#dream man how many times do i have to say it

[babyleostuff]

⸻ first date with performance unit

[ 🍵 ] how they would spoil their partner, what they would be like taking them out for the first time & what they would plan to make them feel special

jun

place: cat/dog cafe

what they would do to make you feel special: he’d have your coffee/tea order + favourite baked goods memorised (to the point where if they didn’t have what you’d usually order, jun would know what you’d take instead)

what they would be like taking you out: jun would be the epitome of sweet and precious, because mans wouldn't be able to stop smiling. seriously, the grin he'd have on his face would be low-key concerning because how can someone smile for that long, but at the same time, he'd make you feel so at peace and comfy with his gentle persona

“they are so us,” jun giggled and pointed at two cats trying to claw each other's eyes out.��

you shook your head and took a sip from your cup. if it was anyone else you’d start wondering if they even liked you, because comparing you to a rather aggressive cat was not on your top 10 compliments list, nor was it something you’d like to hear on a first date.  

but the boy in front of you was far from “anyone else”.

“you’re feisty,” jun pointed at the black cat, “just like her.” 

before you could think through what you were about to say next, you blurted out, “well, at least now we know who’ll wear the pants in our relationship.” 

it was safe to say that jun looked like an angry tomato for the rest of the date.

hoshi

place: laser tag

what they would do to make you feel special:  if you’d end up on opposite teams, soonyoung would do anything to let your team win (he’d be so proud in thinking he was being sooo sneaky about it) because seeing you happy is so much better than winning (you’re the only exception though, anyone else - the fight is on)

what they would be like taking you out:  this man is too unpredictable to know for sure how he’d act, but generally speaking it could go either two ways: 1 - soonyoung would be filled with so much energy, beaming with happiness and just so much affection for you that you’d have a hard time knowing what he’d even be on about (lovingly), 2 - he’d turn into a stressed little guy that just wouldn’t be able to believe that he’s on a date with you??? you gorgeous creature said yes to go out with him??? no one pinch him, because if it’s still a dream he doesn’t want to wake up. this version of him would be quite quiet, but in a soonyoung way quiet

“stop!” you laughed, quickly looking back to see if hoshi was still running after you. 

and running he was. more like charging at you at full speed, to be honest, with a fake gun in his hand and devilish grin on his face. 

“you’re not going to get away this time!” he yelled back, getting closer to you with each step. and there was no way you’d outrun him, na-ah. 

“it’s not how you play this game,” you said and bursted out in a fit of laughter, as soonyoung wrapped his strong arms around your frame, engulfing you in a sweaty hug. 

“i don’t care,” he giggled, pulling you closer. “the game is over for me anyway, now that i’ve got you”. 

mingaho

place: painting class

what they would do to make you feel special: he’d be the best listener. i know that is the bare minimum, but at the same time the bare minimum is in hell so… yeah. you’ll never meet a better listener than hao, who could sit on the uncomfortable wooden chair, covered in paint and listen to you for ages

what they would be like taking you out: such a gentleman, to the point where you start wondering if it’s not a dream. gentle, funny, kind, understanding, charming - you could go on for forever trying to describe minghao. all of that said, though, hao would honestly be so so nervous, because come one… so many things could go wrong… and he seriously liked you. like really really liked you.

“how the hell did you manage to get your paints to look like that?” you pointed at hao’s palette that was full of pretty colours, unlike yours. unfortunately. 

“hm?” he mumbled and looked over at your station. you could see the smile forming on his gorgeous face, but since he was the textbook definition of a green flag, whatever you want to call it, he quickly composed himself and pointed at the paints in front of him. “just mix this and this.” 

“uh, yeah,” you huffed, “i did the same and mine looks like shit. literally.” 

this time he couldn’t help but laugh. “let me help, yeah?”

dino

place: a board game cafe

what they would do to make you feel special: he’d try his best to play all of your favorite board games, because one thing about chan - he sucks at understanding game rules (seriously, all of his brain cells would be sweating to understand the game). so it’d truly be heartwarming how this precious boy would try so hard to understand what would be going in front of him. 

what they would be like taking you out: stressed. and. nervous. as. fuck. he just doesn’t want to mess it up, okay? chan knows he’s handsome and pretty and funny and charming, BUT IT DOESN’T MATTER!!! all of his rational thinking flies out of the window whenever he’s around you, and “what were you saying, i was too busy staring at your beautiful eyes”. shakes like a leaf the whole time. 

you could clearly see a question mark forming above chan’s head, as you tried explaining the rules for the third time. usually, you’d be quite annoyed at the person for still not getting what you were saying, but he looked so adorable, with his big puppy eyes and all, that you had to stop yourself from cooing out loud. 

“i’m sorry,” chan said, looking down. “i’m just not the best at understanding games.” 

you leaned over the table and put your hand over his. his head whipped up so quickly you wondered whether he didn’t pull a muscle doing that. 

“it’s okay, channie,” you smiled at him. “we can play something else, y’know?” 

he shook his head, and scooted his chair to sit closer to you. “no, no. let’s try again. i promise i’ll get it this time”.

[phantom-dc]

Vivisection Deception

“Yes, dad. I will vacuum the living room. Yes, I will also do my homework. No, I won’t forget the Ecto-filter. Love you too, say hi to mom and Jazz for me, bye!”

Danny hung up the phone. Sitting back into the booth at the Nasty burger, he got back to his burger. Tucker took a big bite, before talking with his mouth still full:

“So, your parents and sister are all out of town for the whole weekend? They had no problem leaving you alone unsupervised?”

Sam looked at Tucker with disgust, warning him to empty his mouth first. Danny nodded, agreeing with Sam:

“Yeah! Jazz wanted to explore different universities for when she graduates, even though that’s still a few years away. Still, mom and dad agreed to drive her if they could combine it with a visit to a convention for the Occult. Pretty sure they’ll be the only “scientists” there again, but that’s not my problem. Mom decided that she I could stay home alone. A sign of trust, Jazz called it. Something about "improving through positive reinforcement", I guess.”

Sam finishes her salad, and looks jealous. Danny invites both her and Tucker over for a weekend of gaming and fast food, but both decline, to his surprise. Sam groans, frustrated:

“I would love a weekend with no parents! Mine are forcing me to this, rich people yacht party. Mom keeps saying I might find a nice boy there, so I know it will be a weekend full of mom trying to play matchmaker with snotty rich boys. YUCH!”

Tucker apologizes as well. His parents are taking him to visit his grandma this weekend. He hasn’t seen her in a while, so he can’t cancel it, either. Danny looks a bit sullen about that, but smiles through it:

“Guess I’ll have the weekend to myself then! Maybe I can actually get this book report for Mr. Lancer done… Or I can even play a bit of Doomed!”

Friday evening, Phantom is flying back home. He has just seen Sam & Tucker off at the airport, and was looking forward to a weekend of peace and quiet:

“Man, sometimes I just forget how rich Sam is! I didn’t know her family has a private jet-“

Suddenly his Ghost Sense goes off. Getting into a battle stance, Phantom looks around. He is just in time to dodge a pair of claws heading straight for him! Turning around and shooting an ectoblast, Phantom tries to figure out who the ghost is. When the ghost taunts him at becoming slower every day, Phantom recognizes his voice:

“Bertrand! I am SO not in the mood for you!”

Bertrand laughs, and says that he was hoping for that. He attacks Phantom again before flying off, taunting Phantom to chase him. After a few hours Phantom lost his trail, and heads home. De-transforming before going inside Fentonworks, Danny is annoyed he’ll have to deal with Bertrand, but at least Spectra wasn’t with him. She’s the real threat.

When Danny steps inside, he finds the house is a mess! There are cannisters with Ectoplasm throughout the house, and the temperature is set to near freezing. Confused and suspicious, Danny goes to the lab. There he finds the cause of the mess:

“Mom?? What are you doing home? Aren’t you supposed to be with Dad & Jazz on her University trip?”

Maddie turns to Danny and quickly puts a strange gasmask on him. She is wearing one as well, along with her safety goggles:

“Hello sweetie! Quick, put this mask on! The samples we managed to collect give of Ectoplasmic fumes, so you’ll have to keep wearing it in the house, ok?”

Danny follows her advice, and puts it on. He again asks her what she is doing home, when Jack enters the lab as well, also wearing a gasmask and his safety goggles. Danny thinks the fumes must be pretty dangerous if his dad is wearing the goggles. He usually forgets to put them on. Jack gives Danny a big hug that would cause many regular humans severe backpain:

“Son, you’re home! We were worried sick when your mother and I got home early and you weren't here. Jazz thought we were “hurting her chances” to get into the school of her dreams, so she sent us home.”

Danny rolls his eyes, knowing exactly what kind of antics his parents could get up to when left unsupervised. He asks Maddie what is up with all the cannisters in the living room. Maddie apologizes, while turning the heat down even further:

“We managed to find a way to extract even purer Ectoplasm from the Ghost Zone! We took so many samples we can’t even fit them in the lab, this will be great for our research! Oh, but I am sorry, sweetie. The samples need to stay very cold, so we can’t turn up the heat. If you need, I can get you more blankets?”

Danny sighs frustrated, not looking forward to a weekend of cold. He declines Maddie’s offer, instead opting to go to bed. It is very late after all. Which is when Jack blocks the way upstairs:

“Don’t think you can distract us that easily! Or did you honestly think we didn’t notice?”

Danny is confused, but before he can answer Maddie interrupts him:

“That’s right, it IS late! In fact, it’s 2 hours past your curfew! Now why do you keep doing this, Danny? We’re not asking much of you, only that you come home at a reasonable time! Just because we weren’t supposed to be home yet, doesn’t mean you can stay out until who knows when! You are grounded, young man! You’re not allowed out this weekend, and hand over your phone!”

Danny tries to protest, but it’s in vain. Handing over his phone, he heads to bed, dejected. As he lies in bed, freezing, he wonders if things would be easier if he could just tell them what he was doing. Judging from that time with Freakshow and the Reality Gauntlet they would accept him, right? If they knew he was Phantom he could just tell them he was hunting Ghosts…

Saturday turns out to be the worst. Danny is woken up forcefully by his dad, who tells him he isn’t allowed to sleep in as long as he is grounded. Sleepily, Danny goes downstairs, a blanket around him and that stupid gasmask on his face. He asks Maddie how he is supposed to eat breakfast with that thing on. Maddie seems to think for a bit, and says that he is right. She will allow him to go out to get himself something to eat.

Danny quickly races upstairs, a bit confused about that break of curfew but not wanting to lose the chance to get out off the house. After getting dressed Jack tells him to get home back after immediately, or else he’ll be worse then grounded! That was a few hours ago. Cursing his bad luck, Danny races home:

“Please, please, PLEASE be too busy in the lab to notice I’m late! Of course the Ghosts also decide to ruin my weekend! First Ember doing an impromptu concert at the Nasty Burger, which means I can’t get breakfast. Then Johnny & Kitty are fighting it out at the food court in the mall, so I can’t get lunch either! If mom & dad send me home without dinner…”

De-transforming and entering Fentonworks, Danny looks around. The living room is still a mess of cannisters and the place is freezing, but he doesn’t see his parents. That means he might be able to bluff he was home for a while and they didn’t notice. If he can just get his chores done before they come upstairs…

“DANNY! COME DOWN TO THE LAB, NOW!”

Hearing that, Danny groans. This weekend is going from bad to worse! Putting on a gasmask, he heads to the lab. There he finds Jack & Maddie preparing a table with a big drill attached to it. Danny lies that he going to do his chores quickly while they are still busy, and empties the Fenton Thermos into the Ghost Zone without them noticing. When he turns around, he is not prepared for what happens.

The next moment he is trapped in a ghost-proof net, shot from a Fenton Net-bazooka. Confused, Danny asks what is happening, but receives no answer. Instead, Jack electrifies the net, causing Danny to instinctively transform into Phantom to protect himself, before passing out from the pain.

When he comes too, he is in hell. His parents saw him transform outside on new camera’s that Danny didn’t know off, and denounced him, both as a human being and as a son. They see his act of releasing the Ghosts back into the Zone as a sign that he too is evil. Danny is cuffed to an examination table and his powers are restrained. He is truly trapped as Maddie makes the first incision. Hours pass and Danny wonders how he can still be alive and conscious. He wishes he wasn’t. He didn’t know what was worse, the pain or the constant venom coming from his parents mouths, calling him all sort of horrible things. They must truly hate him. Danny, now terrified of every move his parents make, can only think of one thing:

Escape.

He must get out of here or they’ll kill him for good! He needs to get as far away from here as possible! For once, it seemed his Fenton Luck decided to show mercy. When they reached his Core, Jack had grabbed a remote. Shouting with a sick glee that he had the drill ready for this, he pushed a big red button. Maddie looked up, shouting that was the wrong remote, but it was already done.

With a loud noise, the cuffs popped open and Danny was free! Not thinking for a second, he shot into the roof, out of Fentonworks and towards the horizon. He need to get out of there! He’s never looking back!

Inside the lab, Jack & Maddie look at the spot Phantom fled through the ceiling. Suddenly Maddie begins to laugh:

“HAHAHAHA!!! It worked! That was absolutely delicious! He’ll be miserable for the rest of his life!”

Taking off the gasmask and goggles, ‘Maddie’ reveals herself to be Spectra in disguise! Next to her, ‘Jack’ morphs back into Bertrand.

“A brilliant plan, truly! Not only are we rid of that little Freak, but the misery of his little friends will be a great dessert!”

Spectra takes out Danny’s phone, seeing several missed calls from the real Jack & Maddie. Throwing it on the Ectoplasm and blood covered table, she decides to go celebrate. Heading into the Ghost Zone to get Ember and Kitty to repay the favor, neither Spectra not Bertrand notice the Portals Ectofilter beeping dangerously, since they had inadvertently prevented Danny from replacing it.

Outside, the Fenton RV rolls up. Jack, Maddie and Jazz are worried sick since Danny isn’t answering his phone. Jack is about to open the car door when the Portal explodes, taking Fentonworks with it. Months later the Fentons still blame themselves for leaving their son home alone. Police reports will later say that the only casualty is Danny Fenton.

Several states away, homeless boy Danny Nightingale attracts the attention of several heroes and villains alike…

[absurdthirst]

A Mafia Marriage {Mafia!Oberyn Martell x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16k

Warnings: Modern AU, Mafia AU, arranged marriage, contract marriage, harsh feelings, cancer, verbal sparring, impetuousness, Oberyn is volatile, threats, violence, rough sex, harshness, dominant sex, unprotected sex, loss, death, grief, foursomes, wlw, mlm, oral (male and female receiving), group sex

Comments: Having worked for the notorious mafia family, the Martells, your mother is very sick and you are running out of hope. Until you are summoned by Doran Martell. He will pay for the best treatments and the finest doctors in exchange for one thing. Marrying his brother, Oberyn Martell.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Oberyn Martell MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The Martells are the most powerful family in the city of Dorne. The ability to ruin lives or enhance them with the power, control and wealth they have is immense. They control everything. Nothing happens in their city that they don’t know about and most would never dream of trying to cross the mafia family. The last time that happened, Elia Martell had been killed by the Lannisters and it had sparked a rivalry war that still causes tensions to this day. 

Loyalty means everything to them. Your mother has worked for them your entire life and because of that, you were exposed to things most were not. Living in Sunspear, the large looming tower that the Martell family had built as a symbol of their status. Now, that life is in jeopardy, your mother is sick and you have been summoned by Doran Martell to discuss her condition. 

“Come in, sweet one.” Doran ushers you in with a wave of his hand and you walk in. He gestures to the large chair on the opposite side of his desk and you sit down, wringing your hands together. “How is your mother?” He asks and you bite your lip, trying to stop yourself from crying. 

“She’s good. She’s - she’s not good.” You choke out, tears stinging in your eyes. “She’s- she’s really sick. Stage four breast cancer and we - we don’t have enough money to get her treatment. She has insurance but it’s not enough. They said they’d make her comfortable but we want to fight it.” You reveal, closing your eyes in pain.

Doran knew that the prognosis isn’t good, he’s spoken with her doctors and they believe that the best course of treatment was to keep her comfortable. She has less than six months to live. He taps his desk as he watches you, leaning forward to pull his handkerchief out of his breast pocket and offers it to you. “Then you must fight it.” He decides, knowing that it will be to his advantage to offer this to you. “Your mother has been a loyal member of our household for many years. We will cover the costs of her treatment and care. Hiring the best doctors and nurses.” He pauses. “If you will do me one favor.” Your eyes open, full of hope, ready to do anything and he delivers his demand. “You must marry Oberyn.”

You stare at him in shock for several moments before you laugh, your head shaking as you think about Oberyn Martell being married. The man is infamous for his liaisons with men and women across Dorne. He doesn’t want to settle down and you certainly don’t want to marry a man who can’t keep it in his pants for more than a day. “I don’t want - no. I don’t - why me? He is with Ellaria.”

“Ellaria has no interest in taming some of Oberyn’s….wilder proclivities.” Doran hums. “My brother is quick to fight, easily goaded and offended. You…you are sweet. Gentle.” He presses his finger tips together with his elbows on his desk. “You can temper that nature, I know you can.” You look doubtful, but he knows his brother and despite his insistence that he would never settle down, he would with you. “Marry my brother and your mother will have everything she needs and more. Hopefully to live a long and healthy life. If unsuccessful, you will have the security of being a Martell. Having our family to lean on.” 

You should say no. You should storm out and tell Doran you’d never marry his brother even if your life depended on it. But it’s not your life that depends on it. It’s your mother’s. You swallow harshly and nod, “fine. I’ll marry him. Does he - does he know?” You ask, curious if the man knows about this arrangement. Doran smiles, “he’s fully on board.”

****

“What the fuck are you thinking? Marrying me to that - to that mouse.” Oberyn growls at his brother when he storms into his office. Doran sighs and taps his fingers on his desk, “Oberyn…you need to calm down.”

“Absolutely not. I told you I was never marrying.” Oberyn reminds his brother, temper flashing in his dark eyes, making his swarthy complexion even deeper. The grey that is starting to thread through his hair doesn’t distract from his attractive, yet harsh, features and Oberyn still fights and fucks like a man half his age. Doran sighs. “As head of this family, I have the right to demand you marry, anyone I choose, remember?” He shrugs slightly. “I choose her and you will do it.”

“You want me to continue doing your dirty work? My dear brother, never getting his hands bloody. I do all the hard work. Killing who you order since you cannot. Yet you sit behind that desk and order me to marry a woman I don't want. She’s a mouse. She’s - she’s boring.” Oberyn growls and Doran shakes his head, “she will calm you. She will be good for you. If you do not marry her…I will disinherit you. No properties. No cars. No money. You’ll be out in the cold. You’re volatile. We cannot afford another war with the Lannisters, yet every day you take us closer to it.”

Oberyn hisses angrily at his brother, knowing that he could call his bluff, but the risk to his daughters would be too great. The Sand Snakes do not deserve to have their lives upended. “Marriage will not change me, brother.” He snorts, waving his hand dismissively. “Arrange the affair, the poor girl will be bored out of her mind as I continue to do exactly what I wish.” He turns around and strides from the room confidently as he gets the last word.

Doran shakes his head, knowing his brother is a hard nut to crack but he will try. He wants his brother to settle down before he takes over when Doran steps down. After the car accident, Doran ended up in a wheelchair and he knows he will not be able to lead the family when his body fails him.

****

“Don’t worry, mom.” Holding her hand, you rub the back of it gently, wondering if it’s just your imagination that her skin feels brittle. “Doran has agreed to pay for all the treatments.” You smile, hiding the anguish that you are feeling. This is for your mother, no price is too high. “You are going to have the finest doctors and nurses in Dorne treating you and you will be cured in no time.” Her weak smile is worth it. Reaching out with your other hand, you pull the covers up her body, knowing that she is cold and turning up the heat by another notch. She is cold all the time and luckily you don’t live in the north, Winterfel would be miserable for her. You squeeze her hand gently. “See? I told you that we shouldn’t give up.” 

Oberyn seethes as he watches Ellaria dance with a few other women on stage. His lover doesn’t know the news that he’s getting married yet and he plans to keep it that way. The ice in his glass of whiskey clinks as he grips it in his hand and he hates that he’s being forced into marriage. He vowed to never marry after his sister was killed because she married into another mafia family. The Lannisters killed her. He just can’t prove it. He sighs and Ellaria comes over, climbing into his lap to press her lips to his, “come on lover. Watch up. You rented this private booth for your enjoyment.” She reminds him as the rest of the club goers squeeze in below. 

**** 

You feel overwhelmed. Watching the wedding planner as he pulls out the linen options and cake options and you don’t even care. You’re being bought to marry a Martell and you don’t want to pretend like this wedding is of your own volition. “Where is the groom?” The planner asks and you bite your lip, “he’s-” Oberyn cuts you off with “right here” as he strides into the room with a cigar in hand, his orange shirt half unbuttoned and you hate how attractive he looks.

Awakening before noon is a rarity for Oberyn and despite the late night, he is finding himself to be enjoying the shocked look on your face when he strolls into the room. “Apologies for being late, you know how I hate to drag myself away from my….activities.” He quirks a brow and smirks as he eyes the wedding planner. “You should know that all colors will be Martell colors.” He tuts. “No need to pick anything else. After all, she is marrying into the most powerful family around.” 

You bite your lip to smother your scoff as his cockiness. You shake your head and look down at the plans, the colors you picked are obsolete now that orange and gold have been chosen by him. “What else would you like to have, darling?” You ask sarcastically. You know Oberyn. Your mother works for them so you’ve grown up with the family, watching Doran take over, have the accident, then Oberyn whoring around, killing anyone who dares to look at him the wrong way.

“Wine, lots of wine.” He snorts, tapping his chin as he pretends to contemplate the question even though it’s obvious you would rather he leave. “Perhaps some contortionists and burlesque dancers for the reception?” He knows that will offend your prudish sensibilities and maybe even make you mad enough to call off the wedding. If you refuse to go through with it, Doran cannot complain. 

You clench your jaw, you know what he's trying to get to you to do and you won’t let him. You need to make sure your mom gets treatment. You won’t allow him to ruin this. When your mom is better, you’ll divorce him and he can have his life back. “Whatever you want.” You hum, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of you arguing. “Perhaps we can have a vanilla wedding cake?” You suggest, wanting something simple and you know that’s your mom’s favorite.

Vanilla. Boring. Just like you seem to be. Oberyn rolls his eyes but he’s nodding. “The cake can be whatever you want it to be.” He promises, making it seem like he is being generous. “I also want cupcakes of every flavor.” He smirks at the wedding planner and sends him a small wink. “I like variety.”

You can’t refrain from rolling your eyes this time. “Yeah. Cupcakes. Every flavor. Of course, vanilla isn’t enough for him.” You tell the planner who glances between the two of you. You are struggling to even get through this but you will. Oberyn looks at the table layout and quickly moves people around, a glint in his eye and he frowns after a moment, “Ellaria needs a table.” He declares and you inhale sharply, unable to believe he has the audacity to invite his lover to your wedding. “She’s - I didn’t think- it’s a family affair.” You remind him and he scoffs, “she is family.” You sigh, reminded that he cares little for loyalty and a monogamous relationship.  You remember a few years ago the Martells were throwing a party for Doran and your mother was invited and you joined her. You overheard Oberyn proudly telling his friends that he could fuck who he wanted. Marriage was a ball and chain and he refused to be tamed. He wanted freedom to fuck who he wants. He also went on to say he hated women who didn’t know what they wanted from sex. Women who were timid or shy. That made you roll your eyes and stride off to search for a glass of champagne. Since you were a little girl, all you ever wanted was a loving relationship. A man who loved you and was loyal to you, dedicated and caring. Now, you’re marrying a man who couldn’t give a shit about you.

Oberyn is surprised that you aren’t pitching a fit, sure that you would be insulted. “Fantastic.” He murmurs, leaning close to unsettle you and he’s struck by how sensual your perfume is. He is not a man who restrains himself often, so he presses his lips to your pulse in a gesture that anyone else would find loving and intimate. “You and I will get along well, my sweet little Dove.” He coos in your ear. 

You resist the urge to shiver and recoil as he backs away and you want to slap him for kissing you. You don’t know what Doran coerced him with to marry you but it’s obvious he has no plans to change his lifestyle and you don’t care. You just want to give your mother a chance, if there is any hope of her beating the cancer. You won’t let Oberyn ruin this. You need to do this for your mom’s sake. “Whatever you want, baby.” You coo, reaching up to caress his cheek and the wedding planner smiles, “you make such a beautiful couple.” You lower your hand and thank him. “Let’s discuss the outfits. I have you booked to go wedding dress shopping on Saturday. Oberyn, you will have your tailor work on your suit?”

He hums, knowing that Doran will want him to have a new suit made for the event. “Do you want something traditional or bold and daring?” He asks, arching a brow at you and smirking. 

“Traditional.” You tell him, not wanting to look like you’re in Vogue even though you literally will be in Vogue with the man beside you. He looks disappointed with your answer but you don’t care. This isn’t a runway event, it’s a wedding. “Black tie it is.” Oberyn nods, although he will sneak in some orange and gold. The wedding planner makes some notes and claps, “very well. We have everything we need to get this wedding going. T-minus twenty days. I’ve never planned a wedding so fast.” He confesses, almost wondering why he needs to plan it so fast. His eyes drop down to your stomach but there’s no indication that you are pregnant. He had been told about your mother so that could be why it’s being planned so fast.

“I want my daughters there.” Oberyn tells you. “In the wedding or not, I will dance with each one at the reception.” He has eight daughters, eight bastards that he publicly and proudly claims as his own. He is a doting father and his own wedding will be no exception. “I don’t suppose you have decided on a ring yet, have you Dove?”

You know that Oberyn has lived many lives before you met him. You sigh and shake your head, “I don’t expect a ring. You know what this is.” You murmur, not wanting to take more than what you need for your mother. You need to help her and you don’t want the Martell money to wear on your finger as a reminder of your situation.

The wedding planner is not standing next to you, but Oberyn is offended. “Whatever this might be, you will have a ring.” He will not have someone talk about his lack of care for his bride, even if he does not wish to get married. “I will have the jeweler come tonight with a selection of rings for you to choose from.” He informs you. “Pick what you will like from them.”

You scoff, "how romantic." You roll your eyes and watch the planner gather his things while Oberyn is next to you. You hate how he seems to loom over you, his aura overwhelming you. He's always been that way. You look down at your bare left hand and try to envision his ring on your finger but it feels foreign and wrong.

“It is better than picking some monstrosity you hate.” He snorts. “I don’t think that you would like my taste in jewelry, you don’t seem to like my taste in anything, Dove.” Now that he’s seen your reaction to this, he feels that you are no more happy about the situation than he is. “Or are you hoping that your innocence will intrigue me?”

You snort, "I don't want to intrigue you. You are indulgent, quick to kill, and ostentatious. I am not. I have never killed. I have never been - been promiscuous. We are worlds apart and this marriage is for us to get what we want." You declare, knowing he would never marry you if it weren't for his brother.

“What I want?” He snorts, oddly insulted by your description of him even though you aren’t wrong. “Believe me, there is nothing in this arrangement that I want.”

His words sting even though you aren't remotely interested in a relationship with him but you don't want to show him how his words hurt. You stiffen and look at him, ignoring the way his dark eyes seem to burn into you. "The only thing I want is for my mother to live. I'll do whatever it takes to save her. Even marry you." You hiss and stride off, the wedding planning finished and you want to get home and pretend for a while that this isn't happening.

Oberyn watches you go, a frown creasing his brow and he has to admit that he admires that. You don’t want him, that’s obvious. You aren’t a good actress and he wouldn’t have believed you if you tried to seduce him. He pulls out his phone and calls his brother, even if the man is still in the same house he is. “Doran….tell me about the mother.” He demands.

**** 

You stare at yourself in the mirror, almost confused by the person looking back at you, and you don't recognize the woman standing there in the white dress. A bride. You look like a bride and you glance back at the iPad where your mom is on there watching you try on dresses. She was confused when you told her you were marrying Oberyn when you had been vocally disapproving of him. "You look beautiful, baby." She coos and you smile, tears stinging in your eyes as you wish you were marrying someone you loved instead of Oberyn.

“This is a beautiful choice.” The sales woman had been very attentive when she learned whose bride you are. The announcement had been made in the papers and on all the major Dornish networks two days ago. She knows that no expense will be spared on the Martell wedding and that means a hefty commission for her. “Would you like to try the shoes you picked out?”

You nod, chest feeling tight at how real this is starting to feel. You inhale shakily, watching the associate go to fetch the shoes and you lift your dress to try on the shoes that cost more than you’d spend in shoes in a lifetime. You turn to face the iPad again and your mom grins, clapping her hands and you hate how frail she looks. “Beautiful. Beautiful.” She grins and you offer her a weak smile.

“Oh I am so happy that I will get to be there for this.” She tells you, having feared the worst when her diagnosis was terminal. “The new doctors have been wonderful, they assure me that their treatment course has a better prognosis than before.” She beams tiredly through the camera. “Perhaps there will be grandchildren soon to help bolster my strength.”

You nod, swallowing down the hope that your mom could get better. She could beat this. She doesn’t know that this is fake. You told her that you fell hard and fast for Oberyn and he wanted to marry you before anything happened to your mom. She bought the story, the drugs clouding her judgment and you are grateful you can give her this happiness. You sigh and brush down the dress, looking at yourself in the mirror. You never imagined you’d be marrying for money but here you are. If your mom lives, it’s worth every second of misery being married to a man who can’t keep it in his pants.

“This arrived to the store for you.” The assistant brings over a box that is plain and sturdy. Obviously old. You frown slightly and take the small card that is with it and flip it open. “Dove, this veil has been worn by Martell women for over two hundred years. Wear it well. Oberyn.” There is no sentiment behind the words, but the thoughtfulness of it surprises you. Opening the box to find a stunning antique place veil that has small yellow and orange suns delicately embroidered around the edges of the throat length overlay and the twenty foot train. It’s an heirloom piece and absolutely stunning.

The sales associate comes over and gasps at the veil. “The last woman to wear this was Elia.” She reminds you of the last Martell woman who was killed by the Mountain on the order of the Lannisters. A man who still walks the earth today by some miracle because Oberyn has been very vocal about killing him. She carefully removes the veil from the box and secures it on your head. It’s so delicate but combined with the dress, you look like a princess. “Oh my God.” You choke as your mother says the same words but as a tearful coo. “You look beautiful. Like a Martell.” She cries happily and you stare at yourself in the mirror. A Martell. This is real. You’re marrying a man you do not love. You carefully touch the veil and take a moment until you turn to the sales associate and tell her you’re going to take the dress. It’s ridiculously expensive but Oberyn already has told the shop to let you buy whatever you want. You say goodbye to your mom and shut the iPad after you change into your clothes and you head back to your apartment to find it being packed up. “What the hell is this?” You ask the moving man who shrugs, “moving you into your new place with your hubby to be, sweet cheeks.” He declares and you clench your jaw. You knew you’d be moving in with Oberyn to keep up appearances but not so soon.

The man watching over the packing pushes off the counter where he was leaning against it as he eats a bowl of berries from your refrigerator and saunters over towards you. “Don’t worry, they won’t break anything.” He promises. He is Oberyn’s right hand man, handsome and just as quick to violence as the man Dorne had labeled the ‘Red Viper’ and ‘the Prince of Dorne’ due to his second in command status. This made Dario third in command in his mind. “Although maybe you should invest in some lingerie to entice Oberyn.” He suggests with a smirk. “The drawer is a little….bland.”

You narrow your eyes, hating that Dario has looked through your underwear drawer. Hating that your life is being moved because of Oberyn. "I don't think I'll be enticing Oberyn at all. This is - you know what this is." You hiss at the cocky man who smirks as he stands in your kitchen. "I do. Which means you better make it worth his while since he's marrying you to save your mother." He hums, reaching out to cup your cheek and you jerk your head from his touch. "Shame as well. You're a pretty one. Stuck up but nothing a bit of anal wouldn't change." He chuckles and you wrinkle your nose, "you're disgusting." You scoff and turn to make sure the movers aren't damaging anything.

**** 

“Lover, where do you expect her to stay?” Ellaria’s body stretches out across the settee, head back as she tilts her head up to look into her lover’s eyes. Her smile is almost secretive, as if she knows something that Oberyn does not. She might, she’s been with the man for over a decade, birthed four of his children and has no issue sharing him with whomever catches his fancy. Oberyn huffs and shakes his head. “There are plenty of rooms. She can take up an entire floor for all I care, but she will live in Sunspear.” Doran had made it clear that you would be his wife and he would treat you accordingly. It was why he had sent the veil over to the dress shop. It was important you wear it. To show all of Dorne that you are his, a Martell.

You glance around the place you’ve been moved to. It’s beautiful and you look out across Dorne to the sea, blue and glistening under the hot sun. You sigh and inhale deeply now that the movers have left and unpacked. You didn’t need to lift a finger and you wonder if that is how the Martell’s live. Rich and famous for all the wrong reasons, you wonder what your life will become. Your mom is in the hospital, a private wing paid for by Doran and a reminder of your agreement. You don’t hear the door behind you open until Oberyn’s “hello” reaches your ears and you sigh, turning to look at your husband-to-be. He looks disheveled and it annoys you to no end that he looks hot yet you can tell he’s been with his lover. “I didn’t expect you to return.” You confess, “figured you’d be with your lover until the weddings

Oberyn smirks slightly at the comment. “You are not as innocent as you look.” He hums, walking farther into the room and picking up a crystal figurine that you have sitting on a table. “It is comfortable, no? You have everything you need?”

You nod, “it’s beautiful here.” You look out the window again, “I see why you are so…you. Being gifted this beautiful life.” You murmur, turning back to look at him as he sets the crystal down. “I know you are with Ellaria. I don’t - should we say I know about it or should we say it’s over?” You ask, wanting to know to react if you’re asked about it.

He arches a brow at the surprisingly mature take. He had expected you to make a snide comment about his lover of many years. “You can say what you wish. Even tell people she is your lover.” He chuckles, not even able to imagine that, although Ellaria thinks you are very appealing in a virginal way. “She would not mind.”

You roll your eyes, knowing this is a woman he has children with. “Come now, people won’t believe I am her lover. I need - I’ll tell people it’s an open relationship. Easiest way since you're unlikely to become monogamous.” You huff and walk over to the fridge to take a bottle of water out. “I don’t know what you get from this arrangement apart from annoying me at every turn.”

Oberyn snorts. “Perhaps I like to annoy you.” He muses, wondering how you are to temper his impulses when you can’t stand him. “You are free to have whatever lovers you wish.” Your mouth drops open in shock and he holds up a finger to silence you. “Two rules. No bastards and you don’t fuck my men.”

You think about Dario, how he eyed you, and you bite your lip, wondering if you can rile your fiancé up. “I can promise no bastards.” Which makes you chuckle internally considering he has eight daughters out of wedlock. “For your men…I don’t know if I can promise that.” You hum vaguely, liking the way he clenches his jaw.

Fury heats his veins and he is moving before you can react, grabbing your arms and hauling you closer, his nose nearly touching yours. “I do not hurt women, but I will kill every one of my men you touch.” He hisses. “I will not have them thinking to fight me for your cunt.”

You gulp, his fingers digging into your arms to give you a glimpse of the dangerous man he is. You nod, your nose bumping his as you say “I understand.” You don’t want anyone to die because of you. You have had boyfriends, lovers, but you refuse to have your image tarnished by taking a lover while married to Oberyn. You hope this can be annulled once enough time has passed and your mother is better.

****

“You look perfect.” The irony of having Ellaria help him get ready for a wedding to another woman is not lost on him. She smirks as she adjusts his bow tie slightly. “I will have to pick out quite a few lovers tonight to distract myself from missing out on your wedding night.” The pout she sends him is playful and he snorts. “I will be spending tonight in our bed with you and whoever catches our interests.” He captures her hands and holds them, his eyes serious and dark. “This changes nothing between us.”

You brush down your dress, your mom in a beautiful dress, sitting in her wheelchair with the IV connected to her arm. She’s so frail but her smile is beaming and your heart warms at her happiness. Even if she doesn’t quite understand this farce, she’s happy and you can give this day to her. If she doesn’t survive, you’ll know you did everything for her. “He’s going to be blown away.” She coos and you offer her a weak smile in the mirror. You have no bridesmaids, not wanting anyone else involved in this sham and your wedding planner helps you put the intricate veil on your head.

Oberyn stands next to the priest, sure that the Gods will be laughing as he professes to take this woman as his wife. The church is packed, everyone wanting to see the infamous Oberyn Martell marry. Some said it would never be done. He glances at his brother who is sitting in his chair on the front row, making sure that this marriage happens. He cuts his eyes towards the door and sighs.

The music begins to play and for a second, you want to run away and not look back. Then you remember your mother’s face and your chest tightens. You need to do this for her. You inhale deeply and nod, letting the ushers open the doors, and you grip your bouquet as you start your trip down the aisle to a man that doesn’t love you and you don’t love him.

Glancing quickly at Ellaria, Oberyn turns to watch as you start the slow, measured walk down the aisle that is covered in silk flower petals. Some might have believed that he had never married because Ellaria was deemed unsuitable to be his wife, but that was not the truth. The truth was, the part of Oberyn’s heart that loved - beyond his children - died the day his sister was savagely killed. Brutalized and cut down, the vision of her final moments and the loss of his favorite sibling had hardened his heart. Even now, he loves Ellaria in his own way, he cares for her and makes sure that she is provided for, but he does not hold her in an all consuming passion. He does not crave her like he craves air. Watching as your white clad body glides forward, he wonders if you will understand that.

You can feel his eyes on you and you force yourself to look up from the aisle to meet his dark gaze. His stare is intense and you wonder what’s going through his mind. He’s a mystery. He’s been with Ellaria for years on and off and never married her. He’s had eight daughters and never been married. Either he can’t commit or he doesn’t want to commit. You finally stand before him, handing your bouquet to the wedding planner and you take Oberyn’s outstretched hand to stand in front of the priest.

Despite your obvious dislike of the situation, you look beautiful and graceful. Your hand is soft and warm in his and your eyes meet his with a determination that pulls reluctant admiration out of you. This is for your mother, he knows that. The frail woman is here and that is a miracle because the doctors are trying every radical treatment they can to save her. He has known her most of his life and he has to respect this kind of loyalty to her. The willingness to do anything to save her. He pulls you close and starts to flip the veil over your head so he can see you clearly.

Your eyes meet his unhindered as he lifts the veil from your face and you inhale shakily as he reaches for your hands. You barely pay attention to the priest, letting him make his speech but Oberyn has to squeeze your hand to get your attention when the priest asks if you take Oberyn to be your husband. You hesitate for a moment, biting your lip and look over at your mother who is smiling with tears in her eyes. You can’t say no. She needs to have one last chance. “I do.” You declare and Oberyn’s grip on your hands loosens while he says “I do.” After your exchange rings and the priest finishes his speech, you’re in a daze until the priest declares you husband and wife. “You may now kiss your bride.”

His lips curve into a smirk. Not shy about gathering you closer to kiss you without any fear of you pushing him away or slapping him. Not that it would bother him, he doesn’t mind when a lover is rough. It’s exciting. He makes it a scene, dipping you down and kissing you thoroughly, his tongue sliding into your mouth to taste you and turning what should be a chaste kiss into something much more carnal.

Your cheeks burn when he finally sets you on your feet, lips glistening and the crowd cheers as he takes your hand and guides you down the aisle. You hate how your lips tingle and you would never admit it but he’s a good kisser. You stumble slightly but he keeps you upright and you make your way down the aisle until you’re in the hallway, your chest heaving as you let go of his hand. “Well that will certainly be in all the magazines.” You declare and Oberyn chuckles, “had to sell it, Dove. Can’t have people thinking I don’t satisfy my bride.” You scoff and make your way down the hall to the photographers that are waiting. “We both know it’s not going to be my bed you’re in tonight.”

“Disappointed?” He leans close, invading your space and to the photographers, it looks as if Oberyn is whispering sweet nothings in your ear. “You just need to invite me to your bed and I will make sure you have a wedding night you would never forget.” Despite his objections to marrying you, he has no issue fucking you. It would be interesting to aid in striping away your virginal facade and turning you into his own little whore.

You smile and turn to look at him, reaching up to cup his cheek, “I’ll never let you fuck me. You can take my hand, my life as your own, but you’ll never have my body.” You lean in to peck his lips and turn back to the cameras, almost blinded by the lights. Oberyn has had more lovers than you’ve had hot dinners and you refuse to give him that kind of power over you. You know he’d never let you forget it if you let him fuck you. Then he’d leave and go back to Ellaria’s bed. No, you’d never give him that hold over you.

Instead of being angry by your vow, Oberyn bursts out laughing, amused by the venom in your words. His cock twitches, imagining making you eat those words when you fall into his bed eventually. “Then you should not worry about who screams my name tonight.” He murmurs quietly. “Although I’m sure you will hear it.”

The irony of this situation is not lost on you. Doran picked you to calm his brother down but you seem to be riled up by his nature, leaving behind your normally gentle and agreeable personality in favor of defending yourself. His hand cups the back of your neck as per the shouted instructions from the photographer and you smile at him but say through gritted teeth, “rather them than me.”

“Temper, temper.” He muses, winking at you before he drags you closer for a kiss so the photographer can capture the moment. He finds your unrestrained hatred of him refreshing. He doesn’t like when people kiss his ass unless he is in the mood. “Then I will make sure I have a group of them.”

You let him kiss you and you wonder how you’re going to endure the reception when you’re only on the photos. After you take photos with your family, you and Oberyn enter the reception hall to applause and you let him pull you close for the first dance. You don’t say anything, leaning your head on his shoulder to make sure you look close without needing to speak to him and you close your eyes, not wanting to see the crowd watching you.

The moment would actually be considered sweet if there was some semblance of affection between the two of you. When the song comes to a close, the DJ that is setting the mood announces a dance between mother and daughter.

You are surprised but you go over to your mom who is in her wheelchair and she attempts to get up “no mom, don’t stress yourself. We can dance in the wheelchair.” Your mother shakes her head, “absolutely not. I will dance at my baby’s wedding, without being in a wheelchair.” You don’t argue with her, you just help her stand and guide her over to the dancefloor when the song begins and you gently sway with your frail Mother tears sting in your eyes when you try not show how sad you are, but she seems to be getting worse. You had hoped that the treatments at Martells would help her. You don’t see it in her eyes, but she knows that she is dying and she wants to enjoy every moment she has left.

Oberyn watches until it’s obvious that you are supporting most of your mother’s weight and he quickly steps in behind her. Shifting the weight off of you, he grins to the crowd watching. “I was jealous of two beautiful ladies dancing without me.” He jokes, making everyone laugh and making it seem like his impulsive nature is to blame instead of your mother’s frailty.

You can’t deny that Oberyn wrapping his arms around your mom’s waist makes you smile in thanks and the song plays as Oberyn sways you both. When the song ends, he playfully lifts your mom into his arms, carrying her over to her chair. “You’re supposed to carry my daughter.” She giggles and Oberyn winks after he sits her down, “that’s for later.” He presses a soft kiss to the back of your mom’s hand.

Your mother giggles again quietly, charmed by Oberyn’s flirtatious nature even though she’s aware of the man’s proclivities. Perhaps he has changed for you, the thought makes her happy to know that you will have a strong man at your side when she is gone. He winks at her before he stands straight and the DJ announces the first of eight dances with his daughters.

You settle down at your table to watch Oberyn dance with his daughters, each one getting their own dance and you watch him as he speaks softly to them, making them laugh and smile, and sends them to their table with a kiss on the cheek and a hug. It’s clear he adores them. You feel eyes watching you and you turn your head, your eyes meeting Ellaria’s as she offers you a soft smile. You’re surprised she doesn’t hate you. Isn’t glaring at you for marrying her lover.

When you don’t cut your eyes at her, Ellaria picks up her glass of champagne and stands up. Slinking across the hall in a dress that is a little too revealing to be considered proper, but she wears it well. “Dove.” She smiles, sliding into the seat where Oberyn will be sitting later to eat. “You look more beautiful than I imagined you would. You wear the Martell veil well.”

You know people are watching so you offer her a soft smile, “thank you. I was shocked when Oberyn gave it to me. I am sure he always imagined you’d be the one wearing this for his wedding day. I wondered before this charade why you never married each other.” You ponder out loud. “You know about our arrangement and why we are doing this. I have no malice towards you. You are his lover, the mother of his children. I do not know why Doran wanted me to marry his brother.”

She watches you for a moment before she laughs, a beautiful trilling sound of amusement, her head tipped back to expose her long neck. “Oh darling, I see why he wanted you to marry Oberyn.” She hums when she calms down. “And I would have never married him.” She admits causally, shrugging one elegant shoulder. “We do not have that kind of relationship.” She knows how Oberyn feels and she would have never tied herself to him with those things in mind. He was too free of a spirit and so was she, if the truth was told.

You frown, certain that Oberyn loves Ellaria more than anything, but maybe you don’t know the entire story. “I don’t expect him to stop sleeping with you. We aren’t - this isn’t a marriage of love. This is convenient.” You clarify and pick up your glass of champagne, taking a sip while Oberyn spins his daughter around.

“I don’t know if that is alllll true.” She murmurs, a small smile on her face. “And it is wise that you don’t expect him to stop being who he is.” She lifts a brow in irony. “We never want to change someone when we love them.”

You nod, “yeah. I don’t care what he does. I only want my mother to survive. Whatever Oberyn does is his business. I just don’t want him to make me look a fool.” You confess, setting your glass down and everyone claps as Oberyn finishes his last dance.

“Then don’t be surprised by anything that he does.” Ellaria leans forward seriously. “Oberyn might not love you, he doesn’t love me either. Not like you might think, but he is loyal….in his own way.” She cautions you. “You are now his and he will expect the same kind of loyalty from you that he gives you.”

Your frown deepens as she says he doesn’t love her. You’ve heard the rumors of how intense their relationship is. You assumed they were deeply in love. “I won’t make a fool of him.” You assure her, “I just want my mother to survive and after that? Well, that would be a miracle problem to have.”

The other woman glances over at the frail woman with a look of concern and presses her lips together. “I hope that you get your wish.” She murmurs, reaching out and taking your hand. “Let me know if there is anything I can do.”

You appreciate her not spitting in your face since you are stealing her lover as your husband. You squeeze her hand and she glides back to her table as Oberyn passes her. He kisses her cheek and makes his way over to your table, sitting down beside you. "Ellaria likes you." He declares and you snort, "You can tell from just one kiss?"

“My lover is not shy about things she likes.” He chuckles quietly. “Now, I am famished, and I think that we should eat.” He offers, nodding to the wedding planner to have the servers start bringing out the plates of food. The canapés had been good, but he wanted something more. “Eat up.” He winks at you. “You will need your strength.”

You refrain from rolling your eyes and reach for your glass of champagne so you can down it. It’s going to be a long night but you are prepared to endure it when your mom looks like she’s won the lottery. She looks so happy so you force a smile and sit beside Oberyn like you’ve won your own lottery.

The party is still in full swing when you and Oberyn make your exit, ducking the handfuls of birdseed and confetti that all the party goers throw. Holding tight to your hand, he rushes you out, getting to the elevators before he drops your hand and pulls out his keycard to open up the access to the floors where your and his apartments are located. “The party will go on for hours.” He predicts as the car doors slide open and you step onto the elevator. “Pity we will miss it. It was a good one. The dancers the planner found were….limber.”

You lean against the wall of the elevator car, watching the floors pass by and you inhale deeply, looking at Oberyn. “You are welcome to rejoin if you wish but I suppose we need to make people think we consummated our marriage.” You hum and you know you won’t stop him from finding someone to warm his bed.

His brow arches and he smirks, leaning closer to you and pressing you closer to the wall. “Are you going to invite me between those pretty thighs, Dove?” He coos, reaching up to caress your neck, his thumb rubbing your pulse. Your scoff grates on his ears, irritating him when he has been flirty and kind to you. He has done nothing today to humiliate you or demoralize you and yet you are pushing him away like he is the gum on the bottom of your show. Him, Oberyn Martell. His piercing hot look turns cold and he hisses. “It does not matter.” He snorts. “I have people lined up to suck my cock if you have no desire to.” He boasts. “Any one I want. Why would I want you?” It’s petty and cruel, but he can be that way when he’s insulted. “You have the demeanor of a cold fish anyway. I like my partners to enjoy themselves.”

His words shouldn’t hurt as much as they do but you stiffen and when the elevator dings to announce your arrival, you stride out of the car into the apartment without hesitation. “Then go find your pleasure anywhere but my bed. I didn’t marry you to fuck you, Oberyn. I married you to save my mother. You need to remember that.” You hiss and slam the door behind you to your bedroom, slumping down on the bed. You listen to the elevator ding again and tears sting in your eyes until they roll down your cheeks. You married a man who doesn’t love you and you hate that you had to do this to save your mother. Your sobs come when you realize you can’t get out of your dress without help so you lay down, constricted by the lace, and cry for your marriage and your mother.

“Lover…” Ellaria slumps onto the bed, worn out and exhausted. “I need rest.” Oberyn chuckles, his wedding attire strewn over the floor as his hand slides over her sweat slick hip and he slaps the ass off the man who is laying beside her. “Then you watch.” He tells her, lunging forward to slide his tongue into the man’s mouth as he tries to forget about how your eyes had flickered with hurt before you turned that tongue on him.

**** 

It’s been a few weeks since you and Oberyn married and you’ve barely seen him. You are with your mother every day as she struggles to get through treatment and you know it’s a fruitless effort. She’s withering away and even selling your soul to the Martell’s won’t save her. You arrive back at the apartment after your mom fell asleep and you’re surprised to see Dario standing in your kitchen. “What - what are you doing here?” You ask, confused and looking around for Oberyn.

Dario smirks as he pops another piece of an orange that he had stolen from your fruit bowl into his mouth. “Checking on you.” He quips and flings the rind of the fruit onto the counter as he walks towards you. “Haven’t seen you around and wanted to make sure you aren’t……lonely.” He knows that Oberyn hasn’t been spending his nights in your bed. He has men and women parading out of the floor that he shares with Ellaria. He slides his hot gaze up and down your body suggestively and licks his lips. “Perhaps you prefer someone who knows what he wants.”

Your back stiffens and you realize he is alone with you. You glance around the apartment and he reaches out to caress your cheek. You freeze, unsure of what to do when you’re alone and you know what he’s capable of. “I’m not - Oberyn is - I’m not allowed to touch any of Oberyn’s men.”

“He won’t know.” He muses. “Too busy playing with his whore and everyone else.” He snorts. “Did you reject him? He’s fucking everything that walks like you did. Proving to himself that your cunt doesn’t matter, but I think it does.” He steps closer and smirks. “I want to have something he doesn’t. For once.”

You are frozen in place, your mind skipping and you know you should push him away but he leans in to press his lips to your cheek, a chuckle breathed against your skin, and your back hits the kitchen counter as he crowds you, his other hand on your waist.

Dario takes your non-refusal as acceptance. His body pressing against yours as his mouth moves from your cheek to your lips. Mindless to anything but you letting him kiss you. Not hearing the door to the apartment open or the quick steps towards you, anger lacing each boot strike. He doesn’t even know that anyone else is in the apartment, too focused on his victory over Oberyn, until a hand grabs his shoulder and he is dragged off you like a rag doll. A fist plowing into his face before his eyes even open to see who is there. “Bastard!” Oberyn shouts, kicking the man while he is down before he backs up. “You were warned not to touch her.” He roars.

You gasp, shuffling to get out of the way as Oberyn straddles Dario and his fist comes down on his face. "Oberyn. I - he didn't - he hasn't fucked me." You yell at him but he continues to hit his second in command.

“You want what is mine?” Oberyn rages, hitting him with one fist, then the other with alternating strikes. Dario had thrown his hands up to defend himself but the force of the attack renders him helpless as his boss beats him. He gurgles out an apology, barely heard and not acknowledged. “I let you have everything - anything - you want. But not her. I told you that you are getting too comfortable.” He had known Dario was jealous, thinking himself the better man. It was why he had told him that he couldn’t have you. No one could. If the man fucked his wife, he would start thinking he could replace Oberyn, and he would never let that happen.

You scream at Oberyn to stop. Dario might have been handsy but he doesn’t deserve to die. You watch as Oberyn hits until Dario goes unconscious and your husband’s chest heaves as he looks up at you, sweat on his brow and his knuckles torn up. “Holy shit.” You gasp, kneeling down, “I can’t - why did you - why?” You ask breathlessly.

Panting, Oberyn reaches for you as he leaps to his feet. He is still agile and deadly, making you gasp with the speed at which he moves. He growls as he shakes you slightly. “I told you not to touch my men.” He hisses, right before his lips slam against yours in a bruising kiss.

When you look back on the moment you kiss him back and you realize it was adrenaline. Your hands tangle in his hair and you moan into his mouth, pressing yourself against him. He slides his tongue into your mouth and you moan, sliding yours against his and you feel his cock hardening against your hip.

Dario doesn’t groan, still unconscious on the floor as Oberyn backs you against the wall and presses you into it. Completely taking control of the kiss as his hands grab your ass and he pulls you up into his arms and presses against your core as he carries you through the apartment to your bedroom.

You don’t reject him, hyped up on adrenaline and the feelings that have been haunting you since the night you got married. His dark eyes find you everywhere - in the coffee you drink, in the chocolate you treated yourself to, and you know you need to get him out of your system. Your back hits the bedsheets and he follows, kneeling between your legs and his lips press against your jaw. “Oberyn.” You gasp, tilting your head as you close your eyes so he can destroy you like you always knew he would.

His name on your lips is all the permission he needs. Hands pulling at the clothes you are wearing. Stripping them as efficiently and and quickly as possible. Greedy for every bare inch of flesh you reveal to him and his lips travel over your neck. His teeth leaving a trail of marks behind as he claims you as his own.

You want to see all of him. To know if the rumors of his beauty are exaggerated or if they are true. You unbutton his half buttoned shirt, pushing it from his shoulders and he shrugs it off, tossing it aside, while your hands caress his chest down to his stomach.

“You do not even look at my men.” Oberyn hisses, flipping open his belt and snapping it out of the loops of his pants, the gun holster dropping to the floor and sliding away. Reminding you of how easily he could have killed Dario. He grabs your hands, thinking to tie them to the bed, but he wants you to touch him. To be just as hungry for his body as he has been for yours. He’s never been denied, and instead of it making him indifferent, it has made him crave you. Tossing the belt aside, he holds your hands above your head, making your tits stick up in their lacy bra and he ducks his head to bite down on a nipple.

You cry out, arching your back and you wrap your legs around his waist, grinding up against him. “Fuck. I- I- shit. Baby.” You cry out, “I need you inside me. Now.” You beg, cunt aching with the need to have him stretch you out.

His pants disappeared, underwear was never a thing, so it isn’t a barrier between the two of you. His fingers twist under your panties and he rips them apart at the seams. Taking you at your word that you need him.

You gasp when he rips your panties off and you spread your legs for him without hesitation. You desperately want him inside of you. The way he defended what is his even if you aren’t his in heart, you are on paper, and the way he took out Dario has you ashamedly wet. “Fuck me, Oberyn.” You whine when he grips his cock and shifts between your thighs.

He loves the way you are begging him. His smirk is self satisfied and predatory as he shuffles close and swipes his cock through your soaked folds. “Gods, Dove.” He growls. “You will remember tonight.” He vows, lining his cock up and snapping his hips forward as he covers your mouth with his own.

You cry out into his mouth, the sound smothered by his tongue, and your hands find his back, scratching your nails down the golden skin as his cock stretches you out. There’s a sting but you love it.

Oberyn would never insult you to say that you are the best cunt he’s ever been inside. You wouldn’t believe him. However you are wet and tight, fitting him like a glove. He doesn’t give you a moment to adjust, drawing his hips to plunge back into you just as fast, eagerly setting a frantic pace.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he starts to fuck you. There’s no mistaking this for love making. It’s fucking, through and through. His hips hit your ass and you feel like you can barely breathe as he grunts into your mouth. It’s been so long since you had sex, focused on your mother’s health, and it's bliss to think about nothing except how you feel.

One hand braces on the bed below you, the other squeezes your tit. Pinching your nipple harshly to make you gasp and clench around his cock before he slides his hand lower. Finding your clit with precision accuracy and starting to rub tight, perfect circles on the bundle of nerves. Very practiced in pleasuring men and women alike.

“Holy shit. Oh - oh Gods, Oberyn. Baby. Oh shit.” You pant as he rocks into you, his fingers rubbing your clit, and you whimper as you scratch your nails down his back, marking him in the only way you can. “You’re gonna - shit. I’m gonna - I’m gonna cum.” You gasp, the feeling suddenly overwhelming you.

He doesn’t slow his pace down. His hips slapping against your ass. “Good girl, Dove.” He groans, kissing along your jaw. “Cum on my cock. Soak me.” He orders, feeling your body clench down around him.

The wail you let out is almost inhuman and you clamp down on his cock, a cry of his name barely distinguishable as you soak his cock with your cum. Your nails digging into his back and his cock working you through your orgasm.

He’s determined to make you never forget being in bed with him, fucking him. Wanting you to crave it every time your cunt throbs with need and your thoughts stray to having someone plunge into you. His men are off limits, unable to touch you like he does. You can have him, Ellaria and anyone else, but he wants you to want him.

You moan as he works you through your orgasm and you are sure he’s punching your guts with his cock as he pushes deep on each harsh movement of his hips. “Oberyn.” You whine when he pulls out of you and he flips you onto your hands and knees. You struggle to balance as he kneels behind you and pushes into you with a speed you never expected.

The weeks that you have been married and he’s been denied your body, they are being made up for right now. Every time he’s wanted to fuck you and not been able to is being taken out on your body. He groans when you clamp down around him again.

Your fingers tangle in the sheets and you moan his name as he rocks into you. He feels even bigger in this angle and you arch your back, your tits swaying as he fucks you with his entire body. “Yes baby. Shit. That’s - keep going. Don’t you dare stop.”

He chuckles at your demands, finding your bossiness in bed charming. Digging his fingers into your hips hard enough to leave bruises under your skin, he hisses out your name as he continues to pound into you.

You whine, head dropping down as he wrecks you, and you know why the Red Viper is so well known as a voracious lover. “Fuck. Fuck. You’re - I’m gonna - oh shit. Keep going. Right there.” You cry, eyes squeezed shut as he hits something incredible and it takes two more thrusts to unravel you.

Your orgasm is beautiful, your cry loud enough that anyone near your apartments would hear his name being screamed. Hissing in pleasure while the cream from your cunt soaks his cock, making obscene sounds as he fucks you through it. “That’s right.” He groans. “Fuck, you are happy now, aren’t you? Getting fucked like you’ve dreamed of. You needed this, didn’t you?”

“Fu- fuck you. I don’t - shit. I want - want to feel you.” You choke out, chest heaving as he fucks the air from your lungs. “You - you wanted my pussy. You’re the one who - who wants to fuck anything going and I- I tried to hold out.” You confess in gasps.

His fingers wrap around the back of your neck, pulling you up and wrapping an arm around your chest. His hand cupping your tit as he pumps up into you from a new angle. “Yes, I wanted this pussy.” He growls in your ear. “Craved it, fucked anything I could to take my mind off of it, off you.” He pants out the confession. “Nothing worked until I found you kissing my lieutenant.”

You lean back against him, turning your head so you can look at him. Sweat on his brow and his jaw clenched as he thrusts up into you. “It was yours on paper. Your wife. Your pussy. I don’t make it easy. You had to show me that I wasn’t going to be thrown out of your bed after you’ve gotten what you want.”

His eyes are dark and hot, boring into yours as he thrusts into you, rocking you towards another orgasm. His other hand slides down to your clit where he starts rubbing it again. “Mine.” He agrees. “My wife, my lover, you can be in my bed whenever you want. Have your cunt licked while I have my cock sucked. Bounce on my lover’s cock while I bury mine inside him. Cum on Ellaria’s fingers while I fuck her. Nothing will be denied to you.” He groans. “Except my men.”

Dario laying on the kitchen floor is proof of that. You know now that he will kill anyone who even looks your way and you should hate that but instead it has you clenching around his cock. He hisses and you moan, “I want to try it. I want to experience your lovers and you.” You moan, covering his hand on your breast with his.

Oberyn groans in your ear, loving that you will compromise with him. Not try to change him. “You won’t regret it, Dove.” He vows, his hips still slamming into your ass he fucks you. “Now, cum for me again.” He orders. “Cum for me and I’ll fill up your cunt with my seed and be satisfied.”

His words send you over the edge and you swear you black out as you clamp down on his cock and soak him. “Oh fuck!” You squeal, shaking in his arms as you fall apart pressed against his chest.

This time Oberyn lets himself follow you. Thrusting deep two more times, he buries his cock in your womb and starts to flood it with his seed. Groaning your name in your ear as he pumps you full. “Shiiiiit.”

You pant, squeezing your eyes shut as he works you through your orgasm and you whimper when his cock twitches inside you. “Shit.” You echo, closing your eyes as you relax against him. “Don’t push me away again. I don’t want to hate you.”

“I thought that was what you wanted.” Oberyn admits. “My brother is not happy that you and I have been living separate lives.” He admits, rolling you both to your side and lying down on your bed. “I had come to ask if you would have dinner with me.”

You sigh, shifting to curl into him. “I want to get to know you. We are in this situation for a reason and I want my mother to get better and to make this marriage work for us until it doesn’t. We have to at least try. There’s a reason why Doran chose me.”

“He said you would tame me.” He doesn’t mind this version of you, the one that isn’t spewing insults. His cock is still glistening with your juices and he knows you are dripping his cum onto the bed. Maybe he just needed to fuck you. “I don’t know why he would think that.” He snorts. “I nearly killed Dario. Still might.”

You tut, caressing his chest, “no. You don’t need to kill him. He was just trying his luck. Don’t let him get into your head. We need to stand solid side by side.” You declare and sigh, resting your head on his chest, “I just want my mom to have a chance.”

Oberyn sighs. “She has the best doctors in Dorne.” He reminds you softly. “Doran has asked for a few more to come from Winterfell and King’s Landing to make sure there is nothing else to be done.” Doran always kept his word and that meant your mother would receive the best possible care.

You hum, tears stinging in your eyes, and you swallow harshly. “I don’t want to lose her.” You choke, “she’s been all I have known. My father died when I was a baby.” You confess, “I’ll be alone if she dies.”

“You won’t be alone.” He reminds you. “You have a husband. My family became your family when we married.”

You sigh, pressing a kiss to his glistening golden skin, “thank you.” You murmur, knowing he means every word. He’s your husband and he will be there for you.

He lays there for another minute before he sighs. “I need to drag Dario out of your apartment.” He huffs, reminded of the fact the man is still unconscious on your kitchen floor. “Have the cleaners come in and clean up the blood.”

You snort and shake your head, “he needs a doctor.” You tell him but he ignores you in favor of sliding out of bed and you watch his back muscles move as he heads into the bathroom. He comes back out with a wet rag to clean you up and you sigh, stretching out on the sheets.

Oberyn can be a selfish lover with some. The people who float in and out of his bed clean themselves up, but for Ellaria, for you, he will take care of your needs. You bite your lip as he carefully runs the rag over your folds and he snorts in amusement. “I just watched your asshole pulse while I fucked you.” He reminds you. “There isn’t a part of your body that does not please me.”

You chuckle and stretch out with a groan, “that’s good to know because I have never felt this good before.” You confess, “holy shit, Oberyn. I can’t - wow.” You’re a little speechless as you snuggle into your pillow.

He hums, happy that you are pleased with how he fucked you. It’s important to him that no one leaves his bed unsatisfied, but especially the woman who is his wife. Now not just in name.

**** 

Tears sting in your eyes as you watch your mom struggle to breathe. She’s gotten worse and it’s only taken days for her to be bedridden and unable to breathe properly. The treatments aren’t working and you try your best to offer her a smile but your heart is breaking. She’s dying and there’s nothing more you can do.

The door opens and Oberyn comes into the room, pausing when he sees you in the chair and clutching your mother’s hand. The prognosis isn’t good and he had just come from talking with the doctor before coming to visit with the older woman. “Dove.” He murmurs softly before he walks over to your mother and kisses her papery thin cheek. Her skin has taken on a waxy appearance and feel, the underlying smell of death clinging to her. It won’t be long now. He says your mother’s name and gives her his most charming smile. “You are as beautiful as the day you came to work for us.” He praises, kneeling down on the other side of the bed. “You will be pain free in no time.”

Your mother offers him a weak smile, her hand shaking as she lifts it to cup his cheek. “Look after her. She deserves love and to be happy.” She tells Oberyn and you bite your lip to stop the tears from sliding down your cheeks.

“Don’t worry, my desert rose.” Oberyn covers her hand with his own, pressing it against his cheek. “Your daughter will be well taken care of.” He promises. “She will have joy and love. She will know happiness and that you watch her from your perch with the Gods proudly.”

You feel the sob work its way up your throat and swallow harshly, walking over to Oberyn to rub his back in silent thanks for him reassuring your mother in her final time. You lean down beside him, looking at your mom.” “We will be happy.” You promise, “Oberyn has been incredible.” You assure her, “he will look after me.” Your mom nods, her eyes getting heavy and you bite your lip to stop your sob.

Oberyn holds her hand with his, feeling her body relax and there is one surprisingly strong inhale that rattles through her frail body. The exhale doesn’t come, making Oberyn sigh as he knows that your mother has gone to be with the gods and you will be inconsolable.

You stare at her for several moments, your hand reaching out and that’s when you realize she’s gone. You sob and lean in to kiss her cheek, silently saying goodbye to her and you close your eyes, trying to not break down.

Pushing to his feet, Oberyn places your mother’s hand on her chest and steps back to let you grieve how you need to. “Her pain is gone, Dove.” He murmurs softly. He won’t leave you, knowing what you are going through. After you have your moment with her, he will arrange for your mother’s body to be treated with the utmost care.

You nod, lip quivering, and tears stream down your cheeks as you watch him treat your mom with so much care. “I can’t - I need you to - to help me plan everything.” You request and he nods, “of course I will.” He promises, leaning in to kiss your hair. You know he will, he promised your mom to look after you.

“She was a good woman.” He tells you quietly. “I would come sit with her, every afternoon, after lunch.” He had never told you that. Or that he had asked her not to tell you. After the arrangement had been made, and she had started the treatments, he had made time no matter what else was going on. Even when you weren’t speaking with him.

Your eyes widen and you stare at him in shock. “You came - every day?” You ask and he nods. Your heart pounds in your chest and he reaches out to gently wipe the tears from your cheeks. You reach up to grip his wrist and he freezes, thinking you’re rejecting his touch. “Thank you.” You whisper, wrapping your arms around his waist after you let go of his wrist.

“You don’t need to thank me.” He promises. “At first, I came to see if I could talk her into getting you to change your mind, but when I saw her doctor, I knew I could never do that.” He explains, not wanting you to think that he was totally honorable. “But then I kept coming back for her, for myself. She had always been there in Sunspear but I had never gotten to know her.” It’s a regret he will carry, but he is happy for the time he has spent with her. “I see why you went to such lengths to save her.”

You are shocked to hear that he was visiting your mother. You never knew that and you swallow harshly, trying to stop the sob that’s working its way up your throat again. You bury your face in his chest and squeeze him, knowing that you want to make this marriage work. He’s your husband, your only family.

**** 

The funeral is a beautiful, somber affair. Oberyn had helped you through it all, guiding you through choosing a service and flowers, music and a dress for her to wear. He had insisted that she be buried in the Martell crypt, telling you that as his mother-in-law, she deserved to be there. Since it was housed in the basement of the building you lived in, you could visit anytime you wished. He had stood by your side, strong and comforting, opening up to you about his grief from losing his sister and how it had changed him.

After the funeral, you have grown closer to Oberyn and you are getting ready for dinner with him when it hits you. You love him. You have no idea when it happened because you didn’t want him, didn’t like him, but between the drama between you and the way he’s supported you during your mother’s death, you have fallen for the Red Viper. You stare at yourself in shock and Oberyn walks into your now shared bedroom with the towel around his waist, chest glistening from his shower. “I love you.” You blurt out, unable to stop yourself.

Oberyn stops, turning towards you with his brow dipping into a furrowed line. “You shouldn’t, Dove.” He tells you quietly. “I’m not a good man, a man who is content to live a quiet and simple life.” You know he still sleeps with others. Not just Ellaria. He comes back to you most nights, especially since your mother’s death, but it’s no secret that he isn’t giving up his ways. You look so crestfallen that he sighs, his hands dropping to his sides. “You know I care about you?” He asks. “Right? That you will be safe and find pleasure and comfort with me? That I will make sure you are happy?”

His answer shouldn’t surprise you. He’s made it perfectly clear that he doesn’t do commitment and love. You’d accepted that he shares his bed with others and you haven’t been in a mindset to think about trying that with him. “I do.” You promise, looking back at yourself in the mirror. “I just wanted you to know how I feel. Even if you don’t feel the same.” You assure him and he nods, stripping off his towel and you can’t help but admire his body in your reflection. “Oberyn?” You ask and he looks at you, “yes, Dove?” You bite your lip, “I want to share our bed with Ellaria and another. I want to experience more.” You announce, slightly nervous.

He’s surprised and cautious about your wants. “Are you sure?” He doesn’t care about his nudity as he strides towards you, picking up the bottle of wine that has been left by the maid and drinks straight from the neck. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to.” He reaches out and caresses your cheek. “You don’t have to change for me.”

You nod, “I’m not changing because of you. I want to try it. If I don’t like it, I’ll say so. I want to experience something different. Can you help me do that?” You ask and he nods, a smirk on his face as he brushes your cheekbone with his thumb. “It would be my pleasure.” You smirk, turning your head to kiss his palm, “our pleasure.” Oberyn chuckles and leans down to kiss you, the taste of the wine on his tongue has you moaning and he pulls back to say “fuck dinner. I want you.” You moan into the kiss and let him drag you to the bed. He tells you everything he wants to watch you do, growled in your ear while he fucks you from behind. Your dinner reservation ignored.

After you are sprawled on the bed, dripping his cum, Oberyn caresses your hip and chuckles. “Do I call Ellaria and her lover into our bed now, or would you prefer tomorrow?” He slaps a cheek of your ass playfully. “Did I wear you out?”

You chuckle, “you have enough energy for them to come over now, husband? Or are you too old to continue fucking through the night?” You tease, eyebrows raised as you look up at him from where you are laying on the bed.

He rolls his eyes slightly and sighs. “Too old?” He snorts. “You weren’t calling me too old when you were screaming my name in pleasure while you soaked my cock.”

You chuckle at his offense and you shift to curl into his chest, “call them now. I’ll clean up and we can host Ellaria and her lover. I want to experience them.” You caress Oberyn’s sternum as you look at him.

He chuckles and reaches for his phone that is lying on the bedside table. Opening it up, he selects a number from his contacts and hits call. His fingers caress your back as the phone rings and he smiles when the sultry voice of his lover is heard. “Darling.” He coos. “Are you entertaining a woman tonight, or do you have that lover who has such an impressive cock of his own?” He asks, as easily as he would ask about a dinner date.

You listen to him on the phone, lounging on the bed as he speaks to Ellaria. “The lover with the impressive cock.” Ellaria coos her answer and you smirk, “come over.” You say since he has it on speaker and Ellaria is surprised when she speaks your name. “I want to experience you and your lover with my husband.” You declare, wanting to let her know your intentions.

Ellaria hums, wondering if Oberyn has convinced you to try this, although she knows he is not one to force matters. “We will be down shortly.” The floor where his lover and his children live is above yours, he had never wanted to be too far from the Sand Snakes. Chuckling, he ends the call and smirks at you. “Will you entertain with my cum dripping from your cunt or will you clean up?” He asks. “I think I might wear your juices on my cock.”

You smirk, shifting to kneel on the bed, and you reach for him to wrap your arms around his neck. “Do you think Ellaria will wish to lick your cum from my pussy?” You hum, leaning in to kiss his jaw, “or will she want me to be clean?”

Oberyn hums, turning his head to press his lips to yours. “She knows the taste of my cum well.” He chuckles. “I know she would love to see how we taste together.”

You hum against his lips, caressing his chest, and you moan against his lips when his tongue slides into your mouth. Neither of you hear the door open but you hear Ellaria when she says “ah, what a gorgeous sight, lover.”

He smiles against your lips, his flaccid cock twitching as he thinks about what is to come. You have never had multiple partners, so it will be a treat to see if you like that.

You smirk, turning your head to look at Ellaria and gesture for her to join. “Come here.” You coo and wave her over with her lover. Ellaria kneels on the bed and you reach for her, pressing your lips to hers, your hand curling around her neck.

Oberyn groans at the beautiful sight and he feels Omar’s hand on his shoulder. Turning and pressing his lips to the other man’s easily. He has had him before and he knows you will be pleased with his cock if you take it tonight.

You moan when you pull your lips from Ellaria so you can watch Oberyn kiss the other man. His hand cupping his cheek and your stomach twists in arousal at the sight. You moan softly and watch him kiss another man. “It’s a gorgeous sight, isn’t it?” Ellaria coos in your ear and she caresses your back until she’s squeezing your ass. You nod, turning your head to press your lips back to hers, your tongue sliding against hers while you reach up to cup her breast.

Pleasure is all Oberyn ever strives for in a sexual encounter. He wants everyone to enjoy themselves. Most of all him, but right now, this is also more about you than him. To see if you are willing to slot yourself into this part of his world, to open up to the comfort that can be found in others arms and not let jealousy come between you. He breaks away from Omar’s kiss. “Ellaria.” He rasps out. “She wants you to lick my cum from her pretty little cunt.” He informs his lover.

Ellaria moans, kissing along your jaw, “you want me to lick your pussy, beautiful girl?” She coos and you nod, falling under her spell as her dark eyes burn into yours. She guides you to lay down on the bed and spreads your legs, admiring the creamy mess between your thighs, and your chest heaves in anticipation as she shifts to law down between your legs.

Omar’s hand wraps around Oberyn’s cock and he groans, making you look over at him. He flashes you a smirk and nods towards Ellaria. “She will eat your cunt while her lover sucks my cock.”

You gasp when Ellaria’s tongue slides through your folds, her moan vibrating through you and you watch Omar shift onto his knees, his hand squeezing Oberyn’s cock as he leans closer to take him into his mouth, making your husband groan. The sight has your stomach clenching and your pussy pulse against Ellaria’s tongue. “Shit.” You choke, reaching down to tangle your fingers in her hair.

Oberyn hums in pleasure and his hand cups the back of Omar’s head as he eagerly swallows down his cock. “You are a pretty sight.” He praises breathless, both to you and Ellaria and the man who is pleasuring him. “How does it feel, Dove? Knowing that a woman's tongue can know your body so well?”

You whine, tilting your head back against the mattress as Ellaria strokes your thighs, pushing them further apart. “You taste so good.” She coos and slides her tongue through your folds until she sucks your clit. You cry out and moan, back arching as you watch Oberyn take his pleasure, rocking his hips into Omar’s mouth.

Oberyn’s head tilts back, groaning loudly as he experiences the talented mouth of the other man. Only opening his eyes again so he can watch you rock your hips down onto Ellaria’s face. “You look so good like that.” He pants. “Spread out and indulgent. Both of you are so eager for more.”

Ellaria hums against your folds, moaning when you tug on her hair. She sucks on your clit a little harder and you whine, bucking your hips up into her face. She flings her arm over your stomach and Oberyn groans as he watches you. Your eyes meet his and you whimper, “so good.”

He caresses Omar’s cheek and feels where his cock makes the man’s throat bulge. “Make her cum, El.” He pants out, knowing how talented that tongue is. “Make her cum so she can taste your gorgeous cunt.”

His words send you over the edge and you cry out, thighs pressing against her head as you cum against her tongue. She moans and laps at your folds, wanting every drop, and you shake while you moan her name, your eyes closing while Oberyn watches you.

Tapping the other man’s chin, Oberyn pulls his hips back. His cock sliding out of the hot mouth that it had been buried in and he leans over to drag Ellaria up to taste you from her lips with a groan.

You watch Oberyn kiss Ellaria and you reach for Omar, pulling him close to kiss him. His hands grab your waist and he pulls you close while Ellaria and Oberyn kiss. It’s so erotic, your cunt drips despite you just orgasming from Ellaria’s tongue.

The kiss between lovers is long, easily something that could last all day. But Oberyn and Ellaria both are eager to witness the passion you share with the other man. Turning and moaning as the sight as your hand wraps around the thick cock attached to Omar’s magnificent form. “Lover, perhaps Omar should fuck her while she licks my cunt?” Ellaria moans. “I doubt you will object to filling his ass with your cock.”

Oberyn smirks, “you won’t catch me arguing about that, lover.” He coos and he reaches for you, “you want to have his cock, my wife?” He asks and you nod, “yes.” You’re breathless and you want to sample Ellaria. He chuckles and reaches out to squeeze your ass, “your wish is our command.” He winks and Ellaria shifts to lay down. You kneel on your hands and lean in to slide your tongue along Ellaria’s thigh.

Ellaria moans your name, her eyes sliding closed and there is a very pleased smirk on her face. As if this is the outcome she had been anticipating. “Gorgeous.” Oberyn coos as Omar pumps his cock and shuffles behind you. “Fill my wife with your cock and I’ll prep you to take mine.” He grunts. “She will experience the force of both of our thrusts.”

When Omar starts to enter you, you whimper against Ellaria’s skin. He’s thicker than Oberyn but not as long. You pant as he pushes into you and you let yourself stretch around him while caressing Ellaria’s thighs. When he’s fully inside you, you timidly lean down towards Ellaria’s pussy. “I, uh, haven’t done this before.” You confess and Ellaria smirks, “just do to me what you love to have done to yourself.” She instructs and you nod, leaning in to slide your tongue through her folds.

Oberyn shuffles off the bed, watching you take the other man’s cock from a different angle while he gets a bottle of lube. The sight of your tongue timidly sliding through Ellaria’s cunt is intoxicating. He grabs the bottle from the drawer and leans down, pushing his head beside yours and letting his tongue flutter alongside yours.

His tongue tangling with yours has you moaning and Ellaria pants, her fingers tangling in his hair and her hand on your neck. “Fuck.” She curses and you moan, lapping at her clit with Oberyn until he pulls away, kissing you on the cheek.

“You look so pretty like this, Dove.” Oberyn coos as he slides back behind Omar and opens the tube to squeeze some lube on his fingers. “Ellaria likes your tongue.”

Omar groans when Oberyn presses his slicked up digits against his ass and your husband chuckles at his pleasured groan when he’s not even got started yet. You lap at Ellaria’s folds, sliding down to push your tongue into her and Omar slowly rocks into you, taking one of Oberyn’s fingers inside.

Despite having fucked Omar before, Oberyn takes his time to work him open. Knowing that he needs to be stretched so he doesn’t tear. His ass is tight and he groans when the muscles clench down around his finger. Pulling back and adding more lube before working a second finger inside him. “That’s it, lover. Open up for me and you will have my cock buried in your ass soon. You’ll like that, impaled on my cock while fucking my wife. You’ll be in heaven.”

Omar moans, dropping his head as he tries to stay still. You whine against Ellaria’s folds, wanting more but he doesn’t move until Oberyn has stretched him out. You slide your tongue up to suck on Ellaria’s clit and she watches Oberyn move to lube up his cock, spreading more lube on Omar’s ass as he kneels behind him.

“Fuck.” Oberyn groans, pressing the head of his cock against the grasping ring of muscles and starts to breach the man. Sliding his hips forward until the head is inside and he hisses, sliding his hand down Omar’s back. “Start moving.” He orders the other man. “Fuck yourself back onto my cock as you fuck my Dove.”

Just his words are enough for Omar to twitch inside you but he nods, gripping your hips as he starts to move. You whine in delight, the vibrations making Ellaria moan in pleasure as you lap at her clit. It doesn’t take long for you all to have a rhythm established and you are moaning at the way Omar pushes into you.

Once Oberyn feels the way Omar is pushing back against his cock, he knows he can ramp up the pace. The man is begging for him to hammer into his pretty little ass and wreck him from the way he is squeezing his cock like a vice. Gritting his teeth, Oberyn digs his fingers into Omar’s hips and snaps his own forward harshly, making the other man cry out in pleasure as he strikes against his prostate.

Omar is pushed into you by Oberyn and in turn, you moan into Ellaria’s cunt, making her whine. The motion back and forth continues, building up as the four of you seek pleasure and pleasure from one another. It’s intoxicating and you can understand why Oberyn loves it so much.

Leaning over Omar’s shoulder to watch you and Ellaria. Loving how eagerly you are devouring his lover’s cunt. As you hear her moans, it spurs you on, wanting to hear more from her. Ellaria paws at her breasts and tugs on your hair as she rocks her hips down, greedy for your tongue. “That’s it, Dove. Devour her. Make her cum on your tongue and then that thick cock will fill your cunt. After you cream all over him.”

Oberyn’s words make you clench around Omar who hisses and bucks into you a little harder. You slide your tongue into Ellaria and you barely need to move your head, pushed into your pussy by the two men behind you.

Oberyn chuckles, continuing his harsh pace as he spears into the other man. “That’s right, fuck. All of us are going to cum. Every one of us. Ellaria is loving that tongue in her cunt, aren’t you?” He growls.

Ellaria moans and nods, tangling her fingers in your hair to push you even further into her cunt. You lap at her clit and she meets Oberyn’s eyes. “Your wife is not as innocent as she seems. She’s going to make me cum.” She confesses breathlessly and Omar feels you clench around his cock.

Oberyn’s filthy chuckle is low, heated. “Good girl, Dove.” He praises. “Make her cum. Show her how filthy you can be. Cum on Omar’s cock. Fuck, you fit in so well. We will all fuck you until you are covered in cum. Until you are full.” He rambles as he plows into Omar, so incredibly turned on by how erotic his once prudish seeming wife is being right now. “Fuuuuuck.”

Oberyn’s words have your cunt fluttering around Omar’s cock but you want Ellaria to cum first. You suck on her clit and snake your hand along her thigh until you are pushing two digits into her weeping pussy. She cries out and you moan victoriously when she clamps down on your fingers and her back arches.

Ellaria cumming is always a beautiful sight. The gorgeous woman is enthralling when she shakes in pleasure and it’s made even more intoxicating by the knowledge that you made her cum. His wife devours her cunt like you are born to do it and makes his lover cry out in bliss, making him think that this could be a regular occurrence.

You work her through it, making you moan into her folds until she’s pushing your head away. You whine but Omar’s hands grab your tits, squeezing them, and you are sent closer to your orgasm. His hips hit your ass and you whimper when he gets the angle just right. “That’s it baby. Cum for us.” Ellaria coos, watching your face.

Oberyn can tell from the way your breaths are catching in your chest that you are about to cum. You must be squeezing Omar’s cock because the other man’s ring of muscles is pulsing around his cock. “She’s close.” He bites out.

Your hands grip Ellaria’s as she coos to you, “cum for us, lover.” You whine, squeezing your eyes shut, and you gasp when you feel Oberyn’s fingers rubbing your clit. You are pushed over the edge and moan your husband’s name as you fall apart on another man’s cock.

Oberyn twitching inside you, the pressure against Omar’s prostate makes the other man cry out. His hips lurch forward and he starts to throb. Painting your walls with ropes of sticky cum while his puckered hole spasms around your husband’s cock.

You pant, collapsing forward and Omar follows you, Oberyn shifting his knees to follow and you moan when his hand squeezes your hip while he fucks Omar harder, making the man inside you twitch despite his softening cock. “Fuck. Cum for me, baby.” You demand and Ellaria smirks, “cum for your wife, lover.”

You are pressed under the weight of the other man and Oberyn doesn’t hold back. Pounding into Omar to make the man wail in pleasure as his orgasm is pushed past the point of overwhelming. Hisses out your name as he drives into the tight hole again and again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He roars, pushing deep and flooding the man’s ass with his cum. Panting as he works himself through the intense pleasure.

You sigh, Ellaria stroking your hair as you relax under the weight of the men. It’s blissful and something you never imagined before. Omar pulls out of you as he’s soft and you shuffle up to lay beside Ellaria, turning your head to capture her lips while you spread your legs to show your husband the other man’s cum inside of you.

“Fuck.” Even though he hasn’t caught his breath, after pulling out of Omar, Oberyn ducks his head down and swipes his tongue through your cum covered folds to taste you and the other man’s combined juices.

“Fuck.” You pant, throwing your head back, and Ellaria chuckles, turning her head to pull Oberyn up so she can kiss him, wanting to sample the combination herself.

Oberyn lands next to Ellaria, tangling his tongue with hers easily and chuckling when she moans. Knowing that the other woman has become intoxicated by the taste as he has. Pulling away from his lips is a struggle but he reaches for you as well to kiss you softly, his other arm reaching for Omar to pull him closer as well. “Fuck.” He murmurs against your lips. “How do you like my way?” He asks.

You chuckle, reaching out to caress his cheek, “I love it.” You confess, “I want to do this again.” You admit and he smirks, knowing he wants to do this with you too but also keep you to himself sometimes. You know he’s going to be difficult to tame but you don’t want him to be anyone but himself, even if you were bought and paid to marry him for your mother’s sake.

[arjudy224]

The Intern: Small Talk with a Dead Man

After a dramatic realization during Christmas break, Y/N has been peacefully trying to live her life without the influence of the Batfamily. One night after classes, she is visited by an old friend...

*Fluff*

Prequel: Death of a family

The Intern: Day one

The Intern: The Laughing Fish

The Intern: Busy Work

The Intern: Outreach Gala

The Intern: Teachers Pet

The Intern: Visiting an old friend

The Intern: Chemical Valley

The Intern Small Talk with a Dead Man

The Intern: Billionaire Boys Club

I shouldn't have been surprised. TV broadcasts. Google Alerts. The radio guy who complained about Gotham's newest Crime lord during my morning commute. A few local news stations dared to ask, "Is Red Hood more dangerous than the Black Mask?"

Despite all those warning signs, my heart stops when I see him again. A flash of lightning illuminates the man across from me. The signature Red Helmet drips rainwater on my ratty tan carpet. The towering man is far from the mischievous teenager I once knew. Judging by the watercolors across his knuckles, he must have driven from patrol.

From the corner of my bedroom, my phone vibrates on the nightstand. Dick's grinning face covers the screen. I hurriedly decline the call. Tim's face makes an appearance. The screen goes black. I drag my gaze back to the dead.

"Hatchling?" Jason observes motioning to Tim's contact name, "What's Damien's? Infant?"

I pause to think about it. What did I make Damien's?

"Sassy pants... with several angry emojis." I elaborate showing him the contact.

"Ahh... fitting for a child raised by assassins."

The room feels too small. Stuffy even. After years of dreaming of what I'd want to say to him, I blank. The helmet drops to the floor with a thud. His voice breaks.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know where else to go."

That breaks me out of my stupor. Crossing the room, I shush him.

"Take this jacket off before you track any more water in. My landlord is terrified of mold."

Reluctantly, he lets me peel the wet leather away from his goosebumped riddled skin. The hulking man slumps towards my touch. In the darkness, I can almost forget how long it has been.

How many nights did we do this? Bruce starting a fight. Jason sneaking in through my childhood window with a devilish grin.

"I figured I've already disappointed one father figure. Why not disappoint them both?"

The image of his charred corpse flashes in my mind. Some memories don't age well.

A well-timed thunderclap shakes me back to the present. My Jason had blue eyes.

"Go sit in the living room," I command throwing a towel in his direction, "Do you want tea?"

"Yes please." He agrees following my heels, "Do you have-"

"The usual? " I interrupt with a sly backward glance, "Who do you think I am?"

I almost blush at the look he gives me. Good God. My back turns to face him while I turn the kettle on.

Which mug do you give a dead man?

I correct myself.

Which mug do you give a crime lord?

I look past the cluster of random holiday cups to my shining star. A brand new Superman mug complete with a washable cape napkin. Water. Green Tea and chamomile bags. A little bit of honey.

While I set everything up, Jason studies the collage of photos on my wall. Some from Gotham. A mix from school. His eyes fall upon a selfie of Dick, Alfred, Barbara, and I. Encrested on the frame, it reads, "Jason Todd Memorial 2022". My throat gets tight. It seems so meaningless now. Leaning against the kitchen counter, I analyze the man. The new uniform is much more outwardly utilitarian than his Robin costume. No more shorts. The guns are new. He had set a few in a cluster on the coffee table. Jason takes a postcard from the collage in his hands.

"George Clooney?" He muses turning over the card, "Dick always had a flair for the dramatics."

"It runs in the family," I retort setting down his mug on the table.

As I draw near, he smiles at the choice of mug.

"I didn't realize that you picked sides."

"Alfred sent it to me as a peace offering," I shrug.

I motion to the brown patched-up couch. Jason eagerly reclines. His body stiffens at the strange lumps towards the center.

"Courtesy of Ma Kent," I joke, "I'm convinced she lined it with kryptonite, so Clark wouldn't jump on it."

Rubbing his sore shoulders, Jason grimaces sitting up.

"Well, I'm sure this is the only couch that could cause the Man of Steel back pain."

Sitting next to the sweaty young man, I sip on my own tea. The bitterness of the green tea grounds me to the present.

"Do you want to talk about what happened in Gotham tonight?" I question glancing at the freshly bandaged cuts on his arms.

He shakes his head grimacing at the memory. New City. New topics.

Grabbing the remote, I start, "What are you feeling tonight? I've been aching to rewatch "You're Next" for a while."

He eyes me with playful suspicion. Jason folds his arms behind his head.

"What? I've always found scary movies comforting after a long day."

"Like the way you find Ma Kent's Couch to be comfortable?" He teases fidgeting with the coarse fabric of the homemade pillow.

The random stains make him raise an eyebrow. Thunder shakes my apartment.

"It's an acquired taste." I reply pulling the pillow flush against my chest, "Besides, horror is the only genre where your anxiety is always right, but the horror never stays for too long. It’s nice to see the Protagonists survive to the end of their story."

For a moment, he looks like my Jason again. The slight bruising around his left eye causes him to squint ever so slightly, but he flashes me an amused smirk. His fixed gaze never leaves my face. I start to sweat. What if he thinks of me differently? Five years is a long time. We've both changed.

"You watch too many movies." He remarks offering me half of the blanket.

I snuggle close allowing myself to enjoy this moment. A flash of lightning illuminates the small TV screen.

"That is probably true." I reply lying my head on his shoulder.

The exhaustion of the day compounds until the opening credits fade into black.

Taglist: @nosyrobin,@jjsmeowthie.@epicy0n,@gaychaosgremlin,@rory-cakes,@luna-zendra-star,@b4tm4nn,@anuttellaa,@chibiduck

[orleans-jester]

Better than her dreams.

It was high praise, but she meant it.

“And you absolutely did help,” Maddy nodded to her husband. He had gotten a good start, and honestly, given him, it seemed a bit incredible that he had thought about the details such as warm clothing. Though maybe not super surprising, since he had lived on the streets during cold snaps. “And I appreciate it, baby.”

Christmases in Paris - how life had changed for them so much over the last couple of years. No more waking up in the morning in her pure white bedroom and knowing exactly what she was going to get because her parents, especially her father, had no real imagination and would just get her whatever she asked for. Which in a way was nice but it didn’t make Christmas exciting. And no more did she have to sit there and watch Pierre go through the presents that he got from all of his lovers, all smug, forgetting who was who, being disgusting. Tredging through the family dinners which were usually made by a private chef because Esmeralda was too busy ‘being merry’ to cook. She much pregerred their more low-key Christmas mornings in extravagant places. Getting gifts that were thought about, considered by cherished friends. Being surprised by her husband every year with his own amazing gifts. And spending it with their own daughter. Their flesh and blood, who would never grow up with the Christmas’s that ‘Agnes’ had. No Ma’am.

It was this kind of excitement, this kind of change that made her all the more grateful for Bastien. From the outside looking in, it might have seemed like she had changed his life more than he had with her. He didn’t have to worry about being homeless or finding a meal. He could do whatever he wanted. But he had changed her for the better in so many ways, and it was that conviction that she had put into those words, swear and all.

“What can I say, you bring the spirit out of me,” She giggled. No, she didn’t swear that much but when she was feeling passionate like this, she threw caution to the wind. She wouldn’t even be mad if it was one of the words that Frankie would pick up. He had the spirit in him too, yelling that they were in love and she repeated it like a wolf howl. “I love this man!”

You and everyone else. That made Maddy blush, that Delta had yelled down, but it was true, wasn’t it? Everyone was in love. Delta and Frank. Maddy and Bastien. Thomas and Valerie. There were a lot of couples at that Halloween party. And even those that didn’t have the romantic love, Willem and Figaro. There was still love all around. She couldn’t stop smiling. Not for an instant.

“Damn right we do,” She agreed with her husband, nuzzling her nose against his as it started to get pink from the chill in the air.

She made herself a snow angel, even raising her arms carefully and pressing her hands into the snow to try to make a line above her head, for a halo. It reminded her of Halloween, many years ago, when she had been truly reckless for the first time in her life, gone out as an angel, and did basically everything her father had told her never to do. Partied with strangers. Took weird pills. Got put into the drunk tank. And she had enjoyed the hell out of it.

“Oh, that’s brilliant,” She said, with wide eyes as Bastien just kept coming up with good idea after good idea. “We can tie a rope to a tube, use it to push her around in the snow, she’d love that, wouldn’t you?” She turned her head to look over at her little snow angel beside her which Bastien was helping her make. It may have been cold outside, but inside, she was melting.

“That’s our angel,” She agreed, taking hold of Bastien’s hand to get up and look at their work. Three angels, side by side. “I wonder if there’s a way to make snow reapers,” She hummed, knowing that Bastien would probably love that idea. And then she got excited again. “We can build one! We can make snowmen, snow-women, snow reapers, all of it, a whole family like ours!”

Then she looked into his blue eyes more seriously. “I don’t know how you managed to get all of this done-” And by that she meant somehow convince Elsa to do this for him, and convince Frank and Delta to let it happen on their land. “- but you’re absolutely magic baby. This has been my favourite year ever.”

Better than her dreams ever made it seem?

"Wow. I did do good." Oh boy was he smiling then. She couldn't have said anything better to have boosting this man's confidence. He'd never forget those words.

"I was trying to help." He definitely didn't think of all the details, but he tried. Maddy had already listed out items he did not pack. She was still going to have to work her wonders, but he gave it a kick start. "I knew I should have left it to you. At least you have to do less." That's how he saw it, trying to relieve her of some of the burden.

Maddy had this way of sounding French, Parrie. Parrie. "Yes, Parrie!" Bastien got excited. She sounded native and elite romantic not like an American putting on airs for fun. Even her voice was beautiful.

"Mine too." He'd agree after she helped him up out of his snow angel. It wasn't warped at all.

Then she took him by both hands and, "W-w-woah." His voice stuttered from the cold he wasn't accustomed to, but it might as well have been from shock. "You don't cuss a lot. So, you're really trying to make sure I know you mean it." Even that felt extra sexy somehow. Who knew the snow was going to bring that out in her? Not Bastien. He stood in awe of her emphasis.

"I fucking love you too." Then he yelled out, "We're both fucking in love!" He yelled it at the top of his lungs like he was on a rooftop and not at the bottom a snowbank.

He'd hear Delta yell down from the top of her tower, "You and everyone else!"

This only made him laugh all the more, so happy in the moment. "But we count the most." He said to Maddy knowing they were damn special, or Delta and Frank wouldn't let them live there.

He started to look around for something to use as a sled when Maddy kerplopped down for her own snow angel. Her nose was already pinking.

"What about the beach stuff? The inner tubes or little rafts?"

Then the moment Maddy thought of showing Frankie how to make a snow angel Bastien bent down to his knees to lie her down in the white fluff. She'd lay there clueless not knowing what was going on. Then Papa Bear would reach down and move her arms up and down and legs up and down. Each action made the little toddler giggle.

"I'm drawing a halo over hers." He used his index finger to draw an oval over her head in the snow. "Now she's really our angel. See?"

He went over to reach for Maddy's hand to help her up from her own after picking the toddler up to show their handiwork.

[biaonww]

"anaheim" satoru gojo based • open ending

may contain errors, similar content is coincidental.

ps. hi!! i know it's been a long time. this will be my first ever post in 2025, so i hope this hits well </3. i have so much stories in my notes app js sitting there, but i'm too scared it won't do good. also, listen to this with anaheim by niki. / sad beautiful tragic by taylor swift

winter has come already.

but everything feels so heavy. the only thing here heavy is your heart? maybe the only thing cold here is yourself, aching to be in his embrace? or is it the baggage you hold as you enter japan again, and acceptance of everything?

for 6 years, your dreams have always been weird. all your demons look like him. feel like him too.

in dreams, you meet him in warm conversations, but wake in lonely beds. in different cities.

time is taking it’s sweet time to erase him.

winter feels so much colder now.

climate is really confusing, isn’t it? It’s unexpected; you don’t know if the signals are true. but—

— you guess you can correlate climate to a relationship with gojo satoru, yeah?

you really can’t stop seasons changing, just like people.

you and satoru were both far too young to be forced into an arranged marriage. being freshly eighteen, barely out of high school, it hadn’t and wouldn’t be a good time.

so when satoru had the chance to divorce, he signed the paper without blinking.

and when that happened, you decided to go with your parents. to america.

maybe it was because the thought of being in japan haunted you. it haunted you by having all these memories in different places with the ghost who was still in your heart.

now though, years later, you’ve both smartened and become more mature. but sometimes, the thought ponders in both of your minds. what could’ve been if he had said no when he had divorced you? could he have grown to love you? could he have fulfilled the dreams the both of you had?

“do you actually hang out in fishy bars like this when you have time?” the white-haired man asks you, taking the seat next to you.

“… how’d you know where I was? how’d you know i came back here in japan?” you turn to face him, knowing that you could recognize his voice from a mile away. you didn’t even need to look, because you can recognize that voice that would always whisper sweet nothings into your ear. but hence, you take a sip out of your drink.

"i have my ways," he says a little way too soon, taking his sunglasses off. he's still got that little smile on his face, the one that says, 'i know too much'. for a while, he just observed you silently. he’s taking in the sight of you after all these years, trying to compare the you now to the you then. well, the years have been nice to you.

“you aren’t answering my question, though,” he eventually speaks, leaning against the bar. “which is becoming a little suspicious.”

“why do i have to answer, hm? we don’t know each other. we’re just strangers who knew each other’s past,” you remarked, taking another sip out of your drink, tracing small shapes on the table. he notices you still have the attitude of acting fine, but your actions give everything away.

but he knows why you have a wall built. you’re too scared of being vulnerable again to him. he brought you damage and ran away from all the debris he left behind.

“we’re not strangers,” he protests, the statement coming out bitter. be sounds more biting, more serious. a farcry from the satoru you knew.

“we were married,” he says, and his eyes are locked on yours, unflinching, “and we dated. we knew each other's pasts, present, and futures. even if it’s been years, we’re nowhere near strangers.”

“well, we were wrong about our future, were we not?” it feels weird, having to ask so many questions about life. your life. the life you pinned for.

…

and you can clearly make out how his face hardens, his jaw clenched. his hands were gripping the cloth of the table, knuckles white, as he struggles to keep that smile on his face. the carefree smile he once had.

“that’s a cruel thing to say,” he says, his voice still controlled, “but if you’d rather be cruel and cold to me rather than have a conversation, then i won't stop you. you’ve clearly become accustomed to the cold since we last spoke.”

“well, fuck—fine. let’s cut to the chase. so I'm going to ask you once more.”

“Why are you at a place like this?” and what’s going on? why are you in japan again?”

“i needed a drink. and i came back to pick up a few documents,” you say, continuing to be silent, but nevertheless, you still have the guts to look at him, which is surprising, because it hurts to look at him.

he tries to study you for a moment. it’s obvious he’s trying to pick apart your expression, trying to read the emotions on your face. you know he’s always been perceptive, almost scarily so, but there really is a difference between the boy you knew and the man now, staring at you.

“documents for what?” he asks, his eyes narrowing.

“to move to switzerland,” and you simply reply by telling the truth; after all, what is there to hide anymore?

“… move?” he says suddenly. the news clearly shocks him, and satoru’s face falls from the ‘emotionless’ composure it held mere seconds ago.

“switzerland? you’re moving to europe… ”

it’s as if every thought from that moment on just… stops. nothing goes through his head. he’s speechless.

“yeah. i’ve always wanted to go and live there anyway. it’s always been a dream to.”

“but that's…” he stops short, shaking his head and glancing down, facing the floor.

“that’s far away,” he says, almost as if he’s just now realizing that fact. satoru takes a moment to let it sink in, and when he looks back up at you, that cool, calm persona is gone. all that’s there is a man who can’t fathom the woman he once loved leaving the country.

“why?” you can hear the ever-so-little hint of desperation in his voice. “you can’t just leave.”

he looks at you more intently than he’s looked in quite a while. “what does switzerland have that japan doesn’t?”

“i thought you were just temporarily staying in america too. what happened to that?”

“well, it’s the country we wanted to settle down in. but i'll be the one settling there now,” you say in a quiet tone, avoiding looking at him now. it feels so scary, having to speak to a person who knows… or used to know you so dearly. having to speak to a person who used to memorize every single imperfection about you, the small wrinkles on your forehead, the things you like.

but those words that you said hits the both of you like a ton of bricks. the two of you can still clearly remember the plans you would used to make together. to get a cabin with a garden, surrounded by mountains and snow and wildlife, and to have kids together. his, yours, their own little family, far away from the hustle and bustle of the city.

he’s completely lost for words for a moment. you’re taking the future that once belonged to the both of you and making it your own.

“you’re making a mistake,” he says, the first words out of his mouth. the way he says it is almost harsh, coming out far more brusque than he’d been intending, but satoru is a little too deep now.

“you should stay here. you’re not going to find anything any better over in europe. you’re just going to—“

“you’re just going to be lonely there, i know it. i know you,” he says, his voice lower now, almost pleading.

the man shakes his head, “there’s no way you’re going to be happy over there. you’d… you’d regret it.”

but how can he say that? He makes you feel so lonely. but yet, his love is the one you used to crave. or still crave…?

“you already make me feel lonely, ‘toru. how do you know that?” you scoff, your eyes starting to become slightly teary.

“i—" he falters, taking a second before he speaks again. “when have i ever let you feel lonely?”

“when you left me, when you said i was too much to handle,” you huff and call the waiter to pay for your drink, starting to get up to leave as you continue to try and hold your tears in.

“i guess you really proved that i wouldn't be a good wife, no? were you so scared that you’d lose your future because i was holding you down?” you laugh bitterly and arrive at the exit of the bar.

“i was too young to handle you,” he remarked suddenly, catching your wrist before you could get away. but he doesn’t pull you back to the seat; he just holds you in place. at this point, he’s desperate to keep you in place, not to let the same mistake happen twice. satoru swallows down the knot in his throat.

“that—“ he starts, and his voice almost sounds pleading, “…that was years ago. we're… we’re not kids anymore.”

he steps closer to you, and you don’t know if you should back up. because you can either embrace the warmth of him again in this cold, winter night—or leave.

you’d give up anything to stop time and stay. beg for a proper reason why he did that. but you aren’t even sure you can commit to him, and not crimes.

but in his head, he’s scared you’re going to disappear. again. after asking multiple friends of yours how you were, or where were you now, how could he lose the chance of you all over again?

“i was wrong for leaving you,” he says, the words coming out shakily. “i am wrong for letting you just walk out of my life… not once, but twice.” his voice takes a softer tone when he speaks next, “don’t leave me again. please don’t leave me again. take me with you.”

“my body, my soul, and my heart are all yours. you have bewitched my whole being, and that alone has become my weakness, (name).”

and now you’re left to wonder, how does one know somewhere is home? because deep in your heart, you know satoru gojo owns your youth.

he is your home. he is the one you want to come home to, when you don’t know where to go.

but are you sure you want to take that path on the way home again?

— fin. (for now)

i know that this isn't bluelock content but i've been more associated with the jjk fandom as of now, so i have more drafts of jjk characters :^ ... but if you guys are fine with that, plz lmk so i can post more frequently <3

likes reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated ^__^

[maroonpascal]

I can see you - chapter 1

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: reader and Joel don’t know each other, but Mother Nature has other plans: you’re now both stuck at the same hotel because of a snow storm. Shameless, not veiled at all, teasing entails.

Words count: 2.3k

Warnings: no outbreak!fic, age gap (at least 20 years), pet names (darling, sweetheart, etc.), no other particular warnings for this chapter.

Notes: I don’t know how many chapters this fic is gonna have, let’s just go with the flow ❄️ this chapter is pure teasing, from both reader and Joel, laying the ground for what’s gonna happen next 👀

“Hold on, what do you mean all the roads are blocked?”

You had gone to sleep the previous night with some snowflakes landing on the window of your room, having watched them deposit on the trees outside, thinking how good it would have been in the morning to wake up to that heaven covered in soft white snow, but your dream is now turning into a nightmare.

“It snowed way more than expected,” the receptionist explains to you from behind their desk, “And unfortunately there’s been an avalanche that is currently blocking the main roads, and with the weather even worsening it won’t be possible to leave.”

You take a glance at the weather outside from the big windows of the hall, tall white layers covering the cars parked outside like heavy blankets and the street leading to the hotel now a a never ending white carpet, not even recognisable; it looks like Mother Nature has no idea to stop anytime soon, as snowflakes twirl with the wind that is picking up more and more. One way or another you would remain blocked at the airport with this weather, and even though in some rom-coms people find the love of their lives in that situation, that is surely not what you want to do. So it is better to be stuck at a hotel with all the comforts.

It is also a relief to know that you won’t have to pay for the day (or even, plural, days) that you will have to spend here as the hotel has offered to cover the rooms for the people who are now stuck, considering also that is low season in a not so known area.

That had been the reason to actually pick this location among the mountains, camera always with you as you shot the most amazing photos during the whole week: flowers, trees, and blue skies, birds curiously approaching your camera and even a deer family. Naturalist photography has been in your life for a while now, loving how it has led you to the most breathtaking places, from crystal clear waters to icy landscapes, from sand winds to humid forests; now instead it has led you to being stuck in a hotel but, as they say, there is always a first time.

You would have gone back to your room to pick the luggage, but as of now, it won’t be needed anymore, and really you don’t want to spend the day closed in there, so you glance at the couches in the hall, thinking that at least you could get some work done and make a good usage of this forced free time. You open your bag and take out your laptop and camera, turning both of them on, now sitting at one of the couches, your devices on the coffee table; there aren’t many people, the hotel is actually quite empty given the period of the year and it is quiet, any kind of noise muffled by the snow outside.

The laptop is taking a little longer to load the editing program and you let your look wander in the room, your eyes catching that man with the silver beard; you’ve seen him some other times, he had arrived a couple days later than you, and most of the times you have encountered him in the early morning, when you would go out to take photos in the morning light. It doesn’t look like he’s with anyone else, and for a moment you wonder what an handsome man like that is doing all alone in this forgotten place among the mountains. All you have exchanged with him is some “good morning”, but that was enough to look at him a little longer each time, that deep voice having caught your attention, just like that peppered hair, brushed by the silver. Your look lingers a little too long on him now, forgetting about the whirring of your laptop, and maybe it is too much because he looks back at you, your breath stopping for the way he looks like he’s having eyes for you and you only, wanting to read all the thoughts crossing your mind.

He waves a hand at you, his other hand holding a glass of what looks like whisky, even though it is barely 9 am; you hesitantly wave back, feeling your cheeks becoming warmer as he gets up and looks like he’s coming your way.

“May I?” He asks, as he’s gesturing at the couch in front of yours, the words dying in your throat as you take a better look at him, broad shoulders to die for.

“Yes, of course.” You remember how to put a word in front of the other, your brain wanting to just admire that man in silence, wanting to take in as many details as possible.

And instantly you feel his perfume washing over you, tobacco and definitely whisky, with a hint of mint; you breathe it in deeply, thinking that is the closer you will ever get to that handsome man, a little hope inside of you that maybe, just maybe, you will get to know him thanks to the universe keeping you here.

“Can I offer you somethin’?” He lets out, rising a bit his glass, the caramel coloured drink swinging in it.

“Too early for me, it’s whisky right?” You guess, tilting your head at the glass.

He titters, cracking a smile, “Yeah, ‘s keeping me warm.”

I know two or three, or a hundred ways that will keep you warm too, you think, and you shift in your seat trying to shake away that thought, even though it is a hard job to do while you have those magnetic brown eyes looking at you, making you melt.

“You had to leave today too?” You suppose, him nodding as he sips on his drink, “Yeah, but it doesn’t look like it’s happenin’ soon.” He glances at the windows, and your look falls on his hand holding the glass, big and strong, with those veins that you would love to trace. Get it together, you say to yourself.

“Professional photographer?” His eyes scanning the objects on the coffee table, tipping his glass in the direction of the camera; you nod, your eyes now on your laptop checking how some photos are still loading.

“Naturalistic photographer,” you answer, finding it a good distraction from your thoughts, “Want to see some photos?”

Usually you wouldn’t be having this kind of conversation with a complete stranger, but you admit to yourself that there is nothing you wouldn’t do to keep this man close to you and to have his attention, as there is something about him that made you weak since the first time you saw him.

You turn the laptop so that he can see the photos too, your fingers tapping on the mousepad to go through them.

He stares in awe at screen, “Wow, these are gorgeous!” He beams, and you tuck your hair behind your ear, getting compliments over your photos always has the same effect on you, making you feel proud of yourself and flattered.

“I got out of the hotel when it was still dark in the morning to catch this one,” you explain, as on the screen there is the photo of a sunrise, the sun between the mountains, the snow on them brushed in orange light, the sky behind all bathed in peach shades, “It was worth it, uh?”

“Yeah, all the insane hours and all the miles walked, it’s always worth it, a lot.”

You’re still tapping the mousepad to show him more photos, when a photo of you shows up, you gasping as you didn’t want to actually show that one.

A couple of days before, it was weirdly a warmer day and after walking a lot, you had encountered a brook, crystal and cold water rushing and you wanted to take a photo of yourself on the edge of it, portraying the little waterfall just nearby in the picture too. You had settled the camera, but as you went to lay on the edge you had slipped, actually ending in the low water of the creek. The camera was on time lapse mode so it shot everything, but actually you had deleted all of that, keeping though one photo of yourself with that white t-shirt sticking to you as you posed in front of the camera, keeping your wet hair up with your hands. Usually you wouldn’t portray yourself, but you thought that it was a fun thing and actually didn’t plan on posting it anywhere nor use it in any project.

And yet now, this unknown man has seen it, his eyes laying on your body. He scans the photo, and yes the landscaping is very beautiful, but that t-shirt leaving so little to the imagination is even more aesthetically pleasing, a treat he was not expecting.

“Oops sorry, this one is not very… professional, I slipped into the water and-”

“And you looked gorgeous, so why not?” His husky voice reaches you, finishing his drink and placing it on the table, and for some reason you don’t seem able to go on with the photos, stuck at his words and actually wanting him to see you.

You’re covered by a thick hoodie and jeans at the moment, and that photo is a nice contrast, to let him see how you actually look without some layers.

“Did I?” You tease, a little teasing never killed nobody, or whatever they say, you think.

“Yeah,” he toys with the glass, “I mean look at you,” he utters, glancing at both the laptop and you seating in front of him, “The landscape is sure great, but you’re more stunning.”

“Well, thank you Mr….” you leave the words hanging, him leaning his hand forward for you to shake it, “Miller, Joel Miller.”

His hand is strong just like you imagined it as you shake it, telling him your name; it is calloused and so much bigger than yours, feeling it being even rough against yours.

“Took that photo alone or…?”

“Yeah, self-timer and time lapse, I mostly travel alone for my photos.” And there is a way in which he lights up knowing that you’re alone that makes you bite your lip.

“I suppose you’re alone too here?” You suggest, playing with a lace of your hoodie, twirling it around you finger; you’re testing the waters, and him nodding makes you just as happy, even though you don’t openly say it.

“I come here for the hiking paths every year, not expecting for much to happen, just an easy weekend and a little getaway, this time instead…” his eyes linger on you, “I would have never thought of the weekend taking an unexpected twist and encountering… you.”

“Well, I’m sure that you’re not always alone, are you?” Your tone changing, forgetting about the friendly and casual conversation, becoming more lavish, wanting him to know that you have laid your eyes on him since the first time you saw him crossing the sliding doors of the hotel.

He lightly laughs, “I’m way more lone wolf than what you think, darlin’ ”, which makes you raise your eyebrows, “Really, Mr. Miller? I find it hard to think no one has kept you warm during these weekends.”, your voice like honey now, “A smooth man like you all alone? If it is true, it’s a pity.”

“You know…” He leans forward, towards you, now being closer to you since you were crouched on the laptop, “When I saw you for the first time I didn’t think you could be such a tease, sweetheart.”

The fact that he’s switching to pet names so quickly is really what you wanted, to see him admitting too to have laid his eyes on you.

“Oh there are many surprise about me, Mr. Miller,” and he hangs from your lips, like hypnotised, “This photo,” you glance at the laptop, “... is just the tip of the iceberg, I’m much more than that, and I’m far from being the innocent girl you think I am.”

He smirks, and you think game on.

“The nature is on our side, locking us inside this hotel? You could have all the time to show me how wrong I was.” Words rolling off his tongue in a way that is sending sparkles all down your spine.

“Oh I will, Mr. Miller.” You keep calling him by his surname, loving how it feels on your tongue and how he reacts to it, completely under you spell, pupils dilating at those words; you brush your fingers on his, still wrapped around that cold glass, getting dangerously closer to his ear. “I will prove you so wrong.”

He sighs, his beard scratching on your face, the tobacco and whisky filling your nose, inhaling his perfume in.

“And I can assure you that I would keep you warm, so warm, Mr. Miller.”

He shuts his eyes for a moment, and you can tell he’s gonna lean into that touch, but that is not what you have on your mind, you want to have a little more fun with all the teasing.

You pull away, “Just not right now, lone wolf.” You devilishly say, his lips parted as he’s about to say something; you close the laptop and take your stuff in your arms, “To await a pleasure, is itself a pleasure.” You quote one of your favourite phrases, thinking that it is so fitting right now.

You leave him like that, and if you looked back at him you would see his eyes following you and land on your legs hugged in those jeans, leaning back into the couch, left just with the coldness of the glass and only whisky on his mouth.

[crownmemes]

Pretentious & Poetic Sentences, Vol. 10

(Pretentious sentences from various sources for muses that like to speak in grandiose sentences. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"How many scattered corpses will you leave in your bloody wake before your life has run its course?"

"I want to liberate your truest self: the beast that prowls around your heart."

"What would we not to do defeat death?"

"We've all done things to survive. There are such sins on my back it would kill me to turn around."

"I think that time can only be fully understood by an observer with a godlike gift of infinite regression."

"They say that a man is never so weak, so defenceless against suffering, as when he is in love."

"Evil only attacks where there's a soul that's vulnerable."

"There is prodigious strength in sorrow and despair."

"The arrow of time points in one direction."

"Death can be a sublime experience."

"I'm not the man you knew. There's blood on my teeth, and in my soul, I think."

"I am not a creation of the antique pastoral world. I am modernity personified."

"The heaviness you're carrying has its own gravitational pull."

"Every Caesar must have his Brutus."

"There is a time for truth and a time, not for lies, but for silence."

"How many thousands of years has man been living an illusion?"

"Death may beget life, but oppression can beget nothing other than itself."

"You pass yourself off as a puppy in a raincoat, happily running around the yard, digging holes in the garden. Only, you're laying a minefield, not wagging your tail."

"What is a ghost? Is it a presence that prowls our bed chambers when we turn down the lights? Or is it a memory that roams the dark corridors of our mind?"

"It is often when one least expects it that fate arrives at our door. We can't foresee it any more than we can escape it. No matter how hard we run or hide, fate, like death, will always find us."

"The winner in all wars decides the truth."

"Because I murder with will and not like a blind animal, you think me a monster. Yet, how many corpse have you left in your wake?"

"We all dream of being a child again, even the worst of us. Perhaps the worst most of all."

"How did I miss the moment that you sold your soul?"

"No one can change a story once it's been told."

"It's one thing to yearn for something, but quite another to find the strength to achieve it."

"Kindness is hypocrisy."

"You have no sense of the terrors I will bring onto you."

[t00tsmcgee]

Rook as a Companion Banter Episode One: Neve

Not sure how many of these I will do but I wrote a BUNCH of banter with every companion for my own writing challenge so y'all are just gonna have to bear with me or block the tag 'Rook companion banter'

Part One (Neve)| Part Two (Bellara)

Little backstory for this character. His name is Calais Ingellvar, he's a Mournwatcher, and is referred to as a spirit guide, granted the power of a spirit of Mercy who saved him when he was just a baby, before he was found by Vorgoth in the Necropolis.

Cal has the ability to reach into the veil and speak with spirits as if they're standing right there, without them manifesting. He's also a very talented healer due to his empathetic abilities. His left leg was severely injured in the same attack that prompted the spirit of Mercy to save him as an infant, and the injury never healed right. He walks with a cane/staff to help him get around better. He has two pet rats, and is romantically interested in Lucanis.

If you want more details, he has a whole post to himself here!

-

Calais: “Neve, how about a game?” Neve: “A game? What sort of game?” Calais: “Two truths and a lie. I tell you three things and you have to pick out which is the lie. I played it with Vorgoth all the time.” Neve: “Alright, should be fun.” Calais: “You should be good at this, by all accounts. Being a detective and all.” Neve: “We’ll see if you’re good at lying or not.” Calais: “Oh no, I’m awful. Vorgoth used to beat me at it all the time.”

Neve: “I once solved a case involving a dowager, a dog and a drug dealer.” Calais: “Sure.” Neve: “I only ever eat fried fish.” Calais: “Problematic, but continue.” Neve: *light chuckle* “I like reading historic novels.” Calais: “Ohh, I don’t know. The first one is true?” Neve: “It is.” Calais: “I haven’t seen you read any novels since we got to the Lighthouse.. but I’ve also not seen you eat anything other than fried fish.” Neve: “So which will it be?” Calais: “I’m going with the fish one isn’t true. At least I hope it’s not.” Neve: “You got it. I also eat vegetables. Sometimes.” Calais: “Well, thank the maker for that.”

Neve: “I like to play chess.” Calais: “Oh are we playing again? Hit me.” Neve: “I once staked out a case for a full two weeks.” Calais: “Right.” Neve: “Maybe I don’t hate that Lucanis is introducing me to a richer and more varied diet.” Calais: “Honestly, me too. He is a very good cook.” Neve: “He is.” Calais: “I say the stake out is fake.” Neve: “Right again. I must not be very good at lying.” Calais: “This one was easy. I’ve seen you play chess with yourself and others. And I see you gorging on Lucanis’ food every day.” Neve: “What can I say? It’s good.” Calais: “It is.”

Calais: “I have a spirit grandma.” Neve: *laughing* “What?” Calais: “My father is some kind of eldritch creature potentially thousands of years old.” Neve: “I think I see what’s happening.” Calais: “I once spoke to Andraste herself in a dream.” Neve: “Ohh, this one is hard! I don’t know. The second one is true for sure. The first one could very well be true… but the third one happened to me as well. Hmm..I’m going to go with the first one isn’t true.” Calais: “Is that your final answer?” Neve: “Well that doesn’t bode well. Is the first one true?!” Calais: “Yes it is. Her name is Nana.” Neve: “And the dream of Andraste?” Calais: “It wasn’t a dream. I accidentally took some of Myrna’s special incense and burned a little too much of it. It was.. enlightening.” Neve: “Damn, got me on a technicality!”

Neve: “So what did Andraste say to you? When you burned Myrna’s incense?” Calais: *laughing* “It wasn’t anything interesting, I assure you.” Neve: “Well, I asked, didn’t I?” Calais: “You did. Very well, if you must know, she told me about the dangers of not washing behind your ears before she morphed into a giant mushroom.” Neve: *Snort* “Did she really?” Calais: “She made a very pretty mushroom.” Calais: “I killed a man in cold blood.” Neve: “Confessing your crimes in front of a detective?” Calais: “I grew up lonely and ostracized because I’m weird and don’t fit.” Neve: “Cal..” Calais: “I don’t hate myself for the simple fact I can’t keep up.” Neve: “Let’s not do this.” Calais: “Depression’s one hell of a thing.” Neve: “Now that one I know is true.”

Calais: “Did you eat my chocolate raisins?” Neve: “Oh, those were yours? Sorry.” Calais: “It’s alright. I took some of your anise flavoured treats instead.” Neve: “I thought some were missing. I guess we’re even then.” Calais: “I also took some fish for my rats.” Neve: “Well I knew about that one from the smell.” Calais: *chuckle* “Can’t keep anything hidden from our detective it seems.”

[fcdcdmcmories]

"... YEAH. I KNOW. DOESN'T MEAN THAT OTHER PEOPLE DO, THOUGH." shaking his head. maybe, she had learned it, but.. did it mean that other people were going to stop coming after her? probably not and.. god, he wished that he could stop shaking, because it would make this a LOT EASIER. he didn't feel like himself. his hands were shaking, he felt fucking destroyed and god-- fuck. he didn't want to bother her with any of this. he didn't want to stand in the way and he didn't want to lose himself and above all, to lose.. this. god, her. them. "NO. YOU KNOW, WHEN I WAS DOWN THERE.. ALL I DREAMED ABOUT WAS YOU. that we got to have a real wedding. that i made the cake. it was.. SOMETHING." maybe it wasn't fair of him to say so, but.. right now, he had needed something to hold on to and he had a feeling that so did she. wasn't that it? "i know, i know, i.. i'm sorry. it's just that down there, they.. you have no idea of the things they said. DID. what they said that they were going to do to you." shaking his head, as he attempted to take some very deep breaths. he wasn't there anymore. he was here, with her. they were together. it was going to be okay. WASN'T IT? ".. i don't know what i believe. okay? HE HAD VOICE RECORDINGS OF YOU THAT HE WAS MORE THAN HAPPY TO PLAY FOR ME. AT A SO CALLED DATE. SAYING YOU WANTED TO GO AWAY WITH HIM. how am i supposed to feel? yes, maybe it was all a lie and god, i hope that it was, but.. but.. you don't know, okay? you. don't. know. WHAT HE DID TO ME. HOW HE GOT IN MY HEAD. IT'S LIKE I CAN STILL HEAR HIM HERE." he shook his head, attempting to brush some of the tears away. she didn't know what he had been through and what he had heard but this wasn't her fault, he knew, but.. scoffing. "because he gave a shit about that during our last talk, where he pretty much made sure i knew i was never going to be good enough for you. I DON'T NEED TO SAY WHO THAT REMINDS ME OF, DO I? he doesn't want you anywhere near me, let alone married to me. suppose he must have been real happy." pederson. how many times had he heard that coming from him, too? enough of it already. oh, now he wanted to throw his hands up. "OH, GIVE ME A BREAK. HE TOOK A LITTLE BEATING FOR HURTING SOMEONE. SO WHAT? POOR LITTLE WILL GRAHAM. while everyone was off cuddling him because of a little paper cut, you... you have no idea of what i saw down there. of what i fucking went through, because if it wasn't me? IT'D BE YOU. IT'D BE THE KID. and unlike him, who you seem to be so keen to defend? i don't sit around and let the people i love get hurt. i protect them." because if it hadn't been him, it would have been gwen. or her. or laney or evie or gabi and.. no. no. "and? don't act like we've not all lost people we love at one point. he's not fucking special. what was i to do? wait around and clap him in the back for the fact that thanks to him, i nearly had to go and tell my daughter her mother was gone? SHOULD I?" because no. no. he knew what that was like. he'd never put evie through it. shaking his head. "if he was in trouble, it's because he deserved it. WHAT KIND OF FREAK DOES WHAT HE DID TO LANEY AND JUST.. LEAVES? MAYBE IT'S TIME YOU ADMIT THAT HE'S NOT THE PERFECT FATHER FIGURE YOU'VE WANTED YOUR WHOLE LIFE. he's not even a good man. there's a reason your father loved him. maybe because he's as fucked up as finn. or worse. neither of them want you with me. surprised they haven't set you up with cooper or randolph yet. and it's fine, cee. honestly, you.. i get it. i knew. i knew what was probably happening up here. THAT YOU HAD PROBABLY MOVED ON. WITH JOE OR ANYONE ELSE, I.." he only laughed. bitterly but he did. "right. rest. when there's a chance i could wake up tomorrow and hear you were taken by them. by joe and his.. employer. NO." stubborn, maybe, but.. but.. but. WHAT ELSE COULD HE DO? / @xtinyslip

"multiple times is an exaggeration. i learn from my mistakes." she wasn't even going to get into what some of those were because she knew their time was limited. it was precious and she wanted to use it wisely. "parker, i'm already stuck with you for good… as you are me. that's how we like it. now you bring it up…" she did smile, even if she didn't feel like smiling. cecilia wasn't doing that for herself, she was doing that for him. "i do miss you cooking my favorite dishes. we never got a do over on that cake either, did we?" smiling again, and again not for herself. her lips parted, ready to argue, ready to hold his hands even tighter but she didn't. she lowered her hands, keeping the same closeness between them ; not wanting him to pull away altogether. "i won't, not if you don't want me too. you know that i'm right here." it was understandable and yet the realisation of how traumatized he was made her so damn fucking angry. honestly, how dare these people? it may not have worked in her favor that she wasn't always quick to defend herself. it wasn't that she was struggling to do so. after all, joe was full of literal shit. it was just… well, parker may not realise how much information he was providing her but she was learning as much as she could. "… now we know who apparently bugged the apartment. he has never been invited in, that doesn't mean he didn't find another way in but it wasn't with permission. you're not seriously believing any of this?" was he? because it was beginning to sound like an accusation. "… involved in hurting you? don't be outrageous. hurting you is the same as hurting me, and he knows that." honestly, the pain all merged, it all felt the same. "besides, he's been bed ridden. i don't have to defend him to you, you know he didn't do this!" no, will hadn't been behind this, she was that positive on it. on him. "she might be the mother of your kid, but she's the reason will lost his younger daughter." she should have let it go, she should have not acknowledged but it was always going to be a sore subject for cecilia. the nerves that elaine had exposed were still RAW for her as were the scars she had because of it. THIS WAS ON HER NOW? THIS WAS HER FAULT? LIKE SHE DIDN'T FEEL LIKE SHIT ENOUGH. "he required medical assistance, i knew he was in trouble. i had his location. if there was a choice? i would have been with you, wherever you were being held, giving whoever is doing this to you the worst time of their lives! me and paul have been putting every waking moment into finding you! to finding a solution for all this!" how dare he say it was otherwise? that she had made her choice? it was bullshit and she needed to be clear that it was. she did not want him thinking that of her. she actually couldn't believe he did. "you're not in any condition to be telling me what matters. you just get as much rest as donna will allow you to have, eat, build up your strength. hm? you've made it clear to me… this is urgent. YOU CAN'T WAIT." @fcdcdmcmories

[sturnioloho]

words of affirmation chrissy 4ever

[ayyponine]

not to be a milennial but harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban really is that bitch....

[boobersandstuff]

Just wanted to say, I 100% agree and also don't understand how it was homophobic. I think back then it would've been but over time & the context of how rick writes queer characters has changed so much that, you look back at that scene and you realise, damn, that's good rep right here. In my oppion anyway.

I'm happy that nico made you feel so seen because honestly I'm exactly the same! Not with the queer (I'm aroace but not a gay man) stuff, I grew up lucky that at a young age I learn what queerness was and fell in love with it! It my favourite thing, my hyperfixation for about 2 Years or so. So I never hated myself for it, but I did & do have really bad self-esteem.

Instead for a time, I had internalised abilism, wishing I wasn't autistic or adhd and instead normal. Hiding it and masking because I was so ashamed about who I was. So I can relate to nicos internalised stuff to a certain point.

I also grew up an outcast, ostrosaed, alone, lonely for my premative years. So I understand nicos trauma & stuff a lot more.

I feel so seen by him in so many ways, so while reading the sun & the star, to see that, not only does he heal & get a happy ending, he gets a boyfriend. Nico gets a special person who's always been around, it's just not until then that the universe allowed him to have him.

Honestly it just makes me so happy and seen because nicos struggles & my struggles are nearly 1-to-1. Even the ages of when our worst traumas are 1-to-1.

So to read a character who's been nothing but miserable for so long, not only heal, and get a happy ending, a special person (boyfriend in this case), makes me feel so seen because, as of Writing this, that's me. I'm in my own healing arch from the awful stuff that happened to me, I've found my special person, my friends, people who I love so much and treat me right.

It just feels so extra right for me, and I know if I had read nicos character arch back then it would've felt even better, like a hope I would get better one day and I would be happy. And I can say with full honestly, that... I did. I got better, I am better, I'm happy.

I have almost achieved all my dreams (almost), so I'm ok, and for once I mean it. So again, nico getting a happy ending while me myself having my own, feels so right and I just look back at mini me and just smile, proud of myself for sticking it through :,]

Saw this tiktok and it perfectly articulated what I've been thinking when I saw some posts on here nitpicking the comming out scene in tsats!

Like, YES!!! THANK YOU!! it was so upsetting to see that, and demigods are more atune to their mortal side rather than their godly side. They don't know wether its safe to come out to EVERYONE here. I'm sure demigods have come out to their friends in private, but definitely not the entire camp at once!

Can we celebrate character coming out scenes instead of nitpicking and getting angry because "it doesn't make any sense" or "is unrealistic" or even "not perfect". Especially with nico, when he did that, it shows just how far he's came and that he's healing and that, he's not afraid anymore, he doesn't hate himself anymore. He isn't ashamed.

After the shit-show with cupid this is a scene he more than deserved! I'll probably go more into depth in my video essay on him but yeah, he deserved that and it makes me really angry seeing people say that sort of bullshit.

Just wanted to share this :]

[girlivealwaysbean]

it should be studied the way i immediately start crying after masturbating like girl where is the serotonin i was promised

[keeps-ache]

ouuhwhuh the nectar (water) ! ohhuhuihouhuhu

...am i a fish

[zolo-san]

I know I just rambled in the tag, but if you took the time to read all that, might I direct you to this post & my ramblings there as well~

Something about Zoro being one of the most misunderstood and mischaracterized characters in One Piece is funny (not haha funny, funny sad) to me because?? That’s literally how his introduction starts?? With people misunderstanding him and thinking he’s some big, monstrous demon who kills with cause and cannot be trusted or tamed.

Meanwhile the actual Zoro is a driven guy who is often both literally and figuratively directionless in life and found his goals in life through good people (first Kuina and then Luffy). He's tied up in the Marine base not due to those actual crimes he commuted (well not inherently anyway) but because he ‘disrespected’ a Captain's son and stood up for a little girl. He accepts the challenge they present to him and because Zoro himself is a guy that puts his money where his mouth is he assumes the Marines will uphold their end of the deal and let him go (note the actual shock when Koby tells him the truth)

He joins Luffy's crew but also outright says he’s not gonna let his goal take second place to Luffy or anyone else's for that matter, he bears the weight of two people's dreams, his heart isn’t going to be swayed by some pirate.

Speaking of Kuina, her impact and influence on Zoro's life isn’t talked about enough for my liking. She was Zoro's first friend, his first rival, his first goal. He looked up to her so much and his reaction to her passing cracks my heart in half every time because you can seem him just..go numb. Kuina, dead? Kuina, the strongest person he knows, gone? Kuina, who swore to him just yesterday they’d race to the top of the world together, doesn’t exist anymore. His blank face only cracking within the privacy of his sensei before he begs. He begs on his knees, tears streaming down his face please please please let me take Kuina's sword with me. Let me take our dream to a high neither of us could imagine. I won’t let her name die here.

On top of gaining the Wado Ichimonji that day Zoro also gained…fear. Not of death, well at the very least not his own, he gained his fear of not being enough. Kuina kicked his ass every way a person could and still died, what could someone like him do? So he trains…and trains…and trains some more. Overly, obsessively, constantly telling himself he’s not enough, he’s weak, he can’t protect anyone like this and everyone's death would be on him.

As for Zoro being cold and stoic that’s just…not completely true? He’s not stone, he can be excited or sad or angry just as much as most characters he just sucks at showing it canonically (Kuina thinks he hates her before their final fight after all). Sure he’s not as forthcoming about it as some of the other Strawhats but Zoro's more of an action guy anyway, he'll show his love with his protection and unwavering faith.

In conclusion, Zoro is a ridiculously stubborn, incredibly loyal, mildly emotionally constipated, do what you say/say what you mean kinda guy.

(Also that whole ‘Zoro would kill the whole crew if Luffy asked him to’ thing? Top ten stupidest things I’ve ever heard from the fandom and that’s saying a lot. He’s loyal not brainless and heartless guys if Luffy asked him to do that, he would never but I digress, Zoro would square the fuck up with him so fast. DPMO.)