#he is the King of giving us Easter eggs

[harlivy-timkon-supremacy]

GUYS CAN WE **PLEASE** TALK ABOUT THIS

DO YOU GUYS KNOW WHAT DAMIAN GAVE TO EACH OF HIS FELLOW BAT SIBLINGS??? Because these are all real established items in DC canon!!

I’m going to work my way back from Dick, because, OMG. 

Damian gave Dick the Sword of Sin. If that sounded vaguely familiar to you, you might be an Azrael fan because that is his preferred blade to use. What is so special about this sword??? It’s ability:  The Sword of Sin can be ignited with the mind of the wielder, if the person is powerful enough. The sword has the ability to conjure in the mind of its victims all of the sins for which they are guilty or have not atoned for.       Golly gee, I wonder who this might be super effective against. You know. Giant bat guy with a guilt complex bigger than Texas. You can bet your butt Dick is going to send Bruce through a series of ‘Nam war flashbacks before this series is over. I can absolutely see why Damian would give Dick this weapon here, as he’s known Bruce the longest. I can easily see what part in this story Dick is going to be playing as he clearly has the most directly effective weapon against Batman. Damian’s favoritism here is both sweet and a little cruel if you think about the context much. 

Now let’s talk about Stephanie’s weapon, and yes she very much is Damian’s older sibling even if she isn’t a Wayne. Damian gave her the Coup-Stick of Black Bison (A DC Super Villain.) What can this staff do???   The mystical power of the coup-stick can animate material objects and in so doing, command these objects to do its bidding. This power cannot affect living biological material, but can affect non-living organic tissue. Black Bison once used the coup-stick to re-animate the stuffed remains of a white stallion (as well as other animals). Black Bison has also used the coup-stick to control the weather, such as summoning a strong wind to deflect attackers.      Guys Damian gave Stephanie a weapon that will allow her to call on back-up, and COMMAND her own creations, a weapon that allows her to be a leader!! Something she has wanted for a long time??? Also, it sounds like it has the power to control the weather??? Damian really said #girlboss and how much he loves her without actually saying it. I cannot stress enough how well DC could do her justice in this series if they at least tried.

Now, wow. Damian really straight up gave Jason’s dramatic ass the actual Trident of Poseidon, which is an unbreakable weapon that that serves as an extension of the wielder’s own power. Damian really gave Jason not only a King’s weapon, but a godly weapon. What other powers it has might not be relevant to whatever power it might awaken with Jason as its wielder.       Damian really cut out the middle man and just said, “Look, you are stupidly strong. I’m going to give you a stupidly strong weapon. Have at ye!” And you know Jason is going to wield that thing like he’s Poseidon, rightful ruler of the sea. I literally cannot wait to see Jason just absolutely power-housing his way through whatever gets in his way.  

Lastly, but not least in the slightest, Damian gave Tim the Cloak of Cagliostro! Which I want to acknowledge right off the bat, 🎶one of these things is not like the others~🎶 And thank Rao for that, because:  The Cloak of Cagliostro is a magical item which allows the wearer to teleport, and to become intangible, and invisible.      That is the *cutest* Easter Egg ever! Gotham Knights acknowledgement of Tim’s teleporting anyone????? Tim was the only one Damian gave a defensive weapon, and not an offensive weapon to. And that makes sense, because Tim is a defensive fighter! Tim never has to be the strongest person in the room. He just needs to be clever enough to use what he knows to win. Instead of giving him a weapon to swing around, Damian gave him something that Tim could use to protect himself, and actively use to make ALL of his skillsets stronger, not just his fighting power!!! This! Is! NOT! Damian looking down on Tim or considering him weaker. He’s playing to Tim’s strengths! He literally gave his big brother a cloak that straight up is like a cheat-code of meta-powers that would suit Tim SO WELL, because he knows Tim will be able to use those abilities to bullshit levels of effectiveness!! 

It genuinely looks like thought went into what weapons each of the Robins were given. I know fanon likes to bash on Damian or bash on his relationship to his siblings, or vice-versa, but in canon it has been clear for some time now that Damian considers all former and current Robins his family. (Including Tim. He refers to Tim as Timothy nowadays, and calls him his brother, that’s not fanon) No matter if Damian is not himself right now, he’s genuinely looking out for all of their best interests, and is ensuring that each one of them is as well-equipped as possible. 

Regardless, genuinely curious to see how each of these weapons will be used by their respective Robins, and how this will all end up. Hopefully, it ends with a giant group hug that will break the internet. (Also, ngl, I hope if Tim gets a new superhero identity soon his new suit will play off of Gotham Knight’s Tim’s abilities or be based off this cloak. Just think that would be neat ✨)

#batfam #batman #robin #damian wayne #dick grayson #stephanie brown #jason todd #tim drake #batman vs robin #gotham knights #meta analysis #nightwing #red hood #the spoiler #dc comics #bruce wayne #also I got my info on the weapons from dc wiki #still reeling over how cool this stuff is #comic spoilers

[laststandx3]

There are many bad things about wish, but one of the most annoying is how it fails to pay off its own set ups.

It's established Asha's father believes in the magic from the stars. He died of an illness (never specified), that Asha's grandfather (her father's father) never got his wish granted in YEARS, well now to me this feels targeted.

Follow my thoughts for a minute, how easy would have been with this already established set up to add the part where it's Magnifico who killed Asha's dad because he was promoting a different kind of magic that would undermine Magnifico's power? This would've established Magnifico as an actual villain from the start, manipulating people's perception of him with magic and the lengths he would go to keep his power and crown.

This would have impacted Asha's journey as well,instead of asking Magnifico to grant her grandfather's wish immediately (which imo is a good reason for him not to hire her, she literally asks for favoritism the moment she arrives), let her instead be perfect for the position, not clumsy and awkward but make her qualified and respectful of the king's secrecy about the wishes. And still she's still not hired. And then she starts questioning him, she's studied, she's ready and it's not enough and the king seemed to like her until she mentioned her father.

And then she talks with the people of rosa about the king, if that was unfair of him maybe , but the answer is that the king is good and kind and doesn't he grants everyone's wishes, isn't that so wonderful of him? (and maybe this can be a song) and at first it sounds like she just doesn't want to accept that she wasn't chosen but after the forth person answers the same exact thing, well then this starts to feel more like a script than an original thought. Just then she looks at all the wishes Magnifico's granted so far and they're all material, it's all about people owning bigger houses, better clothes, riches, nothing is about community, knowledge, about people becoming something(musicians, teachers, scientists, artists...) . The guy that got his wish granted last year also got it granted a few years ago too, Isn't that weird? Some people never get their wishes and this guy twice? And also his wish was so selfish? He wanted a swimming pool! How in the best kingdom, with the best king, nobody wishes nice things for others? And isn't that weird that she and her friends used to make graffitis and jokes on the guards but when Sleepy gave away his wish at 18 suddenly he doesn't make jokes about Magnifico's beard anymore? He's so respectful of the rules now.

And idk maybe Asha doesn't just wish upon a star and everything is given to her. Maybe Magnifico's source of magic is Star and she frees it and that's why Star tags along. The magic of the starts was real, her father was right! Star knew her dad, he tried to save the magical pet but he was killed instead! Now it's not just about freedom and justice she wants revenge. And this is maybe when she fucks up because she was too reckless, she got discovered. Her friends/family are watching how she's getting arrested/executed for treason and that's SO UNFAIR such a cognitive dissonance it breaks Magnifico's brainwash spell.

Now a song about revolution makes sense. But singing about revolution bc they want to be able to wish? Are you kidding me? Not only the movie established that you can have new wishes and that they make you whole again, but also girl, you all read the terms of services when giving Magnifico your wish. You give it to him and if he finds it worth it, it'll be granted. Making questions about the king choices is the opposite of living under a monarchy.

Ultimately I agree with everyone who says this movie feels empty, because it's true, it's a bunch of disney trope stitched together with easter eggs that don't makes us feel anything and that contradicts its own message. The fact that disney doesn't want to make grey characters anymore it's felt. And it mirrors the way people have started to see enjoying stories as media consumption, everything that alludes to people being flawed is an endorsement of abuse. So disney's characters have all turned is these empty shells of heroine tropes. They're always bubbly, their worst flaw is being clumsy, but the worst is that they're always right. Asha's quest to free the wishes is based only on her conviction that the king is wrong in not granting everyone's wish. It's never even hinted in the movie that the subjects of rosa lack something. It's a fairy-tale kingdom in every aspect (maybe the king is a bit egocentric but that hasn't hurt anyone so far), except that her grandpa's wish wasn't granted and so the king must be wrong. If it wasn't for Magnifico's long exposition of I don't accept criticism she wouldn't have questioned him. And even then, that's what living in a kingdom means, that you follow the king's rules. I'm sorry but singing about revolution and then ending the movie still under a monarchy is just contradictory with the whole premise.

#wish spoilers #disney wish #Wish 2023 #Wish rewrite #Asha #Magnifico #Grey characters? Not in disney anymore #Where is the flynn Ryder type? Starts selfish becomes a better person #Elsa's self discovery? Anna growing out of idealized people #Moana tries to live on land to make her parents proud! It's only when her grandma gives her the heart that she leaves #Mulan disappoints her parents and leaves to save her dad #Not every plot has to involve the fate of a kingdom. Sometimes it can just be one person #Mulan pretending to be a man is still seen as a terrible thing by the society she lives she doesn't change everyone's mind just the people #She actually interacted with. Yeah and the emperor but she literally saved his life. He'd better be forgiving

[lttawnymadison]

TGCF Revised Version Afterword by MXTX

Since I kept seeing snippets of this, I wanted to read the whole thing for myself. I'd already bought the book on JJWXC and did an MTL for this. It's so wonderful that she's back and sharing new things and that the revised is finally done! - Tawny --------------------------------------------- The author has something to say:

Seeing the small red clay stove again.

———— Afterword of "Heaven Official's Blessing" 2022

■ Finally done!

Long time no see! It's another afterword starting with "finally." Without further ado, seasoned readers would know that I make substantial revisions. For instance, scenes like the Bai Feng Mountain Hunt and the ending recognition of Sizhui in the serial version of "Mo Dao Zu Shi" were not originally there.

The revisions in "Heaven Official's Blessing" are the most extensive of all my works. It was a huge project, as it is also the longest in terms of length, serialized over eight months. Due to poor health and other reasons, the revision process was interrupted for a long time before I picked it up again, and it sporadically took about five to six months over several years.

In the era of web novels, there are endless new entertainments, and honestly, not many people re-read a story. Plus, some problems in the serialized version are structural and can't be changed, but I still tried my best to address my regrets. After all, when I was serializing it, I was almost always in a feverish and sick state, barely pushing through. Additionally, I often enjoy comparing different versions of my favorite authors' works back and forth, finding pleasure in the process. So, for readers, discovering "Wow, this part has changed!" is like starting a new journey with Easter eggs in a second round.

■ The new revised version includes about 100,000 words of new content!

These 100k words are mainly concentrated in the latter half of Volume 1 and Volume 3, but there are plenty scattered throughout the text. For example, I fulfilled a promise to A-Hua, giving him several new outfits. Seeing A-Hua dressed beautifully in a new hairstyle to meet his gege made me happy.

In terms of the intensity of revisions, personally, I feel it goes like this:

Volume 1 and Volume 2 > Volume 3 > Volume 5 > Volume 4.

Additionally, the new version cuts some redundant words and plots that weren't very meaningful. However, I tried to keep all the original interactions between Hua Lian as complete as possible. If some minor interactions are missing, they weren't deleted but moved around.

■ One day, I suddenly dug out something.

An antique from 2017, a folder called "Heaven Official's Blessing Setting Collection."

Curiously, I opened it and read with interest.

● Comparing the original setting outline and the main text, the highest fidelity is in the main storyline between Hua Cheng and Xie Lian.

A-Hua, restored at a ratio of 1:100.

Hua's character setting is the most detailed, and virtually every point made it into the main text, including details like "ghosts don't like the sun, so Hua Cheng sometimes drapes a red cloth over his head"...

Points not used, listed a few:

As a child:

· After being saved from falling off a city wall, he foolishly followed a parade over and over again, grabbing people to ask, "Who is that? Who is that person?" People told him, "That's the royal son, the future Celestial God, the most outstanding Crown Prince of Xianle Nation ever!"

(This point couldn't be used because in the text A-Hua was held in the Crown Prince's arms after being saved)

· At home, he was often punished to stand or kneel, not given food, and wore old clothes, accused of stealing money. Whenever he argued with his family, he would stubbornly sleep in the Prince's temple overnight.

· Went to Mount Tai Cang to volunteer sweeping red leaves at Huangji Observatory, just to sneak peeks at his future wife happily swinging.

After becoming the ghost king:

· One of his hobbies is buying and building houses everywhere.

· Very protective of his leather boots, would (badly) polish them until they shone.

· To other devout followers of Xie Lian, he said: "You have good taste."

· Secretly prepared many betrothal gifts for his beloved god, wanting to marry him!

The character setting of Xie Lian as a teacher in the serialized version compared to the initial draft, the serialized text subtly differs. The initial draft was more... exquisite and elegant, very serious. The serialized text is more... humorous. I think perhaps because some plot points were tragic, Xie Lian thought he should be happier to make the readers more relaxed, so he drove me to adjust his mental state! But due to the spiritual oppression at that time, the character's depth was not enough, while in the new revised version, I hope he can show a more self-content state on the same core basis.

Excerpts from the unused original setting:

· Super easy-going. Easy-going means: if given fifty bucks, he would happily dress in drag and dance. Accepts haggling. Thirty bucks works. Twenty bucks too!

· The observatory is small, the house is broken, wants to grow flowers. Leaks during rain, so he uses a bucket to catch rainwater.

· Because he can't afford a caretaker, he cleans himself, and also feeds chickens. Chickens eat flowers. Keeps a cat.

· Completely engrossed in discussing serious matters, he unknowingly finished all the broken sweet dumplings!

● Water, Earth, Wind original setting:

The highest fidelity is the main line between Hua Cheng and Xie Lian, followed by the Water, Earth, Wind subplot.

The main conflict hasn't changed. Just... how could the original setting of Water, Earth, Wind be so dark and terrifying!

The character morals in the main text improved a lot, otherwise, the original Black Water would be sheer scheming + murderous! The ending for the Wind Master would have been more tragic.

The Plain Speech True Immortal [TL note- maybe this is the Venerable of Empty Words - 白话真仙] suddenly became an improvised character. It seemed like an ancient fable-like monster, making the main text more interesting than the original setting.

Overall, the formal version is a bit better written than the original draft.

● The unfortunate life of Lang Ying:

Lang Ying? Is there such a character? I don't remember!

Ah? It seems there was such a person, but I don't remember any of his plotlines.

This is most people's feeling towards the character of Lang Ying. It's not a delusion because he barely had any significant plot. In fact, any valuable scenes could have been replaced equivalently, so in the new revised version, I deleted this character.

But, in the 2017 setting collection, I suddenly found that I had actually opened a separate document for Lang Ying, and his role was defined as a "growing-type BOSS!"

I was silent.

And immediately opened the document, curious about my initial setting. A "growing-type BOSS," how did he become someone whose deletion went unnoticed...? (I even don't know how to address him!)

Who knows, perhaps out of excitement, I accidentally pressed the wrong shortcut, and somehow it became irreversible, leaving only an empty document for me to stare in disbelief. The once "growing-type BOSS" has now forever become a mystery!

This is the unfortunate life of the deleted Lang Ying.

· There was another document in the setting collection called "Swordsmith." I opened the document and read it with interest.

I was shocked. Because I completely forgot I had conceived this story. Why didn't I write it?!

Darn.

I know why I didn't write it. This story... it had no ending!

——————— Thus, the magical glimpse into the "Heaven Official's Blessing Setting Collection" concludes!

■ I like men with stories!

Maybe because I watched an outstanding work as a child. It was a memoir, the protagonist in the biography was gentle and affable, and the protagonist in the memories was cold and ruthless. The story was scattered with the poignant fragrance of white plum blossoms amidst bloody and stormy circumstances.

This almost perfect work deeply influenced my aesthetics, leading me to be most interested in the memory parts of characters in various works. Although many viewers prefer the present scenes, often asking when the memories will end, I actually find these intense and painful memories to be the most fascinating!

A story is the history of a character, as well as the key to their personality. A person with a story stands before me like a puzzle. The way to solve this puzzle is to understand their story. Because the biography makes one curious to know more about a character they like, loving them more now because of their past. When serializing "Heaven Official," my greatest pain initially was telling myself, "This time I don't want to write a memory slaughter," deliberately trying to avoid a structure similar to previous works, yet I still hadn't found a better way to express it, resulting in my deep dissatisfaction with the later part of Volume 1. I was also hesitant to fully commit to the memory scenes in Volume 2, and with the heavy mental burden, this part was very painful to write. When revising, looking at Volume 2 was almost unbearable, because I'm the type of person who, as a child, would immediately switch channels when a TV show's protagonist was about to be wrongfully accused or embarrassed. I couldn't help but knock on a friend's door and ask:

Me: Was the author suffering some kind of mental trauma at the time? This negative energy is too horrifying, the protagonist is so pitiful, I really admire anyone who could read through Volume 2 completely.

Friend: Do you even have the right to say that?

But the memory slaughter in Volume 4 was much freer, written in one breath, so the revisions for this volume were also the least.

So, will you still write large segments of memory slaughter?

Um, well, we'll see, haha, hehe...

■ Closing Remarks:

Lastly, I'll address the question some asked me, "Will the new revised 'Heaven Official's Blessing' be more torturous?"

Me: You're talking nonsense. 'Heaven Official's Blessing' is a sweet pampering story, thank you!

Acknowledgments:

Shi Nai'an wrote in the preface to "Water Margin": "On snowy nights, about five or six people listen to my storytelling; on rainy days, about seven or eight; on bright and sunny days, about ten. I read, everyone listens, and we are all happy, with no other thoughts." When I read this as a young person, I was delighted. What divine days! Writing first to entertain oneself, then to entertain others. Self-expression and self-acceptance are certainly primary, but the affection of others is also a significant positive feedback. Thus, first, I thank the steadfast readers who have accompanied me all this time. I've thought about just walking away amidst the noisy disputes; abandoning the account amidst the tumultuous world! It seems not bad. But looking back, I can't bear to leave some truly sincere readers.

I've had authors I liked disappear from the internet, and I always feel like a part of my youth has vanished, a feeling quite distressing, reminiscent of overly grand and harsh things like the tears of the era or the torrent of history. So, I want to accompany my readers as long as possible, hoping that the day of parting comes later. Perhaps I'm not good enough now, but I will strive to be better in the future. Or perhaps you've never truly understood what kind of person I am, or even completely misunderstood me, but as long as you genuinely like my stories, we can sit down and chat.

And, I must mention my friends, who can be described as having the courage of a hero. Long time no see, Teacher Changyang's illustrations are still as beautiful as those of a celestial being, I hope Teacher CAS can go to bed earlier and worry less, and Teacher Kuohao, who despite a heavy workload, still fully honored our agreement. The "Heaven Official's Blessing" radio drama is really fantastic! It reminded me of the original intention of writing this story, and I was very moved. If it weren't for the silent companionship and efforts of these old friends, Mo Xiang Tong Xiu might have stopped writing back in 2016, disappearing from the world of martial arts, and thus, "Heaven Official's Blessing" would not have been born. I look forward to retracing the paths we once walked together when gathering ideas. And many friends who reached out to help and encourage me, thank you for accompanying me through the snowy nights.

#tgcf #tian guan ci fu #hob #heaven official's blessing #墨香铜臭 #mxtx #mo xiang tong xiu #天官赐福 #tgcf revised version #mine

[waitineedaname]

Finally, after months of work, I have completed it: the collection of all* character appearances in Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood!

edit: if you want a more detailed spreadsheet on the homunculi in particular, @vuullets has a collection of all homunculi appearances in the manga! you can find it here

Some notes on this spreadsheet:

there are spoilers. obviously. proceed with caution

timestamps indicate when a character first appears in a scene, not every time they appear. if the scene changes to one without that character, and then we return to that character in another scene, that's another timestamp for a new appearance

all timestamps are approximate, give or take a few seconds based on how quickly I could pause the show

only unique flashbacks count as an appearance. if the flashback is to something we've seen in a previous episode, that is not counted as a unique appearance, but if it provides something new that we haven't seen before, it counts!

I didn't include background easter egg appearances, like when you can see Mei in the background at a train station before she's introduced

I didn't actually do all characters. there are a lot of characters, and I am just one person. sorry if you're a big fan of minor members of the military, i just couldn't do it

since Greed is kind of a special case, he deserves a specific explanation: OG Greed and Greedling are not counted as separate characters, they're both just Greed. when Greed is in control of Ling's body, that counts as an appearance for Greed, and it's not an appearance for Ling unless he's in control. if they're both in a scene together (talking in the mindscape, for example, or switching control back and forth) they each get a timestamp for when they first appear/speak in a scene

feel free to use this as a reference! I made this as a useful tool for myself, and because I'm a nerd about data. if you are also a nerd about data, I tallied up some stats, which I'll put under the cut:

only six characters broke 30 episodes. the characters with the most appearances are Edward (60), Alphonse (58), Mustang (45), Hawkeye (42), Scar (40), and Winry (31).

next highest on the list are Alex Armstrong and Mei (tied for 29), King Bradley (28), Hohenheim (26), and Ling (25).

the homunculus in the most episodes is Wrath (28), and the one in the least is Lust (11)

as previously mentioned, Alex Armstrong and Mei are in the same number of episodes (29), as are Olivier Armstrong and Marcoh (24), and Buccaneer and Ross (18)

Hughes is in only 10 episodes, the same number as Grumman and Fu

Yoki is in a whopping 23 episodes. what the fuck

the chimera in the most episodes is Zampano (21), closely followed by Darius and Jerso (20), with Heinkel falling behind at 16. The Devil's Nest chimeras are only in 2 episodes, with the exception of Bido, who is in 3

#fma #fmab #fullmetal alchemist #I feel like I should make a specific tag for when I do. stuff like this. #I love. spreadsheets. I love data collection #anyway please enjoy! I've been working on this for six months! #sol collects data #<- I've decided that will be my tag #tallying up appearances made me mad. which is not a surprise to me #scar is in 40 episodes and yet the fandom bias completely sidelines him. I'm not mad. I feel normal about this. <- seething #I guess I'm also guilty of paying more attention to characters in fewer episodes considering greed is in only 18 episodes #BUT STILL. justice for my guy scar. he's an extremely prominent character and should be treated as such

[ordinaryschmuck]

*Sighs*...Okay, yeah, Wish really IS bad

And I didn't want to go in thinking that. I went in with the most optimistic view possible. Because with EVERYONE treating this movie as the worst thing possible, a POX upon the house of mouse itself, I went in thinking that there's no WAY it's THAT bad. So when I finally watched, I decided...I was right. It's NOT that bad. But...Well...Let's get into it.

This is the part where I'd say "Positives First," to show off what worked before picking apart what didn't. Except that, aside from a few little moments and easter eggs that made me go, "Aw, that's cute," I'm coming up EMPTY. Every single thing--And I do mean EVERY SINGLE THING in this movie, from the animation, songs, characters, story, themes, ideas, and even EXECUTIONS...is ALMOST good. Every single aspect of this film ALMOST worked. The pieces are there and I can see just how this film could have been the masterpiece that was a CENTURY in the making. The problem is that there's ONE THING holding it back: Not enough time. And I don't just mean that the movie should have been longer. No, I mean that this movie needed another YEAR of production to tighten up EVERYTHING. Why's that? Well, let's go in order of the things I mentioned.

The animation is clearly trying to go for this mixed-medium style that movies like Puss in Boots: The Last Wish or Spider-Verse popularized. Those movies mixed hand-drawn animation with 3D models, making storybook illustrations or comic book art feel ALIVE. That's sort of Wish is going for. I hear people say that Disney's 100 year celebration should have been completely hand drawn to call back to their early years, but I tend to disagree. I think Disney making a movie that's mixed-medium is a better way to honor its one hundred years, taking the animation that made Disney huge and mixing it with modern CGI as a way to make it feel like a celebration of the old AND new. EXCEPT that it doesn't really look good, aside from certain screenshots. There are SOME still images where if you paused the movie at the right time you can get something that looks like a 2D image with CG touch-ups. For the rest of the movie, it looks like a modern CGI Disney film with a storybook filter slapped on it. It doesn't look TOO BAD when your eyes get used to it, but it doesn't stop the movie from feeling like it ALMOST hit the right mark. The only times it REALLY works is with Star.

Wha--No. No, not that one. That's the wrong Disney character named Star.

There he is. There's my little guy.

But look at him. He's a 3D character with hand-drawn touch-ups that really makes him feel like a 2D character brought to life. If the whole movie looked like HIM, then it would have been a revolutionary achievement for Disney. But it doesn't. Instead, it feels like a missed opportunity that would have worked better if they had more time to animate this film instead of leaving their animators scattered to the winds to make half-assed sequels or forcing out one to two projects every year.

There should have also been more attention given to the songs because...Oh my gosh, they're bad. They SOUND nice, I love the instrumentals and the POWER these people put into the vocals. "This Wish" and its reprise successfully gives me chills through how well they're sang and how epic the instruments make them. But the LYRICS...are messy. When you sit down and actually LISTEN to what's sung, it all just...BLEH. That's the best way I can describe it, I'm sorry! It's BLEH!

Why would a king in a fairytale kingdom in the distant past sing, "You're sure you're not the prob?"

"Throwing caution into every warning sign" doesn't come across as a person freeing herself from her insane king's vague warnings but ADHERING to them.

The way that Asha and King Magnifico sing about protecting wishes makes it sound like they're singing to EACH OTHER.

And "You're A Star." OH BOY! The song that's meant to explain how these animals can magically talk is just filled with allegories and allusions that think they explain EVERYTHING only to explain NOTHING. It's just vague nonsense that, again, SOUNDS nice, but offers no real substance. On its own, I guess I can get into it, but to tell a story, it falls apart. Because that's the difference when it comes to writing a regular song and writing a musical: You're not just making a good song, you're telling a story through MUSIC. Wish's soundtrack is one that's filled with catchy songs, but not ones that properly move the story forward. Not to mention how they're so jarringly out of character in cases like "This is the Thanks I Get." When Disney released the soundtrack, that was my favorite song because I felt like it perfectly fit this smug, egotistical prick who thought he was the best person alive. Turns out that's not what Wish was going for...Not entirely.

Magnifico feels like he's meant to be a mix between Gaston and Maleficent. A character that has a huge ego and loves himself more than anything, but has an incredible amount of power to make himself a threat. If done right, a villain like that could stand up to be with some of Disney's best. And, yeah, like everything else in this movie, he ALMOST works. When he's finally a villain, he's campy and over the top, making him entertaining...But notice how I said "When he's finally a villain." That's because Magnifico doesn't really become what he's meant to be until halfway through the movie. He starts off as a King with good intentions but paranoid ideals that doesn't make him evil, it makes him feel like a guy who needed evidence to prove that other magic isn't a threat. By the time he finally acts more like a Disney villain, it was such a jarring left turn that his sudden switch-up made me feel like it was somehow a nightmare sequence from Asha. He's NOTHING like the guy he starts out as, and it's not a natural change that flows well throughout the film. That's mainly because the story has a pacing problem worse than any movie I've seen. If King Magnifico's path to the dark side was slow and gradual, showing signs of his worst qualities first and make them more apparent as the film goes on, he would have worked INCREDIBLY. Instead, it comes across as his villainy was activated like someone flipped a switch in his brain that says, "Be evil now." It's the absolute REVERSE of a bad redemption story, mixed with a lazy explanation that it was dark magic that made him more corrupt when he should have been evil since minute one. And you want to know the worst part? He's probably the best character in this.

Asha...isn't bad. She's your standard quirky nice girl protagonist that Disney just LOVES to use, especially lately. It's just that Asha doesn't have that "Gets stuff done" attitude like Moana or Mulan, nor does she have the infectious charm like Maribel or Anna. Asha, instead, is a lot like her breakout song: Nice and enjoyably, but doesn't stand out from the biggest hits. As for her animal sidekick Valentino...He's not annoying, but he's not funny either. Honestly, his comedy peaked when it was revealed that this cute baby goat sounded like Clayface from that Harley Quinn cartoon. A joke, by the way, that got spoiled by the trailers, so it's not really AS funny in the movie. Honestly, Asha's SEVEN FRIENDS are funnier at times. Speaking of, those characters are very clearly meant to be the Seven Dwarfs. And it is VERY distracting because not only does it feel like only two or three of them are necessary to the plot, but they're the ONLY major reference that the movie shines a light on when it comes to Disney's history.

Would I have wanted this entire movie to be nothing but references of past Disney movies? Of course not. That's not how movies work. But Wish seems to have this problem where it doesn't really COMMIT to honoring Disney's legacy. The most it does is give the Seven Dwarfs human OCs, make them supporting characters, and throws in tiny little easter eggs here and there. Again, some of them are cute, but it's not enough. The same goes for when Wish tries to honor some of the tropes and cliches that Disney popularized. It's an animated musical with talking animals, a campy villain, an objectively pretty protagonist, and goofy sidekicks. But it takes more than ADDING that stuff to your movie in order to honor them. You need to look at what made those tropes and cliches work in the first place and make something that calls back to those classic films while still having something new to say. And Wish almost--ALMOST--has something new to say.

With everything surrounding King Magnifico and how he got more power with people's wishes, I almost thought Wish was going to be a film that called out modern Disney. At least, modern CORPORATE Disney, a company that takes ideas and thoughts created by dozens of talented people, twists them into something unrecognizable, and refuses to give those ideas back when choosing to do NOTHING with this great idea leaves them free of competition. And to stop something evil like that, you must make something of your own and work hard to make your idea yours instead of letting someone more powerful take it from you. I thought that would have been a GREAT message...But of course DISNEY wouldn't want a movie calling them OUT for their one hundred year victory lap. So, instead, we have a message that tries to get the same idea across, but in a simplified way where the wishes are taken LITERALLY and that the only way to get what you want is to wish hard enough for it. That is...NOT the message I want kids to learn from this as it often leads to bad expectations. If this movie tried an ironically anti-Disney message in ANY OTHER year, it would have a better chance of getting away with it. But for a hundred year celebration, there was no chance in hell.

Wish is NOT Disney's worst movie, but it's nowhere near the best. I love SO MANY of the ideas and what it TRIES to do, but there's a difference between good ideas and good executions. It was ALMOST good, but Wish was not the movie anybody was really wishing for...

#disney #wish critical #quick thoughts #what i thought about

[angrybutpolite]

give me COFFEE or give me DEATH

The coffee debate bugs me. It’s distracting. I think, like a lot of others, that the Blatantly Obvious is staring us in the face: Metatron gave Aziraphale an ultimatum: Accept the position (coffee) or Crowley gets erased from the Book of Life (dies). 

That is why Aziraphale abruptly switches from the calm “I don’t want to go back to heaven” (42.15) to the frantic, slightly terrified, being we see immediately after. 

33:27:  Metatron: “Do people ever ask for death?” Nina: “What?” Metatron: “The name of your establishment, ‘Give me coffee or give me death’ - I assume they always ask for coffee?” Nina: “They don’t ever ask for death, no.” Metatron: “I don’t suppose they do. So predictable”

Reminder: we do not see the conversation, we only hear about it from Aziraphale.

An ultimatum would shift the narrative. It opens the door wider on a couple of theories, and shuts others. I will be coming back to those.  

For the sake of balance: Neil apparently spent a considerable part of 2021 finding a name for a coffee shop that hadn’t already been used. It could just be a name. But I doubt it, he is the King of Symbolism and Easter Eggs after all.

(oh, and this is also me digging into every rabbit hole I can find as a mechanism for handling my grief, so…)

#aziracrow #good omens #good omens spoilers #aziraphale #crowley #azicrow #metatron #ineffable husbands #neil gaiman #good omens season 2 #go2 spoilers #coffee #david tennant #michael sheen

[notyourmajesty]

Henry's Dog David, and How RWRB (the Book and the Movie) Explore the Meaning of His Name.

(GIF by @andysapril)

CW: Mentions of deaths, murder attempts, mostly from Bible verses.

An Easter Egg from the book that the film managed to incorporate in an entirely different context.

Henry naming his dog David is one of the things Alex comments on both in the film and the book. He finds the name particularly odd for a pet, and when Henry tells him later that the inspiration was David Bowie, Alex remarks that he could have just used the surname instead.

This is basically just me overthinking the way the book and the film added "David and Jonathan" to two totally different scenes haha.

David Bowie

There has been a lot of debate over Bowie's sexuality since the 70s, and possibly conflicting statements from Bowie himself over the decades, but he did leave quite an impact on queer people in his time (ref: this article). Henry both in the book and in the film has often turned to literature and art for inspiration, and solace, when it came to exploring his own identity as a gay man. All kinds of historical queer identities - both debated and confirmed - show up in the tapestry of people and ideas that have influenced Henry's own thoughts and ideas (Alex's too). So it definitely makes sense that he would name his beloved pet dog after one of those inspirations.

(notably, during Henry's dramatic entrance when Alex comes down to the UK for damage control, the song playing is Bowie's "Up the Hill Backwards". You also see him choose a Queen song for karaoke, which makes me want to really headcanon him as a 70s prog rock fan 😄)

David and Jonathan

In the book, Alex goes over the details of Henry's fact sheet with Nora and his sister June. When he mentions the name of Henry's dog, he claims his dislike for the name is because it sounds more like a "tax attorney" than a beloved pet (Ch 2).

In the film, it's his SS detail Amy who quizzes him. She responds to his quip about Henry's choice of name for a pet by telling him what she's named her own dog. It's a tiny, fun detail with no lasting importance in the film, but I feel it does work within the larger framework of how the film incorporates queer readings and figures too.

I see this as a reference to a popular reading of the Hebrew/Biblical story of David and Jonathan from the 2 books of Samuel. David was a shepherd anointed by the prophet Samuel (through orders from God), to succeed King Saul, and Jonathan was Saul's son who was extremely devoted to David and even saved him from his father's wrath. They were known to have made a covenant to each other soon after they met, and the first Book of Samuel gives us a picture of an immensely close bond between the two:

After David had finished talking with Saul, Jonathan became one in spirit with David, and he loved him as himself. From that day Saul kept David with him and did not let him return home to his family. And Jonathan made a covenant with David because he loved him as himself. Jonathan took off the robe he was wearing and gave it to David, along with his tunic, and even his sword, his bow and his belt. (1 Samuel 18, 1-4)

Interpretations of their relationship have ranged from close friendship to a romantic relationship, and there have been many, many queer readings on this pair.

In Casey McQuiston's RWRB too, Alex references both a saying from the Book of Proverbs (24:13), and the story of David and Jonathan in the same paragraph. This is in Ch 10, when Henry takes Alex to the V&A museum. This particular sequence is in the inner chamber of the museum, shortly after the couple dance to Elton John's "Your Song".

He compares himself and Henry to "a lost David and Jonathan", and it's pretty obvious why when you think of their devotion, and the tragic end of the relationship of the latter. Like Jonathan, Henry is a prince utterly devoted to one man, and sure that his family too will be against their bond. Like David, Alex is an outsider who the royal family may view as a threat to their stability, and therefore must be kept away. David's love for Jonathan is immense: he makes the covenant with Saul's son soon after they meet, and when he mourns Jonathan's death, he says "Thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women." (2 Samuel 1:26).

This amazing post from @elipheleh explores this metaphor more in detail (as well as St. Chiara, and a quote from Oscar Wilde, who is referenced both in the book and the film as a writer Henry is fond of). It also speaks about the verse from the Book of Proverbs that Alex remembers, partly in Spanish, partly in English - Eat honey, my son, for it is good; honey from the comb is sweet to your taste. (Proverbs 24:13-14)

(Jonathan in 1 Samuel also has his own reference to honey - there is a story that chronicles a tense moment between Jonathan and his father, King Saul, due to Jonathan eating wild honey on a day when the troops were bound by an oath to fast (he had not heard the oath himself). He almost faces death by Saul's hand for breaking the oath the latter had made, but is saved by the other people in the troops. (1 Samuel 14: 24-46). I've seen different ways of this passage being interpreted - as either Jonathan being judged for disobeying an oath even though he was not around when it was announced, or Saul being viewed as foolish for making such an oath in the first place. The main point is, Saul is ready to kill his son for breaching a certain protocol, and it is the people who save Jonathan.

Similarly IMO, Henry is prepared to live his whole life in the closet viewing his sexuality as something that would bring shame to his family, but eventually recognizes that he has support. Both within his family (in the form of his mother Catherine and his sister Bea), and in the public eye)

At this point in their lives, Alex and Henry see very little hope that things will get better soon enough for them to unite. It is more than likely that - in their minds - this one romantic visit will be their last for a long, long time. Of course David and Jonathan - who parted ways in the hope of being reunited after the battle with Jonathan's father, and whose friendship/love met a tragic end - would be considered a fitting parallel for the situation Alex and Henry find themselves in.

The book has the space and scope to explore many, many images and symbols that could fit Alex and Henry. Whether it's in the letters they send each other, the references Alex learns more about as he figures out his sexuality. The book can - at the V&A museum - describe the statues the two men linger at in loving detail, making us more aware how poignant their temporary separation will be and how bittersweet this last dance is.

The movie's focus is different - the V&A scene is a (presumably) final, deeply intimate moment that lets Alex see for real the weight of his role in Henry's environment, and how little he expects to see his dreams come true. It also lets Henry see how determined Alex is to make his every dream a reality.

Most moments of highlighting queer literature or history are pocketed away in smaller sequences in the film, as small references and Easter eggs (eg. the books they recommend each other), as the film focuses more on the relationship and it's effects both on the men and the world around them. The V&A is more a visual backdrop for that bittersweet last moment where the two can find equal ground and truly understand each other. I think mentioning the names of the statues would take away from that.

The movie didn't need to include David and Jonathan. Why is why I'm truly, truly grateful that they still did. Even as a tiny, cute Easter egg that is supposed to be banter about weirdly specific pet-naming protocol 💖

#Youtube #Spotify #rwrbmovie #red white and royal blue #alex claremont diaz #henry fox #henry george edward james hanover stuart fox #rwrb movie #henry fox mountchristen windsor #firstprince #taylor zakhar perez #alex x henry #nicholas galitzine #rwrb thoughts

[12freddofrogs]

Look, I didn't actually hate the new Wish movie. I didn't love it, either, but I didn't hate it. Some of the songs were catchy, the more subtle easter eggs were fun to recognise, there was some fun ideas in the magic system.

The thing was, the story had bones in there to be really good, and they missed it. I'm not even necessarily talking about the original concept, about the Star being humanoid (although that would have helped a lot - not even necessarily as Asha's love interest, just that it would have made the Star an actual character instead of a prop). I think what annoyed me more was King Magnifico being set up as well intentioned, and then that was completely forgotten.

He was sympathetic. His goal was to keep his kingdom from burning down. He was traumatised and trying not to let history repeat. And then the movie even went out of its way to inform us that the book - the book he only opened out of desperation - was corrupting, that it was a direct result of a curse that Magnifico was getting crueller, that this curse was permanent, and just... forget about it. Whoops, villain is defeated, toss him in the dungeon without a further thought.

Instead, you know what I think would have done wonders for making the plot more cohesive and fitting together the themes, plus actually tying together that whole "A wish is the most powerful magic!" lore, and even giving what should have been a protagonist but was kinda just a torch a real, actual scene?

Have Star grant Magnifico's first, truest wish.

Not directly, click his fingers fix it. That's against the theme of working for your wish. But have Star pull out of the pile of wishes the one that Magnifico made twenty, thirty years ago when he first pulled up on this little island and put down the first bricks. The wish that no magician, no evil would ever harm this kingdom.

And then, while Magnifico is frozen, staring at his own wish for something more, he looks at the green flames around him and actually, honestly sees them.

They said that curse was unbreakable, but they also said that a wish is the most powerful magic that exists, and this is a star that came down solely to grant it. The wish glows brighter, the green stretches for them, but Star is there and the wish wins. Curse breaks. The world glows again, and there's just a king, collapsed and human again, and Asha is the only one willing to sit next to him as he stares at his kingdom.

And then, just to properly tie the movie back to the beginning, Asha gets the job as the apprentice that she'd been interviewing for. She can keep the wand, sure, fine, but what she needs is to actually study. Her new wish is to be able to help people make their wishes come true, and neither the stars nor the king are going to click their fingers and make that happen for her. Magic takes years to learn, but it turns out Magnifico is actually a pretty good teacher.

If you wanted to finish the movie on her 18th birthday that got mentioned several times as upcoming but never became relevant, that would be thematic. Maybe she makes the wish in private, glowing, pulls it out of her chest to see herself as a fairy godmother, before she puts the wish back into her chest to go back and work on making it real.

#in this au i am imagining that the queen is an actual villain who's been gently encouraging her husband to darker paths for the power #she wants the curse but doesnt want to be cursed so this works for her wonderfully #that way you can still get a villain to defeat more notably than just a book #but it wasnt wholly necessary and i just really wanted to complain about tragic villains when the writers forget its a tragedy #wish 2023 #wish #disney's wish #disney #fanfic #wish 2023 fanfic #i guess? #didnt think id ever use that tab tbqh #king magnifico #magnifico #asha

[sophietv]

The Ultimate Thread Of Koincidences (2021) Part 3

Here's the part 3 of my thread since I reached the photo limit...again.

If you haven't read part two. Go read it before reading this one! (X)

Those are all the Kaylor evidences I could find for that year. If I've forgot some, don't hesitate to tell me so I can add them!

If you haven't read the posts for the other years, I highly suggest you do before reading this one:

Fall 2019 (X)

2020 Part 1 (X)

2020 Part 2 (X)

2021 Part 1 (X)

2021 Part 2 (X)

As always, I'll include link to more informations on certain piece of Kaylor Lore as we go, so some Koincidences are easier to understand. When there's a (X) beside something, it's to give you more context and help you understand better.

Here's the link to the incredible Masterposts that helped me do this one: (X) (X)Afficher davantage

Septembre 2021:

Septembre 17th:

Taylor posts a TikTok hinting at Red (Taylor's Version) and 1989 (Taylor's Version). (X)

She winks with her left eye (Eye Theory) (X)

There's a Glitch in the video.

Glitch easter egg? (X)

People said in the comment that it made them think of the Bad Blood MV...Karlie is in the MV.

At the start of the video. Taylor is painting her nails Red.

A couple of days later in another TikTok we see that she also painted her toe nails red. (X)

Interesting because Karlie posted a video in her Story on Septembre 10th with Red fingers and toes nails. The. Exact. Same. Red.

And it's not over.

Because in that video Taylor wears about the same outfit as when she recorded King Of My Heart...on Karlie's birthday.

Also.

On that day. Taylor releases Wildest Dreams (Taylor's Version).

First song out of 1989 (Taylor's Version) and this song is about Karlie...

And if you zoom in on the shirt. You see that there is double Ks embroided on it.

October 2021:

October 5th:

Eye Theory in Karlie's Instagram's Story:

October 26th:

Taylor posts her fall TikTok. (X)

She wears her famous "Le Duo" necklace with "The artist and The muse" (X)

October 29th:

Eye Theory in Karlie's Instgram's Story. (Still inchteresting red fingernails)

October 31st:

Halloween.

Taylor goes out in the West Village with Blake's children. Dressed up as a Squirrel.

Karlie goes with Levi. Dressed up as Batman.

This is rather interesting...

This was a fanmade cover posted in 2011 (X)

Not their first time cosplaying DC characters...

And it's even more interesting because in her 2019 Musicians On Musicians Interview with Rolling Stone (that we talked about in the 2019 thread). (X)

Taylor talks EXACTLY about that with Paul McCartney.

How he could go spend Halloween with his kids wearing masks...

Here:

Swift: But I think that in knowing him and being in the relationship I am in now, I have definitely made decisions that have made my life feel more like a real life and less like just a storyline to be commented on in tabloids. Whether that’s deciding where to live, who to hang out with, when to not take a picture — the idea of privacy feels so strange to try to explain, but it’s really just trying to find bits of normalcy. That’s what that song “Peace” is talking about. Like, would it be enough if I could never fully achieve the normalcy that we both crave? Stella always tells me that she had as normal a childhood as she could ever hope for under the circumstances.

McCartney: Yeah, it was very important to us to try and keep their feet on the ground amongst the craziness.

Swift: She went to a regular school .…

McCartney: Yeah, she did.

Swift: And you would go trick-or-treating with them, wearing masks.

McCartney: All of them did, yeah. It was important, but it worked pretty well, because when they kind of reached adulthood, they would meet other kids who might have gone to private schools, who were a little less grounded.

November 2021:

November 15th:

I Bet You Think About Me MV.

Sooooo much about that MV.

Taylor's dress being about the same as Karlie's Met Gala one.

Josh's lookalike AND Mickey's.

Taylor "spills" champagne when there's a close up on Mickey's lookalike.

Josh, Mickey and Karlie

Mickey, Karlie and Josh's lookalike

Taylor spills wine while doing a close shot on Mickey's lookalike.

Taylor gives her red Scarf to Karlie's lookalike. And the girl is really pleased by this.

And so much more to say...

Novembre 23rd:

Taylor releases a TikTok of Champagne's Problem (X)

The hand that appears of the person filming is not Blake's hand.

Let's compare Blake's hand with the hand on the video:

Source: purplepinksky on Twitter (X)

And now let's compare Karlie's

Source: purplepinksky on Twitter

December 2021:

December 13th:

Taylor celebrates her birthday and wears the Victoria Secret Angel Ring (X).

Source: 9w1ft

There you have it!

All the Koincidences I could find for 2021.

There was a lot.....

Let me know if some are missing! I'll add them.

#kaylor #lsk #gaylor twitter #koincidences #gaylors #gaylor swift #gaylor theory #gaylor #gaylor of twitter #lgbetty

[rise-my-angel]

A Poisonous Truth (Part Two)

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Female Reader x Ellaria Sand

Length: 23.5k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, smut, oral (f recieving), p in v, m/f/f, graphic descriptions of violence, mentions of past assault/rape, canon character death, canon divergence, sex work/prostitution

Note: Follows more book canon than it does show canon, if you can spot every reference or easter egg you get a free smooch, final part to A Poisonous Truth (Part One)

Quiet and calm are not the right words to use when describing the capitol. King’s Landing is a city filled with life and noise at every corner. From the slums of flea bottom to the shining Red Keep there was hardly a moment one could have to themselves. Yet somehow, the noise had slowly started to disappear. From horrified whispers of a murdered King, it slowed and simmered down to a quick shush as a trial for the accused approached.

The intrigue of the young Joffery falling where he stood from a poison snuck into his drink sent talk all over the streets, giving the poor and curious something to solve, soon gave way to an almost quiet fascination as the accused was named.

Tyrion Lannister, a man known just as much for his mind and prowess, as he was known for the anger and humiliation thrown onto him from his own family. Locked away in the cells as his own family conjured up ways to outwit him, if not in evidence, than simply in numbers against him. The more who spoke against him, the harder it was for the truth to be heard. The truth though, wasn’t what the presiding judge was looking for. The truth was never the goal Tywin Lannister was working towards.

In that strange silence, you found yourself looking behind you once too often. You couldn’t be sure if it was the feeling of being watched, or if it was just your own growing paranoia of being found out. Eyes could be on you everywhere, and it was only a matter of time until someone made the plunge to act on it. Whatever Lord Baelish had planned for you seemed to not matter anymore, or at least not from what you could tell. He leaves the city right after the murder of the king, and soon after that Sansa Stark also disappears? How these events connected you weren’t sure, but you had a feeling you were being kept here until it was time for you to be put to use, rather than just abandoned in the city to fend for yourself.

You weren’t though, not yet at least. Oberyn Martell and his paramour Ellaria Sand served as the only things keeping you grounded, two people who cared about your own well being for the time they spent there. Somehow they carved a way into your heart, filling you with a comforting warmth you’d hardly ever known, but carving that hole means that when they leave, you will be left open and wounded. You wanted to separate your anxieties from your feelings about them, but it hung in the air whenever you were alone. More than one morning you spent alone in the streets before most other people woke up, hoping you could get it all out before returning to the couple and just enjoying your time with them.

If both of them noticed it, Oberyn seemed to be the one it bothered the most. Already up before you this morning, he watched you from his perch near a small table, guiding you over before getting the chance to get ready for the day. He was tempting, his dark brown eyes shone so bright as took you in, not greedily, but almost akin to admiring. Placing your hands on the back of a chair, you raised your eyebrows at him, “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you up so early, if you don’t mind me saying.”

He smiled as he tugs the chair close to his own, watching you move around to join him. “Maybe I wouldn’t be awake so early, if I weren’t busy watching you sneak out every morning before the suns even up.” Casually tossing a berry into his mouth, not an accusation, but something he wanted an explanation for. “The past few mornings, you sneak out thinking no one’s noticed with that solemn, unnerved look on your face.”

Your face falls, eyes closing shut as you take a deep breathe, some of the tension leaving with your exhale. “It’s hard to shake. This...feeling that people are watching me, not knowing who knows or doesn’t and what they want to do with that information. It’s scary.”

Oberyn leans in just slightly, your bodies close enough that his gentle almost whisper can be felt on your skin. “Which part scares you, being watched or not knowing what they want?” Your head shakes. Really, it’s neither.

What’s scary is the after, after someone finds a use for you. How much worse will it be? “What scares me is not knowing which fate is worse. What will happen to me when Baelish, Tywin, one of the people here decides I’m useful to them, or if nothing could be worse than what I’ve already ran from.”

Oberyn’s large hand cups the side of your face, as your own hand flies up to cover his with no hesitation. You could feel the slight stroke of his thumb against your skin, so you moved to lean into his hand more, your hold going from covering his, to gently gripping his wrist, willing him to not go anywhere. “I don’t- how much do you actually know about me? From...before..”

There was a flash of concern, almost bordering on anger in his eyes, before the itensity was blinked away. “I know they mistreated you. Beat you.” Your own eyes widen in surprise, “at least I know your brother did. It’s rare though, for a boy to be that cruel without learning it from his father. I also know that most people described you as quiet but seemed frightened of something. Fair to assume those things are in the same.”

Your grip slipped down onto the table with a thud, Oberyn though only slinked his hand back to rake it through your hair gently. “How could you have known that? No one knows tha-”

His interruption was the same feeling as being thrown into a vat of ice cold water. A chill ran down your spine and buzzed all the way into your fingertips. “The same way I recognized you just weeks ago. I’ve seen you before. Years ago though, you were visiting Dorne,”

Eyes flickering back and forth as you scoured your mind for his image, but nothing came up. You surely would have remembered meeting the man known as The Red Viper during your teenage years. “But, I never saw- you weren’t,”

A soft, almost sad smile formed on his face, as he moved his hand away from you to gather a small bundle of berries onto a plate and sliding it over to you. “I don’t expect you would have. It was your last day, your people getting ready to make the journey home. I’ve always made a point to visit my brother often. Coming to Sunspear is difficult for him now, so I arrived at the Water Gardens just in time to see you.” His gaze turning downward, brows furrowed as the gentle features of his face tightened and clenched. “You were with your brother. Right in your face he was practically spitting on you. You barley saying a word as he tugged your coat right off your shoulders,”

Finally he found your eyes again, face contorted into barley masked anger but his eyes swam with a sadness. “You were covered in bruises. My nephews even commented how warmly you were dressed the entire time, but that was why. Your chest, up and down your arms were marks and bruises. I would have stepped in, but your Uncle showed up and all but threw him out into the courtyard. Doran told me he suspiciously kept you by his side, but the way you clung to him when he showed up?” Oberyns hand picked up the one still flat on the table, flipping it up so his fingers could trace the lines in your palm. “He purposely kept you around him so the others in your family couldn’t hurt you.”

Tears built up in your eyes, threatening to fall at any moment, so Oberyn joined his other hand to keep yours engulfed in his large warm ones, holding just as tight as his gaze on your eyes was. It had almost been long enough that you forgot. The North was cold, it let you hide every mark on you without any question, but that visit to Dorne was warm. The sun beaming onto you in a way that you never got to experience, it upset you that you had to continue wearing the same heavy long clothing just to cover for the actions of your family. Of your father and brother mostly. For the most part, your mother ignored you. Allowing the men of the house to punish you for crimes unknown. “That’s why you knew who I was?”

Oberyn nodded, his chin raising as squinting eyes watch behind you, no doubt looking at the awakening Ellaria, as the sounds of shuffling sheets filled the silence in between. “You were young then, but not much has changed.”

Patter of feet preceded arms slinking across your chest, long black curls falling into your vision. “Not quite the same I imagine, now you are older, much more beautiful.” Her lips giving a teasing bite to your ear before finding her own seat, Oberyn sneaking a kiss as she passed him by. “He mentioned you,” head nodded to the side, “him and Doran, after word of your passing floated down. You two talked for quite a while afterwards, didn’t you?”

He nodded in agreement. “Doran was suspicious, they said you simply fell ill and passed quickly but,” taking a breathe, and exhaling the remaining hostile memories, “You don’t see a girl with bruises like that and expect us to accept that you died naturally. We both knew you had either somehow run, or we were being lied to about how it happened. Seeing you that day, I was relieved to find out it was the former.”

Steel eyes sat harsh on a spot of nothing in front of you, memories replaying in your mind as you could feel the blood boil in your body. “Not for a lack of trying.”

You knew Oberyn wanted more, but it was too early. You couldn’t handle this right now. Ellaria might try to pry something from you later, but Oberyn needed to focus. A lucrative position on the small council, and a trial approaching rapidly should take up his attention. So you change the subject. Telling Ellaria of a strip of market you could take her to. Allowing yourself to loosen up at the playful grins and warm wandering eyes she generously gives, and trying to will Oberyn not to do this right now.

You knew something was brewing, but you didn’t know what or when it would heat too far so just maybe you wanted to pretend. Act as if there was no issue. Oberyn was the more intense of the pair, he would get out of you what he intended to in time, but for now, you watched him relax like you. Enjoying the peace before a day, that for him, was another cog in his future. Just gathering pieces for a machine that, to you, was yet unknown.

For a while, that peace did come. The sun bearing down over the city, still somewhat clouded by the darker cramped streets, but there did seem to be more life then in the days past. Ellaria standing tall and beautiful by your side, her arm linked with yours as you passed through the streets, her making comments about where certain vendors got their products and how egregious their selling point was. “How are you so comfortable wherever you go? You always seem to just be at ease.”

Her smile lit up her face as she tugged your body in closer to hers. “Most people are the same no matter where you go. Of course the further north you go, the more rigid and strict the Lords and highborns get, but I’ve always found the normal people to be the same. People who have no stake in the bigger picture, so they all just want to enjoy life.”

Her hair tickling the side of your face as she leans to the side more, muttering into your ear much quieter, “Besides, I really couldn’t care less about what people in power think of me. I enjoy my life, how many of them can say the same?”

It was a wish you had yourself, to look at your life and say you are happy with how it’s turned out but that was not what the Gods had in store for you. Born on fire, and now you lay trapped in a city determined to make you burn from it. “I know the feeling.” Ellaria turned to look at you but your eyes trained forward, “The last time I felt anywhere near happy was just after I left. On my own, travelling in cold woods and staying hidden, but it was just me. Anything that happened to me, was now on me. No one else. Regardless of what led me there.”

Jolting back you see Ellaria stopped, her gentle hands cradling the sides of your face, “And how about right this moment?”

Oh she had set a trap and you were willingly about to step right on it. It was hard to deny her, like she radiated temptation, but one that felt like the only temptation she was offering was relief, so you took her bait. “I’m sure I could find a way to make it better.”

Leaning in to meet her lips, you could feel a smile on her fighting against her movement. Tender lips caressing yours, only to lean in for more as you pull away. A playful glare directed towards you as you smirk, tugging her back to link arm in arm and continue your path. A few more stares than beforehand only this time you could count on them meaning nothing to smallfolk. A beautiful foreigner kissing a common whore in the streets, not exactly gossip to chew on.

No, the only watchful eye this time was from an approaching figure. Tall with a shaved head, studious eyes taking in everything as if they all spoke some kind of secret. A whisper more accurately, a man with such mystique only he could hold such a title.

Ellaria smiled brightly at him as he found himself in front of you, both of you giving small versions of a curtsy, more of a slight bend down though, neither of you rather bothered with perfect formality. You weren’t sure if who you played as should know him, but the role meant nothing. If Lord Baelish knew who you were, then Lord Varys certainly isn’t fooled. So you settled, “My Lord.”

The slithery voice was unlike how Baelish’s was. With the later, it was one drenched in slime and mistrust. Lord Varys was more smooth, like every word was spoken carefully with distinct meaning. He nodded to you first, “My Lady,” before turning to Ellaria. “And of course you must be-”

“Ellaria Sand. If I’m not mistaken, you must be Lord Varys.”

Seemingly humble, he brushes it off. “Please, just Varys. I’m not actually Lord of any House.”

Ellaria herself had a gaze that seemed to match his own, watching like a raven as she puts whatever pieces of information she’s gathered together. “I’m also no Lady, and yet we call each other as such anyways.” Vary’s eyes seemed to raise just slightly, impressed or surprised it was difficult to read. He was a hard man to read, no doubt an image carefully carved out intentionally.

Curious eyes on hers as well, “Yes. We do. So wonderful to meet you, Prince Oberyn has spoken very highly of you, and I can see why.” Uniform but polite until suddenly Varys turns to your attention, calling you by the name you hide behind, as if you’ve ever met each other in the city. “If you wouldn’t mind, I was hoping we could have a word in private.”

Heart pounding while your body turned to stone, he has no reason to speak to who you are here. No, you know it’s her he wants to speak to. The one you hide. But you deflect, “Flattered my Lord, but I’m not quite sure my services are up to your kind of requirements.”

Just a smile. No, he wasn’t fooled one bit. “I assure you it will only take a moment, if that is alright with your companion here of course.”

Her grip on your arm tightened, looking at you for doubt, a reason to pull you away from this uncertainty. It was like a cord winding your heart watching Ellaria look to you for any distress, but Lord Varys was smarter then a simple ambush. No, whatever games he played were long and twisted with many others. Blinking slowly at her, your face relaxing just slightly, and she understood. “Of course. Take your time, we are in no rush.”

Despite the raging fire inside you, losing her touch felt cold and empty. Moving to stand beside him you turned to Ellaria once more, “Please, continue on without me. I know where to find you anyways.” Her doubtful face only had to agree. Between your secrets and Oberyns inner turmoil in this city, you wanted her to at least enjoy herself. To keep her Oberyn as far away from your danger as possible, leave them unscathed.

So you parted ways, Ellaria taking her time to look upon the stalls of the street as you know she was watching you walk away. Lord Varys leading you to a nicer part of the streets, in view doors leading to small but much cleaner and well kept buildings than what you’re used too in the city. “I hope you’ll forgive the sudden invitation. The current state of affairs keeps me quite busy I’m afraid. Very little time to attend to other matters.”

Lord Varys gestured for you to climb the steps up a quiet and modest looking building. “I can only imagine.” The inside was a tinge of dark, shutters kept closed only allowing a bit of light to trickle in from the cracks. Fabric, wool, needles lay about on shelves and machines with a small section cleared with two seats. It appeared to be a tailor of sorts, but the people long gone and little sign of life.

You found a spot in the middle of the main room, limbs tingling from the tension coursing through you while Lord Varys gestured for you to have a seat. His back turned as he seemed to grab something you couldn’t see, “Normally meetings aren’t in such dingy quarters, but inviting you all the way to the Red Keep didn’t seem like the place to help make you feel comfortable to talk.”

As he spoke you slowly begun to sit, posture rigid and afraid to make any sudden movements too quick or too loud. Forcing a tight smile on your lips, “Just never had the opportunity is all.”

He continued to stand, his face as impassive as ever. “I didn’t think you would have. A dangerous place for someone hiding away to venture over too. With as many Lords visiting the city as there are, you wouldn’t want to take any chances of being recognized by the wrong person.”

Finally he moved to sit across from you, but you remained like a statue. “I’m not sure why you’d think that my Lord. I’m just a common-”

Interrupting you with words freezing your entire body over. “The face of a dead highborn lady walking about the Red Keep is sure to gather attention by at least some. And the walls have ears, and it travels fast.” Your hands laying in your lap curled into themselves, digging nails into the skin of your palm with a sharp sting. Head shaking in denial, Lord Varys only tilted his head slightly. “There’s no need to play coy, my Lady. You can be assured whatever Lord Baelish knows, always crawls it’s way back to me.”

Air constricted in your lungs, twisting them until there were only scraps remaining. You could keep lying, you could run, anything to escape this but there was nothing you could do. He knew and if you didn’t play along what would he do to you then? So you sat. Inwardly preying to the Old Gods, hoping they could hear you all the way here.

“Presuming you have no idea what he wanted you for, it must be quite nerve wracking to be plopped into one if his brothels and left to fend for yourself. Having to fake your way through the days as you wait to see what it is he intends to use you for.”

Eyes flickering down and skating back and forth between meaningless spots on the wooden surface. Each warm and comforting moment between you and the Dornish couple you’ve grown so attached to slips away from your fingertips. The bubble you’ve created ready to burst and leaving you feeling stupid for ever getting lost in a fantasy too good for you. “If I’m supposed to be dead,” finally looking up to meet him in the eye. “What could he possibly want with me? What do you want with me?”

There was a silence, Lord Varys simply watching you with his ever running mind trying to figure you out. “Lord Baelish and Lord Tywin have similar goals in mind, though for very different reasons. To them, the strongest way to secure an ally, is marriage. Lord Tywin no doubt looking for ways to strength his delicate hold on the North, and Lord Baelish ensuring a partnership by offering a bride as leverage.” You knew where this was headed, and your body shook in retaliation. There was only one option that would be of any significance. “Whoever produces the still living daughter of House Slate gets the upper hand, holds more influence over them. House Bolton may be in charge of the North currently, but the more Houses they unify, the more allies rally behind the crown.”

Nails dug deeper, peeling the skin back as you pressed harder. Your body giving you only enough air to breathe out any words. “But Lord Bolton..I thought he..”

Lord Varys nodded casually, but there was a twinge of sympathy in his eyes. “Lord Roose Bolton did marry yes, one of the trade offs to get the Frey’s willing to help betray Robb Stark. But if the whispers I’ve been told come to pass, his son, Ramsey, will be in need of a highborn wife to produce him an heir should his father choose to legitimize his birth right.”

It was cold, the fire burned inside of you but everything felt cold. You shook and felt it take all life and faith out of you. You never met Ramsey Snow, but you knew of him. The things he’s done, the kind of horror he really is. Death would be better than anything a lifetime of marriage to Ramsey could give you. Minutes passed, maybe hours, the world felt like it was taken right under your feet. This was why you were here. Little Finger gets you in his clutches, then hides you away until Ramsey is declared a Bolton, then sold off to him in the name of strengthening the North. A North only made as such now under the cruelty of a Lannister.

“I on the other hand, see very little benefit in that arrangement. All this time hiding, only to be thrown into a fate worse than the one you ran from. No, what I propose is much different. Something in the opposite direction of your former home.” Leaning back in his seat, the hint of pained sympathy seems to lighten to a much more scheming pleasantry. “I hear Dorne is rather lovely this time of year.”

Rather then give your cards away, you just challenged him. “What use could I possibly be for you in Dorne?”

A smile fell across Vary’s face, a small but knowing one that told you you were only going to get a tiny section of this story. Standing up, he slowly walked to grab something out of an ornate locked box nearby. “Things in the realm are changing, and when the tides turn, I don’t intend to stand by and just wait for the results to fall in my lap. Loyal allies are more important than the one with the biggest army, and you have already found an ally in Dorne haven’t you?”

Facing you but still standing further away, you tilted your head with a confused squint prompting him to elaborate. “Prince Oberyn spoke very fond of you. Not that he gave anything away, but enough that we both knew the other knows the truth. Whatever kind of relationship you’ve developed with him is enough he is willing and determined to protect you.”

Evening your breathing out, that much more comforting feeling once again pumped through your veins. “You want him to take me to Dorne? Why?” As your lungs puffed back out, the air circulated easier, letting your voice come out steady, firm but calm.

Stepping up to the table, Varys held something close, tucked under the drape of his robes. “When the time comes, Prince Doran will need to choose where his allegiances lie, and what lives beyond the Narrow Seas offers his Kingdom much more than the Houses of Westeros can provide.”

The Master of Games rather than Whispers, he was allocating his pieces right where he needs them and he knows how to win. But you only had one play, one card to throw onto the table that may get you some kind of an answer. “Does that thing involve three living dragons?” Varys appeared taken back just an inch. Eyes raising in curiosity. “Because history has proven that dragons mean very little to the Dornish people.”

His steps brought him slowly around the table closer to you. “As does the promise of Targaryean rule. The people of Dorne have a complicated history with most of the major rulers in Westeros, but there are different kinds of dragons, ones not currently tormenting the skies of Essos that could be of great help to them.”

Abruptly you stood, walking needlessly into the empty space trying to understand. Spinning to look at him you gave him an honest look. “You don’t need me for this. You’re talking about- this is bigger than me, I’m not any of these people what good would some rumoured dead Northern girl be? My family isn’t strong, I’m not a fighter, I’m not influential, I’m not some Targaryean dragon rider, you don’t need me for this.”

Vary’s eyes squinted slightly. Just slightly. Coming to stand in front of you, he holds a hand out asking for your own. He held yours in both of his, and just as he spoke, you felt something weighted and metal drop into your palm. “Prince Oberyn will have certain arrangements made by the time the trial is over. I have no doubt he will adamantly involve you in those plans, and I have no conflict of interest in letting that plan go smoothly.”

Pulling his hands away he looked you directly in the eyes, speaking a silent command. One you understood. Putting both your hands clasped together, the unknown object sat unseen in your palms in front of you. “What is it about me that does anything that you couldn’t do yourself? You want me in Dorne, why me? Why do you want me specifically? Why the interest in me at all?”

Now in your personal space, he lowers his voice, leaning down to keep the words to yourself. “We have more in common then you know, Lady Slate.” His voice almost in a pointed exaggerated tone at your real title, “Think on it. Think very carefully about what I’ve told you today. I’d hate to see your use go to waste at the hands of a cruel Bolton boy instead of a Prince.”

Then, he was gone. Leaving you alone in this empty space, head spinning and twirling until it forced your eyes shut just to steady. Inhaling and exhaling deeply for a matter of minutes. Finally you opened your cupped palms, tilted just enough hoping any watching eyes wouldn’t see what it was given to you.

A metal sigil. The very top of the circular metal with some kind of hook as if this were apart of something else at one point. The colours seemed somewhat faded but the image itself stood on it’s own regardless. A dragon, a black dragon with 3 heads against a paint that was just clean enough to recognize as blood red. This wasn’t- this wasn’t what it was supposed to be. Like someone took the Targaryean sigil but messed it up. Why did Lord Varys have something like this? More frustratingly, why did he give this to you? What did this have to do with any of this?

You snapped your head up, looking around to find no onlookers or watchful eyes. Quickly, you tugged the small metal into the fabric of your dress, hidden away from anyone but you. As you stepped out the door, the streets looked just as they always did. Not even a glance towards you as you stepped out onto the pathway.

Walking back to the brothel, you felt conflicted. Trying desperately to uncover the mysteries just presented to you, and the other, the quiet but angry little voice calling you stupid for even dreaming that you meant anything to Oberyn and Ellaria to bring you with them. Neither ever indicated any real desire to have you in their life beyond these few weeks, no one ever wanted that.

Still though, maybe you at least had a chance of leaving this city. That, you could live with. You’re unsure if you should mention this conversation to either of them. Ellaria wouldn’t push, but Oberyn would. If Varys was telling the truth, then Oberyn has more going on than telling you, but you couldn’t think about that. Let him do this trial, let him sit on the small council. Oberyn had bigger plans than bringing you to his home, and you weren’t going to be a distraction to that.

You didn’t leave the room the day of the trial. You couldn’t go anywhere near the Red Keep anyways, so it hardly mattered. You had been tense every since your conversation with Varys. Dragons in the east, allying with Dorne, and somehow you were supposed to be right in the middle of that. You weren’t sure what you were going to do if Oberyn left you behind. Previously you tried not to think about it but now you had a tangible nightmare awaiting you if you just waited your turn.

The fear and intimidating man that is Roose Bolton was the one you knew. Friends with your father but just as cruel as each other. Gods, if you could choose your horrible fate you’d probably just marry him, be demanded to provide him with an heir and be ignored. Marrying Ramsey was another fate entirely. No one who heard of him had to meet him to know if his reputation was true. Everyone said the same things, abuse, torture, a giddiness towards killing, and a forceful attitude towards whatever girl he could claim.

You would rather die on your own terms then that. Let Oberyn and Ellaria be your last memories. Shutting your eyes, you could almost feel their touch again. Hear the teasing laughter in their voice from last night, constantly poking and prodding at you every time you fell back into a performance.

Ellaria lay spread out on the sheets, her body out on display as she was pulled partially back into an equally undressed Oberyn. Her head thrown back in a moan only to stutter and shift into laughter when Oberyn would point out you were losing focus. Her cunt yours for the taking. Some moments you were drowning in her, addicted to her taste, needing to hear her sounds and hips squirm with each lick of her folds or caress to her clit.

Other times you fell back into being in bed with a man demanding you and another girl fuck for his pleasure. How all was expected was to show off dramatically, let them get off to the sight of over exaggerated movements and unnecessarily loud whines. Oberyn’s deep voice would ring in your ears, “Focus, little one. If you’re not enjoying yourself, neither is she. You’re not here to impress me, taste her and just do what feels right.”

Your mouth just an inch away from her, the brush of your hair tickled her inner thighs as you nodded, one of your hands splayed up to cover part of her stomach and hip, holding her down. Just as you leaned back into her, Ellaria’s breathy voice speaks up. “If he wanted a show, he could just step outside and toss a coin at the first pair of brainless girls that walk by.”

You had to rest your forehead on her mound, shaking her hips slightly as you silently laughed. Oberyn shifting down to pull her into his chest more, groping her chest with greed as Ellaria laughed herself. Fingertips from your other hand tap alongside her leg, “You did pay for a whore afterall, performing is supposed to be my skill.”

Whatever rebuttal she had at the tip of her tongue was lost when yours licked back into her. Her orgasm hit her quickly as you drank everything it offered. Just as quick she was pulled up her back now against Oberyn’s chest, his cock sliding into her with a steady pace, a dance they’ve done a thousand.

Her head was thrown back into his shoulder, as Oberyn finds your own eyes, kneeling up with your palms resting down in front of you, almost unsure if to interrupt them with your own presence. His pace slows down as he stares into your own eyes, “Think I forgot about you?”

Ellaria barley lifts her head, titled into his neck with an arm wrapped behind her grasping at his hair, her eyes just peek enough to spot yours. Her other hand beckons you up to her and raises her head up as she clasps your hand in her.

Oberyn slows more and grasps Ellaria’s hips firmly as she tugs you into her. Pulling you into her chest she slides up and grasps at your hair, hovering her lips over yours. “If you really want to show off,” her other hand moves back to her front and slinks down your own body, her grip on your hair yanks slightly to turn both of your heads just a tad to look back at Oberyn. “How about I show him just what he’s missing out on, here?” Raking her gaze up and down yourself.

Oberyn all but growls out Ellaria’s name in warning, but you both smirk at the other. Her capturing your lips as both of your hands roam each other. Oberyn’s cock soaked deep in Ellaria’s cunt being the only attention given to him.

She teases him endlessly with you. She knows he’s holding off on fucking you properly. Neither of you are quite sure why, but all he does is push you right to the edge, tip you just over it, and let Ellaria be the one to pull you down with her instead.

Oberyn’s hands hug her hips and ass back into his own as he fucks her, and your own fingers reaching down to rub her clit in tandem. Your pace matching his before Ellaria’s body falls back briefly into his. His cock slowly sliding in and out, a kiss on the side of her head, as you pull her back up to gently press your own lips against hers.

Glossy eyes returning to normal, her and Oberyn once more lean the sides of their heads into each other, both looking at you in question. His mouth in biting range to her ear, but the husk of his voice whispers loud, “Show her how grateful we are, wouldn’t you my love?”

Turning in for a proper kiss she smirks into his as they part, “My pleasure.”

Your body hovering over hers, Ellaria’s fingers dip into your own cunt, soaked just from pleasuring her. Rare to find a woman working in places like this so naturally aroused by giving, though perhaps it was just something her and Oberyn got to experience alone. If she had final say, Ellaria would make it so it stays that way.

For now though, her fingers pump in and out of you as Oberyn fucks his final pounds into her. Your head was down taking in the coiling orgasm building up, but Oberyns hand nudged under your chin up to look at him.

Brown eyes with a penetrating gaze, your eyes on his face, the grit of his teeth, jaw clenched tight, and nostrils flared as he fucks his cum up into his paramour. His hand under your chin the entire time, until you slip out from it as Ellaria brings you to your own end.

One hand steady on Ellaria’s waist, while the other reaching out blindly, tightly holding onto Oberyn’s arm as your orgasm sparks and sets ablaze. A sharp loud gasp with your head tilted back hardly noticing her fingers leaving you empty. Taking both hands you smooth the wild hair flung about your head before placing both palms down, once again knees on the bed as you come down.

Briefly you notice Ellaria’s hands cup your cheeks just long enough to sneak a kiss, “You were right, you perform quite well no matter what, lover.” You both chuckle somewhat breathlessly as you swat at her hands, turning just long enough to see her slip a beautiful deep yellow robe as she heads towards the jug of water.

Strong arms slide across your shoulder and one around your stomach, tugging you into Oberyn’s side. Your back against his chest, his chin resting atop your head, but unlike the sensual loving embrace he just had Ellaria in, this one felt almost calming. Purposely calming, keeping you tight against him as your heart pounding quiets. Quietly muttering your name, he moves the arm on your shoulder to reach up and stroke the side of your cheek with his thumb. “You don’t have to tell me what Lord Varys spoke to you about even though I can see it’s bothering you.”

Soon Ellaria moves back to sit on the edge of the bed, her feet dangling downward to the floor as opposed to the tangled mess yours and Oberyns splayed out to the side were. “We just need to know one thing, sweet girl.” Ellaria’s deep eyes shining with vaguely concealed worry as she debated how to say what they both were thinking. “Are you in danger? Being here?”

No doubt Oberyn could feel your body tense, his head tucking itself into the crux of your neck leaving scattered kisses in his wake. The deep rumblings of his voice vibrating through your spine. “If you don’t feel safe you need to tell us. You’ve been trapped here under the eyes of very powerful and dangerous men, I know better than anyone how few options you have to leave. So I need a yes or no.”

No, you shook no. Unsure if there was even a way to explain things without just spilling the words you are sure Lord Varys told to you in confidence. A risky meeting in the middle of the city just to keep the walls from listening. But they wanted to know. They needed to know. If Little Finger didn’t come back for his plan North, then it would only be a matter of time before Lord Tywin figured out where you were hiding.

Constricting tighter around your body, Oberyn’s nose brushed against your cheek before the hand on your jaw turned you up into an aggressive kiss. Harsh and needy, but short. Not much was said about it the rest of the night, unsure if it was no one knowing how to say what they were thinking, or if for now, no one just wanted too.

It was new being with them in such a way. They were intense, and demanding, but so deeply loving. Treating you with as much respect and admiration as they have for the other.

Keeping you trapped between their bodies as you all slept, only to be woken by gentle rubs to your clit from Oberyn behind you, slowly, quiet so keep the beauty in front of you both undisturbed. Your naked body pressed back against him entirely, as he kisses you, his tongue against yours as he makes you cum, keeping you quiet. They were a dream you were too scared to wake up from.

Which is why you stood. Hands tightly holding the metal sigil as you stared out the window. The view barely different from the one in your tiny, now unwelcoming room. Like they were never here, but the sting of their memories holding onto you like a leech.

You had to close you eyes tight, so tight colours danced in your vision as you desperately tried to will the tears away instead of falling. Knuckles white from how rough your grip on the sigil was. You would never find people like Oberyn and Ellaria again, and your only prospects were to hope Varys had any reason to be telling you the truth, or to brace yourself for a life of unspeakable torment at the hands of a monster.

It hurt to know Oberyn was right. You had little escape from here alone. How many spies scattered across the city, how many people did they report to, how guarded were any of the places one could sneak out from?

Embarrassed, that's how it felt. Janus, your dear uncle who taught you how to run, how to live, how to survive, wasted it all. You lasted maybe one year before being discovered and dragged to King’s Landing like a prisoner. Stashed away under lock and key until you were ready to once again be forced elsewhere to a place you knew would not help you.

Options had run out. You needed Varys to be right. Being left alone in this city, a tiger trapped in a cage only to be poked and laughed at by your hunters, was a death sentence. One that you would enact yourself if need be.

Oberyn and Ellaria may care now, but if they leave, it would only be a matter of time before they forgot you anyways. A pathetic runaway working as a whore unable to protect herself.

You could still see his face, your Uncle, he panic and distress as he told you to go. The faint sounds of your father yelling inside your home just off in the distance, the closer sound of your older brother barking orders at the boy in the courtyard to start helping. The feeling of your uncles rough, calloused hands cupping your cheeks as he pressed a final kiss to your forehead before watching you go. The urgency in his movements as he pulled you from your bed in the dead of night didn’t make sense until you watched what he was protecting you from.

The shame you would bring upon him if the next time he saw you, was as a prisoner sold off to the family that betrayed the ones you were supposed to have fought for. You had no shame hiding out in a brothel when you reached the Riverlands. You were exhausted, no money, and in territory a war was still raging on. At least in there you had shelter, food, and living in a place your family had no reason to travel to.

Had you been more vigilant, you might have noticed whispers turning into constant talk and chatter throughout the building surrounding the days events, but you were tuned out. Finding privacy to drown everything out in a tub. The water boiled far too hot didn’t phase you, just like increasing volume of gossip in the other rooms didn’t phase you.

Just like that the boiling silence was interrupted by one of the younger girls wandering in. Jumping back slightly with a hand to her chest in a gasp, she muttered out apologies. “I didn’t realize anyone was in here, just needed a minute to myself you know?” Giving a breathy little giggle, new enough to not quite recognize that your face currently screamed anything but please sit down and talk to me. Even though that’s exactly what she did. Perched on the edge of the stone rambling about how crazy this trial thing is, how she snuck out early in the morning just so she could try and get in to watch.

You distracted yourself from the mindless chatter by running the smooth cloth over your skin once more as if you were still busy washing. “I can’t believe she would do such a thing, I always thought she was so pretty too!”

You jerked your head up, brows furrowing as your ears tuned back in. “Wait, who did what?”

The girl rolled her eyes in jest, “Lady Sansa, weren’t you listening?” Flickering her hand over the water to splash at you, she pulled away with a hiss, shaking the stark heat off her fingers. You only felt more confused. “Have you not heard what everyone is saying? Asking the imp to kill the King because he didn’t want to marry her anymore! I mean why else would she run, right?”

Oh you’re sure you could think of an endless list of reasons that would drive a teenage girl kept prisoner in the city, to want to escape the first chance she got. If you didn’t believe Tyrion Lannister poisoned Joffery you were even more certain that Sansa Stark had even less to do with it. Besides, she didn’t run away, she was flown off by a certain conniving mockingbird. “Is it,” You paused to take a breathe, reforming your words, be as moderate as possible. “What did the judges decide?”

Her eyes went wide hands dramatically splaying on her chest over her heart, “It was insane, the judges didn’t even reach a verdict. The imp went on this tirade saying he wished he did it, that he was glad to watch and that he should have let that Baratheon take the city. He demanded a trial by combat now.”

It was rare now. The two parties fight to the death and whoever lives, the Gods have declared innocent. You had never seen it used, or even heard it really. Most men were either condemned to death it they wanted a trial, but most just confessed and were banished to The Wall. Though this time, the defendant was Tyrion Lannister. Clearly a brave man if what you’ve been just told is true, but not a skilled fighter by any means. “Do we know who’s fighting in their places? I’m sure Lady Cersei has a list of knights willing to fight for her,”

“Oh yeah, her champion is The Mountain.”

The blood drained from your face, racing down to you’re heart and forcing it’s painful thud against your chest. The girls words fading away as the dread raised. You knew why she chose him, a man known for nothing but sheer size, strength and unusually cruel brutality. A vile thing whose only purpose was to cause others pain.

It got caught in your mouth, your words sitting in the back of your throat, festering until it almost felt like you would be sick. Not many men would take on The Mountain in a fight to the death, even less men who cared even a bit about Tyrion Lannisters innocence. No this was worse. Was cruelty of the Seven mocking you, or the Old Gods just leaving your faith behind entirely. But you knew there was only one answer to your question, even if she didn’t know that.

“And Lord Tyrion?” She flipped her long hair back raising her eyebrows in question. “Wh-Who is to be Lord Tyrions champion?”

She said she didn’t really know, that it must have been decided outside the trial. But you didn’t need to figure it out. The Mountain was about to return to King’s Landing to engage in a trial by combat, a legal Crown mandated fight to the death where only the gods could determine a mans guilt. And there was only one man who was determined to make Gregor Clegane face the guilt for his crimes.

The girl left sometime in your lost silence. You didn’t hear or notice. Suddenly, you were overwhelmed with a sickening, paralyzing dread.

By the time you emerged clothed and dry, you knew for sure people were watching you this time. Quiet whispers between men and curious stares from the girls. Passing through the main chamber, a conversation between Olyvar and another suddenly stopped. A stare you couldn’t identify from the blond. Was it sympathy or was it distrust? Was this about Oberyn, or was this about Varys. Olyvar reported directly to Lord Baelish, so how much did he know about what was to be your fate?

Was he ever your friend, or was he just trying to find a way to keep you here willingly, by offering kindness. Either way he sat behind the desk staring as you stood paused in the middle of the room, watching back. If you were going to leave here, on your own terms, he was your first obstacle. Losing you would be to lose Lord Baelish’s trust, and to spies like him that was not an option, not when you knew too much.

Your chest rising with a deep breathe, and a slow blink as your head and feet returned to their destination.

You opened the door quietly, hearing more hushed tones than what would normally be heard in this room you found so much joy. If it was true, no doubt they had talked about it together, they mean so much to each other, and now, death or justice is his only choice. Only one, was easily given.

Your steps felt small and meek, but with one ping against the floor, the two dark haired heads flipped your way. Ellaria’s hands resting comfortably against his chest, while Oberyns rested against her arm and waist. Their eyes both shined with concern, but their tones drastically differed.

Oberyn’s were dark and pensive while Ellaria’s were solemn and understanding. Neither one enticing enough to beckon you over. Whispering something unheard to his lover, Oberyn nudged her to you as he stepped away with his back facing you.

Your eyes were trapped on his back to you as she approached you. Not until the palm of her hand gently pulling your gaze to her own. With a stuttering breath, so quiet you almost couldn’t hear it yourself you asked, “Is it...he’s really going to do this?” The solemn eyes turned almost a shade warmer as she nodded. She understood him more, but she also understood you. Your own eyes shut, head dropping. Jaw clenched, you didn’t trust your own words.

Feeling this way seemed wrong, he was a fighter. A fighter with such skill, whispers of his feats reached from the warm sun of Dorne to the grey dreary North. If this were anything but what it was, you wouldn’t feel such a gloom over you.

“Sweet girl,” her other soft palm found your cheek as well, as your own hands reached to hold onto her wrist, looking up at her. “I know. Trust me, I know. But this isn’t some young impulsive kid jumping into the light just because he’s cocky. This means so much more-”

Just like that you dropped her wrists and stepped back. You stepped back and she tried to step forward, and once again you stepped back. Blinking away how obvious you were, your head shook and a tight lipped smile forced it’s way onto your face. “No, no, it’s alright Ellaria. I understand entirely.” You refused to look over to the other side of the room, to see if brown eyes were waiting to catch yours. “How long?”

Ellaria blinked too, you weren’t alone in keeping yourself together, she was simply practised. “A day maybe. However long it takes the Mountain to return to the city.”

Don’t do this, keep yourself painted like metal. Steady voice steady face. “I will do what I can to help prepare.” Walking past her, you could feel the soft material of her dress brush your arms. Eyes shut, shaking your head just enough to force the tears back in.

The night was quiet. Your persona was up as high and pretending as it ever had been. There was no trace of your genuine self that evening. Ellaria was a bit easier, no matter the outcome she would still be here. She would leave but you could remember her and pray for her safety and journey, knowing just maybe, you were still close enough to the Old Gods that they could hear you over the Seven and appease just one ask from you.

You hardly looked at Oberyn like you were real. Cordial, getting him what he wanted and answering any question he posed out of simple want or jest. Any point being made to reach out to this mask was met with short answers, a stock answer you gave to any men coming through that would just throw coin your way regardless of your feeling. You think he looked at you a lot that evening, never being able to shake the unwavering intensity seemingly on your person.

The day you accepted this offer, saying yes to this beautiful interesting couple who had you talking and laughing without any facade, letting your company be theirs. Worrying at the time if this would be a mistake and it was. Oberyn had found an opportunity to do what is right, and that’s all that mattered. You didn’t matter, and you didn’t want to matter anymore. Not again.

They spent much time in quiet hushes together as the sun finally feel dark, many times finding you in their words. And for the first time in the weeks you’ve spent together, you watched them find each others arms in bed, and sleep take them away from the insanity this day had brought, but didn’t join them.

The moon was high and bright that night, a blue glow sprinkled over every surface, but did nothing to lull you to sleep. Your side rested against a wall as you looked out into the streets. Dead or not, the outcome wouldn’t affect these people, they would go about their lives and nothing would change. Many for sure, would come to watch, root and cheer for the charming Dornish Prince with a skilled fighting reputation unlike any other, and most of them would feel very little after his death.

You couldn’t do this again, you couldn’t handle it. You could see his face looking through the glass of the stained window. His voice ringing in your ears, begging you to never return, telling you that you meant the world to him, that he loved you and this needed to happen to keep you safe. Your body tensing, limbs curling in on themselves and your body failing you wanting to collapse as you saw the blood.

The only one who ever cared about you, and all you could see was the blood spurting from his mouth, and the blades ripping through the warm chest your smaller self often found the only comfort to exist to you. He was the only one, and now that you’ve found another, you could see it happening again.

Gregor Clegane was formidable and mercilessly sadistic. One mistake, one simple slip that he could take advantage of, and it was over. Countless men over the years found that out, and now, his opponent was a man who seeks justice from someone unwilling to believe in such a thing.

You got no sleep that night, nor would you the next. When the sun comes up the day after tomorrow, there is no certainty that you will be able to look behind your position, and see the chest so warm it matches the Dorne sun. His handsome face, soft all over all framed by an angular nose that you will never forget the feeling of as it runs down your own before his lips follow.

Maybe you will find it, but there was the blood. And his face covered in it before you turned and ran. And it became harder to stay positive. You’d leave before sunrise.

Ellaria wasn’t the bargaining chip presented to you, Oberyn was. If Oberyn dies, than there is no escape coming to help. You have to find a way to try.

Your night was spent awake, eyes on the glow of the moonlit streets, sat on the still just at the windows base. Fabric and metal. You knew what you wanted, and you needed to be awake to get them without the watchful eyes of the cities birds. And you needed to get them in and yourself back out out of the view of a close fair haired little bird, whom chirps it’s findings to a conniving mockingbird, and before a powerful lion finds you first.

Leaving out in the morning was easy, no one was awake and whomever might be was used to the sound of people sneaking out in the early hours. Eager to return home before other knights and noblemen see where they’ve spent the night.

The tailor shop was still empty, part of you could only wonder where the owners went too, and if leaving their shop and home abandoned was a coincidence, or a way to ensure an empty space with no chance to wandering in dwellers for secret talks.

You had riffled through the trunks, shapeless and muted rags clearly meant to be cut up and remade into something else were yours for the taking. As well as the dye. A dark coloured dye, almost black meant to stain the material before final alterations would be set. It was close to the kind of look you once had, but hid after finding refuse in an inn.

At least if this worked, you could let your hair grow from it’s roots without staining so heavily to drain the dark colour out of it in the dead of night.

Metal was more difficult. Blacksmiths would have what you wanted, but you had not the coin or the thieving abilities to secure one for yourself. Scraps though, were perhaps something more your level anyways. Most shops had one alleyway to dump wasted product, sometimes it was cleaned up by another, and sometimes they just waited for the poorest of the slums to come and scour for anything of need.

You could see from your vantage point, there likely was metal there so you started to walk. You were good at watching your back, empty streets or uncaring eyes left you invisible to go about your way. Nothing you could detect noticed you.

Nothing that is, until your vision spun and your back slammed into the wall of the very alley you ventured into. A hard sting vibrated through your spine, but the back of your head only felt a cushion that cradled its frame. An accented voice greeted your startled figure. “I’m not sure if I should be offended that you think I’m that easy to sneak away from.”

Oberyn stood close in front of you, the hand he used to cushion your head slides to find a home matching his other, palms against the brick on either side of you caging you in as his tall broad frame covers your vision. There was a fond smirk on his face as his eyes twinkled with amusement, but it was hard to focus on how he looked at you.

Your own face fell from startled, to relieved, all the way down to upset. That beautiful smile on such a beautiful man, you felt guilt for how detached you were trying to become. “I didn’t think, I’m sorry-”

Shushing you quietly, Oberyn moved in closer to you, a hand on your hip and the other raking through your hair until it found a home on your jaw and neck. “Perhaps we should talk somewhere less, suggestive.”

His smirk grew wide and mischievous as you followed to see an older man watching with a curious but lewd demeanour. Two people pressed up against the other, one pushed against a wall with the other having his hands over you. Before you could agree, the second your head looked away, Oberyns lips captured yours. Almost pulling you up to your toes as he leans to tower over you before his tongue making a salacious performance to explore your mouth before pulling away with a nibble.

For the first time in over a day, you finally gave him not just a smile but a laugh as well. “A girl might think you’re trying to give the man a show.” Shameless as he is, Oberyn’s hands pulled both sides of your hips into his own before snaking one back to hold your lower back up. His tongue being replaced with a bite filled aggression before barley separating your lips as he turns you both to walk away.

Oberyn giving the man a wink as they passed, and you couldn’t tell what made you giggle more, that or the jaw dropped face of the man you couldn’t tell was aroused or offended by the gesture. His hand never left the small of your back as he led you to a path you knew would find it’s way to the water. “I don’t want you to feel the need to run and hide from me. What this is that you’re feeling is understandable, but I want you to just be open with me what you’re feeling this way.”

There was hardly much in the way of sun as you both reached the small opening of water, a tiny channel that opened wide into the sea, but what little sunlight reached you both reflected radiantly on his skin. The yellow fabric draped over his body did nothing to hide as you were dressed to, but did everything to overwhelm you with his beauty. A robe with rich yellows and hints of a deeper orange made it hard to ever look away from him. It made you miss him too.

For a while, you both stood there, splashes against the rocks and his hand on your back still. But it was too much. “Tomorrow you fight. As Tyrions champion.” The tears almost started to collect in the backs of your eyes as you whispered to him.

His hand pulled you in closer to his side. “I am. Somebody should. He’s innocent, and that deserves to be defended.” Oberyn knew he didn’t need to elaborate. You were smart, you saw less than he heard yet you still came to the better conclusion than the court.

“And because the Mountain is Cersei’s champion.”

His eyes narrowed as he looked up into the brightening sky, chin held high and not a shred of doubt in his body. “What I want for my sister, for her children, is justice. That’s not easy in a place like this, and I’m not fooled into thinking I can just force it to happen because I want it too. These proud golden lions only stand tall for as long as there are many of them. Their time will come, it’s not just me who has made sure of that.”

Oberyns free hand grasped the closest of yours, thumb swiping on and over the skin as his eyes traced the lines before once again finding home in the waters. “Gregor Clegane needs no justice. He doesn’t deserve it and he will never give it. There’s very little chance for him to ever atone for his crimes, and if no one will do it than I will.”

Body turning to you, you stepped around to look at him the same, his hand now back on your hip and holding yours out between both your bodies. “I’m defending an innocent man because it’s right. But this is also a chance we may never get again. To face the man with their blood on his hands and hear from his mouth that he did it. That he murdered her children. Elia’s children, and raped her with their own blood on his body before murdering her as well. I want to hear him tell me he did it, so he dies knowing he never actually got away with it.”

You nodded to him, “And you? What do we get if you die? Ellaria, your daughters, your family. Leaving them behind will be just as painful as the kind you feel now.”

His fingers bring your chin up closer to his. “It’s not my honour I’m fighting for. It’s for my sisters memory and that, sweet girl, is something they understand. I love them dearly, but they also know the pain Elia left behind, they feel it too, and it’s not something they want to let go either. I have to do this, and it’s something they understand.”

While you gave a single nod, your eyes mapped out his, the ferce love within them. “But this isn’t just about me is it? This fear, it’s more than just what happens tomorrow. Right?”

This time, the tears found their way to the surface. Not falling but enough that they were impossible to miss. Oberyn’s hands bringing you into a chaste kiss, keeping you against him but leaving you to speak.

“My Uncle was the only person who ever cared. About me or for me. The rest of my family happy to leave me locked away until they needed someone to take their frustrations out on.” Oberyn’s eyes flashed a danger you had yet to see shone your way, and the tears wanted more.

Turning your body you leaned back into his chest that moved with you. His arms wrapping around your frame as you both watched the water. Your falling tears matching the clarity of the colour. “You were right. There’s no point hiding it. You saw the bruises I tried to hide, and those were only the ones my brother could make alone. My father was more inclined to hurt me where others could see it. I never knew why. I still don’t. My mother could barley look at me, like something about my existence shamed her, but whatever that was made my father despise me. Janus, my uncle, was the only one who tried to protect me.”

A faint smile crossed your face, tears still falling but with a lighter reprieve. “He taught me anything he could afford to. How to defend myself enough to find a way to run, how to hide, brought me whenever he was travelling elsewhere to make sure I learned as much about the world as I needed to. I just never realized it wasn’t just out of kindness. It was out of necessity.”

Your hands gripped Oberyns arms around your front. “It was pitch black out the night he dragged me out of bed. He pulled me into his own room, and told me to put everything on that he had laid out, and that when I was done, I needed to climb out. There was a branching tree that you could reach, and start to climb down on, so I did as I was told as he left the room entirely. I didn’t understand why until I was already making my way down. I could see in my window, the door flying open, and shadows of men, men I knew, men my father trusted. And I could see them stabbing into the bed thinking I was still there.”

Oberyn tugged your body against him tighter, a terse anger stewing through his person, but he let you speak. “Everyone was looking for me, Janus put me on a horse, and told me once I got closer to the borders I needed to abandon it, sell it, but get it away from me. He told me I could never come back. That he couldn’t tell me why, but he told me never to let my father find me, and not to trust any of the Northern houses. That whatever side I thought they were on was wrong, and I couldn’t trust them.”

“Two boys found him first, older boys, sons of my fathers guards who would do anything to impress the Lord of the House. They tried to grab and drag me off the horse, but he knocked them away so I could take off. And they re payed that kindness by shoving a knife through his throat. The last memory I have of the only person who ever cared about my life is watching him spew blood from his mouth before collapsing to the ground.”

You spun in his arms, both your eyes painfully watching the others closely. “I understand why you have to do this. I do, and I want you to do what you need to for her. But I also need you to just know why that’s...difficult to accept. I’m not trying to stop you. I don’t want to stop you. But watching the same thing happen to you..I can’t-”

Your body trembling in his arms, eyes red as he tucks you into his chest completely. “What did Lord Varys tell you? You’ve been terrified ever since then.”

Your voice was muffled, but he heard you perfectly. “Lord Baelish stashed me here, so he can marry me off once Roose Bolton’s bastard is given full title. If Lord Tywin doesn’t find me first, than my new home lies in the hands of Ramsey Snow and you can’t begin to imagine the vile cruelty he commits.”

You could feel Oberyns hand moving, as if shifting your dress around to find something, but he didn’t grab you. He shuffled a bit out of sight before tipping his head back to kiss you, only separating to press his forehead against yours. “You have a home. Not may, or will. You have one. No matter what happens to me you have one. You have Ellaria. You’re not just precious to her, you’re precious to me and my death won’t change that.”

There was more to his words that you understood, but later. The walls only have ears in Kings Landing if birds are around, and what he means won’t be heard in the close confines of a bed between two lovers.

This was enough for now for you. You had your own plans, Oberyn has his, you just weren’t sure if any of them matched yours. But he was precious to you as well. They both were, you just had to trust that.

“Come, Ellaria and I want your company for breakfast. We’ve had fifteen years to spend with each other, we prefer your fresh face to look at.” His hands tapped at your hips before turning to move away. Your hands finally reach into the hidden pocket of your dress, and you saw metal. Metal tucked in a plain sheath up to a handle accented in tones of yellow, the very hilt, a sigil of a sun striked by an arrow.

While your heart pounded at what you were likely to do with it, you also felt a burst in your heart, he cared about you yes, but he also understood you. This wasn’t a blade you’ve seen him use, this is one he carried out this morning specifically, because he understands what kind of watchful eyes you will have to get past.

Staring at the hilt must have been longer then you noticed, Oberyn called your name, a whisper of your real name , seemingly almost unwilling to play this charade anymore. You reached out to accept the large hand waiting for you, he reached up and just slightly pressed his lips against the back of your hand, before keeping his arm and hands on you for most of the walk.

Any early risers only seeing what they thought a lewd, promiscuous foreigner indulging in some common whore. No suspicious gossip was passed around this time.

As the sky grew darker, the more tense you had begun to feel. Preparations for the fight tomorrow held much of the evening. You and Ellaria watching Oberyn sharpening the tipped blade of a long spear, making a point not to touch whatever he was handling. Ellaria certainly knew better, and her distance helped you know better as well. She was draped across your back and shoulders as you both sat together on the bed, her head leaned into your ear. “It’s more than just the blade he’s preparing, sweet girl.” Her hand moving to pull some of your hair back behind you, lips finding a place where the strands just lay. Your shoulders didn’t relax anymore, your pulse ringed in your ears instead.

Watching the blade, looking to where you had stashed not just the dagger but everything to hide yourself come morning. Oberyn had made it clear what was needed to be done. “There won’t be many guards watching the docks, but you have to be able to board our ship without being seen by them. And I don’t think you will be able to just sneak on without them clearly spotting you.” His eyes had trained themselves onto the dagger as you tucked it under clothes, your hands hovering in the air before clenching into a fists and finally dropping back down. The message was clear. Get rid of them.

Oberyns eyes had continuously flickered back to you. It was a lot to ask of you what he was, but it was clear you weren’t going to be allowed to just walk out of the city unscathed and unseen and the impending combat did little to ease your nerves. You couldn’t go, you couldn’t accompany the pair because the sheer amount of eyes that could and would recognize you, the long hair and soft dress, it would bring up too many questions as to why you of all whores were allowed to join them.

Oberyn had stood at this point, making his way over to you as you clearly lost yourself in thought. Crouching down to meet your eye level, his hand grasped your jaw as he said your name. “You can do this, you just have to believe in yourself, okay?”

Your eyes slipped shut as your head dropped even in his hold, “It’s not me I’m worried about.” Grasping the wrist near your head tightly. “If something happens, I won’t even know until-”

Oberyns eyes were almost harsh, a tightness to his face that carried throughout his body. “You doubt my ability, little one? You don’t think I’m capable?” His voice however held a tint of lightness to it, almost a tease. He watched you shake your head, finally looking up to his eyes, trouble brewing behind them, like too many things overpowering your anxiety. “I trust you, all you need to do in return is trust me. We both can do this.” His other hand joined to cup the other side of your face.

Ellaria’s hands slid the straps of your dress slowly downwards. “What do you need, sweet girl?” You didn’t respond. You almost couldn’t think of how to say it. What you needed, was to know that this was all real between you. The intensity, the feelings, the intimacy, you wanted it to all be genuine and you needed to feel it.

Oberyn however, read you perfectly fine. His hands slid from your face as he stood before the foot of the bed, undoing hips robes before you. “Take it off.”

Your own eyes transfixed at seeing more and more of his skin reveal itself to you, Ellaria took it upon herself to bunch up your skirt and pull it all up and over your head. Oberyns eyes tearing over your bare form as he shucked off his pants. His cock on display, deep in colour as the blood flowing through it begged for you to give it attention. But he didn’t touch it, or even approach you. His hand pulled you up to face him, as you could feel his cock brush your stomach.

Once again his hands trailed over the sides of your face, this time caressing softly, both your eyes shut as his nose trailed along yours before finding your lips with his. A gentle kiss making you tremble, before he pulled away and turned you to face Ellaria. Already having ridden herself of her own clothing, she didn’t stand to join you. She watched and waited for you to listen to orders. Oberyns large hands perched on your hips as his entire body pressed against your back. “Those beautiful lips of hers just beg to be kissed don’t they?” When you nod he slightly pushes you up onto the bed once more.

Crawling on top of her, you pressed you lips against hers. Quickly though, the soft caress turned demanding. Ellaria moving you how she wanted, the taste of her tongue only found as she slips it into your mouth. One of her hands had grabbed you by the waist as now the other slip up your stomach, between the valley of your breasts and held your neck, finally tilting your head back dramatically.

Retching a gasp from you as Oberyn now kneeled on the bed behind you, taking over her work. His lips biting and nipping at yours, his tongue demanding you grant him whatever he desires. Your breasts felt Ellaria’s hands over them, before she started rubbing her thumbs over your nipples. Giving tiny tugs and pulls in tandem with Oberyn biting your lips.

A line of spit following just slightly as his lips pulled away from your gasping mouth and trailed down you neck. His bites no less sharp, your gasps turning more into moans the deeper he marked it up and down. The burn from his facial hair reddening whatever his mouth left untouched, as Ellaria gave your breasts the same treatment.

Bruises would form against both places, slight marks of teeth against each as they overwhelmed you. Oberyns deep voice pulling your senses back, “Tell us who you belong to.” Hearing his words but not really understanding them, Oberyn repeated himself but only a moan was given in return. One of his hands around your body held your neck tight, just enough breathe allowed to pass through. “Who do you belong to?”

A breathy rasp passed your lips, “You. I belong to yo-” But that was apparently, not the right answer. At once the pairs mouths left your skin, but their hands held you firmly in place.

Oberyns forehead rested against yours. “No one.” You could feel his thumb trailing back and forth against the skin of your hip. “From this moment on, you belong to no one.” Giving you reprieve, Ellaria switched to rake through the strands of hair that framed your chest as Oberyn yanked you further into his chest as Ellaria followed. Your head now back against his shoulder. “No matter what happens tomorrow, you leave this building and never return. You get on that ship. No one in Dorne will hurt you. I will make sure of that regardless what may happen to me.”

As you reached up behind you to grasp onto Oberyns neck the other gripped the hand on your hip. Lifting your head enough so your cheek found his, your eyes craning up to see into his beautiful brown ones. “I may belong to no one, but I am yours.” Your eyes looking to Ellaria’s sultry ones, “Both of yours.”

The two of them seemed to speak in more silent tongues. Eyes watching the other as she nodded. Moving to match Oberyns kneeled stance, he pushed you against the front of her own chest, his back still against yours as he does so.

Ellaria kissed you as Oberyns fingers danced on your skin lower and lower. You gasped into her mouth as one of his hands slapped against the one of the cheeks of your ass his nails carving crescent moons into it, as his other cupped your mound. His hands holding your pelvis in place as two of his fingers trailed the slick gathering between your legs.

Stroking back and forth as your gasps and whines of need made Ellaria smirk into your mouth. You almost vibrated with burning need, but the heat only consumed you more as his two thick fingers plunged into your entrance.

The hand digging into your ass moved to rub your clit with every thrust of his fingers. Fucking into your warmth slowly, but deep to the knuckle every time as he finds that perfect angle that turns your gasps into moans once more. Ellaria cupped the back of your hair, a comforting hold as Oberyn buries his face into the other side of your neck, kissing the skin below your ear as he picks up the pace which his fingers fuck you.

His breathing heavy on your skin as you feel his thick cock resting against the middle of your ass. Your hips pushing back just slightly, Oberyn hisses into your ear as he greets your hips by pushing forward more. The fingers on your clit fall to his palm now rubbing against you harshly.

The burning coiling pleasure between your legs built and built. Had it been minutes, seconds, hours? You couldn’t feel anything but his thick fingers pushing a third into you, your desperate gasps mixed with Oberyn demanding in your ear. “Give it to me. Cum for me, and you can have me. All of me.”

The wetness from between your legs was loud with every push of his fingers, it should embarrass you. The lewd sound should bring a flustered shame to you but it doesn’t, it just makes you want to take what he’s offering. Ellaria kisses your cheek when your hands grab her waist needing something to hold. “Will you let him fuck you, my love? Fuck you like all men and women wish he fucked them like?” Rasping out yes’s, one after another. “Then cum.”

The coiling wrapped too tightly, and it snapped at it’s peak. Your orgasm flooded your body, squished between two bodies as the pleasure coursed through your veins.

Whoever was kissing your neck you couldn’t tell, your eyes shut and breathing too hard to pay attention. Oberyn yanking your hips up into the air between them higher, he gripped the base of his cock and gently slides it between your legs. Your pussy wet and soaking his cock as it dragged through the folds.

Oberyns arms wrapped around your stomach as he teased, an embrace much like ones you had seen him and Ellaria wrap each other up in countless times. He called your name, “We are yours as well. Both of us. We get through tomorrow, and even if I don’t we still are each others, all of us.” Oberyn own head rested against Ellaria’s, her hand on his face as well. The two kissed before he once again grips his cock.

Braced on her shoulders, Ellaria’s finger trailed down to your clit, resting just atop it with the weight of a feather. Their foreheads resting together as they both watched him tease his tip into you. Prodding in and out, soaking itself with your wetness before his embrace was holding you by the waist. “Please,”

That was all he needed. Oberyn thrusted his cock deep into your cunt, soaked and squelching from the sheer amount of slick, but your moans danced with each other enough to hide it.

Ellaria teased at your clit, pressing hard, rubbing circles with each fuck up into you, or simply stroking like a touch against your cheek. Oberyns cock fucked you with little mercy, he thrust deep and rough, knocking your breathe out of you too quick to regain it whenever he slid almost right back out.

“So fucking tight,” his lips almost bit against your ear as he spoke through gritted teeth. “So many men throwing gold for a chance with you, and not one of them fucked you right.” You couldn’t choose between having your hands on him or Ellaria, so she moved up so close you could feel her breathe on your own cheek. Oberyns voice was rough like he fucked, words penetrating and forced out between groans. “Beautiful girl, cunt made just for me.”

Sweat covered your bodies. Oberyns cock now pounding you with shallow thrusts, but fast. Your breasts trying to bounce with his fast fucking, but pressed too much against Ellaria’s own body. Her lips pressing anywhere they can get as she touches herself just as she touches your clit.

You mindlessly begged, for what you did not know, but you begged regardless. Moans and gasps pitched higher and higher as once again the coil wrapped around. Oberyn slowed just enough, now dragging his thick cock along your walls as he pulled out more and more and slowly back up as you clenched around him. “That’s it. Good girl.”

The burning core threatening to once again push you over the edge, but you wanted to take not just you. Reaching down blindly to join Ellaria’s own hand against her clit, she moved hers to let you take over. Oberyns cock taking over your mind, Ellaria’s lips taking over your own, her tongue finding yours as you both moan into each other.

You both cum at the same time, your fingers harmonizing with the others touch., As your head leaned back against Oberyns shoulder, one of his own reached up and grasped Ellaria’s hair, yanking her head up to watch her own orgasm take over. While your touch against her clit slid down, overwhelmed by the persistent dragging of cock inside you, Ellaria relaxed more into the bed. Holding Oberyns hand and pressing her lips to it before returning it to your own body.

Oberyn wasn’t done with you though. Pulling you from Ellaria entirely, he forced your back entirely against his chest. Each fuck into you now so close he could feel your ass move with every thrust. The shallow pace returned, fucking you fast as your orgasm was given no chance to fall back down.

Only enough strength to reach an arm behind his bed, Oberyn tucked his face into the side of your head. “Again, cum for me again, sweet girl.” His teeth gritted and hissed into your cheek, nose pressed against your skin. “You want me to fill you up?”

“Yes, yes, Oberyn. Gods please,” Oberyns own fingers found your clit and almost tugged and pulled. A contrast of Ellaria’s smooth touch. His cock filling your cunt as the warmth spread through your body.

“Be a good girl, cum for me one more time.” His own moans interrupting his own words as he spoke, “Let me feel you clench around my cock, then I’ll fill you.” He groaned your name as his lips kissed the skin he could reach and his fingers against your clit rough. “I want to fuck you full of me, see it dripping out of this warm, “a rough thrust, “tight” rougher more, “cunt.”

The slap of skin echoed throughout, loud and penetrating like the cock hurling you back to your peak. Both arms now reached back behind his head, as one of his own held onto your breast. Tight and large, as his other remained on your clit as he fucked. “Fuck, fuck, close, sweet girl- thats it,”

Your orgasm had barley even left before it flooded back to you. The pleasure like a storm overtaking your body, your eyes shut so tight you could see colours through the black. Oberyns cock didn’t let up as he continued to slide in and out of you. Thighs below shaking, and not that you felt it at the time, but tears falling down your face as you begged his name.

Oberyn’s hands now gripped tight as he came. His cock thrusting slow and deep inside of you, as you felt his warm cum full you like he promised. Name muffled against your skin as he tucked into your shoulder and neck, filling your cunt with his seed.

Ellaria was near you, her body close and gentle touches soothing you and her lover.

You took longer to come down then Oberyn. His cock still rooted deep inside you as the world around you returned. Ellaria’s lips brushed yours, and her nose nudged against your own before Oberyns fingers tipped your chin to look at him. His brown eyes wide, deep and almost soothing, an intimate desire unlike ever before. For a while he just kissed you, letting his cock soften before slipping out.

His heart beat against your back, and yours beat into Ellaria’s own. There was little sleep to be found that night. It overcame the pair, a more calm confidence towards his fight the next day, but you couldn’t.

Your body drying with sweat and cum staining you, as you slipped from their slumbering holds. You didn’t dress. Not in those. Not in the things given to you for this life you were about to run from.

No once it was early enough you moved. Your hair had grown long, preferred by both Northern and Crownsland men, and it was dyed lighter. Shades lighter then your natural to throw people off, but now you needed to throw off those whom needed to be fooled already. Much of it was cut off. The obscene length now reasonable and short enough to make those double guess you. Then you grabbed the fabric dye. You drenched your hair in dye, a dark colour stained into your hair turning it into a deep blue.

The sun was rising now. The memory of the night before hopefully enough to feed the fire inside of you. Their touch, their lips, the still soreness and ghost of his thick cock remained inside you.

Hopefully, it was enough.

The buzz in the city was almost unbearable. One of the most infamous trials in decades resulting in a true trial by combat, both Champions incredibly skilled and renowned fighters. It would have been refreshing to see much of the excitement was over getting to watch The Red Viper in action for their own eyes, but it was also strange. Tyrion was the one seen as guilty, and much of those who are rooting for Prince Oberyn, were the same people shocked and horrified by Tyrions outburst against them at his trial.

He truly was something else, but he was there for a reason. He was a showman for the people to hide his intentions for another. Whispers of strange questions during the trial that made the audience laugh at it’s embarrassment, but you also knew who he was asking them too. That making people giggle at such lewd questions would make it harder for those with scrutinizing eyes to see him seeking the truth for himself in someone else’s silence.

You had little doubt what today would hold, at least to begin with. Gregor Clegane was large with immense brute strength, but he was also a monstrous and unpopular man. Oberyn Martell was quick, smooth in his movements, unexpected in his strategies, and he was also charming with an overwhelmingly handsome appearance that would tempt a crowd. Most of them didn’t know. They didn’t know the harshness behind his eyes, nor the pain he was determined to force upon the larger man.

Showing off his ego was simply a distraction. Watch him, not what he’s doing.

Walking out the door was easier then never coming back in. You hid yourself away, oversized dark clothes with a hooded robe to hide. Strips of your dress torn and wrapped tight to cover feminine features too obvious and bulk what seemed to dainty. The dye was burning and harsh. Liquids used to colour a fabric being drenched into your hair, the dark colour striking against your skin and would be distraction enough. Cutting it was the easy part. Hair grown down from months into more than a year living in brothels, long hair that looked luxurious like the long hair of a high born girl sliced through. Now sitting just above your now tightly hidden tits, less easy to spot or grab.

Both Ellaria and Oberyn knew you wouldn’t be there to see them off. Oberyn making clear to her where she should be able to find you, were he not there. You would be there, if you could summon the courage to do what was going to be necessary, you would make it. But they also didn’t know how you looked as you snuck quietly into the streets.

Plotting your path, you felt angry with every step. Rage consuming you for how such drastic events needed to take place just to give your life any agency, rage for the pain and horror leading to Oberyn doing what he was about to do. And what that action very well may cost him.

You remember thinking this city was disgusting when you arrived, but now you knew it was disgusting for something so much deeper. This was a city filled with those only interested in what they could gain for themselves. What was right, what as honest wasn’t anything these people cared for, people like you, the lives that could be lost for the sake of a families hatred for one of their own. None of that mattered.

And now as you stood, the water shining bright in the distance, and the quiet splash against the rocks and wood the only sound nearby. One ship was all you cared for now. Not a crew in sight, the threat of a kingsguard the only protection needed for just a transportation ship. You could see two, one older man with hard lines framing a dour face, the other younger and more fresh. Looking at his duty in front of him as if he was the last stand between him and, what? The fish below? You couldn’t tell how young he was, but it was more then yourself. Likely a squire for knights growing up and finally getting his chance to do what he saw them as. That was the easy one.

You knelt on the ground watching, breathing heavily with bare hands curled into the dirt. Most of the men you’ve known in your life would see no struggle with what you were going to do, but you grew up in a cage. Locked away for so long, now only needing the bravery to bite back keeping you from flying through that opening.

There was mostly silence between the two men until the younger one let out a dramatic sigh. “Of all the days to guard a Royal ship, I get the one where I’ll miss the Prince’s fight.”

The older mans eyes rolled to the side. “You complaining?”

Fresh face snapping his neck to the side, “No! No it is an honour, it’s my responsibility and I am forever grateful for it, I just-”

Snappy and annoyed he man croaks out “It’s a duty that’s it. We stand here, we watch empty fucking ships just because they belong to some back water Dornes.”

Fresh face fidgeted back and forth, “I- aren’t they called Dornish...sir?” The older man gave a slow moving glare his way, this was a talkative boy and he wanted no part in it. He just stared and glared making the boy fidget more. “Do you think, would it be permitted...Just some privacy so I can,” Gesturing uncomfortably towards his crotch, “I know we are not supposed to leave our posts, but I can’t with someone-”

“Seven hells, just go and piss already.”

Fresh face had only recently taken up his vows, hoping to make his father proud, normally paired with more experienced Kingsguard. It was supposed to be a learning experience, but for the most part he had hardly seen any action or people around here. If these were the traders docks it might have more to see, but this was a stepping stone perhaps? Test his patience for little action and then he will be trusted with more!

The gravel crunching under his heavy boots he felt much lighter. “Sir, I was wondering if-” His companion wasn’t there. Where a tall heavier set man with deep frown lines stood was empty space. Whipping his head back and forth to spot if he had walked anywhere, he could see the gravel just beyond a wall discoloured strangely.

He gulped and shaking hands tried to find a firm grip on his sword but the just hovered over it trembling all the while. The discolour became drenched in a flowing red, stemming up from strayed about feet. Feet and up with a body laying along with it all, his partner laying down into the path of the curving shore. Blood red seeping from just beyond the surface and an image of is partners head laying just too far below the shore. His own hands matching that of Fresh face’s trembling ones only his were reaching out to him.

One step, two steps closer he begin to hold his hand out when a heavy pressure fell onto his back, enough to lurch him forward but still on two feet, but followed was sharp. A sharp sting against his neck, his eyes straining down to see the blade of a dagger digging into his skin, and a shrouded figure against his back as if jumped onto him. “W- What do you wan-”

The blade pressed more with a shush, the voice higher then he expected. Raspy in whispers against his ear. “You see your friend there?” He nodded just once. “The cut on his neck is too deep for him to move anymore. He’s drowning in there. I didn’t need to go that far.” The head turned closer into his as the raspy voice felt more angry. “But I did to show you how far I’m willing to go if you don’t cooperate. Are you going to cooperate?” Scared and shaking he still nodded his head yes, voice too caught in his throat to speak. “I need a way onto that ship without your guards stopping me. How do I do that?”

Fresh face stammered in place, breaths wheezing and nervous sweat pouring from the teens head. He couldn’t feel the heart pounding against his back, too busy frozen in fear until they pressed the blade deep enough to cut just the slightest bit of skin. “Think fast.”

“N- no no, it’s, its just us-Me! Me it’s just me now for most th-the afternoon. There’s a fight-a tria-” A hand not holding a blade leaned in to grip his jaw in warning. “There’s a change in the evening, only crew shows up during the day. If it’s only guards your worried about it has to be done before evening.”

The shrouded figure pushed their head over to the man, his hands now flat on the ground, still.

“Move him.”

He stammered, trying to look back but the blade kept him forward. “He’s out in the open. Move him.” Fresh face nodded and waited to be let go, but wasn’t. The figure just gestured to the body, so slowly he moved. He was strong but it took effort to pull a stiff now dead man off into an unseen corner alley. Finally dumped off the voice rasped again. “I come back later are you going to be the only one here?”

Just as he nodded, the body seemed to move off his back in time for arms to wrap around his head and neck. Maybe if he weren’t so new he would have figured a way to defend himself, but again he only did this to impress his father, not because he was tough. His vision darkened until he slumped against the ground.

Your hand gripped the dagger now with drying blood so tight your knuckles stung. This was it. You couldn’t go back now, the path was laid out for you and now you took it.

A few moments were spent looking at your actions, until you tore your gaze from the open skin covered in blood on the older man, to the younger one now unconscious. Tearing your eyes around you quickly came to your senses and moved. Tearing fabric from the golden cloak on his back, you grimaced as you pulled his mouth open, putting one bunch in before wrapping another strip tight around his mouth entirely, and bound his hands together.

Empty crates, thrown in a dark alley instead of cleaning them up got pulled over and down from their tossed spots, and laid haphazardly over the men.

From the outside it was dark and off in an inconvenient corner. If you walked in, you could see it, but from here it just looked a tad more of a mess then before. It would have to do. Now there was one location you needed to go to. On foot, this far on the seas edge, it would take a while. Longer to make sure no one either saw you, or noticed you.

You said you wouldn’t go. You promised. But you couldn’t end it like this. If you were really to leave this place with such a shattered heart, you wanted to see him one more time. Regardless of what that would mean. So you walked.

The combat arena was a ways off, and you knew it was only a short while before it started. If you were going to see him one last time now would be it. Maybe you should have more faith in his ability, but you also had faith in your Uncle, in Janus. And all his abilities left him with was a mouthful of blood.

You could hear the crowd first. Cheering, yelling and gasps all around. Approaching all you could see was the back of the area holding the crowd. Trying to make yourself as plain looking as possible, the hood of the robe now up, covering your hair and keeping a shadow on part of your face. For once, your heart pounded, not out of fear from being caught, but for what you were walking in on.

There were sectioned areas beyond the arena for each side of the fight, you could see Ellaria standing tall. Her face was too far to see but you could read her regardless. Still like she was stuck in place, and her body taught with unease.

Tyrion Lannister stood not to far from her. Far shorter then anyone else, but still a man. Just a man. Looking somewhat like you actually, trapped somewhere you had no control over. No matter the outcome, he would have to find a way out too. You hope it won’t involve bloodshed like you, but in this place, that seemed to be the only real solution.

Finally, your side steps came across the outskirt just enough to see movement. Movement, and yelling. You knew his voice, and you finally found footing. Maybe too out in the open, too close to where Lord Tywin could see you, but it didn’t matter.

The large hulk of a man already struggling on the ground trying to push up only to be pierced back down by Oberyns spear. Blood spurting from the wound. The crowd yells in awe as if this was a game still. As if with a spear to the chest Oberyn Martell hadn’t yelled about this man murdering his sisters children.

The Mountain struggled to move, seemed to sputter flecks of blood, with slight gasps. A slice also on his leg bled. Such a beast unable to get up and power through despite widespread talk of being an unstoppable force. What hulking men like The Mountain don’t realize though, is that venom from a Viper is sneaky and cruel. When a Viper bites you, it doesn’t gash and bleed over the floor, it seeps into your blood and strangles you from within. Crawls throughout your body and leaves it’s essence wherever your blood takes it.

Oberyn had told you, posion is more useful when you can’t see it. That doesn’t have to be a weapon just on it’s own, and he also told you some men deserve a slow creeping agony.

The Mountain kept struggling to keep grounded, but Oberyn paced. His spear keeping a home in his chest dripping the wound with a searing fire. It wasn’t enough though. A burning horrid rage had built, and grasped the metal of the rail in front of you, grip tight as red filled more then just The Mountains insides. It filled Oberyn Martell’s eyes with a different kind of agony. One far more angry.

“You can’t die yet, you haven’t confessed.” He yanked the spear from his chest, blood dripping from the end of it.

Don’t do this. Don’t put everything you’ve worked towards fall apart now, you thought. But he kept going. Demanding the mumbling dying monster on the ground say it. “Say her name. Elia Martell. You raped her, you killed her children.”

Your lungs constricted and your hands shook regardless of how tight you held on. Oberyn turned to the man who created this rage. Tywin Lannister sat in the judging seats watching with a his own masked rage. “Who gave you the order?”

Oberyn pointing directly to Tywin. He had no desire to hide the crimes of the elder Lannister. “Who gave you the order?”

He yelled he demanded. “You raped her!”

There was a stark silence in the audience, this was no longer a trial, this was revenge.

“You murdered her!”

Blood rushed so loudly in your veins it felt like you could pass out.

“You killed her children!”

The Viper, hissing and snapping as it overtook the man. Oberyn letting his rage fill him, but there was movement amongst the Mountains. Twitches and flickers of movement as the man found a sense of reality once more. “Say it!”

The Mountain had a mouth once more. “Elia Martell.”

Your entire body jerked, mouth dropping open with a silenced gasp of horror. Oberyn was too close, too close and too blinded by the red of the Viper to see it before the Mountain knocked him to the ground. His disgusting bloody figure covered over as Oberyn grasped at him.

“I killed her children, then I raped her.”

You couldn’t see, you couldn’t see beyond the coldness in your body shaking you from your core, as the Mountain tried to find a grasp on Oberyns skull. Brute strength, Mountains are strong creatures of nature.

Oberyn was too shadowed by a monster to see, all to make out was part of his torso and head, enough to see the arm of that side grasping. “Then I smashed her head in like this!”

It was too late. Blood now was your own vision. The only man who cared in your entire life had died with blood spurting from his mouth as all you could do was turn to watch from atop your escaping horse. That blood has haunted you ever since. You saw the blood every night. You didn’t sleep beacuse of that blood.

Oberyn was there. He decided for himself that you meant something. Not just for some grand scheme for power that had so far tossed you around, no. You meant something to him, something that felt stronger and unique from the love you held for your Uncle. Your love towards Oberyn was a love that felt like future. Was that how he saw you? Felt for you? You didn’t know. All you could see was the blood.

Gasps of horror filled the arena, but not screams. Just blood. But not from the Prince of Dorne.

The Mountain remained hovered in his position but empty was the space below him. Blood dripping from his neck, just like what you forced on the man you killed. Sputtering and unable to control his body.

Above him, stood not a Viper blinded by rage, but a man. One you knew. Oberyn stood over him chest heaving his entire body with each movement, his teeth clenched and eyes still. But he was there. You could only see an arm and flashes of his body on the ground, but he stood, his face without massacre, his skull sat atop his head.

And a blade in is hand. A dagger, metal seared with fresh blood, his hand gripping the hilt yellows draping around it, and if you were to guess, a sun pierced by an arrow at the hilt. Only his, was soaked in a vipers cruel venom.

The Mountain hovered as he strained to gasp before falling in a collapse that echoed throughout. Oberyn approached and kicked with force to flop the man onto his back. The man not moving.

Oberyn had no eyes for glory. He looked at one man and one man only. Tywin Lannister sat in his seat, a face desperate to erupt, but could do nothing now. Slow steps forward Oberyn walked close to where the crowd around him sat.

“The Gods made their judgment.” Oberyn’s voice a grasping husky tone, unblinking at the man before him now. “They’ve seen the truth in your son.” His head turned to look at the bleeding lump on the ground. “Gregor Clegane however,” He turned back to Tywin, Oberyns chin high and spitting words back at him. “Your men, you, on the other hand. Your crimes have been judged guilty. And the Mountain has paid for his sins with his life.”

The two stared at one another. Tywin, finally, knew what it felt like to be trapped with no choice. So he spoke. Tywin stood up, and directed his eyes towards his son. The man he so desperately tried against. They looked one another in the eyes, and finally, presiding judge, Lord Tywin Lannister made the final verdict.

“The Gods have made their will known. Tyrion Lannister, in the name of King Tommen of the House Baratheon, First of His Name, you are hereby, declared innocent.”

The crowd was silent at first, and just as quickly, it erupted. The entire crowd on it’s feet, an overwhelming volume of cheering. A city once so ready to side against a man now cheered. Was it for him, or was it for the show? You didn’t know.

Your body loosened, the trembling and cold slowed down and turned to a warmer relief. Tears built up in your eyes and for now you let them. You had to go. The city was here, and your path still lay empty. You were told to get on the ship, and it was ready, you just had to get there.

It was faint, still a distance between you, but it felt like that first day in the brothel, peeking at the doors threshold watching Oberyn Martell risen up against the blood of a Lannister. The Mountain was just the same. A man so willing to commit monstrous crimes for the Lions that he was simply as one of them.

Oberyn and you looked at each other before he made his way to Ellaria. Body more relaxed, and a softer gaze towards you. He gave a single nod, and so did you. You yearned to stay, to revel in the moment and be with them, but you couldn’t.

Your window of opportunity was closing. Tearing your eyes away from him you turned away. Blood pumping in your ears you saw them everywhere, cloaks of gold everywhere. You don’t know how he knew today was the day you didn’t know, but the Kingsguard now knew your face, some of them too well.

And no amount of fake flattery and fake pleasure would make any of these men disobey an order from the Hand of the King. Your hood stayed up, and your head down enough to maybe get by. Crowds of people swarming the streets of Kings Landing and gold was everywhere. You needed the backstreets. Pacing down the stone path there was dim alley across from you that led away from most general population, it was risky but you knew exactly how to sneak your way down to the docks from there.

Dim and damp, water dripping from overhangs forming puddles below your feet. Each step was far, your toes hitting down first followed by the slow descent of the rest of your foot, not wanting to draw noise to yourself. The Street of Silk has it’s typical bustle of people, so you hung by the entrance of the alley, stretching your neck out so only a peek of your face could be really seen.

The faint carving of a mocking bird sat on the stone wall just within your view and so did the gold. Two Kingsguard stood atop the main step one with arms crossed and the other leaning back letting the other speak as his hand remained on his sword hilt. Olyvar stood at the open entrance seemingly reasoning with their demands, demands you suspect were to come in and search for me.

His head shook and a hand gestured to the other end of he street in frustration. The two glanced over before conferring quietly with each other. As Olyvar shook his head in dismay, his sight strayed far enough to catch yours.

Legs suddenly itching to move, one hand perched onto the walls edge as if to push off. His chin lifting higher as his eyes squinted, debating his allegiance when it was too late. The Kingsguard looking to see what caught his eye more then their interrogation, and there you were.

So you ran, and they followed. You had one advantage of being smaller, your lack of armour making it easy to slide between people but the crowd begun to part as yelling orders to stop were thrown down the way. The clang of metal closing in and thuds of running overpowering the sound of your panting.

People were being shoved just to get out of your way, chattering and protesting drawing more attention to you. Turning quick and trying to make it to a side street, you could see a stand of pomegranates just before the opening. Knocking it over a sea of bright fruit rolled down just distractedly enough that you slid into the alley. Throwing your body you crouched behind a series of crates.

You could hear the metal boots clanging as they passed by one end, but the voices of more on the other side came into earshot. Just beyond the other side of the street, there was enough leverage that if you got a running start you may be able to hop over a small wall.

There wasn’t much more time you could spend in the streets until kingsguard finally made their way to the docks before you did, and there was too long of a stretch between the entrance and inside the ship to go unseen if they were already there. Slowly pulling the robe off, it left you hopefully able to run a bit faster, but you risked being seen by the men now standing in the area asking if someone matching your general description has been around. You needed them to think you were still hiding in the area not making a break for the sea.

But, as it turns out, just maybe Varys hadn’t lied about helping you escape. A small child, dirty and unkempt had been sitting near where you were crouched, searching for valuables in the crates. As you glanced at him, he looked up at you. Your head tilted to the side, eyes widened in warning as you slowly brought a finger up to your lips.

The child though, narrowed his eyes at you in thought, before getting up. The child was so small that even fully on his two feet he barley reached the top of your head lower to the ground. Pulling something out of the pocket of his pants, he handed you a small roll of parchment.

He watched you look at it long enough to see the wax holding it sealed. Red wax, with a three headed dragon in the middle of it. Red wax as its background not black. The metal. It was the same as the metal Varys had slipped you.

You shot your head up to look shocked at the child, who just nodded yes. Copying you he put a finger up to his lips before nodding over to the opening of the alley. As you both approached, the kid made a dash. Knocking himself into the Kingsguard, and grabbing a pouch no doubt filled with gold. The running off in the opposite direction towards the city centre. Both men shouted at him and took off to catch what they assumed was just a terrible desperate little thief.

That sneaky bald headed spider. Truly was always watching.

So you took off running once more. It was easy from there. The poorer the area you passed the less you were to run into someone for you. You skid to a stop, pressing your hands against a wall corner and looked towards the docks.

The ship in question did indeed have crew milling about the area. You glanced to the barley visible entrance where your crimes lay, and to their previous station. You kept your body low, casual as you didn’t look at those you passed. Hoping someone on board did know what you were doing there.

Close in your view now as a man perched right on the edge of the ship over the dock, familiar black curls on his head raised enough to see brown eyes looking at you quickly up and down your person as understanding floated into them.

Moving just enough to meet where you were, you took a step forward as well before distinct questioning voices approached. Both you and the man seeing the golden cloaks you had come to so terribly despise. There was little time for you to think, the man had reached out his arm and pulled you up to the open sides.

It was just enough to give you the space to fling your legs over the side. With little grace you simple let yourself drop, your hands taking the weight of the fall onto your side. The slam still knocked your head against the wooden deck. Sliding one stinging hand to grasp part of your head as your ears rung.

Voices sounding like they were underwater , or you were. There were three and they were all close enough to shake yourself out of how dizzy you felt. Back leaning against the side, kneels pulled up to your chest as you forced slow breaths instead of the frenzied one your pounding heart demanded. One hand had the handle of the dagger with an unnecessarily tight grip.

An accent voice said something that you could really only make words out from the fog inside your head. “Thief” and “flea” something something “took off”.

You’re body finally sunk from its tension as you heard one patronizing voice interrupt the other. “We ask that you report any more incidents from this...thief... at once if any should occur. This is a private matter of the Crown.”

The ringing dimmed to a stop finally. “Whatever his Lordship commands.” Now that was much more patronizing, but it made you smirk. Picturing the guards no doubt leaving with insulted faces.

With a thud, your head tapped against its resting place behind you, eyes shutting as you let all the air out. Hand having yet to let go of the dagger as your curled fingers creaked from the tightness of your grip. It almost felt like a trick, a trap set now ready to sail you off and lock you away for use elsewhere. Nothing about what you had done and seen today felt real.

Opening your eyes as you exhaled audibly once more, you looked up to find the same man, features you now see more clearly as quite Rhoynish. Your steel gaze followed his body squatting down to your level. A soft smile on his face. “Lady Slate. My name is Yandry, Acting Captain of this vessel. I’ve looked forward to your arrival.”

You almost felt frozen, unsure of what you were supposed to do. Your hope went as far as getting to the ship, but your mind was mostly plagued with what if you got caught instead. Preparing as if you wouldn’t possibly get this far.

Yandry seemed to catch on to your hesitation. “You have been through a lot, my lady. But I promise you, you’re safe aboard here.” His gaze looked down to your hand and you lurched your body away from him. Putting his palm out slowly, “No harm will come to you here, I won’t ask for you to give that up. But I will ask that you come with me, get you somewhere less out in the open. At least while we remain in the capitol.”

Finally you nodded. Hand letting go of the dagger, you tell him your name. “No need for formalities. Dead women can’t hold titles afterall.” And finally put your hand in his.

Yandry smiles, “Let’s get you off the floor shall we?” Pulling you up you put a hand bracing on the banister to steady your other half. Walking down the length of the open deck, he introduced names as he passed by, each man polite and welcoming. “We have an unused cabin you can rest in.”

You raised your eyebrows in question. “Ellaria was adamant you be allowed to have your own space if you so choose. Doesn’t want you to feel trapped in with her and Prince Oberyn should you need some privacy.”

You nodded as he slowed his pace slightly, just before steps downwards into the expansive ship. “The Prince, would you-” He looked away and his hand meaningless gestured into the air trying to come up with the right words. “The fight, do you know if he,” trailing himself off as if not wanting to curse the outcome by simply speaking its possibility.

You nodded this time more firmly. Not so much a smile, but a bit more brightness on your face. “He did.” Yandrys shoulders relaxed as you restarted your path, “I’m not sure who’s more angry. Lady Cersei for picking the losing Champion, or Lord Tywin for being outsmarted by him.”

Nudging you in through the hall doors before him, he chuckled. “Pissing off Lannisters isn’t exactly something he is unfamiliar with.”

Leading you into a small cabin, he stood by the door to give you space to investigate. “It’s smaller than Prince Oberyn and Ellaria’s quarters, but it’s comfortable enough.” He watched as your back stayed facing towards him.

Looking around the room, once again. Like it was fake. Or a trick. Like this would wash away and you would be somewhere trapped once more, maybe worse. But you weren’t, at least not now. You spun quickly to face him, “I-” there was too much to ask, and not enough words in your mouth to say them. “Thank you.”

Yandry took the difficulty making eye contact and the whispered thanks as his cue to go. If the Prince had indeed won the trial by combat, then he would be undoubtedly demanding they leave sooner rather then later. “Until we set sail, I suggest trying to stay out of sight on the main deck. Those Kingsguard do like to hover. But anything you need, just find any of us and ask.”

Watching you nod once more, he quietly shut the door behind him. Leaving you in the silence, only the faint sounds of splashing rocks on the shore and loud jabber from the crew muffling into the walls.

Slowly you raised the dagger out of it’s hold, tenderly grasping it in your fingers as you looked at the blade. Blood now dried and stained over the metal, now shot up and splashed in your face once more. This time the blood wasn’t the distant image of a man bleeding out as you ran off on horse. No this time was different.

The blood infecting the water just above a drowning man, the splatter as it fell all over the ground with a single slash. Blood splattering up and spraying through the air as the spear was both plunged and pulled from the Mountains chest. And the blood pouring onto the ground as the Mountain lost consciousness.

But you weren’t a Viper. You weren’t anything anymore. Just a girl who sliced a mans neck open.

Burning your hand you tossed the dagger onto the table in front of you. The clank as it landed and laying unceremoniously amongst the other amenities. It was nothing to the state of this room, but the blood still haunted you.

Your heart pounded harder and harder, strength losing you as you stumbled back into the edge of the bed behind. You didn’t even make it, you just stopped fighting it, and slid onto the ground in front of it. If this were a trap, then you would simply wake back up in it’s nightmare. Maybe you should. Maybe this fantasy was all in your head.

It was hard to tell, you felt a dense fog forming in your head, and before you knew it, the need to sleep begun to pull you under it’s spell you before you could spiral any further. You were exhausted, eyes dipping shut. The faint yelling of Oberyn demanding him to “say her name” “Elia Martell” echoing through your mind. Maybe you imagined that too.

If you did, it didn’t matter. Sleep overtook you before it could linger any longer.

Your dreams were scattered, images of blood taken by your hands morphed into a monstrous void, memory of Oberyn kicking over the Mountain shifted into a nightmare of watching his skull crushed beneath his opponents hands, an echo of Ellaria’s screams before fading once more. The sea of faces and touches of men in brothels seared your skin as the dreams passed you by, watchful eyes and whispers surrounding you. The scene playing in front of you, your father, the bruises, the degradation, the horror, the swords plunging into an empty bed and the spear through your Uncle’s body. You slipped between it all as the voices faded in and out. Some sounded familiar, some sounded even closer then others, but it all swirled around you until you felt like you had fallen backward. Careening into the void once more before the lurch of your heart brought you back.

The cabin. Now splayed out differently then you remembered, you slowly lifted your head to see instead of the floor you fell against, you were laid out gently on the bed, a thin sheet over top you. Sitting up, the sheet pooled in your lap, letting you see your clothes had been changed and the blood and grime on your body cleaned.

The ship seemed to sway with a natural flow as the sound of water muffled through the walls. Slowly you slipped out of the bed and stood up. The room looked about the same, only with some food and water left for you on the table. Throat dry you easily swallowed down the water, but you eyes were not on the food, but of the dagger laid neatly on the table as well. The blood on the dagger now dried, staining the metal with your crime. Alongside it were the only 2 belongings you had now. The small note with the strange wax seal, untouched for you to read still, and the metal sigil. The same crest painted across it, and still leaving you wondering just how little of this world’s plans you may never know.

The note and metal sigil found a place in the neatly cropped pants placed on you in your sleep, but your hands hovered over the dagger. Trembling as you picked it up, the decorative handle shining brightly against the blade covered in filth. The blood in your eyes no longer a reminder of your own loss, but now of your actions.

It was a good few minutes you stood, hands gently holding each end of the blade before you looked up again. There was a slight view of the bright sun against blue water from the small windows looking out, beckoning you to come see it.

Tucking the dagger away on you, you slowly made your way to push open the door. Crew was scattered about doing their duties, some greeting you with a polite hello, others simply nodding before turning their attention back to their duties.

The steps up to the deck felt almost too bright. The sun once so hard to see from the inner depths of the brothels and dim streets now fell unhindered on the deck above. The blue in the sky unobstructed by any cloud, it was by all accounts beautiful. Each step you took up the sunshine seemed to get too bright, like it penetrated right through your eyes and tried to blind you.

The air once you reached the deck was crisp, fresh and clean as the ship sailed on the open water. The sound of the waves filled your ears with a clarity you’ve never before experienced. Trapped within walls and surrounded by woods and forests or dirty streets, the water now sounded so loud. The clean air smelling so different, as if it let you breathe easier.

Crew were more about on the deck, talking and shouting, some of which you recognized but none of these Dornish crew were the ones you wanted to see. Near the back of the ship, you found yourself stepping towards the barrister. Land nowhere near in sight, not a hint of Kings Landing, so why did you not feel better?

Why did you still see the blood? You hadn’t even realized it before it was in your hands once more, but you began to pull the dagger out. Eyes on the vast open water shooting down to the metal. Fingertips just barley holding onto each far end, but the blood staining the blade held firm. It stained the blade dirty, as if mocking you. It screamed at you. You cannot just cleanse your own sins by cleaning it, maybe you shouldn’t. Maybe you deserve the reminder.

You couldn’t be sure how long it was you stood there, blade in your hands and eyes trained on the blood just as much as your mind saw the blood in your memory. The sip of water from earlier had long since left you parched but you felt unable to move. Let your throat ache and burn raw.

Small parts of your brain begged to know where Oberyn and Ellaria were. Maybe they weren’t on this ship, maybe they wanted to travel home away from you, or hadn’t even left Kings Landing, celebrating Oberyns victory over the cruel man with blood on his hands. It was hard to focus on them though, not while you stared at the blade.

Your breathing quickened as you stood for longer, heart pumping blood furiously as your dreams flashed in front of you as real as they felt then. Your eyes stung with unshed tears as your fingers gripped tighter. Were you trembling or was your vision just shaky from tension?

You wanted to drop it, throw it into the sea, break it apart or let it finish your sins by washing you away too, but none of that happened. In fact, the trembling stopped.

A large, warm hand gripped the top of yours on the dagger handle, and a body hovered over you from behind. The hand prying your fingers out of the daggers grasp and it slipped it away from you, tucking it somewhere you couldn’t see.

The hands spun you around to face their owner. Oberyn’s eyes reflected so beautifully in the sunlight, the brown now stark and full of colour like the rest of him. His face watching the tears in your eyes desperate to let go, the shake in your hands tremble in your entire body. One hand tilted your chin up to look him in the eye as your hands tried to find a home on his chest, but the tremble turned to a shake.

The images were too real, and the blood you shed felt too present. All at once you felt yourself falling, onto to be caught in Oberyns arms. Your face now tucked into his chest, protected from the world as his lips found the top of your head, whispers of calm nothings falling onto deaf ears as the tears fell.

It was almost too much. What was done was too much right then, and it all spilt over as you cried into his arms. Mutterings of your name came through the noise, but he demanded nothing.

You don’t know the last time true tears came out like this, and you don’t know how long they fell, but Oberyn stayed firmly with you in his grasp until they had finally stopped. Your watery red eyes looking up into his handsome face as one of your own hands cupped his cheek. And in a chaste kiss, a kiss much more for long lovers then for whores, his lips found yours.

This time as you stood at the ships end, looking out in the water, Oberyns arms were around your front, at least one on you at all times. He had made a quiet request to a passing crewman as his thumbs were stroking away the scattered tears still on your face before you had found yourselves standing as such.

Now one such hand was toying with the shorter strands of hair now sitting loose and free. Chuckling at the odd colour now firmly dyed in it, “Not exactly what I remember your hair looking like all those years ago, but I like this far better then the absurdly long light hair you tried to hide under.”

Your own fingers came to toy with the end of the strands his own held, “I thought I should just wash it out, but I don’t know. The blue could be interesting.”

“Not a very Westerosi colour, that’s for certain.” Both you and Oberyn smiled at the approaching voice. Ellaria was almost more beautiful now then in the drab capitol. Her and Oberyn matched in pastels that let their skin breathe in the open air, and her face lit up just as much as the sun.

Oberyns hands slipped from your body as you and Ellaria fell into each others embrace. Her lips wasting no time finding yours, and you returned just as much. Both of you pulling apart only when your smiles made the kiss impossible to continue.

Her arms around you as you walked back over to Oberyn, him pulling you back into his chest once more as Ellaria hugged into his side, with her touch still on you. “We could pass you off as Tyroshi, a beautiful girl from Tyrosh travelled all the way to Dorne to explore the world and fell in love with more than just the city.”

You could feel Oberyns chest vibrate in chuckles, his own deeper voice much closer to your ear, “Doran and I have discussed a few options, for now though that may not be such a bad idea.” His head tilted so he could lean into Ellaria’s, pressing his lips against her hair. “Keeping your identity to just a few of us, until we figure out the safest way to protect you without having to hide you.”

You sagged slightly in his hold, the very concept loomed over your existence. Ellaria was quick to elaborate though, “Not like that, sweet girl. With us, in Dorne you are free to be yourself, he and Doran just need to make sure you are also safe to those outside of our own borders.”

Doran was the one you had met when you were younger. You remember him being kind and welcoming, but also distant and stoic. In many ways he was a lot like the reputation most Northerners get, quiet and guarded many but he was also warm to those he loves. If he and Oberyn had discussed what to do about telling people your real identity, then he must be willing to welcome you into his home. At least into Dorne.

Your home though, you hadn’t really had one before. Not one that felt like what home is supposed too. “And when I’m in Dorne, where...where am I to stay? Where would I go?”

There was a pause, long enough to get you to turn and look at the pair. Ellaria had a hand on her mouth covering her laughter as she looked at Oberyns offended but confused face. He leaned into you, his eyes narrowing almost playfully. “I’m not sure I made it quite clear little girl, but you,” he yanked you in close by your hips, his nose bumping yours as you fell into his personal space. “Are staying with us, with me and Ellaria. In our home. Your home.” His nose rubbed against yours as his hands now caressed the skin under your shirt just slightly. “I told you, the only thing I wanted from you was you heart. And there's nowhere I’d rather keep that, then with me where it belongs.”

Reaching out blindly you felt Ellaria’s smooth hand find your fingers, and pulled her closer, her hands wrapping around your stomach behind you, and you moved to cup the sides of Oberyns face. “I don’t know what the future holds for me, or what it wants from me, but just promise me I have a place with you at the end of it all.”

Oberyn cupped your face to match, pulling you up to look at his eyes, your name rolling gently off of his tongue. “Your home is with us, no matter what. I promise.”

As his lips found yours, tongue teasing and tracing yours, Ellaria’s hands traced along your torso, her own lips gently pressing against the side of your neck. Your head growing light with the need to breathe, you only could just pull from Oberyns mouth trying to mould yours to stay with his. He leaned in and bit at your bottom lip, tugging at it and watching it bounce back into place as you giggled at his greed.

Dorne would fade into view eventually, as would plans begin to form once more. The world around you three raged regardless of these moments together and it will demand your attention one way or another. The note, the sigil both sat on your person to one day be called upon, but that’s not what mattered now. Not this moment you spent in the arms of two people finally giving you love. For now, your morning was spent looking out into a bright blue water with the sun lighting the sky brighter then you’ve ever known.

Your fate was unknown, but in the arms of Oberyn Martell, you knew he wouldn’t let go of those he loves without a fight.

#oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell imagine #oberyn martell x female reader #Oberyn Martell x reader x Ellaria Sand #Oberyn Martell x female reader x Ellaria Sand #Oberyn Martell x you x Ellaria Sand #game of thrones fanfiction #a song of ice and fire fanfiction #oberyn martell fanfiction

[loustyleshtommo]

Taylor Swift’s TTPD Song Theory: The Alchemy

I believe The Alchemy is about Karlie Kloss showing up at the Eras Tour postpartum, while Travis Kelce is another red herring.

He’s a counterfeit. She is 24 karat magic in the air~

And that this is Taylor writing from Karlie’s perspective. Here’s how:

The Alchemy

This happens once every few lifetimes.

It’s how IVF works. Not all embryos get implanted. Not all pregnancies are viable. (Higher miscarriage rate than traditional conception). It feels like a miracle when it results in a healthy baby.

These chemicals hit me like white wine./He jokes that it’s HEROIN but this time with an ‘E’

Epidural used to assist childbirth can make you feel drowsy. That’s where the ‘E’ comes from. Mama also had to give up white wine due to pregnancy, so she hadn’t felt tipsy in a while.

Heroin + e = Heroine

Taylor in Don’t Blame Me: My drug is my baby I’ll be using for the rest of my life

Reputation muse is her heroine.

Also, how sweet it is to call your wife a heroine for giving birth to your child. I’m grinning from ear-to-ear every time I hear this line.

What if I told you I'm back?

The hospital was a drag

Worst sleep that I ever had

This is Karlie showing up at The Eras Tour concert only days postpartum.

I circled you on a map

Confirming that she was a muse for reputation. (End Game: I buried hatchets but I keep maps of where I put them.)

Or, even sweeter interpretation: They drew circle around their baby in the ultrasound pictures taken during pregnancy. Taylor’s baby in Karlie’s tummy. That’s the most adorable mental picture ever.

I haven't come around in so long

But I'm coming back so strong

Remember Karlie at the reputation tour? That was after kissgate and love blackout. So many people were saying they hated each other then. And so many people mocked her for coming to the Eras Tour. How strong is she that she refused to let anything stop her from coming to support Taylor? Not the public opinions, nor recent childbirth can stop this mother.

So when I touch down

The continuation of Call It What You Want: My baby’s fly like a jet stream

Call the amateurs

I’m biased and think this line is about Swifties who chased Easter Eggs but couldn’t see Karlie embed into the heart and soul of Taylor’s songs.

And cut 'em from the team

bridges burn, I never learned

Ditch the clowns, get the crown

All the jokers dressing up as king

Baby I'm the one to beat

This is so cute. Taylor wrote from Karlie’s perspective here and really said Karlie KNOWS with absolute certainty that she is the King of My Heart.

Cause the sign on your heart

Said it's still reserved for me

Again with the ‘Karlie knows I am in love with her so utterly and completely, always

Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?

And the sweetest thing about this being from Karlie’s pov is that, she already made damn sure Taylor knows, that Karlie doesn’t blame her at all for the bearding/fake love for the crowd. That’s how Taylor gets the confidence to write this whole song in such a way that could be attributed to the guy on the chief. He’s not the real muse, like the alchemy that doesn’t make real gold.

Hey you, what if I told you we're cool?

That child's play back in school

Is forgiven under my rule

This is Karlie at the Eras Tour responding to Taylor’s inability to hide how smitten she was for Karlie, especially during ‘betty’ performance. James is down bad.

I haven't come around in so long

But I'm making a comeback to where I belong

Again a reiteration of Karlie showing up to support Taylor at her concerts since 1989 to reputation tour, and now The Eras Tour. It’s as reassuring as the repeating chorus. But do you know what changes? The two lines about giving birth to IVF baby that she opens and closes the song with. In the beginning, there’s only one leading vocal. At the end, there are two vocals in harmonies. Like how Taylor and Karlie have transitioned from being moms of one kid to two kids. And they’ve been so in love through it all.

These blokes warm the benches

We been on a winning streak

Once again with the reassurance. Karlie made sure that Taylor knows no matter how much bearding they have to do, the love they have for each other never wanes.

Shirts off,

The many outfits change Taylor does in every concert.

and your friends lift you up over their heads

I Did Something Bad Choreography: Go ahead and light me up.

Beer sticking to the floor

Shout out to swifties drunk on alcohol AND fun during the concert

Cheers chanted,

ONE, TWO, THREE, LET’S GO BITCH among many others

‘cause they said

There was no chance, trying to be the greatest in the league

Again, with reference to reputation era and how Taylor was not the mass media’s favorite at all, at the time.

Where's the trophy?

Not Taylor calling herself Karlie’s trophy wife. HAHAHAHAHAHAHSJK

He just comes running over to me

James is still just as down bad for Betty now as ever.

Thank god for Travis’s team winning, otherwise this sweetest song would’ve been scrapped for being too obviously not about him.

#kaylor #gaylor #taylor swift #karlie kloss #the tortured poets department #song analysis #the alchemy #track 15 #please like and reblog I need validation

[bahbahhh]

PLS TALK TO ME ABOUT "BEGIN AGAIN" I WOULD DO SOOOO MANY ILLEGAL THINGS TO READ IT FOR THE FIRST TIME AGAIN </3333333

Oh man, begin again. Where do I, well, begin?

It started with the end — that is, the first I knew was I wanted to write a story that ended with Link giving Zelda Hateno house.

I became obsessed pretty early on in my play-through of totk with the changes between it and botw. And when I say obsessed, I mean annoyed. I love botw. I love the world and the landscape and the characters and the story. It just felt like too much was wiped away without explanation and I decided, damnit, I was going to fix that.

Here are so fun facts/ hidden gems/Easter eggs:

Chapter 1

She is not aware of a word that accurately describes the feeling of being forgotten by the person you tethered your heart to; to have it remain connected to that person and witness it drift behind them, becoming more of a dark cloud than guiding light.

This is a little nod to like someone would. I totally Link runs from his destiny a little bit before he faces CG. And writing from Zelda’s POV, I felt like I had to recognize the pain of witnessing that.

He jokingly calls it an ‘adventure pouch’.

Call back to SS!

Chapter 2

“Even the Divine Beasts?”

“Especially those,” he asserts.  

Another nod to like someone would Link. I always feel like, similar to how SS Link would have hesitation being a child of the sky entering temples, especially underground, this Link would hate entering the divine beasts. It feels like a living tomb. I wanted this contrast between he and Zelda’s perspective where, earlier, she thinking about all the ways they could be repurposed to help Hyrule, Link only sees how it can fall again. And the pain they have already caused.

“It trapped his soul inside his body,” King Dorephan says.

I hc Link was very much dead in botw. The shrine of resurrection essentially tethered his soul to his body long enough for it to be prepared so his soul could be convinced to remain inside. I have a wip sitting around about Link’s time in this stasis and how all three of this trio (Zelda, Ganondorf, and Link have all spent some time in it) but who knows if I’ll write it.

To this group, so revitalized by new hope, united and rising from a hundred years of ruin, her proposal of clinging to their ashes might feel like poison. 

Like malice.

I’m a little obsessed with thinking about and justifying how at any given point, Zelda and Link could become a calamity as well.

“You said you think the Shrines work like the Divine Beasts? So in theory, those stopped working because our friends—” Grief, unexpected and sudden, crackles in her voice. She clears her throat. Pivots. “You can’t use their gifts any longer, right?”

Link flexes his fingers slowly. Like he’s just missing something that keeps passing through his fingers. “I let them go.”

This was a very important change I wanted to spend time on: The champion’s gifts. It broke my heart to think when mummy ganon attacked Link, he stole their gifts (essentially their souls) away from Link. And I decided it lined up with Link’s characterization in this story, that he would let them go versus hold onto them longer than needed. He especially, down to his very core, knows what that is like.

> Rest? <

I wanted a plausible explanation for how the shrines disappeared from the map and I just thought this was so clever when I came up with it, hah. That souls fixed for so long, so dedicated and driven by purpose might need permission to let go (HINT HINT ZELDA) And also, Link had the answer all along because, essentially, it’s what he did for the Champions when they let the gifts go.

Chapter 3

A bit of a logistics chapter but I wanted to wrap it around moments of feeling. Grief and living with grief is a huge theme through the entire story. I just love the “I’m 18” scene and how she’s physically moving forward before she’s emotionally there.

With her soul is exposed and pulsing like a nerve, she can sense the entirety of the Sheikah Technology network - all the shrines, every guardian, the towers stretching up into the sky, the furnaces burning outside the Labs - all these things without a mouth suddenly have one, and they open wide and desperate, and begin to siphon energy from her.

In theory, since the Sheikah tech runs on soul energy, I felt like it would make sense it has a hard time recognizing what is fuel and what I not. So every time Link fast travels, it’s like he’s bargaining with the horned statue. I always felt like you should lose a half heart when you fast travel in botw.

I was a little nervous it would fit with the story, but I really love the letters. It was the perfect opportunity to show Link has a lot going on in his head behind his few spoken words.

It does feel fast, but at the end of it all, it's just another year. Important things take time. 

This comes back in chapter 6 when Link tells Zelda how he feels about her.

You want to know where my favorite place in Hyrule is? There is a spring on top of a waterfall north of Lake Floria. It's where I first saw Farosh. Came right out of the water and climbed up into the sky above my head. Nearly scared me to death. I can’t really explain it well, but it's where I realized I wanted to actually be here. Ruins and wild and all. It's where I realized I wanted to be the one to save Hyrule. To save you.

Another like someone would reference. Also laying foundation of Link connecting with dragons…light dragon feels.

It’s just, sometimes it feels like this destiny asks too much, you know? 

This is a big theme in the depths au. A lot of my stories are connected/have passages that inspired others.

Chapter 4

The shrine Link got sick from was Noya Neha shrine. It’s next to Hyrule castle and it’s a cave shrine. I wanted to subtly introduce gloom sickness in a way it would take several years to become a problem consistent enough for Hyrule to pay attention to. In the beginning, I see it as something just chalked up to a random virus/illness. While Link and Zelda have more of a resistance to it, I argue because of all the fast travel and not taking the best care of himself for weeks, he was in a weakened state and more susceptible to the gloom in the cave.

“What are you talking about? Who will–” Paya freezes as Impa pulls off her hat, revealing a thin coil of silver braid on the top of her head that partially uncoils and drops down by her ear. 

It only felt right that Impa would drop a bomb on Paya and announce her retirement so casually.

The thin coil braid is a nod to SS Impa.

Calamity Ganon could easily be mistaken for a dragon. Can you imagine? Facing off against a wicked version of Dinraal or Farosh?

Foreshadowing the demon dragon.

You can clearly see she was Hylian by the ears, but the hero has none of Link’s features. He barely looks human. They chose the Champion blue from the color found in the threads that make up the ancient hero’s armor, but up close, she can see it’s a blending. They could have just as easily gone with green.

Nod the ancient hero’s aspect design. I’m so desperate to make this feel connected to botw because it doesn’t, haha.

‘It needed to heal,’ he signs. ‘I decided to let it.’

Again, an easy way to let Link’s characterization explain the detail of them having to retrieve the Master Sword before they descend under castle to investigate in the opening to totk and the Master Sword needing/being able to heal (Zelda’s decision to swallow the stone in totk).

Chapter 5

“Strong name.” The old man tugs off his hat and bows his head. “My name’s Toffa, by the way. My grandfather was head groom for the Royal family a century ago, Princess. His name was Talon.”

Nod to OoT.

Link drops down beside Zelda with two plates of food. He sets one in her lap, ignoring Tauro completely until Zelda picks it up. He’s unusually close. There is a strange edge to him; she feels it along the long line of his thigh against hers. Like she's thumbing the edge of a blade.

It was really fun to make Link a little jealous of Tauro and Zelda be completely oblivious to it.

I just love the entire Riju and Zelda scene. It felt really important for me to spend some time on Zelda facing her grief with Urbosa. I wrote a scene in the Killing Moon where Zelda uses Urbosa’s sword to cut her hair and I loved it so much I wanted to keep that theme with explaining her haircut. And of course, the most simple change between games (Zelda’s appearance) became a moment of a deeper significance.

Chapter 6

“It’s just, I remember reading that the Rito were once thought to be water dwelling.”

Nod to fandom lore Rito evolved from Zora.

“Our ears. They used to be longer.”

Another nod to fandom lore. Hylian ears once being longer to hear messages from goddesses. Sonia longer ears.

Purah’s change in appearance felt like an important change to spend some time on, not just because she’s suddenly older but also why Robbie and Impa didn’t de-age, too. It stands to reason, the same tech that ages her up could be used to alter Robbie and Impa’s age.

The air is damp and heavy. It smells – she thinks about Link and the cave shrine – funnier than it should. Musty and mineral and sickly sweet, like something is rotting behind the bedrock.

Another tiny foreshadowing of gloom.

“Just burn it.” She hears her father in the harshness of her tone. There is ink on her fingers. 

Fun fact- this is happening in the exact spot you get the memory in botw where her father scolds her.

“The song you are humming,” She fails to keep the edge out of her tone. “What is it called?”

He’s humming the song of storms in this scene. It’s why storm clouds are approaching and Farosh flies overhead.

“Kondo. The court poet’s name was Kondo. He was a Sheikah.”

Nod to the music composer for many of the iconic LoZ themes- Koji Kondo!

‘I choose you. Do you choose me?’

I wanted to say I love you without saying I love you. And for these two, bonded by destiny, choosing each other feels so much stronger, more significant and romantic to me than a declaration of love alone.

Chapter 7

The entire scene of her walking through the village and being stopped multiple times is my explanation why she eventually wants/needs the secret well.

I wrote the first passage of the story- Zelda wanting a bed- and the last passage - Zelda getting a bed/house- at the same. I broke it up when I gave it to my beta reader and only edited it a little when it was time to put it into the final chapter.

#thanks for giving me a reason to revisit all my notes on begin again #I’m so proud of this story #and Zelmo is such an amazing beta #b!talks #begin again

[dailybridgerton]

Stepping into the title role of Queen Charlotte — originated by the inimitable Golda Rosheuvel — would be a massive challenge for any actor. But India Amarteifio (Doctor Who, Sex Education), who plays the young queen in the new Bridgerton prequel spinoff, was a perfect fit for the role. “India Amarteifio is just brilliant,” says series director Tom Verica. “She provides the canvas for someone who’s going to learn the rules and the ways of this world very quickly and use that to her advantage.”

Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story turns the clock back to the iconic queen’s early years in London, beginning with her arranged marriage to King George (Corey Mylchreest). “What’s really exciting about this show is finding how to bridge the character that we know, the boldness of who she is, with how young Charlotte learns to breathe and grow into the power that she now possesses,” says Verica. “I had big shoes to fill,” adds Amarteifio, “Not only as young Charlotte, because Golda has created an iconic role, but just entering the [series’] sphere itself.”

Like the new actor entering the exciting world of Bridgerton, Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story finds the young Charlotte making her entrée into an unfamiliar London society and finding mentors and lifelong friends in the young, and newly titled, Lady Agatha Danbury (Arsema Thomas) and a young Brimsley (Sam Clemmett), always following five footsteps behind. “He is more than her right hand, he is her stability, her guidance,” says Amarteifio of the queen’s relationship with her ever-present servant. “Brimsley is the only person in Charlotte’s life who is stable, gives her a voice of reason, and is someone to come home to, really.”

While charting their pasts, the new series also continues Bridgerton characters’ Regency-era stories with Golda Rosheuvel’s Queen Charlotte trying to figure out how to marry off just one of her many children to produce a legitimate heir, with the support of Lady Danbury (Adjoa Andoh) and Lady Violet Bridgerton (Ruth Gemmell). “Thinking about dynasty and hierarchy and the next generation takes us into thinking about how these relationships were formed, how they last, the ups and downs of these relationships,” explains Andoh.

As Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story producer Betsy Beers puts it, the new series is, “absolutely classic Shonda Rhimes because it is this beautifully precise and very unique combination of humor, pain, conflict, elegance, excitement — all in the face of events that seem to be unmanageable and insurmountable.” And Rosheuvel issues a challenge to Bridgerton fans, “The universe just kind of cycles and swirls within itself, so it would be really interesting to see whether the fans notice little nuances and Easter eggs that we’ve put in both productions.”

#bridgertonedit #bridgerton #queen charlotte #queen charlotte: a bridgerton story #qcabsedit #qcabs s1 #images #news #liz

[last-ofthe-starks]

HOTD episode six easter eggs and thoughts

Out the gate I immediately noticed the difference in the cinematography, the first two scenes are all one take and it’s incredibly impressive. As the show runners stated, this was meant to feel like a new pilot episode for the series as we reboot with new, older versions of actors. As a book reader, it worked for me. As a non-book reader, I’d be curious how it felt to watch. 

The relationship between Rhaenyra and Laenor is established so quickly and with so few words. Their conversation following the birth of Joffrey makes it very clear that not only is Laenor fine with the arrangement they have, but he is often tone deaf and oblivious to Rhaenyra’s daily life. We see that the two are companions but it’s made clear that Rhaenyra is still the stronger of the two personalities, and understands the larger game being played here. It was also interesting to see that the naming of their third son was not a mutual decision in which Rhaenyra agreed and showed great sympathy for Laenor, but a last ditch effort by Laenor to have some input in his own life. 

Fuck you Criston Cole. His smug face just irks me, so very well done by Fabien Frankel. The one critique I have over this is that his clear and utter hatred of Rhaenyra and her children is not properly fleshed out. Right now with the time jump, it doesn't give a clear motivation for his anger; many viewers of last weeks episode still interpreted his anger at Rhaenyra incorrectly, and believe it was due to him being in love and heart broken. In reality it stems much deeper than that, and I think the viewers would have benefited from at least one conversation (likely between Criston and Alicent) where he makes it very clear that it was not so much his heart being broken by Rhaenyra that turned him, it was her disregard for his honor and his perceived understanding that she did not care for the consequences of their actions. In reality it takes two to tango and you could see very clearly that he had many opportunities to stop and didn’t so, sorry Criston. I do not feel bad for you. 

Moving right along, fuck you to Alicent and her faux concern when Rhaenyra enters her chambers. WHAT A SCENE and introduction to Olivia Cooke’s Alicent. Her character has an interesting arch over the course of this episode, starting with sheer cruelty in order to make a point that her husband refuses to entertain or acknowledge. Because of this rejection of the truth, Alicent is closing in on wits end. In her mind, the search for honor and truth trump the love a father has for a daughter, and Viserys dishonors them all by allowing Rhaenyra to get away with her actions. And I can’t say she is wrong, because Rhaenyra has dishonored her family, and has been able to get away with a lot thanks to Viserys’s protection. But he is the King, and Alicent will do everything in her power to try and undermine and sandbag him, including this shitty scene where she pulls Rhaenyra from labor to present her child to her. To me there is no excuse for that. 

Ah, Viserys. Man is looking ROUGH in this episode and Paddy Considine deserves an award for wearing all those prosthetics. Viserys is a wonderful grandfather and father in this episode (in that he clearly loves his children and grandchildren beyond measure) and it’s a shame how in the dark he is. Or rather, how keeps himself there by choosing to look the other way when it comes to Rhaenyra. There are still glimpses of him not being completely oblivious (like accusing Aegon of being the mastermind behind the pig), but overall he continues to create problems for himself and everyone around him. 

Speaking of the kids and grandkids, this is the new era of this show finally appearing on screen and I have to say, I wasn’t disappointed. With 10 years between this episode and last, there is a ton of information missing here, but they showed us rather than told us who these kids were. They allowed us to see their personalities in the short amount of air time each had individually and the dynamics of them all were clearly presented. 

Jace and Luke are adorable little fire crackers, and it’s interesting to see how they appear to get along fine with Aegon and Aemond at the beginning of the episode. Then we start to see that they tend to side with Aegon since he is the clear leader, and alienate Aemond. Aemond is presented as a very insecure, shy boy and that is what motivates his storyline moving forward. With next to no dialogue I picked up on that. Next is Helaena, who is depicted as a very learned girl with interests likely considered perverse for the time. She is an important character and this is the first time we see her properly so I am curious how she will be presented next time. She also makes an interesting comment “he’ll have to close an eye” which is incredible foreshadowing.

Aegon is a twat. But I do like that we can clearly see that before Alicent’s interference, he was friendly with Rhaenyra’s kids and a typical oblivious teenage boy with no real understanding of his role. The actor did a great job with him.

The CGI on Vermax in the dragon pit is incredibly well done, once again they are killing it with the dragons, including our first sighting of Vhagar. 

Daemon and Laena are a power couple like no other and I love the sequence of them racing their dragons, looking all happy. It only that happiness were lasting. Similar to Rhaenyra’s storyline, all looks like Daemon’s life has been happy and care free for the past 10 years, but the longer we watch the more cracks we can see in their relationship. 

The triatchy has made an resurgence, and the lords of Pentos are offering Daemon and Laena a home, and their loyalties in exchange for the protection of their dragons, and while Laena wishes to leave Pentos and return to Driftmark to raise their children and return to the responsibilities they inevitably hold due to their ancestral houses. Laena wants her children to be raised Dragonriders amongst her people, not the Lady of a large home in Pentos that does not truly belong to her. Alternatively, Daemon is clearly enjoying the peace that Pentos is offering him, and whether that is because he wishes it for himself, his family, or simply feels the need to stay away from Rhaenyra is still unclear. 

In the books, it is said that Daemon, Rhaenyra, Laenor and Laena were all friends, especially Laena and Rhaenyra. It was said they would spend a great deal of time together, and that Rheanyra would visit Laena and Dameon on Driftmark often. With the show, it is implied that none of them have seen each other in all the time that has passed, and likely that Daemon and Laena fell off the face of the earth, with few people knowing their true whereabouts. This will effect how next episode is portrayed because Rhaenyra was grieving Laena as well when her and Daemon meet again. In the show, it looks like that might not be the case (unless they imply that Rhaenyra and Laena had seen each other in those 10 years and had been friends). 

The whole episode starts off by making it seem like Rhaenyra and Daemon are both doing okay within the lives they chose, but it’s clear by the end of the episode that this was a.) not the case and b.) certainly isn’t now. During their conversation on the roof, it is clear that Laena and Daemon marriage is not perfect. Far from it actually. And it seems like it’s slowly been unravelling over time. Like we saw in the previous episode, Laena was aware that she was not going to compare to Rhaenyra for Daemon, and had come to peace with that. I hope we see more insight into Daemon’s feelings about the marriage in the next episode, and that he is able to repair his relationship with his daughters. 

Speaking of which, this notion that the episode has a lot of false portrayals of happiness is mirrored in Daemon’s relationship with his daughters. The first time we see this family they all look so happy, we see Daemon teaching them how to speak High Verlyrian, kissing his wife’s belly and unborn child, and seemingly being a good father figure to them. But then Rhaena lets it slip that he ignores her, and you can tell something is going on with Daemon beyond his political desires to stay in Pentos. 

When Laena is giving birth to their third child my heart broke. This whole scene was explained very differently in the book. In Fire and Blood, Daemon and Laena are already back on Driftmark when she goes into labor. And she does give birth, to a stillborn son who died only a few hours later. After the birth, she is so severely weakened that she remained in bed for three days until she died. It was rumored she attempted to fly Vhagar one last time but collapsed before she could reach her, and that Daemon carried her back to bed. I don’t know how I feel about the change made on the show but with her earlier comment about dying a Dragonrider’s death, I get it. But choosing to make this character commits suicide rather than letting her pass away the way she had in the books seems like it was done for shock factor more than plot. 

They really went for a one two punch with Laena then Harwin leaving, and then the fire at Harrenhal. Honestly, justice for Harwin in more than one way. This dude was an amazing man, the scene with him and his father made me feel for him so deeply. Then the scene in the courtyard where he defends his two sons against Criston was another great scene where he did so much without saying hardly anything. You can tell that in an alternative world, he and Rhaenyra would be raising those boys together, teaching them how to be brave warriors and living a happy life. 

Lyonel Strong resigning as Kings Hand is SO BAD for everyone wow wow wow. Larys is quickly learning how to play the game and it’s clear he has no issue breaking and bending the rules to get himself in a better position. By arranging meetings with the Queen, he has his finger on the pulse of Kings Landing and can see where he might be of use in furthering the chaos. His allegiance is with the moment. When he arranges the murders of his father and brother, it is so that Alicent is in his debt. She did not directly ask for him to commit this crime, but he twists her words and implies that it was for her benefit so that Otto can be restored of hand of the king. As a retult, Larys has the ear of the Queen and is now the heir to Harrenhal in one move. 

Lastly, I love Emma’s portrayal of Rhaenyra, I couldn't take my eyes off of them, I found them to be wonderful. Olivia Cooke was great too, but her version of Alient definitely felt a lot different than Emma’s. I could recognize Milly’s portrayal in Emma's moreso than Olivia’s. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing but an observation. 

I also needed more Daemon in this episode, so I guess we will wait for the next one, which looks wildly good. 

#hotd #hotd spoilers #house of the dragon #hotdedit #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #gotedit #game of thrones #asoiaf #daemon x rhaenyra #daemyra #houseofthedragonedit #viserys targaryen #house of the dragon thoughts #hotd episode 6 #hotd 1x06 #house of the dragon episode 1x06 #emma d'arcy #Olivia Cooke #alicent hightower #harwin strong #Criston Cole

[thestormthatrises]

#Moshang pregnancy where it takes a village.

Now, of course! People have been getting pregnant and having babies for as long the world has been turning. It happens every day, everywhere, in a variety of ways.

But the universal truth is this: it's easier not to do it alone.

Airplane had briefly mentioned mpreg in PIDW as a little Easter egg, a gag for the fujoshis in his audience and to show that 'manly men' like LBH were so manly that they could get even other men pregnant.

(And a little for himself. For his self insert heart. For the little Fantasies he has about his favorite character)

He had never meant for it to be anything other than that. It was just a minor little detail. A glance and you'd miss it sentence. Just a book. Just a joke!

But goddamn it he wasn't laughing now.

He was pregnant.

Mu Qingfang was looking at him very sternly, clinically-- near judging him for it.

"Oops?" He said, trying to ease the tension that hung over them; break that heavy, judgemental look.

No luck.

"How long has shixiong been feeling these symptoms?"

Said symptoms were extreme fatigue, heavy nausea without vomiting, headaches and swollen, nigh tender, chest area.

"erm, about like, three to four months?"

The brush in MQF's hand snapped in half.

God... He knew it was a bad idea to come to the Healing Peak.

MQF didn't give a shit (None of his martial siblings ever did). He could still remember when he had broken his arm as a disciple and had come to Qian Cao for emergency aid. He could still remembered how callous everyone had been when resetting his bone. And then all but telling him to Go, rub dirt on it if it hurt and to grow up.

He had vowed to never come back. Nothing! Nothing less than dying would ever bring him back to this hellhole!

"Shixiong"

God, he shouldn't have broken his vow...

SQH couldn't bear the condescension. That little sigh of MQF's, how he talked to him like a child or a very dumb animal.

If it weren't for his kids threatening to riot, he would never have come.

"Well, if that's that, Shidi, I must get going!" He said, jumping to his feet, putting distance between himself and the Healing Peak Lord.

"What?"

"It's been lovely talking to you, Mu shidi. I'll keep in touch about your deliveries thru the kids and--"

"Wait!"

God damn it!

SQH put on his best, most subservient, costumer service smile and turned back to the other Peak Lord.

"Yes, Shidi?" He asked, slowly, deliberately, using every syllable as almost a sutra to abstain from his flight or fight response.

"You can't go, shixiong!" Wow. Where was that Coming from? "Your child... It is the ice demon's, Mobei Jun's, correct?"

SQH felt hackles at the back of his neck rise. There was deep protective urge bubbling at the pit of his stomach. What was Mu Qingfang doing, mentioning his king? What did he want with him?

And...

Was he doubting his king?

No.

For sure he was doubting SQH. Doubting that he was worthy of his king, that MBJ would ever feel attraction for someone like him...

Doubting their marriage. His loyalty to his king.

"...Yes." He answered through the teeth of his smile

God, he hated being here.

He hated being in any CQM Peak aside from his own.

He hated being any sort of brother to these people, to be made to be a family with people that didn't care for him. Who despised him. Belittled him.

Specially when he was ill.

Or, in this case, vulnerable.

"Human and demon pregnancies are dangerous, shixiong"

He wasn't himself right now. SQH knew this. He could brush off the pity, the condescension, the scorn. He had lived thru it two times already. He was fine with it.

But not right now.

And because of that, a very wary "so?" Came out. Unfiltered. Unguarded. Raw

MQF was taken aback. "So?" He frowned. "Shixiong, please you must take care of yourself"

That was weird.

MQF was usually less... Concerned than that.

SQH shook his head, trying to banish such a stupid thought.

"I'm fine, Shidi"

He was always just...'fine'.

Fever? Just fine. Broken leg? Just fine. Poisoned? Just fine. Stabbed, beaten and dumped? Just fine.

And MQF never argued about it before. Never pressed. Never cared.

Why in the hell was he pressing?

The QC Peak Lord seemed to be biting back Words. His hands jerking between reaching out and staying at MQF'S side

SQH placed a hand over his stomach. He didn't even know if he wanted to keep the kid (he hadn't even allowed himself to process that bit of information) but he was sure as hell not letting someone hurt one

#TBC #Moshang #Shang Qinghua #Mobei Jun #SVSSS #saving shit from my twitter