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magictehnique · 3 years

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One Wish

Jax Teller x Reader

Disclaimer: I do not own SOA or the song. Just the plot.

This little idea came to me the other day. I hope you guys like it!

As a matter of fact I was the one who said I love you first.

It was about eight years ago don’t act like you don’t know.

Y/n and Jax first laid eyes on each other in high school. Y/n was brand new to Charming and caught the blonde biker’s eyes walking through the halls in ripped jeans, combat boots, and a rock band t-shirt. Throughout high school, she became close to both Jax and Opie. Spent most of her time after school at TM. From day one her and Jax felt there was something other than just friendship between them. Hell, the club and school peers could see it. Many women tried to win over Jax, Tara Knowles included, but none of them could seem to catch his heart like y/n did.

At one of the infamous Friday night parties, the two friends escaped up to the roof, for some time away from the rowdy men and women. By this point, Jax and Opie dropped out of school to prospect for the club. The two of them sat for awhile, just enjoying each other’s company. Jax being the first to break the silence, “so, you thought about what you are going to do after you graduate?”

Y/n thought for a minute. “I don’t know Jax. I know my family wants me to go to college, but I don’t know what I even want to do. Your mom has offered me to continue working in the office and tending the bar. Couple of the guys said they would teach me mechanics.”

Jax smirked, “they love having you around. You may not have grown up in the club, but you understand this life as if you did. I know it’s your choice but I know I would love to have you around more.”

Y/n smirked back and met his baby blue eyes, “what’re you saying, Jax?”

“I’m sayin’ I love you too much to let you go Darlin’.“

If I had one wish, you would be my boo

Promise to love you. Trust me I’ll trust you.

Y/n and Jax were married five years after the night he confessed his love for her. They didn’t have the easiest of relationships. The club had gone through a lot of shit in those years and theirr relationship was tested numerous times. In the end, y/n and Jax always pulled through.

The wedding took place during one of the many lockdowns at the clubhouse. Y/n and Jax had been engaged for a few months. Both were sitting at the bar with Jax and Gemma, y/n looking around at all the family and friends gathered here. Gemma looked over at them and said, “so, have you guys set a date yet for the wedding?”

Jax was first to answer, “nah not yet. Been waiting for all the shit to die down. Not only have we had the Mayans starting pissing matches, the other charters have been going through shit.” Gemma nodded in agreement.

“What about now?” y/n said, breaking the silence. Both Gemma and Jax’s heads snapped to her.

“You mean like now? Here?” Jax asked.

Y/n shrugged her shoulders. “Why not? Our friends and family are all here. Chibs is ordained and could marry us. Nows as good as any. I don’t need some lavish wedding Jax. As long as I’m saying vows and kissing you at the end, I don’t care how it happens.”

Jax broke out into the biggest smile she had ever seen. He grabbed her face in his hands and gave her a passionate, and loving kiss. Gemma was beaming at the pair in front of her. She couldn’t have picked a better girl for her son than y/n.

Jax separated from y/n and whistled, getting everyone’s attention, “hey everyone! Y/n and I decided that instead of waiting, we’re going to get married right here, right now. We love all of you so much and want you to be apart of our big day. So Chibs, you mind marrying me to my best friend?”

Everyone starting clapping and cheering for the couple. Chibs walked over and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. “I would be honored brotha.”

The rest of the night was spent celebrating y/n and Jax’s marriage biker style.

If I had one wish, we would run away

Making love all day. Have us a baby.

Three years had passed since the wedding and y/n picked up more hours at the office while Gemma took a step back. Clay was getting close to stepping down as president and the two wanted to have more free time to enjoy their “retirement”. Jax’s demands and time with the club had started to increase. Y/n knew it would happen, but it didn’t stop her from missing her husband. She made the best out of the time they were able to spend together.

She was sitting at the desk in the office, rubbing her temples to ease the headache she woke up with. Gemma walked in the door, “hey baby how are you feelin’?” For the past couple of weeks y/n hadn’t been feeling well. She was always nauseated and tired. The past few days she spent her mornings hunched over the toilet seat throwing up.

“Awful. I haven’t been able to shake the nausea and the headache,” she replied leaning back in the chair.

Gemma looked at her for a second before replying, “when was the last time you had your period?”

Y/n’s head snapped up. “I don’t know, maybe a month ago? I think. I don’t actually rem... wait, you don’t think I might be pregnant do you?” Y/n replied.

“Only one way to find out,” Gemma reached into her purse and pulled out a couple pregnancy tests. “I got these the other day at the store. Wouldn’t hurt to do them.”

Y/n grabbed the tests and headed towards the bathroom. A long three minutes later she was staring at all three tests bearing the same result: positive.

Gemma let y/n take the rest of the day off and relax at home. She was happy Jax had been taking care of club business and hadn’t been at the shop that day. As soon as she got home, she was pacing back and forth, thinking about how she was going to tell him. Sure, they had talked about babies and how much they wanted kids. Any other time she would be ecstatic, but the club was going through shit and Jax already had enough on his plate. He had been getting home late at night and leaving before she woke up in the morning. She couldn’t think of the last time they shared a meal together.

The rumble of a bike pulling into their driveway pulled y/n out of her thoughts. She turned around right as Jax was opening the door. He looked at her with a smile that quickly turned to a look of concern when he saw her face. “Hey darlin’, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

Y/n took a deep breath before answering. “You know how I’ve been feeling a little under the weather lately? Well I found out why. I’m pregnant Jax.”

Jax stood in shock. She could see various emotions flashing through his eyes; shock, confusion, fear, and happiness. “Wait, really? You’re serious, like hundred percent sure?” He asked, walking to her and cupping her face with one of his hands.

“Yeah. I took three tests. They all came back positive.” Jax leaned down and gave her a hard kiss. He didn’t have to say anything else, the kiss conveyed everything.

When they finally broke apart, he crouched down and lifted up her shirt, placing a few soft kisses on her stomach. Y/n ran her hands through his hair, eyes tearing up at her husband’s actions.

He looked up at her and said, “you don’t know how happy you just made me.”

If I had one wish, I’ll make you my whole life.

Sitting on the picnic bench, Jax reflected on his life and how it’s turned out. He had no clue what he did to deserve the life he had. He looked across the lot where y/n was talking to his mom. She had their youngest child on her hip, the second oldest was playing with other kids in the play area, and his oldest was in the shop, learning how to work on cars with their uncles. Y/n was his rock in this life. She kept him grounded, always his support to lean on, always willing to help the club when she could. She never once tried to change him. Never once asked him to leave this life. She trusted him to turn the club around make it safer. Legitimate. And that’s what he did.

If he had one wish, to go back and redo his life, he wouldn’t. Y/n, the kids, and the club were his whole life. He already has everything he could have ever wished for.

#jax teller x reader #jax teller fanfiction #Jax Teller #charlie hunnam x reader #Charlie Hunnam

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queen-scribbles · 3 years

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Kaira

I figured Father’s Day would be a good day to let Tel unleashed his Dad Energy, so have the fic where he finally gets to meet Kaira. :D

---

Tel’s glance at the wall chrono showed the same exact time as the last three checks and he dropped onto the couch with a loud, disgruntled huff. His knee started bouncing the second he braced his feet against the low table and he let his head fall back to stare at the ceiling.

Elara’s face filled his view, upside down, as she leaned over. “Soon, love.”

“Soon isn’t soon enough,” Tel grumbled. He cracked his knuckles and his knee bounced faster.

“I know.” She kissed his forehead, a faint smile curing her lips when she pulled back. “This is about the state I thought you’d be in today,” she said softly, and kissed his nose.

“I see what you’re doing, Els,” Tel murmured, reaching up to rub her arm with one hand.

“Mm, do you?”

He smiled at the mischief in her voice. “You’re tryin’ to distract me by bein’ all... you.”

Elara laughed softly. “Only temporarily. So you don’t go stir-crazy.” She pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “Is it working?”

“Sort of.” His hand slid up to cup the back of her neck and he craned upward for a more serious kiss. “You know I love you, sweetheart, but I’m also really lookin’ forward to meeting her.”

Elara’s smile widened. “Understandable.” She kissed his forehead again, then circled the couch to sit next to him. “I’m glad you’re so looking forward to it, dearest. According to Aleksei, Kaira’s been bouncing off the walls and counting down days since we made arrangements.”

“Sounds about right,” Tel said with a chuckle. “She is my daughter, which means enthusiasm is in her blood. And she’s yours, which means orderliness is, as well.”

She laughed and rubbed his arm. “Only time will tell which she gravitates toward more.”

He was just opening his mouth to reply when his comm beeped, followed shortly by the fuzzy blue holo of Hylo grinning ear to ear. “Shuttle on approach, Commander. Thought you’d want to know.”

“You thought right,” Tel said, already pushing off the couch. “Thanks, we’ll be right there.” He closed the connection and offered Elara a hand up. “They’re early.”

She smiled. “You’re complaining?”

Tel grinned and started tugging her toward the door. “Hell, no.”

---

Tel, with Elara close behind him, made it down to the hanger bay before the shuttle even docked. It took everything in him to keep from bouncing like an impatient child as he watched the small craft ease into the hanger with a near-perfect landing. Elara interlaced her fingers with his and he held tight.

The shuttle’s small size meant it held no more than four or five passengers, so at least it wouldn’t be a long wait for the anticipated parties--

The door was barely open when a short, dark-haired figure came streaking down the ramp and darted across the tarmac. She skidded to a halt in front of Tel and surveyed him with eager curiosity. (An inspection that mattered more to him than any drill instructor or CO’s ever had.)

“You’re my dad?” she asked, shoving hair out of her eyes, back toward her slipping-loose ponytail.

Tel went to one knee, putting them almost eye-level(she was tall for her age). “That’s me-”

Kaira barely let him get the words out before she flung her arms around his neck in a ferociously tight hug driven by so much enthusiasm it almost knocked him over. Her complete lack of hesitation made his heart swell and he tried in vain to swallow the lump in his throat as he hugged her back.

“Mom’s told me all about you,” she said, pulling back just enough to grin at him, displaying the gaps from three lost baby teeth.

“There’s a scary thought,” Tel joked, voice rough, and shot Elara a smirk.

She rolled her eyes and lightly bopped the back of his head. “I promise I painted you in a flattering light, dearest. Hence her excitement.”

“Good point,” Tel relented, and Elara smiled.

“Now” --she turned to Kaira, arms held out-- “do I get one of those hugs as well, darling?”

“Oh. Yeah!” Kaira released her grip on Tel and pivoted to wrap an almost as enthusiastic hug around her mother’s waist. “Missed you, Mom.”

Tel pushed to his feet and turned to the other figure, who had followed Kaira down the ramp and been watching the meeting/reunion with a quiet smile. “Aleksei, good to see you.”

“You as well.” Aleksei grasped the hand Tel held out to shake, his smile turning wry as he nodded at their joined hands. “And with no barriers this time.”

Tel laughed as they released the handshake. “Yeah, Elara told me you managed to earn the brass’ trust.” The scarring Elara had mentioned was obvious as well; up the right side of Aleksei’s neck and climbing over his jaw to stop just shy of his cheekbone, a small divot in his eyebrow, permanently red and rough skin on the back of his hand.

Aleksei chuckled. “Yes, though I do wish it had taken slightly less than getting myself blown up to do so.”

Tel snorted. “Word of warning; they only give you medals for the first couple times you do that. Then it’s more likely they’ll grouse about your medical expenses than commend your braver-- Ow!” He laughed and rubbed his arm where Elara had whacked him.

“Don’t be encouraging my brother to follow in your footsteps, dearest,” she admonished, fighting a smile. “Worrying about one of you is quite enough.”

“I was warning him not to, Els,” Tel protested.

“And he made a very compelling case,” Aleksei chipped in.

“Thank you.” Tel gave his arm another exaggerated rub. “Now, can I spend some more time with Kaira without being assaulted, please?”

“Oh, very well,” Elara said with feigned reluctance, letting her arm slip from Kaira’s shoulders. “I’m certain Aleksei and I will find something to discuss. You two have fun, and don’t cause trouble.”

“I wasn’t gonna,” Kaira protested, looking offended at the warning.

“I was talking to your father,” Elara said, smiling as she shot Tel a meaningful look.

“Oh, fine,” he sighed, grinning. “I’ll have to come up with a different father-daughter bonding activity.”

Elara rolled her eyes and laughed, then moved to talk to her brother.

“Do you like causin’ trouble?” Kaira asked as they headed through the base toward the elevator.

“Yeah,” Tel admitted with a laugh, examining the narrow braid around her ponytail. It currently appeared to be the only thing holding it in place. “But it has to be the right kind of trouble, in the right place, to be the most fun. We’ll manage some while you’re here, but for now let’s listen to Mom, huh?”

“Okay.” Kaira nodded, furthering the precarious state of her ponytail. “Mom’s smart.”

“Very,” Tel agreed, grinning.

“Can you tell me stories about her?” Kaira asked as they rode the elevator up to the base entrance. “Mom’s told me a lot about you, but not really about her.”

Of course not, that would be bragging, he thought glibly. “Sure thing, kiddo. One condition: for every story about your mom being awesome, I wanna learn somethin’ about you back. It can be somethin’ little,” he clarified when her nose scrunched. “Like your favorite color or ice cream flavor, or stuff you like to do with your best friend, that kinda thing. Deal?”

“Deal,” Kaira said with a grin wide enough to show off her missing teeth again as they shook on it.

---

They made their way to one of the wide expanses of field and forest that surrounded the base, and spent the next hour or two talking while they looked at the clouds, caught bugs, and (occasionally) climbed things.

Tel told Kaira as many stories about Elara as he could recall(a lot) and was gratified to learn she found her mother every bit as amazing as he did. (”Even when she makes you eat your vegetables?” “I like vegetables. ‘Cept peas. Peas are gross.” “K, I don’t think there’s a kid in the galaxy who likes peas right off the bat.”)

He learned in return that Kaira’s favorite color was purple--and red, she liked them both--she liked Corellian puff-pastries so much she’d once eaten a whole batch and given herself a tummy-ache, her favorite thing was to play spaceships with her friend Elodie, she thought explosions were cool, and she really, really wanted a pet nexu even though Mom said they were too dangerous.

“Well, I dunno bout a nexu, ‘cause I think your mom has a point there,” Tel said with a laugh, swishing a hand through the tall grass around them, “but we can see about a pet.”

Kaira’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

He nodded. “Really.” If they had a bit longer til her birthday, he might’ve set that as the deadline, but Elara would--rightly--strangle him for promising something with only three days to discuss it. “I’ll have to talk to your mom, and it’ll sort of depend whether it lives here or on Coruscant with you...”

Her shoulders noticeably drooped. “Okay.”

Even with his limited childcare experience, Tel knew dejection when he saw it. And he had a pretty good guess as to the cause. “What?”

Kaira shrugged, staring at the ground as she yanked up a clump of grass and let the breeze carry it out of her hand. “Nothin’.”

“Kaira.”

She looked up at him with huge, sad brown eyes he didn’t think he’d have the heart to refuse if she asked him for anything. “I just... I thought I was gonna live here now. With you an’ Mom. “

“Ah.” Tel wrapped an arm around her shoulders to pull her into a hug. “Sweetheart, I would love nothing more than to have you and your mom here every day. But that’s another thing we have to talk about, ‘cause this is a military base. So if someone gets p- mad at me, or the Alliance, they might attack. And I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Coruscant got hurt,” she muttered, dragging her boot heel through the dirt in a clumsy line. “A whole bunch.”

Tel laughed and rubbed her arm. “That is a very good point, sweetheart. Like I said, we’ll talk about it, okay?”

“...Okay.” She snuggled closer. “But I still wanna live with you. Even if Uncle Lesky’s really cool.”

“Noted,” Tel smiled and ruffled her hair. The ponytail had fallen out five minutes into their adventure and he hadn’t bothered to help her redo it.

They sat for a moment in silence, then Kaira pulled away and sat back on her knees. “Dad?”

That damn lump was back(and would be, he suspected, every time she called him that for the foreseeable future). “Yeah, K?”

She cocked her head, frowning slightly as she studied his face. “What happ’ned to your eye?”

He snorted a laugh and reached up to tap the cybernetic patch. “Oh, I got that a long time ago, sweetheart. Back when I first became a soldier, before I even met your mom-”

“‘Cause she’d’a fixed it?”

Tel laughed even louder and hugged her again. He wondered if Elara’s ears were burning wherever she and Aleksei were. Best damn medic in the galaxy. “I’ll bet she could’ve. Anyway, me and my squad were scouting, and we stumbled on a group of bad guys we didn’t think would be there. I put myself between my squad and the incoming fire, part of that incoming fire was a rocket, and ” --he gestured at the eyepatch, the implant that curved around it, and the general scarring on the left side of his face. (He didn’t mention all the shrapnel they’d had to pull from his chest, stomach, arm; she was six and the kolto had healed all that with nary a scar.)

“Wow.” Kaira leaned closer and ran her fingers over the cybernetics that curved around his eye socket. “Does it still hurt?”

“No. Hasn’t for a long time,” he assured her, then grinned. “Now it just looks cool. Though it does mean I can’t really wink.”

She giggled and sat back next to him. “But winking’s fun.”

“That it is. You’ll just hafta do it for me.”

Another giggle. “Okay.” She wiggled closer, resting her head on his shoulder as they looked out over Odessen’s forests. “’M glad I finally got to meet you, Dad.”

His grin widened until his face hurt, even as emotion prickled in his good eye. “Me, too, sweetheart. You’re pretty awesome.”

Kaira tipped her head back to smile at him. “So’re you.”

Those two words were worth more than every commendation he’d ever won combined. “Thanks, K. “ He kissed her forehead, tucked wayward black hair behind her ears. “Think we should head back? Find Mom and Uncle Aleksei?”

“Yeah, prob’ly a good idea,” Kaira agreed, though she sounded more than a tad reluctant.

“We can keep hanging out,” Tel promised. “We’ll just be addin’ them to the fun.”

She smiled brightly and jumped to her feet. “Okay.”

Tel matched the smile, pleased both that he’d guessed what bothered her about the suggestion and that she wanted to spend more time with him. “Alright, let’s go.”

They’d only been walking a few minutes when Kaira gave a dramatic groan. “It’s so farrrrr.”

“Yeah, we did cover a lot of ground.” Tel had not been paying attention to the distance they’d ranged and did have to admit, for a six year old, it would be a long trek back.”Want a lift?”

Her face screwed into a pout. “M notta baby, Dad.”

“Not what I meant,” he laughed, and crouched down on one knee. “Piggyback?”

The pout disappeared into an eye-crinkling grin. “YES!” Kaira bellowed as she scrambled to wrap her arms around his neck and legs around his waist. She was lighter than she looked with her height, but still plenty strong enough to strangle him.

“Easy, kiddo,” Tel laughed, tugging her wrist so she’d loosen her grip. “I’ll hold you up, don’t be tryin’ to kill me.”

“Sorry.” Kaira shifted to instead hold fistfuls of his shirt. “Go, go, go!”

They were both laughing as they set out for the Alliance base, where Elara greeted them each with a kiss on the cheek before helping Kaira down so they could go get lunch.

As a family.

#queens fic #telcontar airen #elara dorne #telara #kaira airen #aleksei dorne #*aggressively includes the dorne sibling content bioware won't give me*

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ficsilike-reblogged · 4 years

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Blood In the Rivers: V

A/N: I know I said this would be out “soon” after the last chapter but I realized I hated everything I had written beforehand and had to redo everything. Thank you to everyone who has left likes, comments, and reblogged this little story of mine. You all deserve pretty things. Also, I know I said that this story would be about 8 chapters, but now it is looking like 10. I hate myself.

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand x F!Reader (Tully)

Rating: M for Attempted Sexual Assault and Murder -- please do not read if this upsets you

Word Count: 7.1k (again, I have no chill)

Read Chapters I-IV here! Or on Ao3!

Chapter Five: Pretty Words

A knock at her door had Y/N groaning. Every bit of her body felt heavy and she wanted nothing more than to pull the blankets up over her head and to forget that she was a person for another handful of hours. Sleep had evaded her for most of the night, leaving her tossing and turning as she mulled thoughts over in her head until she was sure she was losing her grip on reality. But Y/N’s buzzing mind, right before she finally slipped into a dreamless sleep, had come to the conclusion whatever happened with Oberyn and Ellaria had been beautiful and short and a game. A game she didn’t know she was playing. The Dornish Prince saw an opportunity to get under the Lannisters’ skin and took it. She could not blame him, but that did not mean it eased the ache of her heart. She had almost been in love, she was sure. Almost. And maybe, in time, she would be able to look back at those handful of days with a fond smile and delude herself into thinking she had been loved once.

The knock came again, louder and more insistent.

“Daisy?” The name was slurred on her tongue. It felt like her eyes had sealed themselves shut and she wiped a hand over her face as she sat up, knocking her mussed pillows to the floor. It was still dark in her room, the barest hints of sunlight had started to turn the dark sky into a hazy type of cerulean blue. Her still-sleeping mind took a moment to realize there was a hushed argument happening outside her door. Y/N slid off her bed on uneasy legs and pulled her dressing gown from her vanity before clumsily tying it about her waist. She slipped over to the door and moved the chair away before opening it.

Daisy and Daemon were standing steadfastly in front of her door, shielding it from two Lannister knights. The group turned as they heard the door open.

“Lady Tully. You are requested to appear before the King in the throne room at once-”

“She is indecent!” Daisy hissed. “You must give her time to ready herself.”

“Lady Tully-”

“She will be ready momentarily, Ser. Be patient.” Daisy quickly stepped into the room, pushing Y/N backward, before slamming the door shut. Anger colored her face a vibrant red and she marched up to one of the chests and yanked the top open and rifled through Y/N’s fine dresses until she pulled a dark blue one out. All the while, she was grumbling to herself about “stupid lions” and Y/N would have found it hilarious if she could blink without something aching. “We must get you dressed, my lady. I’m sure they’ll skewer Ser Daemon and knock down the door if we are not swift.”

She was soon dressed and once again looked like a respectable, high-born lady. “What do you suppose this is about?” Y/N asked as she slipped into her heeled boots. There was something dreadful twisting her stomach, like a premonition of some terrible deed not yet carried out.

Daisy shook her head as she started to lace them. “I do not know. But nothing good comes at this hour.” She stood as she finished and grasped Y/N’s hands. “But I shall stand behind you, whatever it is.”

Y/N smiled and reciprocated the squeeze before dropping their hold and straightening her shoulders. “Then let us go. To our doom or otherwise.”

Daisy nodded and opened the door. Daemon had continued to stand sentry between the chamber door and the Lannister guards and stepped forward only as the pair of women appeared behind him. “I shall lead them, Sers,” he bit out. The leather of his gloves creaked as his hold on the hilt of his sword tightened.

The Lannister men looked at each other and nodded tersely before turning and walking away toward the throne room. Y/N’s fingers curled around Daemon’s shoulder and squeezed in thanks before he led them out. The small group was quiet as they walked—quiet enough to hear the din of an assembled crowd as they neared the throne room.

“Be strong, my lady,” Daemon and Daisy whispered.

The doors opened and the murmurs grew in volume. Spectators thinly lined the walls as Tommen sat on the Iron Throne. Margaery was perched next to him on an ornate chair and their hands were clasped over the sharp spikes of the melted swords on the arm rest of the throne. Cersei and Tywin were seated on the raised dais, too. Each on their own chairs, emblazoned with roaring lions and red silk.

While Daemon and Daisy were forced to leave her side, Y/N continued down the center of the grand hall. She felt every single pair of eyes follow her steps. Sweat slicked her palms as she neared the dais but she refused to show any fear or sadness. She had cried enough for two lifetimes. If this was to be her fate, she would not whimper. Y/N curtseyed as she reached the edge of the dais and looked up at Tommen. “Your Grace. How may I be of service?” The doors to the Hall shut and it seemed to echo for ages.

Tommen, the sweet boy-king, looked like he was trying to fight a smile as he looked at her. “Lady Tully. I apologize for waking you at this hour. But I have come to learn some troubling news.”

“It seems your father has retaken Riverrun,” Tywin cut in. The Hand of the King pin near glistened in the torchlight over his heart. The most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms was staring at her.

“Is that so?” She hummed, ignoring her leaping heart. “I’m sure he won’t hold it for long.”

Tywin sat forward in his seat and stared at her. “Robb Stark is said to be within the castle’s walls.”

Something jubilant and dreadful all at once gripped her heart and whispers quickly slid through the crowd like a snake. “I was told Robb died at the Twins.”

“So was I.” The older man did not move his eyes from her face. “The time has come, Lady Tully, for you to show your true allegiance. You must marry—an ally to the Crown. Before you are to take your rightful place as the Lady of Riverrun, Protector of the Trident.”

The whispers grew, all the crowd’s words slithering together in a hiss in her ears. Her mouth went dry as if it had been stuffed with cloth—and now she could not stop her hands from shaking. When she would be married to Tywin, she would only be the Lady of Riverrun in name. She was sure she would never see its beautiful, red brick with creeping ivy. Never hear the roar of the rivers from her chambers. She would have her home—just out of reach. “My loyalty has never been in question before, my lord. But I…” she swallowed the hard lump in her throat. Tyrion and Jaime were standing off to the side of the throne, both wearing looks of pity and concern. “But I welcome any matches His Grace would find suitable.” This would be it, it seemed. She would be forced to accept Tywin’s formal proposal in this public setting and there would be no salvation this time. No careful words to avoid an answer. No being called away by a Tyrell in the last second.

“I have a suitable match,” Cersei said, pride oozing from every syllable.

Tommen nodded at his mother despite Margaery frowning. “I shall hear it.”

Cersei opened her smirking mouth and-

The door to the throne room burst open and a flood of orange and red and yellow quickly ran in, led by a panting Daemon-he must have dashed away right after delivering her to the Hall. Her heart seemed to want to crack through her chest when she spotted in Oberyn at the center of the Dornish crowd. He was dressed in his finery, a golden-red robe over a white tunic that sparkled with silver thread in the light. His sword was sheathed and slung at his waist with shining black leather. He looked every part the rogue prince of her childhood fairytales. He walked forward as the rest of his retinue bled into the crowd and she quickly looked forward once again.

“Prince Oberyn, good morning,” Tommen said, confusion coloring his tone.

“Good morning, Your Grace,” Oberyn greeted, barely dipping his head in a bow. “It seems I have lost my invitation to the festivities.”

Both Tywin and Cersei straightened in their seats. It was Cersei who spoke first. “Hardly festivities, Prince Oberyn. Lady Tully was answering for her family’s crimes. If she is to truly be an ally-”

“She must take a suitable husband?” Oberyn finished with a smirk. “Such a strange way to show loyalty.”

“Your family would know that the best way to make allies is through marriage,” Tywin said.

Oberyn chuckled and slid closer. She could almost feel his familiar heat at her back but Y/N did not turn to face him. “Yes. I know my family’s storied history. We are proud. There is nothing in our past we are ashamed of. No deeds we leave to whispers.” Another step closer. “No secret rape and murders of women and children. No, in Dorne that is considered distasteful.”

Y/N knew exactly to what he was referring. And only Oberyn would be so bold as to accuse the Lannisters of ordering the murder of Elia and her children in front of such an audience. Her eyes flickered to Ser Gregor standing in the shadows. He smirked as if proud to be reminded of his own brutality.

“What is your point?” Tywin asked, attempting to sound bored—but the edge of his tone betrayed him.

Y/N sucked in a steadying breath as she felt Oberyn’s fingers trail across her back as he stepped forward to look directly at Tywin and she shivered, immediately hating herself for how her body betrayed her. He reached into his robes and there was a sudden clatter of armor—Kingsguard and Westerland knights alike both readied for a fight against the famed Red Viper of Dorne. Oberyn chuckled again and pulled out a single slip of parchment. “You see, Your Grace, in Dorne betrothals are festivities. Not interrogations. Certainly not made by the end of a sword. And Lady Tully is already claimed.”

Y/N felt her face crumple into a frown. She had never been promised to anyone. Hoster had never asked her to meet with any lords. Her father had never written her with word of an arrangement-

Cersei waved her hand and a Kingsguard snatched the parchment from him with a sneer and quickly handed it over to the queen regent. She unfurled it with a flourish and Y/N watched the color quickly drain from her face. “This is ridiculous.”

“What is it?” Tommen asked, reaching for the letter. He took it from his mother’s hands and read it. His sweet face furrowed for a moment before he let Margaery read it, too.

Was everyone to read it before her? But the small smile Margaery let play on her lips was a small comfort. At least, Y/N prayed it was.

Tywin was then handed the parchment and his thin lips pulled tight against his teeth. “You are her betrothed, Prince Oberyn?”

It felt like she’d been hit in the chest with a war hammer. Seven hells! What was happening?

“I am. What you have in your hands is an agreement between Prince Doran and Lord Brynden Tully.”

“Brynden Tully is a traitor to the Crown-”

“But, surely, my brother is not. He is currently housing Princess Myrcella. You would not leave your only daughter in the hands of a traitor.”

Cersei’s hands curled over the arms of her chair and her nails bit into the wood. “I would not.”

“Obviously, this was arranged prior to Lord Brynden’s turn. But my brother’s word holds true. Y/N is mine.”

“Did you know of this?” Tywin asked, turning to pin Y/N with his stare.

“N-no, my lord. I have never heard of this before this morning.” How simple she must look, claiming to not know she was betrothed. Was any of what Oberyn had said true? Had Doran and her father truly come to this arrangement prior to the War of the Five Kings? Or was this another one of his games?

“Curious, is it not, that you’ve just produced this agreement? Why have you not come forward sooner?” Tywin asked Oberyn, eyes not leaving Y/N’s face.

Oberyn smiled as if he wasn’t aware of the anger he was conjuring in the old lion. “I wanted to woo my wife before letting her know we were to be married.”

“Romantic,” Margaery cooed.

“I would have wooed you,” Tommen said to his queen, cheeks pink.

“I know, my love,” Margaery replied. “But now you do not have to.”

Cersei scoffed at the new queen’s breathy tone before she, too, focused on Y/N. “What good would this marriage bring?” Cersei asked. “What could possibly be gained?”

“Happiness,” Oberyn answered easily. “My family has known tragedy and my brother and Lord Brynden knew that.”

Y/N turned to look at him. He smiled so easily at her that her chest ached. He was so handsome—even when she knew him to be lying.

“You said it yourself. Marriage helps create alliances. Solidify them. Lady Tully’s hand in marriage was a hope of keeping Dorne, my family, from supporting the dragons or leaving the Seven Kingdoms entirely.”

Hurried whispers ripped through the congregated mass at the sound of Oberyn’s almost-threats.

“And this girl,” Tywin spat, “would keep Dorne appeased?” His cold eyes raked over her. “More than your vengeance?”

Oberyn’s smile widened. “Why should I not have both?”

Tommen, surprising almost everyone present, turned to Y/N before either man could continue their verbal volley. “Lady Tully, what say you?”

Y/N tried to steel herself and focus on the young king. His gentle face was so soft and kind and so ready for her true answer, it steadied her thundering heart. Could she truly see a way out from under Tywin Lannister’s gaze and intentions? But what of Oberyn? His intentions were not clear. “Your Grace, I live to better the Realm. If my marriage to Prince Oberyn may help bring peace, I happily accept this arrangement.”

“You realize, Lady Tully,” Cersei nearly hissed her name, “that if you become a Princess of Dorne, you cannot be the Lady of Riverrun. You would be forfeiting your home.”

And that actually struck a chord within her. Riverrun was her home. But the Lannisters had dangled it in front of her like a carrot on a stick and had promised it would be hers—but then turned and twisted, saying she’d be Lady of Casterly Rock, only regaining her home if she produced a son. Two sons.

Her father had found a home in the Vale, hundreds of leagues away from the red brick of Riverrun. And she was Brynden Tully’s daughter. She would not beggar herself for a life she did not want to appease someone. He did not settle for the Redwyne woman. She would not settle for Casterly Rock.

“I understand,” Y/N said, her shoulders back. “Let the Freys have it.” The words rung out in the hall. The decision was made. For all the Realms to hear.

Tommen nodded and glanced at Margaery who brought their joined hands to her mouth to press a kiss to his knuckles. He took the parchment back from his grandfather and handed it over to Jaime and it was quickly placed back in Oberyn’s hands and tucked away again. “Very well. Lady Tully, Prince Oberyn, I see no reason as to stand in your way. May the Seven bless your union.”

There was a sudden cheer from the back of the Hall and Y/N turned to see the Dornish clapping and hollering for their Prince. Oberyn turned to her and held out a hand. His smile was so large and happy that she could not stop her own, even if it didn’t feel right. She placed her hand in his and he dragged her close before holding their clasped hands into the air. The happy cheers only grew louder. Y/N glanced to the side to see Olenna Tyrell looking at her, a finger over her smiling lips. She nodded and then clapped, too, and the assorted Tyrell retinue at her back joined in.

The cheers echoed in the hall and in her chest, reverberating against her beating heart. And she wanted to cheer with them, to scream to the heavens in thanks that she would not be chained to Tywin Lannister. But, as Y/N looked at Oberyn and his proud smile, she was not entirely sure she had not traded one life of shackles for another. And she knew she would be shackled. No matter how freeing life in Dorne may be, she would be shackled with her feelings for him. Shackled to feel something that was not reciprocated.

Their hands eventually lowered and he pulled her closer and led her out of the hall. People congratulated him as they walked by and the morning sun soon started to warm her skin as they stepped outside. He raised their joined hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss against her fingers as they descended the steps of the Keep. “My bride.”

“Yes,” she answered, “your bride.”

His grip suddenly tightened on her hand and he pulled her to a stop with a frown. “My Tully?”

Y/N glanced at him only for a moment, unable to look into his dark eyes for more than that. “Yes, My Prince?”

He let out a short breath through his nose and once again pulled her along, down the rest of the steps and then into a small, shadowed corner of the Keep’s walls. “What ails you?” He asked, voice soft.

And maybe it was the heat of the moment, or the high of being free from the Lannisters, or the emotional exhaustion she’d been feeling for the past week, but it bubbled over as she pulled her hand from his and quickly crossed her arms over her chest. “You have left me alone for two weeks. No word as to why. I thought you’d finished with me. Had your pleasures and made a fool of me with your pretty words and then left me to the lions.” She took care to keep her voice low so as to not let any passersby hear. “And now I do not truly know if you are doing this in some way to steal what Tywin Lannister thought was his property or a pittance.” Her chin wobbled—strange, she thought she had drained herself of tears.

Oberyn stepped back as if she’d pushed him. “That is what you think of me? That I have used you for gain against Tywin Lannister?”

“You spoke so sweetly and then refused to meet my eye. I felt like an idiot to not have seen it. How else am I to perceive this?”

Oberyn stepped near again and raised his hands as if to grasp her face but she recoiled and his hands dropped to his sides and curled into fists. “I have always been clear in my intentions since the beginning, My Tully.” Slowly, ever so slowly, he raised his hands again and gently took her face into his grasp. His dark eyes bored into hers with such intensity that she shivered, thinking they could see her soul. “I have always wanted you. I will want you until this world goes grey and the waters rise to wipe the earth clean.”

“But you-”

“I never meant to cause you heartache, My Tully. There are plots at work that I could not trouble you with—I would not put you in danger.” His smile was small and sad but he did not pull away from her. “I feared they would somehow break you and spoil everything.”

Y/N felt her face twisting in anger before she could stop it. She was tired, confused, and angry. Insulted. She pushed his hands away and once again folded her arms across her chest, ignoring how her sleeves brushed against his robes, how she could feel the heat of his skin. “Prince Oberyn, it was me who planned to save Sansa. It was me who knew to send her to Dorne. It was me who knew how to lie and plot and twist words to survive in this wretched city. And now you think to tell me that I cannot be told of your plan? If you do not trust me, simply say so. I can learn to live with that. But, I beg you, do not think of me as something easily broken.” The words sounded like a lie on her tongue. He had broken a little bit of her when he had left her in the dark. Whatever plan he had made, plot he had conjured, he hadn’t deemed her worthy of knowing. And that was what hurt the most. She sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. “I shall be our wife. I will do my duties as a wife—but I will not force you to-to try to love me but I ask that you, at least, respect me enough-”

Oberyn grasped her arms and tugged her close. Berry-sweetened breath slid across her skin and hazed her mind. “No one can force me to do anything. If I did not want you as my wife, I simply would have smuggled you out of King’s Landing at nightfall and let you be, far away from the Lannisters who would use you for your name and what is between your legs. But I want you as my wife for my own reasons; your soft heart and fierce devotion to those you deem worthy of your affection. And I will have you.”

Y/N found herself twisting handfuls of his robe, not knowing when she had reached out, her fingers betraying her in the need to touch him.

“The gods could not take you from me.” He leaned ever closer. “But I shall win your heart again.” Oberyn said it so fiercely that she was almost scared. He hadn’t shouted. Hadn’t yelled. His voice was a calm, intense whisper that she felt in her bones. But her heartache and anger warred with her want of him and kept her quiet as he leaned into her and pressed a kiss to her throat, his facial hair scratching at her skin. Her traitorous heart leapt and sped its beat as he sighed against her throat. “You shall be my equal in every way. A Princess of Dorne.”

And she liked the sound of that. She did. But her heart still ached and burned and raged. Her hands that had found purchase in his robes gently pushed him back. “More pretty words.” Y/N curtseyed and ignored how his hands curled into fists again and walked around him and back into the Keep.

“My lady, Ellaria is here,” Daisy said as Y/N continued to collect her small trinkets from her vanity and place them into one of the open chests. The rest of her clothing and valuables were already folded and stacked, ready to be taken to the Dornish caravan in the next morning. The only items left unpacked were a dress that she would wear tomorrow and one of her smaller blades which she’d kept under her pillow, unwilling to pack it all away just yet. It was small, the sharp edge no larger than her palm, and the handle was inlaid with black and red gems and topped with a small silver trout. It had been a gift from her father for her ten-and-five nameday. (A silly gift that had Hoster scrunching his face in anger before he gave her a dress from the finest seamstress in the Riverlands.)

Today would be her last full day in King’s Landing before she left for Sunspear with the rest of the Dornish retinue at first light.

Y/N sighed and nodded. “Let her in.” She placed her last bottle of ink on a roll of leather before folding it and placing it beside her rolls of parchment and shutting the lid of the small chest. The remaining gold dragons inside jostled.

Daisy nodded and pulled the door open and Ellaria stepped in. Her daffodil-colored dress dipped so low in the front it left her belly button exposed to the air and her dark hair was twisted back with a golden pin shaped like a spear. A scarf of orange gossamer stitched with golden suns was draped over her shoulders. Y/N hated how her heart leapt when she looked at her. Still so lovely. Perhaps this would be easier if she had been hideous. But no, Y/N knew she had come to revel in Ellaria’s words and gentle heart—not just her beautiful face and body.

Daisy busied herself with continuing to pack away Y/N’s things as Ellaria closed the distance between them. She wordlessly reached out to Y/N and they sat on the edge of her featherbed. “You have a quiet sort of anger in your heart, My Tully.”

Y/N didn’t say anything but did not pull her hands from Ellaria’s hold.

“Oberyn only meant to shield you from-”

“He shouldn’t need to shield me from anything.” Y/N sighed. Her anger had settled into her bones. Ever present, but not on the surface. “And you knew, too. Of course you knew. The Prince trusts you implicitly.”

“There are greater things at work here, My Tully.”

“And I am just a pawn, I understand that. I do. But I would like to know what game I am playing.”

Ellaria chuckled. “You are going to make a fine Princess of Dorne.” She released her hands before trailing a finger down her neck and delighting in the shiver it coaxed out. “We will not apologize for trying to protect you. But we will do all can to have your heart in our grasp, again, just as you have ours.” Ellaria’s fingers slid down to her chest, pressing over her heart and smiling as she felt it beat. Then, she reached up to hook her finger around Y/N’s chin and turned her head and let her breath slide across her skin before she slowly, carefully, continued forward and pressed a kiss to Y/N’s lips. It was chaste and soft and still had Y/N’s poor heart leaping. And with the way Ellaria smiled against her mouth, she had felt it, too.

“That’s not fair,” Y/N mumbled. “You can’t kiss me like that.”

Ellaria pressed another kiss to Y/N’s cheek with a growing smile. “I don’t fight fair,” she whispered against her skin, uncaring of Daisy still going about her duties on the other side of the room. “I will do whatever is necessary to see you smile again.” She then stole yet another kiss against her cheek before she stood. She made her way to the door but stopped and turned back to look at Y/N as she sat on the bed, unmoving. “I will not rend any more tears from you, My Tully.” Her smile was soft and Y/N had to look away in fear she’d lose her resolve.

She wanted to forgive them. Let them gather her close and bask in their attentions again. But they’d hurt her, distrusted her—and she was still not completely sure that this was not a game for them.

The door clicked closed as Ellaria let herself out and Daisy, who had been folding the same dress over and over again in an attempt to look busy, quickly turned to her lady. “She’s quite a confusing one, isn’t she?”

Y/N sighed and waved Daisy over. Her handmaiden took her seat and Y/N basically collapsed into her hold. There were no tears. Not anymore. Just a hollow kind of ache that she could feel all the way down to her toes. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

Daisy hummed her assent. “I’ve put all my pretty things in a chest and Ser Daemon took it down for me this morning.”

Y/N chuckled. “Ah yes, Ser Daemon. Your dashing knight.” But it was still happy news that Daisy had jumped at the invitation to come to Dorne. Not that Y/N would ever leave her alone in King’s Landing.

“He isn’t my dashing anything, My Lady.” But Y/N could basically hear the blush and smile in her voice. “He is simply…”

“Simply,” Y/N played along, “who makes you smile? Warms your bed?”

“My lady!”

Y/N turned and looked up at Daisy with a small smile. “He makes you happy. It is not a sin to admit that. Happiness is…precious. Revel in it. Your heart has had its fill of grief.”

“You’re allowed to be happy, too, my lady.” Daisy started to comfortingly rub at her shoulder. “Do not deprive yourself of it.”

Y/N sighed but said nothing, head turning so she could look at the single rose that had arrived this morning, delivered by smiling Daemon. A poem had had been attached to it, just a handful of lines in smudged ink. It was beautiful, she supposed. Filled with words comparing her skin to petals.

More pretty words.

“I think you might be the only friend I have in the world, Daisy.”

“And I will be here beside you until you tire of me.”

“I could never tire of you.”

The pair sat there for a few stretched moments. It was the calmest Y/N had felt in weeks. A new chapter in her life was dawning. Dorne waited. It was not the story she had wanted or expected. But it was the one the gods deemed necessary. She would see Sansa again—that was a silver lining. And then, after she had her new title of Princess of Dorne, perhaps she could lead some sort of inquest into finding Arya. She could keep her mind busy and heart focused on family.

Maybe, if the gods willed it, she would take Cersei’s advice to heart. She would only love her children.

Would they have her hair? Oberyn’s dark eyes? His wit? Her inability to know when she’s been beaten? In a perfect world, her children would know nothing of her conflict or heartbreak. They would only know love.

A knock at her chamber door broke her reverie and Daisy squeezed her shoulder before answering it. Ella, the Tyrell girl, was on the other side and flanked by two handmaidens. “Queen Margaery has requested that you sup with her and Lady Olenna before you leave for Sunspear, Lady Tully. If you are agreeable.” Ella smiled.

Y/N rose and righted her skirts before nodding. “I’d be happy to.” She turned to Daisy. “Take the rest of the night to ready yourself for tomorrow. I’m sure I will need you every step of the way.”

Daisy nodded and excused herself, slipping by Daemon at the door with a smile that had the Tyrell handmaidens tittering.

“Please,” Y/N said to Ella, “lead the way.”

Margaery and Olenna were waiting at a large table in the main room, filled with berries and roasted carrots, wine, chicken smothered in gravy, and lemon cakes piled so high she thought they might collapse if she breathed near them. The meal shared was pleasant and, for once, not filled with plots or schemes or double meanings. Simply food shared between friends, if that is what they could be called. Eventually, they finished and Margaery drew Y/N into a hug. “You have been very good to my family, Lady Tully. I will not forget it.”

Y/N smiled, knowing that was a powerful promise. “Yes, well, I am always at your disposal, Your Grace.” She curtseyed and then turned to Olenna. “You as well, Lady Olenna. I wish you safe and swift travels back to Highgarden.”

Olenna stepped to her side and gently touched Y/N’s face. “You are going to be just fine, Little Fish. I promise you.”

Eventually, Ella and another handmaiden led Y/N back to her chambers and she bid them goodnight. It was getting late. She poked her head out of the door to look at her guards—Daemon and his usual comrade had been switched with another pair she did not recognize for the night. (There was a sneaking suspicion that Daemon kept volunteering to be Y/N’s guard to be nearer to Daisy as his was the only face she recognized.) “Sers, may I send for something for you to drink? Eat? I apologize that you have the final guard before the return to Dorne.”

Both of them shook their heads. “It is an honor to protect you, Lady Tully.”

Y/N sighed but pressed a smile to her face and thanked them both before closing the door and readying herself for bed. Her gut churned and she knew it wasn’t from the food. Before long travels, her nerves were always tightly wound. Ever since she was a little girl and was told she was being sent from the Vale to Riverrun, it felt like she swallowed a mouthful of pebbles, and the feeling returned every time she knew she would be on the road for longer than a handful of hours. The fact that she was to be married when this trip was completed was surely adding to her jumbled mess of emotions. She sat at her small vanity and dipped a cloth into the basin of water and dragged it across her cheeks and neck, removing the dust of the day.

The sound of scraping metal echoed in the hall.

Y/N stood and felt her heart leap into her throat. That terrible sound. She knew it too well.

She turned and slipped her hand under her pillow to curl around the small dagger. She crept toward the door and pressed her ear to the wood. The metal sound came again. Closer this time. Then again.

And again.

“Move aside.” Gregor’s voice was cold.

Y/N heard her guards unsheathe their swords. “No.”

There was a sudden metallic clash on the other side of the door—loud and jarring. She imagined swords clashing—only for a moment—before she heard the unmistakable gurgle of a man choking on his own blood. The bloodied end of a greatsword was thrust through the meat of the door and nearly had her toppling to the floor, clutching a bloody cheek. Blood dripped onto her dress from the sword in uneven drops.

She knew what was coming and tried to ready herself, calm herself for the coming storm. Hurried breaths slowed to careful pulls of air and curled fists relaxed as she hid her blade away in the hidden pocket of her long, bell sleeve.

The sword was wrenched back and the door thrust open and there stood Gregor Clegane, framed by the low light of the torches in the hall. He looked like a demon as she stared up at him, sneering and covered in blood. The bodies of her nameless guards were at his feet, both nearly hacked in two.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Tully.” His voice was low and sounded like gravel had imbedded itself in his throat. Gregor had left only his greaves and sabatons of his armor on and his sweat-stained tunic hung loosely about his barreled-chest—and even in her panicked mind, she knew she’d never see him more vulnerable. “You’re all mine now. Mine. Your pretty prince won’t want you anymore after I’ve had you. I’ll put a bastard in your belly.”

Y/N knew she needed to be smart. Knew she’d never be able to overpower him or beat him back. And he had just made it abundantly clear what his goal was. His meaty hands grabbed at her arms and hauled her close, his putrid breath nearly making her wretch.

“Not going to scream for me?” He asked with a jeer.

“No. That Dornish Prince is a vile snake. I will bear him no children. I would rather have a bastard of yours than a trueborn brat of his.” It felt like wildfire had been poured down her throat. And she just hoped it was what he wanted to hear as she tilted her head up like a woman of her status. “Let him know who took me first, Ser Gregor.”

His tongue hung out of his mouth and he licked his chops like a slobbering dog before he bent and licked a stripe up her neck. “All of the Seven Kingdoms will know.” He picked her up as if she weight no more than a babe and threw her onto her featherbed and quickly climbed over her, thighs as large as tree trunks bracketing her own. “I’ve always liked virgins. I like how they bleed.”

He bit at her shoulder and she suppressed a shudder and the bile she felt rising in her throat. She just needed him a little more relaxed.

“Will you bleed for me?”

His paw of a hand grasped at her breasts and pressed them down into her ribs and she bit at her lips to keep the scream at bay. Instead, she pushed out a soft moan and threw her arms around his neck.

“You’re already moaning like a whore.” He laughed. It sounded unnatural. “All you highborn ladies always moan. Except for that bitch Elia when I stuffed her full.” Calloused hands started to pull at her skirts as he continued to bite at her skin. He reached down to wrench her legs apart and move between them. “But she screamed so pretty when I grabbed her head and squeezed.”

Y/N’s heart clenched. He had admitted to murdering Elia Martell. All the rumors of how the princess’ final moments transpired had been for naught—a messy cover up.

His hips started to rut against hers and another wave of nausea rolled her stomach when she felt the press of his prick against her thighs. She delved into her sleeve and curled her fingers around the hilt of her dagger and braced. Just as he reached her underclothes, she sank the entire blade into the side of his throat and then yanked it forward, splitting open his neck. Warm crimson sprayed over her in a wave and soaked her through. “Bleed for me,” she said and his blood filled her mouth.

Gregor’s mouth opened and closed, spitting more blood onto her face. Even as his life flowed freely and quickly from the unstoppable wound, he reared back and smacked her across the face. Black dots spotted her vision instantly as a ringing muffled her ears. He moved to hit her again and Y/N rolled out from under him and off the bed. Her knees smacked against the stone floor and she scrambled to her feet and turned to see The Mountain pressing his hands to his throat, face twisted in a pale rage. He took a step toward her…then another.

Then collapsed.

Unmoving.

The door to her chambers burst open and she spun and held her dagger out, prepared to fight again.

“My Tully!” Oberyn was holding a spear out and ready but it quickly hung slack as his dark eyes took her in. Soaked in blood from the top of her head to edge of her skirts and with her cut cheek already swelling from The Mountain’s slap, she looked like she had clawed her way out of each of the Seven Hells. More Dornish guards and knights, Daemon included, followed their prince into her chambers. Swords brandished and shields at the ready.

Her grip on her dagger started to shake and it fell from her grasp, throwing small droplets of blood across the stone.

Daemon and another knight sheathed their swords and pushed over the body of Gregor, showing his face. “She’s killed The Mountain,” one of them whispered.

Oberyn dropped his spear and took a step closer to her and reached out slowly, keeping her shaking hands steady. His dark eyes searched hers, uncaring of the blood that caked her. “Breathe, My Tully. Breathe.” Carefully, he pulled one of her hands to his chest and took a breath. “Feel my heart. Breathe with me.” And his heart was a steady thrum under his warm skin and Y/N felt the tension leach from her shoulders even as her fingers continued to shake, smearing his skin with crimson. “There we go, My Tully. Breathe. It is over.”

Y/N nodded. The air tasted wrong as she pulled in a steadying breath. It took her a moment to realize that she was still tasting blood—hers or Gregor’s, she did not know. “He admitted it, my prince. He admitted to killing Princess Elia.”

Oberyn’s face dropped. “You heard him?”

She nodded and felt her lip tremble. “He-he came in and he…”

The prince wrapped her in his arms and held her tight. “You don’t have to say anything, Y/N. Not to me,” he whispered in her ear.

“But I do. I do have to tell you. I had to pretend to want it, to want him.”

“Did he touch you?” Oberyn’s voice was ice and she burrowed closer to his chest.

“He tried. I opened his throat before he could.”

His grip tightened over her and she shut her eyes as she noticed the room continuing to fill with more people—more guards, more knights, the Kingsguard were filing in. All of them were talking about how The Mountain was dead, how she was covered in blood, how there were two dead Dornishmen at the door. All of it was swirling together into a terrible scream in her ears. She wanted to disappear into Oberyn’s hold. “You gave me something I have yearned and ached for.” Oberyn said quietly, barely heard over the din of the conversation around them.

Y/N’s brow pinched as she looked up at him. “My prince, I have given you nothing-”

“Revenge, My Tully. You have killed the man who killed my dear sister, Elia, and her children. You had him confess it.” His smile was small but still tugged at her heart. “But I am sorry it came at such a cost to you. You do not deserve such brutality.”

Y/N managed to smile despite the throbbing pain that she just noticed stemming from her injured cheek. “I am glad I was able to ease your heart’s burden, my prince.” Her words were true despite the anger she still felt.

Oberyn did not release his hold. “No one will ever touch you again. Not while there is air in my lungs.”

A/N: The next chapter will finally see our Tully to Dorne, along with a few familiar faces. Please let me know what you think!

Beautiful people who asked to be tagged: @roxypeanut @lostinwonderland314 @fandomreblogsnoshame

#oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell imagine #oberyn martell x ellaria sand x reader #game of thrones imagine #oberyn martell

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mmikmmik2 · 3 years

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First impressions of episodes five and six under the readmore

The Astro Queue Car

LMFAOOOOOO at Min-Gi jumping from polite and rule-abiding The Nice One to being a smug asshole. I'm so proud of him. Passive-aggressive-ing his little heart out.

PASSIVE AGGRESSION IS AN EXTREME SPORT AND MIN-GI IS WINNING.

But yeah, jokes aside, obviously Min-Gi should be treating Ryan better. I'm definitely interpreting this a lot as Min-Gi acting in perceived emotional self defense but there's probably also some malicious "SEE, YOU WERE WRONG TO GO ON WITHOUT ME" revenge here.

I saw several other people speculating that Ryan might like the train, and I definitely thought that was plausible too, but Min-Gi almost seemed to like in this episode getting to just hang out with Ryan and be superior the whole time. But I also definitely think his anger that (as he saw it, or wanted to believe he saw it) Ryan wasn't learning lessons was legitimate. Feel like both of the guys both have a lot of paradoxical simultaneously contradictory emotions going on and both keep failing to reach the core of their issues with themselves and with each other - it feels believable that they keep ping-ponging back to 202.

LOVED the moment where they realized the astronauts are all dead. Very visually cool and creepy, and I loved Min-Gi's realization that standing still could be just as much of a mistake as making the wrong move.

Love the continuing theme of like... rushing ahead alone, and refusing to follow, can both be forms of abandonment

When the lobby of the party tower got weird and I recognized it as the moment in the trailer when the Steward appeared, I legitimately started saying "YESSSS. YESSSS," over and over again out loud. I fucking love the Steward. And Kez freezing? Is that because she's a denizen? Oh my god. I hate seeing denizens harmed but I love when they have vulnerabilities because they're artificial beings (like Atticus being turned into a ghom - we have no definitive proof but I can't imagine Amelia could do that to a human - it feels obvious to me that the orbs could only be used to "reprogram" beings that were created by those orbs in the first place). Listen, seasons two and three spoiled me with existential horror and weirdness, but apart from /maybe/ Lake hitting the invisible walls in The Wasteland they never had any "REALITY IS RIPPING APART AT THE SEAMS" horror moments the way season one did (the sun spasming in the corgi car as the Steward put its claws into that miniature world's guts? the sky behind the sky in the unfinished car? Atticus's transformation? the half-finished world being built within the engine? so good, so juicy) and I am so, so hopeful we're gonna see the Steward bring some of that tastiness this season.

The Party Car

THIS EPISODE WAS SOOOOOOOOOO GOOD

FAVORITE OF THE SEASON SO FAR

Like it delivered on multiple levels

LOVE the development for the guys, love that Ryan tried to hide the Chicken Choice Judy shirt (looks like that logo is also one of the stickers on his guitar case? but the sticker isn't nearly as big a sign of vulnerability as keeping a shirt that's too small for him to wear just because Min-Gi made it for him) and Min-Gi tried to downplay his stylophone.

I really like that Min-Gi explicitly talked about anti-Asian bias and how he was worried they'd hit a glass ceiling (if that's the right phrase to use here?) even if they were relatively successful as musicians. I was expecting this season to make an effort to build on Ryan and Min-Gi's race as part of their characters, because I've gotten the impression the writers of InfTrain do care about doing that kind of thing right, but I assumed it would stay on the level of subtext and minor incidents like Min-Gi's manager mispronouncing his name. I'm glad the show got to go there and have a character talk about racism and how it affects him.

Loved that they repeated the part with Ryan on-stage waiting for Min-Gi, but this time Ryan didn't leave while Min-Gi stayed, they had a reassuring talk between the two of them where they came to understand each other better. I /love/ when InfTrain has moments like that, where characters redo a persistent narrative/theme in their life but change the ending.

Really though I felt so fucking bad for Ryan, I was like hearing the audio from the "You can pinpoint the second when his heart rips in half" meme when he was up on stage and realized Min-Gi wasn't coming, /again/

Really liked Kez being pigeonholed as "the funny one"/"the fuckup" in her friend group. Feels like a major theme this season is characters being afraid of being perceived as failures and trying to control what other people think of them.

Almost teared up at the final moment of Min-Gi inviting Kez to join the private party in the bathroom and him and Ryan quietly, comfortably jamming together. I'm gonna cry I love them all so much

LOOOOOOVED THE TRAIN LORE THIS EPISODE

I loved getting to see a mixed denizen friend group apparently roaming the car looking for parties, that was so juicy

THE FUCKING BOOTS ARE FOR CONTROLLING PASSENGERS? THEY'RE RESTRAINING BOLTS TO GLUE THEIR FEET TO THE FLOOR WHILE THE STEWARD IS TALKING TO THEM? THAT'S HORRIBLE AND I LOVE IT!!!!

So it looks like the jumpsuits and boots DID used to be standard issue for passengers, and Amelia just got her stuff back at some point between boarding and when we saw her in the season premiere! One wtf that sucks!!!

I love that there's this creepy procedure for the Steward to like deliver messages from on high, I love how weird and disturbing it was, I love that Kez iirc said something along the lines of being used to that (i.e. her getting frozen) happening sometimes HOW OFTEN DOES THAT HAPPEN? WHY ARE YOU LIKE THAT, ONE?

So, the Steward seemed to have been traveling through the train issuing that message to all passengers? I think that was implied in One's broadcast? So interesting, I wonder how many other changes in procedure have been implemented that way. My first impression was that One was using it to broadcast from a different car, but I guess it wasn't explicitly clear if he was using the Steward like a remote speaker or if he was behind that mask the whole time and just didn't feel the need to flip it up to address the guys more directly.

There was a moment where the Steward paused and there was muffled dialogue but I couldn't hear it at all... I don't have closed captions turned on right now (if they'll even work if I do turn them on, I cannot emphasize enough what a piece of shit the HBO Max website is)... my first thought was that One backed away from the "mic" while he and Amelia were talking (it would make sense if this change in procedure were something Amelia talked him into somehow?) but maybe that was his two personalities murmuring to each other? Hm.

#infinity train spoilers

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the--highlanders · 3 years

Text

Goodnight

The Doctor and Jamie plan a wedding.

on ao3.

“Goodness me.” Wiping the back of one hand over his forehead, the Doctor stared up at the slope ahead of them. “I’m quite sure it wasn’t nearly so steep this morning.”

“That’s ‘cause we were walkin’ down it,” Jamie reminded him, nudging the Doctor’s side with his elbow. When the Doctor glanced up at him, he threw him a grin, smiling wider when he was met with a pointedly wrinkled nose. “It’s no’ that bad.” The gravel path crunched beneath their footsteps as they stepped onto the hill, filling the night air with the noise. Dew had already settled over the ground, lending the little broken pebbles a glossy sheen, and Jamie stared down at them as he walked, placing his feet carefully. The surface might have felt sturdy enough, but he could not shake the feeling that it might slip beneath him at any moment.

“It wouldn’t be so bad,” the Doctor grumbled, “if I hadn’t walked halfway across the city today. Exactly why they didn’t build the florist and the baker next to each other, I will never understand.”

“There was a baker next to the florist. They just didnae have the sort of cake ye wanted.”

“Hmph.” Taking Jamie’s hand, the Doctor pushed himself onwards up the hill with a surprising amount of vigour for someone who had spent the whole walk bemoaning his exhaustion. “It is difficult, isn’t it, planning a wedding. There’s always so many small things to think of.”

Jamie laughed, but nodded along with it. “You’d think we’d be experts by now. How many have we had?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Splaying out his free hand, the Doctor raised the other to tap at his fingers with Jamie’s fist. “Let’s see, one, two – that one on Molticune -”

“The one where they made us look after those funny wee beasties before we could have the weddin’?”

“That’s the one. The one on Polybdenus Major -”

“An’ when we had tae redo the ceremony on Polybdenus Minor.”

“Oh, that one doesn’t count, not when they just wanted to do the paperwork. No, we must have had, ah – four or five, I would say.”

“But we still havenae got the hang of it.”

“Well -” Swinging their joined hands between them, the Doctor shrugged. “Every place is different, you know. Last time we had to bake biscuits for all the guests, do you remember -”

“Aye, an’ we didnae even know them.”

“And this time, it’s – it’s flower arrangements.” The Doctor shook his head. “Far too many flower arrangements.”

“Aye.” And Jamie’s eyes would be watering from all the pollen for days, he was sure of it. Worse still, he would sneeze his way through the ceremony. “Still, it’s done now.”

The Doctor hummed softly in agreement, nodding towards the cluster of buildings set atop the hill as they drew closer. “We’ve had better accommodation for a wedding, I must say.”

The buildings were squat, practical things, hunkered down against the whip of the winter winds. Building them, the Doctor had said, had been a romantic folly – some might even have said idiocy. And they certainly bore the scars of it, the paint all but stripped away from their weathered bricks by biting sleet, the edges of their thick, flat rooves chipped and pitted. “They’re nice enough inside, though,” Jamie pointed out. “An’ the view is worth it. Ye know, lookin’ over the river, an’ all that.”

“Oh, I suppose so.” The Doctor sighed. “Doesn’t make the outside any more pleasant, though.”

The water that had pooled on the rooves after the previous night’s rain was still settled there, dripping from the overhangs and splashing down into puddles on the concrete walkways that ran between the buildings. Jamie picked his way carefully around them, leaning away from the droplets as they fell past him. He kept his arm stretched out to keep a hold of the Doctor’s hand, and they drifted back and forth, towards and away from each other, shaking off the water that fell onto their sleeves. One droplet splashed straight down onto their laced fingers, and they glanced up at each other in unison, lips pressed together to hold back their mutual laughter for a brief moment until they gave in to giggling.

“This is it, isn’t it?” The Doctor was still breathless with laughter, patting at his chest. “Dear, me. Ah – number nine, yes, this is you.” Letting go of Jamie’s hand, he fished a key out of his pocket and fumbled to unlock the door.

“Och.” Kicking at the ground, Jamie shook a few loose pieces of gravel out of the soles of his boots. He nudged them around on the concrete, watching them roll back and forth. “Ye know, I think this is the worst of all the weddin’ traditions we’ve had tae put up with.”

The Doctor made as if to swipe at him, but ended up patting his arm instead. “Hush, you. It’s only for one night. And I’ll be next door.”

“I don’t understand why we cannae share a room, that’s all.”

“Well – well, because we shouldn’t see each other on the morning of the wedding.” Jamie simply pouted, and the Doctor laughed again, clapping his shoulder more forcefully. “You’ll be quite alright.”

“I know I will.” Jamie shook his head. It was entirely irrational, he knew, and yet - “I’ve slept without ye lots of times, if I think about it. When one of us has been off somewhere else. An’ I used tae sleep on my own every night, when I first came tae stay in the TARDIS.”

The Doctor eyed him doubtfully. “Ah – not for particularly long, as I recall.”

“Aye, alright, alright.” Jamie grinned. “So I came tae bother ye soon enough. An’ Polly an’ Ben, too. But it’s different, havin’ tae sleep on my own now, an’ - an’ knowing that you’re just next door.”

“You’ll be quite alright,” the Doctor repeated. “And you won’t be on your own tomorrow night.”

“If it wasnae for this weddin’,” Jamie grumbled, “I wouldnae be on my own tonight.”

“It’s not too late to call it off, you know.”

“No.” Catching the Doctor’s hand as he swung it, Jamie pulled him into a hug. “No, I didnae mean that.”

“Well, good. Because I’m, ah, rather set on seeing those archives.”

Jamie huffed out a chuckle, feeling it rumble against the Doctor’s chest where it pressed against his own. “An’ that’s the only reason you’re gonnae marry me tomorrow?”

“Of course.” The Doctor’s voice hitched, like he was trying to swallow down a chuckle of his own. “It’s quite practical. I just want to see the material they reserve for, ah – for married men.”

“Of course,” Jamie parroted back. “I thought ye weren’t a man.”

“Ah, well – they don’t need to know that, do they?” Swaying from side to side, the Doctor hummed out a vibration of his own. “And it might have been rather awkward if I had to get married to someone else.”

“We couldnae have that.”

“Certainly not.”

Turning his head a little, Jamie pressed a kiss to the Doctor’s temple. “I’ll see ye tomorrow, aye?”

“Yes.” The Doctor bit the inside of his lip like he thought it would hide his smile, but his hands were twisting together behind Jamie’s back. “Tomorrow.” His voice wavered a little, even on the one small word. It might have been anticipation, Jamie supposed – but it sounded more like something else.

“There’s no need tae be nervous,” he said. “We’re already married, ye know.”

“Yes, yes, I know. But every place is different.”

“Aye, ‘spose so.” Pulling away, Jamie shoved open the door to his room, edging as far inside as he could without letting go of the Doctor’s hand. The Doctor had pulled the key to his own door out of his pocket, but was jabbing it towards everything but the keyhole, his eyes still fixed on Jamie. His fingers were tightly closed around Jamie’s own, holding him in place. “Ye have tae let go now, Doctor.”

“Must I?”

“Now who’s bein’ clingy?” Grinning, Jamie squeezed his hand. “Ye don’t want tae yawn all through the weddin’, do ye?”

The Doctor’s hand sprang open, and he pulled it back against his chest, rubbing his palm against it like he was trying to feel the ghost of Jamie’s touch. “Ah – goodnight.” The key was still missing the keyhole, but he simply rocked back and forth on his heels, watching Jamie.

“Goodnight,” Jamie replied, reaching out to touch the Doctor’s wrist. He threw a glance over his shoulder, pointing towards the darkened room. “I’m gonnae -”

“Yes – ah -” At last, the Doctor found the right slot for the key. “Well. Goodnight.”

Jamie laughed again, pulling his own door closed until all he could see was a sliver of the Doctor’s face. “Goodnight.” He realised moments too late tht he had already said it, and snorted out a self-deprecating chuckle. “I mean -”

“Off with you.” Flapping his hand at Jamie, the Doctor vanished through his own door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Aye.” They shoved their hands outside in unison, squeezing them together before pulling their doors entirely closed. “Tomorrow.”

#second doctor #two/jamie #fanfic archive #my writing

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purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1044

survey by a7xbabii

Do you use e-mail often? I use it for eight hours, five days a week for work, so yes.

Do you hear any animals right now? I’m in a Starbucks inside a mall situated in the middle of a busy highway. It would be very unlikely to hear any animals right now.

Are you in a well-lit room? Sure, I’d say this establishment has good lighting. There’s no light directly above me unlike the other seats, but it’s okay in this case as I don’t want other people seeing me take surveys.

Is your trashcan full? The main one we use at home just got full, so the last time I checked this morning my mom was airing it out.

What was the last crunchy thing you consumed? My chicken barbecue sandwich from last night.

Did you view anything disturbing today? Hmm, I guess so? I wanted to entirely redo one part of my embroidery piece since I wasn’t happy with how I did it, so I had to remove the threads and stuff. When they were all gone the template was filled with holes and it looked like one of those trypophobia photos. I’m not personally disturbed by that phenomenon, but I know a lot of people are.

Are there any holiday decorations in your house? Yeah, we’ve had our Christmas tree up since the beginning of November. We also usually put a wreath up our door but idk why my mom didn’t this year.

When was the last time you had a terrible headache? Last night, because I had not eaten all day.

Have you recently put lotion on your hands? No. I don’t like the feeling of lotion, so I don’t apply it on me a lot, if at all.

Are you hungry? Not so much, actually. I don’t feel too hungry today; I didn’t even finish my breakfast and that’s the only meal I’ve had so far today, and it’s already 4 PM.

Is it rainy where you're at right now? No, it’s quite fair. The sun’s not too strong anymore because of the time, but it’s still very much bright out.

Do you carry a purse? If so, describe what it looks like. I take a wallet with me. It’s pink, made of fake leather, has three main slots inside, and it also has some tiny bite marks on the outer edges from when Cooper was a lot younger.

Is your cell phone on vibrate? For certain notifications only, like texts and Viber.

Is your dishwasher full? We don’t use a dishwasher.

When is the last time you saw someone you like/love. Around a week and a half ago.

Do you like to wear gloves? No, I find them too itchy and I don’t need to wear them anyway.

Is there a body of water near where you live? There’s a creek that passes through my village near the clubhouse area, if that counts.

What are your thoughts on Avenged Sevenfold? No opinion. I never listened to them; though I am reminded of this one mutual I used to have on Tumblr/Twitter. She used to be a wrestling fan and was a part of our main circle, but she gradually shifted her main fandom to Avenged Sevenfold. By the time she cemented her new interest she then went on a huge unfollowing spree of wrestling fans on her feed and she apparently PM’d each person she intended to unfollow, including me. I remember her explaining that she was now in a different fandom and was gonna have to stop following me which I found...kinda extra to be honest lmao because nobody does that, but I appreciate the effort to approach each one of us, I guess.

Are you wearing anything pink right now? Nope, but my wallet is pink and so is my keyboard cover.

Do you like to swim in the ocean? I prefer beaches, but sure.

What is the creepiest bug you've ever saw? Cockroaches.

Do you currently have split ends? I don’t think so.

When is the last time you used the bathroom? Around five hours ago when I took a shower before heading out.

Do you chew on your lip? Almost never.

Are you afraid of needles? For the most part yeah, especially syringes. I’m not afraid of them when I do my embroidery, but that’s the only time I feel comfortable with a needle.

What is the last thing you lost? A pen, I think.

When is the last time you saw a bald person? Five hours ago, when I said bye to my dad.

What car were you last in? [continued from two days ago] My own. I was driving home from the mall.

Do you like Batman? I tried to get into Batman and the whole shebang of comic books when I was a teenager, but I just couldn’t.

Have you ever played tennis? Never have, actually. I’ve always wanted to try.

Can you see a star shape in the room you are in? Probably not in my bedroom.

What are you sitting on? A pillow I’ve placed on my work chair so that it’s more comfortable. My parents got me a basic chair initially meant just for my internship, so it’s not the comfiest of chairs haha. But now that I have a job, a more suitable work chair is probably one of things I’ll have to invest on.

What is the last warm thing you touched? My chest felt itchy just a few seconds ago, so I was able to feel my skin scratching it.

Do you use hand sanitizer? That’s kind of a necessity now, so...

Where do you want to go in life? [continued from...I don’t even remember anymore] I don’t know if I even plan to make it past 30 at this point. I can’t answer this right now.

Are you sweating? No, I’ve been in air-conditioned rooms all day and it feels so damn good.

When is the last time you had to scratch an itch? A few minutes ago when my neck itched.

Are you in any kind of club or group that is trying to save animals? No, but I very much support the cause.

Who is the last blonde you saw? At work today I saw someone who had her hair dyed blonde.

Where were you two hours after you got up, and what were you doing there? I needed to go to the office today because my team and I needed to pack some stuff to seed to certain media. It was the first time I got to visit the place and it was sooooooo homey and pretty :) I wish we can be allowed to work in the office soon; it would be best for my mental health at this point.

Do you wish for world peace? Um, of course.

Have you ever played fetch with a dog? We were able to teach Cooper how to pick up items that we throw but he’s still slowly learning that he actually has to give it back to us, haha.

What is the nearest object that is wood? The table I am typing on is made of wood.

Do you use Netflix? Yes, we have a family subscription.

Does your house have a fireplace? No, we don’t. And I can confidently tell you all other houses in this entire country, and probably the whole of Southeast Asia, don’t.

Do you wake yourself up in the morning, or does someone else? I wake myself up. On important days, I’ll put an alarm on.

What kind of hoodie did you last wear? It was a white hoodie with a UP seal on the left side.

Do you play games on your computer? No, my laptop isn’t equipped for games. I tried downloading Sims 4 when they made it free for a few weeks back in 2018, but my laptop’s fan started whirring like crazy and the battery got drained super fast. The entire period of me booting it up and then deleting it took like, a literal 15 minutes.

What is the last video game that you played? Mario Kart 8 on the Switch. I want to get myself Switch games as gifts, but I’m just so stingy towards myself hahaha.

Have you ever pet a stingray? I’m 50% would like to at least once and 50% I know of what it did to Steve Irwin, and I’m not messing with them.

If you were on vacation, would you ever go to Ireland? It’s not a big item on my bucket list, honestly. I’d love to go to Ireland, but it would probably be a part of a bigger itinerary, like if I decided to take a trip to that part of Europe.

Are you logged into Myspace right now? I haven’t been on there for more than a decade.

Did you have anything bad happen to you today? Yeah, but they’re stuff that happened at work that are a little hard to explain.

Have you ever been to New York? Nope. I’d love to take a trip there.

Do you use the term "lol" if you don't have anything to say? Not really. I use it in the end of my messages more so that I don’t sound mean.

Should you be sleeping right now instead of taking this survey? Hell no. It’s a Friday night so the last thing I want to be doing is sleeping.

Can you truly say you hate anyone? I don’t think so. I greatly dislike my brother, but I guess I don’t hate him. I find it too strong a word.

Have you ever disected a baby pig in a class at school? Not a piglet, no. We dissected an earthworm, a fish, and eventually a frog.

What brand of dish liquid do you use? A local brand you wouldn’t recognize.

When is the last time you ate a Hershey Kiss? It’s probably been more than a year. It’s not my favorite candy.

Do you ever feel unappreciated? Yes.

Do you currently have any blemishes on your face? No. My pimple finally went away, hallelujah.

Who is the last baby you held? My cousin who is now 13 years old. I’m too anxious to hold babies; I always feel like I’d drop them so I find myself declining even when I have the chance to hold one.

Are you a lover? I guess.

Do you use smileys often in text convos? Yes. Not a lot of people like them but it’s better to sound friendly and approachable than stoic.

Do you have the Google toolbar on your computer? Like...Chrome? I have the program, yeah. It’s my default browser as well.

Do you like Sunkist? I’ve never had it.

Would you ever consider being a cannibal? I mean...I guess only if I was in a life-and-death situation, like if a plane I was in crashed on an island and I was starting to get hungry. I certainly don’t fantasize about cannibalism on any regular day.

Did you forget something important in the past week? I made a few mistakes at work due to me forgetting things, yeah.

Do you like learning new things? Sure.

What color is your toothpaste? White.

Are the floors in your house creaky? Nopes. I don’t think our doors are creaky-level just yet as well.

Do you fear death? I hate the uncertainty of what happens while it’s taking place, and what happens after. But I’ve been wishing for it for a while as well. There’s a difference.

Is your mouth dry? Not right now, no.

Do yoou have any scars from an animal? Yeah I’ve got a few marks and scratches from Cooper. I never run out of them, really.

Did you have fun with this survey? It was okay.

Was it random enough? Sure.

#survey #surveys

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sonicgetsrawed · 4 years

Note

cayyyy can i request a bit? domestic modern varigo but it's hugo gay panicking bc v just claps back? safe flight btw!! love you and all ur fic babies!!

Ok sorry babes I saw gay panic and modern and the rest went out the door!!! I hope you still enjoy!!! A continuation of my day 5 varigo week prompt!!! Enjoy!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

It had been two weeks since he’d ran into the most beautiful stranger he’d ever seen, and he couldn’t stop thinking about him. Sure he’d been able to keep his cool during their initial encounter, but since then he found himself becoming more and more flustered whenever he thought about their upcoming meeting in a few hours. Varian had texted him only forty eight minutes after their disastrous meeting, not that he’d been counting the minutes or anything. And after three failed attempts to meet they were finally meeting up at a local cat cafe that Rapunzel had insisted they go to. Realistically he knew he had nothing to worry about, there was no way this could go worse than their first meeting, but mentally he was freaking out. He’d spent the last two weeks not only casually texting Varian, but also getting Rapunzel to share as much information about him as possible. He didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with him. He hadn’t cared this much about a date in a while, hell he hadn’t even cared when it was a blind date, but now he was a fucking mess. And now it was time for him to meet with Varian.

He quickly grabbed his keys off the counter and headed out the door, the cafe only being about two blocks for each of them. Which was great because neither had a car. He hurried down the street, shooting Varian a quick message to let him know he was on his way, not five seconds later he got a reply.

Coffee Bean: see you soon!!

Hugo’s heart melted as he held the phone to his chest. He’d heard the words before, but when they came from Varian it sent his heart pounding in his chest. Actually anything Varian did sent his heart fluttering. It stopped completely when he spotted the shorter, panic quickly rising in his chest. He looked like an absolute angel standing on the sidewalk, rocking back and forth on his heels slightly, his eyes glued to his phone. He wore a smiple pair of dark jeans, the bottoms rolled up around his dirty untied blue converse, a dark grey T-shirt underneath his too big blue flannel. Hugo glances down at his own outfit, a pair of black slacks, his freshly polished work shoes instead of his usual boots, a plain white button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a green vest left open to appear more casual. Shit. And it was with a startling realization that Hugo knew he was overdressed. He didn’t have time to go back and change, he’d already told Varian he was on his way, if he took too long he’d think something happened, or worse that he’d been ditched. Hugo ducked into a nearby alleyway, shedding his vest and button up, tossing the button up behind a garbage can and praying it would still be there when they finished their date before throwing the vest back on over his white undershirt. There wasn’t much he could do about his bottom half, but he hoped he didn’t look too overly dressed now. He took a moment to compose himself before heading back onto the sidewalk.

“Hey, Coffee Bean!” Hugo called, his heart fluttering as Varian turned to face him, offering him a small lopsided smile and a wave.

“I was starting to worry you got lost.” Varian teased, any nervousness he had when they met seemingly gone.

“Haha, me, lost? Psh, no.” Hugo said, a light dusting of pink already painting his cheeks. It was sweet Varian was worried and he’d made a fucking ass of himself. “Um, you look nice, I guess.” Fuck, he was so fucking stupid. “I mean you always look nice! Like constantly. Just in this constant state of nice.”

“Just nice? I thought I looked pretty sexy with coffee all over my shirt.” Varian said, pushing up on his tiptoes so he could smugly smirk at Hugo.

“I- I’m- uh- you- yes.” Hugo stuttered, shooting a finger gun in Varian’s direction. Thankfully Varian just laughed.

“I’m just teasing, but you do look nice too.” Varian said, sinking back to his normal height. And Hugo quickly found he missed him being so close. “Shall we head inside?”

“Yes!” Hugo said, perhaps a bit too excitedly if the look Varian shot him was anything to go by. “I mean, Uh, unless you don’t want to?”

“Oh no, I do. You still owe me that coffee.” Varian said, swinging the door to the cafe open. Hugo followed close behind, mentally slapping himself for already making an idiot of himself. He should probably apologize for ruining his shirt again.

“Hey, Var-“

“What do you want?” Varian asked, pointing to the menu on the wall before heading to the register. “I’ll have a hot chocolate please.”

“I’ll have a coffee, Uh, black.” Hugo ordered, cringing at his own order. He didn’t even fucking like coffee, why did he do that? He hadn’t even paid any attention as the barista rambled off their total until Varian held out his card. He didn’t think as he grabbed Varian’s hand, preventing him from handing over the card. “It’s my treat.”

“I- I thought you were joking.” Varian admitted, his face flushing as he glanced down at their hands. Hugo quickly pulled back.

“N-no, I was serious. I told you I’d get you that coffee.” Hugo said, handing over the cash to the barista and putting the change in the tip jar.

“But I-“

“You can thank me later.” Hugo said with a wink before tripping over a cat that had chosen that exact moment to rub at his leg. “Fuck.” And the furry death trap had the audacity to hiss at him.

“Shit, are you okay?” Varian asked, barely suppressing the laugh that bubbles from his lips. Hugo stares emptily at the ceiling, could he just disappear right now? Could this please be a dream? Was a redo possible? A cat jumped onto his stomach, apparently not. “Awww, this one likes you.” Varian cooed.

Hugo glanced down at it, the same gray bastard that just tried to kill him. “He’s plotting my death I can feel it.” Hugo deadpanned, pushing himself up into a sitting position, staring in awe as Varian joined him on the floor.

“Aw no, he’s just a sweetheart. Aren’t you?” Varian said, scratching the cat underneath it’s chin, it immediately erupted into a series of purrs. He turned the tag over in his hands, glancing at its name. “Ruddiger?”

“He’s been here for a while.” The barista said, leaning over the counter, expanding when Varian tilted his head. “Ruddiger. All of the cats are adoptable, Ruddy’s been here the longest.”

“Is that so, buddy? I can’t see why.” Varian said, letting the furry beast crawl all over him.

“I can.” Hugo mumbled, not that Varian heard him, he was too focused on the furry fleabag.

“Can we adopt him?” Varian asked, why he asked him in the first place he’d never know, but he did with those wide blue eyes, his bottom lip jutting out into a pout, the cat squished against his face. And Hugo knew he was so fucking royally screwed. He’d never be able to say no to this boy, and goddamn it he didn’t think he wanted to.

“Okay. Fine.” Hugo grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose, Varian letting out a squeal as he hugged the cat close.

“You hear that Ruddy? You’ve got a home now!” Varian said excitedly, nuzzling the cat. Hugo smiled, completely enthralled watching Varian’s face light up with complete and utter happiness. They forgot about their drinks, and left the cafe, Ruddiger in tow, to get Varian all set up for his new friend. It definitely wasn’t the date he had planned but he wouldn’t change it nonetheless. Varian was perfect in every way and Rapunzel’s numerous descriptions of him did no justice to the boy in front of him. He hadn’t even noticed the night was over until he was at Varian’s doorstep.

“I’m sorry this didn’t go the way you planned.” Varian said, wiping his hands on his jeans, the furry bastard already settled inside his apartment.

“That’s okay, this was a hell of a lot better than drinking coffee in some stuffy cafe.” Hugo said, stuffing his hands into his cat hair covered pants.

“I’m glad you think so, because you still owe me a coffee.” Varian said with a smirk.

“I’m- what?” Hugo said, the realization that he never actually bought Varian the coffee he promised dawning on him. “You’re right.”

“You’ll get used to it.” Varian said with a wink, not giving Hugo a chance to respond before grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him into a kiss. It was fast and a little sloppy, almost like he had to convince himself to do it before he backed out, but to Hugo it was perfect. And he didn’t even care that his button down was gone when he got back to the alleyway.

#tangled the series #varian #varian and the seven kingdoms #hugo #varigo #modern au #asks #get to know cayenne

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elsenova · 3 years

Text

fallout 4 house tour *throwing confetti in the air* for my sosu adam : ]

btw im using like a LOT of decor mods (ocdecorator is extremely chefs kiss if youre as picky as i am) and a cleaned version of the home plate !

under cut bc its so long < 3

some notes going in first and foremost i did want to retain the feel of this being in the fallout universe while not having everything look dirty and messy 100% of the time . i also wanted it to be nicer than you’d generally see since adam is the sole survivor and probably lives a little bit more comfortably than some other diamond city residents , but still lived-in and a little disorganized bc that’s just what he’s like . another thing about adam is that he is very much the “everyone can crash at my place” friend so there’s a lot of spaces dedicated to other people or other people’s belongings scattered around . there’s also a danse pinup poster hidden somewhere in this house bc i thought it’d be funny and if you can figure out where it is i will give you five dollars (i will not actually do this)

this little loft area that leads to the roof was too small to be a real bedroom , so it’s an area dedicated to adam’s friend wren , an amnesiac ex-courser with a tendency to show up places unannounced . adam is used to everyone doing this to him , so it’s nbd . i did also add a wall here so the whole thing feels less like its about to fall apart

adam and danse’s room (shhh he’s sleeping). this is pre-blind betrayal so they are both in the brotherhood at the moment BUT my personal hc is that danse would join the minutemen after the game’s main plot so once i’m there ingame that flag will be replaced . fuck the brotherhood all my homies hate the brotherhood

their living room ... bookshelves were not all done by hand bc that’d be a headache , they’re filled via the do it yourshelf mod . the boxes in the back corner are storage for nick and jess(the other sosu , who is a synth and my boyfriend’s character) . bi flag is self explanatory adam is bisexual . also a closer shot of that coffee table bc i had to redo it THREE TIMES

cute little dinig room table / desk area . you’ll notice adam has a lot of plants . this was intentional . i have very little to say about this except that adam does in fact smoke in the house sometimes < 3

a medical area ... adam was a combat medic (bc i was not about to make him a Boot Boy) so this space at least is clean and neat . a fun fact about this is that i used one of those power extension wires to make it look like it’s connected to the terminal , which i had to carefully clip into it . the chair was stolen from the institute . he likes it .

yes the mugs are laid over the calendar here . i dont feel like fixing it right now LMAO . dining area bar type thing ... and yes every cap on the checkerboard is placed by hand . i dont fuck around . there’s a dog bowl for dogmeat and as adam and danse are in the brotherhood i imagine they’re probably most comfortable with cafeteria-style dishes , so they have those . adam only busts out the fancy dinner plates for family dinners .

just a little cooking area / pantry ... there are 5 boxes of snack cakes in frame bc a majority of adam’s friends and family are synths . i also really like those string lights if you couldn't tell .

power armor fixing / general modding area .i would have put danse’s armor in the stand but he fucking murdered me for stealing it . this is a no power armor on house you could at least put it in its designated area , DANSE .

some weight sets bc this is a house full of insane jocks and a little “guest room” type area .

i went through like 3 renditions of this house including one where i started a new game (adam ... 2 !). i spent so much time on it and while there are still some things i could improve i consider the bulk of it to be finished . i have a few other player / npc homes i wanna do but this is my only complete one atm ! thanks for reading my long ass post < 3

#fallout 4 #fallout #captain's log

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sage-nebula · 3 years

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3, 4, 22

3.) Game that deserves a sequel?

The first games that immediately came to mind are already getting sequels. The one that I would normally say after that is also getting a sequel coming out next year. So I’m going to say . . . Golden Sun: Dark Dawn. It ended on a cliffhanger and while many people took issue with the game for not being what they wanted / expected so many years after The Lost Age, I still want to see where the story was intended to go and I think it’s only right to give us a fourth game, given they left the third game off the way they did.

That said, I would also like a proper sequel to Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney, as well as a follow-up to Ace Attorney: Dual Destinies, since we haven’t had a proper sequel to either of those. Thanks Capcom.

4.) Game that deserves a remaster?

Sonic Adventure 2!!! Look, I know it’s the source of many memes, but it is a legitimately good game with a good story and characters and I want to see it remade in the style of the current games. Not necessarily the gameplay (although if they could add more hedgehog stages and reduce the number of gem hunting / mecha walker stages that would be great), but in terms of the graphics and whatnot. The script could receive some tweaks as well, and we could even have most of the current cast, although I will put my foot down and say that we need David Humphrey back as Shadow. No hate to Kirk Thornton, he’s good at other things, but he is not a good Shadow and his Ultra Edgelord voice would not work for Shadow’s original characterization in SA2. But even with them redoing the voice acting, they could still include some of the things that gave meme charm, such as Sonic and Shadow talking over each other in the forest confrontation (and that script would have to stay the EXACT SAME, I will NOT hear any word against it). So some things could definitely be kept, but overall the graphics and some of the gameplay just did not age well and I would LOVE to see it get a remaster, rather than just an upscaled port.

22.) Games you want to play?

Let’s see, my current list is:

Raji: An Ancient Epic (have started this one actually, but not too far in yet)

Story of Seasons: Pioneers of Olive Town

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild 2

Neo: The World Ends With You

Hollow Knight: Silksong

Immortals: Fenyx Rising(?)

That last one gets a question mark because I’m not sure if I still want to play it . . . I knew that it was inspired by Breath of the Wild, but I’ve come to realize that “inspired by” is putting it mildly. It’s basically a direct ripoff, which is a huge turn off to me, much like how I didn’t want to touch Gleamlight because it was a pretty obvious ripoff of Hollow Knight. Obviously there will be inspirations when great games are created, that’s how games continue to get better overtime, but when it’s obvious that everything from the aesthetic to the movements of the characters have been ripped off, my interest drops to zero. So while I was at first interested in Immortals: Fenyx Rising because I thought it might give me the same happiness that Breath of the Wild did, I’m very hesitant now because I feel like I might just end up judging it the whole time, and thus it might not be worth the money.

Numbers three through five are sequels to games I love, so those are obvious. And while I’ve never played a Story of Seasons game, the trailer made it seem like Stardew Valley to me without seeming like a ripoff, so I’m intrigued by that one. (Plus I feel like it’d be a cyclical thing, because iirc Story of Seasons was made by the original Harvest Moon team, and Stardew Valley was inspired by Harvest Moon. So it’s greatness building on greatness here.)

I’m sure more games will be added to this list sooner rather than later, but for right now this is what I’ve got! So many games, so little time (time that is not helped by me booting up The Sims 4 again, oops.)

#video game ask meme #I do like what I've played of Raji so far #but it's been very little and I'm not pulled in yet #so progress will be slow I feel #we will get there though #sooner or later #yume-x-hanabi

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pronouncingitwang · 4 years

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wtgfs | 2.5K words | basically a redo of mag94 with more crying and cuddling | for tma h/c week day 6: cradled

Georgie wraps her braids and changes into her pajamas, feeling—not fear, or apprehension, because that’s not possible, but perhaps, less excitement than usual. She normally doesn’t notice her heartbeat, but tonight, she does. It’s stable, but the fact that she checked in the first place is another bad sign.

“You said you wanted to tell me something,” Melanie says as Georgie gets under her blanket.

Georgie nods slowly, then realizes that Melanie can’t see it. “Yeah. I did.”

“I… I might’ve misread you, but it sounded serious?”

Georgie’s heart continues to beat, slow and steady. “A little.”

“Do you want to start?”

“Sure.”

“Talk away, then.”

“Okay.” Georgie shifts into a more comfortable position, then closes her eyes. “You know how I graduated from uni a year late?”

“Yeahh,” Melanie says, slowly. “You said it was for mental health?”

“Right.” Georgie blows out a breath. “Which was true, definitely, but… that’s not the full story. It’s, well…”

The last time Georgie did this, it was with Jon, the Eye drawing the words out of her like sap from a particularly juicy tree. This time, there’s nothing spurring her forward but her own determination. “Blood from a stone” is a far more apt simile.

“Uh, basically, my first year at Oxford, there was some stuff going down with the med students—or wait, I should probably start by saying I had… a friend named Alex… Or… no… that’s not it, either. God,” Georgie groans. “Why is this so hard?”

“Probably because talking sucks,” Melanie says. Georgie laughs, and Melanie adds, “I could… I could hug you while you told me? If that- Would that help?”

Georgie considers it, thinks about burying her face in the scent of Melanie’s citrus shampoo, so different from the antiseptic and decay of the Oxford medical building, thinks about feeling the strength of Melanie’s arms around her as she whispers out her story. “Yeah. Maybe.”

It takes a lot of shuffling around to get into the right positions, especially since Georgie’s vast collection of pillows include a body-sized one that forms what’s practically a wall between the two of them. Melanie sniffles a little as Georgie moves a few pillows to the nightstand, and Georgie makes a mental note to buy some allergy-friendly/dust-resistant pillowcases soon. Then, there’s getting into the hug. At some point Melanie grabs Georgie’s boob, which is… something to revisit. Eventually, though, they’re settled properly, Melanie’s arms around Georgie’s waist and their legs tangled together.

“Ready to try again?” Melanie asks, in a voice Georgie’s pretty sure is meant to imitate her therapist’s. She appreciates the effort to sound soothing.

“Yeah. Okay. Rewind. So, my first year at Oxford…”

Even with the hug, it’s still not as easy as it was with Jon. With Jon, Georgie was practically in a trance, but here, she has to form every word herself, relive every image. It’s like… if the first time was Georgie walking through a fog-lined street, her boots crunching uncomfortably against the ground, the second time is Georgie walking through the same street, except the fog is gone and it turns out she’d been stepping on bird bones or something equally crunchy and awful the entire time, and every step she takes, Georgie has to watch the bones break under her feet and cane. Not only that, but she cares more about Melanie’s opinion than Jon’s. As she stumbles forward, Georgie forgets details, has to backtrack, and leaves a lot of modifiers dangling in the process.

But in some ways, this is also easier. Easier because the background sounds are Melanie’s breathing and occasional vocal stimming instead of the dead whir of a tape recorder. Easier because the main physical sensation Georgie’s experiencing isn’t her skin prickling from Jon’s intense gaze on her face, but the increasingly firm circles Melanie is rubbing into her neck.

“And… now I’m here,” Georgie finishes, inadequately. “The end. Or, I guess, the End, with a capital E, according to Jon.”

Georgie feels Melanie swallow. Then, “Georgie… you’re saying you lost—”

Georgie had figured that that part would call for more explanation, but luckily, she has an explanation prepared. “My ability to feel fear, I know, not necessarily a bad thing—”

“—your best friend,” Melanie finishes, and Georgie stops breathing. Oh.

“What?”

Melanie shifts against Georgie. “Alex Brooke, right? You said… you said she was your only friend at Oxford, and you said you never saw her again.”

Oh, Georgie thinks again, and feels a swell of love and long-buried grief rise up in her chest, oh.

The first few weeks after she woke up, Georgie had been too numb to even wonder what had happened to Alex. The month after that, she’d tried to call her, three times a day, every day. Then, one day, she’d realized that perhaps she should’ve been checking the newspapers instead of her phone. That night was the first time Georgie’s parents had seen her drunk. They’d looked so afraid—something Georgie would never be able to do again. She’d shouted at them until their concern turned to exasperation and spent the next week in bed biting her nails off.

“I guess I… hadn’t thought about that for a while.”

“I’m so sorry, Georgie,” Melanie says. She means it.

“Thanks,” Georgie whispers, for lack of better things to say, and buries her nose further into Melanie’s hair. Her joints are beginning to protest at her staying in this position for so long, but she keeps holding on. Just a few more minutes.

“Do you…” Melanie starts. “Do you miss her?”

“I…” Georgie clears her throat and tries again. “I don’t know,”

“It’s okay if you don’t,” Melanie says. “ I don’t miss my dad most days, and he died a lot more recently than Alex did.”

“Thanks,” Georgie whispers for the second time that night. “I think… I think about her sometimes, but I don’t know if it’s because I miss her, or because… It’s more like… I used to blame myself for going with her instead of- instead of trying to stop her, or pulling her out as soon as I saw how- how fucked up the situation was. And then I spent a lot of time thinking the opposite, blaming her for not leaving well enough alone. I thought, well, ‘Alex already made her choices, and her choices were bad.’ I wished so badly that my younger self had just… stayed away. Let her friend go to her death alone.”

“And now?”

“Now? After you, and Jon, and… Well, now, I don’t know,” Georgie says, and notices, for the first time, that there’s a lump in her throat and that her eyes are stinging. “I don’t”—and then she starts to cry.

Georgie hears the intake of breath from Melanie when she realizes what’s happening, feels Melanie’s thumb stop moving against her neck and just stay there, pressing into her skin. Georgie feels her own throat, choking out various ugly sounds, hears those sounds tear out of her in the form of sobs and ragged breaths. She thinks she might be getting snot on Melanie’s shirt and hair, but she’s shaking too badly to reach for a tissue to wipe it off.

Alex and Jon and Melanie and Alex. She’d failed Alex, or maybe Alex failed her. She’d let Jon stay in her guest room and watched him waste away, and then she’d practically told him that she wished he was dead and to get out of her flat. Melanie—Melanie had wanted Georgie’s help, and Georgie’s help had happened to be what Melanie needed, and Melanie is here and safe, but just for now, and if Georgie fails Melanie like she’d failed Alex she will be so fucking sad, and if Melanie fails Georgie like Alex had failed Georgie, she will be so fucking sad, and if Melanie ends up in a coma or on the run or if they cross each other’s boundaries too much she will be so fucking sad—

The first thing that cuts through the crying isn’t comfort, but a different pain—an ache in Georgie’s lower back that grows persistently harder to ignore. She groans and turns out of Melanie’s arms, back into starfish position on her side of the bed, and Melanie makes a sound of confusion at the sudden loss.

“I moved, it’s- it’s the arthritis,” Georgie explains between one sob and the next, and Melanie says, “Oh, of course.”

—and if either of them grow resentful of each other, then she will be so fucking sad, and if they have money problems or The Admiral dies she will be so fucking sad, and—

Georgie thinks, dully, that crying on her back is very different from crying on her side. Earlier, Georgie could curl into herself, into Melanie, but now, each of her sobs punches upward into empty air. The closest thing to an embrace she has now is her awareness of the potential weight of the ceiling, hanging seven feet above her, out of reach, just like Alex and Jon and maybe, one day—

“Melanie,” Georgie gasps. “Can you… hold my arm or something?”

“Of course,” Melanie responds immediately. Then, “Um, where exactly is your arm?”

“Uh, if you- if you take your hand and go up a little more—”

“Got it.” Melanie says, moving where Georgie has directed her, and for one beautiful second, all of Georgie’s consciousness narrows down to the warmth of those five fingers curling around her skin. Then, she remembers that she’s lying on her bed crying, and the moment is broken. It’s still better now, though, having something to anchor her, something to remind her that she is more than burning eyes and heaving chest.

It takes a while, but eventually, Georgie begins to calm down, her thoughts and breaths slowing down and her muscles loosening. She fumbles for the tissue box and begins to wipe at her face, then passes a few sheets to Melanie.

“I, uh, snotted on your hair a bit,” she explains. “It might be hard to feel, do you want me to get it?” and Melanie nods.

Once they’re all cleaned up and Georgie has fetched them both a glass of water, Melanie turns to her again.

“Is this…” Melanie starts, then stops. “Is this something you want to talk about more, or something you want to be distracted from?”

“I’m… not sure, actually,” Georgie croaks, wiping at her eyes again to catch any stray saltwater. “I just… I wanted you to hear it; I wasn’t really thinking about afterwards.”

“If I had to guess… That sounds like a distraction thing to me? But… I’m not sure what kind of distraction would make you feel better.”

“Well”—Georgie lets out a wet laugh—“you’re already doing miles better than Jon did, at least.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. To be fair, I didn’t cry when I told him about everything. But all he had to say was something about how he”—she puts on Jon’s posh accent and deepens her voice—“‘couldn’t believe I never told him’ or something.”

“What a wanker,” Melanie says, and unlike the other times she’s insulted Jon this week, there’s actual heat behind it.

“An inconsiderate dickhead,” Georgie agrees. “But,” she admits, “I think I’ve been worse to him.”

“I… I’d say so too,” Melanie replies, but thankfully, she doesn’t push Georgie any further in that direction. Melanie’s fingers flex against Georgie’s arm, a signal that they’ll pick up this thread of conversation later. “Though I still think the real dickhead here is Ms. Trauma Corpse of Medicalville.”

Georgie’s giggle comes out weaker than she expected. “Yeah?”

“Absolutely.” In her most passable radio announcer voice, Melanie cries, “Melanie hates her! Local medical corpse discovers supernatural method to traumatize her girlfriend. Click here to learn more and/or stab that fucker with a cool knife cane.”

Georgie laughs again, and Melanie continues, this time in a bad American tourist voice. “I visited Trauma Corpse with my family yesterday afternoon, and I have to say, it’s a real piece of shit. The human equivalent of a moldy chunk of cheese, or rice cooked in a saucepan. Zero out of five stars.”

“Would not recommend,” Georgie adds.

“Exactly. And,” Melanie presses on, returning to her normal voice, “what kind of name is ‘Trauma Corpse’ anyway? White people and their ridiculous baby names, seriously!”

This time, Georgie’s laugh is completely genuine. “I agree. It’s disgraceful. Motherfucking ‘Trauma Corpse.’”

“Motherfucking?” Melanie lets out an exaggeratedly affronted gasp. “She fucked your mother, too? A homewrecker on top of everything else? Do Ms. Corpse’s crimes ever end?”

That’s an awful—but distracting—mental image, which was probably the point. “Clearly not.”

Melanie smiles, and then, very slowly and carefully, moves to rest her cheek in Georgie’s palm. Her next words blow warm against Georgie’s wrist. “Seriously, though, Georgie… the evil thing here is The End, and whatever else may have been animating that body. Not you or Alex.”

Georgie lets the sentence linger in the air for a moment. Not Georgie’s fault. Not Alex’s. The thought wraps around her, not quite touching her skin, but warm. Close. Possible.

“Thanks,” Georgie says for the third time that night. She means it.

“God,” Melanie sighs into Georgie’s palm, “I’m not very good at this distraction thing, am I?”

“No, but it’s still helping. A lot, actually.”

“Good,” Melanie says, and chastely kisses Georgie’s wrist.

A slow smile spreads over Georgie’s face at the feeling. Said smile sparks several thoughts that occur to her in quick succession. She considers said thoughts, then performs a quick self-assessment: joints feel better, heart beating steadily, emotions fairly settled except for the part where she is very, very in love.

Finally, after making sure she’s okay one more time, Georgie turns to her side and scoots closer to Melanie. “I’m moving my hand away,” she warns her, and then, “I’m going to press my forehead to yours,” and lastly, “Can I put my hand on your hip? Cool.”

Having gotten into position, Georgie begins to speak, leaning into the Scouse a little bit more because, as she’s learned, Melanie likes it a lot. “Speaking of distracting me… if you really wanted to do that, I have a few suggestions.”

“Oh!” Melanie practically squeaks. Georgie adores her. “Do you mean sex?”

“Yes. I was thinking maybe… you could ride me? If you’d like.”

Even in the dark, Georgie can sense Melanie’s eyebrows rising. “Well… yes, I would like, but… are you okay for it?”

“Hey now,” Georgie says, “just because we’re dating now doesn’t mean we can’t continue to have sex in un-ideal emotional circumstances.” Melanie huffs out a laugh, but Georgie still clarifies, “But yes, I feel good, and I think you’re wonderful, and this isn’t a shitty coping mechanism or anything. Promise.”

“Okay, then,” Melanie says, audibly smiling. “One distraction, coming right up.”

“Emphasis on come—“ Georgie begins, but is cut off rather pleasantly by Melanie’s mouth.

Georgie kisses Melanie back. As she does so, she feels her heart begin to race.

#tmahcweek #wtgfs #what the girlfriends #the magnus archives #tma #georgie barker #melanie king #magnuspod #fic

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sheeple · 4 years

Text

Real thing | 6: All dolled up

GIFS NOT MINE. THIS IS ALL FICTION. Genre(s): mafia!au / hacker!au Group(s): NCT Pairing(s): Qian Kun x fem!reader / Jung Jaehyun x fem!reader Summary: (Y/n), a college student who joined WayV ─ an international crime organization ─ for some extra cash as one of their hackers. But what happens when she gets mixed up in a lot more heavy stuff than only sitting behind a computer and disabling security cameras? Warning(s): Just mafia stuff / illegal things [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist]

I wake up a couple hours later of the front door closing. As I sit up, a blanket slides off my shoulders onto the ground.

Yangyang walks into the living room with a worried smile on his face. “Hey, how are you?” He takes place on the couch and brushes some hair out of my face.

“I had a panic attack”, I mutter hoarsely, my throat dry from sleeping and not drinking anything the whole day. “For how long did I sleep?”

Yangyang checks his watch. “It’s now almost half-past five. At what time did you get home? How did you even get home?”

I swing my legs off the couch and stretch, a loud groan escaping my lips as my shoulder blades pop. Yangyang grimaces and moves away.

I shuffle into the kitchen and as I grab a glass of water, I stop. “He was there.”

“Who?”, questions Yangyang as he walks into the kitchen, taking place on top of the countertop.

“Qian Kun. He came as a guest speaker to my first class of the day. Nothing really happened until it ended and Mr Li asked if I could walk Qian out.”

Yangyang takes a sharp breath. “And then? Did he say something?”

I nod and turn around, my eyes filling up with tears by just thinking about it. “He, Uhm...”, I lick my lips, “he wants me to be his date for some formal gala he has this weekend. Something about me being the only female he trusts.”

A scoff leaves Yangyang’s lips. “The audacity to ask you of such favour while he almost cut your throat not even a month ago.”

“Right!” I look at him and start to fill my glass. “I said that to him too. Of course not in that way, more subtle. But Qian being a big, bad mob boss, he pulled a reverse Uno card and started to yell at me how I have to obey every word he says.”

My hands start to shake again. Yangyang takes them in his over and pulls me closer, resting my head on his shoulder. “You don’t have to continue if you can’t...”

“He had the same look, YY. The same murderous, cold look from back in the basement. He towered over me and just... the feelings of fear came rushing back into my veins. It filled me up and just consumed me from the inside.”

At this point, tears roll down my cheeks and staining Yangyang’s sweater. He sighs deeply and strokes my hair, trying to comfort me.

“I am so sorry you had to... endure that again. You know what, that’s it. You’re gonna stop working for WayV.”

I sniff, wiping away my tears and shake my head. “I can’t... YY, I’m too deep in right now. And besides, it’s not like he would let me walk freely with all this dirt on WayV.”

Yangyang nods, thinking deeply. “Maybe making a deal with Qian is the best option. Do it this weekend, when you two have a moment alone. Say you want out after you’re done with spying on those Korean scum.”

I chew on my bottom lip. “You think he will agree?”

“To be honest, I don’t know. Qian is an unexplainable man, you never know how he will react. But trying can’t be wrong. When even is that party?”

I shrug while grabbing my phone from my backpack by the door. “He would text me about it.” I unlock my phone and go to messages. And at the top, I see a message from an unknown number. Him.

Next day I, while I put my jacket in my locker, I see Jaehyun approach me with a smile on his face.

“Hey, how are you? Feeling a bit better?” He leans against the wall of lockers as he folds his arms in front of him.

“Yeah. Thank you for your help yesterday.” I close the door and turn towards him. “Let me repay you.”

The smile falls slightly off his face and he shakes his head. “No... you don’t have to. Every decent human would help you at that moment.”

Now it’s my turn to shake my head. “Not everybody, believe me. How about lunch today?”

This isn’t even about the whole spying thing, I just want to thank him for taking care of me.

Jaehyun glances over my shoulder and his eyes harden. I turn slightly around and see Doyoung standing at the end of the hallway with his arms folded over each other, a stern look on his face.

“I can’t... sorry.” He pushes himself off the wall and I frown. Jaehyun gives me a slight smile before rushing towards his friend.

I turn around and catch Doyoung’s eyes. He glares at me and I raise my eyebrows. He wouldn’t be on to me, right?

To my dismay, Saturday rolled around quicker than I thought and I drag my tired body out of my bed around eleven, not having the motivation to get out of my bed earlier.

Yangyang left the house to hang out with some classmates so I have the whole apartment for my own.

So I decide to make sure I at least look presentable for tonight. And by presentable, I mean making sure my legs are hair-free, my skin somewhat cleaner, and my hair clean.

Just after I put on my boots, my phone chimes. I grab it and frown. A text from Qian.

He wouldn’t be... picking me up, right? Well, he did say ‘I’.

I fly down the stairs ─ as gracefully you can do that in heeled boots ─ walking out my building. And lo and behold, there’s he, leaning against his expensive black sports car with a bored look on his face while looking around.

He looks up as he hears the door slam closed after me and straightens up. Qian’s eyes study me up and down. “Let’s go”, he says with a sigh and turns around, walking towards the driver’s side.

I quickly walk towards the co-driver's side and slide onto the smooth leather.

The inside of the car is for sure just as expensive as my apartment. State of the art dashboard and touch screen, matt black detailing, and dark, smooth leather seating.

“A team of stylists are waiting for you. They will make sure you look... presentable for tonight.” Qian glances towards me as he speeds off into the busy Hong Kong traffic.

I hum, playing with the hem of my sleeves as I nervously watch out the window.

Now’s not the time to ask about my departure, he doesn’t seem in a good mood. To be fair, he never does. Maybe tonight. Yeah, after the party.

Thanks to his quick drive style, we arrive at a skyscraper and he leads me in the building, towards the elevator.

He stands with his hands in the pockets of his dress plants while we wait for the elevator to reach the first floor.

“You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me, I’m not going to hurt you.” Qian’s voice is in comparison to Wednesday and just a few minutes back, softer. Almost normal.

I look up to him and when our eyes meet, I expect to meet the same cold ones he always has. But this time, I am greeted with a pair of soft brown orbs. They look... human?

My feet move on their own and I move one small step away from him.

The elevator doors finally open and we get in, raising to the top. Of course, Qian would own the penthouse. Crime bosses always own a penthouse or lavish mansion.

As soon I set one step into the entrance, I get whisked away by a pair of ladies dressed in all black and put in a chair in front of a mirror in a bathroom. A wide arrangement of make-up lay in front of me as someone else rides in a rack with ten or more dresses on it.

As my whole appearance from hair to nails and my face get all dolled up, one of the stylists starts to converse with me.

“So, what dress do you like?”, she questions and rides the rack so it’s in my vision. My eyes scan the many colours and it falls on a slither of wine red.

“May I see that one, the dark red one, please.” I point towards the dress and the stylist takes it off the rack, holding it out for me to see.

The dress has spaghetti straps and a triangle top, a high split at the right side that almost reaches the waistline.

I nod with a smile. “Yes, that’s the one.”

After my hair and make-up are done, I get up from the chair and take the dress with me to a corner of the bathroom that’s equipped like a dressing room.

I slide quickly out of my normal clothes and into the beautiful red dress. I nervously walk from behind the curtains holding up the top. “Can someone zip me up?”, I question while turning around.

“I’ll do it”, says the deep voice of Qian behind me and the muscles in my back tense up. He strides towards me and places a hand on small of my back and the other he pushes my curled hair over my shoulder, reaching for the zipper.

I hold my breath as he zips up the zipper, the places where his fingers touch my skin burn.

After what feels for eternity he’s finally done and takes a step back, letting the stylists fix up my hair and make-up.

“I’ll wait for you in the entrance hall”, says Qian before I hear a door close. I let out a big sigh of relieve and close my eyes so they can redo my eyeshadow.

“The dress is a bit too long right now. But with the right pair of heels, it’s perfect”, says the same stylist from earlier and grabs a pair of black high heels from the rack and slides them on my feet.

I turn around to look in the mirror. And indeed, with the right pair of heels, the dress is perfect. I glide my hands down the curves and discover that there are pockets in it.

I excitedly turn towards the stylists and smile. “It has pockets, oh my god.” A happy chuckle leaves my lips, the first in a couple of days. Who knew that pockets in a dress could bring me such happiness.

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writingforyourpleasure · 4 years

Text

ON THE ROAD AGAIN

Characters: GERARD WAY x Reader

Author’s note: There’s some cursing but nothing too much to worry about. I’m considering doing a part 2 but I’m not sure yet. Tell me if you’ll be interested ?

Word Count: 2k225

1. The name’s Y/N

You walk into the empty parking lot , looking back at your friend and bandmate Dex , who is just getting out of your tour bus. To say that you were nervous was the least, but you wanted to look cool and relax or else it would be extremely awkward . When your friend finally arrived beside you, you started walking towards the empty venue , quickly followed by the three crew member, Max your sound engineer ,Billy and Ames both your bus drivers and stage managers.

This morning , the air was chill and you were already cursing to yourself not to had dressed yourself warmer. You were just wearing a camo pant with a large white t-shirt and your leather jacket with your ranger’s boots. You lightened up a smoke hoping to get warmer at the nauseous smell, Dex threw you a disapproving glance .

The arena wasn’t open just yet, so you waited .

“First time we’re gonna play in an arena huh?” asked Ames .

Ames was Indian , had short black hair and dark eyes which he almost always narrowed looking pretty distant and angry , but as soon as you get to know him he was very kind and funny. He was pretty tall (6 feet tall) . He’s been around for three years now . Helping packing, and driving the bus , he was the one to introduce you to Billy, his roommate, one year ago. Ames was a sweetheart always willing to help , he truly was part of you band now.

“Yeah pretty scary I have to admit . So scared I’m gonna screw up during the show.” Explained Dex fingering his blue hoodie nervously.

Dex was always pretty nervous about anything so it wasn’t a surprise to you. Dex drunked a lot of coffee , he hated any kind of smoke . You and Dex knew each other since you were 10 . You never were the one to discuss with people in elementary school ,always more attracted to drawing to something, than talk about a new Barbie with the girls of your class and boys were pricks so you preferred to be left alone , day dreaming alone. It’s not that you weren’t talkative and social , you were a lot in fact . But you didn’t find anyone worth having a discussion with . You though they were all kinda assholes to be honest . Than Dex arrived at your school they were from Ireland . Everyone in your class started to befriend them , but you were their best friend . In fact you even had a crush on them at the time. They were an explosion of colors and were pretty fun to be around , and most important, not an asshole . They confide you that they were non binary during the summer before the start of high school. Dex was short and almost just skin and flesh . with a flamboyant white hair and hazel eyes. Today they were wearing their favorite hoodie which was more a plaid than an hoodie to be honest, some vans and a destroyed red wine jean .

You took a long drag of your cigarette not wanting to participate in the discussion. You had already so much on your mind , you didn’t want to show it to the guys.

“You screwing up ? Nah can’t happen men . Never had since I’m here at least .” Said Billy trying his best to reassure your bandmate , patting them on the right shoulder . Billy and Dex were best friends since he tagged along after one of our show back to one year ago. Billy was also Irish , but more like a ‘stereotypical’ Irish than Dex . He was more pale than the snow itself , had sweet freckles all over his face and body , you knew it because you couldn’t not remark the gentles dots all over his arms whenever he was packing your instrument in his metal merch T-shirt, he had long natural wave ginger hair, eyebrows and beard . He was much more massive than Ames who looked like a sixteen years old . He could be quite frightening when you jut looked at his appearance unlike Ames who looked like a cinnamon roll but had this angry vibe whenever he went , Billy on his side was the most kind and attentive guy you had ever met . Billy was tall, much more taller than anyone you knew.

“It’s because you’re around since only 1 year mate !” Laughed Ames , making me smirk along .

Max was listening without really doing it, more worried about freezing his ass off in the empty parking lot than to engage with the group. Max was an okay guy. Not one of the most talkative, except for when he had a drink or two. Max was from England just like you. He was quite pale too . He had brown straight hair , a little peach fuzz, couldn’t seemed to grow a bear . Max had little ring earrings and transparent olive glasses , he often wore grey beanies . He was pretty short and was the oldest of your little group. He was working for you since four years already, you knew him from this little bar where you used to perform at your debut .

As you were lost in your thoughts two other tour bus pulled up in the parking lot, soon followed by a third.

“Ha ! Finally !” sighed Max.

You took a long drag of your cigarette , eyeing closely for the crew to come out of it .

A large group of people were descending from it, laughing between them . They seemed a whole lot warmer than you, dressed appropriately in coats and beanies . They all looked older than the four of you, most of them probably stage manager and crew members. A guy came up running to you, he looked older than the group of guys chatting in front of their buses and a little more ‘polished’ in way.

“Hi! You must be Violent Gasoline ? I’m Damien, the tour manager. » The guy presented himself , extending his left hand.

You gave a quick nod in agreement, your smoke still stuck between your lips. Max extended his own hand to the guy activating his ‘business mode’ on.

“Nice to meet you in person Damien. My name’s Max I’m the sound engineer and I guess you could also say the tour manager. This is Billy and Ames , our stage crew and finally Dex and Y/N from Violent Gasoline!”

You jumped on your foots trying to warm up yourself , while everyone shook Damien’s hand. Yours were put away in your pant pockets too cold to even move .

“So I have called the arena crew and they’re supposed to open the private gate any minute now.” Warned Damien , giving us an apologizing look . “I hope you didn’t wait for too long …”

“No, it’s okay mate .” Said Billy lying , not wanting to make him feel responsible of anything.

“By the way, those are our staff/crew members” told us Damien , pointing at the crew next to the buses. “The guys should be here in an hour they went to have breakfast, before starting the day. Did you had any?”

“Yeah just before we arrived , in the tour bus.” Smiled Dex . They did , you just had coffee .

Than a guy dressed entirely in black from head to toe opened to us , you dumped your cigarette on the cold pavement , soon enough the crew joined you and you all went inside . You gladly welcomed the warmth of the space eating you up, relaxing a little. Dex seemed to have regained some colors on their side , while you felt comfortable enough to get your hands out of your pockets. As you were the one being here first you started soundcheck pretty early , adjusting lights and balance check . You placed yourself behind your drums as soon as Ames and Billy installed your kit. You were now playing since three hours and had removed two of your songs off your song list to replaced them by news songs from your next album in writing . Dex had some difficulties with the solo bass line from one of your new song .

“Dex, you know what , just let’s not do this one . We’ll replace it with ‘Do ré mi’ as usual ”You shouted to your bandmate, referring to your Nirvana cover, you used to finish every gig with this one. “We’re almost done anyway.”

“Y/N , no way, I’m not-“ Dex started turning to look at you , before being cut in the middle of their sentence by a loud ‘bang’ from a door closing .

Soon followed by loud chatting and laughter from a group of guys entering the venue from the left side in front of the stage. Quickly Damien arrived ruining up to them , hushing directly at them pointing the stage to them. Everything went silent.

“Awkward…” You whispered to yourself as no one moved .

“Sorry , we didn’t mean to be rude .” Excused one of the guys with blond hair. They all went to sit in the arena crowd.

You stand up from your kit , you went for your bottle of water. “ It’s okay, we were done anyway.” You took a sip at the bottle , before catching Dex looking frustrated over you not letting them redo his solo for the one hundred and fiftieth time of the day. They’ll get over it.

You left the stage , Dex jogging up to you trying to catch up their breath before proposing to grab a bite in your dressing-room for launch with Max, Ames and Billy . You were starving since you didn’t ate this morning. Billy and Ames had gone catch the rest of yesterday dinner in your bus which consisted to a pasta salad, with orange juice and clementines for dessert . Max was in the hallway talking on the phone with your label. Once you finished your plate you brought back to your bus the dishes and started cleaning it up, you were tired of your rehearsal so you went to your bunk to get some sleep setting your alarm to five pm and took a well deserved nap.

‘Prey for me’ from The fever 333 echoed into the room waking you up , you groan not really wanting to wake up from bed at this point. With a long sigh you stopped your phone from doing any more sounds, and got up. Once dressed you searched your leather jacket at the research of your pack of cigarettes.

“Where the fu-“

“Here” Ames was handing to you your pack of cigarette looking as you had just woken him up from his own nap on your couch . You jumped , taken by surprised by his presence but soon regain posture reaching for your cigarettes. Ames often borrowed some of yours paying you back later on so you weren’t even surprised.

“Where are the guys ?” You asked before he got back to his nap .

“Still hanging out in your lodge .” He said before resting his face on the pillow he found and closing his eyes , almost already snoring .

You got out welcomed by the cold from outside , winter was a pain in the ass. You reached for a cigarette before lightening it up and taking a long drag from it . By the time you crossed all the parking lot to the arena your smoke was long gone. Once inside you headed straight to your lodge. Before opening the door the room, you heard laughter coming from inside.

“Hey guys, what’s the joke ?” You said opening the door with a smirk.

Suddenly six eyes land on you. What was happening …? ‘Awkward’ you murmured yet again . On the red velvet sofa was seated three guys from earlier, on the couch next to them was slumped Billy, Dex and the blonde from earlier.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt guys !” you said trying to play it cool with a sly smirk on your face.

“No haha don’t worry dude ! They’re My Chemical Romance!” Stated Billy lifting up his beer to prove his point . The blonde stood up welcoming you by kissing your cheeks .

“Hi my name’s Mikey ! I’m the bass player , nice to meet you!” You gave a nod

“The name’s Y/N .” You said debating over whether to or not to kiss the other members. The browned haired boy with a lot of tattoos decided to help you out by lifting himself up to welcomed you.

“Hey , Frank. I’m the guitarist.” He said calmly handing out his hand for you to shake. Once done he returned on right side of the couch, while the guy on the left side got up to kiss both of your cheeks.

“Ray ! Also guitarist.” He had a sincere smile . Then the last one got up, he had dark hair, hazel eyes, red make up and was pretty pale.

“I’m Gerard , the lead singer” He said shaking your hand. You had to admit he was good looking, they all were to be honest.

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