#i have the hot take that the True King and the way he showed power on Nahlgrande is anti american imperialism

[icharchivist]

But honestly, Maleagant's speech moved me to tears. Just. Being subjected to all of that horror just because of the way you were born. Being ostracized and hated and treated as less than human just because of the way you are... As a LGBTQ person, that hits close to home. That's really relevant in today's times and I'm glad the subject matter was treated with respect and they weren't made out to be the villains because they retaliated against the oppressive system. It was just really good. cries

honestly yeah, same. it genuinely messed me up.

i don't really talk about it on here but hhh my Mom is of Jewish and French&Algerian descent, and while she didn't pass down anything culturally speaking (she considers herself atheist and she did everything in her life to conceal our heritage, so i don't know as many cultural stuff that isn't just. the Trauma:tm: or just things my mom unconsciously passed down), the conversation, especially, about how much our family had lost to the holocaust when her family lived in France, and then to the Algerian war after they moved there have been.... a lot. this is something we talk about a lot.

like. i think it's why i also kinda flew off the handle a little at receiving dick jokes out of it because to me it's just. Yeah. Yeah i those are conversations that hit extremely deep especially in term of generational trauma, and, of course, current politics as well.

I think it's also like. something i'm kinda eyeing Lancelot about in case his Valiant heritage ever happen to be relevant. Because i know i've seen people brush it off like it doesn't matter because Lancelot doesn't seem to feel anything with the dragons around him or not but there's... definitely something to be had with a heritage to a culture you weren't taught anything about and yet still the ghost of knowing it could fall down on you at anytime.

I think it's really hard to find a story that really talk about genocide while also being like. fair to the victims. More often than not fantasy stories in particular end up falling into the trap of saying that there was a reason it happened, actually, or that well it's from the past you can't punish the people now :/ or stuff like that and it's. wehh.

Personally, it made me think especially about the Ainu people in Japan. I am not really well versed on the topic, but there was basically a whole genocide on the Indigenous people of Hokkaido, and i know in recent years, Japan has been trying to take some lands that belonged to the Ainu in order to build in some themeparks, and when the Ainu survivors tried to make their plea heard and have Japan acknowledge their warcrimes, the government denied it fully. (and it's not to mention how Koreans have been asking for the past decades for Japan to recognize their warcrimes and the gov still fully in pure denial it even happened. which is a similar topic that is worth mentioning)

in the past few years Japan has been under fire for their complete refusal to address the genocides and warcrimes they had commited, and there's been a really big public outcry around the world about the state denial going on and the way it also transcribe on how those genocides are... well... /not/ taught.

so i do think it's like, extremely relevant to Japanese politics. I even saw a seiyuu mention how topical this event is. This is an event that directly criticize the current Japanese policy of constant denial and stuff.

and, obviously, it can apply to any other situation where rights are denied to people for various reasons, which is extremely relevant all around the world because of the rise of fascism and the way most governments these days are completely lost in the history revisionism sauce, and it's genuinely alarming. Look at any country's politics and all of them are trying to rewrite history in some way and it's sickening.

I personally immediately connected to it because, on top of my history awareness, it's just like. conversations i regularly have with my mom when we discuss our family's past. It stung extremely close from home. even if i'm also LGBT+ this was where my thoughts immediately went.

but therefore, it's something that applies to any experiences of oppressed people who are currently having their history erased by fascist government that are trying to get rid of "the undesirable"

i genuinely think granblue dealt with the topic with a lot of grace, and Maleagant genuinely managed to pass down the politics, the pain, the history, the old hurt as well as the new hurt, just so well.

it really struck a cord with me. It was really well done.

so yeah feeling you fully on this one friend.

I think this event was pretty graceful at addressing this topic while also really anchoring itself as anti-fascist and it was honestly a breath of fresh air.

#ngl i was terrified when they started to go this direction #bc since they're also dragon people i was just bracing myself bc 'oh great secret lizard people planning your downfall cool'. #but they didn't go that direction at all and instead were just. so very good about it. #on one hand i was very worried because you never know when a story is going to betray you in those topics #but on the other it does track with granblue's general thematics #i mean the whole Erste Empire arc in the main story read as an anti-imperialism critic of imperial japan #i have the hot take that the True King and the way he showed power on Nahlgrande is anti american imperialism #(bc good fucking lord the whole scene with the Great Wall where they dropped a major beam on a population just to show they could do it) #(is a really loaded scene and imagery) #we talk a lot about how radical granblue can be especially in term of LGBT stuff #bc even besides the teasing stuff there's a lot of T talk and canon stuff and everything #but the politics of the game are really alligning left #but i'm also terrified to talk about it bc i feel like maybe i'm just extremely generous to the game bc of my own bias #but at least this event feels extremely strong on those critism at least. Maleagant ily thank you for everything. #ichareply #ichafantalks gbf #ichablogging gbf #ichablogging 4kishi #anonymous

[yuujisuku]

you taught me how to love, a sukuna drabble

tags: fem reader, smut, LOTS OF FLUFF, true form sukuna in the heian era, might be a bit ooc sukuna bc he's not a dick BUT FUCK IT I LOVE SOFT KUNA OKAAAAY, I'm a soft kuna defender for lifeee, sukuna calls u cute pet names btw, you guys should read this when you're sad and need something to get ur mind off of the day, ily!!

Sukuna loves it when his cock slides deep inside you, nesting his cock there as he finally starts thrusting languishly inside your pussy where it feels like home to him. 

He loves being with his beautiful woman. He loves being inside you, but he also adores just resting on his massive bed that you two share. His true form takes up most of the bed, but you prefer to lay your small body across his large chest when you're both worn out from the day. Sukuna always anticipates whenever you two have your resting moments. It's therapeutic to him. 

He doesn't remember when he fell for you. It must have been when you broke down his walls, teaching him that love isn't always a weakness and that he deserves to have someone by his side. That person being you. 

You moan as he snaps his hips and strokes his cock against your sweet spot. His thrusts feel agonizingly slow and you want to order him to go harder. “Harder, ‘Kuna!” You cry, wanting to feel his cock destroy your pussy, but he just shushes you and tells you to be patient. He wants to take his time before he ruins you, he wants to feel your tight pussy squeeze his massive girth before he claims your pussy with his cock. He loves the feeling of your pussy crying against him. He loves the tears you make as you beg him for more. 

He loves you. He adores you. He admits he would kill for you. He would kill to protect you. You are his and he won't let anyone take you from him. 

“I want to feel you, my sweet flower. Let me take my time.” He says, reaching his head down to press kisses to your erect nipples, catching one between his lips and sucking them. The sensation makes you even more wet, loving the way his cock hits your g-spot. His thrusts are getting a bit faster, and your soft moans are becoming more wanton. Everything about Sukuna is massive, from his cock to his body to his love for you. You still can't believe you could take all of him the first time you did. 

The way he's thrusting inside you changes suddenly as he picks up the pace. The slowburn was delicious but you're just glad you're getting to the main course of this meal. Sukuna pumps his cock inside you vigorously, and you cry out from the delicious feeling of his cock pounding inside you. You love that he's taking care of you, making you feel good after a long day. You want to cum around his cock so bad. You know you deserve to cum, you've been so good to him lately. 

“Does my sweet flower want to cum?” He asks, “Yes!” You cry, wanting so badly to reach the edge. You appreciate when Sukuna teases you, because your orgasms are much more powerful when he prolongs them. 

Sukuna reaches down to massage your clit. Your cute thighs are shaking a bit from how close you're getting. You adore him, you adore all of him and you're just glad he's here to worship your body and take care of you. You wish you were stronger so you could take care of him too. But you realize that you already do. You take care of him by being open and vulnerable, by showing your love for him and by being loyal. If being in love with the enemy makes you a bad person, then so be it. 

Sukuna is worth it.

He takes a bite of your collarbone and you finally cum around his cock. A few more thrusts and Sukuna finishes inside you. You love the way the hot spurts of cum coat your womb. 

“Fuck! Are you alright, my love?” Sukuna says, taking your tired arm that's resting on your stomach and kissing your fingers. “I wasn't too rough now, was I?” You love the way that he sounds concerned. You would have never expected to hear something like that coming from Sukuna, the almighty King of Curses. You admit he's turning soft. 

You taught him how to love. He loves you because you helped him open his heart to you, and that realization makes you feel strong, as if you alone were able to gain the love of a man who never knew love at all. 

“I'm alright, my king. Just…tired.” You reassure him. Sukuna chuckles as he lays on the bed, moving your body so you can lay your head on his large body. You choose to rest your head on the juncture of his shoulder. 

“We should get Uraume to prepare us a bath soon.” 

“I just want to lay here with you.” 

Sukuna chuckles. His poor baby is burnt out from all the love making and duties you had to fulfill for the day, so he'll let you rest for a bit before you take a bath with him. He comforts you as he strokes your naked back, just appreciating the feel of your body resting against his. 

“‘Kuna?” 

“Yes, my love?” 

“...I love you.” 

It doesn't hurt Sukuna when you say it. It's the opposite, really. Your love feels like a breath of fresh air. It's healing to him. He's so lucky to have a woman like you by his side. 

“I love you too, my sweet.” 

He means it. 

#ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna x reader fanfic #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna x reader smut #ryomen sukuna x reader smut

[kasagia]

Bruises and scars

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x fem! tidemaker! reader Summary: Kaz Brekker believed he was too broken and bruised to ever count on you reciprocating his childish crush. You were a powerful Grisha, someone who wouldn't be content to be in a relationship with the human shell that he was. That's why he gives you the cold shoulder, that's why he avoids you like the water you wield so well, that's why he tried to drive you away after the day you confessed your feelings to him. Kaz Brekker couldn't love anyone. It would not be beneficial to either side. But Kaz Rietveld rises from the dead, reminding him of what it's like to feel unconditional, blind love. And he won't give up. Not until he gets his girl back... isn't it too late for that, though? Warning(s): Kaz and his trauma; violence; he's afraid of his feelings but loves the reader; generally Kazzle misses the reader; angst with fluff; I'm a sucker for happy endings, but the boy suffered WITHOUT HIS INVESTMENT; mentions of de@th and bl00d Word count: 7,4k

Counting days, counting days since my love up and got lost on me

"You're sending Jesper to do your dirty work for you? I didn't know you were afraid to talk to one of your own crows." you stormed into his office without even bothering to knock. Kaz swallowed. He really should have been better prepared for this conversation. After all, he knew you wouldn't give up so easily. "What is this?" you asked, slamming the wad of paper onto his desk.

"I thought you could read. This is your next job." he replied calmly, not looking up from the papers in his hand.

"In some snobbish fucking king's palace? Are you kidding me?"

"Nikolai isn't that bad. You'll see when you get there."

"And what makes you think that I will voluntarily leave Ketterdam, the club, my friends, and the Crows for two bloody years, Kaz?" for the first time since you walked into his office, he looked up from his papers, fixing you with a cool, impassive gaze.

"That I'm your boss, and you have to obey me. You needed a reminder, judging by the tone of voice you use when you speak to me."

"Was it because of what I said to you when I almost..."

"No!" he growled at you, stopping you from finishing your sentence. That day had already joined his nightmares anyway. He didn't have to constantly recall your almost-death. "It has nothing to do with it." he said, hoping that would put an end to your conversation and went back to writing down the numbers.

"Do not lie to me. I know when you do it, Kaz. You got scared because I said I love…"

"You can go and get ready, Y/N." he said without looking up from the paper he was holding. He had never felt her gaze so hot and intense on him before. They always glanced furtively at each other, discreetly indulging in the silly fantasy of loving each other.

Like they could ever afford to live a normal life. As if he could ever love you properly—the way you deserved.

You stared at him intently, trying to find any trace of emotion in him, any evidence that he didn't really want to send you away from Ketterdam, that he was only doing it because Dirtyhands was afraid of the growing feeling between you two.

"I can hold on like this, Kaz." your soft whisper cut through him, making him shiver. He could bear your screams, your anger, your madness, but the tenderness, the vulnerability you showed only around him… was much more dangerous to the cold Barrel Bastard. "I can go and return to you like nothing happened. I can stay near you and pretend I don't feel anything towards you. I can stop myself from wishing for your slightest touch. I can hide my true emotions around you and other people, just like I have done before… but please just prove to me that it's all worth it. That you can slowly take off pieces of your armour and let me see and be with the real you. Not the Brekker's mask you wore every time we were on Ketterdam's street. Not the Dirtyhands' cruel version of yourself that you created to survive in this town. Not the Bastard from the Barrel, who has so much power in his hands to take down his every enemy. Just the real you, Kaz. The genius-mind boss who cares about his people, not only the kruge. The man who loves his friends more than anything on this earth. The man who risked his own life and saved me from death's arms more times than I could count. Please… just give me this little piece of hope." he tried hard not to raise his gaze to meet your captivating, imploring irises that could touch Brekker's heart.

He knew that the moment he looked at your face, he would doom you both by giving in to this burning desire to be with you.

But he couldn't.

He had to keep you away from him.

"You must be foolish or delusional to think like that. I'm the Bastard from the Barrel. And I care about my crows, because they are good investments. Nothing more and nothing less, Y/L/N."

"Is this everything that we are? What am I to you? An investment?"

Kaz's mouth went dry as he felt the waters rising around him, when a familiar feeling of panic began to seep through his practised mask. He looked away, not wanting you to read his true emotions. Not wanting you to see how much he wanted to confess his true feelings to you.

No. You're my moon, my sun that illuminates me in my darkness. The reason why I'm even bothering to learn how to touch people without going under the water again. You give me hope and peace every time you're close to me. You're my greatest power and weakness. The only one in this bloody world who can change my plans. The only one I care about in the mornings, afternoons, nights, and midnights. I can't drink, eat, think, sleep, or work without thinking about you. You have the power over me. And that's terrified me.

He desperately wanted to give in to his desire.

But he couldn't.

He was too bruised and broken for you.

"Then I have my answer, Mr. Brekker." you broke the long, tense silence between you two. Kaz was too terrified to shift his gaze from the papers on his desk to the only woman who could easily crack the wall around his cold, almost dead heart with one of your smiles towards him. Too afraid to watch the tender expression on your face turn into a cold detachment, just like your tone of voice. "Sorry for taking up your precious time, boss. But I would rather be the foolish girl who falls in love too easily for her own good than a powerful man who doesn't want to feel anything. Nobody will sit around the table and tell a story about a man who loves only his kruge. No matter how great he was." your disappointed whisper lingered in his office long after you left.

He sat dazed in his chair until the candle stub burned out completely, leaving him alone in the darkness of his office. He stood up, lit a new candle, and watched the flame. He couldn't focus on anything other than replaying your conversation.

Rietveld's voice echoed in Brekker's head, somehow getting through his wall, mocking powerful Dirtyhands.

Coward.

And every breath that I’ve been taking since you left feels like a waste on me

"No way!" Jesper's loudspeaker scream snapped Kaz out of his thoughts. He sighed, rubbing his face with his hand, and got up from the desk.

He has done nothing since that fateful conversation. Absolutely nothing. He limited himself to staring blankly at the wall as his thoughts of Y/N effectively took complete control of him. He needed a distraction. Jesper's screams outside his office were perfect.

Without his cane, he walked to the door, eavesdropping on what was going on outside his office.

"Find another idiot to tell him. Or better yet, grab some suicide guy from the roof. If he wants to die anyway, he might as well act as a messenger for their one last time before Kaz rips their head off. SHIT!" the sharpshooter screamed in panic, nearly losing his balance as the door he was partially leaning against was opened by his rather worried boss. "Kaz, the fuck, since when are you sneaking around like that?!"

"Why exactly would I want to have ripped someone's heads off, Jesper?" he ignored his comment, eager to find out what they were hiding from him as soon as possible.

Maybe that would effectively occupy his head, so he could stop thinking about the tidemaker for a while. Unfortunately, neither of the two were in a hurry to answer his question.

"You know, there's always an occasion. Theft, insult, threat, frown, bad day, wedding, christening…" Jesper shut up, seeing that his attempts at a joke only infuriated an already irritated Kaz.

"Y/N is gone." Kaz unconsciously held his breath, feeling the whole world freeze around him for a moment, until anger and panic took hold of him.

"What? Did someone kidnap her? How did you look after her?!" he growled furiously, walking back to the office and limping towards his cane. His crows followed hesitantly, watching him struggle as he tried to put on his cloak in his haste.

"She runaway. I lost track of her around the harbour." a new revelation made Kaz freeze again. He stared blankly into the space between Jesper and Inej, turning his cane's crow head in his hand.

He should have anticipated that too. Had a backup plan. But he didn't. He's been acting strangely lately. He didn't recognize himself. But after all, that was what he had wanted all along - to stay away from Y/N. So why had her disappearance made him feel so much worse?

"Kaz? Should we send some people to…"

"No need, Inej. Go back to work. You too, Jesper." the gambler looked like he wanted to argue with him, but the Wraith, seeing their friend's strange behavior, grabbed his hand, and they obediently walked away from their boss.

Kaz leaned against the desk, dullly staring at the closed door.

It was supposed to be better that way. Neither you nor he will ever meet again. You won't exchange those longing glances again. You won't act like a couple of teenagers in love, and no one will ever attack or harm you to get to him again or to threaten him. Nobody was going to get hurt.

So why did he feel like he was going back under the water?

I’ve been holding on to hope That you’ll come back when you can find some peace Cause every word that I’ve heard spoken since you left feels like an hollow street

One week, two days, 10 hours, 34 minutes and 29 seconds. That's how long it's been since he last saw your face.

He was secretly hoping you'd come back to him and the crows. Fuck the crows, he just wanted you to walk through that damned door again and start arguing with him, shouting at him, cursing his name at all the saints you knew, so he could hear your voice again.

He missed you. More than he thought he would.

Irritatingly, everything around him reminded him of you.

Especially your empty seat during Crow's meetings. No one dared to occupy it, as if every one of the gathered was waiting for you to come through that door (or window) again with a malicious, characteristic smirk on your face, mumbling some insincere apology for being late.

It never happened. Though Inej prayed to her saints every day for your return. Just like the others. Although each of them experienced your departure differently. Jes stared often at the places you once occupied, imagining you were still there. Nina found herself often making too many waffles (of course, accidentally making exactly the few you were used to eating). Wylan often creates his bombs and other things in your favourite colours.

But Kaz probably took your absence the worst of them all.

If he had slept little before, fearing that nightmares about Jordie would haunt him, now he hardly slept at all. Because every time he closed his eyes, he saw your face. He heard your laugh. He smelled your perfume. He felt cursed. Cursed by you the moment your eyes looked at him full of sadness, anger, and disappointment... full of pain.

He thought that if you disappeared from his sight, he would forget about you and go back to normal. But your leaving only made him think of you more often and longer. He sat behind his desk for hours, staring blankly at the papers in front of him. Spread out plans, bills, and maps; it all stopped making sense to him. It stopped coming together, creating a perfect plan in his head.

All he could think about was you.

And Rietveld's voice, instead of being silenced and buried alive in his cold heart with your disappearance, only broke through his hard surface more and more often with the passing days without you by his side. And he wasn't holding back from taunting Dirtyhands at all.

The great Kaz Brekker fell victim to one of his own plans.

There must be something in the water Cause everyday it's getting colder And if only I could hold you You'd keep my head from going under

Even Ketterdam has felt your absence.

This time of year, it usually warms up enough for people to shed their heavy winter coats. However, it was the middle of spring, and a cool, icy wind still blew through the streets, bringing occasional, small snowfalls that melted on the street, creating mud.

Kaz had never despised the city he lived in more. Even it laughed in his face at his stupidity, reminding him that it was his fault that the only spark of joy and bewitchingness in this damned city had gone.

He shuddered as a child shoved past him, running happily to the ship that had come into harbour and thrown itself into its father's waiting arms. Brekker began to take rapid, panicked breaths. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall of one of the buildings, trying to imagine something other than Jordie.

His haphephobia got worse.

Earlier, he could bear the fleeting touch of strangers, such as being brushed up against him in a crowd. It was no problem for him to touch his crows for a few minutes (especially you and your comfortable hugs, holding your hand, or just feeling your warm skin under his bare fingertips).

But now even the slightest contact with a stranger brought him immediately under the water. And the tiny touch from his crows raised the waves he had to calm in the privacy of his office.

He was rolling down. He knew it well. But he saw it as his personal punishment for hurting your feelings in a brutal way instead of gently cutting you off. Maybe then it wouldn't hurt so much.

Kaz knew he was fooling himself. He would suffer anyway. He let you go too deep under his skin, penetrate his essence, and know his soul too well to just give up on you, and forget about you.

And what terrified him most was that, given the choice, he would let you in again. Even knowing he would be devastated after letting you go.

But it was better for you. You deserved something better than this life you would live with him.

And that one thought kept him sane. That he did it for your own good, that wherever you are now, he's sure you're better off than you were in Ketterdam.

Which didn't stop him from checking every ship that came into port in the sick hope of seeing your angelic face.

He just had to get over his grief. He did the same with Jordie.

The only difference was that he didn't dream of holding his brother back in his arms like he dreamed of you.

Maybe I, maybe I’m just being blinded By the brighter side Of what we had because it’s over Well there must be something in the tide

Kaz was on your bed, reading one of your books you accidentally left behind. It was all he could do lately. He wasn't sure how long it had been since he'd left that room for anything other than food and a change of clothes. He missed you. And he had no idea what he should do.

He inhaled your faint scent on the pillows.

In some strange way (probably because of your ability to control the water), you always smelled of the sea, even when you weren't near the harbour. Kaz hated water and hated the salty sea smell that hit him whenever he passed near the harbour. It reminded him of Jordie. But inexplicably, the smell of the sea on you brought him comfort, safety... peace.

Now it was a reminder of something else—how he let you slip through his fingers. In fact, he pushed you away from himself.

He shook his head, trying not to think about you. However, the world was always against him and never made things easy for him. The fact that the dried flower had fallen out of the book onto his chest was proof of that.

With trembling hands, he set the book aside and reached for the flower, afraid he would ruin it. However, the need to see if his eyes were deceiving him was greater than the fear of spoiling such a precious thing.

He remembered that flower. He put it in your hair himself.

"Just the two of us in a field of flowers? If I didn't know you better, I'd think it was a date, boss." he rolled his eyes as you giggled at his reaction.

"Stop it. Or they'll notice us." he muttered, trying to ignore the cool wind that somehow made its way through the high grass. He wrapped his cloak around him, enviously noting that the girl next to him didn't seem to feel that cold. He internally slapped himself for wanting to share his cloak with her.

"I highly doubt they'd want to look for us in that thicket of grass. Besides, usually when a woman is giggling at a place and situation like this, stealing some noblewoman's jewels is the last thing on her mind, Kaz. The same applies to her potential partner."

"As if I heard Jesper." he sighed, focusing on the nobles in front of them. The plan was for Jesper to distract them while he and Y/N collected what they had come for. Simple and fast, if his childish desire to be paired with Y/N did not overwhelm his senses. She distracted him more than he could afford.

"You and Jes also had a secret meeting among the wildflowers? Now, I'm jealous."

"Jes?" he asked, turning his surprised gaze on her.

"Yes, do you mind?"

"You've known him for a week." he remarked dryly.

"Yes, and what?"

"It took you two months to start calling me by my first name, let alone a nickname."

"Just because you preferred to call me tidemaker instead of using my name."

"To be honest, it might have slipped my mind then." he muttered under his breath, not realising she heard him.

"You forgot my fucking name?! Kaz Brekker you are the most ignorant person I've ever seen." Kaz knew from the anger in her eyes that only his haphephobia kept him from getting his ass kicked by Y/N.

"Well, now I remember." he tried to defend himself.

"I don't care, Brekker. Now you can even call me the fucking Easter Bunny and I won't answer you anyway."

"Don't be a child, Y/N. Y/N?" Kaz sighed in frustration when he got no response from you.

He had to come up with something; he knew this name thing wouldn't be resolved until he appeased you properly. And he didn't have time to indulge in your sulks. You had to rob these people. (It's not like his heart ached when you were mad at him.)

Fortunately, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something that might help him. Your favourite flower, growing at his fingertips. He plucked a plant and put it behind your ear without thinking. You flinched at the sudden touch, staring at him in shock as the material of his gloves brushed your cheek as he pulled his hand away.

"Maybe I forgot your name then, but now I remember and know a lot more about you than just a stupid name."

"But how… how do you know I like y/f/f?" you asked in shock, never in your wildest dreams imagining that Kaz Brekker would bother with something like your favorite flower.

"You are my tidemaker. My most important investment. It's logical that I'll know you inside out."

"Should I be afraid or appreciate this unsettling but sweet effort?"

"You should know by now that nothing I do is sweet."

"Of course, big, terrible, Dirtyhands." you replied with a small smirk, similar to the one that kept Kaz from your sight.

To her, he could be more than Kaz Brekker. He could be Kaz Rietveld. And it terrified him more than the urge to reach out his hand again and fix her windblown hair.

The mastermind has been deceived by his own heart.

I’ve been told, I’ve been told to get you off my mind But I hope I never lose the bruises that you left behind Oh my Lord, oh my Lord, I need you by my side

"Zenik. Follow me." he muttered as he finally found the woman at the bar. He headed for his office without looking back, knowing full well that she would do as she was told this time.

"Yes, Kaz?"

"You are contacting Y/N." it wasn't a question. He knew it the moment Nina sent you her first letter a month ago.

He himself tried to send you his letter a week ago. It came back unopened, and the delivery man said no such person lives at this address. A lie he recognised without even knowing that Nina and you were still writing to each other.

"I am." she replied coolly. Kaz, seeing that he did not want to voluntarily cooperate, sighed and sat down in his chair. His leg was starting to hurt more and more often - another thing that went bad with you leaving.

"How is she?"

"Happy. Relatively. She is tormented by nightmares and unwanted thoughts about you." if Nina wanted to make him feel guilty, she did it brilliantly.

He already felt terrible without her judging eyes and dry answers. She must have seen the shadows under his eyes, as he did in his mirror. He had no right to pity himself. He knew it well. That's why he put up with Nina's attitude, in his stupid desire to know how you were doing.

"So… is she better off than here?"

"No. But that's not your problem anymore."

"Did she find someone?" he asked hesitantly, afraid of an affirmative answer.

"Possibly, things are evolving."

Kaz felt the world stop around him for a moment. The idea of someone else watching how you play with water and create ice sculptures, someone listening to your beautiful voice and making you laugh, someone capable of holding you and kissing you, made him sick. A sick sense of jealousy that Kaz only experienced when he saw the wealth of others.

A rash desire to come for you overtook him. He had to have you back. Before you fall in love with someone other than him.

"Do you think if we…"

"No, Kaz." Nina cut him off before he could ask a question. "You wanted to get rid of her, so hold on to your fucking decision. You hurt her, and you knew damn well you would, by ordering her to return to Ravka. Honestly, Kaz, did you think about how it would impact her? How she would feel? If you wanna break her heart again, go on. Chase her. Let's see if she forgives you also this time."

"Then what should I do?" he asked, and the desperation and hopelessness of his tone terrified both him and the woman standing in front of his desk. Nobody had ever seen him like this. Even you. And now he was ready to open up to anyone just to have you by his side again.

"Forget about her. After all, that's what you wanted, right?" he did not answer.

She was right. He wanted to get rid of you. Now he was paying the price, and he had no right to ask you to ease his pain and return to the Kettedram. Return to him. Which doesn't mean that his stupid heart will just let him forget about you. He's learned that over the months without you. And he cursed all the saints that he didn't know it until he gave you the cold shoulder.

Kaz no longer had the right to your affection. He had to accept it. He had to accept that he had given up his chance to love you. That now you had every right to go and love someone else. Even if the very idea drove him crazy and desperate.

He must have forgotten about you. For the sake of all of you.

But Nina's slamming of his office door only brought him back to his memories of you.

There must be something in the water Cause everyday it's getting colder And if only I could hold you You'd keep my head from going under

Kaz fell. He was in the most pathetic position.

He didn't care, though, as he sat like a fool on the shore of the same lake where he met you. At which he irreversibly gave you the remnants of his heart a few years ago, without even knowing it.

He told himself that Nina was right. Once he let you go, he had to persevere in that resolve. Ketterdam will only bring you pain... so why was it so hard for him to let go of his last ties to you?

"Why are you coming here with me?" your gentle voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he stared spellbound at your little water show.

"Am I bothering you?" he asked, shifting in his place on the dock as he watched you float in the lake.

He wouldn't even dip his little toe in himself, but he liked to silently watch you become one with what was dear to you. And by the way, he could admire your skills and beauty as much as he wanted. He didn't have to look for any particular excuse.

"No. It's just that I've never seen you watch your other crows train."

"They're not like you." it slipped out before he could think about it. "If anyone sees you, I better get them before they announce to the world that one of the Black General's tidemakers has taken refuge with me." your smirk dropped at the mere mention of your former life. Kaz cursed in his mind. "You are also too valuable an investment. And the rest of the crows liked you. It's a big achievement. Inej doesn't let new people in so easily... me too."

"So you like me after all, boss?" you asked with that mischievous smirk on your lips that made his heart beat like crazy. Good thing water was your specialty. At least you didn't hear his heart pounding.

"You're tolerable company, and what you can do… what you can do is amazing."

"It's just little tricks." you murmured, forming different shapes out of the water. "At the king's parties, I was quite often one of the highlights." you waved your hand, freezing the water to form an ice statue. His statue. "Not every tidemaker is strong enough to freeze water." with another wave of your hand, to his silent displeasure, you melted the ice. "Not to mention turning ice into water again. Most just stop at its liquid form and don't train any more. I like to think I'm too curious to ever stop exploring my powers."

"Or stubborn." he said with a small smirk, listening to your wonderful laugh.

He must have been cursed from the start, since fate had put someone so perfect in his path... someone he could never have. But he could have been watching you. Enjoy his eyes with your beauty and his ears with the tone of your voice.

"Sometimes that's a good trait too. You taught me that yourself."

"How convenient for you to learn from me only what you want and not what you need."

"Sometimes what we want is more important than what we need and what is more rational for us."

"What for example?"

"Love." he tried to keep a poker face, but apparently his eyes betrayed more than he would have liked, as you gave him a confused, questioning look. "What? You've never been in love?"

NO. Not until he looked into your eyes and heard you laugh. Not until he got into your first argument with you and lost with a smile on his face. Not until he first saw you use your powers to outsmart the bandits who attacked you. Not until he saw how the moonlight in Ketterdam made your eyes shine even more than usual, so that you might as well have lit up all of the city with your beauty. Not until he first heard his name come out of your mouth. No, until he foolishly began to believe in Inej's saints, when he saw how tenderly and kindly you treat the orphans in the streets of Ketterdam.

"This silence means either a very powerful heartbreak, or you really only love a kruge."

"What if I really never loved anyone? What if I don't believe in love?" he whispered, looking up at you. You sneaked up to him so that you were standing in front of him. Water trickled down your hair and along your neck to the hand you held out to him. You opened your hand, handing him a small shell.

"The world is too cruel for such beliefs, Kaz. If we don't believe in love, why should we get out of bed at all? Why do we accumulate all these riches and try to survive each day?" Kaz didn't know the answer. Not one that would allow him to avoid the uncomfortable subject of his feelings for you.

He took the shell from you and, being careful not to break it, put it in his pouch. Along with the other little things you fished out of the water.

Your eyes met. You stared into the other's eyes for a moment, lost in your own dreams, which were not too different from each other... Yet neither of you had the courage to admit them out loud and risk everything you had been so carefully building between yourselves. Even if your hearts burned for more.

So he sat with you in silence, watching you play with the water and analysing what you told him. What was the reason for his existence?

Kaz from a year ago would have answered quickly and without thinking. Revenge. But now that he was looking at you, he wasn't so sure about his answer… or at least it was closer to something much different than his desire for revenge.

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh It's your love I'm lost in Your love I'm lost in Your love I'm lost in And I'm tired of being so exhausted

He sat behind his desk, involuntarily reminiscing about the day it all began.

The day he almost lost you. The day you almost died in his arms. The day you told him something he secretly wanted to hear but wasn't prepared for. The day he will curse forever.

This was your first assignment after returning from Ravka and the whole sun summoner thing. A childish, simple burglary. Something to warm up his crows—a return to the reality of Ketterdam without queens and kings and politics.

And so it was. You filled your pockets with valuables and were about to leave when one of the guards spotted you. They were much better armed than you (it was supposed to be a simple robbery with no witnesses and no blood spilled, so you only had daggers and knives "just in case") and strangely familiar with all the secret passages in the small mansion.

Even though you found yourself in a terrible situation, you managed to leave the property. You laid out in the finish as you and Kaz ran towards the club. One of the guards shot at you and hit you. Very accurate, almost piercing your heart with a bullet.

Kaz stared dazedly as you screamed in pain as you clutched your chest and tumbled onto the muddy, cobbled road. He reacted faster than he thought, throwing the dagger at the man who shot you and killing him instantly. Inej would have praised him for such a throw.

But that effective kill didn't matter to him now. He ran over to you in a panic and kneeled beside you, tugging at the fabric of your shirt. He hissed as he saw the blood pouring down your skin.

"Kaz..." you groaned, looking at him terrified. Kaz ripped off a piece of his shirt and wrapped it tightly around your waist, trying to stop the gushing blood. "Cold." you mumbled, shivering in his arms. Brekker didn't even notice as he placed you in his lap; he was too busy to stop the bleeding until he found bloody Zenik. Where was she when he really fucking needed her?

"Shhh…. I know. Just try to hold on a little longer, okay? Nina and Jes will be here soon." he tried to calm you down by running his hand through your sweat-soaked hair. He rocked you back and forth, not knowing who he was trying to reassure—you or himself.

"We both know they won't make it on time."

"If you're wasting your energy talking, at least say something useful instead of talking nonsense, tidemaker." he growled at you, tightening his grip on you. "You're not getting away from me that fast. I didn't invest so much in you to make you leave before…" Until I tell you how much you mean to me... "Until we fill our vault with tonnes of Kruge."

"I could have predicted that even on my deathbed you'd be talking about the fucking Kruges." you laughed, coughing up some blood, which didn't calm his already madly beating heart. Where is that damn Zenik?

"Die in my arms and I promise I'll go back to hell for you. The devil can wait for you - I signed a pact with you first." you suddenly became serious, squeezing his gloved hand tighter and staring into his eyes as if they were the only stars in your dark sky.

"Kaz… I… I have to tell you…"

"Shut up, Y/L/N. You're not dying today." he snarled a warning, squeezing you so hard that he was sure to leave bruises on your arms. Panic rose in him as he felt your body slowly go limp, your breaths becoming less and less frequent.

"Kaz… I love you." you whispered, making him freeze in a daze. You only said those words in his wildest dreams. He had secretly dreamed of it many times, but certainly not like this. Not while your soul was slowly escaping from this cruel world unworthy of you.

He doesn't remember exactly when Nina came running, or how Jesper took you out of his arms, or how he kept up with Jesper's frantic pace as he ran with you in his arms.

But he surely was shaking all the way to the Crow Club. He only breathed a few hours after Nina announced to everyone that you would live. Then he left, without even entering your room to make sure Zenik's words were true, and locked himself in his office.

Tears began to fall from his eyes as he leaned against the door.

He could have lost you. Forever. Another person close to him.

His dreams would be tormented by the sight of your bloody corpse in some dirty alley. Again, he felt like that helpless little boy who had lost his brother. He found himself with Jordie THERE again.

Kaz couldn't go through all of it again. He wouldn't get up after your death. And there was only one thing he could do...

Fuck it all.

He needed you.

He was too exhausted to pretend any longer.

He was Kaz Brekker. He didn't need a reason. But his slowly dying heart without you seemed to be enough of an excuse to see you. Even if you're going to completely break it. Even the cold Bastard from the Barrel saw it as a good deal.

"JESPER!" he shouted, jumping out of his chair with his cane in hand.

"Yes?" his friend was at his side faster than ever.

"Tell the others to pack up. We're leaving in an hour." he muttered, taking out his travel bag from the wardrobe. Even without turning around, he knew a big smile had formed on Jesper's face.

We're going to get my girl back.

"About the damn time, Kaz." he patted him on the back and ran out of his office, telling the other crows the good news.

Your love I'm lost in Your love I'm lost in Your love I'm lost in Even though I'm nothing to you now Even though I'm nothing to you now

Kaz had been afraid of a few things in his life, but walking through the threshold of your new apartment seemed to be the most terrible of all his fears.

His crows obeyed him without objection for the first time in their lives and stayed at the hotel. He came here. On trembling legs and a rapidly beating heart. With his soul on his shoulder, ready to sacrifice and do anything to get you back. And if you didn't change your mind, it would be with a mind ready to carve your image into his memory so he could enjoy seeing you one last time in his miserable life.

Before he could change his mind, he knocked on the door.

He waited patiently, hearing footsteps approaching. He held his breath as the key turned in the lock.

But you weren't the one who opened the door for him.

"What?" a well-built, dark-haired man stood in the doorway.

Kaz began to compare himself to him, concluding that, when it came to appearance, he was superior to him in everything. He didn't stand a chance against someone like that for your heart. Doubts began to flood back into him. What if Nina was right?

"Are you going to stand here for half a day or..."

"Jackson!" your voice from the depths of the apartment shook Kaz. It froze him completely, irritating the man in front of him even more. "I need your help here, you big fool. What are you doing?" a moment later, you were standing in the vestibule. Your eyes met. Kaz shivered under your gaze, cursing himself for how quickly he fell under your spell as he stood there completely dazed.

"Y/N." your name came out of his mouth reverently, like a prayer, like a song long forgotten by a wanderer. You looked exactly the same as you did a few months ago. Except for the faint shadows under his eyes, which Kaz considered his greatest enemies.

"Kaz."

"Jackson. Hello there." the man waved at him, stepping between you. Jackson looked at you, worried. Kaz felt both anger welling up in him, a feeling of envy at how close you were with this strange guy, but also relief that you had someone close to take care of you. Not that you couldn't overcome the worst hell alone. He just felt relieved that you didn't have to. "Let him in, or should I kick his ass, wave?"

Wave? Did you two have nicknames for each other?

"It's all right. You can leave us." you said as you walked past him to face Kaz. The man behind you sighed, shaking his head.

"I hope you know what you're doing."

It might as well have been directed at Kaz. For the first time in his whole new Dirtyhands' life, he didn't have a plan, an emergency exit, or another backup plan. But now he was standing in front of you, staring at you helplessly as he absorbed your form. And that damn sea smell in your hair...

"Kaz."

"Y/N." he said as he came back down to earth. He took a small, calming breath. "How are you?"

"Really? Are you here just to ask how I'm doing?" she asked incredulously, folding her arms.

Kaz wrinkled his nose at your dry, angry tone. As he could see, it would be even more difficult than he thought. He stood in front of you, twirling his cane nervously in his hands.

"I'm here for a completely different reason, but I couldn't… I couldn't not come and see you." he admitted turning his gaze back to you after lowering his head in embarrassment.

"I'm alright. My brother and I are having a great time."

"Brother?" he asked. Relief and joy washed over him. Nor could he help himself to this naive hope, which began to warm his cold heart.

"Yes... Jackson. Who did you think he was?" he did not answer. You could have guessed. He knew you saw the flicker of jealousy in his eyes after that strange man called you a wave. You were his tidemaker, his wave, his sea, and all the fucking things. For a moment, he forgot that he was the one who had deprived himself of the right to claim against you. "You saw me, you asked how I was, so you can go now. Goodbye, Kaz." you were about to close the door on him, but at the last moment he put his cane between them, preventing you from doing so. You opened your door again, giving him a questioning look.

"Come back with me." he whispered, defeated. He couldn't let you go. Not again, not after there was still the slightest chance you might still want him.

"What?" you whispered softly, pretty sure you misheard him.

"There's no other reason why I'm here... I can't eat, I can't sleep, and I can't think or function like a normal person without you next to me. I'm one step away from daydreaming about you, hallucinating, and being insane that you're still by my side, so please... I'm begging you to come back to me. I know I don't deserve you and that I hurt you. You have every right to kick me out, but please, Y/N, just come home."

"What exactly am I supposed to come back to, Kaz? A cold, surly boss who is afraid of his feelings? Who doesn't hesitate to hurt me to protect his heart?"

"I'm not... I'm not good at this. Feelings. I... I don't know what it's like to love, but I know that when I'm with you... when I'm with you, nothing else matters. Not Ketterdam, not power, not Kruge, not wealth, not profit—nothing has ever been on my pedestal. Only you. Always you. And maybe I'm terrified of it, but now I know that I'd rather fight my own demons for you than let you go. I will try my best. If you still want me." he stared at you with undisguised hope in his eyes, only now realising how close he had come to you during your conversation. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek uncertainly. "I love you, Y/N... even if I'm nothing to you now." he murmured, risking everything and resting his forehead against yours with a sigh.

There must be something in the water Cause everyday it's getting colder And if only I could hold you You'd keep my head from going under

He inhaled your scent with his eyes closed, waiting for your move. Hope grew with him every second you continued to let him be so close to you.

"You're an idiot, Kaz Brekker." he didn't contradict or argue with you. He was a complete idiot, pushing you away and begging you to come back, all the while acting like a love-crazy fool… however, he wouldn't have it any other way if it meant you taking your place in his office again. If someday he could hold you in his arms… "You have lucky you're my idiot. With all of your bruises, scars, and everything else." you promised, hugging him tighter. You pulled away from him with serious eyes, making Kaz swallow. "But if you do that shit again, forget I'm coming back to you. Also, we need to seriously work on your communication, Brekker. Do you know how long I've had to struggle here with that other idiot who claims to be my brother?"

"I can hear all of it!" you sighed at your brother's grumbling and gave Kaz a meaningful look. Brekker smiled slightly, causing a matching goofy smirk to appear on your face.

"See? But seriously, I'm not kidding. Last chance, Kaz."

"A deal is a deal. You're never going anywhere without me again."

"A red flag!" your brother coughed from the kitchen. You rolled your eyes, grabbing the edge of Kaz's coat sleeve.

"Shut up, Jackson. I'm leaving, I'll be back in an hour! Try not to burn down the apartment, spitfire."

You didn't wait for his answer as you slammed the door behind you and stepped out with Kaz into the street. Brekker led you towards the hotel where the other crows were staying. His hand in yours, which did not escape your notice. You turned your head towards him, giving him a confused look, which made him smile slightly, shifting his gaze to the port and the sea.

At one point, he noticed that one of the waves "attacked" a trader, washing him over. He cursed so loudly that you could hear him even from this distance. Kaz shifted his gaze to you, immediately noticing the sly smirk on your face. Suddenly, the wallet fell from the sky right into your waiting hand, along with droplets of salty, cool water.

He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement as he pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. A self-satisfied smirk formed on his face after seeing your blush.

One day, he will be able to touch you without his gloves. Hold in your arms without layers of clothes on. He will do it. No matter how long it takes him to get rid of the greatest demon of his past. But something told him that you'd keep his head from going under the water again. His queen of waves. His crow. His anchor. And he will make sure that he holds you in his arms forever. 

#Spotify #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker #kaz x reader #masterlist #six of crows #oneshot #kazzle dazzle #kaz brekker x oc #kaz brekker x fem!reader #kasagia #kaz and jesper #nina zenik #inej ghafa #fools in love #angst with a happy ending #angst with a fluffy ending #fluff #missing someone #romance #flirting #ketterdam #the crows #jesper fahey #kaz x y/n #kaz x you #angst

[twilightarc-gm]

Why do you like jiang cheng?

At the risk of liking him for the wrong reasons, let me be verbose and annoying about it.

A short anecdote: I finished the donghua before the novel and I liked JC's aesthetic so I was happy to have that imagery in my head for the novel, but mostly I came out of the donghua like "cool story, the ending was frowny face though" and I came out of the novel like I was lost in the IKEA store "there's stuff here but it's not what I want and it's organized in a way that's hard to navigate through." Bit like giving me a puzzle to solve.

Anyway, imagine a cat bapping at a thing trying to get fandom to show me what to do with MDZS (i.e. reading fanfic) and then I come across anti-Jiang Cheng stuff.

//record scratch

I'm sorry what?

Why?

NO.

I started then on Shuangjie reconciliation fic and quickly evolved into Jiang Cheng "Apologist" ((I actually don't think he has anything to apologize for even if he would do so anyway.))

I've been in the xianxia/wuxia sphere of media consumption for a year or so before trying out MDZS and JC just fits so well as the main character of his own story; destined for a position of power through birth, friends with someone in his life that causes conflict, seemingly betrayed by said friend when needing that friend the most, losing and losing and losing as his trust in said friend proves unfounded because the friend walks a path he can't follow, and then he's left with the tragedy that befell the world because--ultimately he trusted this friend too much.

It's a classic story of love and attachment and how good intentions can have massive consequences. Two men entwined by fate and in the end there's a battle on a hill (off screen in this case) where one is forced to "kill" the other.

MDZS could have ended with the past timeline, and I would have liked it more but at least in the present timeline we get Jiujiu and a-Ling.

Anyway: Excerpts and Commentary Below about WHY I LOVE JIANG CHENG, courtesy WANYIN

Of all the clans to offend, you don’t offend the Jiang Clan, and of all the people to offend, you never offend Jiang Cheng.

We stand by a badass mf in this house. The first thing we learn is that he gets credit for killing a big baddy and the second thing we learn is how fierce the rest of his reputation is. He brooks no shit and leaves no quarter. Amazing 💜

Well, I was done for at "gaze like two streaks of cold lightning" so RIP me, I guess. Reminds me of some antis that are like "you only like him because he's hot" which isn't true but it is a nice plus. He's described as inferior to LWJ so like, if it was only about hotness then wouldn't I like LWJ???

“I am his uncle. Do you have any last words?”

At the sound of that voice, every drop of blood in Wei Wuxian’s body seemed to surge to his head but then immediately drained away again. Thankfully, his face was already a mess of ghastly white, so it didn’t look strange when he went a little paler.

A man in purple attire strode over. He was dressed in a narrow-sleeved light robe, with his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. A silver bell dangled from his waist, yet there was no sound when he walked.

This young man had fine brows and almond eyes, with a chiseled handsomeness to his features. His eyes were deep and intense with a hint of aggression, his gaze like two streaks of cold lightning. He stopped and stood three meters away from Wei Wuxian. His expression was like that of a nocked arrow on a bow, ready to shoot, and even his composure was suffused with arrogant pride.

Jiang Cheng ruled the Jiang Clan of Yunmeng alone, so it could have been said that he was in a state of isolation.

🥺 Alone?? And he could still afford 400 Immortal Binding Nets? Self-sufficient king 🤩 And like, his reputation is so fierce and he's boiling over with anger in that scene, but still he restrains himself because he did the cost-benefit analysis! And then later he takes a huge risk on WWX, like he always does for WWX, and that doesn't work out for him--like it always does.

Seeing that nothing had happened to Jin Ling, Jiang Cheng was greatly relieved. However, that relief soon turned into a furious reprimand:

Parent behavior. Enough said.

He has a twisted smile when encountering a trigger for his PTSD and then he decides to fight it instead of letting it paralyze him. He's such a doer. Like, every other moment of the day he's carefully calculating pluses and minuses to every choice (valid) but when it comes to facing his personal demons he's ready to throw down. Excellent.

A moment later, Jiang Cheng’s lips pulled into a twisted smile. His left hand subconsciously began stroking that ring once more.

He said softly, “Excellent. Back, are you?”

He let go of his left hand, and a long whip dangled from it.

“Oh? Then please enlighten me, what is your type?”

Walking A-Spec flag very concerned about what the man who might be his shixiong thinks about him, more at eleven!

Wei Wuxian waved him off and then hooked his arm around Jiang Cheng’s shoulders. “Who cares? I’ll tease him a bit more before I go. You’ve already collected my corpse so many times. Once more won’t hurt.”

Okay but big lol that JC doesn't get to collect WWX's corpse that final time. //sounds of sobbing

A smile appeared on his face, but then he immediately humphed.

He's so grumpy and adorable! I love him! pre massacre JC is precious and I just want him to have someone to bring out that smile again.

He literally didn't have to do this. He makes all these excuses how he'll be embarrassed if WWX is rolling around 😂 Perfection. Boy, you are still carrying him and he doesn't want you to stop.

Jiang Cheng, walk slower, you’re gonna throw me off.”

Not only did Jiang Cheng want to throw Wei Wuxian off, but he practically wanted to bash his head into the ground to create a human crater. “So fussy even though I’m carrying you!”

“I didn’t tell you to carry me,” Wei Wuxian reasoned.

Jiang Cheng flew into a rage. “If I didn’t carry you, I think you’d hang out at their ancestral hall all day, rolling around on the floor. I can’t afford this embarrassment! Lan Wangji took fifty more strikes than you, but he walked away on his own, and you’re not embarrassed, pretending to be an invalid? I don’t want to carry you anymore. Get the hell off!”

“No, I’m wounded,” Wei Wuxian said.

Alrighty, like I'm just going through the entire book at this point.

Let me see if I can make this more concise:

Sacrifices himself despite his very dutiful nature that would oppose this. He throws away all his responsibilities for WWX, again and again, carrying on a tradition of favoring WWX over his own health and happiness. Citing: JFM favoring WWX to the detriment of his marriage, JYL dying to save WWX, and JC (exhausted and with little or no power) running into danger to save WWX ala distracting the Wen patrol and 2nd Siege.

Can't be honest in his affections and makes up excuses to do nice things for others.

Loves and understands his sister. She wanted JZX so he made it happen when LLJ had absolutely no reason to reinstate the marriage contract between Xuanli. JGS notes in the CR arc that he didn't want the marriage for his son in the first place and that there were better options than YMJ, and that was before the war! JC helped her get to Yiling to show off her wedding dress! Even though she married out he still felt so attached to her son he couldn't not co-parent Jin Ling.

Yes, he has Zidian, but he also has a second horsewhip that he keeps on him which is very exciting to know.

The narrative hates him but he survives. (He survives because the narrative hates him).

Most BAMF entrance in the novel at the temple scene with the busting the temple doors down and coming in from the rain with an umbrella. Like sure the narrative hates him but small blessings that rule of cool still counts for something.

Mama's boy.

Just some dude, shows up late to treasury room nonsense, knows all the gossip, no one has faith in him including himself, but he keeps going and doing what needs to be done even when he's so so tired and his shixiong shows up 3 months late with a ghoul lady and a latte, or disappears to liberate slave property without warning first and now he's called into a midnight meeting after trying to get some much needed rest and now he's got consequences to deal with. Someone help him!

An expert at sneering. Threats as a show of worry and care. This makes all the little and brief smiles so much more endearing.

Sandu Shengshou is an amazing title, get out of here if you don't agree. Holy Hand of the Three Poisons? Brutal, perfect 💜 It gets used like, ONCE. Crime against me personally.

Link to Blorbo Sheet for JC

He loves, he hates, he wants to hate he's not allowed to love. Zero middle ground, he's all in and there's no way out.

//is shot and dragged off stage

But just as the Wei Wuxian of the past who’d extracted his golden core for Jiang Cheng had been unable to tell him the truth, the Jiang Cheng of the present could no longer bring himself to speak up.

#jiang cheng #canon jiang cheng #asks answered #twi posts #yunmeng shuangjie #quotes

[ceruleanwhore]

As I've been working on outlining the shit out of my Winx rewrite, I've been thinking a lot about how all the villains in the series desperately need to be treated like actual characters and given real motives. I know everyone loves Valtor and the Trix and the wizards of the black circle, but they're all equally boring as fuck because they're all just generically, black-and-white evil for no real reason. As such, I've started to come up with some potential backstories/motives for all of them, and I thought I'd share since I'd also love some feedback.

Something I think the series set up like it was going to do something with is the idea of the Trix having some sort of connection to the Ancestral Witches. If we keep what seems like the most canon timeline they appear to have settled on in the show, that the fall of Domino and everything happened about 18 years prior to season 3, then it wouldn't be unreasonable for the Trix to be the witches' granddaughters. I like the idea of that connection to the Ancestral Witches being the main thing that originally brought them together into their coven and that, as soon as they discover Bloom's true identity, their primary goal is killing her to finish what the witches started. With this, of course, would be the omission of bullshit rivalry between fairies and witches, though their ongoing conflict with the Winx could still start with Stella's ring, like in the original.

With Valtor, I would want him to be a person rather than a physical manifestation of the dragon flame that was made by the Ancestral Witches. I just think it would make him more interesting for him to have an origin story as a human, living in the world, that leads to his eventual corruption rather than him just being made evil by evil for evil. I have this vision of him coming from some country that was an ally of Domino but when something happened and they needed Domino's help, their allies turned their backs on them, inspiring Valtor's blossoming hatred for them as he personally suffered and watched the fallout of that betrayal. This all would've happened with the previous king and queen before Oritel and Marion btw, but it would take him a hot minute to learn the dark arts in order to pursue his revenge.

What I'd love to see is Valtor actually learning dark magic from Darkar, since I do also think Darkar should be a bigger deal than he was in canon. By learning from the Shadow Phoenix, who is the opposite of the Great Dragon, I feel like his magic would be both better suited to going against the dragon flame and more vulnerable to it. That would also bring back in some sort of dragon flame element without Valtor being a spark of the flame itself like in canon. So Valtor would gather the witches and attack Domino for personal revenge, with his focus being on ending the royal family, hence the way it all turned out with Daphne being a ghost, Oritel being a statue, Marion being sealed in his sword(?), and Bloom getting dumped out of a portal to spare her from the culling.

As for the wizards, I want them to be from Earth and for all their beef to be with Tir Na Og instead of just... all fairies, for no real reason. What I'm thinking is that Tir Na Og is the bridge between the Magic Dimension and Earth, so I take that to mean that Earth doesn't have any real magic of its own and what they have all comes from through Tir Na Og. Because of this imbalance that's so different from how the Magic Dimension is, that could put Earth-dwelling magic users in a position of power over non-magical people, and perhaps that all really starts with and is encouraged/exacerbated by the king and queen of the Earth fairies. I'm thinking it would be the sort of thing where they would've convinced all the non-magical people of Earth that they are deities of some kind and then abuse the shit out of the power and trust that gives them.

The wizards would've seen all the problems that would come with this abuse of power and would seek to destroy it. Knowing that all magic on Earth comes from Tir Na Og's connection to the Magic Dimension, they would decide to target Tir Na Og and take away the magic of all the magic users there before sealing the kingdom off from the Magic Dimension entirely. Their mission when they show up in s4 then becomes keeping Roxy from reconnecting Earth and the Magic Dimension and bringing back all the issues they originally sought to end.

Lastly, just to touch on Darkar, my main thing with him is that it really should be all about how he's the opposite of the dragon, so where the dragon flame creates, Darkar's shadows can only either mimic what already exists or destroy. Just as much as the creative nature of the dragon flame contributes to the dragon's desire to create, the nature of Darkar's powers contribute to his own desires to deceive and to destroy. It's not just that he's evil for the sake of it, he's evil to us because of the inherent nature of his magical abilities and how he himself is the living embodiment of what his powers represent, which I think adds sufficient depth for him to stop being so fucking boring. Also, Relix wouldn't just be the home of some McGuffin he's been chasing the whole time, I think it would actually be the resting place of the Great Dragon and his main goal would be the absolute destruction of everything (including himself) that could only be achieved by killing the dragon.

Thoughts? Feelings? Opinions? Should I go on and also dither on about villains from later seasons?

#winx club #winx #winx rewrite #winx club rewrite #the trix #valtor #wizards of the black circle #ogron #winx anagan #winx ogron #winx gantlos #winx duman #darkar #winx villains

[acapelladitty]

Morgott/Reader - Teasing (Kinktober #8)

Summary - Enjoying a very private moment with the Omen King, you tell Morgott an interesting tale which has a very wicked and ulterior motive for you both to enjoy.

“Filthy tarnished, thy tongue is as soiled as thy undergarments.” A gnarled finger brushed the scant fabric which covered your sex and even the light touch drew a keening sigh from your lips as his finger came away damp. Heat building in your groin, you roll your hips against his lap, teasing the thick, hardened length which remained hidden away below his tattered robe.

“My tongue is talented in many ways, my king. Allow me to show you.” With a coquettish flutter of lashes, you extend your hand towards his palm and wait for permission.

He complies quickly and the weight of his hand dwarfing your own is almost enough to make you giggle but you bite it back in an instant. Instead, you curl your hand around his finger to bring the dampened digit to your mouth.

“Tarnished-” Morgott mutters but cuts himself off with a hitched breath as you part your lips and flick your tongue along the pad of his finger.

You taste yourself, the cooling tang of your own arousal flooding your mouth as you press forward to suckle at the tip of his finger; teeth threatening the rough skin there as you swirl your tongue around the digit to pull it in further. Giving it all the attention you would soon be providing to another, very pronounced part of his anatomy as it noticeably twitched beneath your cunt.

Morgott growled at the display, the rumble of the sound coursing through you like a vibration and you immediately decide that you will do whatever it takes to make him do it again.

“My king?” You ask, pulling his finger free of your mouth long enough to glance up at him with wide, questioning eyes that brim with faux innocence.

His hands drop to wrap around your waist, pinning you in place as his mouth dips forward to press against the shell of your ear.

“Don’t think I will be fooled by that virtuous gaze.” Morgott mutters and his hot breath against your skin makes you shiver. “You forget that I have enjoyed the deviancies that you offer so willingly. No innocent maiden would dare to spread her legs so willingly for such a monster.”

“You caught me.” You gasp out, tilting your head to allow him to run his lips along your exposed neck, his sharp teeth grazing the skin in a deliciously threatening way. “Now what will you do with me, my king?”

“Hmm,” Morgott considered his options, “perhaps I should force thee to thy knees? Have thee service thy king like a true whore should?”

His hand wraps around your waist and the sheer power and strength which radiates from his grip as he easily plucks you from his lap and drops you gently to the floor before him takes your breath away. The floor is chilly beneath your knees and you shuffle uncomfortably as you seek out a position which is a little more enjoyable – your eyes never shifting from the thick heft of his cock as it now juts free of his tattered robe.

Much like the omen himself, his cock is monstrous. As thick as your wrist and mottled by a pinkish hue which extends out into his reddened cockhead, his entire length is dotted with small barbs which almost seem to curl against your fingers as you brush against them. Soft and only slightly textured, you had long since discovered their sensitivity and your elbows fan out across Morgott’s knees as you stroke your hand along his cock, your fingers unable to touch due to the girth.

“Shall I tell you a story, brave Omen King?” You ask, enjoying how responsive he is being as his body shudders beneath your gentle ministrations.

Caught off guard by the question, his expression quirks for a moment before settling into heated amusement. Morgott nods, his eyes gazing down at you as you remain in what must be a delightfully submissive position before him.

“In my village, the older girls would whisper a story around the fires late at night.” You began, using his undivided attention to your advantage as your hands fumble messily with the head of his cock before slipping to down to cup his balls. “Only when all the men were gone, and the little ones had fallen asleep. Isadora and her Beast, is what they called it.”

Rutting slightly into your hand as he fought to keep his control, Morgott’s fingers were curled around the arms of his chair and his knuckles were visibly white with the effort of keeping them there.”

“Yes?” He encourages, his tone tight and strained.

“Isadora was a maiden, one of great beauty, who spent most of her days down by the riverside washing her bed rags and clothing.” Pumping his length, you match the cadence of your tale with your hand for added emphasis, making note of the clear droplets of release which were weeping freely from his slit. “One day, after the sun had begun to set across the way, she was set upon by a pack of wolves. Terrifying beasts which all the locals feared due to their ferocity, Isadora quickly found her shift dress ripped to shred by the beasts as they attempted to tear at her with their teeth.”

“Poor maiden, foolish for her to journey alo-.”

“Silence, my king. This is my story.” You hush, tapping a finger along his cockhead to silence him as his hips buck into your fingers. “But Isadora was quickly saved from certain death. As she cowered by her wash basket, a beast of monstrous size set upon the wolves, driving them off just as quickly as they had appeared. It was a creature of old, a monster which stood over her like the evening sky and it gazed down at her with a hunger which sparked a heat in her exposed skin – her heart racing as warmth spread through her most intimate parts.”

Morgott’s eyes were lidded as they gazed down at you, his head tilting as his fangs peeked free of his curled lips – eagerly anticipating the next part of the tale as his cock jerked within your grip. So focused on your task, your other hand dipped beneath your skirt and your breath jumps in your throat as you provide some relief to your aching cunt, your fingers quickly growing slippery due to your arousal.

“As reward for saving her, she told the beast to do what it wished with her. To use her how it desired, and desire is what it sought. The beast set upon her, knocking her roughly to the ground and tearing what remained of her shift from her skin. It used its claws. It used its tongue. It ravaged her in a way that no man ever had, and Isadora screamed her ecstasy to the heavens as the beast took her.”

“Filth.” Morgott growled, watching with interest as your free hand continued to move beneath your skirt – his nose flaring as he scented the fresh arousal in the air. “You sound as though you admire her.”

“I sometimes wondered, when I lay in my own bed in the dark of the night - my hand moving between my thighs, slickened by my own need as it is now - if I would have been as brave in her situation.”

“Bravery is not lacking within you, common sense perhaps, but never bravery, foolish tarnished.”

Squeezing the tip of his cock, his teasing words dropped into a bestial gasp – one which showcased every one of his sharpened teeth as his head reclined and his cock twitched in your grasp, desperate for more as it leaked pre-cum freely.

“I asked you what you were going to do with me, my king.”

“Indeed you did, my light.”

Pulling your fingers free of your cunt, you rise to unsteady feet and press your digits to his lips – gasping in delight as his tongue does not hesitate in slipping free to wrap around your fingers and pull them greedily to his mouth, tasting you with earnest.

“Ravage me. Take me in such a way that the tale of Isadora and her beast would feel shame to even be put into comparison. By claw, by tongue, and by cock. Make me yours in such a way that no other could ever compare.”

The growl which slips past your fingers as they remain within Morgott’s mouth sparks a deep shudder across your skin as you relax your frame, ready for your beastly king to once again take what is rightfully his.

#morgott the omen king #morgott the grace given #elden ring morgott #morgott x reader #elden ring #fromsoft #Soulsborne #morgott x you #smut

[alpacahat67]

Jareth x Sarah - How It's Worse Than the Age Gap.

Now, from what I can tell, no sane person in the Tumblr Labyrinth fandom ships Jareth x Sarah. Most people who do ship it are either insanely out of the loop, or are middle-aged women who think David Bowie is hot (who could blame them.) It's not something I see that's a problem often. Because as we all grew older, we gained this thing called hindsight. And we were able to realize that, hey, maybe an immortal fae king chasing after a 16-year-old girl is... a bit creepy! This is completely valid, and I agree!

But I often think about how it's a common experience to only be hit with that realization when entering adulthood or teenage years. Why didn't we realize it sooner? And I think I have the answer.

It was about Sarah's desire for Jareth. Not Jareth's desire for Sarah. And it always has been.

Which is why people still actively pushing the ship is not only weird, but it completely negates the entire purpose of Sarah going into Jareth's labyrinth to find her baby brother! And erases all of the character growth she endured!

Now, in order to explain this, we need to take a more allegorical approach to "Labyrinth" as a whole. More specifically, "Labyrinth" as an allegory for growing up, Sarah's transition from girlhood to womanhood. Of course, many people have pointed out the allegories within the film, but we really need to dig in deep here.

"Labyrinth" is a coming-of-age film for Sarah (and, arguably, Jareth, but this isn't about him), she starts the movie as a spoiled, unlikable brat who has to leave behind her selfishness to save someone she loves. She loves all these little insignificant things at the beginning of the film, perhaps more than her brother from an audience's perspective! One look around her bedroom shows that, despite her being a teenage girl, she's stuck in her childhood.

When she wishes Toby away, she has to leave that behind. Because the labyrinth is an unforgiving place and nothing is fair, and Sarah is used to getting what she wants. Who's the person standing most in her way? Jareth. He's older, he's sexy, he's dangerous, he's charming, and he looks like the rockstars Sarah loves. He even looks like the man her mother seems to have run off with, based on the photos in her room! (I have some theories about him too but no matter.) All these factors lead to Sarah being attracted to Jareth. Because, well, what nerdy teenage girl wouldn't be!

Except, Jareth's entire purpose is to keep Sarah from reaching her goal, getting her brother back. His purpose is to, in essence, allow her to give into what she wants, to remain a kid forever. To play with her toys and costumes and "forget about the baby", if you will. At the end of the film, he practically asks for her entire livelihood and says he's asking for little because he's done so much to keep her happy. And while that may be true, he has done a lot, happiness isn't what she needs to grow or what she needs to get her brother back, so she rejects him.

Jareth is the physical embodiment of Sarah's dreams, and that is intentional! Again, going back to the allegory sense, I believe that Jareth is representative of that urge to remain young. Which is why Sarah's rejection of his advances is so crucial, and why her attraction to him is important to her character's growth.

By rejecting Jareth, Sarah is allowing herself to grow up, because she's rejecting her childish, selfish, stubborn ways.

Feeling drawn to Jareth shows Sarah being drawn to the simplicity of childhood. Yet she's growing up against her will, because it's something we all go through, and perhaps this could be represented in Toby being taken by the goblins. And when she says that Jareth has no power over her, that's when she comes to terms with growing up and becoming a woman. It's something we all do. Her past has no power over her.

And with Jareth representative of these things, it dampens how weird that age gap feels. It never focuses on Jareth's attraction to Sarah, because the character growth he experienced would have happened whether or not he loved her romantically, and he objectively is not the protagonist, we aren't supposed to like him. But if Sarah had no feelings for Jareth, she might not have ever changed. And she is also the protagonist, she's supposed to be somewhat likable by the end of the film. By not paying much attention to the adult's attraction to the minor, "Labyrinth" deals with a situation such as this one... very well, in my opinion. Even if maybe the adult never should've reciprocated in the first place.

...All of this is why I find it more weird than others when I see ship content of these two, I think, even with Sarah aged up as an adult. By creating a universe where Sarah never went after Toby or stayed with Jareth, one is... practically killing all her growth throughout the movie. Allowing her to remain selfish and ignorant. Which would be letting Jareth "win" in a sense. Hence why Jareth x Sarah is worse than just the age gap.

#this was written on sweet tea and a dream sorry if it makes no sense #you get it right? #ramblings #labyrinth #labyrinth 1986 #jareth the goblin king #sarah williams

[handkinkbis]

Show review: Destined with You.

So.... I might be in the minority, but as much as I enjoy Rowoon on screen I didn't start watching the show for him.

I was hoping for a witch/shaman Hongjo kdrama to finish near the eve of Halloween as the show seemed to be promising (very logically it seemed to be heading that way!). And she did cast some spells to my pleasure, but to my massive displeasure her witch arc was entirely forgotten about in favor of... not even sure what that kidnapping sequence was all about. Somehow most of Hongjo's agency as a character vanished into the ether as well during the past few episodes. Her character growth consisted of building the confidence to stand up to Nayeon, but her stubborn self reliance fueled by a lifetime of loneliness and trauma (her mother! Her father!!!!) stayed and was left unaddressed. And not to be dramatic, but I might die mad about it.

So past lifes were real, the curses and spells were real, Aengcho was really a shaman and the Gardener for whatever reason (also unexplored) wanted to marry Hongjo in the next life. But Hongjo in current day went from a strong, feisty character who was ready to spell cast her way in and out of trouble into... someone to intentionally get herself kidnapped??

It's like this show was written in the 2000s to early 2010s AND it hated women. I had high hopes for Ms. Ma, Shinyu's mother and Eunwol, but they were done DIRTY by this show. Hongjo's storyline was forgotten. Aengcho got relatively less attention compared to Mujin/Rowoon. It's like the main character changed somewhere and it became Shinyu/Mujin. Shinyu and Jaekyung had their cool lawyer moments (good stuff) and Hongjo got... Nayeon arrested? Nayeon, who was another villain without a proper depth or motivation other than being a 2010s kdrama era Mean Girl. Again, Hongjo and Aengcho were done so dirty. Even Shinyu's poor abused mother went back to her abusive husband AND she got pregnant. That was just tragic!

And kindly don't try to tell me that my reasons to dislike this show are wrong - I've every right to review and hate how badly this show butchered the stories of the female characters in this show even if Rowoon was hot in a bunch of scenes like that's going to compensate for it. I am not a Rowoon stan. 🤷‍♀️ I like him just fine, but it's been frustrating to watch as a non-stan since some stans seem to take any critique of the show as a slight towards Rowoon himself. But he has nothing to do with the writing, so put down your pitchforks, ok.

They should've stuck with the office romcom or made the show into a sageuk and dropped the false advertising of the show as a magic/fantasy drama. The sageuk era episodes SLAPPED. They were tense, beautifully shot and interesting, Aengcho had her moment! I LOVED her in her faceoff with the King, she was powerful and terrifying in that. And as soon as I fell in love with her, Mujin killed Aengcho (in a very meta symbolic way) and that was that. The show itself killed Aengcho and Hongjo.

This show was written to give Rowoon his cool and sexy moments. This was the Rowoon fan service show. Which is fine, but LEAD with that info then. I did enjoy Hongjo and Shinyu together and there were a couple of fun or emotionally compelling episodes, but I didn't finish with positive feelings about the show unfortunately because of the finale.

The writing of the show was exceptionally uneven and erratic. It seemed like from a different decade, but not this one. The relationship between Hongjo and Shinyu was mostly wholesome, but not always the healthiest for several reasons. Shinyu didn't always treat Hongjo well (and vice versa) and he made some decisions for Hongjo in true 2010s kdrama patriarch style.

Hongjo&Shinyu get 7/10 for being adorable and lovable. Loved their relationship development very much. I'm glad they didn't rush to have kids or to marry. The proposal at the beach while addressing Hongjo's dad was endearing.

Plot gets a 3/10 rating. There was potential... and it slipped through the writer's fingers. Loose threads were left untied. Side plots were abandoned or seemingly forgotten about.

Would I rewatch again? Maybe once I stop fuming about how Hongjo was treated by the show, but just for the Shinhong scenes. But it'll take some wound licking and fixit fic writing.

Please universe, give Boah better scripts. She's a wonderful actress and she deserves a role that's cool and that lets her showcase her talent. Many viewers seemed to lose their patience with her, even though the writing of the show was the true issue.

#destined with you #show review #it's mostly not positive so don't read if you can't deal with that ok #still glad to have chatted and raved with you all about the show #just very unhappy with the lost potential of the show plotwise #and thank you in advance for your understanding i just got very attached to hongjo as a character

[rollingstrollingthrough]

Hot take: Poseidon wasn't the first god to die because of his arrogance. He was the first one to fall because he wasn't happy as one.

It's literally right there, from the moment we meet him. He avoids eye contact to an extreme, with very few exceptions. Adamas complains that Poseidon never looked him in the eye, not even as a baby. And no, I don't think even a baby of the gods would be aware enough to avoid eye contact out of arrogance.

And even more telling, once we get to know him a bit? He acts like he thinks he should act, not like how he wants to be. His explanation of how a god should be is defined in absolutes, and it stays exactly the same. It's less like hearing his own thoughts on the subject and more like he's parroting something he's heard time and time again. When he speaks, it's mostly without inflection. He keeps to the bare essentials of what he wants to convey. And he has clear cut rules, after which he lives his life.

Shouldn't a god live in a place reflecting of his status? His palace... it pales in comparison with his those of his brothers. It's outside and inside are bare, plain, broken down to a minimum of what is acceptable to live in as a king. And not as a king of the gods, but the minimum of what a human king would accept. There is barely anything there to stimulate either him or any visitors. And yet... it offers the best view on what his true personality is like.

But didn't he show his true face face during the battle with Sasaki? There, he gets loud, there he gets mean, there he gets cruel. There, he ...acted like one would expect a god to act? He was the literal stereotypical representation of an arrogant god faced with a lowly human. And he acted exaclty as was expected of him. The other gods made it clear enough: they consider him the god of gods. And expect him to act that way. And Poseidon knows his role, knows what is expected of him. And he hates it. The look he threw them, when they were chanting for him couldn’t have been any more clear. His disgust was felt. And I argue that it was not disgust for the other, lowly gods, but rather for the role he was once again put in. The expectation he could never escape?

Look at him. Listen to him. Does he seem happy with his life? His eyebags are right there. The subtle slump in his shoulders is right there. His disconnection from the other gods is right there.

And isn't it fascinating? When you remove the gods that don't know him better, you see that he was loved. That seemingly alloof, cruel god was loved. His servant cried for him. The same servant that must have seen Poseidon at his most comfortable, in his own home, who must have learned to not assume that expectation and reality are the same. Hades loved his brother not because of his status as gog but because he is his sibling, and when he showed him that, by taking care of the problem by himself, so that the others could focus clearly on the attck that they knew about... Poseidon returned that affection. Becuse he realized that Hades didn't put those expectations in him.

And that castle. That tiny, sad castle is the truest representation of Poseidons character. Like him, it is bare, hollowed out. Alone. And aching with the separation. With the loneliness of it. When Sasaki tells him that he never felt friendship before - that cuts deep. Because it is true. Poseidon doesnt know how to escape the the reality he finds himself in. Doesnt know how to cast of those expectations, because expectations and their clear rules are all he has ever lived by.

And that is why he dies.

Tell me... would you expect a god to use his full power to defeat a mere human? No. It would go against every expectation. A god is supposed to be strong, strong enough to handle whatever a human throws at him. And so, Poseidon dies. Because using his control of water to win would go against the very rules of his existence. He is a god. So he has to behave like one.

And so he dies as one. Seemingly felled by his own hubris. Because he was too arrogant, the stereotypical bad guy.

But more probably he dies because the expectations were too much for him. Like a fish in a net that is drawing closer and closer until it strangles the fish caught within.

And... despite him cursing Sasaki in his last moments, I think Poseidon was glad to be losing, to be dying. Because in his case, death meant freedom, meant an escape from the net that had been strangling him since his birth.

#poseidon #ror #record of ragnorak

[sepublic]

I really am obsessed with the idea of the Collector being the perfect parallel and foil to King, as the person he once saw himself as, and will become; A feared and revered, all-powerful tyrant, but also immature and who was never told no. And after losing his power and being reduced to just a little kid, the Collector is forced to mature and grow and interact with people as REAL people, and eventually finds out that he’s not really so cruel or evil himself, once he’s made to choose between power and his family!

Like it’d just be so narratively poetic, if King had to confront his worst past self via a true fulfillment of that in the Collector; Who already has an army worshipping his name! Imagine the Collector having feasts with King, just as King himself bragged! It’s like Luz confronting the worst version of herself in Philip Wittebane...

Which is why I really hope the Collector’s fate is to simply be... Stripped of his power and forced to live as a little kid, as King thought he himself had been. We know that people have imprisoned the Collector before, that he’s been freed before, and then trapped again, and it didn’t make a damn difference. He still didn’t learn his lesson, and with how the show critiques Philip for trying again and again the same thing he KNOWS has been proven to fail, via cloning his brother...

And I have to wonder if TOH is doing the same, especially if we compare the Collector to Luz in a lot of ways, how the isolation of the reality camp probably wouldn’t have helped Luz, just hurt and broken her because of rejection. Maybe the Collector’s imprisonment was also like that for them, and while obviously there’s a real difference between Luz and the Collector’s chaos... I think both stemmed from that unthinking desire to have fun while innocently not considering those who might get hurt from it.

And it makes sense, a parallel and foil to King would be one for Luz and vice-versa, because Luz and King are themselves parallels to one another! It’d be poetic if King even had to guide a depowered Collector when all was said and done; Understandably he might not want to after what happens in Season 3. But I think it could really further that cycle of kindness theme that this show has, and be incredibly compelling for King’s arc, to face the person he wanted to be and thought he was, and help THEM with it this time; He did learn many lessons while under the impression he was a knocked-down god, so King sort of still can relate!

Like King, it might be shown that the Collector really is fully capable of being a sweet kid, who might talk hot shit of destroying everyone and razing the world after he’s knocked down a peg; But then it becomes apparent how easily he’s placated with proper attention. How he’s not malicious and when made to face actual consequence, can really learn and take that into consideration.

Plus with King’s lifespan going to make him outlive everyone else, he needs that long-living friend who will actually BE a friend to him this time and relate to King, via the Collector! And the Collector can get closure over any betrayal he perceived from the Titans with the last of them, and make up for his genocide of them by supporting the final one.

The Collector would essentially be what we once analyzed King as back in Season 1, and that’d just be SO fascinating and a wonderful bookend to the show! Maybe the Collector will lose a ‘crown of power’ and/or be struck down by a dark spell... Because the show really is aiming for the idea that to truly break pain for kids like Luz and Amity and Hunter, you just have to treat them with compassion instead of punishment over their mistakes for once.

TL;DR This isn’t just a coming-of-age story for a good portion of our cast, hell it’s a coming-of-age for the Collector as well! And if it’s King’s friends/supporters who help cast down the Collector... Then that’d just be a perfect karmic parallel to the implication of the Collector’s worshippers, the Titan Trappers, taking everything from King by killing his father!

We might even get a parallel to a familiar shot, with the POV of the Collector as he falls from the sun and its power he’s associated with; Just as King believed his fall to be metaphorical. Perhaps the Collector will be in the embrace of another as it happens, like King with Jean-Luc... And/or Jean-Luc himself will return to be a nanny to this kid, indestructible and immortal enough to keep up the task!

#the owl house #king clawthorne #the owl house collector #luz noceda #parallels #foils #speculation #theory #meta

[dasphinxone]

SUPER ANGSTY Relationship Dynamics where no one ends up truly happy 😒

I blame the weirdly hot chemistry of how Attuma put his rebreather on Shuri for this weird-ass, rare pair of them.

Namor hurt Shuri far too much for them to ever be in a relationship. The alliance holds but Shuri is extremely formal and distant with him. Namor regrets for the rest of his long-ass life how he killed her mother and waited far too long to make amends...if he ever truly even tries to do so in the first damn place.

Okoye feels the same about Attuma. He humiliated her on that bridge. As far as she's concerned, he contributed to directly setting in motion everything that led to the murder of Ramonda and herself being stripped of her command. Okoye will never forgive Attuma and he's dead to her. She leaves Wakanda to wander and find herself, doling out justice.

This results in Shuri and Attuma hooking up. It's just sex. It's physically satisfying but there's no love. They're both incredibly honest with each other in that and come to eventually realize there is no way they can be with the people either pursuing them or who rejected them.

Meanwhile, M'Baku remains king and Shuri refuses to take the throne until some years later. By then, Nakia moves back to Wakanda when T'Challa Jr. is an older teenager. Shuri formally introduces him to Wakanda and officially makes him heir to the throne.

In order to get the Tribal Council off her back about her marriage prospects, she proposes marrying Attuma. Again, they don't love either and are in mourning for what their lives could have been since it could have been different. But they respect each other. Marriages, especially royal ones, have been made on far less. Plus, the union will bring Talokan and Wakanda closer together.

They invite Namor and Okoye to the wedding. Neither shows up, though Namor gives his blessing and an incredible wedding gift. Okoye sends her regards as well but stays abroad and finds a happy marriage. She is truly content and all goes well for her.

Shuri rules as Queen while Attuma refuses to take a title beyond Prince Consort since he has zero desire for any sort of political power. He is content to remain a general and protect his wife from harm.

It is not love, nor does it ever blossom into it. But it is enough for both of them since they will never have their true loves. For Namor destroyed any chance of that with his initial aggression.

They end up having one kid and then twins. T'Challa Jr. loves his cousins and there is never any strife over the throne since Shuri makes it extremely clear that he is heir.

Wakanda and Talokan become true allies and never go to war. They protect each other against the colonizers and the rest of the world.

Attuma outlives Shuri. When she passes, their children are fully grown and they have great-grandchildren. Attuma returns to Talokan full time but passes away soon after, he and a shark killing each other during one of his hunts. There are whispers that he purposely chose to go out that way and on his own terms due to his broken heart.

Okoye lives a natural life span and passes away. She has no regrets leaving Wakanda to find herself. She had a good life.

Namor continues to live on. While he destroyed his chances with Shuri, he makes an oath to always guard her progeny as well as T'Challa Jr. He never breaks his promise, the descendents of the Golden Tribe granted a legendary protector through the ages.

Shuri meets Attuma at the crossroads to their respective ancestral planes. She's the happiest he's ever seen her. She asks him where his spirit will go.

He gives her a sad smile before thanking her for her grace in the relationship they shared. He's glad they were honest with other about how it wasn't true love. He respects her and did indeed love their children. He is proud for his part in bringing their kingdoms together and keeping them safe from the wretched colonizers.

However, he vows he will find his soulmate in his next life. And this time, he will fight to have his warrior by his side, no matter the cost.

Shuri grants him her full blessings before she turns to join her ancestors while he heads towards another life cycle.

That night, Namor happens to visit the surface world and witnesses two falling stars. He sends up a silent prayer to his gods to protect those who have moved on from this life. All while he continues to suffer the consequences for what he's done in his current one for ages to come.

A king with a crown who continues to rule one of the most powerful nations on earth. Yet truly, a man sin amor.

#okoye x attuma #attuma x okoye #but not really due to the tragedy of circumstance #okoye #general okoye #attuma #attuma of talokan #attuma x shuri #shuri x attuma #angst #alternate universe #fanfiction prompts #I'M SORRY FOR ALL THE ANGST AND DRAMA #namor #namor of talokan #shuri #princess shuri #wakanda forever #black panther wakanda forever #unhappy ending #sad ending #fanfic au

[panda-of-the-trash]

I give you Crossmare

Sorry for any typos

________________________________________________________________________________________

Had someone asked Nightmare a few eons ago what he´d think his future would look like, he would have given a few answers.

Maybe he´d be king, leading their people alongside his sister to greatness and glory, keeping the peace in their lands as each was predestined to do.

Maybe he would have given up his powers, his responsibilities and lead a normal, much more mundane life. Run his own little bakery,selling all sorts of apple-related goodies and retire to his home with a cup of hot coco and a good book, joined by the company of a cat or two.

Or maybe he´d travel and learn all sorts of new things, meet new people and embrace new cultures and customs. He´d write about all he´d see and publish books about the wonders of all the words, bring back gifts for his sister whenever he´d made the journey back home. Oh how he hoped that one was possible.

But most likely, he would continue to stay by his mother´s tree with his sister, take care of the tree and protect it. Do the same things all day, every day, for eons on end. He´d probably also still get bullied by the other villagers for spreading his ´foul negativity´ and hold back tears in Dream´s presence as not to alarm her. Maybe he´d find strength to stand up for himself or ignore his bullies. Either way he doubted much would change.

He had certainly not expected this.

Opening his good eye, he observed his slumbering partner. A tan body littered with dark freckles, the other looked tense in his sleep as he always did. Carefully wrapping one of his tentacles around his waist, he pulled his lover closer gently, happy to see his tenseness melt away slowly by the familiar feeling of his husband´s embrace.

Quite honestly he didn´t know what he did to deserve to be in the presence of such an angel, much less be married to him.

Reaching out to play with one of his snow white curls, Nightmare observed his husband further.

Cross was currently 4 months pregnant with their first and it showed. Smiling, he softly ran a tentacle over the little baby bump where their child grew. Cross gave a quiet hum in his sleep, enjoying the affection. Nightmare was glad the other still seemed to be asleep, for now atleast. Bearing their child was no easy task. Getting pregnant was easy, but staying pregnant?

They had tried so many solutions already and their current one seemed to be working in keeping both Cross and their baby alive. That wasn´t to say his lover wasn´t affected. Nightmare had ordered him to stop training and rest more and like a loyal servants, he had listened. But even though he slept for hours on end, he was always tired. So seeing him asleep now, it soothed Nightmare, knowing that Cross was both getting well needed rest and felt safe enough to slumber for so long with him.

Still playing with his hair, Nightmare began to ponder over their history.

From the outside he must admit that their arrangement looked like a loyal guard stopping at nothing to protect his king. And while that might´ve been still very true, the reality was that Nightmare was willing to do anything and everything to keep Cross safe. Being deprived from any kind of love for so long, well..it had sort of just happened when Cross came to be a guard of his.

It wasn´t that any other person hadn´t been loyal, quite au contraire, there had been many a loyal servants just like him. But what set him appart from the others was his understanding of things. Cross knew that their cause, what they were doing and fighting for, wasn't exactly right in general, but it was the right thing for them. While the others idolized Nightmare and refused go see his flaws, Cross saw him for who he was, a king, a god yes, but also a man, in need of just a little bit of respect, kindness and love. And when Nightmare had first felt the guard´s feelings that night many moons ago, the flood gates had simply opened and there was absolutely no stopping them.

When he finally confessed, he could´ve sobbed with relief when Cross returned his feelings. Their relationship wasn´t perfect by any means, they had their ups and downs, but they always chose to go through everything together. Nightmare felt himself fall even harder for Cross, learning so much about him, good and bad. There were moments where the only reason he wanted to go on was for the other. Because Cross believed in him, he could believe in himself aswell. And now with a child on the way..

Stopping the movements of his hand,Nightmare observed as Cross stirred and awoke with a small groan, snuggling into the warmth and comfort his husband provided.

Nightmare gave a soft chuckle, pressing a loving kiss to his darling´s temple. "Morning~"

While this wasn´t the future he was expecting.

He found that he didn´t mind it at all.

#crossmare #nightcross #crightmoss #cross sans #nightmare sans #anya writes

[thirsty-lakedream]

The Ross Experience

This month had been absolutely terrible. I got blamed for dropping the ball on an important case and now I feel like I’m walking on eggshells with the whole firm. Then I spent all weekend trying to get tickets to see The Driver Era, specifically Ross Lynch. He was my closet childhood crush watching his Disney days and the main reason I watched The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina. When I heard he was touring, I dreamed of the chance to see him live, but alas, the show sold out before I could get a chance. I was so bummed, but when I told my boyfriend he promised me that he would make my dreams come true.

I didn’t know what he meant by that until I woke up the morning of the concert date to find Howard was missing. Looking around I found a note with my name on it on the kitchen table. It was from him, “Hey babe, I promised I would make your dreams come true. Get dressed and follow the directions on this letter. Knock twice on the door to find your surprise!”

A bit confused I followed the letter’s instructions, which eventually led me to a hotel near the concert venue. Outside, I saw a group of people holding signs in hopes of seeing the Lynches who were probably staying at the hotel for the show. The thought of seeing Ross pass by made me think of waiting around, but I knew Howard was likely waiting inside. The letter led me to a hotel room on the top floor, the I stood there for a moment, slightly nervous for why awaited me but confidently gave two hard knocks at the door. I didn’t hear a response for a moment, but when someone answered I could not believe my eyes.

“Hey, you’re Dereck right? Glad you could make it.” Ross Lynch gave his heart-melting smile. “Come on in.”

My jaw fell agape as my celebrity crush was not only talking to me, but inviting me into his room. Still trying to process everything, I walked into the suite. It was a really nice hotel room, almost like an apartment. There was some furniture and a giant king bed. I guess a celebrity like him would be used to treatment like this, but I was more engrossed with him. Watching him on TV and his music videos didn’t hold a candle to him in person. I couldn’t help but stare at his gorgeous face. He was wearing a wife-beater that clung tight to his rippling muscles. I tried to stop myself from getting a hard on, but my thin jersey shorts did little to hide it.

He looked down and chuckled, “Oh I see that someone’s excited to meet me? Here, let me help you with that.” Without second thought, he placed his hand firmly on my crotch, the touch irresistibly turning me on further. His other arm swung around my neck, pulling in my body further and making my knees weak.

Before I allowed myself to fall into my carnal desires, I snapped back into reality. “Wait!” I stepped back, from his touch, “I- I can’t. As much as I want to… have a boyfriend.”

“Don’t worry about Howard,” he chided, taking a confident step towards me. “He’s actually the one who set all this up. Trust me, he’s perfectly aware of anything that goes on here.” Taking my cheeks into his strong hands, he pulled me in for a passionate kiss. My mind was racing with all kinds of confusing thoughts, but if Ross Lynch knew my boyfriend’s name, then he actually was telling the truth. At least that’s what my desperate mind rationalized. Gradually, I accepted the kiss, taking his tongue into my mouth.

In our fervent kiss we moved onto the bed and quickly started undressing. He pulled down my shorts revealing my dick, hungry for release. His was also grown full mast and ready for a good time. He was powerful, yet knew how to be delicate, taking time to pleasure me every way my boyfriend knows I like and then some. Eventually my body collapsed to the now-unkempt bed, hot and sweaty though unbelievably satisfied.

Ross Lynch was standing across the room, sliding back on his pants. “So how was that?”

In pants, I mustered out, “Amazing…”

His smile was intoxicatingly sweet. “Well, in addition to that, I also want you to have this.” From the table he picked up a lanyard and tossed it to me. It was a vip pass to the show tonight.

“Wow, this is all I ever dreamed of. I can’t believe Howard set this up for me.”

“Well believe it. Are you ready for one last surprise?” Ross gave me an intriguing look. What else could he possibly give me to make this night even better? I cautiously consented to his question. Ross then reached behind his head, searching for something. And with one quick pull, I witnessed his head shifted unnaturally. It was like his face begin to disfigure and fold under itself like it was fabric! He continued to do this until his whole head crumpled and fell to his chest revealing-

“Howard??”

“Hi Dereck, surprised?” Sitting upon the body of Ross Lynch was the head of my boyfriend. He was bathed in sweat, panting heavily from the intense sex.

Excited I rushed over to give him a kiss. “I can’t believe it! I mean I knew something was off but I didn’t think all this!” Ross limp face dangled from his neck. I looked at the interior of the mask. Though the outside was just like human skin, the inside looked like rubber. “What is this, some kind of realistic costume?”

“Not exactly,” Howard picked up another thing from the table, it being a small empty vial. “I found this on the internet. Just sneak this into someone’s food or inject it with a needle and the target becomes a wearable bodysuit!”

“You mean-“ I look up and down his half-dressed visage, “this is actually Ross Lynch???”

“Yeah but don’t worry, it’s only temporary. When I take it off he’ll eventually regain his form and consciousness within an hour, without remembering anything during his time as a wearable skin.”

“That is so hot.” I kissed his cheek. “And I can’t believe you did all of this for me. You are the best boyfriend ever!”

From the door, two quick knocks follows a voice on the other side, “3 hours before the show Mr. Lynch!”

Quickly Howard pulled up Ross’s face and adjusted it to fit properly, the responded with the singer’s silky voice. “Got it, be right out!” He turned to me, playing with my messy hair. “I have to go, but you bet after the show we’re coming back here and ‘Ross’ will be down for whatever your heart desires.” I excitedly nodded then he headed out the door.

At the concert, I enjoyed the star treatment, getting to stand right in front of the stage. As I watched the duo perform, it was tantalizing to know the guy up there performing was actually my boyfriend! He passed glances over to me, quick reminders of what else was to come with my time with Ross. I put away all the bull of the past month and had the best night of my life. Maybe after the concert, Howard would even let me have a go at being Ross? And who knows, maybe we can order more of those bodysuit vials and have more fun in the future? The possibilities are endless.

#male body suit #bodysuit #takeover #celebrity #male transformation #original work

[sunwukongssuccessor]

You have a very good understanding of Sun Wukong and Macaque, I can tell by how amazing your writing is! Have your ever thought about doing a character analysis of those two? I’m asking because I have ideas for LMK fics and wanted to try and keep them as in character as possible and something like that would help me and a lot of other writers out there!

Anonymous asked: Sorry for not being specific! If my request is too intimidating please don’t push yourself to do it! As for specifics in the character analysis of the monkeys I guess maybe a dive into their surface level personality versus true personalities, their relationship with each other and MK, and their moral compasses? I hope that helps! You can take those as you will. If you don’t want to do all of that just do what you do want to do. Thank you!

It's no problem, I'm sorry that I took so long to answer and even then it still feels kind of vague.

I think the first way of getting to understand a character is getting a grasp of how they speak, both Wukong and Macaque speak pretty casually (one of the first things that Macaque says is "Your staff kind of gives you away, dude."), as well as clear and confident. I think it helps that I can memorize and hear voices in my head so that helps in me finding a way for them to stay in character and pick what sounds most accurate, but I know that doesn't apply to everyone.

Wukong, despite how he tries to play the role of retired goofball in the beginning, being somewhat indifferent about stuff like MK's training, but he actually cares to the point it's almost self-destructive. He doesn't want MK to worry about the Lady Bone Demon, so he lies about searching for a way to defeat her as a vacation of all things. He doesn't want people to get hurt from his mistakes and such so he wants to take the brunt of it but because he didn't try asking for help/support it kind of blows up in his face and makes it worse in the long run.

Macaque is opportunistic, something of a snark about it too. ("Also, side-note: How did you not know it was me? Shadows, kinda my gimmick isn't it?") He's not just dramatic, he's downright theatrical given the shadow play episode, he didn't have to keep doing more than one show after capturing MK's friends and even points out that MK went to multiple shows with saying "Ah, you again. You must be my biggest fan." but he still took it as a chance for the attention as well as be heard in his past as indirectly as he tried to play it off before the reveal. He craves the acknowledgement and probably more.

An interesting thing I noticed with Wukong in his interactions with MK is that he's the one usually initiating physical contact with him. (Sure, some of it is a bit of invading his space but that's just kind of how he is considering he's a monkey.)

Anyone else is kind of unwelcomed(?) in the space if he doesn't really like them or know them that well, he's even surprised by the affection from MK in the episode "Destiny Fulfilled" for a hot second until it settles.

With Macaque and his interactions with people from conversation to touch, something I noticed in the split second he meets MK, he sees him up close with admiration of all things as is shocked by it for before settle back. After agreeing to mentor MK, he's starts initiating physical contact as a way to seem all buddy-buddy with him, almost like they're on equal ground despite the newly formed mentorship.

After what's probably a few weeks into the training, the physical contact is less soft, almost holding MK down instead of being a support to pushing MK into a losing battle until literally punching the Monkey King's powers out of him. Physical touch was used on his terms and for his gain.

When he does a similar arm hold on Tang in "Benched" when trying to appeal to Tang in giving up and letting him get a Ring of Samadhi, he even projects his relationship with Wukong onto the whole group before acting out when it doesn't work.

Their moral compasses are pretty different, Wukong trying hard in helping MK as well as the world with it, Macaque being that he looks out for himself since that's all he has. Wukong has many enemies but that doesn't mean the world is and tries to act sweet with Ao Guang like he's a bud and totally didn't steal the pillar to his palace and made it a staff.

Macaque has to look out for himself, sees himself as the only one he can trust, all others be damned. ("Look out for number one, because if you don't, no one will.") Even if Macaque has a soft spot for someone (see MK) ("This is the thanks I get for checking in on my favorite student?" and "Hey kiddo, ya miss me?") he doesn't even see him as a potential ally, closer to amusement at best and enemy at worst. Macaque has far more enemies than allies (probably since he doesn't have any) and that reflects in how he practically hisses at the Mayor for giving him off vibes before even getting caught in the Lady Bone Demon's lackey's hold then taken hostage.

I'm sorry if this isn't the best analysis since it feels kind of all over the place but I hope it helps you in someway.

#LEGO Monkie Kid #Monkie Kid #Monkeying Around #Analysis #Asks

[sydsrichie]

'til queendom come, ch. 5

[masterlist] [Ao3] [playlist]

aemond targaryen x targaryen oc

wordcount: 12,063

summary: the prince and the lady had loved each other since childhood, and it was plain for all to see. But what had drawn them to each other in the first place - their valour and virtue - threatened to tear them apart as they found themselves on opposing sides of a cruel war.

warnings: canon-typical violence, canon-typical incest, abusive parent/child relationship, nsfw/18+ in later chapters, mentions of canon sexual violence & abuse, including against minors

a/n: gah I'm excited about posting this one! All the love I've been getting is amazing, guys. Hope you enjoy! Ch6 will be up next weekend <3

content warning: mentions of canon sexual violence & abuse, including against minors. it's no more than what is already in the show and there is no descriptions but please proceed with caution if that is something that could be triggering to you. Stay safe, friends <3

Even being kept away from King’s Landing by her father for long years could not keep Sena from thinking of Aemond day and night. Their letters only grew in frequency and volume, though Sena had well-warned the Prince that nothing came to her without meeting Maester Gerardys’ eye first. So the content remained their usual conversations of court, training, studies, but Sena still devoured each one hungrily and replied with as much haste as she dared.

…You had best train hard in these coming weeks, as my father has acquiesced to my joining the family at court to defend Lucerys against Ser Vaemond Velaryon’s overreaching for power. That we should have to dignify such calumnies with a response is unthinkable to me, but I shall gladly take the opportunity to visit with Helaena and the children, the King and Queen… and you, of course. I plan on finding out if Ser Criston has taught you anything worth knowing.

The teasing letter to Aemond had been met with an equally taunting reply.

…I pride myself on knowing many things worth knowing, my lady, but few of them are Cole’s wisdom. Regardless, you shall be on the receiving end of my knowledge upon your next visit, should that be your desire. My only request is that you be mindful of what you wish for.

It had raised a violent blush in Sena’s cheeks, and her only thought was that Maester Gerardys must be a fool if he truly did not suspect anything. But then, what did a Maester of the Citadel, hunchbacked from long years spent in libraries and rookeries know of matters of love?

Sena came to a sudden halt as she thought it, actually stopping dead in her pacing of her bedroom. Love… was that what this was? She loved Aemond as family and as a friend, she always had since they were six years old. But as more than that? I think I might love you, that was what she had told him, in Vhagar’s cavern. She desired him, of that there was no doubt. She had found herself growing hot and flushed at the thought of his kisses, on her lips and neck, the way he had pulled their hips flush together.

There was desire, and then there was love. The men of her family had always made quite clear what it was to desire a woman without loving her - they never made any secret of their habits on the Street of Silk, spoke of it quite openly in fact. And love without desire… Ser Laenor and Princess Rhaenyra had loved each other, of that there was no doubt, but they had never looked at each other with that hunger that she often saw in men’s eyes.

When they worked as one together, love and desire… when Aemond had opened her eyes to the true machinations of her family, Sena had seen it in the glances that the Princess and Ser Harwin Strong shared with each other. The looks that the Princess and her father shared now. The pink tinge in Jace’s cheeks when Baela caught him watching her from across the training yard.

Trying to set the matter from her head for now, Sena resolved to simply talk to the Prince about it when she got to King’s Landing. What use would turning it over and over in her head do, far away from King’s Landing and with no means of speaking privately? No, it was of no use, she thought, shaking her head vehemently and going back to her packing.

The journey of the Princess’s household to King’s Landing was made by ship, to accommodate the staff, the small children and the Princess’ swelling belly - her third child with Sena’s father. The pace of the sea journey only unsettled Sena further, who was itching to get back to the city. She only felt herself grow calmer once she was passing through the gates of the Red Keep. She was, however, a little taken aback at the absence of any reception for their arrival. So it was going to be that sort of visit, she thought grimly, watching as the Princess and her father set foot in King’s Landing for the first time in many years.

The Princess was affronted and Sena’s father looked downright malevolent, so their children were more than happy to escape at the earliest opportunity. Rhaena went in immediate search of Baela, who had been ward to Princess Rhaenys these last few years, and the boys slipped off to follow the servants with their baggage to their rooms and get settled in. Sena followed a few paces behind Jace and Luke, her brow further furrowing with each seven-pointed star she laid eyes on where once had been the heraldry of her house. Dragon banners, dragon skulls, mosaics of flame and battle, all gone, replaced with holy imagery. Sena had little time for the faith the Conquerors had dutifully adopted when they came to Westeros - she was half Valyrian and half the blood of the First Men, after all. And if there were truly Gods up there watching her, she had never heard them. She chewed her lip and kept walking.

In her room, the servants were already unpacking her things and her own maidservant, Sophey had made sure that her training gear was laid out first for her. A long few days spent sitting around on a boat and a morning confined to a carriage had put an itch into her, and it was about time she scratched it. She stepped behind the changing screen and unceremoniously pulled her dress off over her head, swapping silk for leather. She laced her boots in a hurry and got her sword belt on just in time to catch up with Jacaerys and Lucerys on their own way to the yard. “Look at us, going to train without even being commanded! My father would be proud of us,” she said, and Jace smirked as if to say how unlikely that was. Luke had been wearing a solemn expression for days now, and it made Sena’s heart ache to see. She threw an arm around the shoulders of the young boy who was now at her chin. When had he gotten so tall? “You should be careful, sweet boy. If you keep frowning like that the wind will change and your face will be stuck that way,” she said, mimicking the grumpy look on his face to make him smile.

He turned up the corner of his mouth and leaned into her. “Sorry, just… nervous, I guess.”

“Don’t say sorry, it’s understandable,” Jace said from his brother’s other side, giving him a reassuring smile.

“It is. But you won’t be alone tomorrow. Your mother will speak for you, and we will all be by your side. You just have to stand there and look pretty,” Sena said and squeezed the young boy’s shoulders.

“Gods, that will be an impossible task then!” Jace said. Luke balked and gave him a shove, but it did the job, because he was laughing now rather than frowning. They laughed all the way down to the yard.

As Jace and Luke made their way over to the weapons racks, Sena took a moment to stand still in the buzz of the yard and take it in. The full rainbow of different heraldry passed before her eyes as lords and lordlings, knights and squires went about their drills. White cloaks of the Kingsguard whipped in motion as the finest knights in the realm refined their skills. And here she was, stood in the middle of it, and nobody could make her leave. The daughter of the King’s brother, the step-daughter of the Princess of Dragonstone and Heir to the Throne, a woman grown. No-one could tell her to go now, even if they wanted to.

And they did want to, she thought, watching different sets of eyes flit away from her as she turned to meet their disapproving glares. She ignored them and gripped the ruby-studded hilt of her sword in her hand and looked around for a worthy - and willing - opponent.

That was when her eyes caught on the telltale shock of silver blonde hair.

The last couple of years had been good to Aemond, shaving away the last of the childish roundness in his features and leaving him tall and lean. Better than that, he stood strong, wearing the eyepatch over his left eye without a hint of self-consciousness. She hoped she might have played some small part in that, desiring him and loving him despite what he thought of as his flaws.

Prince Aemond twisted out of Ser Criston Cole’s reach with all the fluidity of water, then brought himself back down on his opponent with deadly speed. Sena’s heart surged in her chest, and she pushed her way through the growing crowd of spectators. It seemed all the men on the yard wanted to watch the Prince and the Queen’s sworn shield dance, she thought with a surge of satisfaction as Aemond held his own against one of the finest knights in the realm.

She gritted her teeth as Ser Criston’s favoured Morningstar splintered Aemond’s shield on his arm. He looked utterly nonplussed though, keeping a calm focus on his opponent as he discarded the ruined shield. Then, Sir Criston was launching a barrage of attacks, and Sena gripped her arms tightly against her chest as she watched Aemond feint left, right, back. His clever eye spotted his opening and he threw Ser Criston’s next strike wide with his own sword, spinning around the Kingsguard to end with his blade at Ser Criston’s neck.

Ser Criston grinned with pride as the spectators broke into applause. Sena watched Aemond’s back with her heart in her throat. She had not seen him fight in years, since they were children, and he had grown into an incredible swordsman. Like her own style in a lot of ways - fluid, dynamic, conserving stamina and exploiting mistakes where they were made. “Well done, my Prince. You’ll be winning tourneys in no time,” Ser Criston said, Aemond’s sword still at his neck.

“I don’t give a shit about tourneys,” the Prince replied. His voice sounded colder and harder than it had when she had last seen him. “Nephews?” Sena spotted Jace and Luke across the way from her, holding Aemond’s gaze with an iciness that set her on edge. “Have you come to train?”

Jace bristled and Luke swayed on the spot, discomfited. Sena gritted her teeth. Must he tease them so? “Or you could try picking on someone your own size,” the words were coming out before she’d even decided to speak them. Aemond, Ser Criston, Jace, Luke and all the other spectators turned to look at her. Her jaw tightened as a wave of titters spread through the crowd.

All of that melted away when Aemond smiled at her, though. He inclined his head to her. “My lady.”

“My prince,” she said, willing the sudden thrum of her heart to slow.

Her stepbrothers and the assembled knights and lords were distracted by the arrival of Ser Vaemond Velaryon’s procession into the lower yard, leaving Sena and Aemond free to take their fill of each other. He was only six feet away and it was still too far. “How have you been?” She asked him, in lieu of all of the things she actually wanted to say.

“Lonely,” he said, low enough so that it was only for her ears, “and you?”

“Forlorn,” she countered, and his lips twitched, “though I’ll feel better once I’ve beaten you.”

He had that maddening smirk on his face that she longed to kiss away. The people around them were starting to disperse now, going back to their sparring matches or following the Velaryons into the keep so they might ready themselves for supper. “Alright. If it’s a duel you desire, you shall have one,” Aemond said, turning and walking in an arc to clear some space around them, “though, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Sena barely had time to draw before Aemond was on her, and the clash of steel rung out across the yard. She shifted back and let him come at her again, knocking his blow aside and swinging around him in a replication of his earlier move. He knew his own tactics, though, and ducked out of her way with fluid haste.

It was less a fight and more a dance, Aemond taking every opportunity to drag her close and get in her space. At one point, she was too slow to duck away from him and he threw his sword arm around her, pulling her to his chest. Disguised in the tussle, he ducked his head and pressed a kiss to her neck, and Sena shivered even as she sharply elbowed him in the gut.

He doubled over, looking betrayed but amused, and met her sword again with his own as she went back on the attack.

Much later, when they were just about the last two left in the yard, exhausted and sweating, Aemond threw his sword down in the dirt. “I yield,” he said, raising his hands. “My mother hates me being late to dinner.”

Sena laughed. “You’re such a mummy’s boy.”

He made a face at her but did not deny it. “Guilty as charged.”

Sena sheathed her sword and kicked his own one back towards him. She cast a furtive glance around at the lingering knights on the yard and servants on the walkways. This bloody place, she feared they would get no time alone her entire visit. “You have become a fine swordsman, my prince,” she said.

He nodded. “And you, my lady. It seems your father did something right by you, at long last.”

She cast a sharp glance around, shocked at his being so brazen. “Aemond,” she hissed. When did he and his family become so bold? Removing the heraldry of House Targaryen, flouting her father where they could be heard. She knew the King was not well, but things had truly changed.

He gave her a look. “It’s alright. He doesn’t have any friends at my mother’s court.” His mother’s court.

“Still-“

“Sena,” he said, and hearing her name from his lips was like a salve on a burn, sweet relief and tingling sensation. He drew close enough to touch. “Stop worrying. You’re safe with me.”

She sighed, and knocked their arms together as she turned. “Walk me to my room?” There was no chance of her father letting her dine with the Queen tonight, so she knew she would not see Aemond again until the morrow, and she was reticent to leave him.

Their elbows knocked and the backs of their hands grazed together as Aemond took her the long way up through the stairs and hallways of the Red Keep. “Hard to believe this is all I get of you,” he said lowly, his lips barely moving, “snatched moments when your father deigns to let you out of his sight.”

She brushed two fingers over the back of his hand and he pressed into her touch. “And it shan’t even last long. I doubt they’ll want to hang around after they have reaffirmed Lucerys’s claim.”

“I wouldn’t be too confident, my love,” he said, coming into the quiet corridor that led to her room. “Things are different around here. The winds are changing. My father is- he is not well. Or so the maesters say. I haven’t seen him for myself in a moon’s turn.”

Something ached inside of her at the thought of her ailing uncle suffering through the days. “A moon?”

His lips were pursed. “Don’t look surprised. He had more interest in you than he had in me growing up, so I don’t plan on running to his bedside and playing the grieving son now.”

Sena frowned. She hadn’t meant it like that, not truly. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

He bit his lip and leaned back against the wall opposite her door. She made no move to leave him just yet, but she kept a careful distance. She had learned they needed to be careful who they were seen by, but he also seemed different since the last time she’d seen him. Less boyish and moody, more measured and tightly wound. Like he was lying in wait.

He seemed to be arguing with himself about something, an argument that he eventually lost, as he opened his mouth to speak. “Is it true about your sisters?” He asked. She frowned at the set of his brow. “The Clubfoot has passed us whispers of them being betrothed to my nephews so that Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys will align themselves with my half-sister.”

Sena set her jaw in irritation. “You don’t align yourself with the crowned heir, Aemond, it’s called loyalty-“

He glared at her. “I am loyal to my family,” he said, pushing off of the wall to draw closer to her, like a stalking wildcat. “My true family. Meaning my mother, my sister, my brothers…” he cast a look down either side of the hall to check they were alone, then pressed his hand into her own, “and you.”

Her breath hitched in her throat. “Aemond-“

He shook his head to stop her. “Don’t you see, Sena? This could be our chance, you and I,” his voice dropped to a whisper, drawing closer to her still. He held her gaze and he had mastered that serious look of his when they were six years old. “Your sisters are marrying. My father still lives. We are both of age. This could be our chance, Sena, our last chance, before they force other arrangements on us when everything goes to shit.”

She took a sharp breath, unsure if she was understanding him correctly. “Do you mean-“

There was unshakeable certainty in his eye. “Marry me.”

Sena’s vision swam a little unevenly, looking down at their joined hands. Like two interlocking puzzle pieces, made for each other. “I wish it were that simple,” she said, her voice sounding shaky. “My father-“

“It is that simple,” he interrupted, his jaw set. “I do not wish for a penny of a dowry from my uncle so he can have no objections. Do not ask him, Sena, tell him.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “Have you lost your mind? Do you know my father?” 

But he was not listening to her though, lost in a fantasy of his own creation. “Marry me,” he said, bringing up a hand to cup her cheek. His hands were warm and rough and Sena could not help but lean into his touch. “Marry me and I will give you all that is mine to give you, Sena. You will be a Princess, you will live in luxury, your rooms will be down the hall from Helaena. All for the small price of having to wake up next to me each and every morning for the rest of your life.”

She laughed and pressed their hands to the space over her heart. She could imagine nothing sweeter. “What an arduous task that would be.”

“I know. Cruel, isn’t it?” He japed, tucking her hair behind her ear.

It was the only thing in the world she had ever truly desired, and yet a single doubt swirled in her mind. Her mouth went dry, but she forced it out. “Do you love me, Aemond?”

He went still and the smile evaporated from his features. “You have to ask?” He was stunned. He clenched his jaw and anger clouded his handsome features, turning his head to look down the hall to where her father and Princess Rhaenyra were quartered. He was like a tempest, she thought, unpredictable and ferocious. “That brute will pay for every time he’s ever made you feel unloveable, Sena-“

“Forget about him. It’s not about him. This is about us,” she gritted out, pulling his gaze back to hers with a hand under his chin. She was so sick of everything in her life being about Prince Daemon. She just wanted Aemond to say it, so she could hear it and know it was true. “Do you love me?”

He looked at her, truly looked at her and the anger dissipated from his features. Their gazes held each other and he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. She could feel his breath on her lips, smell the rosemary oil in his hair. “I have loved you half a lifetime, Sena.”

“Aemond-”

“No, I mean it,” he said with a soft smile. “Ever since that day in the Dragonpit, I have been blissfully happy every day I have had you, savagely lonely every day I have not. And every second of every hour, I have loved you.”

She couldn’t take it any longer, the swell of her chest and the burning in her soul. She surged forwards, taking his face in both her hands and kissing him desperately, not giving a damn who could interrupt at any moment. He was surprised at first, then pushed back against her, and she felt her back hit the wall, felt his hands cushion the back of her head and tangle in her hair as he kissed her back mercilessly, a dam breaking inside of him. Tears sprang free from the corners of her eyes and a whimper ripped from her throat as she clawed at him, needing him closer, needing him never to leave her side again, not even for a moment. Everything in her world started and ended with him.

He pushed in closer and they were joined from thigh to rib to shoulder. His hips did a queer roll against hers. Friction sparked in some secret place and she gasped, stars bursting behind her eyes. She fisted her hands into his hair, then moved them down to his back, pressing him closer as he mouthed lasciviously at her neck. His lower back curved inwards, his hips moved again and her hands flew to the swell of his backside, urging him to keep doing whatever he was doing.

All of a sudden, she was left cold as he broke away from her with a strangled sound, panting into the space between them. She was overcome with a desire to make him want her, to use every inch of herself to take him apart. She grabbed his hands and pulled them to her waist, her hips. His eye was dark with hunger. “Come inside,” she said in a bare whisper, “forget about the rest of them, we can make something up, just come inside. Come inside.”

He gritted his teeth together. “No,” he whispered, “no.” He was struggling, she could tell, his hands trembling as he drew them back from her body.

“Aemond.”

“No. I won’t ruin you.”

She would not hear it. It was madness. She was twenty years of age and she could not choose when she would know another’s touch. She was not one of Helaena’s fragile insects to be pinned behind glass, preserved and possessed. “Ruin?” She asked softly. “How could something so beautiful ever be ruin?”

He sighed and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We would be beautiful, wouldn’t we? You and I, together as one?” 

She shivered against him at the thought. How was he so controlled? “Show me,” she whispered. “Show me,” she begged.

He pulled back and shook his head. “I would never do anything to endanger you, Sena,” he said and squeezed her hands in his once more before letting go. “Talk to your father.”

His absence against her was like a winter wind. “Aemond,” she pleaded.

“Talk to your father.”

Then he was gone, stalking up the hall before he could lose his composure and change his mind.

She let out a breath and leaned back against her door like a marionette with cut strings.

It took Sena an inordinate amount of time to ready herself for supper as she found herself becoming distracted, brushing her fingers over her lips, her neck, her hips, her waist, everywhere he had touched. The tangles in her hair that he had put there, raking his long fingers through her curls. She sighed and stared wistfully in the looking glass, seeing how they had looked together in the reflection the morning of Helaena’s wedding.

It was only when her maidservant knocked and entered that she dragged herself out of her thoughts. “The Queen and the Princess will be in the Princess’s rooms after supper, m’lady. They will be expecting you,” she said as she helped Sena pin back her hair.

“Thank you, Sophey,” Sena said with a distant smile.

Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon looked particularly perturbed at supper, Sena thought, but she did not have the time nor the inclination to find out why. She ate her supper, clicked her nails off of her glass with impatience and excused herself as quickly as she could without being rude - or terribly rude, anyway. Speaking to her father would have to wait until after the proceedings tomorrow, not that she was overly upset at the idea of putting off that task for as long as possible.

No sooner was she admitted to the Princess’s sitting room than she was being gathered into Helaena’s arms in a crushing hug. “Princess,” she murmured, combing her fingers through blonde tresses.

“Oh Sena, it’s so good to see you,” Helaena said, pulling back and planting a kiss on both of Sena’s cheeks. Sena blushed and brought her in for one more hug.

“Lady Visenya,” the Queen greeted, and Sena stepped away from her daughter.

She curtseyed before the Queen. “Queen Alicent,” she said. The Queen’s sober expression melted into a smile and she was being pulled into another hug. 

“It’s good to see you.”

“Mama!” Came a small squawk, and Sena turned around to see a blonde-haired girl tugging at Helaena’s skirts with a wooden knight in hand. The girl’s twin was behind her, sitting on the rug before the fire and staring at the stranger in his midst.

“Oh,” Sena breathed at the sight of the two perfect little souls.

Helaena beamed and crouched down next to the girl. “Jaehaera, I have told you about Aunt Sena, haven’t I? Mummy’s friend?”

The little girl turned wide lilac eyes upwards at Sena and leaned into her mother, trying to hide in the folds of her dress. She nodded shyly.

“Aunt Sena?” Sena asked Helaena, surprised by the emotion thick in her voice.

Helaena smiled. “It felt right.”

Sena nodded, not trusting herself to speak without her voice wobbling. The Queen laid a hand on her shoulder. She drew a breath to steady herself. “And the babe?”

“Maelor is with his wet nurse in the nursery,” the Queen said. “He still sleeps most of the day, but he’s a delightful little boy when he wakes, all smiles. The Princess has done so well.”

“I see that,” Sena said with a watery smile as Helaena ducked her head, blushing at the praise.

Sena knew it was improper to sit down on the carpet next to the twins in the fine dress she had worn to dinner, especially in the presence of the Queen. But Helaena’s children were too sweet to resist, she was sure their grandmother could understand that. They were precocious too, examining this new intruder to their little world with curiosity. Jaehaera toddled over to her and tugged at her hair with a small, pudgy fist, causing the ladies to chuckle at her. The boy brought her a small toy horse, complete with a mane and tail. “Hello, my Prince, what is your name?” Sena asked. Jaehaera seemed to trust her quick enough, clambering into her lap, but Jaehaerys remained a little unsure, standing back from her.

Lilac eyes dipped low out of shyness and he mumbled, “Jery…”

“They have not quite mastered their names yet,” Helaena said with a doting smile from her seat on the settee. Her body was still recovering from the birth of her younger son, but Sena’s heart surged to see her practically glowing. Motherhood suited her kind and gentle friend well.

“You have made a good start, though, Jaehaerys,” Sena told the little boy, holding the pony toy in one hand and Jaehaera in the other. “I have never mastered mine yet, everyone still calls me Sena. They give us frightfully difficult names to say, don’t they?” She said, sending a playful smirk at the Queen.

Queen Alicent raised an eyebrow. “Do not point such an accusation at me, my lady. If it had been up to me, my boys would have been Addams and Gwaynes,” she said with good humour.

Sena laughed. “Helaena remains a pretty name, though, for a pretty girl.” Her best friend went a little pink in the cheeks at that. Sena looked down at the sweet little horse in her hand. “Is this your favourite toy?” She asked the little boy.

His white-blonde hair was smooth, sleek and fell about his shoulders. He brushed it out of his eyes with the back of his hand and nodded.

“It was a name day gift, wasn’t it, Jaehaerys? Tell Aunt Sena who it was from,” Helaena said, and sent a secretive smile at her friend.

Jaehaerys chewed his lip. “Uncle ‘Emon.”

Sena broke into a grin and turned the little horse over in her hands, looking at the matching knight that Jaehaera had left on the carpet. It was a sweet thing, lovingly painted and carved. She was sure he’d maybe gone out into the city and bought it from a merchant, but she also wouldn’t put it past the Prince to be hiding some great carpentry skill from her. He was a man of mystery after all. “Is Uncle Aemond good to you?”

Jaehaerys nodded and Jaehaera chimed in from Sena’s lap. “He says when I’m big, I can go on Vhagar with him!” She said excitedly.

The Queen stiffened in her chair, looking alarmed, but Helaena was smiling widely and Sena’s heart was melting at the thought of Aemond bringing toys and planning adventures with his niece and nephew. “Well, Prince Jaehaerys will just have to come with me on Grey Ghost, then, and we can have a race,” she said, giving the little boy a smile. That seemed to finally win him over and he nodded vigorously, plopping himself down on the carpet before Sena and his sister.

The twins played with their sweet little toys and Sena joined in with a small dragon, painted blue and sent all the way from Oldtown by their Uncle Daeron. “Are we like to see Prince Daeron back at court soon, my Queen?” Sena asked. “I haven’t seen that sweet boy’s smile in far too long.”

The Queen looked wistful. “I hope so, Sena. Believe me, no one misses him more than I. But he is no longer a boy, or so he tells me! It seems he has grown much and learned more as ward to my cousin, Lord Ormund.”

“He must come back soon,” Helaena said, and looked at Sena. “And you must stay. I so wish we could all be together again, like the old days. Imagine, Sena, we could raise our babes together and they could grow up as close as we did!”

It was a beautiful dream, and it made Sena’s heart ache just to think about it. Their children being as mischievous and unruly as they had been, driving Helaena and herself mad. Taking suppers with Helaena and walking with her in the godswood. Kissing Aemond awake in the morning. She would fix his eyepatch and he would lace her dresses, just so they could have as much alone time together as they could before they began their respective days. 

Gods, what a sweet dream it was.

Sena caught the Queen staring at her curiously, like she was trying to divine her thoughts. She felt her cheeks go pink as she wondered how long she had been sitting there silent, thinking of the life she could lead if she was Aemond’s wife. Jaehaera saved her though, by letting off a gigantic yawn. “Gosh, how does such a big sound come out of someone so little?” Sena said, and the little girl giggled and squirmed as Sena tickled her sides.

Helaena sighed happily. “Come, then, bedtime. Say goodnight to Aunt Sena.”

“Night!” Jaehaera said, pushing herself up and wobbling a little as she clambered out of Sena’s lap. 

Sena laughed and ducked her head to press a kiss to the girl’s hair. “Good night, Princess.”

Jaehaerys pushed himself up from the rug as well, and leaned over a little uncertainly to wrap his little arms around Sena’s neck. “Night,” he said quietly.

Sena rubbed his back. “Good night, my Prince,” she said. “And don’t forget, we’ll have our race with Uncle Aemond and Vhagar before long.”

The boy gave her a shy smile and gave his hand to his mother. “I’ll be back once the wet nurse and I have gotten them down to sleep, Sena. Shouldn’t be too long,” Helaena said and went to lead the twins down the hall to the nursery.

Sena pushed herself up off the rug and came to sit opposite the Queen, before the fire. She looked at Queen Alicent, bathed in the warm glow of the fire, and thought distantly that she was so beautiful. A graceful woman who had raised four children and now got to watch her grandchildren grow, she was regal, composed, demure. “They are wonderful. You must be so proud, my Queen.”

Alicent regarded her happily. “Endlessly,” she said simply.

Sena drew a bracing breath. She was regretful to spoil the Queen’s good mood, but the question had been preying on her mind since she arrived. “And Prince Aegon? Is he a… proud father?”

The smile on the Queen’s face regretfully evaporated at that, just as Sena had feared it would. “Aegon is… Aegon,” she said with a sigh. “You know how he is. Neither I nor Helaena nor his brother could tell you where he is right now, and that’s how he likes it. Perhaps the less that is said about him, the better.”

Sena frowned, her grip on her skirts tightening. “Is he at least good to Helaena?” She asked. “I try to glean what I can from her letters but she is hesitant to speak ill of him. Or speak of him at all, really.”

Alicent gave her a forced smile. “Truly, it is because she has little to report of him,” she said. “He leaves her and the children alone for the most part. He terrorises the serving girls but… Gods forgive me, I rather prefer that to him terrorising Helaena.”

Sena frowned. Prince Aegon had always been odious in their childhood but easy enough to ignore. Had he truly worsened so much? “He is not truly that bad, is he? There’s the drinking and the bad behaviour, yes. But underneath all that, he is still a good soul-“

“Did Aemond tell you?” The Queen interrupted suddenly. “I know he tells you almost everything, but I don’t know if he would wish to…” Her expression was grave.

Sena swallowed hard around a lump that had risen in her throat. “Did Aemond tell me what, my Queen?”

“How he… lost his innocence?” The Queen asked, a little red in the face.

“Oh,” Sena said dumbly, her own face flushing with colour. She’d always assumed Aemond would have sated his curiosity with serving girls or ladies on the Street of Silk by now. For a noble girl, her maidenhead was something to be guarded with her life. Despoilment could mean disowning, being married off to the first penniless hedge knight who would have her, or worse. But noble boys seemed to shrug off their virginity as young as they could with whoever they could. She’d never really wanted to think about how Aemond might have lost his, though. And she was not sure if she wanted to know how Aegon could be involved. “No, your Grace. He did not.”

“He was thirteen,” the Queen whispered between gritted teeth. “His scar had not even healed yet, he missed you desperately and he could not stand to look at himself in a looking glass, but Aegon brought him to the Street of Silk and bought him a whore.”

Sena’s insides churned. She gripped her skirts hard, her knuckles going white. She did not know what to say.

“The boys think I don’t know,” Alicent swiped a tear from her cheek with her thumb and shook her head to dispel the cloud of anger and grief about her. “Aegon… I don’t know how I made him so wrong.”

“It’s not your fault,” Sena said, partly because she believed it but also partly because she did not know what else to say. “Helaena and Aemond and Daeron are wonderful children that any mother would be proud to have raised.” She reached across the space between them and gently brushed the tears from the Queen’s cheeks with the backs of her fingers. Alicent caught Sena’s hands in her own and held them in her lap.

“Yes,” she said wetly. “They are, aren’t they? Let us speak of them. Let us not be sad when the Princess comes back.”

Sena felt it was not right to shrug off what the Queen was telling her, that it was clear that Alicent needed to speak about this. But she nodded. “If that is your wish, my Queen.”

She squeezed Sena’s hands. “It is,” she said, and let out a shaky sigh. “Tell me something good.”

Sena floundered for a second, opening and closing her mouth. “Erm… Prince Aemond and I duelled on the training yard today.”

The Queen nodded and smiled. “Yes. He told me at supper.”

Sena blushed. Of course he did. She wished he was here, he would know what to say, and she could speak to him about what she had just learned. But with his father so ill and his brother so… Aegon-like, she knew Aemond was currently shouldering what responsibilities of running the realm he could to take some of the weight off of his mother and grandfather. “Did he tell you I won?” By forfeit, perhaps, but she would take it.

That got the Queen to laugh, and Sena laughed with her, glad to banish a little of Alicent’s sadness. The Queen sniffed and shook her head free of the last of the darkness in her mind. Then, she turned her gaze back to Sena and gave her a serious look she was so used to seeing in her son. “Can I ask you a question, my dear?”

Sena nodded.

“Know you do not have to answer if you do not wish to,” Queen Alicent said.

The fire was crackling low in the grate, the warmth enveloping the Queen and her niece. Her words caused Sena to prickle with nerves, but she said, “If it is within my power to answer it, I will.”

The Queen nodded, then drew a breath. “Do you… love my son, Sena? Do you love Aemond?”

The question caught her unawares, and her heart seized in her chest. She looked down at her hands in the Queen’s lap. Thought of Aemond’s sharp mind, handsome face. His prowess with a sword, his glee on dragonback, his boyish laugh. His smile. How he fit their hands together like they were made for each other.

Maybe they were made for each other.

“Yes,” Sena breathed. “I do.”

The Queen nodded, like she already knew the answer, and sniffed. “Good,” she said simply.

Alicent turned back to the fire and watched the embers die.

-----

The next day was… unfortunately typical for Sena’s family. Luke had been restless at the table while they broke fast, merely pushing food around his plate. Jace looked uneasy too, and even Princess Rhaenyra appeared to be hiding her discomfort by fussing over Luke. That had left Sena and Rhaena to force down what they could, avoiding the eye of their father. Every time Sena caught Prince Daemon looking at her, it was like a fresh shock of ice water down her spine.

When it came time to convene in the throne room, Sena stood dutifully by Rhaena, behind Princess Rhaenyra and her boys and tried not to send too many glances at the other half of the royal family. Ser Otto presided over the proceedings from the foot of the throne and Sena oft caught the Queen and the Princess staring at one another. Aegon was swaying a little on his feet and looked as though he hadn’t been to bed in days, and his wife kept a distance from him, sticking to the Queen’s side and sending Sena smiles when she could. Aemond stood tall between Aegon and Helaena, dutifully not paying Sena much mind at all with her father close by. 

Prince Daemon was standing still. He was unnerving when he was barely containing his emotions, pacing like a caged lion. But it was when he reached stillness that he was truly scary.

The proceedings were more or less exactly as shameful as she’d expected, Ser Vaemond being given a place in open court to spew his thinly veiled accusations and shame the young boy before her. Sena tightened her jaw with the effort of restraining herself. It was only when the heavy doors of the throne room swung inward that Sena was caught off guard.

It was the King. He made the heroic struggle up the length of the throne room and Sena watched with her heart in her throat. Even the Queen and her children seemed a little shocked at his haggard appearance. Her poor uncle. Suddenly, the way the Queen and her family had been acting made sense. They were bracing themselves for impact. Her poor uncle did not have long left. 

He made his way up the steps of the throne with the aid of his brother, and Sena was always shocked to see the warmth her father was capable of when he desired it so, placing the King’s crown upon his brow with all the deference and love of a little brother. 

And that was when things started to truly unravel.

The King passed down his firm judgement in favour of his grandson, just as Sena had wished he would, but it was not enough to stop the mummer’s show that was unfolding before her. Vaemond was screaming vile taunts - bastards this and whore that - and even though Sena watched her father move forward on silent feet and draw Dark Sister, she did not understand what was happening until Ser Vaemond’s head fell from his shoulders.

There was screaming and an audible thud as the head hit the floor. Sena’s hand flew out and gripped Rhaena by the arm. “He can keep his tongue,” Daemon said with acid wit as the offending appendage lolled from where it was still anchored to Ser Vaemond’s mandible.

Sena stared at her father with wide eyes. This was the man she was supposed to broker her marriage with?

She tried to catch Aemond’s eye, but he was too busy watching her father with something indiscernible on his face.

Later, Sena paced the cool stone floor of her guest room on stockinged feet. Her gown, a deep blue, swished around her ankles as her stomach tied itself in knots and she tried to figure out what to say. She wished she could say she hadn’t spoken to her father yet because she was waiting for him to calm down after all that had happened. However, the truth was that Sena was scared, and that had been her father calm. Prince Daemon was at his calmest when he had a plan of action and murderous intent. She had no idea how he might react to what she had to tell him.

“This is pathetic,” she hissed to herself, and slipped her feet into her satin shoes. “You’re a woman grown, practically an old maid.” She eyed her sword from where it leaned against the wall by the door and wondered for a second, but no, it would not do to bring a weapon to the negotiating table. Even if it would give her courage.

Every step down the hall towards Prince Daemon and Princess Rhaenyra’s shared rooms was like a step closer to the gates of hell, and Sena’s stomach was roiling. She knew the Princess would be readying herself for their family dinner by now, so she would be able to get her father to speak with her privately in the solar. She tugged her sleeves down over her hands. How she wished she had her sword.

Her knock echoed on the door, and her father’s manservant let her in. “Lady Visenya,” he announced her to the room. The Princess smiled at her from her dressing table, where she and a maidservant were fixing her hair, and her father looked up from where he was reading letters at his desk.

“Sena,” he greeted her mildly.

Sena curtseyed first to the Princess, then to the Prince. “Father,” she greeted him back.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“I-“ the words caught in her throat like cobwebs as soon as she tried to speak them. “I was hoping we could talk, father. In private.”

Prince Daemon arched a brow at her, but got up from his seat anyway. “We’ve got some time before supper. Come.”

Maybe it was a mistake to not do this in front of the Princess? Rhaenyra calmed her father’s worst moods and had always been a calming influence in their turbulent relationship. But that pricked Sena’s pride too. Rhaenyra was not her mother and should not have any say in who she wed. Truthfully, neither should the man who had only deigned to clothe and feed her about half of the time while she grew up, but there was nothing to be done about that. She was still a woman and not a crowned one. She couldn’t very well make her own decisions regarding her marriage anymore than she could sprout wings and fly away, as tempting as either idea might be right now.

The door of the solar banged shut behind them, and her father lounged lazily against the desk. Sena planted her feet firmly on the carpet before him, the heat of the fire crackling in the hearth causing a sweat to break out over her skin.

Daemon shrugged his shoulders. “Come on then, out with it.”

“I- I’ve been thinking,” Sena said, drawing a steadying breath and clasping her hands before her to keep from fidgeting. “I am the eldest of your daughters and still unmarried. With Baela and Rhaena being betrothed to our stepbrothers, I thought it might be time… to broach the subject of my own marriage.”

Daemon seemed surprised. She could tell he had been beginning to think she might be something of a lost cause on that front, as he never brought it up with her or pestered her with insulting suggestions anymore. “Truly? What a happy day, daughter,” he said, without much emotion in his voice. Then, “Who is the lucky lad to have caught your eye? Who will you be making my goodson?” And oh, he knew, of that there was no mystery.

Cold dread washed over Sena. But she would not turn back now. “Father…” she said, “it is time, high time I was wed to Prince Aemond.”

Her father laughed, actually laughed, as though it were some amusing jape. “And why would I allow that?”

Sena set her jaw. She had been expecting this, though, and she was ready. “Because I will not wed another,” she said, clasping her hands tightly behind her back, standing strong, projecting her voice like she had seen Princess Rhaenyra, Princess Rhaenys, the Queen do countless times. “You gave me my sword, father, and I shall use it on any man who would have me without my permission, be it a great lord or a stablehand. The only man I will wed, the only man I will have is Aemond.” 

Daemon smirked at her, his head tilted to the side. “You know, I have always been begrudgingly fond of you, my girl, despite your being a constant thorn in my side. You have the fire and courage in your veins of our house, and you’re a stubborn bitch, like your mother. That was always her most redeeming feature to me,” he said, and it caught Sena off guard. It was strange enough to hear him confess to being fond of her, let alone even mentioning her mother. And stranger still to hear him do it with something approaching a compliment. 

She opened her mouth, and stuttered for a second, in disbelief. “Does this- is that a yes?”

Daemon’s grin was more like a leer as he closed the space between them. “Oh my sweet girl, no. I would rather feed you to Caraxes than hand you and your dragon over to the Queen like a name day gift,” he said, cupping her cheek with a large, calloused hand.

The brief glimpse of hope she had felt was smothered and she repressed a shudder at his touch. “You misunderstand me,” she bit out, standing her ground. “I am not asking your permission. I will wed Prince Aemond."

Her stomach lurched as she saw that only made him angry, however. Daemon sneered at her and tightened his grip, grabbing her jaw between his thumb and fingers, forcing her to meet his eyes. “And you misunderstand me,” he said in a dark tone. She was trembling under his grip. “So long as I live and draw breath, that boy will not touch you.” 

Rage flared in Sena and she knocked his hand sharply away from her face in a move that seemed to shock the both of them. Outside the training yard, they never struck each other, but she was livid. Impossible visions of her and Aemond waking up abed together, husband and wife drifted further out of her grasp. “And what if he already has?” She snapped. She did not know what possessed her. Anger lit up every part of her, it had her not in her right mind. She knew that was a dangerous thing to insinuate, for her and for Aemond, but she could not bring herself to care, so hot was the fire burning inside of her.

Her father seemed to find it amusing, however, his lips drawing into a smirk that made her blood boil. “Prove it,” he said. He laid a hand on her belly, over her skirts. “Get yourself with child. Give me an excuse to wield Dark Sister and take off my nephew’s pretty little head.” He lowered himself, looming over her. “Even your beloved uncle could not save him once he had despoiled my daughter.” 

Sena heard the thud of Ser Vaemond’s disembodied head hitting the flagstones of the throne room again. She saw his dark lifeblood spilling out into a puddle behind her eyelids. “I’d like to see you try,” she bit out, her teeth gritted together, but even she could tell it came out weak.

Daemon laughed his high-pitched, malignant laugh. “You think your beloved Prince, a green boy of twenty who has never seen battle, would stand a chance against me?” Her innards twisted at the thought of it, Aemond meeting Daemon’s steel with his own. “Come now, Sena. I had hoped what everyone says about you wasn’t true. I had hoped there was more to you than that… but it seems you are just some pretty little fool, are you not?” He smoothed down her dark curls and she didn’t realise she was crying with rage until he wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. He bent down and kissed her on the cheek. She wanted to tear her own skin off. “Come, my girl. Before supper is cold.”

He left her like that, standing in the middle of the floor and glaring at the spot where he had stood, salt water tracking down her cheeks. She wanted to scream. She wanted to lose control, break his belongings, go after him and cause a scene. But what would it do? What could it possibly accomplish, beyond making him even more resolved to deny her whatever happiness he could? It hadn’t been a shock to her, of course. But she had thought- she had thought once he saw how resolved on this she was, how she would not be budged, he would relent. But she had been the one to budge, not him, and it made her burn with shame. How could she face Aemond now?

She trailed behind the Princess and her father on the way to supper. Rhaenyra kept throwing worried glances over her shoulder at Sena, trying to ascertain why her husband was in such a sour mood, but Sena did not want a scene in the halls of the Red Keep, where all her family could see and hear. It had been degrading enough for her father to treat her like property in private, like livestock in his ownership until he could sell her off for a sufficient price. She would not let him do it before their entire family.

She heard steps to her right as she walked and turned to see Aemond alongside her, his hair smoothly combed and his fine clothing flattering his lean figure. Her stomach dropped. She was still wiping at her eyes, she was not ready for this. He could see in an instant that it was not good news, though.

“What did he say?” He murmured under his breath, his expression impassable.

“That he’d rather feed me to Caraxes than make me your wife,” Sena replied dully, willing herself not to cry.

Aemond gritted his teeth and the line of his shoulders hardened. “We don’t need his permission. My father will give his-”

“Your father is dying,” Sena reminded him. 

He threw up his hands. “A drunken septon, then.” Whatever it took, he was saying. It should have made her heart surge, to see him so impassioned about wedding her, but she knew it wasn’t enough.

“And when my father comes for your head?” She asked.

“Then I’ll kill him.”

Sena scoffed. “Of course,” she said coldly. “That’s the answer to everything in this Gods-damned family. We’d all rather draw our swords and fight to the death than have a fucking honest conversation.”

Aemond cast her a concerned glance, unused to seeing her so low. But they were reaching the King’s private dining room now, and Prince Daemon was standing at the door, watching them. Aemond left her side and went to push past her father, but Daemon caught him by the shoulder. “Careful, boy,” he said in an acrid tone. Aemond pulled free of his grasp and went inside. Sena gave her father a cold look and followed.

Dinner was about as disastrous as she would have expected, but for once it was not her father’s fault, or Princess Rhaenyra’s, or the Queen’s, or even Aegon’s. The King’s presence had them all speaking to each other with civility for the longest stretch of time in Sena’s memory, even if it was by baring his withered face and pleading with them to lay down their animosity for one night. But King Viserys’s middle son remained unmoved, watching the proceedings with a stillness that verged on eerie, his only movement the occasional tick of his jaw. Sena could not stop watching him from across the table, and knew her father was looking between the two of them with a sick sense of self-satisfaction. Rage coiled inside of her.

It was only when the King was removed to return to his bed that the mood truly started to sour. Sena ate what she could, but her stomach was churning with acid, everything tasted like ash and the servants were still bringing in more food, setting a whole roast pig down before Aemond.

To Sena’s right, Luke could not repress a snigger, eyeing his uncle across the table.

And she could see the young boy she had first fallen in love with, all those years ago in the Pit, red eyed and lonely, tormented by his brother and nephews. She watched the man he had grown into make his choice as the last threads of his restraint snapped.

Aemond’s fist crashed to the table, causing his empty plate to jump with a clatter. He raised himself to his feet, his chair giving a high-pitched shriek as it was forced back over the floor. Sena’s grip tightened around her dinner knife as Aemond raised his glass. “Final tribute,” his voice was commanding and powerful when he rose it above his usual rasp. “To the health of my nephews: Jace, Luke and Joffrey."

Aegon, always quick to delight in someone other than himself being the troublemaker, joined his little brother in the toast. Jace and Helaena had stopped dancing, Ser Otto stared down into his lap with a sense of foreboding and the Queen was giving her son a pleading look. “Aemond,” Sena mouthed, but he was not looking at her, his eye locked on her little brother.

“Each of them handsome, wise…” Sena grip on her dinner knife had turned her knuckles white. To her right, Luke was still as a statue. “Strong.”

“Aemond,” the Queen began.

“Come! Let us drain our cups to these three strong boys.”

Sena’s heart lurched as the Queen’s face turned ashen and Aegon drank heartily. Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon had gone still. The smile vanished from Helaena’s face as Jace spoke up. “I dare you to say that again,” he spat.

Aemond had the gall to look affronted as he approached his nephew, wine in hand. “Why? It was only a complement. Do you not think yourself strong?”

All the seven hells seemed to break loose in that moment. Jace cracked Aemond across the jaw with his fist, and Sena lurched to her feet but Aemond barely flinched. “Jace!” Princess Rhaenyra snapped. Before Luke could make it halfway across the room to Aemond, Aegon was up and slamming him down into the dinner table.

“That is enough!” The Queen demanded, but the boys were as untameable as their dragons. Aemond turned his smirk back on his nephew and shoved him to the ground without spilling a drop of wine.

Sena did the only thing she could think of and rushed forward, pulling Aegon off of Luke. “Have you no shame? He’s just a boy,” she snapped.

Aegon turned on her and shook his head in disbelief. “My dear goodsister, when are you going to pick a side?” He hissed.

Sena blanched to hear herself addressed as Aegon’s sister-by-marriage before their entire family. She knew there were few secrets between the brothers, but by the Gods, Aegon had some nerve.

The guards were rushing forward to restrain Jace and Luke now, and Rhaena was even holding back Baela from taking a swing at the Prince. The Queen had flown to Aemond’s side, belligerent. “Why would you say such a thing before these people?’

“I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, mother,” Aemond said, addressing the Queen with impudence. He dragged his arm out of her grasp. “Mm, though it seems my nephews aren’t quite as proud of theirs.”

“Aemond-“ Sena snapped as Jace rounded on the Prince again.

She never thought she’d be glad to see her father wade in.

“Go to your quarters. All of you go, now,” Rhaenyra addressed her sons and step-daughters sharply, but even as the younger ones begrudgingly listened, Sena stayed put. She was not to be ordered around anymore and she would not have it from Rhaenyra in the same day as her father. She stayed where she was, glaring at Aemond.

Her father looked like he was sizing up his next meal.

The two Princes regarded each other, and Aemond held his ground. 

Sena looked between the two of them and felt a terrible dread.

Aemond was first to break the silence, humming to himself with a note of satisfaction and stalking from the room.

Sena shoved past her father even as he tried to stop her. She followed Aemond down the hall, hurrying to keep up with his long strides. “Aemond,” she hissed, and when he did not slow or look back, she snapped “Aemond!”

He swung around on her on the landing of one of the Red Keep’s staircases, their steps and voices echoing around them, and he was livid.

“What the fuck was that?” She snapped at him, drawing close.

“Me?” He asked, bewildered, towering over her. “What do you think you’re doing, Sena? They mock me, they mock our house with the stain of their bastardy, they take my eye, and yet you still defend them?”

She knew they must still be well within the earshot of the rest of the family, but it did not stop him. He remained fixed on her, all of his pent-up rage bubbling to the surface, and he glared at her unblinking. “Don’t make this about our childhood, you started that-“ she said.

“Because I won’t be laughed at at my own dinner table. Did you see the way your beloved brother mocked me?” He said. “Why are you so quick to jump to his aid and not mine?”

She shook her head in disbelief. “You don’t need my aid,” she said, taking his hand in hers in an attempt to placate him. “You’re a man grown, you can handle yourself, he’s just a boy and you humiliated him.”

“Oh, I humiliated him? How shocking of me,” he said icily. “I should go and apologise, he made such a good apology to me when he took out my eye.”

Gods, her heart throbbed in her chest. She knew, she knew she had no hope of ever understanding what it was like, how it had changed him and his path. But she so wished he could see that it did not make a single bit of difference to the people who loved him. “Aemond, there’s nothing wrong with you-“

“There is,” he snapped, pulling his hand from her grasp, and she realised it had been the totally wrong thing to say. “I am missing an eye, and your precious Luke took it. He disfigured me and his brother would steal my brother’s throne. Our family’s throne, Visenya.”

Not this, she wanted to beg him, do not start with this. “They are as much Targaryen as we are, Aemond,” she was losing her patience now, her voice rising. “I am half Royce, you are half Hightower, they are half Strong - what difference does it make?”

“They are bastards,” he ground out as she threw up her hands in frustration. “And their mother is a liar and a manipulator.”

Sena scoffed. “Like your brother is some bastion of virtue. Do not make me laugh, Aemond. He humiliates Helaena, terrorises the servants, brings shame on the entire family. He brought you to a whorehouse on your thirteenth name day-“ it slipped out, and Aemond went pale.

“Who told you that?” His jaw had gone slack. He looked far away. “I- it doesn’t matter. It didn’t mean anything, Sena, it was just- you are the only woman I’ve ever wanted.”

That was not the point, she thought. The point was that his brother hurt everyone around him. The point was that Aemond had been brought, young and vulnerable and innocent, to be taken advantage of for his brother’s sick and twisted vision of masculinity. “I’m not jealous, Aemond-“

Again, it was the completely wrong thing to say. She knew it as soon as she saw the flicker of rage in his eye.

“No, of course you’re not! Why would you be jealous, thinking about me fucking someone else?” He was furious, looming over her. “Everything in the world seems to matter more to you than I do. Your stepbrothers, your Princess, being a good daughter to your evil bastard of a father, following orders, doing what you’re told. You care more about them than you care about us, the people you grew up with! And for what? Do you truly think Rhaenyra gives a shit about getting you your birthright?”

All of the fury that had been roiling inside of her all day came to the surface in that instant. She laughed coldly. “You think this is about Runestone? You think I’m tearing out my heart and watching my family flay itself for Runestone? You’re standing in front of me questioning how much I love you, how much I have always loved you and you think I care about fucking Runestone!”

“What is it about, Sena? I must admit, I don’t even remember anymore!”

“This is about you hurting the people I care about and still claiming you love me, Aemond.”

He shook his head. “What do you want from a husband, Sena? A man who lets mockery and slights wash over him, who is too weak to defend himself?”

“I want a man who is strong enough to know not every prick at his pride needs answering with force!” She hurled back at him, hating how her eyes swam with unshed tears. It was shameful, to let him reduce her to such a state.

“Pride?” He smirked at her in that menacing way he usually reserved for others. Everyone but her. “You talk of pride and defending oneself, yet I never see you practicing what you preach. How long are you going to cower in your father’s shadow, using him as an excuse for your own inaction and cravenness? The girl who mounted Grey Ghost, the girl I fell in love with - she wouldn’t need her father’s leave to do fucking anything. You’re a coward, Sena.”

Sena went still, in shock at the harshness of his words. Her blood seemed to freeze in her veins. Gods, what had they come to? What was this family, this kingdom turning them in to? She held her hand over her mouth to stop Aemond seeing the way her lip wobbled. He was watching her, and the rage seemed to be dissipating from his features as he heard his own words in his ears.

Aemond’s eye darted over the blank expression on Sena’s face. His own countenance went pale. “I think it better if we do not say anymore tonight,” he said stiffly.

Sena looked past him, tried to still the trembling in her hands. “I think so too.”

She turned to leave him, but stopped when she saw the Queen standing there, staring at her son with wide eyes. Aemond seemed to notice her for the first time too. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. Deep shame rolled over Sena.

“They are leaving,” Queen Alicent breathed. “After your… outburst, Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon are leaving immediately.”

Sena turned back to the Prince. His gaze flicked back to hers. She did not know what to say.

“Sena,” he said, and the regret was clear on his face. He looked like there was a million things he wished to say but he did not know how to even begin to put words to them. “Write me when you get back, so I know you are safe,” he muttered, tone heavy with shame. “Please.”

Sena did not reply, did not even look at him again. She turned, made her way past the Queen without meeting her eye for the fear she might collapse under the shame of what Alicent had just witnessed.

She did not know how long Aemond stood there, watching her retreat. She only knew that by the time she was back in her rooms and Sophey was helping her pack, she felt entirely numb.

The letters to and from Aemond never came, however, as not long after their ship had left its berth in the harbour, the King slipped away in his sleep.

The Targaryens on Dragonstone did not know that for some days, though. It was only when Sena, Baela, Jace and Luke had to rush out of the way in the training yard as Meleys descended that they realised something was dreadfully wrong.

This is it, Sena thought numbly as she listened to the news in the great hall. The King was dead, and Queen Alicent had crowned Aegon in his place before all of King’s Landing. He was not mentioned, but Sena knew in her bones that Aemond had stood there in the Dragonpit and watched it happen. This was what they had all been dreading for years.

The Princess - no, the Queen - went into labour prematurely, and Sena wished she could have been there for her while she bled and screamed. She wished she could have marched down to the hall that her father was turning into his war room and demand he go be with his wife so she was not alone in this. But she did not. She retreated to the yard, whacking away at a training dummy until she could no longer lift her sword.

Maybe Aemond was right. Maybe she was a coward.

The baby had been a girl. The Queen carried her tiny, broken body to the funeral pyre alone.

As her sister burned and her Queen was crowned, Sena bent her knee.

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#aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #hotd #tqc #response has been BONKERS so far guys thank you so muchhhhh <3333 #tumblr i am begging you to stop goofing up my posts

[harukaprism]

Face sitting

Pairing: Sosuke Aizen x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut, MDNI, face sitting, cum eating, oral (f receiving), greedy Aizen, Gin walks in on you, hate fucking, I guess? Loveful hate? He also is like in his second stage with the Hōgyoku, long hair and purple eyes

Word Count: 1,294

Dawn's notes: I have been watching Bleach again, so, Here.

You were used to being treated like a pet with Sosuke, he had kidnapped you from the Soul Society when the three of them declared war, you were trapped in the castle that he had built in Hueco Mundo. 

The Arrancars regarded you with such disgust, but Ulquiorra was always kinder with you. He knew that you were important to Sosuke, he knew that to keep his lord calm you were needed so he never crossed you. 

Which is why you went to him to find the man your pussy was craving.

Your sexual attraction to the former captian was always there, there was no manipulation needed on his end, having met in the academy the two of you had always stayed close, you were lucky enough that he had never showed you the power Kyōka Suigetsu held. Claimed you were too precious. Disgusting. 

Knocking on the door that held the 4th Espada you knocked gently. The door opened in silence and you were met with the striking green eyes that studied you. “Sorry to bother you, but Aizen isn’t in our room, where could I find him?” You hated saying that you shared a room with him, he forced you to of course, you hated him sometimes, hated the way he looked at you with those honey brown eyes stared at you as you readied for bed with him, the way your inner muscles clenched seeing him fresh out of his bath. 

“Lord Aizen is in his study, claimed he was doing a project with the Hōgyoku.” That was all the information you needed, with that you walked away from the door down the long halls and stairways. 

It was easy to get lost in Las Noches, so many wrong turns, stairs that lead to nothing, so many levels that had too many people who wanted you dead, and one person who kept you here, but not by force. You wanted to be with him, to touch him, to revel in his praise and attention. What was wrong with you? 

Opening the door to the study you looked at the man you craved since the day you met. His hair was longer and his clothing much more different. No matter. As you approached you listened to him take a deep breath. “What are you doing here? It can be dangerous here. I know I have warned you multiple times.” His voice was calm and dripping in honey, it was almost convincing. But you knew the true beast that lived inside of him, the true Sosuke Aizen. The lonely man, the man who demanded control, the one who wanted to be king, created his own world where he was worshiped. 

But that was not what you care about. You wanted him to shut the hell up. Walking up to him you threaded your hand in his hair pulling him to the ground with you climbing over him. His beautiful brown eyes were glinting in the blue light that basked the two of you. “Shut up Sosuke.”

You had planned this, so you lifted your skirt and put your knees on the side of his face, you  sunk down and sat your bare pussy on his face. The best way to get a man who wouldn’t shut up to be quiet was to use his face. You clearly took him by surprise because he let out a muffled question, which of course you couldn’t hear, but with his mouth now open a bit you could get what you wanted. 

Even before anything happened you were already incredibly hot and bothered. The way his face was proportioned made it so your clit was easily nestled right against his nose. With a quick circle of your hips the pressure he was applying made your head swim. 

Sousuke always did this to you, he knew how to pleasure you just right to make you see stars instantly. Oh how you hated it. A chill ran up your spine as you felt the man under drag his tongue ever so slowly between your sweet dripping lips. 

Lacing your fingers through the thick hair at his skull you pulled roughly as you dragged against his face pleasuring yourself, the feeling of using him was exhilarating. Sure, you had ridden his face before but it was at his behest, not yours. Oh how the tables have turned. 

Suddenly, you felt his tongue push past your tight ring of muscles as he buried himself as deeply as he could. Bastard, it’s like he could read your mind, but it made your job easier. Lifting your hips you let yourself slowly descend back onto his tongue, how he was able to make you feel this full with just his tongue you had no idea, but you loved every second of it. 

Those strong calloused hands wrapped around your thighs pulling you down further into his mouth as he moved his face so he had free access to your clit. The devil sucked on the hardened bundle of nerves harshly sending pleasure rocketing up your body, the moan that you had been trying so hard to repress made its way to the surface letting it fill the room. 

Euphoria was always present when he pleasured you, even though he was very self centered when it came to you it was always you first then he would focus on his own pleasure and release. Grinding harder against his face you braced your thighs around his head squeezing tightly as white shot across your vision letting your orgasam rock your body. 

His suckling to the sweet bud became softer as he let you ride out your release, you were sure you were suffocating him with not only your sweet release but your thighs yet you didn’t care. All you could do was weakly hump his face like a bitch in heat. 

Once the buzzing in your head and sex calmed down you lifted yourself up on your knees getting off of his face you glanced down to see Sosuke move from under your skirt gleaming back at you, his face was coated in your juices and release; breath steady and calm. Asshole. 

“Why do you look so smug?” You scoffed as you went to get off of his body, ready for the distance he always gave you after nights of pleasure. It always puzzled you, he demanded your

closeness yet it seemed you somehow got too close and he put distance between the two of you. 

“What God wouldn’t love for a woman to suffocate him with her sweet pussy?” He chimed as he pulled you back up further lolling his tongue out before the door to his office opened. 

“Captain Aizen…” Came Gin as you whipped your head to look at the man. “I see you are busy, I’ll come back later.” Just as quickly as the silver haired snake appeared he disappeared. 

A rush of embarrassment flooded your body as you struggled against his hold, you had a few interruptions before, a few Arrancars coming to your bedroom door as you were going down on him to summon him for a meeting. “Let go Sosuke.” Your mumbles came out quickly but gently. 

He knew what no meant with you, but he wasn’t listening this time. “We are not done, until I am drowning in your sweet nectar. You started this, now you get to go with my plan.” The purple in his eyes was gone and his hair was short again, not that it mattered. 

“You’re such an asshole.” You let out a whine as you clenched your thighs around his head again feeling his assault on your abused clit. 

You hated him, but fuck if you didn’t love what he made you feel.

#bleach #bleach fanfic #bleach fanfiction #bleach x reader #bleach x you #bleach fandom #aizen smut #sosuke aizen #bleach fic #aizen sōsuke #aizen sosuke #aizen x you #aizen x reader #sosuke aizen x reader #sosuke aizen x you #aizen sosuke x reader #aizen sosuke x you #sosuke aizen smut #bleach smut