#not yet sy canon

[saintobio]

what’s wrong with gojo sachiro?

a sincerely yours drabble. ep.04. part of the sy side stories. cw—mentions of cheating, infidelity, toxic relationships, trauma.

thinking about teenage!sachiro reading about the things dad did to mom when they were still married, and he’s absolutely gutted. he didn’t know mom suffered that much from dad because no one had ever mentioned it to him. although he’d overheard aunt gen alluding to ‘an issue from the past’ many times before, sachi never thought that the situation was that serious.

and the only way he even found out was after curiously stumbling through a subreddit post.

r/RichPeopleProblems [6 days ago]

Scandal in High Society: Satoru Gojou’s Shocking Infidelity!

[Discussion] Back in the day, there was a huge scandal involving Satoru Gojou, now Chairman of the Gojou Group, and his affair with his secretary. The story was everywhere, and it almost led to a major shake-up in the corporate world. Does anyone else remember this? How did his wife cope with all that mess?

[comments]

CorporateInsider: I remember that! It was all over Twitter! LOL. His wife was a major heiress too, and there were rumors she was going to file for divorce but eventually decided against it.

GossipGuru123: If I recall correctly, his wife also wanted to get an a/bor/tion because she didn’t want to be tied with him anymore. Their poor child!

“sachi?”

as soon as he had heard his dad’s voice, sachiro shut his laptop down and wiped the faint tears on his eyes. “yes, dad?”

satoru appeared by his door, utterly oblivious to a past controversy his son had just come across. “you wanna play polo today?”

“no, thanks.” the teenage son looked away with a sigh before flopping down his bed. he was feeling all sulky, and he doesn’t really know how to deal with his father right now.

while that father in question, on the other hand, was surprised at the unusual mood of his son. is this his rebellious stage? he mused.

“everything okay, buddy?” satoru asked, now leaning on his side against the doorframe. “you said you wanted to play when i have free time.”

the younger gojou rolled his eyes and buried his face with a pillow. “well, i clearly don’t want to anymore,” he bit back in exasperation, “just get out, dad.”

satoru wasn’t sure if his son was going through a heartbreak or if he’s just generally moody today, but he could tell something was off and he was becoming increasingly worried. sachiro had never rejected their weekly father-son dates before, so there was certainly a reason behind that dismissive attitude.

and satoru recognized that very well, because his son got it from him.

“did i do something wrong?” asked satoru, “you can always tell dad.”

sachiro, after some contemplation, finally caved in by swinging the pillow out of his face to sit up and look at his current enemy. his storm blue eyes were of the same exact hues as his father’s. “why did you cheat on my mom?”

dear lord, satoru thought as his he held his breath in front of an angry son. the day has finally come.

[cintiri]

I've read like all 4 docs on ao3 about SY and SJ sharing a body, and I'm soooo not normal about this concept oh my God. So, it's time to ramble about my take on the concept, of course.

Most things I have read have SY transmigrate at his usual date, but... What if he didn't? What if he transmigrated when SJ was a child on the streets?

For the purposes of this, the person who has the most control of the body is based around soul strength, willpower, and collaboration between souls.

In the beginning, SY has very low soul strength, since he just straight up died, but being a child, SJ's is not much better. They both have obscene amounts of willpower, see canon. And at the beginning? Oh, SJ does NOT want to collaborate.

SY hasn't really gotten the whole "baby scum villain" thing yet, and thinks his soul has been glued to a particularly annoying street kid, so he tries to be patient with SJ, but it's not easy! Holy shit, this kid is a turbo brat who hates him! He is constantly threatening to exorcize SY! Like, kid, you can't exorcize me, you're eight. But SY does end up being useful at times, pointing out danger, reading signs that SJ can't, using his adult knowledge to help him as best he can. By the time they get to the Qiu manor, SJ grudgingly trusts and is maybe attached to his weird ghost hanger-on.

And then the Qiu manor hits. It's... Bad. Really bad. Qi-Ge is gone, hopefully to come back to them someday, but someday is not now, and they need to survive the day. Shen Yuan can't get over the fact that this is just a kid, that all of this is happening to a child. He is an adult, maybe he's not the most responsible adult, or the best person to handle this situation, but damn it SY has to do something.

The first time Shen Yuan takes over completely, it's during a beating in the first week. Before, even if SY had some control of the body, SJ was usually able to yank it back at least partially when he wanted to. He was aware of what was going on. But this time, Shen Jiu feels the first few strikes hit his back before Shen Yuan bubbles up, wrapping around him and pulling him down into blissful oblivion.

When Shen Jiu wakes up, it's over, and Shen Yuan is using some meager supplies he got from god knows where to tend to their wounds. Shen Jiu is scared, he didn't know Shen Yuan could take over that completely, but he's also... Relieved. And confused.

"Why did you take over then? If you really could steal my body, why didn't you do it earlier?"

"You didn't deserve that, Shen Jiu. I- how could I see that and not try and help? Not try and protect you?"

Shen Jiu froze. And then, slowly, started crying. Almost immediately SY starts fussing, asking if their wounds hurt too badly, if he needs him to dull the pain more. SJ sniffles, wiping his eyes, and asks; "More?"

Shen Yuan never explains that, but as SJ goes through the Qiu manor, he realizes that he is absolutely not in as much pain as he really should be. It's easier to bear when the pain is shared between the two of them.

The first time that Qiu Jianluo realizes something is off is during one of his lessons. As the brush is placed in Shen Jiu's hands, the angry, venomous child behind a mask of fear fades away, and he is instead facing calm indifference. The characters are perfect, every one of them, even the ones which there is no possible way Shen Jiu should have been able to know.

This pattern continues. Shen Jiu knows things he shouldn't. He is abnormally good at talking circles around guards and other servants, confusing and manipulating them enough to evade Qiu Jianluos summons in ways that couldn't possibly be his fault, orchestrating many of their confrontations with Qiu Haitang around as protection.

Shen Jiu is a good actor, he's smart, he's quick, but he isn't a fully grown adult master poser like our Shen Yuan is. Shen Yuan, number one rules lawyer and actor, is incredibly good at driving Qiu Jianluo up the wall without him being able to retaliate, and when he does manage to get in a beating, SJ/SY is not nearly as responsive to the pain as he should be, and heals faster than he should.

This is because the lovely new flowers that Qiu Haitang has planted in the garden at SJs kind suggestion are a PIDW plant that provides accelerated healing.

Eventually, it's too much, and Qiu Jianluo KNOWS something is up. He calls a rogue cultivator by the name of Wu Yanzi in to investigate the problem, and Wu Yanzi finds, and exorcises it. Shen Jiu is terrified and panicked, and Wu Yanzi, who had seen Shen Jiu's high spiritual potential, places Shen Yuan into a spirit trapping pouch and tells Shen Jiu to burn the Qiu manor to the ground and bring him as much money and jewelry as possible if he wants his little ghost back.

So the Qiu Manor burns, and Shen Jiu joins Wu Yanzi, significantly less willingly this time. Qi-Ge is nowhere to be seen, and Shen Yuan isn't there to save him anymore.

Shen Jiu supposes he will have to save himself.

[downbad4sylus]

“You kept your name”

(part 2 to “I killed you”)

synopsis: You and Sylus take a ride to an eerily familiar field of flowers on the outskirts of the N109 Zone.

content: sylus x afab!reader; reader is MC; use of Y/N; soft!sylus; pre-relationshipish; cameo from the twins; smol angst; tooth-rotting fluff; kissing; possibly canon divergence (i make shit up about present-day sylus since we don’t have all the answers yet); mostly proofread

word count: ~3k (whoops)

tags: @evilldentists; @midiplier; @chillycheem

a/n: incredibly grateful for all the love for the first part so hope you all enjoy the second part just as much!!! anyone interested in a nsfw special part 3 >>;;;)))))

You had a much easier time falling back to sleep than you thought you would. Perhaps the exhaustion of reliving your past coupled with a weight you didn’t even realize you’d had finally being lifted off your shoulders.

When morning came, you woke again nestled in the same position you’d fallen asleep in, head resting on Sylus’s chest listening to his unusually rapid heartbeat. Though now, you supposed, it wasn’t quite so unusual.

You lifted your head and found Sylus still asleep. It was rare for you to wake before him, and you always took the time to admire his sleeping face. Carefully, you ghosted a finger toward his face, intent on lightly tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the shape of his lips—

Sylus’s hand snatched your wrist. “Having fun?” he drawled, not even opening his eyes.

“You ruined my fun before I could start,” you whined, sticking out your bottom lip.

Sylus chuckled and laced his fingers through yours. “Surely you’ll forgive me, won’t you?”

“I guess,” you muttered.

“How generous.”

You propped yourself up by your forearm as Sylus finally opened his eyes to meet your own. “Are you sure it’s okay we go? I know you don’t like being out during the day.”

He brought your linked hands to his face, twisting them to brush his lips along the back of yours. “I’ll be fine,” he assured. “It’s supposed to be overcast today anyway.”

“Okay, as long as you’re sure.”

“I always am with you, sweetie.”

Your heart squeezed. Such an innocuous statement yet it held profound meaning.

Sylus sucked in a deep breath. “Let me at least make us breakfast first before we go.”

You perked up. You loved it when Sylus cooked for you. “Do I get to sit at the island and watch?”

He chuckled. “Of course.”

Hardly able to contain your excitement, you leapt out of bed, dragging Sylus along with you out of the bedroom, into the hallway, all the way to the kitchen. You didn’t even give the man a chance to put on pants.

Rather than sitting at the island, as it was much too far away from him, you perched on the counter beside the stove, watching Sylus expertly cook two perfect omelets. Once they were plated, you both sat at the island, so close your thighs were touching. Before you could pick up your fork and knife, however, Sylus had already cut a piece of his omelet and was holding it in front of your face.

“Open,” he commanded.

You obeyed, cheeks heating as you opened your mouth and he placed the bite on your tongue.

“Now close,” he purred, sliding the fork from your lips, eyes trained intently on yours. “Good kitten.”

Trying very hard not to choke, you chewed the savory bite, moaning at how good it was. Sylus’s lips twitched in smug satisfaction.

“It’s so good, Sy,” you said after you swallowed, already digging in to the omelet on your own plate.

“Only the best for you, sweetie,” Sylus quipped, taking a bite himself.

Sylus insisted on feeding you once he scarfed down his omelet faster than you could keep track of. You protested at first, saying you weren’t a child, but when he pinched your chin and drawled in that deep, silky voice of his “You’ll be a good kitten for me, won’t you?” you folded instantly.

Cheeks as red as his eyes, you let Sylus start feeding you the remaining half of your omelet, losing yourself in the intimate moment—

“Boss? Miss Hunter?”

Your head whipped to the side before you could take the bite Sylus offered, eyes going wide when you found Luke and Kieran standing at the edge of the kitchen. Even with their masks on, you knew they had shit-eating grins on their faces.

“Uh, hi…guys,” you muttered, swiveling on the stool, giving them your back, too embarrassed to face them.

“Were we interrupting something?” Kieran asked.

Sylus placed a hand on your thigh, thumb rubbing soothingly. “Just breakfast,” he stated simply.

“Why are you having breakfast, Boss?” Luke asked. “You aren’t usually awake at this time.”

“Y/N and I are going on an impromptu trip today, which means you’re both in charge while I’m gone.” His voice took a bit of a sharp edge as he said, “I don’t want to be bothered.”

“Of course, Boss,” said Luke.

“You can count on us!” finished Kieran.

Sylus hummed in approval, squeezing your thigh. You looked over at him and was surprised that he was holding another piece of omelet for you to eat.

“Sylus,” you hissed, eyes darting over to where the twins now stood across the island. Did this man have no shame?

He tilted his head. “What’s the matter, sweetie?” he asked teasingly. “Not hungry anymore?”

“Can we have the rest of your omelet, Miss Hunter?”

You turned again, now looking at the twins. The thought of having them witness Sylus feeding you was enough to make you lose what was left of your appetite.

You snatched the fork from Sylus’s hand, threw it onto the plate, and pushed it toward the twins. “Knock yourselves out.”

They cheered their thanks and immediately dug in, lifting their masks only enough so they could shovel fork fulls into their mouths. You ignored Sylus’s frown and instead grabbed his wrist, leading him from the kitchen back to his bedroom.

Around a half hour later, you and Sylus had changed (the man had a closet full of clothes just for you, obviously) and were making your way to his bike.

Staring at the sleek motorcycle, you wondered idly if Sylus preferred riding to driving because it reminded him of flying. You’d ridden on the back of his bike enough times to know he frequently ignored speed limits and you’d even caught him a few times without a helmet. You weren’t sure if the half-crazed lecture you’d given him about not caring about his safety actually got through to him, but Sylus made sure to have a helmet on every time you saw him after that. Not that it mattered, only you could kill him anyway, but that didn’t mean you wanted him to get injured.

Knuckles rapping softly on your forehead tore you from your thoughts.

“Did I lose you, kitten?” Sylus asked with a smirk.

“Sorry,” you breathed. “I was just…thinking.”

His head tilted. “About what?”

You gnawed at your bottom lip, unsure whether to share said thoughts with him.

Sylus pressed his thumb against your lip, tugging it free from your teeth. “Don’t bite your lip,” he murmured. “Tell me what you were thinking.”

“I was wondering if you like riding your bike because it reminds you of flying.”

His brows twitched closer, his lips teasing a frown. You instantly regretted what you’d confessed, the last thing you wanted was to upset him.

“I’m not upset,” he said, easily reading your facial expression. “Just a bit caught off guard.”

“Why?”

“Because you only just remembered our past and you’ve already figured me out.”

You thought back to the puzzle pieces that had been put in place after you’d woken from your memories, how easy it was to understand the Sylus before you now and how his actions reflected the Sylus you’d known then.

You smiled. “I feel like it’s less impressive when you’ve had an advantage over me this whole time,” you protested jokingly. “You figured me out pretty quick, too.”

Sylus chuckled. “I guess that makes us even then.” He reached behind him, grabbing the helmet he’d gotten for you (yes, it had cat ears), and hooked a finger under your chin, tilting it up. “You ready?”

“Yes,” you answered firmly.

He placed the helmet over your head, buckling the strap beneath your chin, and gave it a soft tap when he was finished. He then put on his own helmet before swinging his long leg over the seat, gesturing for you to join behind him.

Seated on the bike, arms wrapped securely around Sylus’s waist, he took off onto the streets of the N109. Your surroundings blurred as he weaved his way through the zone, heading toward the outskirts.

Closing your eyes, you imagined you were on his back while he flew you through the sky. It was freeing, affording you a newfound appreciation for rides with Sylus. Perhaps now they could be reminiscent of the past for the both of you, not just him.

It didn’t take long before the N109 Zone faded into the background, Sylus now riding down a long stretch of road with open fields on either side. There were no flowers though, so you wondered where, exactly, he was taking you.

Your destination became clear however, when a shock of red greeted you on either side of the road.

Sylus slowed the bike to a halt, kicking down the stand and cutting the engine. As he took off his helmet, you remained still, looking out at the field of red flowers that was just like the one in your shared dream. How was this possible? Was it merely a coincidence that these fields existed in this lifetime too?

Your helmet being unbuckled and lifted off your head broke you from your stupor and you found Sylus standing in front of you, waiting patiently with a hand outstretched. You took it, letting him support you as you climbed off the bike. He laced your fingers together once both your feet were on solid ground, and led you forward, into the flowers.

It was surreal, walking through the field beside Sylus. It felt like two worlds colliding, past and present melding together. It made your heart flutter with excitement knowing that this time would be different. This time you’d be damned if you didn’t get your happy ending.

Sylus stopped abruptly, giving you no warning before plopping onto the ground, dragging you down with him. You squealed as you fell into his lap, giggling as he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in the crook of your neck.

The first time Sylus found this field of flowers, no different from the one outside of Tarus City, he’d nearly been brought to his knees. He wasn’t one to believe in signs but this one felt undeniable, too much of a coincidence to not mean something. It was before you’d officially met, but it gave him an unfounded confidence that once you did, he’d have his beloved again. He’d promised himself then that he wouldn’t come back here unless it was with you, and now, he’d fulfilled that promise.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you said, threading your fingers through Sylus’s soft hair.

He hummed, the noise vibrating against your skin. He placed a single, chaste kiss on your pulse point before pulling away and meeting your gaze. “Ask your questions,” he said gently.

You pursed your lips as you decided where to start. “Are you still a dragon?”

Sylus huffed, amused. “Well,” he began, sucking in a breath, “yes and no.”

You raised a brow in silent command for him to continue.

“I’m more human than I am dragon now, but not fully either,” he said.

That certainly explained the strange comments he would make every so often.

“Do you still have wings?”

He nodded.

“Horns?”

Another nod.

“Tail?”

“Yes, kitten, all three.”

You looked at his head, thinking if you stared hard enough, his horns would appear. “But…where are they?”

“Hidden away by my Evol,” Sylus answered. “It takes a lot of energy to do so.”

“Is that why the sunlight bothers you? Is it easier to keep them hidden during the night?”

Sylus smirked. “Clever kitten,” he said, all the confirmation you needed. “What else?”

“Can I see them?” you blurted.

His brows rose in surprise. “Not right now.” When you pouted, he added, “Some other time, when we’re in private.”

“Fine,” you relented. You glanced down at where his arms encircled your waist and slid a hand over one of his. “The linkage is my doing.”

“That’s not a question,” Sylus teased.

“I know,” you said. “Just wanted to get it out in the open, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“When did you realize it was my curse?” you asked instead.

“The first time,” he said simply.

You snorted. “Of course you did.” You lifted your head to meet his striking red eyes. “Is there anything you’re bad at?”

Sylus barked a laugh, causing your heart rate to increase. “I’m sure there’s a few, but I haven’t figured out any of them yet.”

“Ugh, your arrogance is immeasurable sometimes.”

But you still love me, was what Sylus wanted to say, but settled on, “What other questions do you have for me?”

A thought occurred to you suddenly and you sat up straighter in his lap, brows drawing together. “Did you make me shoot you to see if I actually wanted you dead?”

The bastard grinned. “Maybe.”

You slapped his shoulder. “Sylus!”

He was laughing, but damn it did you love to hear him laugh. “I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

You shook your head. “You’re insane, that’s what you are.”

“An important trait needed for the leader of Onychinus, something you haven’t shied away from.”

“Guess I’m a bit insane as well,” you muttered.

“Guess so,” Sylus agreed, smiling.

You softened, unable to stay annoyed with him when he looked at you with such tenderness, something he reserved only for you.

You reached up and lightly traced beneath his right eye. “You kept your name.”

“If you couldn’t pronounce my true name, I’m pretty sure no one else would be able to either,” he teased.

You chuckled. “You’re right, Sylus is much easier to pronounce.”

“And it was given to me by my beloved, how could I not keep it?” he murmured.

His beloved. You were his beloved, then and now.

And he was still your dragon, even if the dragon part was currently hidden.

You leaned away from him, something he nearly growled at, but stopped himself when he watched you pick a nearby flower. With a soft smile, you tucked it behind his ear, then slid your hand down to his chest, the same spot you’d once placed a flower in his scales. The same spot he’d hidden the brooch that allowed you free passage through his territory.

“Flowers suit you better than the N109 Zone,” you murmured.

A heartbreakingly tender smile lifted the corners of Sylus’s lips. “That’s the first time someone said those words to me.”

You felt like crying.

“Only you and this flower”—his eyes flicked toward his ear—“can touch me here.”

Sylus picked a flower of his own and placed it in your hair, then cupped your face, running his thumb along your cheek.

Feeling such an undeniable pull toward him despite being already so physically close, you shifted in Sylus’s lap to straddle his hips, wrapping your arms around his neck. He sucked in a sharp breath at the new position, the hand on your face sliding to brace the back of your head.

Running your fingers through the hair at his nape, your eyes darted between his and his lips.

“Do you have any more questions?” he asked breathlessly.

“Just one,” you said.

“What is it?”

“Can the N109 Zone have flowers bloom everywhere, as far as the eye can see?”

“Only for one person.”

Sylus’s lips crashed into yours.

He was firm but gentle, angling your head right where he wanted you as his tongue swept over your bottom lip. You opened for him, whimpering when his tongue slid along yours.

Sylus’s kiss was claiming, taking what was rightfully his. He’d been waiting for this moment since he first laid eyes on you in this lifetime. Waiting for his beloved to come back to him.

Tightening his grip on you, Sylus flipped you onto your back, his body pressing against yours, all without breaking the kiss.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging on his strands. Between kisses you managed, “I want…to touch…your horns.”

Sylus groaned and you felt it rumble through his chest. He finally broke away from your lips only to trail open-mouthed kisses across your jaw and down your neck. “Not here,” he said roughly.

You would’ve been more upset had his lips not felt like heaven on your skin.

“Sylus,” you said, pulling his hair to get his attention.

He lifted his head, his cheeks flushed and ears red. “Do you want me to stop?”

You shook your head. “No,” you said, cupping his warm cheek. He nuzzled against your palm. “I love you, Sylus.”

Air whooshed from his lungs and his lips were on yours again. Your souls may have been bound but Sylus was still in disbelief by your confession, even though you’d all but said it last night. Fate—who had always been cruel to him—had finally turned in his favor. There was no curse to separate you this time, only one to keep you by his side. This was a second chance for the both of you, to love each other freely, to explore what life could truly be like together, and now that he had you, Sylus would scorch the earth before he ever let you go again.

He drew back, waiting for you to look him in the eyes before saying, “I love you too, Y/N.”

You huffed an incredulous laugh, tears welling as you stared at the man you loved. Your dragon, with you once again.

Sylus’s loving gaze took on a dangerous glint. “How about we head back to the base and I’ll show you my horns, sweetie?”

With a wide grin, you nodded. “Don’t need to ask me twice.”

Sylus chuckled, placing one last kiss against your lips before hefting you off the ground.

Then hand-in-hand, dragon and sorceress, having been given a second chance at love, walked through a field of flowers where once life ended but now a new one could begin.

[masteri-0]

Just had a sudden thought of Dragon!Shen Yuan (or any creature really) AU, where it was like a normal rite of passage for parents to raise their young (protectively, they're not jerks, just uh, very unsafe for human children, or just humans in general...), then throw them into some sort of extreme trial to prove their strength, when they're deemed ready. Oh, and it was normal, expected, even, to take a go at your parents and try to murder them as a proof of superiority, or smt like that. Doesn't mean they don't love each other! Dragons just have a different way of showing care, that's all. What's a lil play fighting?

Anyw, main point is, SY transmigrates into SQQ with this mentality. Sees his cute little sheep. Falls in love instantly and adopts him. But oh! Oh, the protagonist is so weak, so malnourished! He's gonna nurture him and make sure he's well taken care of! Such a scrawny little sheep can't possibly survive anything! Oh? What's that? He has to push the scrawny baby into the abyss? Well! Makes sense, but that's years into the future, and he has time to make sure they grow up big and strong yet! Cue all the canonical pampering.

I'd imagine during LBH's disciple days, he receives a lot more comments about him going out into the world, and there's less matchmaking from Shizun, since SY believes that girls will flock naturally to him if he's strong enough, so there's also more emphasis on his training, as well as the training of other disciples on the peak. I'm not sure how he'll react to Bai Zhan disciples. Does he comment on their strength and set off the QJP disciples, causing an interpeak war? Does he still hold the same annoyance for them and property damage?

By the time the IAC rolls around, SQQ has already sent his not so little white sheep all over to gain experience, and deemed him ready for his 'coming of age' (close to human adulthood too, he'll do fineee). There is far less tears and hesitation. When the time comes and LBH's seal is broken, SQQ feels the increase in power and the last of his worry dissipates. He basically just looks at his kid, nods, and chucks him in. Dusts off his hands and pats himself on the back. One child down, however many more to go. Oh, they grow up so fast... (Was LBH freaking out during this? Oh well, must be the nerves, he knew the feeling well. But he's read the book and knows what's going to happen. His kid will be okay, and he'll naturally gain confidence after surviving in there!... No one ever said dragons were GOOD at feelings ...)

Of course, it takes some time to adjust to the absence, but there's less grieving and freaking out over his impending doom. Sure, he's judging the original work a little. Limbless and hanging, really? SY much prefers a clean death, thank you. (How he died in his previous life is up to interpretation). But that's besides the point, his favourite is off on his trial, and it's about time to test a few of his other kiddos too (single dad to, uh, how many?)

Shen Qingqiu gains reputation as a sadistic (?) teacher that puts his disciples through dangerous missions seemingly without care, but unlike in the past, he seems to love the kids and dotes on them off-missions, so no one's really sure what's going on with... That. (He's still waiting for one of them, any of them, to try and kill him? Where's the bonding?? Was he not doing enough???)

So when LBH returns, things go uh, differently. SQQ is just here, waiting in anticipation, appreciating how his kid's all grown up, and seeing the scheme to unfold. Safe to say, people are confused. (Him, especially. What do you mean, his kid isn't trying to kill him?? Really, where did he go so wrong in parenting? None of his kids want to bond with him the proper way!!)

(I imagine SY being a better fighter than in canon due to literal trial of fire as a dragonet, and I'm not sure if he would've gotten hit with without a cure at all during the invasion in consideration of this)

[fairsweetlonging]

Okay but Mocking bird demon SY (has shapeshifting powers) pretending to be SQQ to help LBH. No system, SJ lives, just SY will not let his protagonist be miserable. He optionally also wife beams LQG who is extremely confused and horny as to why SQQ is playing hot and cold with him

i LOVE that idea oh my goodneeees!!! all the shen yuan bird aus are a GIFT that keeps on GIVING!!

as a bird he can easily live on mount cang qiong and get around unnoticed, because what peak lord or disciple is going to look twice at a small, grey silver bird? it allows him to stay close to luo binghe and help him in every way he can, from giving him food he carries in his little talons or beak, singing to him when he's down, keeping him company in the forest, to making silly mimic sounds to make him laugh.

i looked up a little about mockingbirds and apparently they're extremely territorial when raising hatchlings and their nest (attacking even cats, hawks and humans), which is perfect because luo binghe is (definitely!) a helpless hatchling in need of protecting, i mean, technically his wings haven't even properly grown in yet, he can't fly! so cue ming fang and other bullies getting relentlessly attacked when they try to come near binghe.

and then the shapeshifting: from what i've gathered, mockingbirds sing regularely at night, so i can imagine shen yuan waiting until nightfall and shen jiu goes to bed when he makes his move. he dons the master's form, goes to the woodshed, and takes binghe out to train in the forest with a real manual. of course, binghe is immediately enamoured with the man shen qingqiu becomes when night falls, maybe he even starts to think it's a "werewolf" thing where he changes when the moon comes up, because there isn't really any explanation to why the soft words, gentle touches and kind eyes turn into sneers, violence and glares as soon as the sun is up!

bc he does have the protagonist halo, and even in canon binghe knew something was up, i think he figures it out eventually when he starts alluding to certain events that never happened but that his "shizun" plays along with. also the bird has the exact same way of petting his head/ruffling his hair as his night-shizun does. one and one equals two, after all.

and liu qingge yeeeessss!! if in this au shen yuan saved him in the caves as well, he's probably getting such a headache from the complete 180s shen qingqiu keeps making!! one moment everything is great, shen qingqiu is tending to his wounds with such gentleness and a kind smile, and when liu qingge runs into him at night (when shen qingqiu always looks kind of... hurried, for some reason, almost a little nervous), they share a smile and a laugh and one time shen qingqiu even hugged him; but then when liu qingge tries to sit next to him at the meetings suddenly he's getting snarled at, called a dumb dirty beast and to sit elsewhere?? hello??? never mind getting invited into the bamboo house, or shen qingqiu accepting his (dead animal) gifts.

i also think it'd be so really funny if shen yuan ended up not caring about continuation errors or consistent character behavior, and just goes all out on the OCC by being kind to everyone in shen qingqiu's form; flirting with liu qingge, cuddling with yue qingyuan, spoiling luo binghe rotten, gifting mu qingfang all kinds of rare herbs that he can find easily in his demon bird form, and generally being a moon-saint that everyone comes to realize isn't actually shen qingqiu, but since he's doing good for the community and not harming anyone, they kind of just..... leave it. the peak lords have a meeting about it (sans shen jiu of course), and they decide the night-qingqiu can stay.

tho i do think yue qingyuan would ask shen yuan to don a different form.

also also, shen yuan getting up to all kinds of mischief by mimicking other peak lords' voices: calling to disciples with their shizun's voice, watching them get all confused because no one's there?? or making shang qinghua go around in circles because he keeps saying "this way, shang qinghua, hurry up!" in an angry liu qingge voice. and also making shen jiu open the door to no one when he mimics yue qingyuan's voice. there's a LOT he can do with it🤭

[lurkinginnernarrator]

Yk what would be interesting?

Shen Yuan as a beast hunter.

Him taking into account SQQ's unstable cultivation, the fact that while he is a suitable actor he's not a perfect one, and promptly deciding on a course of action.

"Zhangmen-shixiong, Qing Jing is the scholarly peak. If we are not hunting down knowledge, and capturing it for the future generations, what kind of scholars would that make us? This master cannot allow such a thing to occur.

So this master will be setting an example for my disciples by going out myself on such an endeavor.

And not only is Qing Jing the peak of scholars, but we are cultivators as well. Is it not our duty to be intercessors between the spiritual and demonic things and the common people?"

Yue Qingyuan can do nothing but agree.

Cut to SY!SQQ hunting down rare and powerful beasts, his hunts taking months, as he stalks the beasts and observes their behaviors; compiling valuable information about countless beasts. He then cleanly kills the beasts, all the valuable parts go to Cang Qiong, usually to Mu Qingfang.

The rare beasts improve SQQ's cultivation base and level by leaps and bounds.

And! He doesn't have to navigate the original goods personal relationships because he's not at CQ! Being a poser is so much easier when you just have to be untouchable immortal.

Whenever SQQ comes back to CQMS it's to drop off a carcass or because he absolutely has to for peak lord business. Otherwise he's always out on some sort of quest.

The Qing Jing Peak Lord's skills shoot up by 100²

His steps are silent, when he's not thinking about it he just fades into the background, continually being on hunts where silence is necessary, being less than a whisper becomes muscle memory.

His gaze isn't only scathing anymore, it's also piercing. He observes everything.

His movements are quick, graceful, full of power and yet incredibly calculated. You can't hit a Blood Blossoming Demonic Hummingbird too hard, or it'll crumple, but if you don't hit it hard enough you'll be an exsanguinated husk.

He also takes to wearing a fur mantle: it's from a Heavenly Moon Snake-Leopard, some poachers had been stalking the Snake-Leopard for months, driving it into madness. SQQ dealt with the poachers of course, but the Snake-Leopard was beyond saving. While unfortunate, the fur is so useful! Warm, water repellent, regenerative, acid resistant, and excellent camouflage! The Snake-Leopard also gifted SQQ its fangs for killing the poachers, and they make impressive daggers.

Qing Jing Peak cannot get enough of this cool badass Shizun who puts even the Liu Qingge to shame when it comes to beast hunting! And whenever he comes back to the peak he has lessons on his hunts! He even brings back specimens!!

Mu Qingfang appreciates Shen-Shixiong's newfound hobby immensely. Not to disparage Liu-Shixiong's contributions, but Shen-Shixiong brought him not one, but TWO intact Yellow Butterfly-Lizard carcasses, liver, wings AND tongue intact! The downside Shen-Shixiong hunting so much Liu Qingge has less to do, which unfortunately means more work Qian Cao, patching up Bai Zhan Disciples. And the Sect Leader seems... Depressed? MQF will have his Head Disciple drop off some Blue Lily of Uplifting tea for him.

Liu Qingge is upset at being benched and very confused???

Yue Qingyuan just smiles painfully. "As long as Xia-— as long as Shen-Shidi is happy..."

(LBH is of course enamoured with his powerful and righteous Shizun)

And of course, SY!SQQ's skills do help him out quite a bit, his reaction time improved drastically, meaning no Without-A-Cure. And canon goes just a bit easier. Maybe.

[mentallyunstablethembo]

Ok but hear me out.

Give me a Shen Yuan that was sick in his original body, ye? Nothing too special, I know, but please stay with me on this one-

Make him transmigrate, like he does die, he does get transported into the other world, but it's not as SQQ/SJ.

He has his own original body, maybe he looks a bit more like a xianxia character to fit in, maybe he looks drop dead gorgeous, sure!

But he's still sick

His sickness is still with him, and it's getting worse

Like, SY is actively slowly but surely dying, while maybe he befriends TLJ, SXY and ZZL (if he transmigrates pre-canon) and the three are trying to help him.

Maybe he meets a child SJ and takes him with him, so the poor child watches the only person that cares for him, actively dying.

Maybe he somehow becomes a beloved friend, peak lord or anything that makes the Cang Qiong sect adore him, and therefore be willing to find any cure for him.

Heck, maybe he's a powerful yet sickly and fragile demon!

Maybe he's even apart of the northern realm with MBJ, idk!

But the one thing stays the same.

Sy is dying.

Maybe it's not noticeable at first, like you'd take one look at him and sure, maybe he a looks a bit more tired, a bit paler, maybe even a bit thinner than what's considered healthy. Maybe he let's out a caugh here and there, some completely normal things.

But then there are those small (sometimes rather big) fits where his illness acts up.

Ones where he curls up on the ground, gritting his teeth in exctruciating pain as he coughs out blood, maybe he faints, maybe he has any other symptoms.

And then it gets worse, his health escalates, maybe he can't walk anymore as he's slowly losing his motor functions, maybe he's getting much weaker, his breathing worse as he feels like he's suffocating. Heck, give him any curse marks and stuff too, while you're at it, maybe even without-a-cure!

Point being, SY is dying, and there is no cure.

His death is fated to happen, while he's just waiting and wasting away, he's not that upset either (maybe a little bit).

Give me an au where SY is the mentor, the parental figure of all the sect leaders and demons, give me an au where SY is such a sweet and kind hearted person, one who still loves beasts and demons and everyone, yet is also slowly but surely being poisoned by the very air he's breathing, his body shutting down and wasting away as he's waiting for death, while everyone weeps.

Everyone is trying find a cure, maybe make one too, yet it's all in vain.

SY dies, he no longer has to endure the suffering of his pains, his illnesses, and while he passes away, he leaves behind many mourning a precious and beautiful soul.

[zenlosingit]

Back in middle school one of my favorite types of fics to read were reaction fics where the characters read/watch the story they’re from, and nowadays since I’ve been getting into danmei I can’t help but image these types of scenarios— especially for svsss.

Cause the idea of it alone is fucking funny to me. Typically the set up is always post-canon, or rarely before major events, but always without fail everyone is minding their business and suddenly they find themselves in this unknown space and having to engage in a apparent story about them.

Like you mean to tell me that key players in svsss are going to see how past events played out through SY!Sqq’s eyes??? That they suddenly have to grapple with the knowledge that he’s a transmigrator and has replaced the original Sqq for years yet have to quickly move on from that AND THEN LEARN that this man is not a levelheaded, peerless cultivator but an anxious guy who freaks the fuck out before going “fuck it we ball” and whose also oblivious to how others revere him.

It is nothing but clown hour in this scenario, no one is coming out of this unscathed. And oooh just wait until they get to the reveal about who Sqh actually is…

[gnocchibabie]

Desire and Blood (Chapter 2)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen/Strong OC (Jaenara Velaryon)

Tags: AU - canon divergence, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, Targcest (uncle/niece)

Wordcount: 5.2k

Summary:

Against all odds, the love between childhood friends prevails and the Dance of Dragons is avoided.

However, peace comes at a cost. With the unexpected proposal of marriage between Alicent Hightower's son and Rhaenyra Targaryen's only daughter, can love truly blossom between sworn enemies? Or will Jaenara Velaryon be reduced to a mere pawn?

Love may yet arise where enmity once thrived, but Aemond's relentless pursuit of power threatens to shatter everything they hold dear, including each other.

Notes: Part one is linked here!

If you are liking this series, please consider showing some love on my AO3 posting of this fic :) thank you x

The doors to the council room chamber finally shut, leaving only Alicent and her two sons by themselves. A tense air looms overhead, and Aemond Targaryen sits stiff in his chair, considering all that has just happened. 

I am to marry Jaenara Velaryon.

A funny feeling settled at the bottom of Aemond’s heart. Truth be told, marrying his niece was far from the worst possible marriage partner he could imagine. Aemond would never speak it aloud, but he had always found Jaenara strikingly beautiful. While she did not bear the signature Targaryen white hair, she shared their bewitching lavender eyes. Hers had always been an interesting shade, he had thought. And Jaenara had a remarkably Valyrian face. Many people amongst the court — even his mother Alicent — had stated that Jaenara was a spitting image of Rhaenyra in her younger years.

Aemond also admired his niece’s curious personality, which was an understatement. One second, she could be as cold as the winters of the north. A moment later, she would exhibit a kindness and warmth only read about in stories. She was a welcome challenge, Aemond thought. 

Jaenara, he remembered, is also a skilled dragonrider. She had a strong bond with her dragon, and had quickly honed many skills and tactics that many within their family — including her brothers, had struggled with. 

Perhaps there was more to admire about this match than he initially believed. 

Aemond finally raises his gaze to his mother and brother.

“I never thought you’d be one to play matchmaker, mother.” Aemond tells his mother, the slightest hint of amusement in his tone. Amusement to mask his uncertainty. Alicent looks at him incredulously, wondering how her son could joke amidst such circumstances. 

“Oh you didn’t know?” Aegon scoffs, “Mother has already done this before. Can’t you see how happy Helaena and I are together? Surely you and your beloved bastard will also be a sight to behold.” 

Aemond opens his mouth to retort his brother's jabs but his mother beats him to it.

“Enough!” Alicent slams an open palm onto the table. Aegon scoffs once more and rolls his eyes. Their mother’s eyes hold sorrow. Guilt. She has nothing to say in rebuttal. What could be said in face of the cold truth?

Aemond is about to leave when his mother finally speaks: “You will speak to Jaenara with more respect from now on if you are expected to sit at her mother’s council…” she trails off, as if unsure of her own words.

“I seem to remember you spoke of her the same way not too long ago - what was it you called her? Plain-featured?,” Aegon says, “Though your criticism of Rhaenyra and her litter of bastards has lessened over these last few months. Has the Queen snuffed out your senses too?” 

“Aegon,” Alicent’s voice is heavy, “Aemond. Rhaenyra only has everyone’s best interest in mind. She is following her father’s dying wishes - your father’s dying wish. We were both with him in his last moments…” The woman before them clad in green closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. 

“I know what has happened in the past. But this is our opportunity to put it at rest…”

Put it at rest? Aemond feels disgust at his mother’s sympathies. They took my eye. They made my childhood the nightmare it was. They chipped away at me bit by bit.  

“You say this about the same people who robbed me of an eye, mother,” Aemond responds coolly, “The same people who faced no consequences for this. I have seen how this has tormented you, even years later. As you have with me.”

The prince can see the conflict that bubbles below his mother’s surface. Alicent turns to her son and does something unexpected. She takes her hand in his. 

Aemond’s eye softens for the smallest moment.

“My son. There is no mending what has been left in the past. But there is still time to mend the future. I only wish to see you happy.”

He shakes out of his mother’s grasp. “She will do no such thing.”

Aemond stands and makes a brisk exit for the door. Leaving his mother and brother behind, and himself to his thoughts.

Someone will pay the price. And I will make him pay for it in blood.

The prince does not find sleep so easily that night. He challenges himself to imagine the look that would grace his niece’s face when her mother would have to break the news of their arrangement to her. He wondered if her lavender eyes would narrow in disgust, her lip curling in a snarl, anger palpable. Or perhaps she had looked to her mother with quiet surrender, making no reaction and solemnly accepting his hand. He decided she had done the former. Jaenara had always been a rather animated young woman - and that was putting it lightly. Even in their youth she had been this way.

In the quiet of his chambers, Aemond finds his mind enraptured by the princess. 

He is reminded of a time she had scolded him when she was a girl no older than six, and himself only seven, for pushing her twin to the ground and giving him a scraped elbow. The only person who managed to stop her tirade had been Rhaenyra. Aemond recalls the young mother scooping her twins into her arms, one flailing around still shouting at him whilst the other had tears streaming down his face. The prince smiles almost fondly from the memory, surprising himself.

The next memory that came to him happened a few years later. Aemond had more often found himself at the center of ridicule, frequently dealt by Jace and Luke. Oftentimes by Aegon too, though he chose to ignore that detail. The young prince had always felt distant to the rest of his family, as though he were different - lesser than the rest of them. And how could he not, as a dragon-less Targaryen. He was a dragon without wings. And his nephews had made sure he was aware of this. Aemond recalled how his blood boiled at the thought that bastards such as his nephews - such as Jaenara - had dragons. And yet, he did not. Was there something wrong with him? Had there been a reason his egg had not hatched alongside him in his cradle? Was he unworthy?

The taunting had reached a new level when Jaenara’s brothers had gifted Aemond a pig. Something he was much more worthy of rather than a dragon - they had said. He remembers when his nephews had revealed the creature to him in the training yard. Even Aegon laughed at him, so loudly it had caught the attention of Jaenara, who had been on the far end of the square speaking with Helaena. Aemond remembered how her gaze had turned to him - how he waited for her to join in on the teasing and laughing. 

No such thing happened.

Jaenara bounded over to the group of boys, a quiet storm forming behind her lavender eyes. Helaena had opted to hang back from the debacle, watching the impending uproar with rapt attention. 

“Think that’s funny, do you?” Jaenara had asked aloud when she finally reached their group. 

Silence. 

Jaenara continued, “I seem to remember that you yourself Jacaerys - you have made very little progress in even mounting Vermax.” The young boy averted his attention to the ground, suddenly very interested in a mound of dirt near his feet. The reprimanding had not stopped there.

“And you-” She turned to Lucerys, “You on the other hand may be able to mount your dragon, though you find yourself on the ground within seconds.” She looks between her brothers, and then to Aemond. Each holds their gaze with the other for a few moments.

“Neither of you have any room to be acting as though you are real dragon riders yourselves.” She seems to have finished, turning on her heels and running back to Helaena.

“AND TAKE THAT PIG BACK!” She yells over her shoulder. Aemond watched as his sister and niece strode away, arm in arm. He returns his attention to Jace and Luke, whose faces are the same shade as their house colors. Aegon’s laughter fills the yard again.

This incident had shown Aemond a different side of his niece. For an instant, he was filled with an immense regret for all the times he had ever been cold to her. The times he had called her a bastard. The times he had joined in on Aegon’s belittling of her and her family. She had taken all of that - for years on end - and still defended him. He couldn’t really understand why.

He can do little to prevent his least favorite memory from entering his mind. Aemond takes in a breath and closes his eyes. He remembers the night at Driftmark. The night he had claimed Vhagar. The night he lost his eye. 

That time had been different. Jaenara had not been present when the fighting had broken out - not until Rhaena had frantically found her and told her of what was transpiring, unsure of what to do herself. When his niece entered the room, Aemond had been on top of her brother. The sight had sent the young girl into a frenzy and, without fully understanding the context of the situation, she had flung herself onto Aemond and wrenched the boy off of Lucerys. 

“Get off of him!” She had screeched. With her arm wrapped around Aemond’s neck, Jaenara threw herself back and they soon found themselves on the cold floor. “What do you think you-” Her question remained unanswered at this moment - this singular distraction turning Aemond’s attention towards his niece. He remembered the bewildered look on her face, her black hair coming loose from her braid. Her white night dress and the light purple robe that clung to her. A bead of blood on her bottom lip. She had always had a bad habit of biting it, Aemond had noticed. Hard enough to draw blood. The blood began to trickle down her chin.

It was the last thing his good eye had ever seen before Luke split open Aemond’s face, from his cheek to his forehead. His own blood splattered onto Jaenara’s powder white gown, staining the cloth forever.

Darkness. A scream.

Aemond sat up in bed, blinking away the rest of the memory. He opened and closed a fist. Yes, he was sure of her response now. Jaenara was not happy about the prospect of this union, and had surely let her mother - and the entirety of Dragonstone - know this. Where she lacked Velaryon parentage, Jaenara’s Targaryen fierceness made up for this tenfold. 

She will meet her match.

Aemond would swallow his pride - swallow his grudges against his niece, and become her husband. Though, he decided, she should not expect much from him. He held no love in his heart for her. Surely no romantic love. He would use her as he needed, to obtain what he wanted - power. That, and retribution for the slight that his family had suffered in having Rhaenyra as their Queen. Though some of the weaker members of his family would not see it his way.

He circles back to the dark thoughts that had crossed his mind earlier. He would be doing his soon-to-be wife a favor in getting rid of her twin. She would be made heir to the Seven Kingdoms. It was probably the closest act akin to love Aemond would find himself capable of accomplishing during their relationship. And he would help her to rule. He was nothing if not helpful.

He could make it look like an accident. He had previously considered poisoning Jacaerys. Aemond would not act until a comfortable time into his marriage, so as not to raise suspicion. Though he decided, suspicion would be raised regardless if the heir were to suddenly drop dead in the middle of dinner. He hardly thought that hands clenched around the throat, skin purple, and eyes bulging out of his head would seem inconspicuous.

Poison was out of the question.

Aemond Targaryen feels a sudden sense of dread in plotting his own nephew’s demise. The dread only grows when he truly pictures carrying the act out himself. If he were ever to be discovered, The Realm would christen him with the title of Kinslayer. 

To be a Kinslayer is to be despised by The Gods. To be damned to the Seven Hells. 

Aemond is unsure if he harbors enough hatred in him to carry out the act, though he certainly is no stranger to being on the receiving end of such hatred. 

He considers if he possesses enough complacency to suffer the consequences, should they be dealt. He wonders if his heart is as hard as everyone else believes it to be.

And yet…

Unable to find sleep, Aemond climbs out of bed once more. He dresses and finishes the outfit off with his long black cloak, throwing the hood over his head. 

The One Eyed Prince slips out of the Red Keep and ventures into the Streets of Silk, hoping to find some semblance of comfort. 

— — —

Candlelight illuminates the face of the young princess as her eyes scan the pages of a rather large, rather dusty book. In the days before their inevitable departure, Dragonstone had become a whirlwind of busy servants and flustered royals. All of Jaenara’s possessions had been packed away and taken to King’s Landing ahead of time with the family’s servants, save for the text seated in her lap. In such a tumultuous time, the young woman found solace in its pages. 

Jaenara had read the story of Rhaenys Targaryen, one of Aegon the Conqueror's sister-wives, so many times she felt she could recite the text backwards. Visenya had been a sister more remembered and revered by history for her valor and fierceness as a warrior; though Jaenara found herself drawn to the gentler sister. Rhaenys was more of a revered politician than a feared warrior. To Jaenara, she was just as formidable. She wanted to be like the Queen. Loved and feared. 

A knock upon the door turns her attention away from her histories. Jacaerys enters her chambers and lingers at the door for a moment, before resigning himself to sit next to her on the plush bed. 

“Jace,” Jaenara breathes, closing the text. 

Jacaerys looks over the book. 

“Again?” He attempts a small smile. 

Jaenara gets up from her place on the bed to create some distance between her and her brother. She places the book on her writing desk, taking mental note not to leave the book behind when she leaves tomorrow. “I find comfort through her in times such as these.” she responds shortly. 

Jace sighs, “You have been avoiding me.”

“You have made it easy.”

“Nara,” Jacaerys begins to sound annoyed, “You are not the only person who has had to…adapt to this change.”

Jaenara turns swiftly towards her brother, loose raven tresses swaying behind her wildly, “No, but I am the only person amongst us who had had their hand sold to a snake. You cannot understand my grief, Jace! You are betrothed to Baela - sweet Baela. You two actually like each other. But I am condemned to be the conciliatory sacrifice of this family.“

You are being unfair. Jaenara says to herself — she knows it to be true. You are being difficult. But she cannot help it. Her twin was afforded the luxury of being born a man. A man who did not have to face the same realities she currently found herself in.

Jace shifts on her bed, frame creaking under him. He seems to struggle finding his words, “I…you are right Jaenara,” He sighs, “I do not know what it is like. Just as you do not know what it is like to now be heir of the Seven Kingdoms.”

She glances at him and her twin continues.

“We both have the burdens of our parents to bear. We wear crowns too heavy for us.” Jace is solemn.

Jaenara bites her lip hard and lets out a shaky breath. A sickly sheen of guilt settled in her stomach. It was true that she had not considered what the rest of her family had been feeling of late. She seats herself beside Jacaerys and the bed groans under their weight once more. 

“I am sorry Jace.” Is all she can muster up.

Jace places a reassuring hand over her own. “You may yet make some use out of your upcoming marriage.”

Confused, Jaenara looks to her brother.

“Aemond is a fierce fighter. He is well versed in the histories and philosophies. I hear he has become a knowledgeable strategist. He rides the largest and oldest dragon, who is no stranger to battle.” Copper eyes meet lilac eyes. “And with you as his wife, he will be in our pocket.”

“He would be a formidable ally to have. But Aegon holds a seat on mother’s council - not Aemond.” Jaenara asserts.

“I as heir and you as his wife could sway this decision.”

“Mother has not even been crowned and you are already scheming.” Jaenara’s words are not so chiding as they are playful.

“Not scheming. I only hold our best interests in mind.” Jace tells his sister.

She looks him over once more. When had they become so…grown-up?

“You tell me you are fearful of wearing the crown one day…I think you will come to wear it well.” Jaenara softly smiles as Jacaerys scoffs and rises to his feet. 

“Just think it over, Nara,” He turns to the door, “You must rest. We rise early in the morning and depart for King’s Landing.” 

Before he leaves, he throws a glance at his sister over his shoulder. “I won’t let any harm come to you…from him.”

Jaenara does not let on how much the words mean to her. She has always disguised her true feelings under a cover of dripping sarcasm. “You need not worry about me, brother. Perhaps you should protect him from me.”

Jacaerys laughs and leaves again.

As Jaenara climbs into bed, she considers her brother's words.

Where he may prove to fail as a husband, he could make up for as an advisor. A weapon.

The princess blows out the candle and dreams.

In her slumber, Jaenara is face to face with Aemond Targaryen. He stands opposite to her, in front of a throng of people. She looks down and sees herself clad in an ornate dress of scarlet, white, and gold. Her black hair is pinned up in several twisting braids. The One Eyed Prince looks to his beautiful bride, eye full of admiration. For a moment, she thinks he might love her.

She thinks she may like that.

Suddenly, gasps are heard around the crowd. The gasps morph into shouts, scattered all over the Great Hall. A sharp pain. Jaenara feels a sticky warmth envelop her cheek, and feels something dribble onto her wedding gown. She reaches a trembling hand up to her face, pulls it back, and watches blood soak her palm, dripping below her wrist and all the way down the length of her arm. The wails echoing throughout the hall only grow around her. It is maddening. A sickening pop makes her blood run cold and she watches as one of her eyes rolls onto the floor below. 

Her husband’s mouth moves yet his voice comes out delayed, a haunting chorus.

An eye for an eye.

Jaenara wakes to another knock at her door. 

“My lady, may I help you dress?”

The princess wills her breath steady and wipes the sweat from her brow.

“Come…come in!” She calls out to her handmaiden. 

There was no time to dwell on the meaning of dreams.

— — — 

Prince Aemond sits across from Helaena as her children busy themselves with their toys. A handmaiden hands Jahaerys a toy dragon, which the boy launches at his brother. 

“I think I will be glad to see them today,” Helaena says suddenly, looking up from her embroidery, “In truth, I have missed Jaenara.”

Aemond continues to watch his niece and nephews play as he answers his sister, “You may be the only one amongst us who feels that way,” He mutters, “Though I do remember how close you and Jaenara were as children.”

Helaena had been an even lonelier child than she was now, as a lonely young woman. Always murmuring words that his family could not understand, and did little in trying to understand. Aemond had always felt sorry for her. But Jaenara did not seem to mind her aunt’s off putting nature. He recalls them as young girls, running throughout the castle gardens together, trying to catch butterflies. He remembers as they grew older, a few young ladies in court had taken to calling his sister, Helaena The Hysterical.

Before Aemond could put an end to the name calling, Jaenara had done it herself. The girls in court would not so much as look at either of them wrong.

And most of all, Jaenara listened to Helaena. Something nobody in his family seemed to do. Not even him, in truth. 

“I would hope you two can become close as well,” She gives her brother a wistful look, “You are to be married.”

“I think us siblings are doomed to hold strained relationships - at best - with their marriage partners.” Aemond replies. 

Helaena looks down at her sewing. Maelor and Jaehaerys fight over a wooden horse. Aemond’s sister remains in front of him, though she looks as though she is worlds away.

“Those child led astray finds solace in the embrace of the sea.” she whispers.

Aemond’s attention is redirected from children to mother. A silence passes over him and his sister’s handmaids.

More innocuous ramblings, he thinks.

A servant enters the door to inform the sibling’s of The-Queen-To-Be’s arrival.

“Come, sister,” Aemond begins, “Alicent will be waiting for us. She wishes to receive our family in the Great Hall.”

Helaena sets down her embroidery and looks up at her brother, “A dragon’s ambition foretells his own undoing.” 

Aemond chooses not to hear her words.

— — —

Jaenara and her family’s reception in the Great Hall could not have felt more strained. Guarded expressions and tight lipped smiles adorned Alicent and her children - though Aemond and Aegon had not smiled at all. Helaena seemed blissfully unaware of the anxious energy surrounding her. Jaenara had sent a secret smile her way - a genuine one. And though she felt her uncle’s eyes boring into her, she refused to meet his gaze. 

Rhaenyra had been displeased by the whole ordeal, hoping to ease tensions at dinner. Jaenara found herself remembering the last dinner she had shared with her entire family and thought it to be an impossible task.

Jaenara had spent the time before dinner settling into her new chambers, though all her belongings had already been settled into place before her arrival. The room felt more inviting than her chamber’s in Dragonstone, which were drab and dreary. Though, this was the only silver lining she could find about her circumstances thus far.

When the time had come to prepare for the evening, the princess disrobed from her riding leathers, the smell of dragon peeling off along with them. Her handmaidens help her to dress in a gown that Rhaenyra had picked out for her.

I do not even have the agency to dress myself now?

Jaenara stepped into a dress of crushed velvet, a dark teal in color. The neckline was embroidered with pearls, illuminating her collarbones. The sleeves of the gown hang loosely and open at her wrists, revealing a pale cream color which lines the teal. A belt of silver bangles mixed with pearls hangs around her waist, crested above the teal, cream, and aquamarine shades of fabric that pool to the floor. The attire bore the unmistakable air of Velaryon fashion. The wearer, not so much.

Portions of Jaenara’s dark silky hair were re-braided into a ring, as if it were a crown sitting atop her head, while the rest of her hair remained loose. Black waves ran down her back like a waterfall. 

Her ladies had been told to do this, to help her into a fine gown. To adorn her ears and wrists with bangles. To fix her hair in a way that flattered her face.

To impress him.

She almost laughs out loud at the thought. Jaenara figured that Aemond would find her as charming as he had found that pig he’d been gifted all those years ago.

She decides to regard him similarly, despite her thoughts drifting to long platinum hair that she envied so much. 

Her maids had finally finished with their work. 

Jaenara is sitting around a great wooden table in the dining hall, with the entirety of her family. Servants have begun to deposit plates filled with meats and vegetables and pies and cakes all around. The clanking of plates and silverware fills an otherwise quiet room. Jaenara is begrudgingly sitting next to her uncle, and Jace and Luke shoot her looks of pity from across the table. She picks up her glass and takes a swig.

Suddenly, Rhaenyra Targaryen speaks, “I wish to clear the air,” She begins and everyone looks up from their plates. Alicent Hightower seems especially stiff. 

“I do not wish for this to be a time of tension and formalities - though I do thank you,” She looks at Alicent directly, “for your welcoming reception earlier today. I want us to speak freely amongst each other. I want only what our father, Viserys, wanted.” She makes a gesture towards her siblings at the end of her sentence. Aegon clears his throat.

“There is much to discuss in the coming days, but I want this to be a night of camaraderie and celebration.” Her mother stands, drink in hand, “Let us raise our glasses-”

Jaenara feels herself melting into her chair.

“-To the union between my cherished daughter, Jaenara Velaryon, and the prince Aemond Targaryen. May their union bring strength and prosperity to our noble houses, and may it be blessed by the gods." Her voice held a hint of cautious optimism, echoing the hopes and dreams of a realm poised on the brink of new alliances.

Jaenara lifts her glass, as well as her attention to the man next to her. Aemond is already looking at his niece, a smirk on his face. 

To everyone’s surprise, Alicent Hightower rises from her seat. She looks less burdened from the words of Rhaenyra.

“Thank you, Your Grace…for your unflinching understanding.” The two women share a look, “And to Jaenara and Aemond. A lovely match indeed.”

Helaena begins to clap, though no one else around the table shares her sentiments.

Aegon lets out an audible laugh at the toastings, “Apologies,” he adds quickly, “I am just so - overjoyed by this…marriage.” His voice drips with sarcasm. 

Jaenara forces a smile, though her eyes shine with a different expression, “I am happy this match pleases you, uncle.” 

However, Aemond does not let the jab pass unanswered. "I hope your joy does not swell too greatly, brother," he retorts, "for dragons have been known to breathe fire when overshadowed." 

Jaenara sits up straighter when she sees Aegon roll his eyes and throw back his cup. She regards Aemond with a quizzical gaze. The princess regarded Aemond’s retort as nothing more than a brotherly spat. Before any more slights can be passed around, the servants finish bringing out the rest of the food. The family begins their dinner and small conversations break out amongst those resigned to sit next to each other.

The princess watches her brothers laugh with Baela and Rhaena. Sees her mother and step-father speak with one another. She pushes her food around her plate.

The sudden sound of Aemond’s voice makes her jump, “The cooking of the castle staff does not please you?” he asks, amused.

Jaenara stops playing with her food and her eyes cut away to her uncle.

“The first conversation you wish to have with me - in years - is whether or not I like our meal?” her voice drips with condescending skepticism, “As if the fate of the realm hinges on my opinion of pigeon pie?”

He tsks at her, “Always so difficult niece. I am only attempting to make conversation. An endeavor that seems beneath you - a pursuit you avoid at all costs if it is with me.”

“You are just…quite bad at it.” Jaenara remarks.

It is Aemond’s turn to take a sip of his drink to hide his annoyance.

“I do enjoy that…costume you’re wearing. But you are more a Targaryen than a Velaryon - don’t you agree?” Aemond says lowly.

Jaenara knows his remarks are meant to be demeaning, though she tries to take it in stride. She was a Targaryen after all. And she was pleased that she acted so much like one that people took notice, even if it was Aemond. But an insult was an insult all the same. 

Exasperated, Jaenara turns to the prince fully, “Is this what I can expect when married to you? Insults thrown at me for all my days to come? You should know I can deal them out as well, twice as hard.”

Aemond chuckles, “You are too easy and quick to provoke, Jaenara. You are too tense.” She sees something flicker beneath his eye.

Aemond took pleasure in goading his niece, reveling in the predictability of her fiery responses. More silence passes between them. The prince watches Jaenara force a few bites of food into her mouth and continues to eavesdrop on conversations around her. Daemon whispers something to Rhaenyra, and her mother takes a glance at her daughter and half-brother. Jaenara winces. 

“You asked what you can expect being my…wife,” Aemond’s surprisingly soft gaze is already fixed upon her, “You can expect a union that does not harbor any illusions of love. But one founded on mutual…respect. Understanding. We shall navigate this pact with the grace and duty befitting of our situation if you would only allow it.” His words somehow put her at ease.

Jaenara is perplexed. Maybe her mother had been right in saying that Aemond had changed. Though she was skeptical of his remarks. It was yet uncertain whether they could truly let go of all that had transpired in the past. 

Although, the princess felt ever the faintest tinge of disappointment at his words.

“Well…” She begins, though her words do not come out as strong as she would like them to under her uncle’s intense stare, “I am…pleased to hear that. We do not have to feign ignorance then. I expected nothing more from us.”

To Jaenara’s dismay, Aemond seems amused. It is not so often she stumbles over her words. His gaze lingers over her. He takes notice of the pearl that sits prettily below her collarbones. He watches her eyes fall to her hands, which she wrings in her lap. Jaenara finds that she does not like how being at a loss for words makes her feel, and decides to throw back her drink, trying to find comfort in the bottom of the chalice.

[yumeka-sxf]

We got a short mission chapter today that takes place prior to the gala!

For some reason, the English version has Anya calling Damian by his actual name in this panel, something I don't think she's done before. But in the original Japanese version, she's still calling him "Sy-on Boy." Both of them calling the other by their actual name seems like a big step in their relationship, so it's weird that the English version did this...maybe it was just an unintentional mistake.

Who was Martha's boyfriend indeed? I don't know but maybe his initials are H.H.

I love that Anya wanted to pick a dress that resembles Yor's ❤️ Also her taking all the "killing" expressions literally was hilarious, such an Anya thing to do!

After the previous chapter, there was so much fan art of Anya practicing dancing with Loid...and it actually ended up being canon!

Nice to see Yor and Bond again, it's been a while...poor Bond though! First he gets stepped on, then wet. At least that wasn't a scalding hot drink!

I like that Loid offered to clean up the spill for Yor. Also that he brings up Plan C again - still waiting for that to become a plot point again!

Soft Loid resurfacing after seeing Anya's determination is always nice~

Also, as an aside for those who haven't seen it yet, Endo made this new illustration last week to celebrate SxF's 5-year anniversary (5 years since chapter 1 was published!)

Thank you Endo for continuing to bring us joy with this amazing series! With the way the story's going, I can definitely see SxF continuing for another 5 years~ Can't wait to see how the plot and characters keep developing 😁

[levemetal]

Hi hello, I rushed this and I cannot be arsed to properly render this. I have other things to draw, many of them. But also. I really put too much effort into the flat of this that I kinda burned myself out LMAO

ANYWAY CALAMITY/GHOST KING SHEN JIU DESIGN. Take it, cherish him like I would. I wanted to dress him up like the pretty princess he is <3 Plus, ghost kings a la tgcf gotta slay in all categories so here we go. I'll ramble more about the more coherent thoughts I have but you can tear ghost king SJ from my cold dead hands. ٩( ᐛ )و

His motivations more becoming a ghost king/calamity are fairly straightforward if you're familiar with Shen Jiu and all the funky workings of his mind. It is to be stronger than everybody else and attaining a place that cannot be taken from him cause he has the power for it. So that no one else can have any power over him either.

However this also means that he does not necessarily have any grand plans of what to do with that power. I imagine he'd be a recluse, living off and alone somewhere hardly getting involved in the affairs of the living and gods etc.

If he does, I imagine it might more be in the style of killing slavers and otherwise bad men. Maybe a sort of brothel workers protector, getting rid of the most problematic and horrible clients? Let your imagination wander!

For a title? I have no clue man, I am not good enough at words for this. Something with green or teal as the color and leaves. That's how far I got.

Now the juicy stuff, POWERS. Leaves. Leaves and fans is the tldr version. I imagine he'd use the qi-infused leaves as in canon, just far more deadlier (probably) and conjured rather than just reliant on leaves off trees in the vicinity. For a weapon, if available (read: SY is not possessing SJ's OG body, or Xiu Ya was not obtained) I think he should get to keep Xiu Ya, or otherwise a blood weapon shaped after it. Tho if I had to give him a blood weapon a la Hua Cheng's E'ming, it would be a fan. The blades on it would likely be shift on, both an edge to cut with and places for darts to fly out. Otherwise in terms of weapons I could see daggers very well too for SJ. They'd suit him, as he could get in and get a quick stab or just throw them from afar. With his fighting style that likely has a lot of the ruthless tactics of his youth incorporated, I think it would fit just like a battle fan.

Otherwise, I do see him being a capable shapeshifter, or some sort of abilities to stay in the shadows undetected. If he needs some sort of animal or communication/surveillance skill associated with him, I personally would pick ravens. Spiritually created ravens as a sort of spying network and surveillance method.

Another juicy detail could be cultivation method. Tgcf does mention that the ghosts still have their own form of cultivating their power. For example, He Xuan eats and absorbs the abilities of other ghosts, whereas Hua Cheng is mentioned to cultivate via slaughtering. The xianxia in tgcf is rather vague now that I have a few more danmei under my belt, and specifically Devil Venerable also wants to know has given me a looot of thoughts about some interesting ways to detail this if it is so desired for a setting. Do please keep in mind tho I haven't really researched cultivation and the wuxia/xianxia 101 worldbuilding yet so this may not make sense. Anywho:

For Shen Jiu in particular I'd find it interesting to give him his own form rather than just copying either Hua Cheng (most fitting imo) or He Xuan (bonus eating disorder included, hooray!). So here are some ideas I had in no particular order:

- Take the core melting aspect from mdzs and applying it to ghosts (sorta): dissolving and absorbing the cores/qi of cultivators and ghosts alike, thus claiming the power for his own.

- Blood. Think less vampire and more slaughter. The messier the kill essentially, bleed the victims dry and absorb the blood to transform it into qi. (Thank you returning Dragon Age brainrot)

- dvawtk's Path of Slaughter. It doesn't really fit SJ as it relies on constantly finding stronger opponents to fight and challenge, especially ones stronger than oneself and persevering against the odds. Not his personal choice but it would poetically fit him and his entire life pretty well.

That's all for now. If you made it till here.... have a gold star: ⭐️

[saintobio]

blue christmas

a sincerely yours christmas special. non-canon. angst. 900 wc. part of the sy side-stories.

It was quiet that night. 

The fire crackled softly in the hearth, and the scent of pine and cinnamon lingered in the air while the warm glow of Christmas lights twinkled on the tree. Outside, snow drifted lazily to the ground, covering the surroundings of your home in a soft, pile of white. It felt peaceful—almost too peaceful—and you sat back on the couch, lounging after a nice Christmas dinner with your teenage son, Sachiro, who cradled a mug of cocoa in his hands beside you.

You smiled faintly, admiring how much he had grown, and how this quiet night seemed so far removed from the all the drama that had once filled your life. But the comfort of the moment didn’t last long before he spoke. His voice, deep like his father’s, broke the silence of your supposed peaceful night. 

“Mom,” he began, “Why didn’t you ever choose to remarry Dad?”

The question hit you harder than expected, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the right words. Really, what were the right words? You had never been good at talking about these things, and you didn’t expect that your son would put you on the hot seat like this. The past, especially those connected to Satoru—sometimes it felt easier to leave them untouched, forgotten. As it should be. 

You glanced at your son, unsure of how to explain the complicated web of emotions that tangled inside you. “I thought... it was for the best,” you said quietly, voice soft as you searched for something that sounded right. His question was too sudden to be given a decent answer. “You know your Dad and I just couldn’t make it work. And for you, for us, it was better this way.”

Sachiro nodded slowly as if he already knew the answer, yet his fingers tightened around the mug. You could see the way he was processing your words, as if he was hoping for better reasoning. He had never even known the sibling he had lost until recently, the gap that finally forced his father out of your lives. Sachiro only saw the quiet love that both his parents shared, but it wasn’t enough, not for either of you.

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like if my sibling were here?” he asked, clearly inciting. “If you kept her, mom. Would she be celebrating with us tonight?”

You felt the ache in your chest as the question landed. You knew Sachiro’s question came from a place of grudge, aiming really well at a spot that hurt the most. And it did good at bringing you a pang of grief from a memory you had tried to bury long ago. You weren’t numb. Of course the loss still stung, even all these years later.

“I think about it all the time,” you murmured, unable to hide the shame in your voice. “What she would’ve been like. How she would’ve looked like. But... I don’t want to remember, Sachiro. I’ve made peace with it.”

But he wasn’t done. “Then, why didn’t you try again?” His voice was so gentle, yet so curious. “Why didn’t you remarry anyone else? I mean... Dad’s married to someone else now. And they’re having another baby. Shouldn’t that be a sign?”

The words felt like a stab to your chest, your heart shattering with an emotion you couldn’t name. Satoru’s life had moved on without you, far far too long ago, yet every reminder of it still cut deep. 

“I’m happy for him,” you said softly, the words stuck in your throat. “But that doesn’t mean I want the same outcome for myself. It’s... complicated.”

Marrying someone else again was not in your books. 

You could feel the intensity of Sachiro’s gaze on you, as if waiting for more. But you didn’t have more to give. You didn’t know how to explain the parts of you that had been shattered, the pieces that had never fully healed. Even if your own son hated you for it. 

“I just want you to be happy, Mom,” Sachiro said, turning away from you, his gaze landing on the Christmas tree. “I want you to have what you deserve. When I have my own family someday, I don’t want you to be spending your Christmas all alone.”

You wanted to tell him everything. How much you loved him, how much you would do for him. How hard it was to move on, how hard it was to see his father moving on with someone else. But the words needn’t be said. At least, not for tonight. 

And then, just as quickly as the moment had come, it faded into a kaleidoscope of memories. The world around you shifted, and the warmth of the fire and the smell of Christmas began to dissolve. Suddenly, you were back in your bed, heart pounding recklessly in the darkness.

You woke up eyes wide in surprise, until the reality of your room finally made sense to you. You blinked, trying to steady yourself. It was a dream. It was all a dream. 

Sighing, you let your head fall into your hands. And just for a moment, you let yourself mourn the future you would never have. The family you would never see, the happiness you could never quite reach.

But as the soft glow of the Christmas lights flickered in the silent night, you slowly allowed yourself to breathe. Tomorrow would come. But tonight, you would let the dream linger just a little longer.

[remi-harbinger]

@pigeonoutsideyourwindow suggested if SY got transmigrated into YQY adn I think that that would be so so good for my sj/sy agenda but lets be fr how would SY get past SJ :(( Its canonical that despite SY's goofy inner monologue he's a good actor, but SJ has been obsessed with this man for as long as he remembers. Memory loss doesn't work because unless you're telling me YQY is now at the mental age of an 8 year old SJ has been there for the whole ride (except when YQY left him, but still the point stands). So that got me thinking: SY that transmigrates as YQY, freaks out and skedaddles.

Somehow YQY has an affinity for creating -- weapons can't be that far from carefully crafted words, can they? SY creates a gun because the only thing he remembers clearly about a weapon was the full information on how to create 3D printed guns that he found on an internet deep dive. He changes up YQY's colour scheme - white's the opposite of black, you can't really go wrong there - and wears a weimao, which admittedly looks a little funny because YQY is pretty buff and it creates an interesting juxtaposition. Now, he has to figure out a way to disconnect himself from Xuan Su AND convince the townsfolk of the remote border town he's settled in that he isnt an immortal (technically he is but, ahem, details)

Whilst YQY has, to the eyes of the cultivation world, died while out on a nighthunt, the infamous Qing Jing Peak Lord has been mourning, oscillating between lashing out and being silent for months. The most famous lashing out is related to a series of R rated novels "The Two Lords" detailing people suspiciously similar to YQY and himself.

He decides the sun and flower seeds are the way to go because after inspecting the absolute mesh of scars across his body, it seems like YQY's shizun bound the sword to his body instead of his soul!! Of course who better to get the seeds than the trusty traitor SQH? Cue SQH scurrying around in fear of the immortal in white with - IS THAT A GUN???

SY gets a new body (fancier this time - he has YQY's excellent spiritual roots yet the new body looks a little more like his old one) and somehow YQY got slotted back into one of the other plants SQH was growing as backup!!! But oh no. Now that YQY's free of the shackles and knows that SJ is mourning + can confess to SJ, he's probably going to go feral, isn't he.

[jnnephm]

Okay hear me out cus I'm a sucker for papa!sylus.

I was texting with my friend and suddenly we came up with a headcanon/idea which is Kieran and Luke are our babies. Yes. You don't read it wrong. And I mean it.

Like the theory is a bit lame and there's no evidence to back it up, but we all think it's cute so it now becomes our inside joke. Basically, Kieran and Luke are MC and Sylus's children, but then something happened to all of them. So Luke and Kieran lost their family. They tried to go back in time to save their parents then got stuck in the current timeline.

And! They knew that if their parents weren't together, they would disappear. That's why they did their hardest to matchmake MC and Sylus.

We also discussed another idea: there're an universe in which sylus and Mc have their happy ending. However, because that universe is too perfect, it isn't allowed to exist. the only "trace" of that timeline ever took place is the presence of Luke and Kieran. The twins longed for their once happy family, and they came to Earth and tried helping Sylus and Mc got together.

Tell me that they aren't mischievous twins who caught their parents being flirty with each other and instead of how normal kids behave (saying eww to their parents), this duo straight up got ignored by us 🤭.

I love these two babies.

Okay I admit that I only post this since I need someone to write about four of them being silly with papa sylus has to endure the battlefield (consist of toys and dirt) that MC and the twins (as kids) cause (on his expensive carpet, no less).

I'm in need of domestic fluff and I swear those breeding fics ya all have written recently don't help at all! I blame it on ya all lolol.

I can hear papa!Sy-sy call the twins 'kiddos' or 'brats' and say "you two make me age." He will send them Mephisto like a guard dog, "not to watch the twins, but watch over the poor soul who came in contact with them." He says, but we all know he worries sick for Luke and Kieran. Like in canon universe, dude barely gives them any task, that's why they have time to fool around like menaces of society while Sylus taking care of his business behind the scene. Imagine if he's actually the dad of the twins. Lmao.

And I just think that canon!Sylus would save them as Clown 1 and Clown 2 on his phone. He might be mean about it "well that's the only thing they are good at." Yet the truth is they are the bright light for his dull days before he met MC (again).

[tossawary]

Happy March, everyone! It took me a while to make this post because I don't really have a lot of news to share at the moment.

I've paused my for-fun reread of SVSSS (stopped at the beginning of the Airplane Extras) because I have to work on my MXTX Remix fic now. That will be finished by the end of the month and up in early April. I have a few one shots on back burners, as always, but I'm not actively planning to post any of them this month.

The most exciting news is possibly that I now have digital copies of the SVSSS books (English translation) so that I can reference them wheneeeeever I want. I'm hoping that this will improve my writing workflow for a lot of my fics! I often like to write with my notes document up side-by-side with my writing document, and this is going to make making notes documents sooooo much easier. I can just copy-paste the quotes I need now! I'm unstoppable.

I think I've really been needing this for "Sit With Your Soul", my SY & SJ Daemon AU, which I have been chipping away at very slowly for way too long now. I really needed an easier way to reference canon for that, so that I can use it as a stable launch point and do some sick flips and all that jazz.

I'm going to be off-work and busy for a week soon, so I may post more or post less during that time frame. I'm thinking about bringing MDZS with me for a reread (it has been a LONG time) now that I have physical copies of all of the books. It's tempting to bring TGCF instead to finally read the whole thing properly, but that's a LOT of volumes to carry around (CANNOT take both, not about to buy digital copies yet) and there's something appealing about tackling these stories in their proper order.

[stiltonbasket]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers (except me because obvs I have done it). Spread the self-love ❤

Here goes!

travelers through the empty gate - aka, how would the Sunshot Campaign have gone if MDZS existed in a more historical setting where cultivators served the imperial family (the Wen clan, who are also cultivators)?

Flowers in the Palace - this is one of my favorites despite being relatively short! I love WLW wangxian, especially in a historical/canon setting. If you haven't read this one before, this is the series where Wangxian are (platonic) consorts to Emperor Nie Mingjue, and married each other in secret.

Silver Jian Seeking Hearts (aka the TGCF fusion AU where Lan Wangji is a Devastation-class ghost, and Wei Wuxian is reincarnated 400 years post-canon) - what if Mo Xuanyu never summoned Wei Wuxian, and Jin Guangyao's plots resulted in Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen's deaths about a decade after WWX was supposed to have returned?

When the Hills Are All Flat, and the Rivers Run Dry - yet another royalty AU. This one features fem!Wei Wuxian as a bridal candidate for emperor Lan Wangji, who would rather leave governing to his very capable older sister (LXC) and spend his time caring for A-Yuan instead. ;-;

A Wife by Any Other Name - a post Bingge vs. Bingmei fic where Bingge finds a version of Shen Yuan in his own universe eleven years after crossing paths with SY!SQQ in SVSSS. But unlike the version of Shen Qingqiu he met in SV's universe, this Shen Yuan is over a hundred years old, not as easily impressed as a twenty-year-old freshly transmigrated SY might be, and hiding much more about himself than Bingge guesses...