#even ELIAS admitted he was scared of her

[cult-of-the-eye]

Mag 81 A Guest for Mr Spider

FUCK FORMER HEAD ARCHIVIST

Wait I need to check the timelines - this was 2 days after leitner's death

New spooky music???

My man is so fucking dramatic I love him so much "grand of sand behind my eye" love the way he speaks

Yeah FUCK JURGEN LEITNER

Omg the greying hair is canon??

Child in the 90s makes him at most 27 GOD DAMN. I was imagining like mid 30s...can you imagine a fucking 27 yr old using words like "ilk" when talking to you

Oh shit he's an orphan poor guy

Yeah ok a lot of his personality seems to make sense if you realise he was raised by his grandma

You know those memes that are like people raised by their grandparents are exceptionally polite but in a brisk way, talk fancy and are super posh? Yeah that's him.

Getting such neurodivergent vibes

Yeah he sounds like a main character from the start Jesus Christ he's such a kid who got traumatised and then grows up to be a horror protagonist vibes

My First Leitner lol like kids had to be introduced to them at a young age like those my first toys

He's so funny I can just imagine him as an 8 yr old getting super like affronted at this like how dare my grandma think I am of subpar intelligence he's such a little bitch from the start

"The eponymous Mr spider" even talking about his childhood trauma he's busting out the vocabulary

Fuck that story actually kinda rattled me I had my hand over my mouth in shock for most of it

I think it was the bit where the horsefly brought his son and they were both crying that got me, I could definitely imagine it scaring an 8 yr old

The way it drags out as well, with the pages of the same scene it really heightens the suspense

Is his childhood bully someone we should keep track of?? Love how he says Michael probably cause he sees him as a bully lol

It's interesting how despite him bullying him (quite badly seeing as though he beat him up) he's still like yeah but he saved my life and that means he deserves to be remembered

My bro didn't save your life on purpose, he was just trying to make it worse and happened to come to a terrible fate cause of that

I guess underneath it all he was still a kid who watched someone die, knowing they'd get eaten by a fucking spider, he still held him in some regard

The way he specified the guy was his bully even after he was being eaten though lol

He was desperate to get the book back? That's a leitner thing I guess, the book makes you want to keep it so it can finish whatever it wanted to do to you

On my relisten (which I will do once I've finished the series I'm sure of it), I'll have to look out for any reaction of leitners name

I wonder why Jon didn't react more to Carlos vittery's statement, like it must've terrified him? I saw a post a while back explaining Jon's thoughts and IT WAS GENIUS it was like of course he doesn't react, he must be terrified that someone knew about his experience and somehow did this to mess with him or it was a joke and he can't let anyone know that the Head Archivist is not Good at This ugh it's so good I'll tag it if I can find it

AHHHHH HE REGRETS DISMISSING THE OTHER STATEMENTS AHHHHHH

HE FINALLY ADMITS THAT HE NEEDS HELP WE LOVE THIS CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT YES YOU FUCKING DO BITCH.

yeah at least he's right about Elias killing leitner

GEORGIE THE EX GIRLFIEND

ITS SO WEIRD TO SEE HIM ACTUALLY NICE TO SOMEONE WOW HIS VOICE CHANGES SLIGHTLY AS WELL HES LESS ACADEMIC

THE ADMIRAL

Awwww he's so cute with georgie

GHOST PODCAST GHOST PODCAST

THE WHAT THE GHOST T SHIRT IS CANON???? AHH THATS SO CUTE

Can he not go back to his own flat?? Did he bring all his clothes to the archive and then subsequently leave them there? Does he even have a flat??

God Georgie is so nice I would kill for her

It's so funny that an apparent supernatural cynic dated a ghost podcaster

WOW SEASON 3 OFF TO AN AMAZING START I CANT WAIT TO KEEP LISTENING IM GONNA TELL MY THERAPIST ABOUT THIS TOMORROW!!!

[viperixsworld]

Tales of a Baratheon in a lion's den

Sack of King's Landing

This story takes place before, during and after Robert's Rebellion, following the life of Margellyn Baratheon, lady in waiting of late Princess Elia of Dorne; sister of the future king Robert Baratheon.

Kingslayer's friend.

The night is dark and full of terrors.

The Red Keep was being besieged by the Rebel Army. They were at the Gates, waiting for their pray to either die holding their doors or starve to death. The people from the city gathered on the entry of the red walls, trying and failing to get in, as the royal guards protected the king, throwing boiling oil and shooting them arrows from above.

The Mad King had commanded quarentine.

All the servants remaining will do their chores with their mouth shut, or else they would have it sew up. The few lords and ladies that stayed regretted not having fled when they had the chance. Not that they were not loyal to House Targaryen anymore, but loyalty turns really unuseful once you have a knife to your neck, especially in the losing party.

As to the Royal Family itself, there were different situations going on. The king had locked himself in the throne room, accompanied only by his newest hand, a pyromancer called Rossart, and with the doors of said rooms guarded by the entire Kingsguard. Meanwhile, princess Elia roamed around her room, with the little princesses sleeping peacefully on the bed, unbothered by the chaos that devastated Westeros, unawered that their father was probably dead.

The night sky covered the battered city, leaving the fortress in a gloomy aura. Margellyn Baratheon, lady in waiting for Princess Elia, was praying in her dorm, as she usually did since the rebellion began. The king held her hostage as well as her princess and the children, as a bargain for House Martell.

Margie had been sended to the capital three years ago, only twelve at the time, by her brothers Robert and Stannis, like a present for the Royal Family.

Sure as the Seven Hells, they were regretting every decision now.

But Robert had just arrive from the Vale, the brand-new Lord of Storms End, knew how to deal with all women except his own sister, who was barely ten years older than his bastard daughter. He loved her, of course, but sure she was infuriating. Stannis also did love her, but he had enough in his plate, although at first he was reluctant to send a twelve-year-old girl who had never left the walls of Storms End to the big and dangerous city, he gave in to his brother's ideas, since it was already too difficult to raise a newborn Renly and clean up Robert's political disasters as lord, to do all that and control a naughty and talkative young girl.

She was perfect for the job, they thought, had a good hand with kids and the presence of the correct Princess Elia would surely be a very good influence on that rascall they call sister. But they had not thought about the Starks deaths, they had not thought Robert would lead a rebellion and that Stannis would been reclused in Storms End almost starving to death with Renly. The oldest one couldn't even imagine that he would be marching to the capital now, with the blood of Rhaegar Targaryen in his hands, with his sister being hostage within the same Keep as a pyromaniac king.

Robert would rather have his tongue torn out than admit this, but he hadn't seen Margie in two years. He was afraid of arriving at a fortress consumed by fire and not being able to recognize his sister's body.

Of losing another girl he loved to a Targaryen.

When the news of Lyanna's kidnapping came to the capital, Margie was horrified, couldn't even think of Rhaegar doing something like that. It left her Princess weak in the heart and she was angry at the Crown Prince for it, he deserved a punch in his pretty face. And when the Battle of the Trident was known, Margie was not angry anymore, she was scared.

She thought of all the ways the king could torture her or kill her as revenge for his son. She became paranoid, only seeing her Princess and the kids, not speaking to anyone else. She burned all the letters she had from her brothers, only wore orange dressed as the Dorne standard, refusing any kind of black and yellow.

But she was still alive.

Third day of siege, and she was still alive. In her prayers, she plead for her brothers to save her or the famine to kill her, whathever that came first.

But please, please, do not burn me alive.

She prayed for the children as well, little beings that didn't ask to be born in this mess and that awful family. And she prayed for her good princess, who she loved like no other, brokenhearted by that stupid prince.

"What are you doing?". ask the little princess wathing her dark-haired friend.

"Just praying" Margie responded " For a short Winter and a Spring full of wheat".

"Can you pray the Gods for a new dress?"

Margie laughed at her occurrence.

"I can try"

She prayed for her brothers, the three of them, Robert, Stannis and Renly. It's been a long time since she saw them. She wondered if Renly remembered her, if Stannis still had hair in his head or if Robert could have grown more, if that was possible.

She prayed for a sunny day among those clouded wars, for the blood to stop raining upon her and her loved ones and a sky full of peace.

But it was night.

And the night is dark and full of terrors.

The obscured city bagan to light, but it wasn't the sun. It was fire. Fire and blood.

Margellyn approached the window of her room, the capital of Westeros plunged into chaos and pain, among the banners of the rebel army, one stands out from the rest, one that does not belong to the lands of the North, or the Riverlands, or the Vale, or her own.

A golden lion on a red floor.

The Lannister have betrayed the King.

"We're doomed".

The Baratheon girl breathed out all the air in her body. It was the end, the King was going to set everyone on fire, she had heard him say it, she had heard what was inside the Keep, in under the city. It was the end.

She grabbed the first robe she saw, a pale pink over her white nightgown, shoeless. She left the room, on her way to the princess's royal chambers in the other wing of the Red Keep.

But on the way she found a crowd of servants fleeing in terror, pushing each other to escape the terror that was unleashed at the foot of the fortress. She saw royal guards drag the fleeing man back through the corridors. Among the chaos, there was a loud crash.

Everyone remained silent, looking at the gate in terror. That he was being beaten by the Rebel army. A moment of stillness, before the door fell.

"They're inside!" Targaryen guard raised the alarm.

The Lannister army entered the interior of the imposing keep to slaughter. They did not stop to ask questions or to save the servants from the edge of their swords. They killed everything that moved. Not that Margie wanted to stay and find out.

She ran as fast as her cold feet allowed her to the stairs of the royal wing. He had to alert his princess and get her out of here. She pushed every body that crossed her path with all the strength she possessed, if Robert saw her he would applaud her and laugh saying "Fury moves mountains, doesn't it, kiddo?"

Suddenly, she felt a tug on her arm. Terror invaded her mind, she was not a naive girl, she knew what happened to girls and women during sacks. The women of the court are cruel, and they tell stories of even crueler men to the girls newly arrived from all around the Seven Kingdoms. What those men did to women during the looting was the worst fate for a lady. The harlots suffered it daily, but at least they received reward for it. She knew what that meant, they took away their humanity, forcing them and leaving them dying at the end if they were lucky. The best thing to do, they said, was to close your eyes and pray that they won't leave you a bastard. "Don't scream" the most cynical would say "Don't give them the pleasure."

But Margie wasn't about to give anyone any kind of pleasure.

When the man pushed her against one of the walls and pressed against her, she wanted to vomit, but first her eyes caught a glimpse of an unlit candelabrum with a sharp ornament. She felt the man rip her silk robe with a knife that scarred her shoulder, then she reached for the candelabrum, stabbing him in the eye with it.

Shouts and curses were said to her by the man, as she returned to her way to the princess room.

Maybe they were safe. She thought.

Elia had told her before, that Maegor Targaryen built secret passages throughout the fortress, Rhaegar had told Elia that after the Dance of Dragons, many were sealed and over the years people considered this one of the many myths of the Red Keep. Rumors arose again after Queen Rhaella's escape.

Maybe they had used them and were already safe on their way to Dorne. She hoped.

When she reached the hallway of the princess's chambers, her heart began to relax. However, even in the darkness, an uneasiness settled on the back of Margie's neck, as she didn't see a single soul in the corridor.

The closer she got to the door, the farther away it seemed. The hum of the crowd riddled at the entrance was replaced by subtle, weak whimpers of pain... and the cry of a baby.

The door is open, leaving a small line of light that showed the interior of the room.

She saw it all.

The little girl being dragged from her hiding place and stabbed by one of the men, living her little lifeless body on the floor. The next thing left Margie with her heart pounding and vomit rising up her throat. The other man was larger, bulkier, similar to Robert, he took the babys from Elia as she cried being held by the first man. Blood and remains were everywhere, no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't look away from that grotesque scene and she couldn't stop hearing the cries of her poor princess.

Just when Margellyn herself was about to scream in agony, alerting the murderers of her presence, a hand covered her mouth, stoping the shout.

A third accomplice got her and took her aside, right behind a column, pushing her against a wall. Her screams and cries were muffled up by the globed hand of this new person in the scene.

Maybe the Seven thought loud girls had to go screaming.

"Shut it, girl!" the stranger urged her with an familiar voice "Margellyn, please, stop it! You're gettin us killed!"

She knew that voice.

It was Jaime Fucking Lannister.

Her teary eyes focused on his sweaty face. He was dressed with his armour and that bloody white cloack. His golden locks look dirty and darkish, his esmerald eyes lacked of his usual spark. He wasn't grinning like an idiot as he would normally be when she was around.

He looked miserable.

But she wouldn't want to know how she looked.

The warm and stinky weather of King's Landing was no help with the stench of corpses and smoke from fires. Hiding behind a column in the middle of a dark hallway, which in other circumstances would have been completely unseemly, was now a moment of absolute pain and sorrow for the two, as they listened to the last breaths of the princess of Dorne.

His right hand still covering the girl's mouth, his left one held her hand, hoping it would soothed her.

He wanted to leave that spot as soon as possible, get back to his father and give that hardheaded Robert Baratheon his sister back. That was the wise decision.

But Jaime wasn't known for his wise decisions.

So he waited for the girl in front of him to stop crying. Normally, he would have complained about the girls' sentimentality and forced her to go with him to the throne room where her father and the rest of the army were gathered for their victory. Yet he just watched her calm down slowly, still covering her sobs in case the Mountain catch them and tried to harm her.

At this proximity, Jaime could see how her bloodshot eyes did not stop crying. And he also felt like crying, after everything he had done for the kingdom, he had broken his oath and the promise he made to the Dragon Prince.

"Don't get angry, Jaime" Rhaegar Targaryen said "But this is a job for prepared knights"

"But i am prepared, way more than these old men. What if they brake their hip?"

"OI! Be careful boy,I can smack you!"

The rest laughed but Jaime didn't.

The Prince put a hand on his shoulder.

"You have an important role here, promise me you will take care of my wife and my kids and a will promise you, when I get back, things will be different"

"I promise".

He had broken his oath, to the Prince and to the Kingsguard. When the Mountain and his men were out the chambers and out of sight, Jaime realised that it the sun was rising and took Margie's out of their spot.

Jaime began to head to the throne room, they had a lot to do, Storm's End was under siege from what he had heard Jon Arryn and his father say. When he noticed that no one was following him, he turned around.

The Baratheon girl stood still next to the column that had been her hiding place for The Seven Knows How Long, the braid that held her long black hair was disheveled, her skin was pale, almost yellowish, and her tearful eyes did not take off from the door.

Margellyn wanted the earth to swallow her and spit her out into the stormlands again. She wanted her mother, to be a little girl again with a newborn brother to play with and two older ones to bother. She wanted to meet Elia and her children again and play with them in the gardens. And above all, she wanted to stop looking at the pool of blood that could be seen running across the floor.

Jaime took a step foward and closed the door once and for all, separating them from the inert and crushed bodies of Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon.

"Margellyn, come on, we have to go"

"They're dead" she murmured.

"I know"

"They done no wrong"

"I know"

"Why are they dead?"

"I don't know"

He did know.

Only one Targaryen alive was a danger to Westeros, they didn't need to have future crazy Targaryen that could want to take the Iron Throne in the name of their bloody House. It didn't matter they were kids.

If It didn't matter, why did his chest sting?

The ruins of the city rise as best they can after the settlement. Those loyal to the mad king try to flee but are intercepted. The rebels take power and Tywin Lannister prepares for his next step. While Eddard Stark marches to liberate Storm's End, Robert rampages through Maegor Holdfast in search of a young woman he has not seen in years.

As they head to the Council room, Jaime notices the bruises and marks visible behind her (now noticeable in daylight) thin nightgown. The boy fears the worst, it was a long night, and when he found her she already looked like this. He didn't want to think about how it would have ended if he had arrived just a second later. He also knew who was behind those doors. Men, most of them bordering on old age, who would not accept the girls' appearances kindly, regardless of what happened just a few hours ago.

It was too late to turn back to her room for her to change, so he did the only thing that croos his mind, and took off his white ( now spotted red ) cloack and put it over her shoulders.

"There you have" said the boy "You looked cold"

Margie didn't say a word, she just tried to hide within herself, to erase herself from this narrative. There wasn't many times she stayed quiet, but in those moments she couldn't even think of use her voice.

Jaime opened the door. The room fell quiet.

Pairs of wrinkled eyes watch her enter the room a few steps behind Tywin's son, covered in a blood stained cape. At the end of the table, sat with his leg crossed and a cup of wine in his hand, was Tywin Lannister, as victorious as ever.

"Ah" he sighed with delight, as if everything was falling into place "There's the girl, alive and kicking".

The rest of the Commanders of the Rebellion seemed relieved, all that was left was to recover the Stark girl and Robert would not vent his rage on anyone else, they would share the wonderful loot and return to their lands under the rule of a new puppet of Tywin Lannister.

Joan Arryn stood up from his seat, analyzing the girl's posture, fearing that she was going to faint at any moment. Aside from the obvious feminine features, the girl was an exact copy of her older brother, who looked just like their deceased father. A plump face, with stormy blue eyes that looked reddish after tears, the same voluminous, dark hair. It was like seeing his foster child in the body of a scared little girl.

"Call the maester for this girl, and someone bring Robert once and for all" he stated.

Margie felt dizzy and dehydrated, her head pouding crazy. The adrenaline had left her body, leaving her with the lingering pain of the blows and cuts she had suffered during the siege.

While she waited for a maid to come get her clean in her chambers, she sat in a chair in the corner of the room, while man played war. Like a little girl, still covered in that bloody cloack. Jaime was there too, listening to his father plans to hunt down the other wildfire pyromaniacs lefts, every now and then, he would turn his eyes to the girl in the corner, checking if she needed anything.

This did not go unnoticed by Lord Tywin, who was more than satisfied with it.

"Where the hell is Robert?" asked some lord.

"Probably smashing some heads out there yet" said another one.

The thought of it made Margellyn want to vomit.

The siege was days of terror and panic for everyone. The entire fortress shook with every scream of the mad king. Nobody imagined that Lannister himself would betray the king and change the situation in favor of Robert's side. Margie couldn't help but think about how she said goodbye to Elia and the children once they fell asleep, how she said goodbye to her without knowing that it was the last time she would see her alive.

A maid came to take her to the maester and bring her clean clothes. After the maester cleaned the cut and treated the bruises on her body, the maid helped her bathe and dress in a new nightgown and robe, since Maester Yandel had recommended using soft fabrics that would not irritate the wounds. While the maid gently scratched the dirt and blood from her skin, Margie drifted away in her mind, thinking of good Elia, sitting on her bench in the gardens, breastfeeding little Aegon and his fascinating platinum hair. While little Rhaenys played with Balerion the Cat near the fountains.

Maybe if she sank deep enough in the tub, she could resurface in one of the fountains and wake up from this horrible nightmare.

Robert entered her room with strong steps and bittersweet face. It was night again, but she wasn't praying when he came in, not like last night.

She was scared of the dark sky now.

Scared of look at the window and go back to Elia's door again.

Margellyn was happy to see Robert, just didn't have the strength to prove it. But it's okay, because he could put enough strength for the two of them.

He picked her up as he hugged her, squeezed her a little too hard, until her sister let out a whimper.

"My little sister" he claimed, once he let her on the ground "You look like horseshit".

"You smell like it, Bobby"

A spark jumped in his chest when she said that nickname. When Margie was younger and Robert came to visit from the Vale, Margie had trouble pronouncing her r's, so she invented Bobby, her big brother.

"I had a chat with the maester, said you were good but that the night had been tough on ya', that ya needed rest" he said as they sat on the edge of the bed.

Her eyes filled with tears again, thinking of the siege.

Robert felt uncomfortable, he had missed his sister, but she was still a 15-year-old girl who knew what had happened that night.

He was her guardian now, her safety and future fell in his hands, just like Stannis and Renly, who were on their way to King's Landing at that time.

Just like those of the entire kingdom, it seems.

"Listen, kiddo" he said suddenly in a much deeper tone "Things are about to change for me, for us, I was the leader of the rebellion and..."

"They're going to judge you?!" she asked terrified.

"No! Seven hells..." he cursed, leaving her confused "... is much worse indeed..."

Margie feared the worst for a second, then she wondered who the hell could want Robert executed, since everyone loyal to the mad king was either dead or on the way to being so.

"Now that the Mad King and all his spawns are dead..." he began. And Margie wanted to cry again "The Regent Council is looking for a new king, the closest to the Targaryens"

"Tywin Lannister is the king?"

For some reason, that was more scary than a Targaryen.

"No..." he sighed "Our father's mother, Rhaelle Baratheon, was Rhaelle Targaryen by birth, daughter of Aegon Targaryen the Fifth of His Name" he explained "which, by royal blood, make's me, our father's firstborn, the new King of the Seven Kingdoms".

Margellyn was totally speechless. Of all the possible candidates for ruler, they have chosen their idiot brother. She loved him, of course, but he would be an absolute disaster as king, he was born to be Lord Baratheon of Storms End, not King Baratheon of the Seven Kingdoms.

"That is..." she said

"NUTS! How could you even be King?" she wanted to say.

"... is unexpected"

"I knew I should have waited a bit to tell ya kiddo, but it had to be done, when the storm clears, the loyalist to Aerys would be gone and I will be king"

He didn't seem too keen on being the next monarch either.

Robert then prepared to leave, but not before saying.

"Stannis and Renly will arrive in the capital in a week, when they arrive we will talk about Storm's End. Tomorrow morning you will be with me in the throne room, when they announce my coronation and my engagement".

He left before she ask.

"What engagement?"

The door was shut.

Margellyn Baratheon was left alone in her room again. This time there was no danger. There was a storm outside, washing the sins of the streets away.

There was a storm outside.

Further away, a baby is born.

[untilmynextstory]

| Elia Week 2024 | Day 2: Elia + Her Brothers, Reunion Summary: As soon as her feet touched the sand, she wept.

The sky was a vibrant canvas, painted in a mosaic of yellow, orange, pink, and red, casting a warm glow over the horizon. 

Elia, who had only known the desolation and despair of King's Landing for the past few years, was now witnessing a beauty she had never imagined. This beauty momentarily erased the harsh realities of her present. 

The boat was small and rocky. She hadn’t been on a sailboat this small since Ashara Dayne had snuck her out to the Torentine River in her youth. 

Her children were huddled and bundled in the corner of the boat. Surprisingly, Balerion remained calm throughout the journey as he entertained her two small babes. He was one of the few things she had brought back from King’s Landing. She left most of her clothes and jewels gifted by Rhaegar. She only took her favored mementos of Dorne and her family. 

The captain of the small ship was a tiny man with gold teeth and tan, withered skin, a figure shrouded in mystery. Ser Jaime was an acquaintance of the man. She found it best not to ask for details. Ser Jaime was already risking getting her to safety, and she would rather not know the details, adding to the sense of impending danger and uncertainty. 

Yet, she had to trust Jamie that she would get to safety. She found it amusing that the man her mother wanted her to be betrothed to was the one saving her. Now, her family was in debt to the Lannisters. Gods, she could only imagine Tywin’s face once if he ever found out what Jaime did. 

Elia looked out to the horizon. 

She greedily sucked in the air of the sea. It was cleaner than King’s Landing. She could smell the salt and fish. She could smell her freedom. The thought made her smile - a true, genuine smile in years. 

However, her eyes caught on a figure on the shoreline. And even in the distance, she recognized the shapes of her brother. It took her willpower not to jump out of the boat and swim to shore. 

However, her restraint did not apply, especially to her younger brother. As the boat neared, he was halfway into the water, and she met him halfway. 

She didn’t know if she was crying or laughing as she swept into her younger brother’s arms like a wave. His hold is solid and reaffirming, and she knew after this, her younger brother would probably never let her out of his sight.

“Are you okay? Are you alright?” Oberyn asked as he pulled back and looked into her deep brown eyes. 

“I am now,” she assured him. It was the truth. If she had her way, she would never have left Dorne again. 

She kissed her brother’s cheeks, eyelids, and forehead. He returned the greeting, and she inhaled the scent of florals. Eventually, he let her go as the boat with her children neared and helped bring it to shore.

Her dress clung to her legs as she emerged from the shores, and her toes gripped the earth. 

She stumbled on the hot, white sand. She fell to the ground, and she wept.

She was home. 

Rhaenys’ and Aegon’s laughs provided a new type of music in the halls of the Old Palace. She was worried the kids would be scared and timid in a new place. However, with their cousins - family - surrounding them - all the stress from the last year seemed to have melted. 

Elia watched with a smile as Oberyn and his girls played with Balerion and Rhaenys while Aegon was in the lap of Arianne, who was playing with a new toy his uncles had provided. 

Elia was back in her traditional Dorne wardrobe. A wardrobe not altered to appease the Northerners in King’s Landing. 

She sat beside her older brother Doran, who shared a cup of red Dornish. 

“When Jaime Lannister sent word of an escape for you, I could not believe it,” Doran admitted. He gripped her hand tightly. “We will owe him a great debt.”

Elia nodded her head and returned his firm grip. “Surprisingly, Jamie turned out to be the best of them.”

Doran nodded. “You and the children never have to go back there. Never.”

“It was hard trying to find the sun there. It was so dim there,” Elia whispered to her brother. Though now everything is brighter, she thought. 

“Muna, come play with us,” Rhaenys called from the floor. 

For the first time in months, Elia moved up from her chair, and she didn’t feel an ache of pain. 

Links: AO3

[msmorningstaarr]

Holy and Heathen - Chapter 9 (A Fallen Star.)

Pairing: young!Oberyn MartellxF!Original Hightower Character

Word count: 6.8k

Chapter Warnings: fingering (f receiving), full of fluff stuff, oberyn finally being a good hubby;

ao3 | masterlist

Chapter Summary: Oberyn is understanding that part of a duty involves letting go of the past to live fully the present. But some actions demand consequences.

(Except for Melara Hightower, all characters do not belong to me but to George RR Martin, author of the 'A Song of Ice and Fire' book series.)

Before you read... I'm sorry for taking so long. I must confess I feel without motivation nowadays, but I'm trying my best to finish this story <3 likes, reblogs and comments are totally welcome!

Oberyn

Melara slumbered peacefully on his arms as the glimpses of sunshine made its way throughout his private quarters. Her blonde hair was messy and wild in a way he only saw on their first night. The warmth of her body innocently rubbing against his caused a sensation of comfort and relaxation. He had to admit that his life seemed too different and full of guilt as deeper he dived into marital life, but the little lady had nothing to do with it. His fingers traced where he assaulted her. The bruises were disappearing, although still visible. No man should ever be cruel towards a lady, especially when the lady in question was his own lady wife and the day they fought still haunted him until this day, even after her forgiveness.

Last night, he left that tavern adamant on his decision to make that feast as chaotic as possible. Wine had taken control over his head and he wanted to torment his mother, Melara, the drunk ones in the dance floor or simply anyone who would cross his path. He was angry at the world that Elia seemed so happy without him around. Jealousy screamed in his ears as he imagined dragon seed sowing inside of Elia instead of his own. As he rode back to the castle that night, he wanted everyone to feel at least a small part of everything he felt regarding Elia’s pregnancy… until he saw those scared eyes of Melara, not blinking for a moment once Oberyn extended his hand at her for a dance. 

The memory of his lady wife’s frightened gaze made his mind go on a spiral of turmoil and he realised that he had no right to interfere and ruin one more thing for her, not that night. The more he would talk to her, the more he could see the vulnerability through her eyes and how scared of him she was, it struck a chord within him, awakening a sense of responsibility and remorse. As the prince gently ran his fingers over the fading bruises, he couldn't shake the guilt that laid over him. No matter how much he tried to justify his actions as a means to cope with his own frustrations, he knew he had crossed a line.

Oberyn could not upgrade his feelings towards Lady Melara from one day to another swiftly. However, after being inside her walls - beyond fucking her, the dornish prince could see more and more of another side of her. He noticed her fingers intertwining on his every time she wished to speak. He noticed her eyes narrowing as her cheeks blushed once he spoke some explicit sentence. He grinned at how clumsy she could be at times when she would dance with him. He could finally appreciate how soft her lips were every time his own lips encountered hers. Maybe it was still the fear and suspicion over him, but Oberyn finally would feel like his lonely star was falling from the sky and being nearer to him, to become human. Melara was quite different from Elia, but her charm was undeniable and unique under his eyes. Oberyn felt privileged, once the Daynes were not the only ones with a piece of a fallen star; if they forged a sword, involuntarily the salty prince forged a wife.

The sunlight filtering into the room cast a warm glow on Melara's peaceful face. In that moment, Oberyn felt a wave of protectiveness and tenderness. He swore to himself that he would be a better husband, one who didn't let his monsters control him. He couldn't erase the past, but he could shape the future. If Elia could so easily fall for Rhaegar and cast him aside, why not could he grow to like Melara as well? He knew for a fact that his silver princess had the same melancholic gaze as Elia’s silver prince had.

What distressed Oberyn was the fact that Elia seemed to be so happy without him and yet, she held his feelings with enticing words of loving more than one person at the same time. Slowly, his mind had peace with the fact that loving Elia could be nothing more than longing and he knew his sister knows it too, although likes flying near the sun, never daring to touch it. Elia had Rhaegar and she seemed more than happy around him, Melara deserved to feel as happy too. His mother’s words at their breakfast enlightened his head and a sense of duty towards his house and family started to make sense. It could doom everything if anyone could read any content of their letters indeed. He stared at Melara once more and understood a life-changing revelation for his life: being mature was the only way out. He had nowhere to go; he was the heir, he was married and he was a man of his word. Melara’s dutiful presence made sense to him now, once legacy weighed over him.

Carefully disentangling himself from Melara's sleeping form, Oberyn rose from the bed and moved to a nearby table where a decanter of water and a basin were set. As he cleaned his face and splashed water on it, his own reflection in the mirror stared back at him, metaphorically using it as a manner to self-reflect on his actions. For so long, Oberyn never thought of feeling guilt for indulging himself with someone and here he was, drowning in guilty at every time he would remember the evening he fucked the tavern girl. He repeated himself that his lady wife would never know, she was just a servant girl somewhere in the desert village, in a random tavern. He would never see that woman again. The salty prince stared at his silver princess, watching her slender features perfectly shaped on that thin nightgown and slowly his digits traced gentle circles on her cheeks and soon after, waking up his wife.

"Good morning, husband." Melara said, yawning and pulling her hair behind her ear as he curled his lips on a smile. The princess sat on the bed and her eyes seemed wary, her body expression felt tense. Has he done something wrong?

"Good morning, wife." Oberyn replied to her, watching her sit down. The words from Elia’s last letter echoed in his mind and he wondered: could he be capable of loving more than one person at the same time? The salty prince beamed at his wife, who shrunk her body and joined her legs as she sat in bed. Her little eyes stared at him, not blinking for a second and with unexplainable emotions. She seemed to be uneasy, fearful and suspicious, which made the guilty devour his thoughts once more. Did Oberyn have the power to provoke so many hard feelings on her? 

"Look at me properly when I speak to you, princess," Oberyn said, with a smug smile. 

Melara then raised her face and adjusted her posture to stare at him, cheeks burning red in heat of embarrassment.

"Pardon me, husband." Melara tried to cover the bruised marks with her hands as she looked away and tried to leave the bed, but Oberyn was quick to hold her by cupping her face, bringing his silver princess closer to him.

"Don’t be." He muttered, caressing her chin. "Do I cause some sort of fear in you?"

The blonde girl sighed, biting her lips as her eyes stared at the ceilings in a search of words. "I-I…" She tried to speak.

"Be honest to me, Melara." Oberyn endured his words and leaned closer to his wife. "Do I frighten you?"

Already tearing and with nowhere to go, her lips left a low ‘yes’ leave her lips, which made Oberyn stare at her in silence, trying to find his own words to reply to it. However, after some taciturn minutes, his lips would finally open up once more.

"The day I first saw you in King’s Landing you were outstanding, my lady. I have to admit it." He beginned. "I must say I was not interested in you, even told Queen Rhaella I had no desire to grow any type of affection for you… my heart was busy with other people. However, I always thought of you as someone false, secretly involved in debauchery, hiding under righteousness to cover any of your failures, sins you may commit. That thought enticed my desires, I wanted to fuck your holiness away," His hands traced her arms once more, glancing at the upper members. "Still, the night you cried because we touched each other before our wedding I could see you were not lying and you were indeed innocent. And yet I wondered ‘how can someone this naive be this fearless?’ because you have only smiled at me once, at our wedding night after I made you come so much you were close to passing out. Not even one more smile, beam or slight grin after that, my lady." With this sentence, Oberyn held her hands and kissed them, gently. "Ever since I met you, I have been spiralling in guilt, I must confess. I should never have pushed you, assaulted you. I should never raise my voice at you. I should be more compassionate with you. For I have no wish to take the fearless gaze from your eyes, Melara."

"My prince…" Melara tried to speak, but Oberyn came closer and involved his arms around her waist, forcing her to straddle his thighs. She breathed heavily as the bright blue sea of her eyes met his dark brown, widow’s peek. Oberyn rubbed his nose against hers and his words fastly cut hers.

"Please, let me in, Melara." He pleaded, grabbing the back of her neck to pull her closer. "I promise to let my guard down for you to come in too."

Melara slowly touched her lips on his, brushing it as her fingertips caressed his face, allowing the contact between them. Oberyn squeezed her hips and his tongue invaded her mouth, exploring with eagerness and desire. Feeling the heat increase between both of them, Oberyn locked his wife in his arms, wishing that moment to never end. Melara tasted so differently now with sobriety taking care of him. Her smell was everywhere, her lips were plump and soft, her body was hot, nipples piercing through the night dress and rubbing against his bare chest as their tongues danced in full lust.

"My lord… husband…" Melara dropped her words while Oberyn kissed her neck and his hot breath caused goosebumps throughout her pale skin. The salty prince held her tight, pressing her centre against his growing bulge and letting a soft moan leave her lips. He smirked at the sight. "We did it last night… do you wish to do it again?" Then, Oberyn stopped his touches and only held her by the waist.

Her innocence screaming through her eyes went back into something as sweet as honey. Something he found to be annoying the old days now he even thought as sweet to see her eyes intensely gazing at him, mouth dried as she swallowed her spit. 

"You do not wish to be touched?" Oberyn asked, gently.

Melara’s breath caught in her throat as Oberyn’s question hung in the air, and she hesitated for a moment before finding her voice. "No, husband. I do wish to be touched," she whispered, her eyes still locked with his.

Oberyn’s gaze softened as he looked into her eyes, his hands tenderly caressing her waist. "Your desire must matter to me, Melara. I won’t push you into anything you’re not comfortable with." His hands slowly started to hold and lift her simple nightdress as he stared at her. "I know you don’t wish to use my mouth, fingers on you or undress you, but let me do this at least for once." Melara could not blink her eyes and swallowed her own spit as Oberyn kept undressing her. "Let me please you. I am tired of fucking you like an old, frail man… in only one position and almost fully clothed. Let me taste you like you deserve, my lady. Let me see your teats and suckle on them before our children do. Let me swim my tongue on your cunt as I eat you like it’s my last meal. Let me see your bare body underneath or on top of mine." Oberyn noticed her nails pressing against his shoulder and her wetness leaving a small mark on his trousers. He smirked at the feeling and his cock already gave signs of excitement. Her hips were already fully exposed. "I promise I’ll pray with you after we finish committing our sinful activities. I shall go even further and fast with you, so the Gods can see how willing to please you I am."

Melara overheated immediately and pouted her lips, ashamed. "Husband…" She moaned as Oberyn smugly smiled.

"You’re already wet, wife. Let me take care of this." Oberyn carefully controlled her hips, bouncing it back and forth as his fallen star whimpered, riding his thigh. "I see how keen you are when it comes to riding, my wife," he whispered when bit her ear. Melara arched her head back, lifting her arms so the salty prince could finish leaving her nude to his sight.

And there she was, fully naked in his presence. Her hands tried to cover her nudity immediately in shame, however, Oberyn was quick to prevent her actions and admired her nipples on display for him. His glance lowered to her belly and hips and then returned to her face, deeply blushing. "Don’t feel embarrassed. I am already bewitched by your body, my fallen star." 

His fingers reached her lips once more, as a sign of the intimacy he wanted to begin and his digits traced desperate moves onto her soft lips but his own reached her neck to kiss and nibble it. Melara squirmed and Oberyn locked his arms around her thin waist, eager for more. "Lay down," Oberyn softly commanded and Melara complied, still attempting to shield herself from his intense gaze. The vulnerability in her eyes did not go unnoticed by Oberyn, who understood the delicate nature of this moment.

A blend of desire and vulnerability as Oberyn and Melara navigated the uncharted waters of intimacy. Oberyn's gaze lingered on Melara's exposed form, appreciating the beauty that lay before him. His words were both a plea and a promise, a request for consent and a declaration of his intent to please her.

Melara, blushing and overwhelmed, tried to cover herself instinctively, but Oberyn's confident touch and commanding presence prevented her from concealing her nakedness. His admiration for her body, expressed with both words and actions, was a testament to the passion that simmered between them.

Oberyn's fingertips traced the contours of Melara's lips, a gesture that spoke of the intimacy he sought to explore. His kisses on her neck sent shivers down her spine, and the room vibrated alongside her voiced desire.

As Melara remained laying down, her hands covering her breasts and her legs crossed, Oberyn hovered over her. He admired her sunburnt skin, a contrast to his sun-kissed skin, that spoke of Dorne's relentless sun. His fingers gently moved to her hands, coaxing them away from her chest.

"Don't hide from me, my fallen star," he murmured, his voice a blend of tenderness and desire. "I want to see all of you, to know every inch of the woman I wish to please."

With a gentle touch, he guided her hands away, allowing her to lay exposed beneath him. The room seemed to pulse with the shared heartbeat of Oberyn and Melara. As their bodies intertwined, Oberyn carefully split her legs open for him and kept looking at the apex of her thighs, salivating in lust. Following his natural instincts, his index pressed against her swollen clit and it made Melara blush even more – if possible, as she suppressed her moan. "I don’t want you to hide those moans from me either, my wife." He said, circling his finger on her throbbing sweet spot. The silver princess could not hold back anymore and her hands covered her eyes as she tried to release her tension when Oberyn carefully touched her cunt and her throat let out quiet moans whilst Oberyn drove her to pure bliss.

The salty prince felt so satisfied to see her bare body squirming and enjoying herself that his own length leaked that early juice to every small move Melara did under his touches. His index increased his pace on her clit the faster he moved, the louder she screamed and Oberyn was already convinced that everyone in the castle could hear her sweet sounds of pleasure. “Let go, fallen star…” 

Melara already gave signs of an imminent climax reaching her body and immediately raised her upper body to face Oberyn, trembling her body and finally releasing the tension like waves crashing rocks. The prince grinned at her numb body recovering in the mattress after so many actions from Oberyn’s fingers, which he used to introduce inside of his lady wife and take a last sigh from her mouth. He leaves her cunt full of her wetness and tastes it with his own lips, fully pleased to have a piece of her climax with him. “Was it of your liking?” Oberyn asked, laying by her side as the princess breathed heavily.

Melara turned to face him and opened a sly smile. “Yes, husband.” She whispered, closing her eyes to feel Oberyn caressing her face. He could notice how relaxed and less serious she was now, leaving him under the impression that she no longer was under constant guard up to him and finally let him inside her world. “D-did you enjoy it, husband?”

Oberyn smiled mischievously and passed his fingertips over her body. “You have no idea of how much I did, wife.” He replied, now tracing his fingers over her pale skin. “Do you feel any sort of guilt after I did it to you?”

Melara's sly smile lingered as Oberyn's fingers traced over her face and body. The atmosphere between them had shifted, a newfound ease replacing the earlier tension. As Oberyn continued to explore her skin with gentle caresses, Melara's vulnerability and openness were evident.

She hesitated for a moment before responding to his question, her eyes meeting his. "No, husband," she replied softly. "I don't feel guilt. It was... different than I expected. But not in a bad way."

Oberyn's mischievous grin persisted as he observed her reactions. "Different, you say?" he teased. "Well, my lady, we've only just begun to explore each other. There's much more to discover, don't you think?"

Melara blushed at his playful tone but couldn't help but smile back. The walls that had once surrounded her seemed to be crumbling, allowing room for genuine connection and understanding to grow.

Oberyn pressed a lingering kiss on her forehead. "I want you to feel no shame or guilt, Melara. We are partners in this journey, and your desires matter to me. Whatever we explore together, it's a shared experience."

Melara nodded her head and her eyes seemed to stare at a blank spot, thinking about that small dialogue between them. Oberyn watched her carefully and sat on bed, noticing his member getting flaccid after not engaging in any action. 

Oberyn observed Melara's contemplative expression, realising that their exchange had left an impact on her. As he sat on the bed, he continued to caress her cheek gently, a silent reassurance that he was there with her in the aftermath of their shared intimacy.

Melara, lost in her thoughts, finally turned her gaze towards him. "It's just... I never thought it could be like this," she admitted, her voice a mix of curiosity and vulnerability.

Oberyn chuckled softly. Melara, deep in her thoughts, eventually turned her gaze toward him. "I never imagined this side of marriage," she admitted, her voice soft yet filled with curiosity. "It's both frightening and... intriguing."

Oberyn chuckled, his playful demeanour softened by a genuine warmth. "Marriage is a journey, my lady. It holds surprises, challenges, and pleasures. What matters is that we navigate it together."

As he sat on the bed, Melara joined him, and they shared a quiet moment, the air thick with the unspoken. Oberyn's gaze remained tender, a silent assurance that they were treading this unfamiliar path as equals. “Do you wish to finish your… desires too?” Melara asked, with a hint of unease.

Oberyn smirked and looked at her, surprised with her sudden move. “I had no idea I had unlocked a new personality in you, my lady.” He said, giggling. 

Melara lowered her head, ashamedly. “I thought I should expect to comply with your wishes, husband…” 

Oberyn scratched his eyebrows, trying to think of a response to that passive sentence coming from his wife’s lips. For him, part of feeling Melara as an equal was also in his sexual desires. How could he teach her that she also could be entitled to an opinion? It was a new situation for him, but the prince was trying actively to be patient with her, for he knew well that Faith and her conservative family had put her through. “You are completely entitled to an opinion, my lady. Just like that day you requested me to send Obara and Nymeria away,” he said, staring at her with an arrogant gaze. “If you do not wish for me to fuck you with my cock, then I will not. This part of me and you being equals as a couple.”

Melara looked at Oberyn with a mix of surprise and relief as he spoke. His acknowledgment of her agency in their intimate moments was a revelation, and it resonated deeply with her. She had expected a different reaction, a response that mirrored the societal norms she had grown up with. Oberyn's unconventional approach caught her off guard.

The weight of expectation seemed to lift from Melara's shoulders. Her unease turned into a subtle smile, and she met Oberyn's gaze with newfound confidence. "Thank you, husband," she replied, her voice holding a blend of gratitude and surprise. "I appreciate your understanding."

"Your desires matter, Melara," Oberyn reiterated, his hand finding hers. "We'll explore at a pace comfortable for both of us. And if there's anything you wish to share or ask, know that I am here."

Melara nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. The connection between them deepened in the shared vulnerability, a bridge built on trust and understanding. The room, once charged with passion, now held a different energy, an intimacy that extended beyond the physical.

“Do you still wish to go see Planky Town, my wife?” Oberyn asked, still holding her hand. Oberyn's question brought a twinkle to Melara's eyes, and she nodded enthusiastically. The newfound understanding and connection between them seemed to infuse a sense of joy into the room. As they held hands, the atmosphere shifted from the intimate aftermath of their shared vulnerability to a lighter, more carefree energy.

"Yes, Oberyn," Melara replied eagerly. "I would like that."

Oberyn squeezed her hand affectionately, appreciating the genuine enthusiasm in her response. As they discussed the details of their visit to Planky Town, the air in the room seemed charged with a different kind of excitement. The dornish prince was happy to see Melara interested in blending with her subjects and actually, even surprised. He never really considered her to be a person who actually cared to look after the poor and visit those damp places, but after recollecting the memory of her being a former servant of the Faith of the Seven, her attitude made sense to him. 

“Go to your chambers and fetch your handmaidens to be ready. But make sure to use a veil, I don’t want you to be more sunburnt as we walk through the desert.” He softly commanded his wife, who did as he said quickly, leaving him alone in his chambers to prepare himself for the day Oberyn promised Melara.

————

Oberyn usually rode on horse to the village whenever he decided to visit there, but with Melara in his company, he felt it was most appropriate for her to go on a chariot by his side, admiring the sultry dunes of sand along the way by her window. Before he could get ready himself, the red viper commanded one of his servants to deliver a message to Melara’s handmaidens to fetch her a specific dress he gave her. It belonged to Elia and it was orange, with mustard sleeves, quite similar to a tunic in fact. The dress carried beads and golden pearls embroidered in it and it suited too well with the yellow veil she chose for the occasion. Besides ravishing her with gold and jewellery, Melara only walked with a few accessories: an Seven Pointed silver ring and the Valyrian Steel necklace he gave her, alternating it with a sapphire necklace she carried from her homeland. That day she was addressed with a golden necklace, carved with orange gems. In her hand, Melara carried a small fan to refresh her face as the chariot made his way. It wasn’t a long trip, but Oberyn wanted to make it as comfortable as possible. He thought about bringing his daughters, but figured he would not push them onto Melara’s throat yet. Oberyn felt too distant from his children also, and missed being in their company, although the last events of his life and the constant need to administrate the household alongside Ysilla.

“Do you think the people will like me?” Melara asked, staring out of the chariot window at the passing scenery of the Dornish landscape. The sun cast a warm glow on her features, and her eyes held a mix of anticipation and uncertainty.

Oberyn, who was seated beside her, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, providing a reassuring squeeze. "I have to admit you are quite the charming person when you seem relaxed as you are now, my fallen star," he replied with a smirk. "Dorne is a land that values strength, resilience, and beauty. You possess all of that. But I do fear they will find your pale skin quite strange." Oberyn joked and giggled.

Melara's lips curled into a shy smile. The orange dress, once worn by Elia, adorned her like a regal mantle. The golden necklace and delicate accessories added a touch of elegance, making her presence captivating.

As the chariot made its way toward Planky Town, the small entourage garnered the attention of onlookers. The common folk paused in their daily activities to catch a glimpse of their Prince and his new lady. Whispers and murmurs followed their passage, the people curious about the woman who now shared the prince's company.

Melara's fan delicately waved in front of her face as she maintained her composure. The bustling sounds of the village grew louder as they approached, and Oberyn could sense the mixture of excitement and nervousness in his wife.

"You'll see, Melara," Oberyn whispered, his voice a comforting murmur. "Dorne is a place that appreciates authenticity. Be yourself, and they will appreciate you for who you are."

As the chariot entered Planky Town, the vibrant colours and lively atmosphere welcomed Oberyn and Melara. The adventure into the heart of Dorne had begun, and the red viper felt ready to present Melara to their future subjects. The salty prince paid attention to Melara and smiled to see how enchanted she was with the small village.

There was no one fanning her and yet, the silver princess seemed to ignore this fact and walked anxiously looking at the traders, merchants and even the street urchins. Her hands squeezed his hand every time someone would offer her something, even a simple bow and a ‘your highness’ as a sign of respect to their overlord. It was the first time Oberyn would see Melara actually engaged in something and actually showing her feelings towards people and situations. She was nothing intense, though. However, the impact the small city had on her was visible in her curious eyes. 

A peasant approached them and Oberyn put his hand on his dagger, promptly staying on guard with his men and gently holding the princess. “Please, my lord, my lady, I am starving…” the man said, faintly. Melara stayed silent in front of him, her hands joined together as she hesitantly moved her lips, apparently thinking about doing something. The princess looked at Oberyn and awaited for any sign of allowing her to act and the prince just nodded, quietly. The man was stinking, his lips were pale and dehydrated, just a few strings of hair on his head and a huge open wound on his right foot. 

“Fetch this man some water and bring him food.” She commanded, kneeling in front of the man. Her hands delicately signed for him to show his feet and embarrassed, he tried to raise her immediately. “My lady…” He fastly tried to speak, but Melara blocked his actions with a strange force. One of her servants quickly left and Oberyn watched her take care of the frail man in front of them. He never could imagine that Melara had a heart of gold like this. Although still serious, she was calmly praying with him and checking on the bloody sore affecting his skin.

“Seven blessings upon you, my lady," the frail man whispered, tears welling up in his eyes as Melara attended to his wounds. The sincerity in her actions spoke louder than any words, and Oberyn couldn't help but feel a mixture of surprise and admiration for his wife's unexpected kindness.

The servant returned with water, food and a few ointments prepared by a random merchant on the street, figuring the silver princess could actually try something to heal the man. Melara ensured the man had enough to quench his thirst and satisfy his hunger. The act of compassion displayed by the princess drew the attention of the commoners, and whispers of approval rippled through the crowd.

Oberyn observed the scene, a subtle smile playing on his lips. His fallen star, who had once been perceived as reserved and distant, revealed a side of herself that few had seen. The contrast between her serious demeanour and the genuine care she bestowed upon the impoverished man created a captivating image.

The peasant, overwhelmed by gratitude, repeatedly expressed his thanks to Melara. "You are a kind soul, my lady. Seven Blessings for you and your lord husband."

Melara and Oberyn replied with a simple nod, her gaze still focused on treating the man's wounds. The prince and princess resumed their journey through Planky Town, leaving behind a moment that resonated with the people; a princess who, despite her noble status, had extended a compassionate hand to those in need.

Oberyn, now seeing Melara in a new light, couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. In only one day allowing himself to grow any sort of feeling for his wife, he would not expect to unveil the layers that comprised the woman who had become his princess. However, stubborn as he is, Elia’s memory still lingered on his mind and traces of guilt haunted him every time he thought about moving on from her, even if he was aware she was already under the spell of Prince Rhaegar and far away from him. It was foolish, stupid of him to maintain his head so obsessed with a forbidden passion that affected him intensely. Despite his growing admiration for Melara's compassion and strength, a part of him remained tethered to the past, unable to fully let go of the forbidden passion he harboured for his sister.

Guilt gnawed at him again, a constant reminder of the choices he had made and the consequences they had wrought. The memory of Elia, her smile and her touch ghosted him and refused to release its hold on his soul. Yet, amidst the turmoil of his emotions, Oberyn found solace in the presence of Melara. Her quiet strength and unwavering compassion offered him a glimpse of hope, a beacon of light in the darkness that threatened to consume him.

“You showed yourself to be very skillful using ointments in that man.” Oberyn pointed out, walking amongst the peasants.

Melara just lowered her head and nodded. “In the Starry Sept you learn all kinds of things when you’re a novice,” she replied. “I did took care of a man in the Starry Sept, husband. The former High Septon.” As she mentioned it, her eyes seemed a bit numb, saddened for a brief moment. The familiar melancholy reached her again thinking of him. 

“Is he dead by now?” Oberyn asked, staring at her. 

“Likely, yes.”  Melara replied, lowering her eyes and sighing heavily. 

Oberyn observed Melara's expression, sensing the sorrow that crept into her eyes at the mention of the former High Septon. The weight of the past seemed to press on her, and he could see the traces of melancholy etched on her face.

"Death often finds us all, one way or another," Oberyn remarked, his voice a mixture of understanding and empathy. "In the world we live in, even the highest and the holiest are not immune to its grasp."

Melara nodded in acknowledgment, her gaze fixed on the ground. "It seems you've had your share of encounters with it. The High Septon, your mother and... You possess a kindness not commonly found in our world."

Melara glanced at him, her expression a mix of acknowledgment and sorrow. "Kindness may be a rarity, but it costs nothing to offer it," she replied softly. "I learned that with the Gods."

Oberyn remained silent for a moment, contemplating her words. He couldn't deny the truth in them. In the harsh reality of their world, where power and strength often dictated outcomes, a simple act of kindness stood out. 

The prince raised his eyebrows as he stared at a blank spot amongst the street of merchants. “Since you were so dexterous with the ointments, I should take you to see my stove where I keep my poisons. Would you like that?”

Melara turned her eyes to him, surprised. “So is it true that you know about poisons?”

Oberyn grinned and squeezed her hand. “Yes. Mother had an alchemist from Lys to teach me once she noticed I took interest in the subject. Elia loved watching me manipulate it too.”

Melara looked at Oberyn with a mix of curiosity and uncertainty. “The two years I was in Volantis I also learned a great deal with a magister.” The revelation that Oberyn had knowledge of poisons added another layer to the bonding they were forming with each other. The notion of visiting his personal space where he kept such substances honestly bothered him because it was a change of heart he felt he had to do. However, he was no longer interested in making Melara pass as an outsider in his life; the girl, although cautious, seemed pretty satisfied with the sudden change from her lord husband and Oberyn, as a sad bird in its cage had learned to live with the lack of freedom. If he could not have his freedom, he would at least enjoy what was left for him.

"Poisons are a dangerous craft," she remarked, her voice cautious. "What purpose does it serve for you to keep them?"

Oberyn's grin widened, and he continued leading her through the lively streets. "Knowledge is power, my fallen star. And in this world, one must be well-acquainted with various forms of power to navigate it. Besides, it's not only about harm. Sometimes, poisons can be the cure when used with the right intent and understanding."

Melara nodded thoughtfully, considering his words. For a moment, she stopped her walking and faced Oberyn in silence, until she wasn’t. “Why?”

Oberyn faced Melara, with a puzzled expression. “What do you mean, my lady?”

Melara bit her lips and faltered her words there, lowering her head. “Why do you treat me so gently after being distant?” She asked, practically soundless.

Oberyn sighed and squeezed her hands as she stared at him. “Because I no longer wish to fight the cage I was locked into with you. Of what is worth to yearn for freedom if I hurt you in the process?”

“You are not the one to blame, more of one to pity over the fact you could not follow your wish to be a Septa.” The dornish prince cupped her face with one hand, gazing intensely at her as he saw a glimpse of a tear fall from Melara’s eyes right there, in front of a crowd. “We are bound as a couple, you and I, Melara. From the day I took you as my wife, you and I became one soul, one flesh, one heart. If I hurt you, I hurt myself. Therefore, I find no joy in causing you pain. You deserve more than I have given you.”

Melara's eyes shimmered with emotion as she listened to Oberyn's heartfelt words. She reached up to touch his hand that cupped her face, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Thank you, my prince," she whispered softly.

Oberyn leaned down to press a gentle kiss on her forehead, his expression tender. "You are my princess, Melara. And I will do everything in my power to ensure that you feel safe and cherished every day."

With that, they resumed their walk, hand in hand, their bond strengthened by understanding and acceptance. As they disappeared into the streets, Melara started asking him questions about Essos, his abilities with poison and studies he did with scholars all around the planet. The silver princess was reserved but it was clear her interest upon Oberyn’s adventures and he could not deny his liking for that interaction and the attention he was receiving for someone he was finally seeing as his equal, not an inanimate object for him to produce heirs.

And with time passing Melara gave him signs of hunger, once both of them had not broken their fasts before leaving to see the village. As a sign of good will, Oberyn let her pick any place to eat by her choice… a terrible choice, he thought. Melara looked at all the taverns and disliked them immediately, almost. ‘The smell is not good’, or she would simply stare at the place for brief seconds until her mind decided it was not what she wanted. Oberyn was slightly annoyed, but complied with an unknown stock of patience with his lady wife.

Of so many tents, Melara chose a quite familiar and specific tavern. Its walls were grey, but it was loud and the food smelled good. The scent of pepper and chicken invaded his nose, alongside Melara’s who asked her husband if they could eat there. 

The address happened to be the same he visited last day and fucked the servant. In all honesty, Oberyn would never want his wife to be in the same establishment where he fucked other woman, knowing that the mysterious commoner he bedded could be there, serving him and Melara. Her eyes seemed so eager to explore the saloon, he had no right to deny her that. So with a sly nod, Oberyn allowed his silver princess to eat there with him. 

As she entered the establishment, the owners of the place quickly arranged for someone to serve the prince and princess and treats of all kinds arrived to them. Fresh fruits, the best dornish red they could fetch and breads of all kinds. Melara thanked them all while her cheeks burned red, once she was not used to having all the attention on her. Oberyn found sweet the way she would react to being pampered and, with time, he felt more comfortable once there was no signal of the girl he fucked being around.

“Get used to being treated like this. People cherish the Martells too much, my princess.” Oberyn stated, smirking before swallowing a grape. Melara pouted and before she could say anything, a loud noise from behind her would reach her attention. Oberyn, for the first time, would feel as if his heart was leaving his chest. The same way he would feel if his mother or nurse caught him doing something mischievous. There she was, the same girl he fucked staring at them. She looked pale and frightened, her eyes were puffy and appeared to be completely flabbergasted after throwing the jar of wine on the floor. Could all that reaction be only due to seeing him?

“Melara.” Said the girl, trembling terribly. How did she know his wife like this? The silver princess looked behind and petrified, stared back at Oberyn briefly before standing up.

“Lya.” Melara replied and the strange girl hugged her, still shaking.

------

Taglist: @princessanglophile @hiroikegawa @hiraethrhapsody

[uniquebureau]

Someone I was starting to like

The prince saw his betrothed talking with another boy and gets jealous

Elia moved to follow him, but Jace stopped her, taking her by the arm.

“ Let him go,” he told her. “He is not worth it”

She shook her head and followed Aemond along the hall. She found him outside the hall.

“ Hey!” she called him. He turned to her and started walking faster, she had to almost run to reach him and grabbed him by the arm.

“ Don’t touch me” he said, freeing his arm from her grip.

"What was that?" she asked, gesturing at the hall with her arm.

He looked at her almost in disgust. "I should be the one asking that. I don't know how it is in Dorne, but here, women don't remain alone with other men”

"Are you being serious?!"

"And you?” he asked, in remand. “Are you being serious about this, or is this just a game, for you?"

"A game?” she repeated, shaking her head in disbelief. “Why? Just because I was talking to Jace? We were talking about how excited he is to get married!"

"I don't give a fuck about what you were talking about,” he said, with an expression on his face that made him almost unrecognizable. “You won't talk to him ever again, if you want this to continue" he concluded, pointing at them.

Elia flinched, blinking. She took a step back, his word echoing in her head.

Before realizing it, she was laughing. Not chuckling, or giggling, she was laughing out loud, a hand covering her face while she tilted her head back.

Aemond was looking at her with a confused look, as well as still enraged.

“ What…?” he asked.

"I feel so stupid” she admitted, shaking her head. “I really thought you were different, but you're just like every other man in this fucking seven kingdoms. You think you can raise your voice and take out your knife and everyone will listen to you, too scared to disobey. Well, you won't scare me , and you will not give me orders. You're not my father, you're not my master, and you're not even my prince."

"Then who am I to you?" he questioned her.

She shook her head, while she took a step back, trying to put as much distance as possible between them. But even if she had run away to the other side of the world, it wouldn’t have been far enough. She took off her necklace and threw it at him.

"Just someone I was starting to like” she admitted, before walking away.

[lycanlovingvampyre]

MAG 137 Relisten

Activity on my first listen: putting up a new fence.

"I never wanted to join up, never cared about fighting for my country. I mean, what, like my country ever fought for me? No." Fucking yes! This speaks so much to me. And I'm living in a country with socialism. But when you need the social services department the people there are doing everything in their power to keep you from getting help.

"I wasn’t scared of dying, not really." Not really-counter of S4: 5!

"No, death ain’t scary. But killing, that’s scary." While I agree with these both statements (death in like being dead myself, not so much about people dear to me being dead), I do very much find the process of dying scary. The concept of being dead just makes me feel woozy.

"The things people will do to their fellow man, just because someone with a shinier badge tells them to." This is extremely scary...

"He never lost his smile, though. Not until he heard that music." Cue the ambiance music!

"The whole time, I expected the music to reach me – to take me, to seize my heart with murderous purpose. But it never did. Even as the last of the other prisoners began to hack wildly at each other, and the waters started to flow over the sides and around my ankles, I never felt it." Because the statement giver never wanted to kill anyone, neither human nor animal. So it didn’t work on them, there never was an alignment.

GERTRUDE: "I wonder what stopped it. A Japanese radar filled with spiderwebs, a US destroyer finding itself suddenly alone in the open ocean? Heh. We’ll probably never know." This was in October 2014. Only a few months later she would test her theory about no ritual of a single entity being able to succeed.

GERTRUDE: "Well, you still have Dekker’s back-up plan, of course, but it’s very risky. To be sure, I think the detonation would need to happen from within the Unknowing, while it was going on. Gerard may have a connection to the Eye, but I’m not convinced it would be enough. And I will admit I’ve grown… fond of the boy." Growing soft there in her old days. Still, and it's not even a big surprise, but wanting to sacrifice Gerry in the Unknowing would have just been the icing on the cake of all her casualties. (This is also why I think Gertrude knew about Gerry’s tumor. The knowledge would support her intention to sacrifice Gerry, as he’s already dying.)

GERTRUDE: "I wonder if I told him about Eric, whether he’d follow in his father’s footsteps… Still, it’s not like it kept Eric safe in the end." And this as well! Keeping this information from him.

I think it's interesting that one of the themes of this season were rituals. We heard about the Sunken Sky (very briefly), The Last Feast, The Everchase and now the Risen War. Elias is working on making the Archives crew believe the Extinguished Sun is also still around. And we'll still get to a few more!

JON: "Everyone else is running towards something or running away, and I… I don’t know what I’m doing." Story of my life xDD

JON: "Daisy’s got me listening to The Archers. I hate it." Lol, I love those two idiots!

This is one of the two episodes in this season without any dialogue. The second one being MAG 139.

@a-mag-a-day

[yukidragon]

Please write more of Elias and his bride! The first fic was so so so so good!!!! 🤧 please and thank you

Ahhh, thank you so much! Don't worry, even though Elias only got 2nd place in the poll, I do intend to write about him and his bride again sometime soon. In fact, I've started coming up with ideas for my version of the MC. I even played around in picrew to come up with a basic design for his bride until I can draw again.

Meet Coraline King, also known as Cora or "that creepy ghost girl." She comes from a big family with a lot of siblings, and is the third eldest child. She's had a hard time of it with a lot of health problems that have given her more than a few close calls. Her brushes with death have given her a tendency towards gallows humor in an attempt to not let her fragile mortality crush her spirits. She's also interested in ghosts and the occult.

Though she spent most of her life homeschooled due to her health, once she was old enough, she started taking a couple classes at the local community college. When she found out about the college's ghost hunters club, she thought it would be an opportunity to make friends with an interest in the paranormal like her and maybe lift her spirits a bit.

Unfortunately, while the club might have claimed to be searching for the paranormal, the members mostly used it as an excuse to make scary prank videos, especially on the newbies as a form of hazing. Coraline, being pretty sheltered, falls for their lure and is the victim of a prank they stage at the old Gallagher Mansion, which is rumored to be pretty haunted.

It probably wouldn't have been so bad if she actually got scared by the noises and fake "ghosts" they tried to terrorize her with, but when Coraline was only excited by the prospect instead of scared, the pranksters felt compelled to push things too far in order to get the reaction they wanted.

The end result was Cora getting covered in stage blood, her possessions scattered about the mansion, and her precious necklace given to her by her mother lost. The necklace isn't expensive or anything, but it's irreplaceable! Them laughing at her panic and calling it a joke certainly didn't help things.

It probably would've been a totally miserable day if suddenly the ghost club didn't just get what they were supposedly looking for - a ghost. Specifically, a ghost covered in blood with a detached head who was very affronted by such ruffians terrorizing someone in his home, particularly someone who said such nice things about his objectively creepy home while exploring it.

After the club was scared off and ditch Coraline, leaving her all alone in the house, the ghost of the hour, Elias Gallagher helped comfort her and found her precious necklace for her. He was amazed by not only how calm she was at meeting him, but even excited. She was amazed by him existing and asked all sorts of questions. The attention was actually pretty flattering, he had to admit.

Elias is shocked to find out that Coraline was there specifically to find him, the ghost of the tragic groom searching for love. She's so sweet, and he can't help but be dazzled by her even though he just met her. Surely it must be fate. She must be here to be his new bride, his true bride, so of course he asks her to marry him.

Despite his conviction that they must be soulmates, Elias is actually pretty shocked that Coraline agrees with him and accepts his proposal.

Creepy gothic romance and wacky hijinx with a side of spice ensue!

That's the idea for the set up that I've got so far anyway. It'll probably change when the game comes out and as I develop Coraline as a character more. I hope you enjoyed it anyway~!

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur 

[c-e-d-dreamer]

I was at the Carolina Hurricanes game tonight and I thought of you! Are you a Canes fan? Or any other team? Or hockey in general?

Ok so I also thought of you when reading The Goal by Elle Kennedy. It’s the fourth book in her Off-Campus series which starts with The Deal. Anyway, they are all hockey player romances and all great, but The Goal especially gave me such Nessian vibes. Wondering if you have read it and if you would consider writing a Nessian spin on that story?

Um, did we just become best friends, Anon? Because you're speaking my language here. The Canes and Nessian are two of my all time favorite things!

First of all, I am both sorry and jealous you got to witness Saros unlock god-mode live. Because seriously, what the fuck? But you also got to see Patches' first game, so that is cool.

To answer your question, yes, the Hurricanes are my team. I've been a fan since freshman year of high school so around 15 years now. My fave player at the mo is Necas, but I will admit I'm scared to get his jersey because I have bad luck with those. Eric Staal, Jeffry Skinner, Elias Lindholm, Victor Rask... I actually own 4 Victor Rask jerseys, and that trade still haunts me. I literally cried in my office bathroom when it was announced.

To answer your second question, I read the first 3 books of the Off Campus series. Garrett Graham has my whole ass heart. I actually started the Goal but ended up stopping because I wasn't sure I could make it through an accidental pregnancy story, but honestly, you saying it has Nessian vibes straight up just convinced me to pick it back up again.

I'm not sure if I'd ever do an Off Campus type Nessian fic. For one, Who's Counting is already a college AU and features sports captain Cassian, even if it's soccer instead of hockey, so I'd fear they'd end up too similar in terms of story. But never say never.

I am, of course, planning a hockey player Cassian full blown chaptered Nessian fic for this year though! It will feature NHL defensemen Cassian because you cannot convince me that that man wouldn't be a D-man. He gets traded and is all sad because he doesn't know anyone in the new city, but then Feyre is like oh my sister lives there, and then, of course, shenanigans ensue.

[cassieuncaged]

Grave Bound - Chapter 8

Chapter 7

Summary: Elias and Maggie catch up while babysitting for the evening.

TW: language, etc.

WC 2 K

1973

The orange tabby stared daggers at Elias, green eyes glowing from the dim windowsill. Maggie sang Maura a lullaby in the other room, leaving the rest of the apartment in silence. Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, he tried to entice the cat to come closer. Maddy was clearly unimpressed as she hopped onto the floor. The cat mewled loudly before marching down the hall. Passing the feline, Maggie returned in a change of clothes. Sporting a button up shirt, the blouse was tied high enough to reveal a freckled navel. Elias tried not to stare, especially as she sat beside him on the sofa.

“Kiddo asleep?”

“Finally. At least Sharon and Jim kept the baby for the night. Abby can be a real handful. Thanks for staying.”

Their eyes met, lingering a little too long before Maggie looked down bashfully. Grinning, Elias reached out to squeeze a small hand in his own.

“Anytime, Mags.” Bringing sharp knuckles to his mouth, he gently kissed the woman’s hand. Heart pounding in her chest, she tried not to overthink the gesture. “God, I can’t believe I’m actually staring at that pretty face again. You know how many nights I dreamt of you?”

“You’ve dreamt of me?” Eyes wide, she could hardly imagine starring in anyone’s subconscious. Yet it was almost unbelievable how much she thought of him whenever tired eyes fluttered close.

“All the time. Especially when I was under for all of the surgeries. Felt like I spent an eternity with you. Almost like another life.”

“Was it a nice life we had together?”

“Hell, yeah.” Uneven teeth glistened in the lamplight, large hand falling to a denim clad knee. “But it stung when I came to and you weren’t there.”

“I’m here now,” she scooted closer to the man. Crystalline shone brightly in the dim room, peering into her soul.

“Don’t I know it,” her mere presence was palpable, crowned with ginger tendrils as a mixture of sandalwood and sugar tickled his nostrils. It was enough proof that this wasn’t some complicated illusion. “My chest doesn’t hurt, my leg isn’t howling. I’m convinced you’re magic.”

Watching sparkling eyes, his thumb scratched across soft skin once more before dropping down to a slender wrist. Even older and hardened by war, Maggie couldn’t help but admit that there was something boyish about the man. Beneath a shaggy mop of tawny locks, his ruggedness was undercut by bright blue eyes and pink cheeks.

“How’d you end up in Brooklyn?” It was a fair question with a complicated answer.

“Needed to put a safe distance between my father and I.” Calloused thumb circling her pulse point, Elias could feel her heart skip a beat. “Took a gamble and ended up in the city. Thought it was a waste for a while, but it beats getting a bitched at by my old man."

“I’m sorry.” Head bowing shyly, Maggie strived to not pity him. Afterall, she didn’t want pity either. “No one deserves that.”

“What’s important is that I’m here.” Voice barely a whisper, a clear gaze fell on cornflower as the room grew suddenly serious. Time moved like molasses as each moved closer, lips barely brushing. Warm breath mingled together as a large hand brushed over one cheek bone. Maggie’s fingers sought purchase in tawny waves as their kiss deepened.

Elias took the lead, carefully laying her back across one armrest. Muscular body eclipsing Maggie’s, he adjusted himself so his knees were awkwardly straddling slender hips. Thick hair curtained ruddy cheeks as the kiss continued with searching pecks, one palm flattening beside copper curls.

“What took you so long?” Maggie giggled, pressing her brow to his. Elias grinned into soft skin, eyes crinkling with sheer happiness.

“Should’ve kissed you back at that restaurant. To tell you the truth, I was scared you didn’t want me to.”

“I never want you to stop…” kisses were pressed into either corner of wide lips, being met with a chuckle. Craning up to meet chapped lips once more, they barely brushed before being interrupted by a sleepy intruder.

“What are you doing?” Maura stood at the mouth of the hallway, rubbing the sleep away from one eye. Both adults looked over in shock, exchanging a glance before hurrying to sit up. Elias jumped to his feet, crossing his arms awkwardly.

“Nothing. We weren’t doing anything.” Maggie patted the empty cushion. “What’re you doing up, kiddo?”

“Had a nightmare. Maddy jumped on the bed and scared me.” The girl dutifully padded to her aunt’s side while eyeing the woman suspiciously.

“Are you sure you weren’t doing anything?” Maura asked once more as she was covered with a knit blanket.

“Nothing. Scout’s honor!” The red head held up three fingers, hoping this would satiate the youngster’s curiosity.

“A girl at school said she caught her parent’s necking and it looked just like that.” Neither was expecting such a blatant account from the kid. Elias bit back a laugh as Maggie’s jaw dropped.

“You’re too young to be worrying about things like that.” Maggie chirped with a wave of embarrassment, cheeks-tinged pink.

“I wasn’t the one who said it, Aunt Maggie.” Maura shrugged, suppressing a yawn. Nothing was as shocking as the undaunted confidence children possessed.

“Well, your mother and I might be having a chat.” The red head added sternly, trying to ignore the heat that washed over her face.

“I’m sorry,” the girl pouted, fighting embarrassment. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Can you tuck me back in?”

“Sure,” stretching to bare feet, suede blue snagged on Elias for a moment, “I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time, sweetheart.” Meandering back to the sofa, the veteran slumped down into the inviting cushions. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Sweetheart.

Her heart zinged at the nickname, feeling light as she scooped up Maura and marched into the other room.

“I like him,” the little girl yawned into shoulder, balling up a fistful of Maggie’s blouse in one hand.

“Yeah? I like him too.” Whispering back there was no answer as the girl expelled little whistles from flared nostrils. Flicking on the bedroom light, Maggie tucked her niece back in. Lingering for a moment, she grinned broadly.

She was falling in love. Again.

*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*

Maggie sat cross legged on the sofa, focusing on the next row stitched into a maroon scarf. Elias dutifully fed her yarn from the skein, enjoying their domestic moments together. The record player crackled in the background.

“You’ll really wear this?” needles clacked together as the garment was conjured.

“Course I will. I’ll wear anything you give me.” Sinking into the sofa, Elias was shocked he wasn’t high. Now was the time a blunt was rolled and enjoyed, curbing the chance of nightmares while he slept. But any tension in broad shoulders or paranoia melted away with the calming presence of his Maggie.

“Remember that Lady of Guadalupe pendant?”

“How could I forget?” hazy memories of hot jungle nights flooded the folds of his brain. Elias could practically feel the hammock sway beneath him, the nurse pressed flush against a bare chest. The silver jewelry was brought up to pink lips like a communion wafer.

I’m blessing it. That was the answer received when he’d ask what she was doing. Silver burned against bare skin at the thought. Adjusting the yarn in his hand, one thumb yanked a chain from beneath a flannel collar. Needles ceased to clack at the revelation. Leaning closer, Maggie assessed the jewelry while the scarf was all but forgotten.

“You kept it.” It wasn’t a question, just a statement drenched in sheer adoration.

“Wear it every damn day.” Elias was pulled forward as one lithe finger hooked the chain. It may have simply been a ploy to get closer, her sweet breath fanning across a lean throat as Maggie practically crawled into his lap. Maw open in disbelief, pink lips were open wide as she gaped at the necklace. Barely the size of her index finger, she could remember the pendant. Maybe it had kept him safe, brought her Elias back. “Here.”

Leaning backwards, Elias peeled his dog tags off before draping them over wild curls. Cobalt met clear irises as soft thumbs traced the raised edges of his name. The tinny tags were gently tucked beneath the collar of her blouse, resting over her heart. He’d always be safe there.

“It’s not a diamond or a bouquet of roses.” Rubbing the back of his neck nervously, he wasn’t sure how to continue the sentiment. Instead, Maggie pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“I don’t want diamonds or flowers. I’ve only ever wanted you…” then their lips were searching each other’s, yarn unceremoniously cast aside. Parting after both were breathlessly sated, the woman slid to her feet. Padding to the linen closet, the door creaked open. Standing on her tip toes, Maggie reached for a faded blue hat box before it fell into her arms.

“What’ve you got there?” Elias crossed his legs, making room for his other half and the box being toted. Silently setting it on one cushion, slender fingers pulled off the lid. Inside were two neat stacks of faded stationery and notebook paper. Some were hastily folded into sloppy triangles while others were sealed with rose colored wax.

“I called the operator and got your parents’ address once I was discharged. But I didn’t even know if you’d made it or met someone else. I wrote you all of these letters.” sitting back down, she swallowed the tears bubbling up her throat. “I just never had the nerve to send any.”

Looking up for permission, Maggie nodded encouragingly. Elias picked one with curling edges, folded in half. In spite of the flowery handwriting, it spoke of depression and pain while the nurse struggled to move on. He welled up, feeling the grief and loneliness that was captured on the page. Punctuated with Love, Maggie at the end, he was desperate rekindle that.

I’ll always love you, ‘Lias.

The words were hastily jotted beneath the p.s. Heart heavy and sore, Elias wished he could undo the ache both lived with. Maggie had revealed her soul, completely raw and vulnerable. An unmistakable trust between the two still remained.

“You meant that? Every one of those words?” Still reading over the letter, he struggled to digest it.

“Every last one. You’re all I thought about for the longest time.” Digging through the box with renewed determination, Elias watched with piqued interest.

“Looking for something special?”

“I’d taken a picture of Maddy and I when she was a kitten,” pulling a faded yellow letter away from the rest, it was thrust towards Elias. “I always wanted to show it to you.”

Smirking at her childlike giddiness, he unwrapped the edges to find an instant photograph inside. A small, orange kitten sat on the shoulder of a periwinkle housecoat, practically blending in with ginger curls. Maggie’s nose was crinkled, lips spread with sheer delight.

“You mind if I read through the rest of these?”

“Keep the box. Just don’t read the rest of them in front of me…I’ll die of embarrassment.” Leaning in close, he pressed a kiss atop her head.

*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*

She’d fallen asleep, nuzzled into his neck. It was past midnight when Elias woke on the sofa, a familiar weight anchoring him down. Stray curls tickled his upper lip as bleary eyes adjusted to the light. Maggie stirred as a large hand rubbed circles between her shoulder blades.

“Lias?” she whispered, breath hot on his skin.

“I’m here, Mags.” He shushed her softly, pressing his nose against strawberry curls.

“Promise you’ll be here in the morning?” she bargained sleepily, earning an amused chuckle.

“I’d never leave you, wild child.” And there was never a doubt in either of their minds that he would.

[thezolblade]

Anon from the fic! Wow!!!!!!!!! That outline!!!!!! Do you want to share any more hints about those three branches?

Sure! (This is partly making up more details as I go along, which means making progress with the draft.) Below the cut for spoilers:

So I've got three routes following after Reckoning now - see also that last ask. After Jon attacks Tim and scares Martin into cooperating again:

Retaliation. Sasha and Tim burn down the Institute (with Leitner's help). Jon's hurt by the archive's destruction, but he survives, at the others' mercy.

Relocation. Martin talks Jon into asking Elias to transfer them both to one of the Institute's sister organizations, citing irreconcilable differences with the rest of the team. (They know at that point that they're also temples to Beholding, and hope they'll be granted this even if they can't quit.) Since this is roughly at the point in the timeline when Jonah wanted to put some distance between himself and Jon to avoid being compelled (iirc he mentioned that he'd have gone on a trip if he hadn't been arrested), he ends up sending them to open a second branch of the Magnus Institute in Edinburgh, close to its original site.

Respectable fears. Jon takes the Institute from Jonah, and carries on maintaining the Archives while running the whole organisation. He keeps Martin as his personal assistant, and gets more calculated in manipulating him without breaking him, fending off numb depression by asking him to research enemies that they can fight to save lives, and making the rules more structured in private. Meanwhile, he sends Tim to investigate the Unknowing, and tries to decide whether he'll be too dangerous to keep hold of long term. When Sasha's ready to give up on changing things, he offers her a consultancy role, so that she can stay on his payroll, but spend her time on projects at other organizations, and she takes that as the best deal she can get.

Hints about the other routes, hmm...

Reconciliation: The first night, when Jon realizes he may have fucked up beyond anything that Martin will put up with for long, his first reaction, instead of figuring out some brilliant way of handling that, is to retreat to his room for a cigarette. Martin waits on the sofa, wishing he hadn't admitted that he doesn't like being shouted at or shoved around, because now he's getting the silent treatment, and it's only a matter of time before he's kicked out... Until he hears Jon light a second cigarette, and realizes he ought to go talk to him, or he might just hide and chain smoke all night.

Subjugation: Here's a bit of dialogue from the first night. A lot of conversations go a slightly different direction in my drafts than in the initial notes, and sometimes unused lines come up again later, so this level of detail is the most subject to change, but it might be an interesting read anyway:

Martin could feel himself blushing hard enough that the tips of his ears were burning. "If I'd ever imagined that we had a chance, I wouldn't have wanted our first time to go this way. It's late, and we were both tired and upset going into this, a-and I'm glad I've cheered you up, but I guess it doesn't feel like we're going about things the right way to make it last, or make it special."

"What would you like to do, to make it special?" Jon's tone was light and faintly mocking.

Martin took a second to collect his thoughts, treating it as a serious question. It wasn't as if he stood to lose anything by making a few suggestions.

"Why don't we get ourselves hot drinks, and cuddle on the sofa until we're ready to fall asleep? Then maybe tomorrow, we could talk about our likes and dislikes. You know, books, music, TV, food, all that sort of thing, a-as well as sex. How does that sound?" Martin tried to smile as he waited for an answer. The silence stretched on, and he couldn't help but get psyched out. "Uh, shall I go make us some tea?"

"Not yet."

"Oh?"

"Take off your clothes. I haven't even seen you yet."

Martin hesitated, but Jon looked quite intent on doing this now.

"Oh, okay." Martin clenched his fingers in his t-shirt, then glanced at the bags he'd left next to the bed. "If we're going to be up for a while longer, why don't I grab my phone and put some music on? That could be, ah, relaxing."

"I don't need mood music. I need to know what you're capable of."

"...Oh." Martin heard his own voice go quiet, and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to pull himself together. Jon was making it fairly clear that he didn't care about setting him at ease, and he still wasn't in the mood to take no for an answer. Hadn't he better play along before he lashed out again?

[damnhotmsimmons]

17x02-Contagion

I'm being slow with the reaction posts, will try not to let that happen again

Ugh Tyler and Rebecca working together

Rebecca needing more information before signing off on whatever Tyler needs to do and call for help

Tyler saying "I know a guy"

So we know more of Tyler's military background

His background is psychological operations in the army like disinformation

Him also having friends doing off the books work for him

Ugh, we know more about Tyler's military background than Luke and Matt, especially Matt

Rebecca being tired of Tyler

Playing by the rules is not Tyler's forte nor Rossi's

I'm getting the beginning of a father and son bond with Rossi and Tyler and idk how to feel about it

The team having a case

The team possibly traveling on a case but they won't leave Tyler alone with Garcia

Tara offering to volunteer to stay behind with Tyler and looking out for Garcia

Tara winking at Garcia

JJ talking to Elias in prison

Luke pretending to be Will on the phone and Elias overhearing the conversation JJ is having with "Will"

Elias thinking about his family at that point

I wished Elias was a foil to JJ and not Rossi

Philip blaming himself for his parents' deaths

So Philip's mom sent him away

The father used to teach at a behavioral modification program

Emily is probably thinking about Bailey in that scene

Rossi and Emily clashing over the case

Rebecca texting in car. Could've put it on silent

The Tyler, Rebecca and Tara scenes are so funny

The car scene is making me laugh with Rebecca texting loudly and Tara and Tyler being annoyed and done

Like put the phone on silent

It’s so hilarious how Tyler is just involved in the Tebecca drama and their petty arguing lol

Rebecca looking good in that leather jacket

Lol, Tyler looks like a scare child afraid of pissing either one of them off and wishing he was anywhere but here

I loved how good Rebecca looked

This scene is like straight from the office

Tara sleeping in the car and Rebecca waking up

Rebecca has been keeping watch

Poor Tyler, the vegan food not agreeing with him

Tara looking all snuggled up with her jacket as a blanket

What does Rebecca know about gold star

Rebecca not knowing that it would get Bailey killed

Rebecca telling Tara that she's being set up to take the fall should there be any repercussions

Rebecca wishing she could've asked about gold star

And how some things in her job is better not to know

Tara not wanting Rebecca to die cause of gold star and Rebecca also not wanting Tara to get hurt

Aw, their little smiles and moment

How bad was that vegan food?

Wait, did Tara fart in the car? I thought Rebecca was gonna vomit but nope

Wait, Tyler lying to Tara and Rebecca and going through the different files in the apartment. He hasn't change

international passports?

Tyler back in the car and lying again

Rebecca getting a text and learning that Elias is up to something

Emily admitting her confirmation bias

Oh no not the first scene from the trailer

What is Elias' secret?

It's a trap Luke

It's a trap

Shit Luke, why?

Shit, what does that mean, the “Injure, Jean, Fear”?

What does that even mean tho?

If you notice the the letters perfectly rearrange to spell Jennifer Jareau

The words could easily be trigger words for a sleeper agent/manchurian candidate which is gold star

could be gold star and they may be brainwashed and now after someone said those words they’re on a killing spree

Jesus Christ

Shit, that's dark

I hate how it's an anagram that the words spell out Jennifer Jareau

[niphuial]

"I know, Mommy. I saw you," Elias whispers, nuzzling closer to Caroline and breathing in her scent. "Uncle Anders told me I was just seeing things though, and he said you were with Grandma Liz...." he turns and follows his mother's gaze to Niklaus, curiosity shining in his amber gaze as he shivers, joints beginning to pop loudly. "You know Uncle Nik?"

Katerina hugs Elijah, tears in her eyes. "I may have broken your rule about making hybrids, but her wolf....she was so scared of Vampires, and I didn't know how she'd react to you--she'd barely stay near me." She breathes in Elijah's scent, resting heavily against him. "I had to use my Alpha voice," she admits guiltily, feeling Elijah's arms curl around her. "I've never done that before. Ever. To see it force her to follow my orders--even though she didn't want to...to force her to drink my blood....it was..." She shook her head. "She needs blood," she murmurs, voice soft. "And I need some meat."

______

Finn wraps an arm around Rebekah, pulling her close. "Yes, Princess. We will be." He whispered, pressing a kiss to her head.

_______

Lucian shrugged. "They aren't used to us yet, is all. How about we compel him to take on an apprentice or two. The enchanter brings in good money for the village, so killing him right now isn't a good idea, so instead we do that? He hates kids but they have to start young to pick everything they need to know up." He smirks at Kol. "It's a longer suffering punishment and then you can kill him after he finishes teaching them."

this would be fun to watch

[msmorningstaarr]

Spoiler from Chapter 9

Hey! It’s been a while since I don’t post anything related to Holy and Heathen but I have to be honest with you guys and confess that I feel not so motivated writing it because just how I was talking to @martellspear and @sunsetstarrogue I don’t like where the story’s going, but these two helped me not giving up on the story and for this I must be thankful for you, sweet ladies 💕 I hope you enjoy this little sneak peek I prepared for you because I had an inspiration moment and started working on more chapters for this fanfic. Indulge yourselves 💕

———

Melara slumbered peacefully on his arms as the glimpses of sunshine made its way throughout his private quarters. Her blonde hair was messy and wild in a way he only saw on their first night.

The warmth of her body innocently rubbing against his caused a sensation of comfort and relaxation. He had to admit that his life seemed too different and full of guilt as deeper he dived into marital life, but the little lady had nothing to do with it. His fingers traced where he assaulted her. The bruises were disappearing, although still visible. No man should ever be cruel towards a lady, especially when the lady in question was his own lady wife and the day they fought still haunted him until this day, even after her forgiveness.

Last night, he left that tavern adamant on his decision to make that feast as chaotic as possible. Wine had taken control over his head and he wanted to torment his mother, Melara, the drunk ones in the dance floor or simply anyone who would cross his path. He was angry at the world that Elia seemed so happy without him around. Jealousy screamed in his ears as he imagined dragon seed sowing inside of Elia instead of his own. As he rode back to the castle that night, he wanted everyone to feel at least a small part of everything he felt regarding Elia’s pregnancy… until he saw those scared eyes of Melara, not blinking for a moment once Oberyn extended his hand at her for a dance.

The memory of his lady wife’s frightened gaze made his mind go on a spiral of turmoil and he realised that he had no right to interfere and ruin one more thing for her, not that night. The more he would talk to her, the more he could see the vulnerability through her eyes and how scared of him she was, it struck a chord within him, awakening a sense of responsibility and remorse. As the prince gently ran his fingers over the fading bruises, he couldn't shake the guilt that gnawed at him. No matter how much he tried to justify his actions as a means to cope with his own frustrations, he knew he had crossed a line.

Oberyn could not upgrade his feelings towards Lady Melara from one day to another swiftly. However, after being inside her walls - beyond fucking her, the dornish prince could see more and more of her human side. He noticed her fingers intertwining on his every time she wished to speak. He noticed her eyes narrowing as her cheeks blushed once he spoke some explicit sentence. He grinned at how clumsy she could be at times when she would dance with him. He could finally appreciate how soft her lips were every time his own lips encountered hers. Maybe it was still the fear and suspicion over him, but Oberyn finally would feel like his lonely star was falling from the sky and being nearer to him, to become human.

[marlasomething]

(my) Mag a Week Special Feature: Threatening Fluff

Hello there!

Here is the thing: I am participating in the "a mag a day" idea by @a-mag-a-day  which is BRILLIANT and I decided to do "statement a week", rolling dice with the characters and fears that were ftw that week in the episodes I have listened. But, then, I thought...what if I made some special features for when each season finishes? And then the mid-seasons breaks camen and I thought...YEAH, THOSE TWO, VERY SHORT FLUFFY-ESQUE FICS! For this ones, I will roll to see who the main character is and what fear do they serve

For season three break (published already on S4 SHAME ON ME) I've gotten Georgie Barker as main character and as a The Dark avatar.

As usual, please do forgive my quick tipper and non-native speaker mistakes, Marla

Allons-y!

CW: the Dark very slight usual content, threatening behaviour that can be considered...moraly condenable

Also on AO3!

Georgie would never forget the moment in which Manuela Dominguez, a teacher assistant from some of those science degrees with extremely long names she made an explicit effort to forget held her hand as she faced Death in the most literal manner possible.

She was about to have the strongest existential crisis ever, to even forget how to be afraid, just in order to survive, as a mere copying mechanism that would change her life. Instead, a woman she had barely crossed a few words in the cafeteria brought her back to the rest of reality (all that escaped the staring corpse in front of her) and said, in a voice loud enough to anyone present to hear: “It doesn’t really matter, death or alive, none of us do matter. Isn’t that…liberating?”

And, see, any other day, Georgie would have likely punch anyone with such a take in the face (especially when they used the weakest moment of a person to mould their thoughts and believes as they wished), but, in that moment, believing it made her felt liberated from the impossible situation she had seen herself caught upon and the fear that was about to leave her body for good clung into this new purpose she could embrace.

She held Manuela’s hand closer and never completely let it go.

  Everybody knew Mike Fairchild (born Crew, before being adopted after his childhood fortunate accident) was dating the guy who killed Leitner, Georgie’s ex’s step-sibling and the eldest of the kids the Victorian Asshole that now went by Elias Bouchard had adopted when he had seen the potential for serving the Beholding they had. Gerry and him were, actually, a rather cute couple (as even Gerry’s little brother and Georgie’s aforementioned ex, Jon, begrudgingly admitted).

However, that didn’t matter to Georgie Barker, that felt obliged, as an Avatar of one of the Fears that prayed on people rather similar to the ones The Vast did (at least, in their smallness in comparison to the rest of the World) and an actual friend of said Gerry, to threat the chaotic, little, for some reason a bit French-looking, scared man when she officially knew.

Of course, she counted with the help of The Admiral, that, as a cat influenced by The Beholding, The Dark and The Lonely (Peter loved the animal, much more than his in-and-out husband or even a teeny tiny more than The Tundra itself).

Mike, losing even more skin pigmentation after the attack , just nodded and, before he left after making clear he got the message of what would happen to him if Gerry got hurt by him by any means, he muttered:

“You are even worse than that Gertrude Robinson” to what she just shrugged and commented:

“Well, I think she would have made a better podcaster than me, having she chosen that path instead of reading to a bloody tape recorder”.

And left, she had a date with a certain Slaughter Avatar and she didn’t want to be late, even if the other woman didn’t like to taste new and spicy foods.

[dabookgoblin]

finding out that Gertrude the terror™ told Elias that she was so motivated to torment the entities bc the desolation messed with her cat is so funny and as a cat owner myself, I can 100% believe some college student seeing their beloved pet get messed with by an eldritch concept of fear and go "not for fucking long, bitch." and then go on a decades long crusade being the bane of everyone's existence. amazing, an absolute force of nature.

[hugheshugs]

Hey Bestie

How about jealous possessive Quinn hughes?

quinn wasn't the jealous type, at least for as long as you'd known him—which, in his defence, wasn't very long.

you met him a year ago at a house party, the two of you too shy to have fun as it was clearly out of your comfort zones at the time. the people you both had come with were mutual friends who basically left you two alone together, and you'd never left each other's sides ever since.

before we start—you weren't dating.

no, you were strictly off limits in his head. he didn't want to ruin the amazing friendship he already had with you. was he scared? yes. would he ever admit it? absolutely not.

everyone knew he had feelings for you and that you had feelings for him, but it seemed to be more of an unspoken rule that no one uttered a single word about it to your faces. you both knew you had feelings for each other, you were just too nervous to act on them.

as if things couldn't get worse, his friends decided to create a full circle moment. elias and brock were throwing a season kickoff party for god knows what reason, something about unfinished business. of course you were invited, along with nearly a hundred other people you didn't recognize.

quinn was late. you were starting to think maybe he wouldn't show up as you leaned against the kitchen island, watching nils and elias on the dance floor.

"hello, my friend!" a loud russian voice broke you out of your thoughts. you held back a frightened jump, looking up at the young canuck.

"hey, podz," you grinned. "what's up?"

"where's your boy? i've been looking for him."

your cheeks flushed. "he's not my boy."

"oh, he is not?" he perked up, swirling the drink in his hand. "i have a friend i like you to meet."

before you could politely decline, he gently grabbed your hand and brought you outside. the cold vancouver air hit your face and you wished for nothing more than to be back inside.

"this my friend mickey," he introduced.

the boy was tall... that was all he had going for him. his hair was unkept, his outfit screamed douche and the cigarette in his hand completely turned you off.

"hi, i'm y/n. nice to meet you."

"nice to meet you too," he looked you up and down, vasily somehow completely oblivious. "you've got pretty lips."

your eyes crinkled at his bold statement and you held back the urge to say what the fuck? i just met you.

"okay.." you looked down at the ground, shifting under his uncomfortable gaze. you shivered as another gust of wind hit you.

"do you want my jacket?"

you immediately shook your head. "no, no. it's okay, i'm not cold."

"i can see you shivering, babe. here, it's no problem," he insisted, shrugging his leather jacket off before placing it over your shoulders.

"thank you," you mumbled, fiddling with your fingers.

it felt wrong. all you wanted was quinn, who you didn't know was inside searching for you. he'd arrived merely moments after you'd been brought outside and you were nowhere to be seen.

he checked the kitchen, the basement, the dance floor, the living room—everywhere. he even asked your friends who said they hadn't seen you since you got here which only concerned him even more.

his worried eyes caught sight of brock's and he rushed towards him, trying his best not to knock anyone over.

"boes, have you seen y/n? i-i can't find her, i don't know where she is and she told me she was here. i've checked everywhere," he ran an anxious hand through his hair. "you've gotta help me find her."

"bro, i just saw her outside two seconds ago. you sure you checked everywhere," brock chuckled lightly, shoving his shoulder playfully.

"oh my god," he groaned to which brock laughed harder. "i hate you."

he immediately made his way to the back porch, brock following behind him as they saw you alone with a guy they didn't recognize. quinn stopped in his tracks, looking back at brock who gave him the same look.

"who the fuck is that guy?"

"i don't know but.. is she wearing his jacket," brock squinted, trying to get a better look.

the feeling in quinn's chest was unrecognizable. it was a burning rage, a flaming heat he'd never felt before. his heart thumped rapidly against his chest, his fingers clenched into fists and his jaw turned sharper than ever.

before brock could hold him back, he was already walking towards you. brock texted elias immediately, not knowing what was about to happen but he wanted him to be here incase quinn did something stupid.

mickey was actually quite charming after some cleaner words came out of his mouth. you were laughing at one of his jokes as the jacket around your shoulders fell to the ground and a familiar arm snaked around your waist.

"quinn!" you exclaimed, giving him a smile. he didn't return it back, almost making you cower back but you shrugged it off. "this is mickey, he's podz's friend."

oh, quinn was sure to give his teammate an earful at practice. he simply glared at the boy who took a drag from his cigarette.

"get the fuck away from her."

your throat ran dry at quinn's unexpected words, mickey nearly choking.

"quinn," you gasped. "don't be rude."

"i'm not being rude, he's getting too close to you and you're mine. back the fuck off," he held his ground, holding you firmly.

"okay, okay," mickey held his hands up in surrender. "didn't know she was yours, little dude."

he walked away and laughter flooded both your ears from behind. you turned to find brock and elias hunched over in hysterics, furrowing your eyebrows before looking back at quinn.

"what was that? what's gotten into you, he was being nice," you frowned, watching his eyes shift from a soft gaze back to the hard one he was sporting just a minute ago.

he let you go and shuffled over to the jacket on the ground, stepping on it aggressively before kicking it away.

"he wasn't being nice," he turned back to you. "guys like that aren't nice to girls like you without a good reason."

"quinn, that's mean."

he sighed before taking a deep breath. you were right, he'd gone way too far. the more brock and elias kept laughing, the more you wanted to join them but you had to keep a straight face.

"you're right, i'm sorry. i don't know what got into me—"

"you were jealous," the boys walked over, elias swinging his arm around quinn's shoulders. "admit it, you were jealous."

brock did the same to you and you smiled up at him. "he was just talking, quinn. you were so mean, plus you kicked his jacket into the mud over there."

quinn's head whipped towards where brock's hand pointed and his face clenched in disbelief. the expensive leather jacket was covered in thick mud and he couldn't believe what he'd done because of a stupid emotion he'd never felt until now.

"okay.. maybe i was a little jealous."

"we know you were, little dude."