dahliacrane

[dahliacrane]

ain't what you want, it's what you know just happy in the shoes you're wearin'

[dahliacrane]

“It is with passion, courage of conviction, and strong sense of self that we take our next steps into the world.”

Legally Blonde (2001) dir. Robert Luketic

[dahliacrane]

open starter, sunrise of the next day after the infamous meeting

most of them had not particularly been friends of hers. but nearly all of them were going, she hadn’t hated them. and she wished for their safety. she knew more of the armed soldiers that were going than she did of the council members. her mind briefly went to the young boys that were on their way. the ironborn were fierce, fearless. they fought as if they had nothing to lose. she worried about the mothers who would have to hear about their sons’. hopefully not in the gruesome detail that their deaths would likely contain. crushed skulls. blood pouring where it shouldn’t. fires set. she had seen a lot come back from the battlefield over her years with lord hightower. so much pain, so much blood.

at least this time she was staying back. not in the camp. not having to worry about whether or not she would die each night. no, she had to sit back. wait. she felt useless. tears stung at her eyes and she grabbed the gray shawl from over her refined curls to dab them away. dahlia held no loyalty to the ironborn. hardly knew them. all the ones that she did know, weren’t the ones up in pyke.

garland was staying behind.

who was she crying for?

who?

[dahliacrane]

@garlandhightower

[dahliacrane]

Send me a ♔ + your character’s name and I will make a moodboard of our characters’ relationship

@gareth-hightower | @alyse-dondarrion

[dahliacrane]

@wcrdsarewind

GOSSIP GIRL 2021 1.08, “Posts on a Scandal”

[dahliacrane]

new rules, dua lipa

[dahliacrane]

[dahliacrane]

@visxionaries

BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER (1997) | 4×09 something blue

[dahliacrane]

where: the reach quarters who: @lucreziasredwyne​

if it had been merely a couple of months ago, dahlia would have been able to walk through the room unnoticed. a servant that merely blended into the walls, as if they were all just bricks proving to be a barrier between the gilded nobles and the real world. now, she had the same people she worked beside paying respects to her and dahlia’s stomach turned over each time. the reality of the situation had not settled on her still. the encounters with her father were still strange, but he was kind enough to her. dahlia wondered how long that would last till he realized just what sort of person she was. the product of her late mother. elayne, according to her father, had told him that dahlia was being raised and cared for in a full house, with a man she considered father and comfortably. but that was only one side, and dahlia knew well enough in her nearly 28 namedays, there was the two sides to the story and then the truth somewhere in the center.

although dahlia was hardly in the position to say anything about honesty.

hands ran through the pale blue fabric of her gown, still feeling the kisses from the other day’s lingering on the edges, even on the scar tissue. pale eyes flicked from place to place, face to face, as she tried to figure her way around. her father had sent her to lady lucrezia redwyne, whom dahlia only knew as garland’s cousin, to ‘assist’ her in ‘learning the ways.’ the whole thing made her feel a pit in her stomach. lucrezia had to have been at the wedding, surely would recognize her. the embarrassment all around was unbefitting. dahlia felt her inner monologue of disdain parading through her mind as she tried to find the fucking room.

“where the fuck in seven hells is this place,” she muttered as she popped her head into the nearest room. at least they were not at highgarden. then, the new lady crane would have been haunted by chairs that dredged up memories unseen. a groan later and she finally gave up and just picked a door to open, sighing in relief and terror as she saw familiar brunette curls cascading over a (admittedly) fine figure. “oh thank seven fucks,” dahlia breathed before remembering she had to bow. right? did she still bow to the mistress of....ships? her beloved’s cousin? “i apologize, m’lady, ah.” she bowed anyway, partially out of habit. “i do not know if you remember, but i am dahlia flow--crane. i offer sincerest apologies for my tardiness.” a few beats later and dahlia straightened herself up, ruffling the untamed curls that flanked her head. 

she was already off to the worst start. she was trying, despite everything in her bones telling her not to. this woman did not like her kind, she had heard that much. and the lady crane had spent years despising anything resembling people like lady redwyne. dahlia touched the grey shawl she could not seem to separate from herself--her one sense of security through this crisis--as the inevitable nerve-fueled talking began.

“wow, fuck, you really are that pretty. i mean, i am sure you know that but, ah, it’s been awhile since i last saw you. and you were pretty then, too, of course, it’s just--i am going to start talking now. right. apologies.”

dahlia already knew she had fucked it up.

[dahliacrane]

@wcrdsarewind

[dahliacrane]

all that i keep thinking throughout this whole flight is it could take my whole damn life to make this right this splintered mast i'm holding on won't save me long because i know fine well that what i did was wrong

tumbleton, 139ac. @garlandhightower

[dahliacrane]

Freya Mavor as Daria Greenock in Industry 1.01 ‘Induction’

[dahliacrane]

@lucreziasredwyne

Serena and Blair <33

[dahliacrane]

garlandhightower​:

though his face said he was unamused, there was a glitter to his eyes as she spoke of their old habits. touching her even in a clinical sense to better see her face was a risk he had not calculated, how it would remind him of the softness of her skin and how he would hold it to bring her in for kisses once upon a time. he could almost thank the gods her lip was too wounded to kiss without causing her pain, as it deterred him from listening to the primate that was his id. but it didn’t stop the memories. how he couldn’t stop the smile he’d get after kissing her, how it felt to hold her. gods he was such a lost cause. “i’ll scold you until you take better care of yourself, even if i must drop your favorite part of being in so-called trouble with me.” his tone was serious, because he did want dahlia to take care of herself. if he could not personally assure her health and wellbeing, he was damned if he was going to not at least remind her to take good care of herself. and that did include letting people around her that didn’t hurt her and took care of her. “and if i remember right, you were the tease.” he could even recall examples, very specific examples that made the man turn to mush in her hands. but he was minding himself, no matter how the dizzying nostalgia made him warm all over.

his worries about her being with raiders and pirates did not abate, even with the assurances that the king and her people treated her well. the pet names made sparks in his gut, the sound of them long forgotten but not the feeling of being called them. he wanted to throw himself into the sea for all of it, because he did hate how dahlia still knew how to get to him. his face showed his displeased feelings through a slight pout and narrowed eyes, though they were gone with a blink when she continued, taking his hands in hers with no fight from him. frog curled up around his mistress, looking between his parents as they talked. she had been right, garland had no love for her mother, but it was still someone she cared for. so he kept his tongue still, though his reactions were open and easily read. his fingers closed around hers, holding her hands to gently show his support. there was a brief thought of ‘finally’, as he always thought she deserved better than straw mattresses in little rooms in little houses with a mother that grew more and more bitter each day. gods he hated that woman.

garland did his best to not think about how once he’d been willing to give her a life similar to what her father was offering.

“first off… i’m very happy for you, dahlia. you deserve to have a good life, and if you decide to go to red lake, you will hear no complaints from me.“ the lord of the hightower sighed and brought her hands to his lips, kissing individual knuckles on her small delicate hand for a moment. “i could never hate you. i may still be a bit upset half my gardens went up in flames and i got cups thrown at me instead of us talking it out like adults… but i do not hate you.“ his words hung there, half a thought uttered and the other half hidden deep under armor he was clinging to. “do you want to go to red lake and be lady crane? it’s a smaller house, even if it’s descended from garth greenhand. probably not a lot of expectations. you’ll be able to relax for once.“

.

she looked back at frog’s panting face to be met with the dog’s signature look of upward ears and tilted head as he looked on at the two people who raised him. together. while it was difficult all those years to accept that she would never carry her sweet giant’s children, never feel the kicks of his blood in her womb, at least they had frog. she had frog. even in her darkest days, she had him. but right now, for this intimate, small moment, she had garland back as she knew him. dahlia took in his words and smiled gently to herself before turning her head back to him.

when he raised her hands to his lips, she felt a brief embarrassment at the state that they were in. they were thin and worn, calluses were thick on her fingertips. not at all the lady’s hands they should be. though, he never seemed bothered and it made her heart melt into the deepest spaces of her core. her soul, whatever was left of it, anyway. since tumbleton, it truly felt as if her soul had been fractured, left on that battlefield with his hopes and dreams. dahlia never got the chance, and she knew, reluctantly, that she never would have. dahlia had spent many nights spanning months since that day ruminating over what she would have changed, what she would have said, what she would have done. some desperate attempt to change the past.

but it was gone, and this broken, tired, stressed man was still taking the time to care for her. in his own ways. the emotional surge was too much for her already and the tears stung at her eyes.

“no complaints at all?” she responded before pulling his hands onto either side of her, being mindful of his movements to make sure his leg was not bothering him before eyes flicked toward his. “i know nothing of gardening, otherwise i would repair them myself as reparation, and i should have never done that to you, ever. you did not deserve that,” she mumbled as her body and the nostalgia took over and her arms slinked around his neck. “i would go, yes. i would have better access to highgarden and--keep close to you. i never stopped loving you, garland. i never will. but i will love you from afar, or up close.” her lips found his neck for a brief kiss before she began to retreat back. “whatever would make you happy. as always.”

“forever.”

[dahliacrane]

who: @rhydianmormont​ where: main dance floor, dornish ball

balls were still a foreign concept to her, in a way this was her first official one and the lady felt strange. the facades that conclave around them seemed more like a cage full of unaware birds and it was nearly suffocating. how they could be so content in a structure that--how she was going to be so content in the structure that she found herself. dahlia did what she knew best, she drank and kept close to those she was most familiar with. rhydian, lord mormont, the actual bear of a man offered her so much more than just shallow companionship. there was a level of consistency that he provided that made her feel that, no matter what she did, he would be in her corner. as she would be in his, no inquiries necessary.

he also was not bad on the eyes either. she had traced her tongue on every scar that frayed his tanned skin, every curve of muscle. there was some love behind each touch, but it was not the same as the love that she carried for a particular hightower lord. this was something different, but just as genuine all the same. grabbing her goblet in one hand and beaded dress in the other, flanked with a pattern of beaded flowers and cranes on cream silk, she fumbled her way back to the giant that accompanied her. very careful to avoid any sighting by her former lover, or current lovers. or anyone.

“rhydian, fuck me,” she stammered between shaken knees, laughing and looking up at him. her pale eyes meeting his dark eyes brought a lasting smile to her face, flushed with drink. “not literally, but fuck me as in ‘fuck me, i lost a shoe so i threw the other.’ but please literally fuck me later, though. can i still say that? hm-” she took a drink and leaned her head into his chest. “how are you?”

[dahliacrane]

ofgoldengrove​:

location: the home of distant lights, dorne ;; @dahliaflcwers​

the lord of goldengrove wasn’t quite sure how he had made his way to the home of distant lights, but he certainly didn’t regret it. his more primal nature had kicked in this evening, and while he did not indulge himself too greatly to sleep with another just yet, he certainly was having his fun. lifting goblet to lips, he took a long sip of his dornish red, savoring the flavor as he watched the famous whore, kamali, put on quite the show for the rest of the guests bustling about. dorne was quite the interesting place, and he could see himself staying here on longer terms, but perhaps reality would find him again and despite his best efforts, the reach was his home. he wasn’t quite sure what that would look like or when it would be, but the rowan lord was certain life would find him back there.

until then, he would savor this new reality of his. one where he didn’t have to be the lord of goldengrove, the hand of the king, the widower, instead he could be the dark, handsome stranger in the night. it was a facade he put on to tuck away the aching pain he felt welling in his chest. a pain that dulled only slightly with wine and women. a particular woman, however, caught his interest, and he recognized the blonde locks of dahlia flowers nearby. he finished the goblet quickly and made his way over to her, dark orbs intensely fixed upon her like a predator on it’s prey. he placed a hand on her arm, gently to not startle her. “fancy seeing you here.” he teased.

the dim shadows of the home of distant lights brought some comfort to the grueling days in the heat and the constant stream of thoughts that seemed to wreck in her brain. the comfort that being around whores brought seemed to ease the chaotic chatter within, just the familiarity. even some familiar faces. the war had many people displaced, before and after, so it was always interesting to see where old acquaintances had ended up.

she found herself talking about a potential commission as a raven-haired beautiful woman admired the black fabric that traced along her exposed waist. “of course, i would love to help out sometime, one moment--” she stammered drunkenly, holding up a finger to ask the woman to wait for her as she moved to find a scrap of parchment. as she moved through the crowd, dahlia found herself distracted by the entertainment for a moment. the queerness in her eyes transfixed before she turned to the man who touched her.

“my lord, more so fancy seeing you here,” she smiled before eyes fell to look at him, her lip curling over the bottom of her teeth. he was quite handsome, as all of the reach lords seemed to be. something about this one though, drew her fancy when she wanted some reason to feel something, then hate herself later for it. maybe that was mutual. she knew about his current...situation and that it was not on a good trajectory, then again, neither was she. still...“have you been serviced tonight or am i fortunate enough to catch your eye early on enough to get...a taste?”