#also happy to know its still being read even if Im taking FOREVER 😭 very sorry about that

[totaleclipse573]

Hey I just realized I can actually ask this!

I was wondering where your headcanon of Eclipse's chaos energy being purple came from?

I was re-reading Warped Perspective and got curious!

Actually, it came out of something from my own personal universe (energy headcanons, special gems, etc, its a lot to explain sdbfskd) BUT. I do still like to use purple energy for him even if its outside of my personal canon. Why is that?

I just think it looks neat :)

[08melancholie]

Hi! First of all: love your writings! Somehow you manage to give me exactly what I want. I have read the lessen your stress one, amazing. Thank you. Lots of loves from the other side of the screen.

Now, I would like to request a one shot Micah/F!Reader (or GN reader if you want) where a really sweet and kind Reader likes Micah and actually wants to sleep with him but is a virgin and kind of shy, in contrast with the rough, brute Micah we all know, who will obviously want to sleep with reader too (either bc he likes them back or simply bc he’s desperate and wants sex, you decide, just please don’t miss characterize him too much, I like my Micah as the asshole he is :’) <3

Thank you very much and I really appreciate your work! <3 have a good day!

thank you sm for the compliments <33 and dw because i like to also keep my men just as scummy at times🙏

Some aspects might be similar to 'Untouched' here (still attached to that fic like a leech chat..) but i'll make sure it still sounds new!

Lose Some; Gain Some. — Micah Bell/Reader

tags: Smut, Porn, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Micah Bell Is His Own Warning, Virginity, Loss of Virginity, Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Sex, Orgasm, Multiple Orgasms, Rough Sex, but just a bit at the end, its micah he doesnt know how to be gentle sorry guys, Not Beta Read, no beta we die like micah bell

summary: You would rather take over doing everyone's chores in camp forever, than ask the question thats currently been plaguing your mind; one of your lowest lows, probably. You were told that a woman's virginity is a precious thing, how you had to lose it to the right person. This, however, you found to be total bullshit. And you wanted nothing more than the man who was Micah Bell to do it for you.

a/n: first ask yippiee!! i am so busy with exams oh lord i barely made time for this😭 i hope its to your liking!!! second ao3 post today im on a roll actually🙏🙏

words: 3,201 | AO3 LINK

Still being a virgin at this age is almost laughable. Well, it is; the girls haven't stopped teasing you since you told them during a game Mary-Beth told everyone about. You had to answer the question asked by Karen—about your sex life—or drink. You answered that you were still a virgin, and a few of them laughed; haven't stopped making jabs at you since. It's almost irritating.

And, your irritation made you slip up—by saying you'd lose your virginity tonight.

"What!? Tonight? With who?" Karen immediately snapped her head in your direction and away from the fresh laundry she and you were folding. There go the consequences of your actions. Who the hell do you even say?

You put down your own laundry back into your lap. "Well," You'll either have to lie your ass off, or go for the truth; but you sure as hell were not going for the latter. "guy I met in the saloon while we were still in Valentine, we've been writing." Not too bad.

Karen chuckled, thankfully buying into your lie. "Well, ain't I happy for you! It's about damn time, anyway." She goes back to the chore, like yourself, and continues your previous conversation.

Let's think logically—or, as logically as you could—about this; you don't exactly trust finding a random man in a bar to do this with, so who is going to eagerly take your virginity? Who would you ask that wouldn't tell anyone in camp about it, keep it between you two for the exchange of taking it from you? Who would you want to take your virginity?

You thought about how sweet Arthur would be; how he'd probably understand and treat you right, talk you through everything while praising you for following his instructions so well. Or maybe Charles; A gentle giant that would worship you as should be, show you how everything is done while talking in that deep tone you love to hear.

And then your mind went completely south of the previous two. You thought about how greedy he'd be, touching and moving his hands all over your body, wanting to feel every crevice under his rough fingertips. How he'd see taking your virginity as a precious thing, how you were told growing up, something you wanted him to have—and also as the biggest ego boost ever. He'd probably be a complete tease, too, nor would he talk you through the process like the other two. He'd probably just go for it, no instructions as you scrambled for what you had to do while he—

Jesus Christ, that's the last person you should be even 'just considering'.

Micah Bell is NOT an option here; forget it. Even if the heat between your legs didn't agree with these terms, you would not give your first time to that bastard. He was just an egotistical, rude, mouthy degenerate. Why the hell was the thought of how poorly he'd treat the situation getting you so worked up? You're practically soaking your garments over this bastard; and that's a problem.

Oh, but it's so tempting; this, unfortunately, wasn't the first time you've caught yourself thinking of him, imagining him in bed—which is reasonably worse than the former. Could you refuse yourself this small want? When you think about it, he might be one of the only people here who'd jump to get intimate without question, seeing how he catcalls and flirts with most of camp; including yourself a few times. God, were you really going to do this? How would you even bring it up?

This was something you needed to think of on the way, because it was nearing nighttime and you'd probably lose him to the darkness in the outskirts of camp, where he's usually found. As soon as you finished folding the laundry, you excused yourself from Karen and went to find Micah, thinking over what you would say to him. You had a whole dialogue figured out by the time you spotted him smoking by Baylock, probably having gotten done tending to the horse after the job he went on today. You really had to just brace yourself and follow your little plan, while hoping it'll turn out how you envisioned it to.

He noticed you approaching while you were a few steps away, the nervousness in your body language not hard to make out; hands clasped together, eyes focusing everywhere but on his own, your steps almost reluctant. He raised an eyebrow at you while taking a drag from the cigarette. "Look who it is; worried I'mma bite 'ya?"

You were barely able to give a reaction to his words, your nerves making you go almost silent. "Hah, no.. no, I'm..." Come on! We practiced this six times already! As soon as your eyes darted to his own greyish-blues, you lost your goddamn ability to speak. For the love of God; get your shit together. "Listen; this is very hard for me to even say out loud." Well, it's a good start.

Micah's eyebrows furrow slightly, your sudden shyness compared to the usual quips you could muster up back to his flirting or teasing very abnormal. But, he doesn't comment on it, wanting to hear you out before he teased you further. "Go on then, girl." He speaks, tossing his cigarette elsewhere.

The embarrassment this will leave you in will be history. "Okay.. so, uh.. I need your help with something—let's say." Your words just make him more confused; speaking to him in these absurd riddles. "Would you just.. hear me out?"

The blonde man nods after a moment, folding his arms over his chest while leaning back on the tree. Okay, you can get the words out, trust yourself.

"Would you.. and it's just a one-time thing, may I add." You start, a blush creeping up your neck and to your cheeks as you tried to think of what you were saying; you were about to ask Micah to get intimate with you. Yeah, you don't think this low can be matched. Nonetheless, no giving up now. "Would you take.. take my uh.. virginity?" As soon as the words leave your mouth, you have to hold back from fleeing the scene. "Listen—I lied to the girls and I just.. fuck, it's you."

Micah's had a small smirk on his face, mostly directed towards your nervous and shy state, until the sentence finally left your mouth. His smile dropped and he assumed he heard you wrong. "What'd you say.? Would I take.. your virginity?" He repeats back to you, definitely sure he's heard you wrong. But as you slowly nod your head, unable to open your mouth any longer, his eyes slowly widen a little more, rubbing his chin in thought. "Well, goddamn. You're one bold 'lil thing, ain'tcha?" Here comes the teasing you envisioned.

You roll your eyes to the comment. "I don't need your comments, Micah. You in or not? I'll gladly find someone else." You threaten, biting your cheek. Don't make me find someone else.

He perks up at your empty threat. "Hey—no, don't threaten me now, doll," He leans off the tree and gets right in your personal space, hands on his gun belt. "you know I love to help a lady in need out." He purrs at you, looking down almost menacingly.

"Good," You murmur, the closer he got the more nervous it made you. "then.. it's settled." It's only when he stands right before you, hands running up from your outer thighs to your sides, that you start processing what you've gotten yourself into.

His hands glide over your waist, feeling you up through your shirt. "Surprised yer still untouched, many would love a little body like this in their hands." His words and the small squeeze to your sides send butterflies straight to your stomach; you could practically lose it right then and there. "But it's only little ole me that gets it, huh?" His claim is followed by a darkish chuckle, ringing in your ears. He stops his hands over your ribs and the underside of your chest, looking down shamelessly at the little cleavage your shirt provides. "Well then; my tent?"

It took him barely a few seconds to get you through the flaps of his tent, tying the canvas shut and making sure you've got the bit of privacy camp life can offer. It takes him even less time to shove you down to his cot, seating yourself on the mattress and looking up at him settling atop you, knees around your outer thighs. "Don't you look pretty under me like this." His hands cup around the underside of your jawline, thumbs running up and down the outline of your face. "So, ever kissed a feller?"

You raise an eyebrow at the question. "Not that much of a prude." Your quick response gets a gruff chuckle out of him for a brief moment, before he'd leaned down and captured your lips with his, setting a nice and quick pace for the kiss. You return it with just as much swiftness, hand reaching for his belt buckle and gripping it, earning an appreciative sound out of Micah. "Good girl," His tongue swipes over your bottom lip, trying to enter your mouth rather quickly; but you don't complain, quickly complying. He gets himself an immediate taste of you, tongue swirling around in your mouth as if mapping out the contour of the body part. He goes back to exploring the rest of your body with his hands, moving them all around your sides and waist before stopping at the hem of your shirt and breaking away from your mouth briefly. "Let me see what I'm workin' with, doll." You breathe in the air that the kiss knocked out of you for a moment before wordlessly nodding, lifting your arms up for him to slide the shirt off, peeling it away from your torso and arms as you're sat almost bare from the stomach up now, only covered by your bra. Your shirt is tossed elsewhere, and he goes back to appreciating the view in front of him—or well, under him.

"Oh, you're perfect, little lady." He doesn't hesitate to reach his hands to your chest almost immediately, cupping you through the bra while running his thumbs on the upper flesh that was exposed. His fingers are as calloused as you envisioned, as if moulding your soft flesh with every swipe of his digits on your skin. He knows his way around your body, probably from the experience you lack. One hand stops groping you and moves to your back again, fiddling with your bra before unclasping it. Why is it that your shyness is only hitting you now? As soon as he starts moving your bra straps down to reveal your bare chest to him, you finally process that he's about to see you nude, and you definitely show some signs of reluctance. He notices your sudden demeanour change and looks from your chest to your eyes. "Come on, I don't judge, princess. Bet you're realll purty under here." His finger slips between your cleavage and hooks to the middle of your bra that connects the two pieces as he tugs at the material, slowly moving it away from your bare chest. It slips off your shoulders and arms, and you feel like a prey being inspected by it's hunter under that dark gaze Micah's blues hold. "Like I said.. damn beautiful."

Your shyness and nerves don't pass him by, and he doesn't want you to feel uneasy while he gets what he wants, so he decides to try and ease you up with another kiss, leaning up and snaking one hand to the back of your head to pull you in while the other went to your jean button, undoing it before moving to the zipper. The kiss definitely helped calm you a bit, your hands on his shoulders now as you clung to his shirt, kissing back with a small hum in your throat. He works your zipper down and hooks his fingers into your waistband, breaking the kiss again. "Lift your hips real quick," When you comply, he pulls your jeans down and you help him by kicking them off when they reach your ankles. His hand finds itself right between your legs, swiping at your still-clothed and warm entrance to find you just as aroused as he was. "damn, lookat'chu. Surprised a lady sweet as you'd be this wet over fuckin' a bastard like me." You almost moan at his comment, your garments definitely as damp as you felt them between your legs, drawing your shyness and embarrassment to a whole new level.

He leans away from you to strip his jeans off, first unclasping his gun belt and placing it over to where your shirt was, slowly moving into unzipping and undoing any other restraint that stopped him from getting naked. He looks to you—just watching him strip his pants off—and chuckles briefly. "Well? Get them panties off, sweetheart. Ain't need experience for that." You snap your eyes away from the small peek of a happy trail on his stomach that you, shamelessly at that, were staring at and stand up momentarily to slip your undergarments off, tossing them just shy of the other articles of clothing. "Mm, good, good.." He hums, letting his jeans drop before wasting no time with his drawls, slipping them off and freeing the leaky, visibly throbbing erection that was hidden in it. Your eyes scan over the length; it doesn't look too big, you can probably take it...

But where many assume Micah lacks in length—he makes up for in thickness.

He positions you to turn and bend over the cot slightly, hands on the mattress and back slightly arched. He's moving you around like a doll, positioning you to his liking. He lets out a small whistle when he's got you exactly how he wants you. "Ain't often I get a chance to do this type of thing... Almost feels like an early birthday gift." He chuckles while running one hand down your spine and moving to your hip, stroking himself with the other. He swipes two fingers over your entrance—earning himself a small moan—and uses it, mixed with some of his precum, to moisten his member up. "Now, might hurt a bit, ain't gonna lie to 'ya." You knew that much, mostly why you were adamant to the idea of sex for a while, but it can't be that bad, can it? "But we'll try to keep calm, eh girl?" He punctuates his last sentence with a squeeze to your hip before his tip slides between your warm folds, slickening himself up some more while he rubs his cock just shy of your entrance—unable to help himself from teasing you some. You let out a plethora of meek moans and huffs, your cunt itching for him to just ease it in. After a moment, he stops his tip at your entrance, ready to slide in. "I'mma go slow, try to make it.. durable for 'ya."

There's definitely a small stretch mixed into the overwhelming feeling of your walls being filled by Micah's thick shaft, clenching around him as you sigh and gasp to every inch filling you. "Shh, you're alright.. look," He reaches one hand over around you, two fingers pressing to your clit and making slow circles on it. Your sighs turn into small moans again. "Yeah.. good, focus on ma' hand, baby." He hums, slowly starting to bottom out into your pussy. His hips meet your rear as he continued to rub over your nub, giving you a brief moment to adjust before he pulls out to the tip—then slides right back in. The pain isn't as bad as people made it out to be, but some have a higher pain tolerance either way. You do your best to focus on the sensation Micah's rough fingers are playing on your clit, more than the way his cock slams into you and creates an almost echo-ey sound of skin-on-skin slapping, filling the tent with the suggestive melody.

The repetitive motion of his dick brushing your gummy walls has you on cloud-nine; you're gasping and moaning, letting his name slip past your lips in a pitched tone, grasping fistfuls of the sheets underneath you as his pace slowly gets faster per thrust. "Don't think it's smart I cum inside," He chuckles, punctuating himself with another slam of his hips into your ass, followed by your sweet little whine, almost like a protest. "you want me to?" He asks curiously due to your whine, and his grin gets so much wider when you nod your head, and his pace turns relentless. He starts fucking into you how he likes, trying to get himself to cum while rubbing you faster to get you there with him. "Can't wait to feel you clench this pretty cunt around me," He purrs with a small kiss to the nape of your neck before his focus is back on fucking his throbbing cock into you, getting himself closer by the moment.

You feel your own orgasm start to approach, your legs slightly jittery from the upcoming feeling. Micah takes quick note of this change and rubs your clit faster, drawing more whiny moans out of you that get muffled by the action of burying your head into the mattress; last thing you need is someone hearing you moaning Micah's name. Your whines are breathless and abrupt, getting cut off by each of Micah's quick thrusts into your cunt, all until you finally feel yourself tip over the edge and you cum, the clench of your pussy around Micah enough to get him there just a moment after you. He buries his cock deep into you, holding you up from collapsing into the bed by the hips as his chest makes contact with your back, the side of his head on the very top of your torso as he gasps breathlessly. "Ah.. there we go.." You can feel him empty himself inside you, your shaky legs barely supporting you with Micah doing most of the work.

He gives himself a moment before pulling out and placing you down to lay on the cot. "Let me tell you somethin', darlin';" He gets his underwear and jeans off the floor, slipping into both before leaning over you to whisper into your ear. "This definitely ain't 'gon be a one-time thing—not with how addicting that cunt is, or with how 'ya love to scream my name." He purrs lowly while clasping his gun belt back up, running a hand down your spine and stopping at your ass with a firm squeeze before moving you to lay more comfortably on his bed. "Well, get comfortable, think I'm up for a smoke.." He lazily tosses a random blanket in his tent over you—it's the thought that counts, apparently—before leaving you in his tent to rest up.

And you agree; he's addicting, and you will be fucking again.

Kudos on AO3 very appreciated!! we love the micah smut where hes still an ass to us <3

[pendwelling]

okay i really need spoiler for this

When will jess stop shiping Ogmc and ml?

And will ml tell him about his though? It's just bothering me for a while now im at ch140 and nothing seems like improving between mc and ml

(Not cris making fun of cedie its so funny but now i can't take it anymore😭)

I'm not sure if this is the answer you're looking for, because to answer it would mean to first and foremost analyze the character of Jung Yeseo haha. TWSB, unexpectedly, is so much more if you look past the veneer of silliness and comedy, and it intentionally does that at the beginning of the story to lure you into a false kinda sense of security, but also because of how Yeseo, as a character, influences the narrative voice and atmosphere of the story.

I'd like to first of all point out that a large part of why Jung Yeseo is so fixated on Christelle and Cédric's relationship stems primarily because of his sister and the original novel. Subconsciously, as well as very consciously yet deeply buried within him in a sort of self-preservation tactic, Yeseo is very aware of the fact that his life has been transported into a novel. While he doesn't display it in every chapter, he is also HEAVILY plagued with homesickness and a yearning to return back to his siblings. In his mind, the universe being a Rofan means that the World naturally revolves around Christelle and Cédric, and thus they're blossoming "romance". The story cannot be completed if they do not get together—and them getting together is also important, because above all else, this is JUNG EUNSEO's favourite story, and a part of Yeseo knows this very well, and his sister's beloved story isn't exactly something that he should meddle with. The characters' happiness is in a way tied to his sister's happiness (and there's kinda a lot to be said about this but anyhow I'll move on—)

In the initial parts of the story, Yeseo still has to fully come to terms either the fact that he's not /just/ in a novel, anymore. It is his current reality. But at the same time, it is blazingly obvious to him that there are also subtle outside forces that keep bringing him and the other protagonists together, so he resigns himself to the pull of "fate" and the "narrative", justifying it as such bc, well, he's in a novel.

Gradually, however, Yeseo DOES, in fact, get to know these "characters" better, and thus, sees them as their own people, separate from the fictional archetypes that he's only heard a bit about from his sister—whose words are rule, since they were literally the only point of reference for Yeseo who has never read a single word of QPB. As Yeseo grows closer with both Cédric and Christelle, he grows to learn more about them, and their personalities, and their traumas, worries, dreams, ambitions.....

"Cédric Riester" and "Christelle de Sarnez" no longer remain as "characters" to him, but real-life people whom he loves, cares, and worries about. Through all their struggles, trials, an adventures, they grow an indescribable bond that brings them closer than ever. Yeseo cares about them, worries about their future, and above all else, wishes for their HAPPINESS. The happiness is a big thing here, because Yeseo, also, is distantly aware of the constantly overhanging fruit that is:

HE DOES NOT BELONG THERE.

No matter how close he becomes with the people of QPB, there is nothing that could ever change the fact that at the end of the day, his ultimate goal has always been "return home to my family". Even when he loves his friends dearly, he will always and forever want to be with his siblings, and a big part of the story is Jung Yeseo coming to terms with his love for his siblings is both his driving force AS WELL AS the very thing holding him back.

In a way, you can interpret Yeseo constantly hoping for Christelle and Cédric to get together as his way of reassuring himself that, when he leaves them, they would at the very least have each other to rely on. Throughout the story, Yeseo expresses several times concern over Cédric and his future, hoping whenever he can that when Cédric ascends as Emperor of Riester (presumably, once Yeseo leaves to go back to his family), Cédric would have an entourage of people who genuinely care for and support him, even if Yeseo is not there. He does this with looking at the people around them and wondering how they might fit into Cédric's support net. Élisabeth as his bestfriend and future head of the Imperial Guard; Johann as a Cardinal Holy Knight and his teacher. Jibril Diop as a combat mage and a surprising fit for a future Prime Minister, etc etc. And naturally, Christelle as his Political Companion, and hopefully, just a close partner in general, whether it be romantic or not at all. Christelle and Cédric are most often his targets of "shipping" because they are just, plain and simple, his closest companions in that world who he worries about the absolute most, and who just so happened to have been a couple in another world. To Yeseo, that's enough of a reassurance that they will support each other, be there for each other, open up and be their rock and hill—even long after he is gone.

Of course, thankfully, this dilemma of "belonging and not belonging" and choosing one family over the other gets resolved masterfully by the author, so in the end, these worries of Yeseo are finalized in a way that makes you feel content with the outcome of everything. Both he and the readers no longer worry about leaving anyone behind. They managed to fight against the forces of the narrative and stay together. In the end, that's all that matters—Yeseo reunited with his siblings. Yeseo, Cédric, and Christelle get to stay together. It doesn't truly matter in what way, only that it was POSSIBLE, and that they fought tooth and nail for it to BE possible.

So yeah, haha, Yeseo will continue having these small delusions of them getting together (defence and coping mechanisms disguised as recurring gags), but he does come to realize that his friends are MORE than just their original character settings. But it doesn't stop him from hoping that they all genuinely find happiness—and he also realizes, eventually, that both Cédric and Christelle's happiness involves him, too.

Please do not worry. The character and relationship development in TWSB is truly masterfully written. I understand that it might appear slow to some readers, but in the end, when you reach that final chapter of the main story and look back at where it all started, you truly realize just how far all of these characters have come and how they've changed. TWSB is the kind of story that you cannot just take at face value, even if it initially presents itself as a simple, comedic, feel-good healing novel. It's so much more than that, and the first 100 chapters are really only dipping your toes into what it has to offer. Things start picking up when it gets to the real core of the story, but it must first go through the foreshadowing foundations disguised as silly inconspicuous things.

But anyhow, I hope this made sense haha... Jung Yeseo's shipping gag is truthfully more than just a gag when you analyze it closely in according to his goals and anxieties. I hope this was able to soothe some of your worries in any way!

[narwhalandchill]

okay so. skirk thoughts

first of all: as much as her design is still just kind of an ehhh compared to what couldve been, i do think it looks so much better in the actual game. the sfx in her arms and legs in particular helps a Lot imo. still not a massive fan but given i already loved the hair+eyes as well as the general color scheme, im warming up to it. still unfortunate we didnt get something more ambitious but i can live with this lmao

personality wise i actually really love how they went about her? its a little unexpected but skirk really has that abyss autism rizz to her JSJSIDISGFK love it. like this really isnt someone used to any manner of regular human interactions and it shows. i really like how blunt and utterly unfazed she is even when dropping some insane lore bombs bc theyre just peanuts to her. shes just completely unlike any character from any faction weve encountered before and i rly love the energy they gave her

i also found her little ramble about the value of life and death pretty interesting. it almost makes it sound like she considers herself dead in some way? with how she talks about there being no point in holding onto the bonds and remains of dead things and how this personal philosophy of hers is why she never comes to the surface anymore. like huh. whats up with that.

it also really reminds me of how an underappreciated aspect of childes characterization imo is how like. Incredibly insistent he is on staying alive being the most valuable thing? like this comes up Repeatedly in his voicelines. and now we have skirk literally talking about how to live is in itself a blessing. like i am Not buying this being coincidental at all. so unless they physically disprove me in this somehow down the line im taking this as 100% proof that childes high regard for life is Directly imparted to him through skirks teachings. and thats really interesting to think about.

and like. overall im quite happy with this glimpse of her character we have? i have bigger issues with the overall handling of the childe+narwhal+skirk segment of the AQ but those are narrative problems. skirk really stands out as a character and shes just. really fascinating AND funny as fuck in her nonchalance like. what an icon.

the only real unfortunate thing w her appearence specifically i think just has to do with the way her manner of speech and position as a narrator of dubious reliability to an extent is already leading to some. Quite unfortunate misreadings and/or taking the implications of her statements too far at face value. and i just know fandom will latch onto those forever 😭

(& jic i dont mean dubious reliability in the traditional unreliable narrator or like. lying or sth sense. just that her worldview is so alien and foreign to us that it should be taken into careful account before just blindly running off with any particular thing she claims)

like. firstly. the narwhal. ppl really dont seem to be catching onto how skirks perception of it as just a scuffed pet thats a hassle to manage isnt like. actually reflective of what a massive deal of an entity it is (read the boss fight quest item drop lore i am begging. or just wait for me to start narwhalposting JAJSKDK its coming 100%) 💀💀 what it DOES reflect more than anything is what an absolute maniac surtalogi (+ skirk by extension) has to be in order to claim a creature of this magnitude as a PET of all things. its also good to note that skirk herself readily admits both her highly unconventional view on most things AND that her master wont necessarily share any and all information with her - more so what he thinks is pertinent for her to know. her assessment of the narwhal as a nuisance of a task for a disciple isnt really reflective of the ultimate big picture HSJDKDKSK though it is very funny i have to admit.

im just preemptively annoyed and frustrated by it already bc its highkey giving azhdaha all over again where 99% of fandom just dismissed his deeper lore bc they took the storytellers claims of zhongli creating him at complete face value. like to the point hoyo had to literally add a whole segment at the end of the chasm interlude where zhongli more or less directly wink wink nod nods that a career entertainer isnt giving you the most accurate lore on this stuff 😭😭 like please. ive had the tears from among the stars lore fucking HAUNTING me ever since i first read it. its not just a silly pet whale im hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

and secondly. people really jumping the gun on "haha skirk thinks childe weak" when she was... quite literally speaking in past tense JSJSKDKSISKDK thats ajax 14 not the current state of things. while i do agree skirks power level is still way above his to the point i absolutely do think she considers him weak from her standpoint & ways off from his true potential, id also just.... like to point out that she pretty much confirms that her view of his competence has very much changed too? like please yall

skirk, who in all the years post ajax' 3 day abyss trip made NO effort to contact or keep up with him whatsoever and stated that her disciple wasnt worth even speaking to in the past has now LITERALLY voiced the intent to assign him the task of being a messenger between herself (possibly even surtalogi) and neuvillette. and she has made it VERY clear that she views the communication between herself and neuvillette (and traveler too) as one between equals?

this isnt her assigning childe some irrelevant side quest to keep him busy but actually utilizing him for a task she takes at least relatively seriously. like wdym she still considers him the exact same as before 😭😭😭😭 like obviously childes far off from being regarded as anywhere near an equal by skirk bc SHES just that insanely powerful but seriously. to me this is as clear an acknowledgement of his growth on her part as we will get JSJSKDKFKSKDKJ

but alas. everyone loves a "ha ha childe so weak XDDDD" like they just never wanna let that one go. Man

anyway still rly like skirk!!! all im Really hoping for in the future Especially w how i feel the 4.2 narrative while overall brilliant really sidelined and mishandled the potential and gravity of the narwhal side of things is that like. PLEASE let the interlude be the continuation to this 3rd descender n skirk n childe abyss situation i am so fucking tired of khaenri'ah and the abyss order im sorry lmao

also itll be like 4 years before we ever see her in Real action as a combatant but i am already So hype to see that. especially since her powers are so abyssal and alien in nature like thats going to be So gourmet i just know it.

[seattlesellie]

this is super random (also this is my first msg to u hi <3) and i’m honestly asking this generally to anyone else who also happens to read this, but recently i’ve realized my sexual orientation and come to the conclusion that i’m like REALLY attracted to women (as a woman myself ofc). so obv this made me also think abt how someday i’m gonna have to tell ppl close to me abt this but i’m literally losing my mind cause i’m NAWT vulnerable especially w/ my parents 😭 and also i just now was watching a tiktok live that was full of homophobic ppl and whenever i see that on the internet, it makes me wanna go deeper in the shell (or closet lmao) that i already am in. like it makes me realize how many horrible ppl there are that won’t accept smth so simple (i’m also very emotional as u can see 😍) so like tbh i’m not sure what i’m seeking here but ig i’m just curious if u or anyone else has felt like this/what helped u come out? like it’s so hard for me to be open and as someone who recently graduated and is going to uni, in a completely diff country alone, i’m gonna have more freedom and if i were to date another girl, it’d feel unfair to my parents if i didnt say anything prior abt my identity. ik they’re also very supportive, which i’m thankful for, but i just HATEEE vulnerability. idk man :( it’s also very weird finally realizing more abt myself. it makes me SO happy yet so so so scared? aarrghh idk sorry abt this long message, u seem like the nicest person and this place feels safe, so i just felt like i could ask/find some kind of relatability. 💗 sorry again for this long ass rant LOLS 🌟

okokok im gonna tell u my coming out story because i can awfully relate to this ?? n adding a read more cos this is so long sorry <333 🤧

literally knew i liked girls my entire life and like suppressed the shit out of it. would try and date guys all throughout highschool and would feel so terrible afterwards… but like you, i was super uncomfortable with that type of vulnerability and also barely had any gay friends, let alone any gay female friends. so i spent my life just thinking im gonna be in the closet forever !! until i met my now ex gf, she would constantly be sleeping over— but i did the classic thing of telling my parents she was just my new best friend, until one day my dad was like… be so fr rn are you two dating. like you said, my parents are also very liberal and supportive (especially my dad), but still— it made me panic and drop a mug and deny deny deny !! then, after being together for like 6 months it was incredibly hard to hide it, and obvs she felt super uncomfortable bc i was super closeted and she was super out. so i kind of had to come out to my parents (i hid under a blanket and told them i have an important thing to say n then they already somehow knew). my parents and i literally never talked about these things like my mom didn’t even know about my first kiss or literally NOTHING about me, we didn’t have that type or relationship at all so i can relate to u so hard !!but like here’s the thing— i don’t think it would be unfair to your parents, this is your story to tell and you should do it when you feel comfortable enough, and if it takes you dating a girl for that then so be it. you shouldn’t worry about other peoples feelings about this, as this is yours to tell and not theirs! as long as you’re in a safe environment, coming out can truly be such a big fucking relief !! like that absolute weight that drops out of your chest is so so freeing. if the people who are close to you love you— they will accept you. if they won’t? truthfully, they don’t deserve u and never have. about the homophobia, its always going to be here, unfortunately for us hateful and bigoted people will always exist, and that can be extremely stressful and painful, which is why surrounding yourself with people from your own community is so so important and necessary. uni is such a good place to do that !! so many new people to meet and especially queer people to surround yourself with !! i super understand your fears but the good things that happen after you come out— that feeling of no longer needing to hide yourself is so so worth it 💗💗💗💗

[stayxlix]

hi hi hi🩵💗 I had a really good week actually! I hadn't been on my phone much bc I actually moved to a new flat!! Aside from that though, I totally agree that our minds work similarly bc I pretty much agree with anything u say haha😭💗 AND NOW DID YOU JUST SAY THAT MAYBE YOU'LL WEAVE SOME OF THE TROPE INTO OTDE?!?!?!?! I AM SCREAMING. i literally live for this trope and otde omfg I'm unwell. I feel like it really fits them, not only bc they are so emotionally tied but also bc I also the love that evolves from hate (well it's always there but i hope you know what i mean😭) is really strong and pretty much consuming, since both hate and love are really strong emotions, so them combined is a heavenly disaster and makes the relationship in result pretty much disastrous (in a good way tho)!

I would also like to say that you write the tension between lix and mc so well — it's so real and never seems forced.

BUT YES THE MOODBOARD IS VERY MUCH IN PROGRESS, IN FACT IT'S ALMOST FINISHED!!! for now, I decided to portray their relationship/the overall feel of the series rather than them as specific characters (or specifics of the story BC IT WOULD BE SO LONG AHAGWH) and I totally agree that the two colours could definitely fit our two mains, though I would say that Felix in otde is pretty much dark red coded and mc green but a vibrant one (but I also feel like a dark green or forest green could fit really well ANJW IDK??!?!) if that makes sense? I might look into some specific shades and then see🤔 (also, why do i feel like Vans just for some reason fit otde...)

ALSO you are not rambling!! I'm so glad you are sharing your thoughts on this too bc I wanna hear EVERYTHING you have on your genius mind💗 i'm so unbelievably happy that my asks make you giddy 😭😭 I always love LOVE LOOOVE to read your answers and really make sure to go through everything that you said, just to make sure that I didn't miss anything! No seriously I appreciate you sm and I'm so glad I've found you, your blog, and your beautiful story😭🩵

I AM ALSO VERY MUCH GLAD THAT YOU SHARED YOUR PLAYLIST, sorry for yelling but I listen to it veeeeery often (maybe too much for my own good...) and I'm still so happy that I could share mine with you! At first, I was pretty scared that you wouldn't enjoy some of the songs, since I wasn't sure what you like/enjoy and I haven't met many people who listen to crosses/ onlyoneof but now that I know you like it (and listen to it DAILY??!?!?!? OMFG) I'm so incredibly excited and giddy and ahahwbwbbw

I love you too, Alex😭🩵 thank you for enjoying my rants even if they are so long (especially this one💀) and responding! You always brighten up my day, and I really really really appreciate you sm! 🩵💗 you're really special to me too🩵 stay safe, and I wish you VERYYY good luck with everything! Stay safe and take care dearest, i love you and am sending another hug your way🩵

hi love🩵🩵🩵 i hope youre getting settled in at your new flat<3333 im no stranger to how much of a pain in the ass moving can be lol, so im very happy to hear that you had a good week despite how crazy busy i’m sure it was💕

(ITS TRUE I DID LET IT SLIP THAT I MAY OR MAY NOT BE ACTIVELY WORKING ON WEAVING IN SOME OF THE TROPE INTO OTDE) it’s just too good not to😭😭 and if we’re being honest i have been quite obsessed with the whole idea of it ever since you brought it up🤭 because let me tell you i am WEAK for any kind of love that evolves from hate (or maybe love that grows stronger from hate since, like you said, it’s kind of always there??) and that is exactly why enemies to lovers will forever be my number one trope.!!!!! well really just anything angsty but the two kind of go hand in hand i guess. and (maybe it makes me a bit of a sadist😂) but i absolutely crave love that begins with tragedy or heartache like don’t make it easy give me angry passion and raw emotion make me feel something😭😭. because it makes the bond between two characters that much stronger when they do eventually fall in love/realize their feelings for each other (okay i need to relax or this is actually going to be the longest reply anyone has ever written on this website😂)

ahhhh🩵🩵 it makes me so happy to hear that you like the way ive written the tension between mc/lix so far🥹🥹because tension between characters is something i always look for when im the one reading fics, so this makes me so incredibly happy/giddy/elated/all of the above ugh (giving you a forehead kiss rn🥹💕)

AND HOLD UP. DID YOU JUST SAY THAT THE MOODBOARD IS ALMOST FINISHED?!?!?!!?!?!!! i loveee that you ended up deciding to portray the overall vibe/relationship as a whole (even though though i don’t think it could ever be too long lol) and i am so very excited to actually get to SEE your interpretation of the story in a moodboard because i have a certain vibe/energy while im writing it and i am just suuper curious about how that might all be interpreted by someone who reads it (especially you my 🩵). AND I WAS GOING TO PICK LIX AS RED (specifically dark red YES) and mc as green!!!! i was going to include this in my last response i swear✋(but then i decided not to because i wasn’t sure if you might think the opposite and i didn’t want to put any kind of pause to your creative flowww) but come on, it’s us i should have known we’d have the same opinion lmao. (also your comment about vans made me chuckle, because it’s so random and yet, i can TOTALLY see it😂)

“I was pretty scared that you wouldn't enjoy some of the songs” omg don’t you ever be afraid to show me something!! i am always open to trying new things especially when it comes to music so i was thrilled to see a number of songs on your playlist that i hadn’t heard before. i promise.💕💕

i am so glad you don’t think my responses are too long (although you might change your mind after this one😂) but like you said, i just want to make sure i get to touch on every little detail because you have been so kind to me and you have put so much thought behind your asks and the playlist/moodboard are so much more than i could ever have asked for to come out of this, so i owe you that much at the very least😭💕and i am so so thankful that you stumbled across me and my little blog/story🥹 i have so much love and admiration for you and it just keeps growing<333 thank you for sharing your rants with me🩵 and for not giving up on me even though it might take me a day to respond🥹 (work sucks lol) but just know that you make me feel so special and seen and appreciated here🩵 i love you too, you take care of yourself, okay?? i wish you nothing but the best as you get settled into your new home and i am sending the biggest hug your way tonight🤗💕💕

[ihaveastorminme]

I know it's been years but there's hope you'll ever finished "how ruthless..."? I've been needing to read that story's ending to have some closure for so long 😭

hi anon, thank you so much for the question and the love implied, because im so happy that you still like this story and want to see it finished.

i have been saying forever than i am still writing, and i have - but those have been mostly edits and re-writes of things that i had written before, to fit a different mood so theres not anything new. im going to add under the cut one scene that is completely new and the opening scene of the new chapter im working on.

[and also add here what has been stopping me this whole time from completing this story that i very much want to complete.]

warned, very long post follows.

at first i changed my mind on the very arc of the characters. it started with jon being this flamboyant character who used melodramatics to mask his true self. that part where sansa tells him that she doesnt think he really loves her, was actually true. he did not, but she had kinf of fulfilled a fantasy for him and he was heavily involved with his idea of her, rather than the real person. and as i kept writing him i also wanted to portray the reason why he is so closed off, and his differences between who he used to be and who he is - and all those led me to believe that i hadnt really SHOWN the way the vioelnce in his past affected him. and that led me to write a more serious character, one that would just as easily confuse his feelings for sansa but express that confusion differently.

and sansa herself - i wrote her as very emotionally open, very easily connecting with jon - which is still a thing in the current version of the story - but also admitting those feelings easily to herself. and THAT last part didnt then make sense with her character. or rather where i wanted to take her character. i needed her figuring out that littelfinger has been behind her isolation and paranoya and all of that, to hit harder than it did. and it coudlnt the way i had written her the first time, because she had admitted her feelings for jon at least to herself. in this version, she never does. she never even considers it a possibility. one of the reasons she - subconciously - doesnt want to be around him is because she feels this very strong affinity for him, and she has been brainwashed, so to speak, to completely distrust her feelings about people. coming out of that needs a lot more time.

even as it is i think that the 'conflict' is still king of flimsy, but i also dont think that really matters to me much.

SECOND THING - i needed to add to two themes that were either very underdeveloped or missing entirely. one, a scene where jon sees the way sansa is treated in court, and reacts to it by 'crowning' her. i 'told' that scene before, and it needed to be shown, because sansa's reaction to that was severe, and though in the new version it is not, it is still portrayed as a very stupid thing jon did, out of impulse, and not like, actual outright intent to push her as in the first time.

second, i needed to flesh out where this 'image' of sansa in the eyes of the dragoncourt comes from. its not something she fashioned. its something that she simply uses. in this new light, her opening up to jon in the riverlands makes more sense, because she doesnt really lie, in king's landing. she just... doesnt make a spectacle out of correcting people's assumptions and has chosen to use them - same as Jon does , really, but sansa uses the assumption of weakness that has been put on her, while Jon uses the assumption of heartlessness. and both kinda sortea believe they are what others say they are, even as they scorn it, even as they wear it as a mask. which is the more insidious part of this whole thing. for sansa - her relationship with Viserys was abusive, and HE was the one who shaped the idea of who sansa was, that other people parrot back. i have never said this in the fic, not even in the re-written version, but the hints are there. and they were not before. i felt it was needed to make her character more cohesive, more believable, and also to build that bomb that was supposed to be Sansa realizing that it was Petyr, and not Viserys, who took Beth from her. ... i still have my doubts that i have managed to make it have the intended weight but as it is , its good enough for me not to obsess about it.

oh i also fixed what i thought was a pacing issue. there is no more picnic feast, it all happens in one night, one feast in the great hall. most of the conversations stay teh same, i have added one or two lines here and there, or removed some without much consequence. i wanted it done this way because i kept thinking of the timing of these things happening, and through realistically, it might have worked out. aka, this happenign in real life - in the story, it dragged down a part of the story where things needed to happen very fast for the tension to build apropriately.]

scene 1. golden laurels

The throne room was alight with music and laughter, the scents of roasted meats and pies. The wine was flowing freely. The music was beautiful and for the most part there had hardly been any fighting. It was overpowering, like too tight of an embrace, but one you could not bear to part with. 

Not all celebrated the same thing or in the same way. This was Jon after all, that they were supposed to be honoring, and he was too distrusted and misliked for it to be any other way. But as she made her way through the hall, greeting people and indulging them with flattery and charm, Daenerys believed that the mood was positive enough. And either way, this was one of those rare times when she had decided she did not have to care, but rather could enough the feast and the joy of the occasion.    

“-But do you not think that such a dealing could potentially overstep your mandate?”

“I do not,” Jon said firmly. “If a lord passes a law which he then violates, claiming to do so to calm an angry populace, that is wrong enough. And he is twice to blame if that anger is one that he himself created. Daenerys! A word.”

Jon did not even apologise; he just strode in her direction the moment he caught sight of her, leaving his interlocutors behind. Dany barely contained her grin. 

“You don’t seem to be enjoying your celebration.” 

Jon only shrugged before downing his wine. “They grow tedious quickly. Everyone wants something.” 

“And this surprises you?”  

“No. Where is Lady Stark?”

Dany blinked at his abruptness. “I certainly have no idea. Why?”

“Why is she not here? Half of King’s Landing seems to be.” He looked impassive enough, but she could see the truth of it in his hard eyes: it was a wonder anyone had spoken to him so far without getting cut.

“I told you, Sansa doesn’t like to attend court-”

“Unless she must, I remember.” But even as he spoke he’d already looked away from her, searching for someone. He caught one of the serving girls as she passed him by.

“See that woman there, with the dark hair and the red Lyseni gown?” he said before even giving the startled girl the time to curtsey.

“Lady Shae, your grace?”

“Yes. Tell her to come to me.”

“Yes, your grace.”

The girl hurried away. Daenerys stared hard at Jon’s face, consciously preventing herself the frown that her confusion was trying to stamp on her face.   

“Jon, what on earth is the matter with you?”

“Nothing at all. Lady Shae, good evening. I don’t see my cousin. Is she not here?”

Shae had just risen from her usual awkward curtsey. She could do a perfectly good one when she felt like it, but there was a particular brand of insolence that ran strong in this girl and that she refused to surrender. Like the flat look she was giving Jon in that moment, for instance. There was nothing subtle about that.

“My lady is at prayer,” Shae said curtly. Jon’s grey eyes glinted with suppressed emotion.  

“I would like her to honor me by joining the celebrations.”

Shae did not give in an inch. “Lady Stark is indisposed.” 

“Indisposed…” It was as if the word left a bad taste in his mouth. “Well, that's a shame isn't it? She will have to change her disposition into one that is more favourable.” 

Shae did not know Jon enough to know that he only spoke this softly when he was well and truly furious, but she was smart enough to recognize a threat when she heard one. Dany saw her tighten her jaw as if she was biting back the insult that lit up her eyes.  

“I have news she will want to hear,” Jon pressed on. ”And she owes me a word or two of her own.”

“She owes you nothing.” 

Shae spoke without inflection or emotion, her gaze unflinching and unafraid. Daenerys felt a shiver crawl up her spine. It was not fear, for no matter how fierce his reputation, how black his moods or the stinging of his indifference, Dany could never bring herself to fear Jon. It was merely the memory of old fears; the many lessons her brother had taught her, that her flesh had not yet shed. 

Shae’s words seemed to have a curious effect on Jon too. His face darkened, yes, eyes flashing with a strong feeling that Dany knew was wrath. But then it cleared, like the sky after a flash storm. It looked as if he’d been given an answer to a question he did not even know he was asking.

“That is true,” Jon admitted. “But not for you to say.”

“Even so.” 

“Tell your lady I require her presence. She would not refuse me.” Jon repeated, sounding like his own self again and calmer than he’d had all day. Then he smiled and it was a fierce and mischievous thing. “But if she does, remind her that I am the man to come get her myself.” 

Shae arched one brow. “Truly? And which one of your many selves should my lady expect? The black prince, the black bastard, or her cousin?” 

“Shae!” Dany hissed, straining to keep her face impassive, but Jon laughed loud enough to turn heads. 

“All of them of course. It will not surprise her one bit to hear it,” Jon finally managed to say, a hand going over his face to help wipe the smile off his lips. “As i'm sure we both know, your lady believes everything.”

Shae was not amused nor did she seem reassured. She did not bother with the pretence of curtesy, simply giving them both her back and disappeared among the crowd. The moment she was out of sight, Dany turned to Jon. “What are you doing?”

“Inviting my cousin to my celebration.” He looked at her as if she was the strange one. “Why, what does it look like I am doing?”

Dany could not believe what she was seeing. “It looks like you’ve lost your senses.” 

“There are many who would debate you on whether or not I ever had any.” 

Dany huffed. “Spare me.” And her contempt must have shown because Jon laughed some more. He may not care a single whit about it but he was behaving in ways that were bound to fuel the idiotic rumors that had been swirling about the Red Keep for the past moon.

“Jon, I warn you, do not make a scene.”

“Of course not. Excuse me, my company is in high demand tonight.” 

He pulled away from her and walked towards the balconies, stopping only to speak with one of his men, no doubt to tell him to watch for Sansa’s arrival. Which would be never, of course. Sansa was not one to succumb to such clumsy manners or threats. She would not come… which was a problem of its own, because Jon was not one to issue idle threats either. 

What the fuck was the matter with him anyway? Sansa had not said anything to imply they had shared more words than politely necessary, which had been easy to believe: only a small handful of people could go further than that with lady Stark. Few bothered to presume it possible or necessary. Dany had simply assumed she would be that way with Jon as well. Worse even, because it had been obvious that he intended to use her for something, up there in the Riverlands. 

As she was contemplating her options, Daenerys heard the chatter of the hall momentarily rise, swelling like a wave and then crashing down, expanding its ripple throughout the hall. There was open laughter pattered throughout, thought quickly shushed. Dany turned then and saw Sansa entering the hall through its northern gate, flanked by Jeyne and Shae. Her temper heated to witness the side-along glances and the little smiles that followed her. Dany knew what they were sneering at: Shae had been true to her word, Sansa really had been at prayer and it was quite plain to see. Aside from the diamonds in her ears, she had no jewellery to adorn her. Intricate hairstyles were the rule in official celebrations like this, the more elaborate the better, to better show the opulence of those wearing it. Sansa had her veil on, it fluttered with her every step like a silver cloud trailing behind her. The copper curls beneath it were unbound, unstyled. Her luminous dove-grey dress was exquisite, but despite how it flattered the line of her body or the lovely way the straight neckline exposed her collarbones and the tops of her shoulders, it was a downright conservative choice for a royal feast. 

Of course, none of this had been accidental. Sansa built herself up layer by layer every day, wielding her many selves the same way knights did sword and armour. There was a reason for every piece; this hall was simply not her intended audience. And yet, even here, the meaning shone through: the fine silver sheen of her silk dress immediately traced it to the silkworm farms of northern Dorne, famous for the almost metallic shine of their fabrics and sole dominion of the queen, who from time to time bestowed bundles of the rare fabric as gifts, marking out those that had her favour. Sansa had embroidered the jaws of a snarling direwolf on the right half the bodice in white pearls, its open jaws framing her breast, its tail curling among her skirts. Her diamonds were from the mines of the Stony Shore, the pearls from the Trident. She was courting Hardying by reflecting back at him the narrow idea that his underdeveloped imagination fancied was the perfect highborn maiden, while inflating his pride with suggestions of the power he’d stand to gain by possessing her. It was such an elegant hunt, Dany admired it even if she scorned the prey. 

And he would fall, of course. For all of his gallivanting on horseback, Sansa had more practice hunting than Harrold Hardying, who, despite all his failings, was an altogether different beast from Sansa’s previous ones. She would have no trouble muzzling him, Dany knew. She had muzzled worse. But it was not Harry Hardying’s eye that she drew now.

Jon reached Sansa faster than Dany did. It was as if he had materialised in front of her, so sudden was his appearance. Dany’s dread heightened but she couldn’t very well run through the hall and draw even more eyes than were already on them. Daenerys had not even taken three steps in their direction however, when she was herself intercepted. Margery came towards her, with Garlan in tow and a handful of Tyrell cousins. They all curtsied for her and Garlan kissed her palm. 

“Princess, my congratulations. The feast is splendid.” Margery leaned in to kiss Dany’s cheeks, her smile brilliant. Dany’s answering one was small and it did not reach her eyes. She had not forgotten fat Tyrell’s insult to Elia during Blackamont’s hearing. Daenerys was not about to welcome them warmly.

“Thank you. I am glad you are enjoying the festivities.” 

“We certainly are.” One of the girls admitted, looking to the others for confirmation. “The music has been wonderful; we have hardly managed to sit down for one reel at a time.” 

Dany chuckled. “I will extend my compliments to the singers and the players.” 

“To organise all this in a week is truly a feat, your grace,” Garlan pointed out, his enthusiasm more subdued than his sister, and therefore more tolerable. “I daresay there will be no better managed keep in the realm than the one you chose to make your future home.” 

The allusion to her future marriage was one that would have sparked her ire, but she knew enough of Garlan to know that he only meant it as a compliment. That he was the Tyrell Rhaenys liked best, aside from her own husband, spoke highly of his character. “That is very kind.” 

“Not at all.” 

“And how is the prince enjoying his accolades?” 

“I have scarce had the chance to ask,” Dany said, glad that she could find a use for her current company. “Would you like to join me and find out?” 

“Why certainly,” Margery said, delighted. Garlan offered his right arm to Daenerys, his left to his sister and together they moved to Jon. He was still where Dany had last seen him: with Sansa just past the northern gates, where the dragon heads were of the height of a tall man. Tyrion had also found his way to them, standing next to his lady as was his custom. As they neared, they caught the tail end of their conversation.

“It was not common rain,” Dany heard Tyrion. “It lasted for two weeks. That may be seen in the stormlands but King’s Landing was simply not equipped for it. The deluge claimed homes and shops and people alike. Fleabottom was flooded, hundreds of people died. And the Citadel has already sent out warnings it may happen again at the break of summer. Princess, Lady Margery, good evening.” 

Tyrion managed to bow his neck an inch greeting them. Daenerys held back a snort. “Lord Tyrion. Nephew. I bring you well-wishers.” 

Daenerys came to stand at Sansa’s side, putting herself Garlan and Margery between Sansa and Jon, forcing them all into a wider circle. Margery curtsied, the emerald that pinned the crown of braids on top of her head catching the light. 

“My brother and I wished to offer congratulations on the behalf of my house. We are so very glad to see such honors being bestowed on one so worthy.”

Jon inclined his head to her. “Thank you, lady.” 

“I was told you brought great relief to the people of the riverlands.” Margery continued, and Jon’s attention, which had strayed from her to Tyron, was brought back around. 

“I made myself useful.” The side of his mouth curved upward slightly. “It’s one of my few good qualities.”

“Few, you say,” Margery teased. “Apparently modesty is among their number.” 

“No, that was never one of my ailments.” Jon denied swiftly. 

Margery’s laugh was like the chiming of silver bells. “I have all faith that you will put all your virtues and many gifts to good use, your grace.” 

And Dany knew then, just by looking at her, her manner, the way she looked at him and stood beside him, how she spoke and even the way she moved her hands that Margery Tyrell was trying to endear herself to Jon. One look at Jon’s face and she knew he’d understood the same thing. And though her anger was for the closest target first, Dany knew that it was Margery’s pug-faced father that was to blame for this new development. 

Was the Black Bastard good enough for the rose of Highgarden, now that he officially sat on the King’s council, Dany wondered bitterly. Now that they thought he finally had the king;s favour?

It could not be so easy. 

“Lady Sansa, you look lovely this evening.” One of the Tyrell cousins said softly. Her hair was arranged less conspicuously than her cousin and she wore a fainter shade of green and gold, but she was lovely, and not at all sincere. Dany disliked her immediately, as she disliked the slant of her smile and the glances the other two girls exchanged. But Sansa received the words as if they were most plainly meant. 

“Thank you, lady Gena. You all look lovely as well. You must tell me the name of your dressmaker.” 

“I gladly would, my lady but I fear you will be disappointed with her. She is far too frivolous a creature to suit your sober taste.” 

Sansa acknowledged this with a nod, choosing to not speak on the implied insult. 

“Don’t be silly, Gena,” Margery said. “Can’t you tell lady Sansa has come from the sept? Is that not so, my lady?” 

“It is. I wished to congratulate his grace, before I retired.” Sansa explained, the lie so smooth on her lips that had Sany not known differently, she would have believed her.

“I am sorry to have disturbed your prayers, cousin.” 

He was a shameless liar and a villain, but Dany already knew this. She met his eye and Jon smiled as if he’d snatched the thought right out of her head and found it hilarious. 

Jon turned to Sansa. “Which gods were you praying to this time?” 

“The Seven, your grace.”

He did not smile, but Dany knew Jon enough to tell that something about Sansa’s answer amused him deeply. It danced in his eyes. 

“I am curious, what would a lady such as yourself pray for?” Tyrion interceded. 

“What do you care for prayer?” Shae asked, looking Tyrion over. “You don't believe in anything.” 

“Which is why I am so curious, my lady.” Tyrion explained, full of mirth for whatever reason.

“I pray for wisdom not to fear shadows, my lord,” Sansa answered softly. “And the courage to face them, when danger truly dawns.”

Jon’s lips curled upwards. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.” 

Sansa inclined her head. “As you say, your grace.”

It was strange, Dany thought, to see two people so important to her, speaking to one another for the first time from this close. They had spoken before of course, but the way they looked at each other now was different. And unlike the other times, their proximity in that moment highlighted how opposite they had always seemed to her: Jon, with his darkness and intensity that carried all before him, and Sansa, silver-bright with her glacial calm that moved for no one.  Like the two faces of the moon, it seemed impossible that they should share the same space at the same time. 

And share it they did: if before Jon had been standing too close, now he could no longer, but still, Sansa could not move an inch, without Jon mirroring her, whether it was shifting his body so it was facing her exactly or inclining his head if she looked away as if he was inching to put himself back into her line of vision. 

Daenerys knew these little tics about him. She had seen them before. She doubted he even noticed he was doing it. 

“Were you just now speaking of the great deluge of three years ago?” Dany asked, trying to divert attention. Perhaps if she distracted them with politics, she could give Sansa a chance to slip away. It was a game they had played so many times, but the way Jon ket looking at Sansa, as if he was convinced if he blinked too slow she might disappear, did not make her hope very likely. If she left, he would follow Dany was certain: Jon had the very bad habit of not thinking very well when he was in his temper. 

Dany did not want to stop and think what was making him act this way. She would need her calm undamaged.

“We were.” 

“We suffered in Highgarden too. Many lives were lost,” Margery said her tone softening as it should when she mentioned the loss. “But as I heart it was nowhere near as bad as the crownlands.” 

“The rain was bad enough, but the tales were worse.” 

“Tales?” Garlan turned to look at Dany.  

“A monster was apparently seen prowling the streets through the storms.” 

“What kind of monster?” Jon pressed. 

“A mule's head on the body of a whore, men said,” Dany began. “One human arm, the other's an elephant's trunk. On its back, the bearded face of an old man. A tail like a neck, ending with a snake's head. Scaly limbs. It's left foot like a hoof, the right an eagle's talon.” 

“Well that certainly sounds horrific.” Garlan pointed out. 

“It sounds like a fiction born of exhaustion, anxiety and too much wine.” Tyrion countered. 

Dany could not help but agree. The whole thing sounded ridiculous in her mind. She remembered those rains. Even when the tall was light, the wind was such that one could hardly see five feet in front of one’s hand, let alone have vision sharp enough to tell what was a hoof and if arms were scaled. 

“All the same, people were afraid,” Dany remembered their cries, how every time the curtain of rain eased, you could hear them shouting from behind the gates. “They came up the hills crowding against the doors of the castle, seeking safety.” 

“There were those that believed the deluge was sent by the gods as punishment,” Tyrion reminded her. 

Margery frowned at him. “Punishment for what?” 

“Oh, the usual: corruption, decay,” Tyrion smirked. “High lords safe behind their walls on their hills while common folk wade through mud up to their arse and see their children washed away.” He turned to Sansa then, quite unexpectedly. “You are the true believer among us, lady Stark. Do you think it was divine punishment?”

When all the others looked at Sansa, Dany looked to Jon. His eyes were fixed. And even if the intent in his eyes had not been plain enough, Dany would have still known that it was not a need to appear well-mannered in public that made him wait for Sansa’s answer, because he’d always distained such things, choosing to be openly provocatory, instead of submitting to falsity.  

“I believe in the power of faith, of course. But I also believe in hope and charity. In welcoming people in, when they’re in need, sharing one’s fire with them and the food of one’s table. Assuaging the fears of those who are frightened.” 

Gena chuckled. “There are the words of a true devotee.” 

“Are they?” Jon was not smiling. “They sound more like Stark words to me.” 

He was looking at Sansa as if he could hear exactly what thoughts were turning in her head, which would have been a gift indeed since Sansa’s face was the picture of blank serenity, with nothing at all moving behind her eyes.

“How do you mean, your grace?” Margery asked, and if Dany did not know better she would have thought her suspicious.

“Sharing food, hearth and home is the only way to survive the deep winter.” Jon explained, looking to Margery one more. “When the snows fall fifteen feet deep, Wintertown, Barrowtown and White Harbour welcome the whole of the north. Most of the time supplies from Winterfell’s glass gardens are the difference between life and death for a great many people that are hungry and cold and scared.” 

“Of course;” Margery’s eyes fell on the jaws of the direwolf on Sansa’s bodice and a small smile curved up her lips. “Our Sansa is such a gentle soul, one could be forgiven for forgetting the fierceness of her forebears.” 

That was a bold-faced lie; no one forgot. It had simply been a long time since anyone cared for what it truly meant.  There were some ideas, Dany thought, that once formed, took root deep. And the main ideas that had shaped who Sansa was to the court, had been moulded by hands that were not present tonight. Though he needn't be for how well people kept dancing to his tunes.

“An understandable mistake, considering.” Tyrion said. Dany pinned him with a sharp look that he answered with his own crooked smile. 

“I do not know about that, my lord,” Margery insisted, looking at Sansa again. “While the lady is devoted to the seven, I am quite sure she prays to the old gods too, do you not Sansa? And I still remember how aggrieved she was to lose her little northern wolf, years back. Why, I believe she wore mourning clothes for months.” 

Dany felt her blood run cold.  

“Did you?” Jon’s question was direct, spoken as if he and Sansa were alone. 

“A child’s fancy, your grace,” Sansa dismissed.  

The scorn lingered in the coldness of his eyes. His little smile could not quite conceal it. “That so?” 

Margery laughed at Jon’s softly spoken words. She did not understand him. Dany felt as if she’d stepped back in time, playing in a piece of theatre complete with the tittering of the ladies around them. But this was not Viserys’ company – the similarities were shallow at best; one look at Jon’s face, one true look and it would be known. Dany could not understand how Margery did not sense the danger. She was usually so perceptive. But Jon was unknown to so many, deliberately so, his passions so often misunderstood. And he had turned his body towards Margery Tyrell for the first time since she tried to get his attention, leaned into her space a little bit, interested, intent. He had scented the lurking filth the way beasts scent blood and he was after it. Dany knew this because she knew him. And she knew none of these people, save perhaps Tyrion, understood what they were stepping into, because she also remembered how easy it had been, once, in this very court, among these same fine people, to get the attention and favour of another prince by practising the games that he’d best enjoyed. 

Perhaps Margery was trying to do that now, but it would go badly for her. That was Dany’s one consolation. Because though she might have understood something of Viserys, Margery Tyrell knew nothing of Jon and could not see… could not see the similarities were skin deep. She could not get the truth of it, because ideas, Dany reminded herself, had roots deeper than a hundred-year-old oak. 

“Why yes, your grace. It went well within summer. But despite everyone pleading for her to shed her mourning and enjoy the renewal of the season, our lady refused. Even at the urging of the high septon. She turned a blind eye and a deaf ear to all. The picture of wilfulness indeed.” 

There was no expected surprise on Jon’s face. Only a thin smile. “And how was she dissuaded?” 

Margery bit her lip, coy. “She was not. The late prince Viserys and Princess Daenerys had to cut her out of them.” She laughed as she said it. “Then all the princess ladies got together, and we dressed her fit for summer once more.” 

She said it as if it was a funny jape. And there were those who laughed. Even Sansa smiled, as if she could see the humour and was indulging a good friend with their shared history. But Tyrion’s eyes were searching his cup, his lips twisted in a sneer. Jeyne was looking at the floor and Shae looked fit to cut Margery Tyrell a red smile of her own. And Jon… 

Jon’s eyes met Dany’s with the force of a hammer. 

“Sounds like a grand time,” he spoke so softly, it was a wonder Dany heard it. But she did, and heard the words beneath the words as clear as a bell too. His eyes shone like polished steel. “I would have liked to be there and see it myself.” 

Margery shrieked. “Ser, you are wicked. There would have been nothing at all for you to see, since we stole the lady away the moment her ribbons were cut.” Margery turned to Sansa with a brilliant smile. “But it was such wicked fun. By the time we reached the princess’ rooms I remember we were crying with laughter.”

“So. My fair cousin was stubborn once, many years ago,” Jon finally said, “Is that the only fault to be laid at lady Stark’s feet?”

“Oh, yes. The only one,” Margery smiled at Sansa, who mirrored her expression. Though the warmth had drained from her cheeks and made her look bone white against the flickering of the candles, her expression remained calm and unbothered. “Which of course I can only admire.” 

“We all do, of course.” Genna added. “One cannot help it.” 

Dany saw Shae take a breath as if she was about to speak, saw Jeyne move to grasp her wrist. Jon was faster than them both.  

“Which reminds me, I owe you my thanks, cousin.” 

The words themselves were plain enough. It was in his face that you could see the truth of it, the blistering feeling that animated him. It took just a glance for Dany to know he was about to do something stupid. 

Sansa’s brows twitched together, the only manifestation of her confusion. 

“Had it not been for insistence and prudent council, matters in the Riverlands might have been resolved very differently. And I daresay, quite more violently.” 

“You’re too kind, your grace.” 

Even Daenerys heard it. Do not. 

Jon was deaf to it.   

“I’m not. In fact, I say it would be only fair to share the day with you,” Jon said as if the thought had just occurred to him and Dany never knew that praise could be spoken so angrily, but there she stood and she heard it same as everyone else did. 

“I would never presume-” 

“You’re not presuming anything, though, are you?” and Jon did smile then, a true smile, which Sansa looked away from. 

He put his cup down and plucked the wreath of golden laurels from his head. Dany realized what he meant to do the moment Sansa - and just about everyone else who had been paying attention - did. Sansa’s composure cracked, her surprise palpable in her wide eyes and slightly parted lips. Even the music had stopped. 

Dany could not breathe. He might as well have just declared his intention to have her, right there for all to hear, for how unmistakable his actions were.

What was he doing?

Two steps ate the distance between the two of them. Sansa seemed frozen into marble, she did not even seem to be breathing. Jon unpinned her veil with one hand, letting it flutter to the floor, and settled the wreath on her head carefully. It was a touch too big for her, but Sansa’s curls kept it from falling to her ears. 

A pocket of silence had formed around them. Dany could already see heads further away from their small circle, starting to turn. 

“A royal gift for a lady worthy of it,” he stepped back, the look on his face fond. “I give it freely, along with my gratitude.”

Dany looked around, marking the stunned expressions that surrounded them. Margery’s eyes had narrowed, her cousins were already whispering. Garlan alone seemed to be wearing the ghost of a smile, which Tyrion grinned at her. If some version of this moment did not burn through King’s Landing within the end of the day, Daenerys would eat her favorite dress. 

Finally, Dany could no longer hold back her miserable doubts. She let them wash over her and they gave her terrible pause. Could it possibly be true?

“Forgive me, your grace. Any words I know are too feeble to express my feelings in this moment.” Sansa said then, words barely above a whisper. 

That was probably very true, Dany thought as she watched Sansa’s chest heaving with short, fast breaths. Nerves, most would think. Overcome with emotion. But then again, most people had not spent so much time in Sansa Stark’s company and would not be able to read anger in the stiff line of her shoulders, in her downturned eyes, so fixedly staring at the ground for fear they would give her away.  

Dany did not think Jon was aware of it either, until she saw that a small frown had made its way between his brows. “No need for any, then.” 

Congratulations and questions started pouring in. Sansa fended them off graciously, modestly. And as she watched, Dany wondered how it must feel for her, to receive smiles and praises from some of the very same people that had laughed at her before, who had abandoned her when she had been in need. People who, dany felt sure, would have not hesitated to mock her even now if Jon had given the slightest hint that it would have amused him. 

She turned to look at Margery, who was very jovially saying something Dany only caught the tail end of. 

“Indeed, to hear Lady Stark tell it, she did nothing but keep company with the ladies the entire time.” 

Jon did not seem overly impressed. “She did that too.” 

Margery laughed, her discerning eyes going from one to the other. “Well, aren’t the two of you a puzzle.” 

“My cousin gives good advice and asks the right questions. There is nothing more to puzzle out.”  

“Of course, a lady always needs to be very discerning in her daily duties,” Margery said with a nod. 

Sansa caught Dany’s eye over their conversation. Finally, in the ensuing confusion, Dany saw her chance. 

“Discerning and beautiful and modest,” Dany said as she took a step and put herself in front of Sansa, offering her hand with a grin. “Will the lady gift me with a dance, so that I may bask in her graces some more?” 

Sansa put her hand in Daenerys’ outstretched one. “I would be honoured.” 

Margery gasped. “Oh but you cannot deprive us of Lady Stark so soon. She has not even begun her story.” 

“I can and I shall,” Dany said haughtily. “Like all dragons, I guard my treasures jealously.” 

It caused laughter, which had been Dany’s intent: distract with charm and get Sansa away. They did dance and when Shae approached and abruptly told Sansa that Yohn Royce and Harry Hardyign awaited her, Daenerys let her go. Sansa left so quickly, it was a wonder she did not run. And, as Dany watched, she noticed that it was not anywhere in the hall that Shae led her, but outside into the gardens. A lie then. Good. Dany calmed further when she saw that Jon had had the wisdom not to follow but was rather having a conversation with some of Stannis’ men. 

Daenerys turned away. She could not even look at him without her temper rising.   

“Aunt.”

Dany startled to hear Aegon’s voice so close behind her.  She jutted her arm backwards, causing Aegon to grunt. 

“Gods you have sharp elbows.”  

“How many times must I tell you not to startle me like that?” 

“Well, then you should make such funny noises when i do, should you?” 

He put a cup in her hands and came to stand by her side. “Did I mishear, or did my brother just crown Sansa Stark for something or other, with the very wreath of laurels the king gave him?”  

“You did not mishear.” 

Aegon blinked as if he struggled to understand. “You mean - he did that here?” 

“He did.” She said through gritted teeth. He ahd done precisely what she’d told him not to do.   

Aegon’s laughter was shocked and disbelieving both. “What can he mean by it?” 

Fucked if I know, Dany thought. Outwardly, she shrugged.

Aegon took a long drink from his cup, thinking it over.  “Do you think it’s true?” he asked finally, voice low, before he grinned at her. “That the dreaded black prince has finally fallen in love and forgotten you?”

Dany gave Aegon a scathing look. “Court gossip is ridiculous, and you must be drunker than you look to believe it.”

In truth, she did not know what to think. Ever since he’d come back, Jon had been a mystery. He’d never been easy to read by any means, but at least before he would share his mind with her. 

She might have believed him in love, if this was five years ago and his true smiles were not rarer now than snow was in Dorne. He had been slow to trust before too, but never slow to love. Indeed, once, when he was still a boy, love had come so easily to him, it still broke her heart to remember it. He used to give armfuls of it to anyone who showed him the smallest kindness. 

They’d both been such sad children. 

But they were children no longer, Dany reminded herself sternly. And much had changed since then. The Jon Dany knew now could never fall in love in little more than a month, with a woman he’d hardly met before. The more she thought of it, the less possible it sounded. And then… then strange thoughts began clouding her mind. And more and more they darkened her judgment. 

No, she would have answers from him, be it the last thing she ever had from him. 

and the new scene - the opening scene of the next chapter, after the fight in the red keep between lannister and stark men, for Shae.

i. ambush

Rhaenys rode her horse inside the courtyard at breakneck speed, her guards far behind her. When she saw him, she urged her mound in his direction, making slow circles around him as she paced her stallion down.  

“Half brother.” 

She sounded studiously bored, which meant someone had thinned her patience quite a bit. An interesting feat considering it as so early in the morning. 

“Dear sister.” 

Rhaenys made a face at him. “Where are you coming from?” She asked as she dismounted, handing the reins to one of the stable boys. 

“The market.” 

“You mean the brothels?” 

“If you like.” Jon said with a shrug. 

“You should have come to prayer. You need it.” 

They started walking towards the Red Keep together. “I don’t hold with the seven.” Though he found it hilarious that she pretended to.

“Might give the septons praying for your soul’s salvation a crumb or two.” 

“I don't hold with giving people false hope either.” Jon said then. “It happens to be the reason i don't hold to the seven.” 

“Yes, yes you're very clever.”   

“You find my wit tedious, I know.” Jon looked at her from the corner of his eye. “Just like I know you don’t believe in the seven either.” 

“I have recently changed my mind on that account.” 

Jon’s laugh was dry. “You want me to believe your stay with the Tyrells has made you pious? Even Willas cannot have that power.”

“One might argue,” Ser Arthur suggested calmly as he reached them, “That the fact the princess has yet to strangle any of her good-family - or you - might be proof of divine intervention.” 

“You make a good point, ser.” Jon conceded.  “Though I have always thought my half sister to be more practical than to attempt murder by strangulation.” 

“I am indeed - and clever enough not to need to murder people, when i can simply persuade them to obey.”

“I do not think threats and coercion count as persuasion.” 

“They do if you do it right.” 

“Unlike me, you mean.” 

They passed beneath archways of the great hall. “Well, if you feel the burn of my words, that is no fault of mine.” 

“Come Rhaenys, no need to be shy.” 

She scoffed and looked at him with derision form the corner of her eye. “I haven’t been shy a day in my life.”  

Oh she wanted everyone to believe that, but he remembered differently. Yet, Jon smiled anyway. “If you keep rolling your eyes that hard, they will roll right out of your head.” 

“Yes, Pycelle used to tell me the same thing.” Her grin was all teeth. “You must be so proud to match the wit of a man whose balls brush his knees.” 

“Great age allows for great wisdom.” 

“Do not hold out hope for that. No matter how much time it spends trying to, wisdom will never penetrate through your thick skull.” 

Finally Jon laughed. “You’re in fine form this morning.” 

“She’s been practicing with the high septon.” 

Jon looked at his half sister with great perplexion. “What for?” 

“Yes, that was a question I asked myself too, about five blinks into the conversation with the man. Gods he’s dull.” 

Jon stopped abruptly, an icy shiver running down his spine. The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stood on its ends, responding to a danger that was nowhere near him, and as real as the walls about him.

Ghost. 

Rhaenys turned back to look at him, perplexed. “What is it?” 

“I don’t know.” But his heart was already speeding up, legs carrying him forward. Sansa would have taken the garden path back to the castle, Jon thought as he started taking the entrance stairs in front of him two at a time. It was not so far from here. 

“Where are you going? What is it?” Rhaenys grew more angry with each unanswered question. "Is it mother?” 

When he heard the sounds of clashing steel, Jon started running. Arthur ordered the guards at the entrance with him. 

“Jon, don’t!” Arthur warned. Jon did not heed him.   

Arthur dry his blade and stopped at the entrance of the hall just as Jon did. “By the all thundering gods…”

The scene appeared to him all at once, all the details entering his mind in the space it took him to draw his sword. He surged forward, disarming the first redcloak he saw, blood running cold at the sight of Sansa on the ground, painted gruesome red on one side. 

Please… 

“What are you- Stop this madness in the name of your king!” Rhaenys’s shout echoed over the sounds of clashing steel but the fight was so fierce and so close, none could stop without risking their own skin. 

Jon saw his half sister unsheathe the dagger from her belt, sharp and long as her forearm. She slashed at the thigh of the first redcloak she reached, twisted his wrist to steal his sword. 

Jon kneed him away from her. “Stay back.”  

“Fuck off!” 

“Drop your swords or I will see you all hang for treason!” ser Arthur’s voice managed to draw attention, but it was too late. The stroke was already falling. The blade catching skin, his uncle brought to his knees. Sansa’s scream was terrible enough to draw blood from stone. 

Ghost jumped. They tasted the man’s blood. They howled in rage and pain when the arrow bit into their shoulder. It was that red rage that propelled him to move, a measure of all the small cuts that had demanded his restraint for weeks in this place, the pent up fury of having to smile in the face of those who had earned meeting his fists, until he had to walk here and find his own people bloodied broken and- 

With a howl he cut the archer’s throat so deep, he reached bone. He stalked the two men to his left, who had stopped fighting yet met his look with wide frightened eyes of their own. And thought Jon knew it was fear that made them raise their sword against him, he still threw himself at them, fighting both at the same time until he kicked one against the wall and took the head clean off the other one. He did not turn to see it land with a metallic clang a foot away. He parried the blow of the second soldier who had recuperated his breath enough to defend himself, twisted his arm out of the way and got in close enough to knee the other man in the balls. He doubled over, sword falling  from his hand. Jon kneed him again in the face, felt the metal nose-protection cut into his knee and then out of sheer anger kneed him again before slashing at his throat. He fell and Jon would have taken his head too, had not something slammed against his side hard enough to make him lose his footing. 

Jon did not mind the breath being driven from his lungs or the stinging of his ribs. He turned with a growl, and his steel met the milky white of Dawn as Arthur parried his blow, scowling.

“I said enough!” Arthur bit out, face close enough to his that Jon knew he was keeping himself from grabbing Jon by the hair and shaking him. 

Jon lowered his blade. There was no one left to kill anyway. 

Arthur pushed him aside, kneeling down to see to the man whose throat Jon had opened before looking up at him with severe accusation and distain. Jon met the knight’s accusing stare without shame or regret. Were it up to him, it would be Cersei Lannister’s throat he’d open next. 

The quiet that came after seemed to echo, punctuated with groans, and far-away cries that were coming closer with every moment. 

“Send for the maesters, now!” Rhaenys’ voice vibrated with anger. Her glare turned to Sansa and Cersei with equal fierceness. “And you. How dare you break the king’s peace in his own halls!” 

“That beast attacked me!” 

Jon gripped his sword again, spinning his blade and turning his body to better face the Lannister woman. She looked at him then, drawn by the motion, and eyed his sword and then his eyes, and Jon knew that she could see it clear as day that the blood of her men had not even begun to quench his thirst and it was her own he would see painting the stones red. She saw it clear and she hated it and it frightened her as much as her pride did not allow her to take a single step back from him.

Rhaenys’ lips pulled back from her teeth in her anger, as if she was ready to growl. “By the gods, woman, you will not lie to my face!” 

Jon moved away to crouch by his uncle. He was not awake, but heartbeat was strong. He  turned to Sansa then, tried to catch her by the shoulders, but she resisted, pressing down on Benjen’s leg with all her weight. He took hold of her arm.

“Sansa!” 

She would not turn. She did not even seem to hear. Jon ripped the clasp of her cloak so that he could better see the state of her; traced his hands through the red on her neck, her face and hair, smearing the blood away, looking for a wound and, mercifully, finding none. 

Of course. As his temper cooled and his fear eased he started thinking clearly again. That was arterial blood she was smeared with; too much for her to have spilled and lived. Of course. 

More voices surrounded them. The thundering footsteps of guards and servants. Jon looked to Shae, the cut on her forehead, along her hairline. Searched along her body to find others. 

“Are you wounded anywhere?” 

Shae shook her head.  

“Do you you feel dizzy, nauseous?” 

“No.” 

“My lady, let us take him.” 

Jon looked up to see Pycelle standing over them. There were servants running about already, people speaking in all directions. He could hear Rhaenys just behind him, Arthur giving orders. Ghost limped towards them, an arrow sticking out of his right side, just at the shoulder. 

Jon took hold of Sansa’s wrists. Her pulse was flying. 

“Let go,” Jon urged gently. “Sansa, let them take him.” 

There was a wildness in her eyes when she looked at him, her breaths sharp and shallow, only a thin ring of blue remaining in her eyes the rest eaten up by the black pupils blown wide with shock. She looked from him to the maester and to Benjen again, before she unhooked her fingers from the fabric of her cloak one by one, slowly. She stared at her bloodied hands as Jon moved her aside to let the master do his work. 

The guards moved Benjen onto a stretcher. 

“Will he live?” Jon asked. 

Pycelle hummed. Looked beneath the tourniquet Sansa and Shae handmade. “It is not so deep that he should die. The belt was clever. Whether he will ever walk as he did, remains to be seen.” 

The old man got to his feet with the help of his steward. He looked at Sansa up and down then. “And you, my lady? Are you hurt?” 

Sansa also rose to her feet slowly. Jon reached for her, expecting her to stumble, afraid that she might, but she did not. Her hand fluttered to her middle as she stood, but it was only a nervous gesture she seemed to push down.

“I am well, thank you."

“I will see to your lady, then.” 

“My lady stays with me.”  

She spoke so bluntly, Pycelle was taken aback. But when she held out her hand, Shae went to Sansa immediately and they linked fingers together so tight it turned their knuckles white. 

��Get to your work maester,” Jon ordered. “Lady Stark will see to her own woman.” 

“I do not advise-“

“Get to it.” Jon barked, so harshly Pycelle took a step back. Jon spared not a look to his mutterings. He urged Ghost to sit and be still, lest the arrow hurt him more, and leaned in to take a closer look at the wound. It had pierced him shallowly on the side, shaft going through the skin and poking out the other side. 

Jon took out his knife.  

“What are you doing?” 

He looked to Sansa, who had spoken the question. She sounded strange. Too calm. 

Jon laid a hand on Ghost’s flank. Urged him to stillnes.  “I will cut him and take the arrow out. It has caught him sideways, so it's not deep. It will hurt him less this way.” 

With a murmured apology to his friend, slashed the couple of inches that the arrow had pierced. Ghost yelped, then growled but did not snap at him nor did he move. He bled freely, but the arrow came away whole.

“That will need sewing.” 

“I’ve done it before.” Jon admitted, patting Ghost’s head. 

When he turned to see her, Sansa was pressing a hand chief at the cut on Shae’s head. Shae pressed it against her own skin and kept it there. Sansa whispered something to her that Jon did not catch, before casting her eyes around, lingering on the headless corpse that was being taken away, on the man without an arm whose bleeding one of Pycelle’s helpers was trying to stop. She did not flinch nor look away. At the centre of the storm of movement and sound of the aftermath, Sansa Stark was completely still and silent. Jon knew she must be in a state of shock, but when she finally met her eyes, there was terrible awareness there.  

“Where are my men?” 

“To the nearest room that will take them.”  

She blinked at him. “Were any of them dead?” 

“I do not think so.” He stopped one of the servants. “Post one of your boys with the maesters. Have him take news to lady Stark of her men’s condition.”

“Yes, your grace.” 

“Then go to the barracks and find officer Grenn of my personal guard. Tell him he is to make his unit ready and meet me in the courtyard as soon as he is able.” 

“Yes, your grace.” 

“Ser.” 

Sansa’s voice stopped the young man, his brown eyes glancing quickly to the blood smeared on her before they found her face again.  

“You will find Sandor Clegane in the barracks as well. Tell him that Lady Stark requires his presence, as a matter of urgency.” 

“Yes, my lady.” 

“I will not be spoken to as if I were some common wench!”

“You will answer the questions asked, madam!” Rhaenys ordered, hand gripped right around the hilt of her sword as if it was taking all her patience not to raise it. “Or i will relinquish the courtesy of asking them and have you arrested this very moment as a woman of blood.” 

Cersei Lannister took a step towards the princess. If that was meant to be a threat, it had little effect. Jon saw a muscle twitch on Rhaenys’ face at the Lannister woman’s nerve and met her advance with stillness and a raised chin that dared her to come any closer. The Lannister woman did not. 

“I was robbed and attacked. My men were slain in this very hall, yet the Stark girl and her whore are allowed to go free while I am threatened?” Cersei Lannister’s lip curled back in disgust. “Has this kingdom fallen into into tyranny? Does Rheagar’s law no longer govern, even under his own roof?”

“As I informed your ladyship before you set your men upon us,” Sansa said then voice void of any feeling and deeper than her usual sweetened tone. “Whatever your accusation, it is against the king’s law to throw a noble lady in the black cells.” 

“She is a foreign whore!” 

“Enough!” Rhaenys’ face was set in harsh lines, eyes glinting with barely suppressed anger. “You will both be confined to your rooms. No one may be permitted in or out and you will leave your confinement only at the king’s order, and none other.  Ser Arthur, I charge you with lady Lannister.” She handed the sword to a passing man, looking to Sansa. “I will escort lady Stark to her apartments myself.” 

“I demand justice, princess.” 

Rhaenys turned the full force of her disdain on the Lannister woman. “And I pray that you have it, my lady. But only when the king’s law gives it to you and not a moment sooner. And you will certainly not take it with your own savage hands.”

Ser Arthur stepped in front of Cersei. “After you, lady.” 

“You do not command me, knight.” 

Arthur remained impassive. “You can walk. Or be made to walk. I leave the choice to you.”

Cersei smiled, and it was an ugly thing. “I will have blood for this.”  

When she’d turned the corner, Rhaenys came to stand in front of Sansa. 

“I will take her.” Jon offered. 

“You will not.” 

“The king will have questions, princess.” Jon insisted. “You are better equipped to answer them than I.” 

Rhaenys clenched her teeth. “Yes indeed, I am the one better equipped to explain to the king why you beheaded two men in his halls and opened the throat of a third when you could have easily disarmed them.” 

“I will arrange a guard and keep the post until the kingsguard arrives.” Jon went on in the face of her anger. He leaned in close to his half sister and lowered his voice a fraction. “Let me do what I am meant to do. You alert the king, before he hears half a dozen false accounts of what happened here.” 

“I do not know what happened here.” Rhaenys said through gritted teeth. She caught sight of something over his shoulder then and Jon did not have to turn to know she was looking at Sansa mostly because he knew she was just behind him, but also because of how his half sister’s downturned mouth twisted into a scowl. When she looked back to Jon her eyes were alight with renewed anger. Her words were a low hiss. “Keep her to her rooms and have her maids clean her. I will not have her appearing before the king like some slaughtered lamb.” 

Jon mirrored her expression. “And why would that displease you?” 

“Fuck you. There is no need for more of a spectacle. The carnage you left here will set the whole of king’s landing ablaze.” 

“You think i give a fuck about any of it?”

Jon towered over his half sister, yet she did not seem to see or sense the difference of their sizes when she met his outrage with her own. Jon opened his mouth but Sansa spoke sooner, drawing the attention of both dragons to her and away from each other. 

“If it please you, your grace, princess, I am ready to retire.”

--

so that is it. the action scene is choppy cause i havent edite yet, but that is where its going. this was a very long way of saying, i AM working on it, and very much want to finish it. its just been slow because ive gone back and edited so much.

thank you for still caring and for asking.

[saintobio]

i always love the way you write, it really shows how much effort you put in your writing. and to add i also like the way you base it on reality and research about it. the way your fiction shows so much emotions that it also effects the reader, truly means that your work is outstanding. and the longer it takes you to upload a new fiction to your blog shows how much effort you put into it. i hope you rest well because you deserve it! ٩(˃̶͈̀௰˂̶͈́)و - 🦭

Anonymous said

heyyy, how you're doing?! I'm new here and I need to tell you that I'm OBSSESSED with your work — your histories are SOOOO ADDICTIVE, you've got an amazing way with the words, like, really, I'm complettely astounished by the way you just put everything together with such tell those amazing stories, making me feel every single thing, it's just— I'm literally out of words. I'm so thankfuk that I found your work, it brings me literal JOY to read everything you write,,,,,,, although I end up crying..... several times...... (but I love it, somehow, don't worry). Sooo, I wanted to ask you something, and I don't know if you've ever recieved an question like this before: how would things go if Gojo wasn't in a relationship with Sera? He'd fall for Y/N? Would things workout?

(Also, sorry if ponctuation and grammar feel kinda off, english is not my first language and, sometimes, it's still a struggle for me!!! :D)

Love your work BYEEEE

Anonymous said

please, your writings are sooo out of this world 😭

I remember preparing my heart and sanity to read "wastelands" after a few months before binge reading it (that time the series was still ongoing), I'm already in pain just by looking at the summary and I'm in absolute pain

Currently reading "underground fight club" hoho, your series are *chef's kiss*

Now, I'm preparing myself again to binge read the "sincerely not" series :') THANK YOU FOR the pain YOUR SERVICE! You're such a great writer!

@atsumusoup said

Hiiiii I just wanna say I love sincerely not so much it broke my heart but in a good yet unsettling yet amazing way 😭 thanks so much for all your hard work and although I don’t interact as much anymore watching your blog grow from remember forever to now it’s insane! I binge read the last four chapters of after my midterms and cried so harddddd

Your work literally sends me on rollercoasters and I get so excited to read them 🤩 can’t wait to see what u have I store next! Take care b! 💜

Anonymous said

Saint can I just tell you how much i love your series n the small details that you have put in? Because of you i realized that i have a birkins bag (it was given to me by my mother's boss 😫) and even so your story gave me motivation to learn more abt the business industry? Even the fashion industry also because that's how impactful your story is to me 😂 its funny because when you read sn you're not only reading you're learning too! so i admire your efforts in learning more abt this assigned field or topic even though you have had a hard time in this fic because everything came out well in the end and your dedication for this fic is unlike any others you're an author i aspire to be thank you very much love!! ❤❤

@captainchrisstan said

Saint, great chapter! Im so happy that i was in this adventure with you! What a rollercoaster! ❤️😭😭😭 cant wait 🥰

Anonymous said

me already crying b4 reading:

Saint, thank you for being such a genious and writing this masterpiece.

When I stumbled upon this fanfiction, I was crying and feeling like shit, thinking abt su*cide. I started to read thinking it would be one of those stories that s/n would be like those fragile FL, but I was wrong. Your main character was so original, never expected such a complex personality and how it's similar to reality, where people are like shades of grade, never only white or black.

I was so interested in this story that it became my motivation to continue living because it was one of the only things that would make my day. Your fanfiction saved me.

Thank you,

- ♤

i love love looove every single one of u !! thank you for loving sn and for looking forward to sy <33 all the happiness and pain we’ve shared bc of this series made me feel so connected with u guys aaaaa 🥺 i’m genuinely so grateful for the support and have been reading these messages for the past few weeks. i’m sorry it took me awhile to get back to all of u !!

[cutemeat]

no you’re so right for that, op was honestly being rude and probably didn’t expect you to see it (altho i see that they did tag it as sunny so maybe they just don’t care). when i started out, the ppl of this fandom have always been so unapologetically vocal abt their theories and interpretations, and it was so welcoming to me to see that everyone was having fun rambling into the void, knowing that we care enough abt each others’ ideas that even if we don’t always agree, we Get it. like that’s what sunnblr is for, pardon the brainrot but it comes with the territory. you were one of my first (and also only lol) sunny mutuals and i know for a fact i didn’t used to share my thoughts the way i do now before following ppl like you. PLEASE keep rambling, it is good for the soul

thank u Danny!! 🐀💘

it means a lot more to me that I have had that kind of impact where anyone feels more unapologetic n enthusiastic abt talking abt their interests n interpretations n theories! cuz I care so deeply abt that n think (esp cuz this is a space all about enthusiasm n hobbies) it is so fun to hav a place where ppl can do that!! (obv we should be mindful depending on subject matter, but just general rambling abt shit is, as u said, good for the soul 😌😌) U are also just such a creative person n i rlly admire yr style n yr skill u are just so thoughtful and intelligent so u Should be so loud n proud abt those things!! u are such a treasure n ily!!

I hold no grudge against op, cuz i do recognize this kind of thing is just apart of a larger pattern I’ve seen forever since using the internet where a lot of the internet likes to preach abt de-stigmatization n mental health awareness… but unfortunately the internet doesn’t rlly create platforms that are conducive to actually keeping that kind of thing in mind and practicing it effectively. ik that most times (since this is a problem that started in the real world n sure as hell hasnt been solved any better lmao), that unless you are just experiencing palatable symptoms like depression or anxiety… u are opening yrself up to that kind of thing, n i know that just comes with the territory of being mentally ill and havin any public account. im sure its even somewhere in the fine print of the terms n conditions that no one ever reads LOL. i try to brush it off, but it is still hurtful sometimes and so that’s why I left that reply to just explain where i’m coming from and why i left those tags in the first place. cuz again they dont know me and idk them so its not anything personal! but again ik thats sorta the game u play when u post anything yknow? like for all anonymity’s benefits, there are cons like ppl don’t Know i experience manic type symptoms or fixate excessively if they dont know me or follow me, esp when i don’t leave that stuff in my bio anymore or always post abt it so they Don’t Know. and it’s just generally very prevalent to see someone saying Wild Shit n immediately be like ‘wtf?’ n post it without rlly giving it much thought. I mean, I’ve probably done that before myself w/o rlly giving a second thought to what I was doing 😭. so I try not to take it too personally n hope ppl will be sympathetic if they do see the other person’s side of things, at least!

But again I do rlly appreciate u sending this cuz it was still very reassuring and again im rlly happy u feel more inclined to share ur thoughts after following me cuz again u are so thoughtful n passionate n i still love reading ur posts n seeing ur art abt anything u are interested in even when its not Sunny stuff, theres always so much detail in everything u do its incredible! 💖 and dont worry abt me cuz i def dont plan on stopping the rambling myself anytime soon BSJDBDJ

[what-the-stories-have-foretold]

Hey there! 😃💐🍫

I recently read a fanfiction (post organization showdown) regarding kaito and conan (after confessing their real identity to furuya) getting recruited by zero for psb. Initially during the contract signing it seemed that they would both be in same ranks as trainees under Furuya. But when actual work started i realised that Conan was getting trained to be an agent who will be filling in Furuya's rank in future, while kaito is getting trained to be a collaborator (which kaito does realise to be a pawn role). Not only that, Furuya made shinichi his "handler" when shinichi himself was a trainee.

Although kaito was pretty much accepting of this and infact happy with it, I am absolutely not able to digest it😭.

I kind of already imagined it that Kaito wanted to become a police officer since childhood, yet his kid circumstances made him bury that dream. Now that Furuya had given him an opportunity he finally got hopes that he could become an agent just like zero. He had started to admire Rei as an idol. That is precisely the reason why he accepted the contact in the first place. But now what he has to face everyday is absolute minimum interaction with Rei (while shinichi gets to meet and directly work under rei as Rei's personal trainee), never getting direct orders from Rei instead getting them though shinichi, conan getting all the credits for any cases they solved together, conan being introduced to all other agents him being the sidekick of conan, and when conan is in trouble Rei contacting him just to know the welfare of conan (since kaito and conan are still best friends inspite of kaito being jealous of conan because of rei) etc. Kaito knows it that he's equally talented and skilled as conan, even better than conan when it comes to all works other than detective ones like spying, reading people, etc etc list goes on. Yet he's not given equal importance or respect just because of his criminal background.

When kazami informed him that his best friend Conan is getting trained to eventually succeed Rei, that was his breaking point (my breaking point to be honest 😅). He couldn't take it anymore and Furuya seemed to be completely unaware of his inner turmoil. 😭😭😭.

I really want a happy ending but I'm completely unable to image a happy ending.

Could you please write a oneshot on how will Rei understand kaitos feelings and they have an happy ending...

Ps. And i promise i tried to shorten the length of this ask but i don't know how to😔😔.

And im very sad about this kaito being conan's collaborator thing. Just imagine, he has always been a topper in studies, sports and every damn thing anyone can image, yet he's asked to be even lower than a trainee officer forever. Like come-on, everyone knows it how skilled and valueable he is. I empathized so much with kaito that my feelings got hurt instead of his🙈🙈 when will Rei understand this situation 😭😭😭

Hey 😊

It sounds like such a good fanfiction. (I agree, Kaito is probably more fit, or at least equally fit to be a successor. Also, in the manga, I've never understood everyone's hate for him? Because as far as I remember he always returns the stolen good to the people it actually belongs to, doesn't he? Or am I confusing stuff right now? 😅) Do send the name of the writer! (Though I don't know how I feel about getting my emotions wrecked like that while reading).

Unfortunetly, I do not feel comfortable writing essentially a second part of someone else's work though - especially without their direct approval. However, again, I'd love to read the work if you want to let me (and possibly other ppl here) know its name. 🥰

[stairsbro69]

Hey same here. I figured if I'm gonna reblog... way too many fanart, then i might as well have it all in one place and also not bother others 🤷🏻‍♀️ so its all good.

To add a read more you write [[/MORE/]]

but without the slashes.

I only really know of one somewhat important detail that hs2 contradicts the epilgoues in. Loooong story short, Jake and Jane get married (insert emotion between meh and bleh) and Jake leaves her and hangs with John for a while. In the epilogue, it says she sent divorce papers in the mail, but in hs2 that never happened and she has no idea he wants to leave her. There's probably other little details that conflict but thats the big one. I don't really know what the authors have been saying about stuff though. I haven't really been paying attention to them. I know theres been some drama but i dont really know any details.

I do agree that the fandom is very fighty recently. And honestly the worst part about EP/HS2 isn't the content itself, but how it managed to tear apart a pretty strong fandom. Like yeah we were a little cringy in 2012 but we were cringy TOGETHER! and even after it ended and people were a bit disappointed, things were still civil and we'd pop up with a "happy 413/612/1025/ WE LIVE!!!" every so often. And i especially miss the fun theories! And the race to draw certain panels or characters first! But now people just... dont. People like to edit/redraw the davekat kiss or make other characters "ultimate" but thats about it. I really do miss the fun cringy fandom we used to be sometimes 😭.

Also, there WERE some pretty heated debates. Mostly involving shipping or Vriska...

I think I first heard of HS around the time of Cascade, but didn't start reading until Christmas. I think it was Christmas day even. And the page I got caught up on was "Ball: Drop" on New Years. I'm honestly not sure why I remember all that but I guess that's just how important it was to me. Im gettin all sentimental over here 😭

I agree with your take on Cascade. It was damn good and you make very good points. But I would like to add one of my other favorite flashes, Game Over, to this discussion. Cascade had deaths but it still felt triumphant and the deaths/resurrections didn't feel cheap, like you said. Game Over, on the other hand.... ended with almost every single character straight up dying. But it was still really good and even though everyone was dead, it still felt like Homestuck. Everyone knew the characters probably wouldn't stay dead forever. And there was a massive gap right afterwards too, so there was plenty of time for speculation. (And time for me to dip out of the fandom except for 3 days a year)

It also resulted in a massive un-dying and retconning of timeline stuff which... I personally didn't care for but I'm probably in the minority on that one.

I'll be honest there was a point near the end of act 6 where I was kinda not very into HS anymore and the pettiness and drama between the alpha kids was all I really cared about. Still sad some of the issues were dealt with off screen though.

Wow, Fruits Basket really does sound like something I'd like! When I was first getting into anime, I think I wrote it off because "bluh bluh dont want no cheesy romance anime" but it actually sounds good! I'll have to check it out thanks for the suggestion lol. Should I watch the old anime adaptation or the new one? Does it matter?

Side note: I watched a reenactment of the Detective Pony fanfic. If you haven't read/watched it I highly recommend. EP/HS2 is suspiciously similar and DP is basically the thing i wanted when it comes to weird meta fiction and narrative control while being light hearted and dumb. 10/10 whoever wrote that

it is time.

I want to compile a more complete rundown of my thoughts about homestuck 2. I want all the stuff in my head to be in one place, and I know this is going to be incredibly long winded and I don’t care. I want to be honest… I want to understand why I don’t like this media. on more than a “but of course” level because there are a lot of people who have it as a gut reaction that this stuff isn’t right. but I think there are layers to what produces that. I wanna get in depth with this. so that’s what I’m gonna attempt to do.

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