#even ELIAS admitted he was scared of her

[passionxwrites]

Summer Romance 4

Pairings: ModernAU! Elias "Stack" Moore x BlaclOC! (Cymone) x Elijah "Smoke" Moore

Warnings: MDNI, cursing, use of N word, a dash of angst, some fluff, Mary being Mary

Word Count: 4.9K

Masterlist

Stack

Stack stared Cymone down as she stood across from him, fiddling with the ends of her shirt, refusing to look him in the eye. They had long since helped her grandma put away the groceries. Soon after the woman retired to her room upstairs saying she wasn’t in the mood to cook for nobody grown tonight. Now it was just them and the silence.

“You wanna know how I knew you was different,” Stack finally spoke bringing life back into the quiet room.

Cymone slowly glanced up from her hands and looked at him but still not in the eye. Stack could only grin knowing she was scared shitless.

“How,” she said as she finally found her voice.

“You was ten. Duke had been telling us how you had started running away to stay at his house cause of yo folks. It was the first time he had really brought you around us. I saw you and asked Duke since when he had a lil brother. You punched me square in the jaw before I could even blink,” he said with a laugh as recounted the day.

“I knew then you was gone always be there to hand me my ass when I took it too far. Something I needed.”

“Man please. Smoke do the same thing,” she mumbled as if she didn’t believe him.

“Yeah but he don’t do it like you. You got this way about you that screams confidence. Like you can’t be fucked with and it ain’t just cause you can fight. It’s your whole demeanor. I ain’t never seen nothing like it no matter who I came across.”

Cymone’s presence left big shoes to fill when the twins left. Stack looked for that same fiery spirit unknowingly in every woman he met but they could never be her.

“My daddy killed my mama that day y���all left,” Cymone admitted quietly. Stack stared at her in disbelief as he noticed her eyes had once again found the floor.

“I was so mad when y’all left cause I went to look for y’all that night and I saw that yellow tape outside and I immediately thought the worst cause of what had already happened. I finally got a hold of Duke and he said y’all daddy was killed in a robbery gone wrong and y’all had left to go stay with some family but he couldn’t tell me where.”

Stack looked down at his hands for a minute before he looked up to see her already looking at him with tears in her eyes. It was obvious something in her had broken that day and they had only made it worse by disappearing without a trace. Him and Smoke wanted to say bye to Cymone before they left that day. Hell, he even wanted to tell her where they was going so they could keep in touch but Smoke said it wouldn’t be safe for her because of what they had done.

“Punkin, I ain’t gone ever be able to say sorry enough for how we left. We was running from some shit. Some shit I can’t tell you bout right now but I’m sorry we wasn’t here after ya mama passed. We shoulda been there for that,” he said softly as he wrapped his arms around her and rested his head on top of hers.

They stood there for a few minutes and Stack could feel Cymone’s breathing even out before he pulled back some and rested his forehead against hers.

“Me and Smoke gone take you out tomorrow. You can ask whatever you need to and we can figure all this out together,” he said, not really leaving much room for Cymone to say no.

“Okay, what time I need to be ready,” she asked almost timidly while looking up at him through her long lashes.

“We gone pick you up round 12. Take you to brunch at Char,” he said with a smile on his face knowing that was one of her favorite places from stalking her instagram.

“Okay, I’ll see y’all then.”

Stack continued to look down at her as he took her in. If he could etch her face into his brain so it would be the first and last thing he saw everyday he would. No woman had ever had him this wrapped around their finger. The man was too whipped.

With a kiss on the forehead Stack bid her a farewell as he trotted out of her house and to his jeep outside. A smile was permanently on his face knowing they were closer than ever to having Cymone. He damn near felt like he had won the lottery. That smile stayed on his face the whole 15 minute drive to him and Smoke’s home. He pulled his truck in beside his brothers car and just as he hopped out he finally took notice of the smoke grey Kia parked on the street. His eyes furrowed a little due to not recognizing the truck and his instinct had him reaching for his pistol on his hip. Just as he got his hand around the gun somebody stepped out and he quickly cursed under his breath.

It would be this crazy bitch.

“It’s a shame I gotta follow you around the city just to have a conversation with you Elias.”

“What the hell you want Mary,” Stack huffed out aggressively as he ignored her approaching frame while walking up to the front door. He unlocked it and walked in noticing her following quickly behind him. He whipped his body around to block her from gaining entry into their home.

“I ain’t invite you in,” he said matter of factly garnering the attention of his older brother who was exiting the kitchen. From the corner of his eye he could see Smoke peeking around his shoulder before shaking his head after seeing who it was.

“Handle that,” Smoke said simply as he continued on down the hall to his room. Stack heard his door close and turned his attention back to the nuisance in front of him.

“You know what I want Elias. I want you!”

“Lower your got damn voice,” he hissed as he looked past her to see if anyone could hear her acting a ass.

“I already told yo ass ain’t no us Mary! You married to that nice white man like you need to be. Me and you was never a thing and we ain’t gone ever be no thing.”

“You and Smoke made me marry that man. I never wanted to be with him! I’m unhappy sleeping with somebody I don’t wanna be with. I should be with you.”

“We ain’t make you marry nobody. I told you it would be safer for you to be with him cause we wasn’t no good and you ran and did it cause you so hell bent on doing whatever you think gone make me happy. Newsflash Mary, you was a nut. Nothin more and nothin less.”

Mary drew her head back like she was appalled before she reared her hand back as if she was gone slap him. Stack quickly caught it and threw it down to her side.

“So I ain’t good enough for you but that lil bitch Cymone is?”

Before Mary could get the question out good enough Stack already had her shirt balled up in his hand as he yanked her close to him.

“Imma say this to ya hard headed ass once and once only. Don’t ever open yo mouth to call Cymone out her name. She ain’t to be disrespected,” he spat out with venom before he all but tossed her back and slammed the door in her face ending the conversation. He knew this wouldn’t be the end of Mary. She felt as though she was entitled to him and she wasn’t gone give up till she had him.

Stack sat down on the couch and rubbed his temples feeling a headache coming on. Today had been a lot and he needed a drink before he took it in for the night. Just as he was about to get up and go to the kitchen he could hear a door open before footsteps came down the hall.

“You check that bitch?”

“Yeah nigga. Fuck I look like?”

“Look like a nigga that need to keep it in his pants but what do I know,” Smoke said with a lil chuckle as he followed Stack into the kitchen.

“Akikiki funny ass nigga. Glad I could be yo entertainment for the night,” Stack said as he yanked down a bottle of Hennessy and proceeded to pour it into a glass and throw it back.

“I knew that white girl was gone be trouble but I tell yo ass this, she touch Cymone and I’ll kill her,” Smoke said and Stack knew that he meant that with everything in him. They didn’t play about Cymone and it wouldn't be the first time somebody was killed behind her. She didn’t know that though.

“I told her we gone take her to Char tomorrow. Let her ask her questions. Get used to us,” Stack said as he leaned against the counter.

“Good, good. Tired of chasing after her lil ass.”

“Yeah she is slippery,” Stack said with a mischievous smirk letting the words hang in the air.

Smoke slowly turned to him with a squint in his eye before he chuckled.

“Keep yo hands to yo self tomorrow. At least until we get everything out on the table.”

“I’ll try my best,” he said with his hands raised.

Smoke

Smoke got up with a start early the next morning at 5 am before the sun had even risen so he could do his morning jog. He quickly brushed his teeth and threw on a dri-fit shirt and a pair of shorts and hit the door. After he ran a mile he made his way back to the house to see Stack just finishing up his morning workout in the backyard.

“Mornin.”

“Mornin. Aye Duke called last night after you went to sleep. Said he think he found somebody to be the cook down at the club.”

“Bet. That’s the last thing we need. We get a cook we can be open next Friday,” Smoke said with a nod of his head. Everything had been going to plan with the club and the twins were excited to finally open and make good on their investment. They had almost everything riding on this club.

Smoke looked down at his watch and noticed it was nearing 10 am and decided it was time to shower so they could go pick up Cymone. After an hour both twins were dressed and outside of Cymone’s house. Smoke decided it would be best to go get her instead of texting that they were outside. He walked up to the door and rang the doorbell holding onto the bouquet of sunflowers tight. He had never been on a date before so he was a lil nervous. A few seconds later the door opened to none other than her grandma.

“Good morning Ms. Loretta,” Smoke said with a polite smile.

“Good morning Elijah. Let me guess those are for my baby,” she spoke back with a little smile on her face.

“Yes ma’am. May I come in?”

“Sure sweetie. Tell Elias he might as well get on out that hot car cause that girl ain’t nowhere near ready,” she stated as she held the door open for him. Smoke turned and nodded his head signaling for his brother to get out the car as he began walking into the house. It always smelled sweet like peaches in there. Ms. Etta didn’t play about keeping her house in order.

Smoke and Stack made themselves comfortable on the couch and Ms. Etta sat across from them on her favorite arm chair.

“She gone be a lil minute. She a lil nervous but while we wait I wanna talk to you boys,” she said as she looked at the both of them.

Smoke sat up straighter in his seat realizing that this was going to be something serious and he noticed Stack slide his phone into his pocket. She had their undivided attention.

“Now I don’t have a problem with you two courtin my baby. It’s a lil unorthodox but people been doing this since before I was born so who I am to judge,” she took a slight pause before she continued pinning them to the couch with the most pointed look they had ever seen.

“My Punkin done been through a lot. Some stuff yall know and some yall don’t. The point I am making is fellas is that I will live and die by that girl because I couldn’t do it for her mother. If one of yall hurt her in any way I will make sure that there will be some slow singing and flower bringing shortly after. Do we have an understanding?”

Both men quickly threw out a yes ma’am understanding just where the older woman was coming from and neither wanted to get on her bad side.

“Great, now that that’s settled let me see what’s taking these girls so long. Cymone know she love to keep somebody waiting.”

“I heard that,” Cymone yelled down the stairs just as Reana began to emerge from the second level.

“Hey there Ben and Jerry. She’ll be down in a couple seconds,” she said with laughter knowing the nicknames got under their skin.

“I bet you get on yo own mama nerves,” Stack said with a frown on his face as she took a seat on the arm of the couch.

“Yeah. So,” she asked with her lips turned up as she looked down at her phone. Smoke felt a smirk growing on his lips as he knew just what to say to get her ass back.

“Sammie said y’all had a realll good time after y’all date a couple nights ago,” he said insinuating he knew what happened after they ate dinner.

Reana instantly straightened where she sat before she turned her head to him. Her face was set into the meanest scowl she could muster.

“You lucky we in Ms. Etta house or I’d let you know something. Tell your cousin to stop calling me,” she said just as she turned her attention to the stairs and a little squeal came from her. Almost like a pig. Smoke and Stack both followed her line of vision to Cymone descending down the stairs.

She came down so gracefully it almost looked like she was floating. Smoke was amazed at the very being that was her. She had on a yellow sundress with pink flowers. On her feet she wore a pair of heels with a bunch of straps that were tied up to her calf and her hair was styled in a bun at the back of her head. Smoke quickly rose to his feet the minute her foot hit the last step and grasped the flowers in his hand. She walked over to stand in front of the both of them and he noticed Stack was already standing as well with his hands behind his back as he rocked back and forth on his feet.

I know this nigga ain’t nervous.

Cymone was obviously affecting the both of them greatly and she didn’t even realize how much.

“These are for you,” Smoke said a lil too fast for his own liking as he held the flowers out for her to take. Cymone stared at the both of them with a knowing smile on her face like she could see the nerves bouncing between them.

“You niggas nervous,” Reana interjected as she looked over the two men in disbelief.

Smoke narrowed his eyes over at her and he could hear Stack muttering a ‘shut the fuck up’ low enough so Ms. Etta wouldn’t hear him.

“Chill Re,” Cymone finally spoke as her angelic giggle filled the room. She took the flowers from Smoke as she leaned in to give him a hug.

“Thank you Jah,” she said as she called him by the nickname she had given him years ago. She would call him Jah and call Stack Eli. Always said she didn’t wanna be like everybody else and call them Smoke and Stack all the time because they weren’t just Smoke and Stack to her.

“You boys look nice. I guess I’ll let y’all take me out in public,” she said with a smirk as she handed the flowers off to Reana, gave her grandma a hug, and grabbed her purse. Stack grabbed her hand as Smoke led the way to Stack’s truck. He stopped in front of the passenger seat and helped her in before getting into the backseat.

The ride to the restaurant was short but quiet. Cymone didn’t really say much unless one of them asked her a question and Smoke knew her nerves were getting the best of her as well. They soon pulled into the parking lot of Char and Smoke made quick work of getting out, opening her door, and helping her out the truck. He grabbed her hand and led her around to the other side where Stack immediately grabbed a hold of her other hand. Smoke could feel her tense for a moment before she relaxed and they made the short walk to the door. They entered the establishment and approached the hostess stand. Stack continued to hold her hand and Smoke decided to place his hand on her lower back.

“Moore. Table for 3,” Stack called out to the hostess who looked down at her iPad before looking up with a smile and beckoning them to follow. Thankfully they were placed at a secluded circular booth where they would have enough privacy for their conversation. The hostess bid them farewell and they all sat down. Cymone, who was placed between the two of them, quickly picked up the menu. Smoke noticed her using the menu as deflection and immediately cleared his throat.

“So I’m sure you know why we here. Me and Stack don’t wanna pressure you into something you uncomfortable with so you say the word and we can dead this shit and act like it never happened,” Smoke spoke reassuringly as he analyzed her. Cymone continued to stare down at the menu but he could tell she was really thinking and soon she spoke.

“I’m not uncomfortable, I promise. I’m just a lil scared. I’d always had a lil crush on y’all back in the day but I guess I never expected either one of y’all to like me back. Let alone the both of you,” she said honestly.

Smoke sat pensively for a second as he tried to find the right words. He could understand where she was coming from. They hadn’t really expected to fall for her that fast either but she was like a flame and they were moths that couldn’t stay away.

“We just want you to know this ain’t no game for us. We wanna court you the right way and really build something,” Smoke said as he grabbed her hand.

“Yeah, we know you scared of what other people gone think but fuck them folks Punkin. They can’t do nothing but judge,” Stack interjected as well.

“It’s so easy for y’all to say fuck these people because y’all not the woman in this situation, I am. People ain’t gone be looking at y’all crazy for sharing somebody but I’m gone be looked at as a whore for being with two men at one time. Jackson ain’t that damn progressive like everywhere else. It’s still a lot of stupid ass conservative motherfuckas with opinions on every corner,” she said passionately as her voice raised a little.

“But I’m not saying that to say that I don’t wanna at least try. Y’all just gone have to be patient with me. Please,” she said almost pleadingly as she took a turn to look at both Smoke and Stack.

“I can speak for the both of us and say that we can go at whatever pace you need. Long as you willing to try we willing to try with you,” Stack said matter of factly while Smoke nodded in agreement.

Cymone

After the slightly tense but very productive conversation the three quickly fell into their usual routine. After they ordered they talked, ate, and Cymone threatened to slap the shit out of Stack after he tried to steal a piece of bacon from her plate. It made her heart smile and she felt a little hope that things wouldn’t change drastically as they took these steps in a new direction. A small part of her was kind of excited to see how life would be with the twins in a romantic sense rather than just being friends.

After they were done eating they all hopped in the car. They had to take her home so they could handle some business at the club and Cymone was a little bummed that her time with them was ending so quickly. They pulled up to her house and Smoke of course made quick work of opening her door but he paused as he noticed the pout on her face.

“What’s wrong with you,” he asked with a smirk on his face. He was obviously amused at how she was acting.

“It ain’t nothing wrong with me,” Cymone stated with a roll of her eyes as she turned her body to step out of the truck. Before she could get her foot on the step down Smoke halted her with a firm grip on her thigh catching her off guard.

“We moving slow but one thing we need to get clear is that attitude shit ain’t gone work Sugar. Now if you want something you need to be a big girl and open yo mouth,” he said as he lightly grabbed her chin for added emphasis. Cymone straightened her back and swallowed a little before noddigg by her head. Smoke tsked with a shake of his head.

“I said open yo mouth.”

“Sorry. I just wasn’t ready for y’all to go is all,” she finally admitted, causing Stack to chuckle from the passenger seat.

“Okay then now was that so hard,” Smoke answered in a mocking tone causing her to puff out her cheeks to refrain from rolling her eyes again.

“Smoke gotta head down to Olive Branch to meet up with our liquor distributor after this meeting we got but I can come back by here and we have a lil movie night. That alright with you?”

Cymone had visibly cheered up and immediately yelped out a yes as she turned and wrapped her arms around Stacks neck while placing a big smooch on his cheek. She then turned back to Smoke and repeated the same actions before she jumped out the truck.

Stack walked her up to the door while Smoke waited in the car and once Cymone was safely inside the home she watched them pull off. She couldn’t help but to let out a little squeal now that she was in the confines of her home.

“I have got to call Reana!”

Cymone quickly ran up the stairs to her room and flung herself backwards onto her bed with her phone in hand. She scrolled until she found Reana’s contact and pressed on it to ring her phone. After a couple seconds Reana’s voice could be heard through the speaker.

“Bitchhhh!! How was it,” Reana dragged out excitedly.

“It was so nice Re. We started off talking about us or whatever and I told them I wanted to take things slow because this is really a lot. I can’t just jump off the deep end you know.”

“Real!”

“Then after we got all the serious talk out the way we just ate and talked and it just really felt so normal like old times. I was having such a good time I was a lil sad when they had to drop me off but Stack coming back here later for a movie night.”

“Oooooo what kinda movie night,” Reana asked suggestively.

“A normal one bitch. I ain’t finna get spread eagle on Ganny couch like you was in that big backseat.”

As soon as the sentence left Cymone’s mouth a deep chuckle could be heard from the other side of the phone followed by the sound of a smack. Cymone quickly sat up in the bed as her face frowned up.

“Girl. I know that ain’t who I think it is,” she asked as she heard Reana smacking her teeth.

“This nigga don’t know how to mind his damn business foo I swear. Sammie over here.”

“Wowwwww. He been listening this whole time? I should slap the shit out of you.”

“I’m sorry!! He got here right before you called and I told him to put his AirPods in cause this was a A,B fucking conversation!”

“Stop hitting me Reana. Damn!”

Cymone could hear what sounded like a scuffle coming from the other end so she immediately decided it was time to end this conversation.

“Okay girl! I’ll talk to you tomorrow cause you’re obviously busy and I don’t wanna hear what this might turn into. Love you. Bye!”

“Love you too.”

After hanging up the phone with Reana Cymone continued to lay on the bed as she scrolled through instagram. Eventually she got so bored she fell asleep but was awakened by the doorbell ringing. Her face formed into a look of confusion. Ganny was out with her friend Barbara and Duke hadn’t said anything about coming by so she had no idea who it could be. She checked her phone to see she had been asleep for about 3 hours and there was a text from Stack saying he would be there in 15 minutes. She decided to finally get up to get the door to see who was at the house. She made her way down the stairs and checked the security camera to see a blue Hellcat outside.

Rashad

Cymone opened the door to see Rashad standing there with a small smirk on his face.

“Ummm what the hell you doing at my house,” she asked him with a look of disbelief.

“Damn you ain’t happy to see me,” he asked as he leaned back as if he was offended.

Cymone only crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe as she stared at him through the screen door.

“Rashad cut the bullshit aight. You ain’t had shit to say to me since Tricia party when I turned you down so why are you here now?”

“I missed you,” he said simply as if that was just supposed to be it.

Cymone looked at him as if he had lost his damn mind. Just as she was to tear him a new asshole she could see Stacks Jeep pulling up.

“Look Rashad you can gone on home cause it’s nothing here for you okay. It’s time for you to leave.”

She truly just wanted him to go ahead and leave without a scene before Stack put him on his ass cause she knew the man wasn’t above it. The last thing she needed was nosey ass Mrs. Arnold to be telling Ganny that men was fighting outside her house.

Rashad also noticed the vehicle parking behind and turned to watch Stack exit the truck. He chuckled as he turned back to Cymone.

“Ohhh I get it. I can’t hit but the Wonder Twin can?”

“Oh shut the fuck up. I tried to nicely tell yo ass it was time to go but you don’t hear kindness so hear this. Get the fuck off my property nigga,” Cymone said finally having enough. Rashad swiped at his nose with a smirk and threw his hands up while backing away. He passed Stack and looked him up and down before looking at Cymone again.

“I’ll see you around Cymone.”

Stack approached the door with a look on his face and Cymone just put her hand up with a shake of her head.

“I really don’t wanna talk about it,” she said as she unlocked the screen door to let him in. Once they were both inside the home she noticed he had a bag full of snacks.

“Ooooo what’s this,” she as tries to peak into the bag but Stack is fast as he teasingly snatches it away and wags his finger in her face.

“Aht aht. Go put something comfortable on and I’ll be down here setting up,” he said as he turned her body towards the stairs.

“Wait setting up what up?”

“Don’t question me woman. Get ya lil ass up the stairs.”

Cymone practically ran to her room and through on a pair of loose fitting gray sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt. She made sure her slicked back bun was still tamed and made her way back down the stairs. As soon as her foot hit the bottoms step she let out a little gasp. Stack had transformed the room into a picnic area. He moved the couch back and spread out blankets across the floor. He had all of the lights off and candles lit in various areas of the room and he had the snacks spread out across the blankets.

“Awwww Eli,” she cooed as she stepped further into the room.

“You like it,” he asked as he rubbed the back of his neck in anticipation.

“I love it,” she yelped as she threw her arms around neck and pulled him down for a peck on the lips.

Stack cheesed the biggest he probably ever had before making Cymone laugh a little.

“Come on! I wanna watch Us first!”

Note: Heyyyy you guys!! Sorry this chapter is a little late. I had a lot going on but we are here now and that's all that matters. Also I wanted to make y'all aware of a small change. I decided to make the twins 5 years older than Cymone instead of 8. I just felt like that was a really big gap so that now makes Cymone 20 and the twins 25. Also next part there will be a small time jump just so I can really get things rolling and jump into the meat of Cymone's new relationship with Smoke and Stack. Other than that I hope you all enjoy and don't forget to let me know what you think!! See y'all next time!

Tag List: @angryflowerwitch @cleo92bitch-i-am-old @reci1996 @hoodpr1ncessdiana @cerya @rose-bliss @thickemadame @katezy2x @roughridah0 @5starsirl @woahthatshitfat @sassymemoryelixir @iiiheartfayee @melinatedlifeline @stankface @flaps200 @thefutureemmywinner @junkie05

[azzifudd10]

Somewhere To Land

Chapter Two: The Ache We Can't Shake

Azzi – 7:28 a.m.

Eli was up before the sun.

Teething made him restless—he gnawed on everything, including Azzi’s sleeve, her fingers, the corner of a baby book, and once, her ponytail. She’d spent most of the night bouncing him on her hip, whispering lullabies through dry lips, too tired to cry and too wired to sleep.

By morning, she looked in the mirror and barely recognized herself.

Dark circles. Cracked lips. Shoulders slumped like someone twice her age. The girl who used to dance in the vet clinic hallways between appointments was gone. In her place stood someone who had forgotten how to laugh.

Eli finally settled in his playpen around 7:00, chewing furiously on a silicone giraffe.

And now Azzi just… waited.

She wasn’t sure why she expected Paige to show up again. People always said things in moments that felt good—comforting, impulsive. Rarely did they follow through.

But when her phone buzzed at 7:31, it was a text from an unfamiliar number.

Paige B: “What’s Eli’s favorite color? Asking for Target reasons.”

Azzi blinked. Then typed: Azzi: “He mostly drools on things. So… soft blue?”

A minute later: Paige B: “Perfect. Blue it is. See you soon.”

Azzi stared at the message. She hadn’t smiled yet today. But now, her lips twitched.

Damn her.

Paige – 8:45 a.m.

She held the giant Target bag in one hand and knocked with the other, bouncing on her toes. She didn’t want to look too eager, but truthfully? She was. Something about Azzi—gritty, beautiful, closed-off Azzi—was pulling at her like gravity.

The door opened slowly.

Azzi stood there in sweats and a headwrap, looking equal parts exhausted and annoyed. But she let Paige in without a word.

“Morning,” Paige offered, holding up the bag like a peace offering. “No loud plastic crinkles. Baby-safe packaging, per Google.”

Azzi looked inside and blinked. Teething rings, soft washcloths, pacifiers shaped like dinosaurs, and a small blue stuffed octopus.

“I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Azzi sighed, but her voice softened. “Thank you.”

Eli, propped on a blanket, gurgled happily when he saw Paige. She bent down, gently ruffled his soft curls, and whispered, “Hey, little dude.”

Azzi watched the exchange, arms folded. “You know you don’t have to keep showing up.”

“I know,” Paige said. “But I want to.”

Azzi swallowed. That was the problem.

Azzi – 10:19 a.m.

Paige was perched on the floor, legs folded, letting Eli stack blocks on her knee like it was the world’s weirdest construction site.

Azzi sat on the couch, sipping lukewarm tea, trying to ignore how easily Paige fit into the space. How her laugh wasn’t intrusive. How Eli already liked her.

This was dangerous. Familiarity led to feelings. And feelings led to loss.

“You don’t have to play the hero,” Azzi said suddenly, sharper than intended.

Paige looked up. “What?”

“This isn’t some rescue mission, Paige. You’re not obligated to fix anything.”

“I know that.”

“Do you?”

Paige’s brow furrowed, but her voice stayed even. “I’m not here to fix anything. I’m here because I like you. And I like him. And you both deserve not to feel so alone.”

Azzi looked away. Her hands trembled slightly in her lap.

“I’m scared,” she admitted, voice barely a whisper.

Paige didn’t say anything. Just sat there, letting the silence stretch. Then quietly, “Me too.”

Paige – 11:12 a.m.

She stayed until Eli fell asleep in her arms, his tiny fingers curled in her jersey.

Azzi had disappeared into the bedroom for a bit, and Paige didn’t push. She just rocked gently, letting the silence fill the room.

When Azzi returned, her eyes were red, but her shoulders looked looser. She sat beside Paige, not saying a word. Just... sat.

“Do you ever feel like you’re failing?” she asked finally.

“All the time,” Paige said. “But I think that means you’re trying.”

Azzi nodded, staring at the baby. “She named him Elias after the prophet. Said he was going to change the world.”

Paige looked at her, the rawness in her voice cutting through her like a blade.

“Can I ask you something?” Paige said gently.

Azzi nodded.

“Do you want to talk about her? Tasha?”

Azzi flinched, but then… something softened in her eyes.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “Yeah, I do.”

Azzi – 12:36 p.m.

It was the middle of summer when she met Tasha.

They’d both been nineteen. Tasha had transferred into Azzi’s biology lecture and sat beside her unprompted. Five minutes in, she whispered, “You’re the only one who looks more bored than me.”

They’d been inseparable after that. Not romantically—just soul-deep close. The kind of friendship that felt like a second heartbeat. Tasha laughed like thunder and cooked like her grandmother taught her—loud music, lots of butter, and no measuring cups. She’d been six months into a situationship when she found out she was pregnant.

“He’s mine,” she told Azzi, hand on her belly. “Even if it’s just me, I’ve got this.”

And she did.

Until the night she didn’t come home.

Azzi shook the memory away. Paige was still sitting quietly across from her, hands in her lap, gaze gentle.

“I miss her so bad it makes my bones ache.”

“I know,” Paige said. “I can’t imagine. But I’m here.”

Azzi nodded, eyes stinging.

Paige didn’t try to hold her. She didn’t move closer. She just stayed.

Azzi didn’t want comfort that came too easily. She wanted presence.

And Paige—God help her—was giving it.

[eyesymbolism]

Hi, about the Jonathan Sims Jane Prentiss post. Elaborate.

Omgomgomg someone asking me to talk about the Magnus Archives!! Thank you thank you so much!!

Sorry, this took a while, I knew I wouldn’t be able to get out all of my thoughts on my phone, so I had to look for my laptop :)

While listening to the absolutely incredible MAG 032 – Hive, I felt that there was a strong connection between Jon and Jane’s stories (obligatory mention on how similar their names are because it feels weird in my brain).

One of the main things that really stood out to me was during Jane’s desperate recollection of her memories, Jane tries to figure out when she first heard the song of the hive, she starts with when she saw the webs in the corners of the attics entrance (which she mentions having a “different song to the hive”, I love this detail!!) to as far back as her childhood, being told by her classmate about blackheads, which she says “that image lodged in my mind forever”, she mentions as a child, she used to watch the worms climb to surface after the rain.

I think she was hearing the song then, it was hard to come to that as a definite belief for me due to her muddled her perspective from already going through the process of becoming what we would see her become, as she seems to switching from “Jane” to “The Hive” in the statement. But my belief of it comes from her breakdown over the ant infestation at her job, I want to link this to Jon’s fear of spiders, because well obliviously you don’t get such intense breakdowns over a thing that brings you comfort, so intense she was fired. Both of them gained intense fears from their childhood, Jane must’ve been terrified from that reaction, but I think if Jane experienced something on the same scale as Jon, the Hive, which we already know could dizzy her memories, could suppress that, maybe giving her relief as a manipulation tactic?

Bringing this back to Jon, there is his experience from A Guest for Mr. Spider, which we know gave him a massive fear of spiders (and very not-dooming guilt), his reaction after reading Jane’s statement is.. Well bad. I think that it is because of the similarity from Jane’s damning since childhood to his own is what causes him to admit he KNOWS it’s not natural, he can’t will up the denial that he hides behind, he even needs to lie down after it.

BUT here’s the thing that drives me up the wall about these two! I think it’s not the similarity in their stories that connects them, it is their fates. Imagine if, you are behind five, maybe six, walls of denial and logic, to keep yourself safe from your guilt and your fears, hearing a story so close to what is your own and she turns into a monster.

Mr. Jonathan “I don’t want to a mystery” Sims, who has spent a while hunting down her story to solve her mystery, only to find that.

Jane’s fears from her childhood found her and used her body to kill and terrorise.

Jon must’ve been terrified, we’ve heard about two people dying from the worms Jane spreads and it now becomes clear she has basically become possessed. She literally has that noted as one of what seems to be one of her last true actions, before she is used as a tool. Something I want to point out now because I see so many people forget this, Jon cares about others so much. The most clear example being in Colony, when after getting Martin’s statement, he lets him stay in the archives, even saying he’d asked Elias for extra security, he doesn’t turn away from the truth (that he KNOWS) and scoff at the man he is currently trying to intimidate. No, he helps him because one of the main traits of Jonathan Sims is he really cares, no matter how scared he is. The idea that he could be turned into a monster and used to kill and terrorise people as well to be turned into something he’s not (sorry, that is a hunger games reference.) is horrific, especially as he was currently being attacked by the person who’s story he can so strongly relate to.

And then when he does inevitably turn into a monster, just like him and Jane were always going to, what should be horrifying him (just like Jane’s song and the fact it made her feel loved despite it all) felt so right.

It was always going to end like this for Jon, for Jane, and Carlos Vittery from Arachnophobia but there’s less to say about him (sorry).

In short, I say Jane’s memory haunted Jon for a long time, I think his breakdown in season 2 makes a lot of sense for a lot of reasons, but also because of the fear that he could be turned into a monster just like her, and that chance were going up higher every day, since he was eight.

[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 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 night is dark and full of terrors.

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.

[cari-pharoahs]

the younger more beautiful 'queen'

these are just some quickfire thoughts as to who I personally think it might be. (honestly I think it's either brienne or sansa)

ok to recap:

'Queen you shall be, the old woman had promised, with her lips still wet and red and glistening, until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear.'

which tells us that this 'younger and more beautiful' doesn't have to be a 'queen', per say, by the way that it is phrased.

This is, clearly, a play on the 'fairest of them all' trope (we know how much george loves tropes and subverting them) where the evil queen preys on the innocent princess because she’s scared of being replaced.

Now, we also know that George loves a good self-fulfilling prophecy. Which means, probably, that the younger more beautiful 'queen' usurping Cersei is probably Cersei's own fault.

(for example, one of Maggy's prophecies, the one about Cersei's friend, ends up coming true because of Cersei herself killing her. worms will have your maidenhead)

to cast you down and take all that you hold dear

I suppose, to quantify 'all you hold dear', I came up with a little list.

1. cersei's children

2. jaime

3. power (queenship?)

(obviously, the reason cersei loves her children and Jaime is more because she sees them as an extension of herself, but, they are still things she holds dear)

Cersei thinks it's Margaery -

She is pretty enough, she had to admit, but most of that is youth. Even peasant girls are pretty at a certain age, when they are still fresh and innocent and unspoiled, and most of them have the same brown hair and brown eyes as she does. Only a fool would ever claim she was more beautiful than I. The world was full of fools, however. So was her son’s court.

But, in my mind, does she fit the cersei's dears list?

well, she sort of does. she takes joffrey (in a way), takes tommen (in a way) and power (people love her way more than they ever loved Cersei).

but then there's jaime, which she isn't able to take. and if cersei suspects her, apparently we have to rule her out? she's also probably going to die soon. alas. I liked her (well enough).

so now, here's some of the fandom options:

Daenerys

Arianne

Sansa

Myrcella

Brienne

Lyanna

Cersei herself

(to quickly state - to be a real option, I think the candidates have to serve a character-level purpose, a thematic purpose, and make logical sense. if all 3 are not met, I don't think this person works)

okay, to rule some of them out, almost immediately:

cersei herself? how? logically it doesn't make a whole lot of sense - how is cersei's younger self taking power? or her kids? or jaime? I guess she's metaphorically looming over cersei, especially with her getting 'physically uglier', and she's got that reminder of when she was 'beautiful', I think it's just a touch too abstract.

Arianne is a bit of a minor character, but to entertain the thought, she can't take joffrey, because he's dead, she can't take jaime, because how? and she might take KL with Young Griff, but that doesn't really fit the self-fulfilling doomed part, yk? like, it's a possibility, but a boring one. (BUT the elia martell of it all, iykwim)

Myrcella - again, she's probably not a long character. I do like this theory tho bc obviously she looks a lot like her mother so, while not logically possible, its thematically interesting.

'gold will be their crowns, gold will be their shrouds'

so, she'll probably die, honestly, before she can do any real damage.

HONOURABLE MENTION: (bc I really like this theory)

Lyanna - she 'takes' Rhaegar, she 'takes' Robert, she is forever young because she died so young, and her memory hangs over Robert forever. Her son may also take KL (no I don't think Jon's going to be king, sorry, it's not happening, but interesting to entertain as a thought).

I don't think this would actually happen but it's fun to think about.

now on ones that are probably actual options.

Daenerys -

so she is a possibility because she too is beautiful, but I think this one, like Arianne, rides a lot on the 'Queen' part, and less a thematic purpose. Cersei herself isn't a catalyst for Daenerys coming over, and honestly, I think by the time Daenerys arrives, KL will have already been taken over.

There's also that she can't take joffrey, or jaime (logistically).

Sansa -

“Leave her face,” Joffrey commanded. “I like her pretty.”

this is one I believe a lot more. she's sort of made the way she is by learning from Cersei what not to do - when Cersei is drinking and going a little bit batshit crazy in the battle of blackwater, (I LOVE when Cersei goes crazy) Sansa's the one helping out, praying, etc.

Sansa raised her hands for quiet. “Joffrey’s come back to the castle. He’s not hurt. They’re still fighting, that’s all I know, they’re fighting bravely. The queen will be back soon.” The last was a lie, but she had to soothe them. She noticed the fools standing under the galley. “Moon Boy, make us laugh.”

Her whole story is sort of about princesses learning that the world isn't a fairytale - her prince beats her, her saviour hurts her, and the guy that seems like a monster isn't one.

Knights are sworn to defend the weak, protect women, and fight for the right, but none of them did a thing.

So thematically, Cersei being the 'evil queen' in her story is sort of fitting - there's also names. The name 'Cersei' has links to the greek myth of 'Circe', but also links to birds. She calls Sansa 'little dove' - so a younger version of Cersei.

That sort of brings in what is interesting about it potentially being Myrcella or her younger self - it has that 'oh fuck' moment when Cersei finally realises her actions caught up to her.

But, does it work?

Yes, actually. Sort of.

Sansa is, accidentally, sort of, the reason Joffrey dies.

With Brienne serving Catelyn, and Jaime and Brienne's thing, and Jaime's sort of redemption/search for honour, he might end up helping Sansa - as a sort of fulfillment of his promise to Catelyn to bring her daughters home, so she sort of 'takes' Jaime.

And the throne - I don't think she'll be queen of the 7 kingdoms or anything (honestly, idrk how its going to end - bran as king probably doesn't mean a QitN like in the show, but I think sansa will, in some way, be involved in Cersei's demise). That's the one that's a little more iffy for me, but I think Sansa will have power as the series ends.

Brienne.

'Brienne the Beauty' - she's younger, she's not 'beautiful', per say, but maybe Maggy was just joking around a little, seeing this moniker in the future.

She will, probably, 'take' Jaime more than anyone else will - she's helping him become a better person, showing him what honour and knighthood can really mean, and taking him away from that toxic relationship with Cersei.

Cersei's own actions bite her in the ass with her manipulation catching up with her and Jaime escaping. yipee!! (but, unrelated, i'm so conflicted about jaime bc his redemption is great, then I remember - Bran wanted to be a knight.)

Finally, it could be a combination of them all.

Dany/Arianne takes KL. Margaery takes her children. Brienne takes Jaime. Sansa sort of does all 3.

But, thematically, it doesn't really work. so... what are everyone else's thoughts??? im rlly interested bc I've sort of reached a bit of a blockade - no clue where it goes from here.

thanks for reading tho!!!

[anaceshornyblog]

Thinking about jon asking elias if he can call her a good girl. Thinking about Jon realizing Things. Hesitantly participating a little more. Not admitting it out loud but. Thinking about Jon accepting it more. Thinks about jon gender euphoria. I love you jon jarchivist sims

- skiesandcandy

“You seem distracted,” Jon blinked his eyes darting back to Elias, who was now standing at the foot of the bed, when had he gotten so close? Jon supposed he was distracted staring at the dress hung up in Elias’s closet. The one that he claimed he had accidentally sent Jon for the fundraiser.

Jon was only half-surprised Elias had kept it. He couldn’t help shivering a bit thinking about how it had felt to wear it. With his hair styled, and a bit of makeup that Elias had done for him quite a few of the guests, and even some of his coworkers had mistaken him for a girl. He didn’t know why each time it had happened he felt a little heat in his chest.

Idly he played with the edge of the blanket glancing back at the dress his mind wandering again. When Elias had brought him home, he had called Jon pretty, and a good girl, and Jon didn’t know why but that had made that little heat in his chest blaze into something akin to joy.

Elias clicked his tongue and Jon jumped tearing his gaze away to look up at Elias.

“Sorry, I was just thinking,” Jon pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, maybe an experiment. It could mean nothing, maybe the party had just been fun and he was confusing that feeling. But then why had he blushed and giggled so much every time Elias called him a girl? He frowned, but what if Elias laughed at him? Sure he had called him pretty before but maybe that was just then?

“Jon,” Elias’s hand on his cheek snapped him out of his thoughts once more, his thumb rubbing against his bottom lip forcing him to release it from his teeth. Elias was so close, “What has you so distracted?”

“Can you call me a good girl again?” Jon was saying the words before he had thought to stop himself. They came out in a bit of a tumble, but understandable enough. Only now that Jon had started speaking he couldn’t seem to stop. He dropped his gaze to his lap, “It’s just at the party and after, I mean it felt really nice, and I wanted to see if it was because well. No this is stupid, I’m so-.”

He was cut off by Elias pressing him back with a hand pressed against his chest forcing him to lay back. Jon couldn’t meet Elias’s eyes scared he’d see something he didn’t want, maybe just disappointment, or worse pity. He was trembling as he could hear Elias climb over him, still looking anywhere but at his eyes.

“Oh Jon, did you like being my good pretty girl?” Jon couldn’t help glancing up at those words, his whole body shivering at those words. Instead of what he feared he only saw amusement and something like hunger in Elias’s expression as he shoved Jon’s shirt up. Exposing his disappointingly, to himself at least, though he wasn’t sure why he felt that way, flat chest.

Jon couldn’t help but whimper as Elias tugged on his nipples his face turning red. He did his best to ignore the feeling of himself getting hard, as Elias fondled him, unable to stop himself from panting.

“Look at my lovely girl she has such pretty tits,” Jon gasped his body trembling as the words made the warmth inside him flare almost coming in his pants. Jon blushed, usually he wasn’t that easy but something about this was different than usual. “A bit small but we can get them to grow I’m sure.”

Jon was pretty sure Elias was trying to kill him. He felt whatever the opposite of dissociated was, but also like he couldn’t think his brain hazy. He didn’t know whether he regretted this whole thing or hoped it never ended. That Elias called hi-her a pretty girl from now on. She yelped as she felt Elias’s free hand slide into her pants wrapping his hand around her.

“Your clits all hard isn’t it,” Elias’s words whispered in her ear along with the sudden stimulation had her coming, her hips bucking against him. She gripped his shoulders, ringing out her orgasm her face pressed into his chest. Elias laughed softly, peeling her pants off once she released him going limp, he smiled at her and Jon felt so warm. She started to push herself up but once more she was pinned back down.

“Greedy little slut aren’t you, such a good girl for me,” Jon went red squirming. She couldn’t make any coherent noises as Elias stretched her just enough so it wouldn’t hurt before sliding inside. She could only grit her teeth and hold on as Elias fucked her, each time he called her a pretty, or a good girl he couldn’t help but clench down. His hand wrapped back around her, she was so close it was all so much.

“Come for me that’s my pretty girl,” Jon whimpered and couldn’t stop from doing just that, feeling Elias fill her up as well before collapsing on top of her his body warm against her.

“Was that what you wanted lovely?” Elias shifted so Jon was now laying beside him held close. Jon hid her face against his chest but nodded ignoring the soft laugh. She braced herself waiting for the shame to rush over her. Only instead she just felt, warm and happy, and like herself for once. In a bit she’d have to get up, and probably go back to being a boy, but for now she was content to enjoy the warmth that settled inside her.

[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

[kohyuuu]

🎧🐢🤠❤️

once in a lifetime (pt. 3)

elias and scarlett poly study date scenario part 3 started: april 21st, 2025 finished: the same day!!!!1111!!1

(androgynous reader)

(this is the song that's playing on scarlett's speaker <33 and yes i love twice)

————————————— ♥

scarlett texts you her address and reminds you that she and elias are waiting at her house

while the two waited for you, she and elias studied for their ela test that they forgot about. it was literally tomorrow. (last minute studying lets goooo!!!!!)

they heard the doorbell ring. scarlett ditches elias for a sec and bolts to the door. while you were outside, making sure you weren’t missing anything from your backpack. 

scarlett opens the door excitedly, and hurries you in.

“COME IN COME IN COME IN!!! bro we’re studying right now and like it’s gonna be so much fun and stufffff”

“alright scarlett.. 😭” -you

you arrived in scarlett’s room, where the three of you would study.

elias and scarlett were done studying for their test, now they were just working on missing work.

♥ —————————————

“eli can you help meeeeeeeeeeeeee pleaseeeeeeee”

“what do you need help with? and you gotta be specific, silly.”

“giving your mom backshots”

“girl don’t start with me. 😡”

"okay fine, math. there's this stupid question i'm on and i hate it so much bro"

————————————— ♥

while elias was helping scarlett with her math homework, you were just sitting there, not really knowing what to do. you pulled out your phone to see all the tiktoks scarlett sent in the group chat.

unbeknownst to you, scarlett couldn’t help but steal glances from you time to time, and kept on getting distracted by your charm. elias couldn’t focus much either, but he’s trying his hardest to stay on task.

they both wanted to admit their feelings for you. elias was scared you would find the idea of polyamory weird, and that you would reject him and scarlett. he didn’t want that to happen, no, it couldn’t!

scarlett felt the same way. she has never felt like this about anybody before, and couldn’t bare the thought of losing that feeling. 

even though she and elias barely had any dating experience, to them, it was a once in a lifetime opportunity. they needed a way to express how they felt to you.

♥ —————————————

a/n: did you guys miss daddy

JUST KIDDING im sorry ive been out for so long, ive had absolutely no motivation to write and ive been holding off on this for so long. but i am BACK!!!!! also i finally know what to name this story:

LMFAO yes i pulled that right from the text and im gonna name it that guys

» click/tap here for the next part !!

» last part..

[freezerbnuuy]

Act 3:11 - The Perks of Being a Mooncaster (Page 5)

LORE | CHARACTERS | ABOUT / CHAPTERS / WARNINGS

← PREVIOUS | BEGINNING | NEXT →

Róisín

"Róisín, do you and your parents ever argue?"

"Sometimes, if I do something bad. Or when me and Father don't avoid each other on the full moon, sometimes we get angry at each other."

Alistair nods. "That's all it was. We used to argue, too, and sometimes I said and did some things that weren't very nice. Your father doesn't know as much as he should about mooncasters, and that's mostly my fault. So I'm going to teach him, so he can teach you."

"You should have been nicer to him, Alistair."

"I should have, Róisín," he replies. "I'm sorry. I promise I'll do better."

"Okay," I say to him. "I believe you."

Alistair tells me some stories when I'm in bed. I'm a bit scared. He tells me that if I count wolves in my head, I will then fall asleep, and that they will run to me in my dreams and protect me from anything that might hurt me.

He tells me a story about a man who helps a wolf, and the wolf later protects him from a bear when he's looking for food. He says to me that wolves are very special animals, both to nature and to the mooncasters, and that we must always be good to them. Maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll see some wolves whilst I'm here. Maybe even a werewolf, I'm very very lucky.

Reynold

Róisín is asleep now.

It's good to see she's starting to bond with Alistair, and that he's trying to be patient with her. Whilst I've been resting beside the fire, I've been reflecting on myself a little. It's necessary work, but certainly isn't enjoyable. 

"I ought to admit to you that I've been hypocritical, Father. I was so angry at you for keeping me in the dark, and yet I did exactly the same thing to my partner. I kept her in the dark about the wolf for far too long before I actually told her about it, and what I did to Clem." 

Alistair sighs to himself. "Many years ago, the people thought a scholar to be mad when he suggested the moon reflects the Sun's light, but you remember the old stories I used to tell you, don't you? Lunvin would be nothing without the Sun, and the other way around. Men and women would be lost without each other, and yet I did nothing for Clementia. The way you two eventually came back together as brother and sister...I just hope she's as willing to let us be father and daughter again."

"I doubt it," I reply. "The likehood is that you'll just have to accept that she doesn't want or need you now, I'm afraid. I don't want to say that, but if she doesn't want to reconcile, that's up to her."

"Fair enough, I suppose."

Attempting to make conversation with my own father is proving more difficult than I imagined it would be. 

"I'm not sure how I managed it, but I actually held off the transformation for a few months."

Alistair gasps. "Held it off? How on Earth did you manage that?"

"I don't know," I reply. In reality, the only thing that got me through was priestly endurance. 

"Reynold...Every single day, you are filled with Lunvin's ire, whether you notice it or not. The turning on the full moon is an important and necessary catharsis. You have to process anger, Reynold, not hide from it or bury it."

"I suppose so. I haven't done that for years, though. So much is going on that I can't hold back anymore."

"Well, that's good. If the only people dying to your wolf form are the witchfinders, well, I see no reason to be concerned. Do your people know of your power?"

I don't answer that one. Only Susana knows I have magic, though Elias seems suspicious of me- has done for years. Someday, they will probably know the truth about me. Again, the question arises of whether or not they deserve to know- but what good is the monastery if it gets invaded by witchfinders as a result? It's supposed to be a place of relative safety.

[craniumflight]

looking at my list of klay and fidel's nicknames/descriptions for each other makes me sad

mostly because klay never said anything about fidel's specific good traits, even in private, while fidel is vocal about his changing heart for klay.

all klay says vocally is what a pretty guy fidel was

and i'm trying to understand klay, i really do.

i HC that she is still unwilling to admit anything concretely good about fidel, to put it into words, even to herself. She's scared of commitment, of falling, of getting into deep.

but she never runs out of good things to say about Ibarra, Elias, Maria Clara, doesn't she? That means she can do it... as long as its not to Fidel.

"you are important to me" and "the only one who truly loved me and the reason i survived in this world" is too broad of a scope and i am annoyed by how it all still revolves around what fidel has offered to her, instead of what he really was as a person.

maybe in time she will expound on what she said or maybe she'll say what she actually admires about him... but really? will she? does she even admire fidel for other than his handsomeness, his ability to keep her alive and his love and dedication for her and his country? .

we will never know, won't we?

el fili may have ended but she was still a red flag siszt.

klay still has a long long way to go.

[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

[innocentcurse]

Dorothy knew that Beau had lost loved ones, too. She knew that he was familiar with grief, and didn't doubt that there might have even been other causes of grief throughout his life that she didn't yet know about; of course, that was just an assumption, but it wasn't an outrageous thing to assume.

She felt slightly guilty, for speaking of her own past and her own turmoil surrounding Avalon's death when she knew that her uncle had his own baggage that could have easily been just as uncomfortable to carry with him right now, just as Dorothy's had grown to be. "Thank you for understanding," she tried to acknowledge his own experience without completely backing away from sharing her own; she knew that the likelihood of him wanting her to be honest and to confide in him was high, for good reason.

Beau couldn't scare her any more than what she already was; what was happening in Cardinal Hill hadn't felt right for quite some time now, and as Dorothy kept Elias as sheltered from the dark possibilities as she could, she carried even more burden. Of course, this was Dorothy's fault alone, but regardless, it was a lot to carry around mentally every day. She appreciated having someone to talk to like Beau - not that Elias wouldn't have spoken to her gladly, like he always did, if only he knew.

"I can't shake the feeling that something's going on... Something bigger," she admitted. "I've been trying to be careful for a while now," she continued; Dorothy had been casting more protection spells than ever, as well as wearing pieces imbued with luck, and everything else good that she could find. "I know as more things happen it sounds all the less likely, but I'm just really hoping that none of this is related," she sighed.

beau watch dorothy carefully - the sadness in her expression, the soft sag of her shoulders, the way she didn't meet his eyes. it would be natural, for her to be scared and upset by what had happened to avalon. a young woman of a similar age, and a witch too... it was awful what had happened. it made beau nervous and worried for his nieces, and the other young people of the town, but especially the women. had her gender made avalon a target?

"don't apologise, dotty." beau reached out and put his large hand over hers, giving it a squeeze he hoped was reassuring. "death and grief are strange, they always find a way of catching us unaware and reminding us what we've lost. don't say sorry for talking about perry, it's a natural connection to make." beau assured her. "i've been thinking about someone i lost too, even though it happened decades ago."

"...it's hard to tell you not to worry, because i think we should be thinking about avalon. it feels... strange. the timing of everything. i don't want to scare you, dot, but i think we should be careful and aware of what's going on." beau admitted, his expression grim.

[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."

[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.