He asked instead.

“Hm? Oh. Fancy meeting a friendly here. You’re not to Festus’ tastes, so you must be a gift for the new madame of the house.”

“What? No. I came to help you.” He shook his head. “No.”

Actually, he had come to kill the new madame of the house and her new husband. But here he was. He could almost hear Illario berating him. It was a harmless enough lie, since he knew she was also keen on seeing the sun set on the world with two less magisters in it.

The woman put her hands on her hips, head cocking to the side as she studied him, rounding him like a surveyor. “Hm. You’re obviously not with the Shadow Dragons.”

Her left eye glinted with a mischievous light, its prosthetic partner seeming to reflect the same sentiment despite its inorganic nature.

“Neither are you. Obviously.” He said pointedly, standing straight up as she circled him.

“Oh, and that accent.” She all but crooned, leaning in closer when she rounded back to face him. “Antivan, right?” Conspiratorially, she posited: “I’d wager you’re a Crow, then, given your ensemble? I’ve always wanted to meet a Crow.”

Lucanis’ brow betrayed him by bunching up, belying his bemusement.

What in the Maker’s name is wrong with her?

Before he could do more than open his mouth, she raised a hand to keep him quiet.

His lips pursed.

A pair of Thalsian’s estate guards passed by, but now before the shorter woman had pulled into an alcove, her taller companion already back behind the wall. Lucanis would have protested, but his focus was squarely on the two guards.

The woman’s hand held him in place, pressed into his chest, before her eyes darted to him, then to the guards.

They were drunk, by the way they laughed and hung on one another—unaware. No doubt they had imbibed on their lord’s wedding wine. They didn’t even notice that the elves tucked within the cages held onto doors that were half-open and slowly, carefully closing.

“And then what did he say?”

“Well, he goes—”

Before the guard could finish their tale, Lucanis and the woman moved as one. They both closed the gap carefully. Just before they reached the pair, the woman muttered something—a spell—under her breath.

The pair quieted, then stilled. Lucanis prepared to end the guard on the left with a clean twist of his neck, but the woman stopped him. It was curiosity, not mercy, that stayed him. He watched as she put a rag to the man’s nose.

His eyes rolled back in his head, and then he crumpled to the floor.

She gestured for Lucanis to let go of his quarry, and she repeated the action with the rag.

“Yeah, just like that. Big, old breaths. Really take in those heady notes of felandaris.”

“It’s a paralytic, but I added in a little extra surprise.” Nöa told him. “They won’t remember a thing.” She folded the rag back into her breast pocket. “Totally harmless to the touch, but works a wonder once it’s inhaled.” She explained. “I don’t mind killing where it needs done. These guys are barely more than slaves to the powers that be, though. Might even be indentured.”

Lucanis hummed curtly. She was much more…exuberant…but the way she spoke of the chemical reminded him of Viago. While he could picture her with a similar deadpan, he couldn’t conjure up a Viago so lively, even in his imagination.

“Well, now that that’s settled, you can shake a leg” Nöa nodded her head toward her companion, the man she called Strife.

She stared at him expectantly.

“Me?” Lucanis had to keep his composure. “I don’t know Minrathous well enough to get them out of the city. You clearly do.” Lucanis said. He gestured toward the man with a sweeping arm.

“No can do. I have business here with Thalsian.”

“And I have business with Renata.”

“Alright, you two, that’s enough. This is getting a little too hot for my tastes.” Strife stepped in between them, separating them with his body.

“I assure you, you’re in no danger from me.” He looked from the elf to the shorter, somewhat elven woman. “The only one I’m here to kill a magister.”

“Well, so am I.” She insisted.

“Crows don’t abandon contracts.”

“He’s mine.”

There was so much conviction in her words that Lucanis found himself frozen.

“I’ll get them out of here.” Strife decided at last. “Nöa, do what you have to do—but if it comes to it, let ‘em take the Crow.” He smirked at Lucanis before turning back to his companion, staring her down seriously as his hand found her shoulder. “You get yourself out of here, that way I don’t have an angry necromancer using me for anatomy lessons because I let his daughter get herself nabbed.”

“Your skeletal structure would be very good for articulation lectures.” Nöa mused.

“See, that’s the kind of strange stuff you’ve gotta stop saying.” Despite his words, the man chuckled fondly. “I better be seeing you back at base.

“Jumper’s honor.” She signaled him off with a small wave before turning to Lucanis. “Shall we go ruin a marriage?”

Lucanis followed her, even if he couldn’t help but wonder what exactly he was following her into. He studied her as they slunk back up the stairs. There wasn’t a hint of tension in her shoulders. If it wasn’t for the surreptitious nature of their movements, he would have thought she belonged here.

“How do you know where to go?”

“Who says I do?” She teased.

“Your body.” He said.

“Ser, that implies you’re paying attention.” She hummed, pleased. “Like what you see?”

Lucanis didn’t answer, which made her laugh—quietly, mindful of their situation.

“Let’s just say I’ve spent more time in this house than I want to think about. Thalsian and his bride will be in his chamber. Which will be in the west halls. It’s a whole private suite—belonged to his father before he croaked.”

Lucanis said nothing, pausing when she reached back a hand, holding him in place. She barely reached her head around the end of the corridor leading back to the main ballroom. Then she swore under her breath.

“Venatori.” Nöa told him, turning around to face him with a thoughtful hum.

Her hand didn’t leave his chest.

“Wouldn’t that just ruin the good Magister Thalsian’s name if it got out.” Lucanis noted, raising an eyebrow at her.

She met his gaze. A wolfish, understanding smile struck her features.

“After you, my lady.”

Nöa hummed, pleased, before reaching down and pulling a simple dagger from her belt. It looked like little more than a letter-opener, but she held it with certainty.

“So, were you all invited, or are you the hired help for the night?”

“That mark on her face! It’s the Hare!” One of the agents cried.

“Well, fools! Do your duty. Just don’t kill her—Festus wants her alive.” He sneered, lips twitching. “No doubt he’d prefer her face untouched, too. Her pretty little friend is fair game, however.”

Lucanis glowered, readying his own choice weaponry. “I’ll go left.” He told Nöa, practically growling.

Nöa said nothing, setting to work on the right side of the small troop.

They worked quickly, methodically.

Whoever these Venatori agents were, the spellcasting couldn’t match either of their opponents for speed. Nöa had uttered spells and conjured fire before they could get out more than a syllable. Who she didn’t burn, she stabbed.

Lucanis, meanwhile, showed his foes what a Crow could do. They may as well have been a training exercise compared to contracts he had taken. Forfex came to mind at once, along with a slew of names he couldn’t remember.

“And then there was one.” Nöa said, panting slightly as she leveled her gaze at the magister before them.

“Magister Iranicanus.” The portly man bowed dramatically, unfazed by the efficiency with which his men had been dispatched.

Lucanis wondered if it was pride or sheer arrogance. With magisters, sometimes there was hardly a difference.

“Never heard of you.” Nöa said dryly, stalking toward him.

“How dare—”

With a muttered but committed spell, Nöa had the man frozen, though Lucanis couldn’t see any signs of frost or fractals on the man. She swaggered toward the magister, unfazed, surveying him with a critical glint in her eyes.

Then, she used that particular dagger from her belt to create a simple but deadly cut along the path of his carotid artery. It was precise. Almost surgical. There was no pleasure in it, only a sense of necessity.

Justice.

Within seconds, whatever magic she had used on the man disappeared, and he fell to his knees, then to the floor. Dead at her feet, bleeding freely even after life had left him. That blood trickled down the steps of the altar that had been used to bind two magisters earlier that evening. Now it acted as the resting place of another.

“Well, this was fun.” Nöa decided at last, smiling once again.

Lucanis blinked in surprise, stunned by the sudden feeling of her lips against his cheek for the briefest of moments. He stared at her, eyes wide and lips pursed.

She laughed, no doubt inspired by the look of shock on his face. “What? This poor altar deserved to see at least one proper kiss today. And I’d say you’ve more than earned it.”

“You call that fun?” He asked, still stupefied.

“Well…” She drawled out harmlessly. “At least a magister died today. Right?”

Lucanis sighed. “Now, what do we do about Renata and Thalsian? The whole household will be on alert now.”

“I—”

“Well, don’t just stand there! After her!”

“Like I said.” Lucanis said with absolutely no satisfaction in his voice.

He heard the woman speak in a language unfamiliar but not unknown to his ears: elven. If her tone was any proper indicator, she had cursed.

“Thalsian.”

She reached for a dagger tucked against her waist.

Lucanis grabbed her wrist, shaking his head firmly.

She waved her hand at the door, eyes wide and incredulous.

This was the whole point.

“It’s too public.” Lucanis hissed.

She huffed, frustrated.

“Come on, we need to go.”

“I thought Crows didn’t abandon contracts.”

“We don’t. But we retreat when we know it’s necessary. You can try again if you get out. Not so much if you get killed.”

They were both running out of time.

“Fine.” She grabbed his hand. “Come on, there’s a window with a trellis just up the grand staircase. He never locks it. We can get out through there.”

Lucanis didn’t argue—not with her plan and not with her authority over his hand.

They bounded up the stairs quickly. Nöa climbed into the deep sill of one of the overarching windows, unlatching it and pushing its heft frame open before giving Lucanis a hand up. He joined her, but not before the doors below opened with a resounding crash, tailed by the march of Thalsian guards.

“Hey, Crow. What are you doing?”

He looked over his shoulder, then back at her.

They would follow too easily if he didn’t buy her time.

“Hey, hey!”

He shut the window, ramming one of his daggers into the lock so she couldn’t pry it open. And slammed a fist against the outside of the window, horrified.

He offered her a small smile, and then he dropped out of the sill.

It didn’t take long for those rushing footsteps to reach him.

At least Illario hadn’t come with him, after all.

“Well, well, well…”

It wasn’t Thalsian who had come, after all.

“If it isn’t the Demon himself. This isn’t Vyranitum, you know.”

Lucanis froze, keeping his back to the witch he knew stood behind him.

First the attack on the ship, now this.

The magister ran her fingertip along his chin. “Hello, Master Dellamorte. I’ve been oh so eager to meet you. Seems like someone else gave you a warm greeting, too.”

Her fingertip traced upward to his cheek, removing lipstick red as blood. He knew the cut on his cheek was bleeding, but it took a moment for him to realize the witch now had access to his blood.

Access to him.

“Or was it a bitter farewell, hm?” Zara chuckled, the sound malicious and melodic. “You let the little beast escape. My husband will be disappointed, but, well…that’s not my problem.” She clicked her tongue. “But what to do with you, darling?”

He couldn’t move. Not his hands. Not his legs. He couldn’t lash out. The only thing left untouched by the tendrils of her blood magic was his eyes. She wanted to see his fear. But he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

“I do hope that little act of chivalry tasted sweet while it lasted, Master Dellamorte. And I do hope she was worth it. Though, I suppose one good turn deserves another. I won’t tell my husband she was here. Fair enough?”

Lucanis closed his eyes.

He thought of Illario, and of a summer spent chasing after pretended-wyverns in the mud.

And then he thought of nothing at all.

[docholligay]

The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch

Nonspoilery: This is a super fun read that is very much in keeping with how I like my fantasy. I wish it were slightly more on the con man side, but I recognize that those are very difficult to write because one needs to actually be clever enough to come up with the insanely clever plan that unfolds, and, you know what, I'm not there either. But it absolutely is a fun crimey fantasy novel, well written that expects you can actually follow a line of description and maybe even look up a big word, that tries very hard not to bore you with needing to refer to a glossary or map.

I will say, and I'll talk about this more below: There are basically no women in this novel. it's a little disappointing. I still overall think it's worth it if you like this sort of thing though.

SPOILERS BELOW:

THIS is the kind of thing pitchless draw was made for. You could not have talked me into reading this book. Unless you possess an incredible skill--I'm not sure *I* could have talked me into reading this book, and supposedly no one knows me better.

But I did really enjoy myself. This is a flat out FUN novel, that doesn't mind being long but never feels long. I LOVED the long bits of description in this book, I BEG for flavor in some many modern novels that strip away anything that isn't an immediate moving of the ball. Actually, one of the things I would say that's not a criticism so much as a preference, is that I feel like this book, and probably this writer, remembering his short story from Rogues, is more plot-driven than character driven. I am a girl who loves a really interior novel, and this isn't that, but it did not stop me from having a GREAT time. It's a romp.

I like Locke, and his whole backstory. I wish he were a woman. Specifically, I would love to see a femme con artist, second coming of Minako Aino, Becky Sharp ass bitch. THAT would be my dream for Locke Lamora. And I know my friends who have read this book all want butch Locke and I love that for you, and I know y'all have known me long enough to know I love a butch, but I deserve a treat as well, and I LOVE con artists, and goddamnit, if I could change one thing about this novel, Locke Lamora would be a femme lesbian and I would change NOTHING else. You wouldn't even have to. One fo the great things about Lynch not being a real interior writer is literally any of the mains could be a woman and it would change nothing.

This does segue into the big problem here--there's no women in this novel. It's a 700 page book and I could condense the lines said by women into like two or three pages. I actually DO get it. I think we're reaping a little bit of what we've sown, as a community, with the requirement for perfection in our representation that leads to very boring and safe choices. Everyone is a man. We're only swarthy at best. Can't be criticized for bad identity writing if you don't write them at all! ANd this isn't me being salty, I get how that happens, I have also sometimes fallen into making any character of identity boring as fuck or not writing them at all to avoid any criticism. And no one cares about ME, I'm not a best seller. I do think, maybe, people will get better about this. Pendulums and all. I miss the awkward, good faith 90s where you had the United Colors of Benetton and one character who randomly celebrated Hanukkah. We'll see.

ANYHOW NOT RELEVANT. But I do find it irritating that because of this, we don't see women in this huge story at all. None of the gang, even though it would have been easy as fuck to make, say, Bug a girl. Even doing something like making Nazca Barsavi the actual heir apparent, and to have her marrying Locke because she knows he won't try to be Capa, and she'll let him do whatever the fuck he wants, can play the henpecked husband while being the Thorn of Camorr, could be really fun and would do more for Nazca and also play up their friendship. It could make her death mean a lot more, if they were running their own little Barsavi con.

Anyhow, the really fantastic behind the scenes worldbuilding was how I wish more fantasy novels did it. It didn't often try to explain things to me, it spoke as if I mostly understood them, or had cahracters say them in ways that made sense to the story (In this capacity, Lukas Fehrwright is fucking BRILLIANT as Someone That Must Have Camorr Explained). So I didn't feel like I was being sat down and told the history of a place I barely know, while having stupid fucking vocabulary words thrown at me. We never define any physik or magic beyond what needs be done because fuck you that's why. I love it. Thank you for not telling me what alchemical botany can or can't do. Thank you for dropping literally only what I need to kjnow about wraithstone into the plot. You have a crown in heaven.

Or I know I said I wish it would have been more con-ny and less "kill the new mob boss" at the end there, but oh my fuck, how much did I love the whole job at the counting house. I SCREAMED. It was so good, I had no clue where it was going the whole time and I would never have gotten there, but I LOVED it. What a great time.

One...weakness, for me, I guess I'll say, is that lack of interiority makes it hard to really feel the weight of some things. We don't get enough about Galdo, Calo, or Bug to feel anything for them, and I knew Bug was dead from the time he showed up. Actually, I thought we were going to kill jean Tannen, because that was the only relationship REALLY laden with emotional weight in the book. Didn't bother me enough to not recommend the book, as I'm mostly recommending it on fun, but I did notice.

ANYWAY, uh...any specific questions I'm happy to take!

Unfortunately, this means that @verbforverb nabbed me again. So, I had a great time reading the book but at what cost

[lavender-long-stories]

🌸 Innocent & Guilty 🌸

Spoilers for Why Is It Always You? | Chapter 1 | Rated T

Hinata Hyuga ignored him as she passed him down the hall, darting her eyes away when hers accidentally met his. She then turned a big fake smile to one of the two oddballs that followed her around.

Pompous bitch.

Beating her always had a certain sweetness to it. Even if it was easy, it knocked her down a peg. She was like every other entitled rich girl. No one believed him because she was too good at hiding it behind her innocent, ‘shy girl’ routine.

Why would she participate in the pageant every year if she wasn’t vain? Why would she volunteer for every after-school project if she wasn’t boasting? Why would she run for student council if she wasn’t full of herself?

Sasuke would love to crack that perfect little mask she wore and show everyone just how conniving and scheming she really was, but he was the only one who saw the hate in her eyes when she looked at him.

A project for another day. He refreshed his screen, but still no messages, and he had to get to class.

Spoilers for Why Is It Always You? | Chapter 3 | Rated T

Sasuke sighed loudly and crossed his arms. “Maybe dropping an activity or two. You might have some time to eat.” Hinata gave him a look as she signed the clipboard before leaving, walking out of the clinic without answering him. He followed her out closely, not letting her get away without his own lecture. “Or have you decided that the reason you didn’t win the pageant last year was because you weren’t skinny enough?”

Hinata threw a nasty look at him. He didn’t know anything. “Sasuke-san, I don’t want to talk about it!”

Sasuke seemed unsurprised by her outburst and just glared at her with everything she already knew. He hated her just as much as she hated him. “I should have left you on the concrete.”

Hinata stopped, turning to him and bowing her head. “Thank you for taking care of me.” She paused for only a moment before continuing her trek to the library. She knew it sounded insincere, but she really didn’t have the time to argue with him. She was just praying that the library wasn’t locked.

Sasuke stopped her again when they got to the door, holding it closed.

Hinata jerked on it, but he was stronger than her. “What?”

“You lost because people see through your innocent act.” Sasuke lowered his head to her level.

“Thank you for informing me.” Hinata spat back. “I need to get home!” She shoved him back, opening the door and dashing to gather her things. By the time she was done, Sasuke had caught up with her and grabbed his own bag. She didn’t stay to get another lecture. She would get it when she got home.

Spoilers for Why Is It Always You? | Chapter 6 | Rated T

“She hates that pageant.” Shikamaru’s voice came in from behind, sounding bored as ever but somehow colder than usual. “Her father makes her compete.”

“Her father makes her do a lot of things.” So did his mother. It was part of the culture of being an heir. She couldn’t blame her father for everything.

Shikamaru stopped sweeping and looked up at him with ice in his eyes. “He smacked across the face for getting third place in the overall ranking last year.” Sasuke paused to look at him. He wasn’t feeling all that sympathetic right now. “The cut she had on her cheek last week was from him hitting her with something.”

Sasuke rolled his eyes. “Did she tell you that?”

Shikamaru shook his head. “No, she lied.”

What was the point of that? “Then how do you know?”

“Because she always has the same look in her eyes she always does when she lies about her father,” Shikamaru answered. “She has a similar look when she talks about you.” He went back to sweeping. “Stop commenting about her eating. She eats fine. She’s just doing too much. She needs rest.”

“Then she should stop doing something,” Sasuke countered.

Shikamaru didn’t correct him again. Just gave him a single disappointed look. They both knew that he was smart enough to make the conclusion Shikamaru was pushing.

Sasuke huffed, looking out the door. With his rage subsiding, yeah, maybe calling her useless was a bit much, but he didn’t know how much he believed that she did everything just because it was what her dad wanted.

He groaned, dumping the last of the disposable cups and plates in the trash before heading toward the door, passing into the cold of the night. He couldn’t see her, but he could hear her crying.

Sasuke followed gasps and miserable muffled whimpers to the side of the building, where he found her in a sea of her golden tulle curled up on the pavement, shriveled down, bawling in the knees. Her shoes were discarded like she pulled them off and tossed them weakly. She covered her sobs with her hands like it might help to conceal her.

His stomach twisted, watching her mask slip. This wasn’t what he meant.

Sasuke backed behind the corner before she could notice he was there. She wasn’t going to want to talk to him now. An apology wasn’t going to fix this.

🌸 SasuHina Month 2024 - Day 21 🌸

@sasuhinamonth

[rayan12sworld]

Right now this fanfic is about 2 part ,part 1 is 14 chapter, it's about lan wangji that can hear lies when some one say it

~~~~~

💖💙in the shadow of moonlit flowers

By:Reverie (cl410)

Summary:

It was a curse, some said. A gift, according to others. But Lan Zhan considered it neither a gift nor a curse; it was simply a part of him, the same as his golden core.

But he would treasure it either way, because it was his mother's greatest gift to him, and her last.

Chapter:14/14

Words:56,683

Status:completed

Author's tumblr:@i-like-plan-m (spoiler a head)

Wei Ying’s laugh rang over the courtyard, bright and cheerful as he slung an arm over Jiang Wanyin’s shoulders, ignoring the sect heir’s incensed protests. “Don’t lie, shidi, I know you love me!” The lie sounded like a gong in Lan Zhan’s head, startling him so badly that he flinched, stumbled to an awkward stop, and whipped his head around to stare at Wei Ying, who was for once paying him no attention. His ever-present smile was in place, nothing false or fixed about it. Wei Ying wore happiness and humor like armor, and Lan Zhan wondered suddenly if anyone had ever seen past it. He hadn’t… until now.

~

I know you love me. The low, booming signal of Wei Ying’s lie was significant for two reasons: the timing, and the strength of the sound. The greater the lie, the louder the noise, and this one had left a painful echo in Lan Zhan’s ears from the force of it. And the timing… the lie had been marked on a single word: love. I know you love me. But Wei Ying did not believe this, not even a little. Lan Zhan… did not know what to do with this revelation.

😭😭😭

~~

Lan Zhan stared at his hands. “You like him.” “I— what does that have to do with—” He broke off, pinching the bridge of his nose in a rare display of frustration. “Wangji, is this about Mingjue?” “No,” Lan Zhan said, mutinous, but Lan Huan was still talking, gently explaining, “I will soon be an opposing sect leader, Wangji. Even with the sect’s good relations with Qinghe, our relationship could never be…” He paused. Took a deep breath. Barely repressed grief bled off of him like waves. “We have a duty to our respective sects; Mingjue and I would always be torn in two different directions. It was a mutual decision to no longer pursue our relationship.” “Is it not worth it?” Lan Zhan challenged. Lan Huan drew back, eyes wide from the force of his response, but he forged on, emotions bubbling over too fast to contain. “You once said he was the other half of your soul, but now you smile at a stranger like you did Mingjue-ge. You listen to his lies.” “It isn’t that simple, Wangji—” “No.” Lan Zhan’s voice was so sharp that Lan Huan’s mouth snapped shut. “You like him, so you didn’t listen to me.” “Lan Zhan—” “You ignored me. You said that I lied.” Lan Zhan jerked to his feet, fumbling with his qin as his breath came faster, hitching in his chest. He angled his head so Lan Huan would not see the hurt on his face but wasn’t quite fast enough; Lan Huan made a stricken sound and moved instinctively towards him.

Lan Zhan stepped out of reach. “It hurts me to hear him talk,” he whispered, hating himself for the waver in his voice. “But you ignored me.” He left before the burning behind his eyes could spill over, before his brother’s tangible anguish and remorse could deter him from the truth. Before the emotion rising like a tidal wave in his chest came crashing down and ruined everything

~~meng yao b**** how can you hurt my baby

By your lie ,lan xichen whyyyyyyyy 😭😭😭😭

Notes: Meng Yao: *breathes* LWJ: *loudly plays the “A BITCH IS LYING” song*

~~~~

Since the day his gift had been woven into his golden core, Lan Zhan had never once wished to hear a lie. He could never have even fathomed a situation in which he would prefer dishonesty. Not until Wei Ying. Because sometimes, Wei Ying’s truths hurt worse to hear than his lies.

~

Wei Ying sent him a winning smile, the kind that lit his entire face and turned his eyes into crescents. Lan Zhan’s heart thudded once, hard, in his chest. Oh. “You broke curfew to feed wild rabbits,” Lan Zhan repeated slowly. Exhilaration rushed through his veins, a dizzying contradiction to the slow swoop of his stomach. Oh. Love, Lan Zhan discovered abruptly, felt like hurtling from the sky and experiencing nothing but quiet, tender joy the whole way down.

~

His own brother had fallen victim to it, however briefly, so what was to stop the others from doing the same? He had no formal ties to Qinghe Nie, nothing beyond a welcome that could be revoked, a place that could be taken by someone who knew all things people wanted to hear, regardless of the truth. Emptiness pressed in on him, the world suddenly stark and hollow and loud, so loud, a cacophony of lies that never ended, just got louder and louder and— —stopped, the world falling abruptly silent as he crashed straight into Wei Ying, whose arms windmilled as he valiantly tried and failed to remain on his feet.

~

“Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying stepped closer, eyes searching his face. Lan Zhan still didn’t know what his face was doing, but it clearly wasn’t good. Wei Ying’s eyes widened, worry drawing lines around his mouth and eyes. “Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan choked out, the frostbite burn searing his heart. “What is it?” Wei Ying's hands fluttered uselessly around him as his anxiety spiked. “What happened?” He hesitated— afraid, so afraid— but said Meng Yao’s name between gritted teeth, suddenly desperate to know if Meng Yao had taken this from him, too, if he had stolen his first and only love while Lan Zhan hadn’t been paying attention. “Um. Who?” Wei Ying asked, clearly baffled, and vicious relief hit Lan Zhan so fast he swayed. Wei Ying made a noise of alarm and lunged forward, hands cupping Lan Zhan’s elbows to steady him even as Lan Zhan let his head drop to Wei Ying’s shoulder with a rough exhale

~

"He still breaks rules.”

"Yes. He is… I believe A-Xian is searching for the limits,” she said, too soft to carry beyond the hushed air between them, a space for secrets to surface from the depths. The trees cast long shadows above her that pooled in the hollows of her cheeks and eyes, carving fierce angles into her delicate face. Something about her tone, the odd, sinking melody carrying her words to him made Lan Zhan hesitate. Here, in this space between them, the truth felt like an ugly, dangerous thing, too terrible to look at directly as it unfolded, piece by piece. He gathered his courage. “The limits?” “The punishments here… he is looking for the limit, for whatever it takes to finally provoke the reaction he is expecting to find.” He could not see her face, carefully angled as it was, but that buried truth still stuck in her throat like a blade, staining her words crimson. His own words felt like they were scraped out of him when he found his voice again. “What is he expecting to find?” Jiang Yanli raised her head and looked at him, face ironed into a grim stillness. “Violence, Lan-er-gongzi,” she said, the blade freed. “He is expecting violence.” Her answer was resolute, unwavering. Her honesty sent a shiver of pain through him, the blade unsheathed with a ruthlessness that left them both bleeding. Lan Zhan pressed his hands into the bench seat, the wood groaning and splintering beneath his grip. He did not try to staunch the flow from this new wound, one of many gashes left by an excruciating truth— a reality he’d never thought possible before Wei Ying. Instead Lan Zhan held fast, anchored in place by the same principles upon which he’d built his world.

~

Lan Zhan frowned. When he must return home. A twinge, a faint lilting note in the soft song that carried her words to him. Must. Lan Zhan’s heart thudded hard in his chest. When Wei Ying must return home– but that was not wholly true. Wei Ying did not have to return home. Wei Ying had a choice, whether he realized it or not. But— No. No, Wei Ying had a choice, but it was up to Lan Zhan to make this choice known to him. That tiny kernel of hope inside him sparked, glowing brighter with Jiang Yanli’s offering. Her selflessness astounded him— Lan Zhan could not imagine a world in which he willingly encouraged someone to take Wei Ying from him. But he had not been raised within the torrent of Madam Yu’s judgment and displeasure. Lan Zhan dipped his head in understanding; Jiang Yanli was trying to save Wei Ying from her mother’s towering rage before it broke him entirely, knowing he would never willingly leave his siblings.

"No matter how many times he finds trouble here, Lan-er-gongzi,” Jiang Yanli murmured, watching their approach, “please know that A-Xian only invests time and attention to the places he loves— because the better he knows a place, the safer he feels.” Lan Zhan’s breath hitched. Jiang Yanli looked at Wei Ying as though a part of her grieved, as though she saw a little brother she loved— and one she had failed. But the misery staining her expression had abated, even now with Wei Ying having clearly ensured yet another punishment for trespassing.

~~

Lan Zhan spoke past the sudden lump in his throat and said what he’d wanted to say the moment he’d realized how little Wei Ying valued himself. “Love and respect yourself.” Wei Ying flinched. “Do not make assumptions about others.” So soft it was barely a whisper, Lan Zhan replied, “Do not tell lies.” It wasn’t quite a lie. But the implication— that Wei Ying did love and respect himself and Lan Zhan incorrectly assumed otherwise— was not true

Lan Zhan blinked back the burn of tears. “Life is more than enduring current circumstances.” Wei Ying’s breath caught. “I don’t recognize that one.” “No. It’s… advice,” Lan Zhan admitted, ears hot with the force of his blush. He felt as though he’d revealed something he usually kept close, something vulnerable and hopeful that rarely saw the light of day because it was all too fragile. “Lan Zhan is too wise,” Wei Ying complained, but there was a good-natured grin on his face. He heaved a dramatic sigh and shook his head. “Ah, Lan Zhan, I don’t deserve a friend like you.” The discordant sound of a lie hurt just as badly as the knowledge that Wei Ying truly believed it. “Lie,” Lan Zhan said, voice sharp-edged with pain and displeasure. Wei Ying had the audacity to look surprised. “Isn’t that a matter of opinion?” He asked skeptically, apparently willing to compromise on any point except his own worth. “No,” Lan Zhan replied.

~~

“I always wondered about you Lans— no way is everyone in the sect so obedient and disciplined all the time!” Wei Ying hiccuped another helpless little laugh. “Your rebellion just started at a young age. You were ahead of the crowd— a rogue baby loose in the Cloud Recesses!” Lan Zhan made a sound that was not unlike a growl and kept his face covered. “Did you really bite them if they tried to stop you?” Wei Ying tugged at his wrists again. “Lan Zhan. Hey, Lan Zhan. Who have you not bitten in your sect, huh?” Lan-xiansheng, Lan Zhan thought darkly, had definitely put him up to that question. “You,” Lan Zhan muttered, before his brain caught up with his mouth. Then the mental image and ensuing jolt of heat nearly sent him tumbling off the dock.

~~

He forgot, Lan Zhan thought dumbly. Forgot to put clothes on. Did Wei Ying wander around Yunmeng half-naked? Was that normal for him? Would he do that here, where Lan Zhan lived? Where Lan Zhan would see him in various states of disarray and be expected to survive that? “Ridiculous,” he choked out. He stomped after Wei Ying, cursing the flare of heat that had undoubtedly turned his ears crimson.

~~

“No,” Lan Zhan said hastily as Wei Ying wrestled his outer robe into place, but the damage was already done. Lan Huan practically vibrated in place, delighted with this new ammunition to mercilessly tease Lan Zhan. “Hi, Zewu-Jun!” Wei Ying chirped, blissfully unaware of the wicked glint in Lan Huan’s eyes. “We’re late for dinner. It’s my fault.” “Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan’s sigh was almost a groan as he watched Huan-ge happily misinterpret Wei Ying’s meaning. “Oh? How so?” “Well, we might have been on time if I hadn’t wanted to talk after–” Swimming, Lan Zhan mentally added with mounting horror as Huan-ge’s eyes nearly doubled in size. After swimming. – “plus I was all wet and kind of sweaty, too–” From the swimming, Lan Zhan shouted internally. Wet from SWIMMING. – “and then Lan Zhan had to remind me to put my clothes back on–” Well, that one Lan Zhan had no explanation for. Who just forgot they weren’t wearing clothes? What kind of obscene place was Yunmeng, anyway? – “and it’s a lot harder to get dressed while speed-walking through the woods than you might think, so now we’re running late.” …Getting dressed after swimming, Lan Zhan added with grim resignation.

~~😂😂😂 I'm dying here, lan wangji can't even talk

Lan Huan made a strangled noise. “So. Why does he feel better now?” “I am taking a vow of silence,” Lan Zhan decided. “You’re looking a little rumpled, too, didi,” Lan Huan managed through choked-off laughter. “Did Wei-gongzi help you get dressed?” Lan Zhan growled under his breath and stalked away, trailed by sounds of muffled hilarity because his brother was the worst. “And in the woods, didi? Where’s your sense of shame?” Lan Zhan considered biting him, for old time’s sake, but out of everyone in the sect Huan-ge was most accomplished at dodging. “What a compelling argument you must have made for him to stay. Solid strategy, didi,” Huan-ge gasped out, clutching his stomach as he bent double with laughter. Lan Zhan whirled around. Planted his hands on his hips, leveled a glare at his brother, and said in his most withering tone, “Wei Ying went swimming.” Then added, “Alone.” Just to be clear.

~

Wei Ying had no concept of his own worth. Could not bring himself to believe that anyone else valued him either. Meaning Wei Ying would never assume that his feelings, if they existed, were reciprocated. Meaning that Lan Zhan would have to take that risk, that first step towards him. Meaning that Lan Zhan would have to be the brave one. He took a deep breath. Another. Gathered his courage, dimly aware that they were still holding hands, and said firmly, “Wei Ying is worth it to me.” Wei Ying’s head came up, eyes wide, mouth parted as Lan Zhan amended, “worth everything to me.”

~

Wei Ying made a muffled sound of surprise against his mouth, which was entirely distracting and also made Lan Zhan want to bite him. Just a little. Wei Ying tilted his head, changing the angle, and suddenly their mouths were aligned and the kiss deepened, becoming soft and slow and sweet. Lan Zhan’s mind emptied of everything but the press of Wei Ying’s lips against his, helpless against the onslaught of sensation, heat pooling low in his belly and leaving him breathless and shivery. They parted when their lungs demanded it, both of them breathing hard, and stared at each other for a long moment. “Oh,” Wei Ying managed. “Oh,” Lan Zhan echoed faintly. “I didn’t know you liked me like that.” He looked as stunned as Lan Zhan felt. His hand was still clenched in Wei Ying’s robes; he could not make his fingers cooperate and release him. “I do.” “Obviously,” Wei Ying teased, because of course he did. “Unless you kiss all your friends like that.” Lan Zhan huffed. “Only Wei Ying.” His face went soft and awed. He leaned in to rest his forehead against Lan Zhan’s and whispered, “Good, because I only want to kiss Lan Zhan.” Lan Zhan closed his eyes and savored the truth of his words. Let it banish the trembling uncertainty of the future, a balm to his battered nerves. Lan Zhan wanted to kiss him again. He tugged on Wei Ying’s outer robe to pull him further into his space. “Again.” “So forward!” Wei Ying laughed, one hand wrapped around his wrist to keep him close. “Lan Zhan, are you always this bossy?” “Yes,” he admitted, and couldn’t help but smile when Wei Ying threw his head back and laughed, breathing life into the weary silence of the jingshi and filling all its empty spaces with humor and wonder and joy.

Part 2

💙In the half shade of my thorns

By:Reverie (cl410)

Summary:

Lan Zhan’s gift did not work on speculation or potentialities. Maybe because there were too many possible outcomes, too many futures that could exist, all depending on an infinite number of choices between now and then. Or maybe because the person speaking did not know whether their theory was true, or if any of their theories might be true, until a choice was made and the future shifted once again.

So how could Lan Zhan ever know the truth for certain?

Chapter:8/15

Words:46,570

Status:ongoing

gremlin lan zhan❤️❤️

"Haha! Look at that, now I’ve corrupted both of your nephews,” Lan-xiansheng told Uncle in a tone so smug it bordered on gloating. “And all I had to do for Wangji was steal Yunmeng Jiang’s head disciple for him.” “Xiansheng!” Lan Zhan hissed, mortified.

"What? Why are you embarrassed, Wangji, it’s hardly a secret! Besides, I was going to steal him anyway, because clearly my colleagues in Yunmeng can’t be trusted with the truly exceptional students.” Lan-xiansheng huffed and then added, not quite under his breath, “Idiots.”

~~~

(This meeting is important.” Uncle sighed when Lan Zhan stared at the ground to hide his disappointment. He seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, but finally added, “However, you may leave once Wei Wuxian returns.” Lan Zhan brightened and thanked him; he pointedly ignored the expressions of everyone within earshot and turned to inform the disciples at the gates to notify him upon Wei Ying’s arrival. “Pushover,” Lan-xiansheng accused Uncle, clearly amused. Uncle muttered, “Which of us bullied the Jiang Sect into giving up its head disciple for him?” )

~~~😂😂 wahhh they really loves him

Come and take it,” Lan Zhan said. He tightened the knot with his teeth, then raised a brow and added, “If you can.” A slow, wicked grin was the only response before Wei Ying leaped forward and the battle resumed. It was hard not to be distracted by the blazing intensity of Wei Ying’s focus. He was beautiful, so bright and vibrant it was like staring at the sun. Lan Zhan could not look away. He felt as though the whole world had shifted when he wasn’t paying attention, and now everything was brighter, warmer. The sun on the earth, scorching. Lan Zhan, drenched in sunlight. Thawing, bit by bit, like winter coaxed into spring, into blooming, by his own personal sun. Had he ever felt this way before? Overwhelmed by the searing heat of happiness, helpless against a smile that widened in slow degrees.

~~

“…Only with you, then.” Lan Zhan swallowed hard, because that was the truth, only he didn’t understand it. “To tease me,” he concluded, with the sinking feeling that he was being mocked. But— “So you’ll pay attention to me,” Wei Ying admitted, looking away as though embarrassed. Truth, Lan Zhan thought numbly. They hadn’t talked about the kiss the night before. Lan Zhan was afraid Wei Ying didn’t want to do it again, but— Wei Ying had just told him something, had been brave enough to be vulnerable with him, so he took a deep breath and met Wei Ying halfway. “I always pay attention to Wei Ying.” Wei Ying’s gaze snapped to his face. “You do not,” he said, half in disbelief. “I do.” “Since when?!” “Since always.” “Oh. Because I caused so much trouble?” Wei Ying wondered. Lan Zhan resisted the urge to shake him. “No.” Wei Ying stared at him expectantly, but Lan Zhan just blinked back at him. “Lan Zhan!” He wriggled in protest. “You can’t just say that and then not explain!” “Behave,” Lan Zhan said mildly, keeping him pinned. “Be nice,” Wei Ying shot back, a little sulky. “Why?” Lan Zhan asked, then smirked at Wei Ying’s look of profound outrage. “What is this! Who are you?! Do you bully anybody else this way?” “Only Wei Ying,” he said with a placid smile; It startled a laugh out of Wei Ying, left him grinning at Lan Zhan from… very close

They are so cute together ❤️

~~~

Lan-er-gongzi, bring your friend over here for a free sample!” “Don’t you want to buy him something special?” “Let him try this, Lan-er-gongzi!” And, worst of all, the elderly woman who sold hand-crafted musical instruments that Lan Zhan often paused to appreciate, who gave him a knowing look and said, “Lan-er-gongzi, does your handsome friend play any instruments?” Ears warm, Lan Zhan admitted, “The dizi.” He could only be grateful Wei Ying hadn’t overheard her, too immersed in his discussion across the street with a local weaver about fabrics and dyes. He grappled with the urge to run away, but the irresistible lure of the gleaming guqins on display proved stronger than the potential embarrassment. “A good duet partner for the guqin,” she said slyly. Lan Zhan ducked his head to hide his burning ears. Why had all of his elders started teasing him so mercilessly? Were they all conspiring to make Lan Zhan’s head explode from embarrassment? Would he ever know peace again?)

No I don't think so ,there will be no peace 😂😂😂

At one point, Wei Ying paused and scanned the street, seemingly oblivious to all attempts to get his attention until he finally spotted Lan Zhan and relaxed, giving him a cheerful wave that made everyone’s focus turn to him for a brief, terrifying moment. He held very still, expression foreboding, and quietly sighed in relief when they swarmed Wei Ying with questions instead. Amateur mistake, Lan Zhan thought with sympathetic amusement as Wei Ying blinked at the sudden teasing interrogation. He did a double take at one of the questions fired at him, rubbed the back of his neck with a bashful expression, and gave a quiet response that had all the aunties in the crowd cooing over him. He glanced at Lan Zhan in silent appeal for help. Lan Zhan just blinked slowly back at him, unmoved, and had the rare, sudden urge to laugh out loud when Wei Ying’s mouth dropped open in disbelief.

~~~~

Lan Zhan obviously had zero problems telling people no if the situation called for it— which was often for someone who experienced actual physical pain in every social interaction— but it was more fun with Wei Ying, if only for the amused reaction it got him. …Or, to be more accurate, for the way Wei Ying’s consistently fond responses sparked the deep, golden glow inside his chest that was rapidly becoming a familiar sensation. He treasured it like he did everything else Wei Ying gave him, because Lan Zhan had learned to expect only pain from others; he never could have dreamed the possibility of this quiet, encompassing joy he felt instead. So he let Wei Ying’s playful scolding envelop him like a salt-sewn breeze, let the riptide of affection drag him under. He surrendered to its steady pull, adrift in those gentle waters until the currents finally converged into the vast, muted depths of reverence. And all the fragments of his heart drifted softly in his wake: a love like light refracting through the deep— a love worth drowning in.

~~~

"It has recently come to my attention that a cultivator within this very room possesses a unique ability that could resolve this dispute without any room for doubt. After all, he is one of the most accomplished cultivators of his generation and has an established reputation for integrity.” Lan Zhan’s breath caught in his throat. The world seemed to freeze, suspending him in this sick state of dread, the impending, inescapable sense of doom. In front of him, Huan-ge and Uncle went rigid in their seats; Lan-xiansheng watched Jin Guangshan with narrowed eyes. Wei Ying made a sound of confusion. Nie Mingjue inhaled sharply. Nie Huaisang dropped his fan with a clatter. And Jin Guangyao looked away, right as Jin Guangshan turned to stare directly at Lan Zhan. “As it turns out, this esteemed cultivator is capable of detecting any lie, spoken or unspoken, simply through proximity. Isn’t that right, Lan-er-gongzi?”

~~~

Lan Zhan looked up when Huan-ge whirled around, unclamping his hands in time to hear his brother snap, “Wei Wuxian, get him out of here. Now.” Wei Ying looked a little startled at his tone, everyone else taken aback by the intensity in his voice. But then there were hands on his elbows, pulling him gently to his feet, guiding him through the blurry sea of people. He was aware of white-clad disciples parting, glanced up to find an unyielding line of stone-faced Lan disciples closing ranks again as they passed, covering their exit and blocking line of sight. And Huan-ge, tall and bright and so furious that the force of his qi made everyone shuffle a step aside or even halt in their tracks. His brother was renowned as the perfect diplomat, polite and kind and gentle… so people forgot what it meant to be the First Jade of Lan, the Sect Heir and first ranked in their generation. They forgot that Lan Xichen could be angry

~~~~ fuck Jin Guangyao did itttttt

“Not a curse,” Lan Zhan said stubbornly. How could they call it a curse? How could they reduce his mother’s last gift to him to a curse, let it be stained with all the implications that came with that word, and expect him to be okay with it? Framing it as a curse turned it into something he was forced to bear, something to suffer rather than a gift he would fight tooth and nail to preserve, no matter the cost. Curse implied the caster intended harm and, regardless of the pain and the threat to his golden core, his mother never intended to hurt him— she’d wanted to protect him. Lan Zhan treasured the legacy his mother left him. He didn’t care that her final gift came with pain. If he decided it wasn’t a curse, then it wasn’t a curse.

~~

“Using your power to oppress those without it. Allowing harm to befall a child.” He looked towards the Yunmeng Jiang delegation and quietly added, “Blaming a child for things beyond their control. Harming a child under your care.” Wei Ying sucked in a breath. Across the room, Jiang Wanyin went dead white, staring fearfully at his mother. Madam Yu narrowed glittering eyes at Lan Zhan. He stared her down, unwavering, until she finally scoffed and looked away.

~~yesss tell them babe🤧🤧

He’d thought his only option was to bear the weight of their lies, but… why? Let them carry the weight of their own choices for once. They weren't his responsibility, were not his burden to carry.

~~ of course it's their responsibility not yours

“‘I trust you. I believe you. I am not afraid.’” He looked towards the dais, met Jin Guangyao’s unreadable gaze. “‘I am sorry.’”

~~

“STOP FLIRTING AND GET OVER HERE, ALREADY,” Lan-xiansheng bellowed, drawing the entire room’s attention towards them. “He does this on purpose, doesn’t he?” “Yes.” “…So, are you grateful enough to go over there with me?”