Thread by @biboopbichen

#WarprizeJiSeason
vague troy au where wwx is the most fearsome warrior in the lands and fights in wrh's army and can't stand wrh but still marches to gusu and helps capture the capital city and returns to camp where two soldiers take him to his tent and show him his prize,

a beautiful young lan disciple tied by his wrists to the tent pole, gazing off in the distance as if he didn't notice wwx come in so wwx removes the top half of his armor and begins washing himself by the water basin
"what's your name?"
"..."
"did you not hear me?"
"..."
he takes

a closer look at the young man and sees the charred hem of his robes and determines he must have been protecting the great library before the wen soldiers set fire to it and that's why he won't talk to wwx, who actually took no part in it but doesn't try to gain any pity points

with his captive
"you must be nobility," he concludes because this disciple has clearly spent a lifetime looking down at others and after smelling a lock of his hair wwx determines this must be one of the famed twin jades
he gently unties him and asks for his name for what

feels like the hundredth time and finally the young man starts rubbing at his wrists and answers, "...lan wangji" while staring at the floor of the tent so
wwx asks him, "are you afraid, lan wangji?" because surely in every corner of the world they've heard of wwx and his great

evils but then the young man looks him in the eye, which most people don't dare to do, and asks "should I be?"

wrh intended lwj a peace offering between him and wwx, a pretty bedslave who hopefully calms his temper and makes him more agreeable to talk so wrh quickly realizes wwx is smitten with the second jade and decides to use it to his advantage

so wrh has lwj stolen from wwx's tent to have assurances that wwx won't spoil wrh's war for his own gains and wwx watches with clenched teeth as wrh approaches lwj, now dressed in thin servant's robes and says tonight he'll have lwj give him a bath

if you see typos no you don't !! uhh more later?

More!
although he does make good on his promise of lwj bathing him, wrh knows better than to do anything to the second jade at this point. he needs to keep wwx under his thumb, and just the threat of what he might do to his captive should be enough to make him behave... for now

he attempts another siege against the forces of gusu but is beaten back this time. wwx didn't fight, his way of showing wrh that he needs him to win this war, and that he shouldn't play with what is wwx's
wrh is left stewing in his anger, drinking in his tent and suddenly

declares he doesn't need wwx at all and therefore doesn't care what happens to his little slave so he has someone give lwj to his battle-weary men for the night as entertainment
now if you're at all with familiar with troy and specifically briseis and achilles then you know what

I'm talking about but
\\ violence , threats of non-con
most of the men are awake and drinking outside of the tents, a fire going and roasting meat, and lwj is fine entertainment, the once esteemed second jade as nothing more than their plaything. as the night gets longer and

the men get drunker, they begin tossing lwj between each other, throwing him around the fire, groping at his robes and mocking him, how pretty he is, how nice he looks in those loose robes, and has anybody ever been under those robes before? perhaps they should find out but first

they decide to brand him, because he is nothing more than a wen slave now. the threat of being branded has lwj fighting more than ever and he strikes the next man who tries to get close to him, only to be struck back and forced still again. he feels the heat of the brand on his

skin, already burning, and prepares himself for the pain, until the shrill ringing of a flute can be heard all around them

More!
lwj hits the ground hard but he doesn't feel it, can't feel anything, isn't aware of anything, but the sound of that flute, as loud as the shrieking demons it supposedly controls -- he's heard the stories, and after what he's seen he has no reason not to believe them now --

his hands covering his ears, he hears a strangled scream which sounds like it could be anywhere from miles away to right next to him, but it takes the smell of flesh burning to pull him back to reality, to make him realize it's not *him* screaming, not him burning,

and as the yiling demon picks him off the ground, one arm under his knees, the other behind his shoulders, lwj sees the brand, next to a man (the same man who tried to turn that brand on him) writhing in the grass, clutching his injured neck. how severe the wound is, lwj can't

tell because the yiling demon has already turned his back and taken lwj with him, every soldier in their vicinity giving them a wide berth and not daring to cross his path. once they're clear of the others, lwj tries to get his feet on the ground -- he's not hurt, he can walk --

but the man carrying him only holds him closer, seeming to regard him as an unruly child. they make it to the tent, and the yiling demon still doesn't put him down, walking him *through* it before setting him on a throw near the fire.

lwj backs himself into a corner, not wishing to be handled anymore as the yiling demon brings over a wet cloth and a basin. instead of letting lwj do so himself, the man then tries to *clean* him, bringing the rag to his bloodied lip and lwj can't help reacting, swatting his hand

away. the yiling demon simply tuts, trying again, only for lwj to swat him away once more. tsking, he throws the rag into lwj's lap and lwj doesn't know what comes over him but he throws it *back*, back to the man who they say crawled out of the burial mounds with a horde of

corpses behind him, back to the man who could do absolutely anything to him, kill him, violate him, or leave him to the whims of wrh and his men, but the yiling demon simply breathes through his nose, looking more tired than anything, and drops the cloth back into the clean water

after a moment, lwj quietly takes the rag from the water, wrings it out, and starts wiping the blood from his lip. he and his captor sit in heavy silence until the yiling demon offers him food, holding out the platter without looking at him.

"Eat."
lwj hasn't eaten for days, and surely he's been stubborn enough for one night, plucking a loquat from the platter. he stares at his own lap as he meticulously peels off the skin, not because he doesn't like the taste of it, but so it will give him something to do.

"You think you've known men like me your whole life," the yiling demon states as a fact, eating his own food while looking at the wall of the tent. "We're all so different from your lan clan of gusu, violent, hungry for war."
lwj continues peeling his loquat. It's uncomfortably

accurate. he thought that way of the man before him. it was easier. the yiling demon had plenty of chances to be cruel to lwj, and he hasn't been, a bit coarse perhaps. But not cruel. if he hadn't saved lwj tonight, maybe he'd be bathing wrh every night, or enduring something

even worse.
"Why did you choose this life?" lwj asks before he can stop himself.
if it was not out of cruelty, why would a person sacrifice their body and heart for great power, dangerous power?
the yiling demon tilts his head.

"I chose nothing," he answers evenly, a hint of cynical amusement in his voice. "I was born, and I became." he turns to look at lwj, studying him in that way that makes him feel vulnerable. "And you? Why did you choose to love some old engravings on a wall? I think you'll find

the romance a bit... one-sided."
lwj flushes, taking a small bite of his loquat. he feels the yiling demon getting closer to him, deliberately getting into his space.
"I'll tell you a secret," he says. "Something they won't teach you at your Cloud Recesses."
lwj begins

to slowly shift his gaze to him.
"None of it matters, if you live without regrets. you're not meant to live the same life as your ancestors, reach enlightenment or whatever. you'll never be lovelier than you are now. we will never be as we are, right now, more than once."

surprise! let's get right into it

wwx wakens to the cool edge of a blade against his throat. lwj must move quietly, getting to wwx's dagger without waking him -- this is the only explanation. because wwx is sure lwj has not been concealing any

weapons. if he has, wwx probably would have found one stuck in his neck long before now. which means lwj has been waiting, a tiger without a claws, for his opportunity.

has has it. right now. so why is he waiting? wwx cracks an eye open. he can't see the true beauty of lwj's

face in the shadows, just the outline of his features, the point of his chin, slope of his nose. he can't see his eyes, can't see in his gaze what's staying his hand.

wwx raises his eyebrow without moving any part of his body. he knows how sharp that knife is. he sharpens

it every day, for some reason, as if a knife is important to him now.

"aren't you going to do it?" wwx asks into the darkness.

he's met with still silence, not that he expected anything different. if he's learned one thing about the beautiful and virtuous second jade of lan,

it's that he doesn't offer his words easily. all wwx sees is the slight movement of lwj's fingers as he readjusts his grip.

"do it," he suggests. "nothing's easier."

"you aren't afraid," lwj says, not really a question.

"everyone dies," he says. "now or 50 years from now.

what's the difference?" that being said, he doesn't *want* to die, but he understands more than anyone why lwj can't let him live.

"do it," he says again, and either sensing hesitation or completely misinterpreting, brings his arms up to grasp lwj by each of his biceps, pulling

him closer. if wwx is going to die tonight, he at least wants to see the face of the person who kills him. especially a face as lovely as this

wwx can see the tension in lwj's brow, subtle as it is, his grip on the dagger tightening with either determination or uncertainty.

hoping it's the latter, wwx does something that surprises them both, using his hands on lwj's arms to flip their positions, lwj on the cot and wwx on top of him, knee fit between his legs but not pressing into them.

he looks at lwj below him, plush lips parted for now deeper

breaths, silken hair fanned out behind his shoulders, the flawless skin of his chest visible under his threadbare robe, and leans down to kiss him, heedless of the point of the blade digging into his own neck, drawing blood, then slipping away, falling to the floor at the same

moment his hand slides up lwj's bare leg with complete permission