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wardenparker · 1 year ago

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The Viper's Bride - ch 16

Oberyn Martell x female reader x Ellaria Sand x OC Co-written with @absurdthirst

The second Prince of Dorne has lived under the illusion that he would not be forced to wed for his entire life. He has enough lovers and illegitimate children to make him a legend across Westeros, and the love of his soulmate Ellaria Sand to content him. But a contract between his brother and a lord from the north will catapult him into a match that may prove to be as complicated as it is intriguing. Especially when he learns that you already have a soulmate of your own.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 13.1k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: terrible parents, age gap 10+ years, arranged marriage, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, internalized homophobia. Reader is described as having hair long enough to braid. This is a MMFFF polycule, folx. Get on board or don't click to keep reading. Pregnancy!* It's time orgy, friends! MMMFFFF group sex. Oral sex (m and f receiving), hand job, fingering, anal play, anal sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, pregnant sex, rough sex, multiple partners. dirty talk, voyeurism, substance use, sexual experience enhanced by substance use. Canon typical violence, poison, graphic depictions of violence, mentions of sexual assault (Elia's), eye gore, murder, character death. Summary: The night before Oberyn fights in the Trial by Combat holds special meaning for your group, and for Raeden in particular. And the fight itself? Is worse than you could ever imagine. Notes: Well, my loves. This is it 🧡 The final chapter of Oberyn's soulmate extravaganza. Next week will be the epilogue and then we'll dive into spooky season head first with Max Phillips' soulmate story the week after that!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15

It is almost surreal to watch your father and brother step away together. The tension that had filled the room seems to dissipate all at once, and you fall down again in your seat beside Raeden with a sigh. “That was…unexpected.”

“Completely astounding.” Oberyn muses thoughtfully, still reclined in his chair and shaking his head. “Fate is playing in your life, Star. The Gods have truly taken an interest.”

“Perhaps.” Looking around you at the table, it feels hard to deny. Otherwise why would those same gods have blessed you with so much love and companionship? “Perhaps I am simply very lucky. Who can say?”

“You will be very lucky tonight.” Raeden predicts with a salacious grin, his fingers still stroking his wife’s arm, although he is grazing the curve of her breast.

“I believe that will be you, my love.” Your prediction carries equal weight, considering Oberyn’s dark eyes turned to Raeden the moment your father and Salin had left your chambers. “My husband looks as though he might pounce.”

“I must admit that I am eager for the rest of our night to begin.” Draining the rest of his wine out of his cup, he passes it to Ellaria to refill as he stands. Striding over to the other man and caressing his jaw with one finger as he looks down at him. “Take off your clothes.” He orders huskily.

There could not be a more obvious signal to the whole party that the night has officially begun, and Raeden’s calmly curved grin of anticipation tucks itself into the corner of his mouth as he reaches for the ties of the robe over his shirt and trousers. “As my prince commands,” he intones, knowing from many nights of seeing you and Ellaria use that same line to entice him, that Oberyn enjoys the acknowledgment of his power during sex.

His eyes shift to Margaery: “Tonight, you will watch your husband take my cock.” He informs her. “The best pleasure he will have will be if he cums inside another. You or any of the other lovely ladies or Cal can be under him if you wish to be.”

"My husband can cum in whomever he chooses." Margaery hums, having found very quickly that she enjoys the shared pleasure of multiple partners. "As long as I have a beautiful woman's thighs on either side of my head, I do not mind if it is me or someone else."

“You should watch, lover.” Ellaria coos as she smirks slightly. “Let me lick your cunt while you watch, you will not regret it.”

"I would be a very stupid woman to give up that kind of offer." Margaery grins, leaning in to brush a kiss across Ellaria's lips.

Ellaria cups her lover's face while you look on, kissing her passionately. “Cal, Leyth?” Oberyn looks over at the couple who have been serving faithfully. “Would you like to join us in our pleasure tonight?”

"Please." Leyth is already nodding halfway through the question, clutching Cal's hand in eager anticipation. "We...have missed being asked to join you. Very much."

“We have not wanted you to feel as if you have to join us.” Oberyn knows the couple is aware of the changing dynamic and the time needed to adapt.

"The freedom to choose is not lost on us," Leyth assures him, always grateful that that choice has been afforded to them and that their choices are actually respected. "So let us say that tonight we eagerly choose to accept your invitation."

“Fuck.” Raeden pauses before he shucks his breeches and laughs. “Is this to be a proper orgy, in the Red Keep?”

"Why should we not?" You have stood from the table as well, and share in Raeden's amusement. "Cersei already assumes it is what we do every night. We might as well make her correct just once."

“Then I hope that all the lords and ladies around us complain about the noises we make.” He decides with a grin, feeling completely free for the first time and reveling in it.

"We will make sure of it." Ellaria promises, cradling Margaery at her side and nipping at the sensitive skin beneath her ear.

Leyth turns and gives her lover a soft kiss on his lips before she moves towards you. “Princess…” she murmurs softly, having wondered what you kiss like or if you would want her to touch you.

“Come here…” Beckoning her closer, you offer her an encouraging smile and readily meet Leyth’s lips for a kiss.

She’s relieved, her own admiration and respect for you growing into a crush that she has been unable to express. Sliding her hands up and cupping the back of your head with greedy hands.

It is surprising but not unwelcome, the enthusiasm that Leyth has for the kiss drawing you in more and more to explore what is being offered to you. Leyth is stunning — you have always thought so, even since the first day you set foot in the brothel — and you are not about to turn up the chance to know her better tonight when everyone will be indulging in whomever they please.

Ellaria hums in pleasure as she sees that everyone is very well occupied. Smirking at her soulmate’s wife, she starts to pull off her dress. “We should get comfortable.”

“I have never been more comfortable in my life,” Margaery promises her, following the cue and beginning to undress Ellaria in turn. Her Dornish dress is much simpler and easier to remove, making Margaery remember the first time — not so long ago — that you had pouted about the complexity of northern dresses. It is a welcome feeling, to connect the two experiences, and the younger woman hums happily at how easy it is to slip her hand inside Ellaria’s dress and palm the welcome weight of her breast with one hand.

“We will enjoy ourselves immensely.” Ellaria moans breathlessly when the other woman pinches her nipple. With sexual freedom, Margaery Tyrell, now Sunstone, has quickly developed the skills that most whores only dream of when pleasuring another woman. “If I lick every cunt and fuck every cock, it will be a good night.”

“Perhaps we should make that our new motto,” Margaery suggested, giggling immensely even as her other hand is working diligently to slip Ellaria’s dress away from her skin. “For nights such as this, I cannot think of anything better.”

Raeden stands naked in front of Oberyn, his cock already hard and jutting out proudly, making both Oberyn and Cal groan as they look on. “How do you want me?” He asks, slightly breathless as he shivers in anticipation. It has been so long since he has felt a man’s touch, and this man, both of these men, are beautiful and he wants to embrace the freedom he has been given by your marriage to the man who is going to fuck him.

“However the prince wants us, he will have us both.” Cal can barely keep himself from touching, but he has been privy to how long Oberyn has waited to have Raeden in his bed. He can very easily wait his turn so the prince can have what he wants.

“Lay down on the bed.” Oberyn orders both men. “Cal, strip down as well.” He grunts, satisfied that he will be able to have everything he wants tonight. “Show me what it looks like to have the two of you kiss.”

It is an achingly easy set of instructions to follow, and if Cal were wearing something other than the robes that the prince had given him befitting his station, he might have simply torn them off. As it is he struggles to get them off as quickly as possible and follows Lord Sunstone onto the bed to all but fall into the larger man’s arms. He has wondered endlessly what the new lord will be like to have his hands on and it takes him no time at all before he is moaning against Raeden’s lips.

Cal is lithe, yet there is strength in his touch and embrace. Raeden doesn’t even hesitate, one large hand sliding down his chest and over his abs to brush against the other man’s cock before wrapping his hand around it and giving him a gentle squeeze.

It is not unusual for this suite of rooms to be filled with the sounds of pleasure. In fact, each and every night there are people fucking in more of these beds than not. The difference is that tonight you are all in one room. Raeden is fisting Cal's cock on the bed with Oberyn kneeling over them with dark, predatory eyes as they kiss. Ellaria has Margaery spread out over the largest arm chair before the fire, carefully and methodically chasing her own touch down the younger woman's body with her tongue to taste every inch of her. And on the other side of the fireplace, Leyth has laid you down on the chaise to let you watch the proceedings as she eagerly learns what touches make you sigh and moan.

His eyes feast on the sight and his own fingers quickly pull at the ties and strings of his robes. Wishing to be as bare as his lovers. “His cock is wonderful.” He praises as he watches the dark hand glide up and down the lighter toned cock. “Now, I wish to taste yours.”

Raeden does not need to be told twice, rolling to his back with his hand still stroking Cal's length so that he does not have to give up any contact but still exposes every inch of himself to Oberyn's desires. "I am yours," he promises, and the truth of it rattles him more than he expected.

“Not yet.” Oberyn chuckles as he kneels on the bed, running his hands up the muscular calves of your soulmate. “But you will be.”

It is the kind of declaration that shoots to something visceral inside him, and Raeden's cock twitches unmistakably in response. "Then take me," he poses, his words laced with a seductive challenge that he knows Oberyn will not be able to resist. "Make me yours."

There’s a rough little growl the back of the Prince’s throat, smirking as he lunges forward and wraps his hand around the thick length of your lover’s cock to roll down the foreskin and prove to the new lord that despite his lofty status, he is not unskilled in the art of sucking a cock.

As determined as he had been to continue stroking Cal's length, Raeden's hand stutters immediately and he lets out a groan so deep that it seems to rattle the windows. His fingers dig into Oberyn's short hair, encouraging his movements without directing or pushing him, and Raeden's head falls back for just a moment as he shudders with the intensity of the prince's attentions.

It’s about pleasure, but it’s also about preparation. Oberyn knows it’s been years since Raeden has touched or been touched by another man. The last time was when he was a younger man. He is not used to taking a cock and will need to be stretched out. Taking his fingers down to the hole he wishes to possess, he smears his spit around it in a gentle massage.

The gasp and grunt that releases from somewhere deep in Raeden's body vibrates through his body and his fingers tighten in Oberyn's hair desperately. It has been far, far too long since he had this sort of experience and it is only now - having it offered to him on proverbial silver platter - that he realizes how deeply he has been missing it. Spreading his legs and reminding himself to relax, Raeden falls back onto the pillows which his next moan.

Cal decides that Raeden's too distracted for kissing, but his lips move down his chiseled jaw. Kissing along the smooth skin and down to flat, hard nipples so he can flick his tongue over them and help work the other man up. He knows he wants to be under this man while the prince fucks him, his own cock twitching at the thought.

"Gods above," Raeden chokes out, his head already swimming. There is something so singular about experiencing pleasure from someone of your own sex. A person who knows the intricacies of what touches and pressure bring pleasure because he himself has felt the pleasure that it brings. It makes Oberyn's tongue agile and sure, and every flickering touch from Cal is filled with confidence.

Oberyn chuckles and pulls off the cock with a satisfied sound. Lazily licking down his soft, full balls to take one into his mouth, still steadily rubbing, though he is adding more pressure. Not quite breaching the other man, but close.

It has Raeden squirming, trying to move toward the pressure he wants so badly without missing out on any of the touches he is already receiving – begging for more without saying a word.

Oberyn’s eyes find Margaery’s then yours in a slow perusal of the room. “Watch.” He orders, pulling his fingers away momentarily to wet them even more before slowly starting to push the first finger inside the man’s ring of muscles.

There is a collective holding of breath when Raeden moans, with every set of eyes watching as his own close in bliss. "Fuuuck..." It is low and growling and delicious and Raeden is laid out like a feast on the bed for Oberyn and Cal to devour.

The tight heat has Oberyn eager to sink into him, slowly pushing his finger deeper until it is sunk to his knuckle and then carefully searching for that wonderful little spot that makes every man keen when he is entered. The one that can make him cum without anything wrapped around his cock. “Why don’t you prepare Cal to take your cock like I am readying you?” Oberyn suggests as he smirks. “I think the man is salivating to be impaled on your cock.”

"Lover." His attention had been so singularly focused on Raeden that Oberyn has not noticed Ellaria slipping temporarily from the space between Margaery's thighs to bring him a bottle. "You will all be happier to have this," she suggests, setting the small, corked bottle of oil on the bed beside her soulmates.

“Thank you.” The oil will greatly aid the pleasure and he takes it with a small smile and a wink. “Thank you, sun.” He coos softly.

"I want to hear all three of you scream," she confides, diving into kissing Oberyn with her usual, dedicated, passion where she does not pull back again until she has relearned every contour of his mouth. "But only with pleasure."

“Tonight we will make the halls of the keep ring out in pleasure.” He chuckles before he unstops the bottle.

It is not a prediction that anyone doubts, but as the men turn back to each other to focus on pulling as many sounds as possible from each other in these early stages of pleasure, you stop Ellaria on her way back to Margaery. "Join us?" You almost beg her, having made room on the large chaise for more bodies. There is nothing you want more right now than your own tangle of limbs - all four women sharing space and sharing each other.

Smiling indulgently, Ellaria curls her finger towards Margaery before she leans in to press her lips to yours. “Shall we see how we can tangle our bodies together in pleasure, lover?”

Margeary comes to your sides like a moth to flame, practically moaning as she watches you and Ellaria sink into a deep kiss. "It is only fair," she decides, leaning down to kiss Leyth, as well. The curvaceous redhead had not escaped her notice for even a moment.

It is funny how the group has been separated, although not surprising. Leyth and Cal have discussed at length the dynamic, murmuring the dark from their own small, yet comfortable bed off the chambers. Now, tonight, is a fulfillment of those desires that have been repressed and it should be a night to recall fondly.

"My prince." Cal looks up from the nipple he has been lavishing attention on and his fingers, run down to tease Raeden's cock with a slow pump up and down his length. "At the brothel, we used to take this...herb, it kept our cocks hard after we had finished." He explains. "Perhaps tonight would be a good time to use it? To make sure everyone gets to exhaust themselves?"

In the middle of the conversation, very literally, Raeden’s hips buck subtly at the idea of such an increasing, wondering if the prince even needs such an aid. But then — there are seven of you. And that is an enormous amount of Fucking no matter who you are. “I—I would partake,” he agrees, eyes fixated on Cal’s hand.

He can't help himself, it's too tempting with the pearl of liquid that is pooling on the dark tip of his beautiful cock. Cal ducks his head and wraps his lips around the first inch of Raeden's cock while Oberyn's lubricated fingers push back inside him. Looking down at the prince, he wonders if he will agree because his own cock throbs at feeling both men inside him tonight.

“Does it help women?” Margaery asks with curiosity, thinking of all the ways this night might go. She has never had trouble becoming aroused for her partners before, but the idea of more is beckoning her tonight.

“It does.” The answer comes from Leyth. “It is why the women in the brothels are always so wet.” She tells you. It might be the one good thing Littlefinger did for his whores. Even if it was only so there was less probability of being hurt when fucking an unattractive client.

“Then perhaps we could all partake?” You look to your husband with curiosity. “Anything that enhances our pleasure tonight is surely welcome.”

“Would it hurt the babe?” That is the only reservation that Oberyn would have as he looks between the two servants.

“No.” Leyth shakes her head immediately. “Some of the girls…the ones who could bear children…they took the herb nearly every day but the babes were never affected.” She would never do anything to put your or the child in harm’s way, and dearly hopes that you and Oberyn know that.

Smiling slightly, Oberyn nods his head and looks at you with lust fueled eyes. “Yes, Star.” He agrees. “Anyone who wishes to take it, should.”

Cal moves gracefully from the bed to retrieve a simple metal box from the room he shared with Leyth. The powdered herb is familiar to them but not unwelcome, which was why they had kept it with them after leaving the brothel. The thought of one night in the future being like this was tempting. “Put a pinch of the powder under your tongue and let your spit wash it away,” he tells all of you, providing an example by demonstrating before he passes the little metal box around.

Leyth also demonstrates when the box reaches the ladies, moaning slightly at the familiar taste. “We will have a very good night.”

The powder is minty and dissolves quickly, leaving all of you looking a little more mischievous afterward. With debauchery ensured, you all tangled in each other’s arms immediately. The four women in the chaise are spread over every inch of the overlarge piece of furniture, and even with Leyth and Ellaria firmly between yours and Margaery’s thighs, you find your way to grope and lavish each other with kisses.

Oberyn groans at the taste of the herb and pulls Cal in for a kiss before turning his attention back to Raeden. “Now. I am going to ready you and I think Cal and I both will suck your cock.

It is not something either of the other men are going to object to, and Raeden falls back into the pillows with a groan. The sight of Oberyn and Cal twined together in a kiss would be enough to have him rock hard under almost any circumstance – but now they are bent over him so that his cock is receiving every lick of attention and it has set his entire body on fire.

Again, his fingers start to push back into Raeden’s body as he sucks on the man’s cock like it was the sweetest of treats. His tongue tangling with Cal’s as they try to wring cries of pleasure from him.

He is in ecstasy and there is no mistaking it. Raeden writhes and bucks under Oberyn and Cal's attentions, grasping at the sheets or their shoulders or anything he can get his hands on and you cannot tear your eyes away. "Look," you instruct Margaery, nudging her jaw with your nose and sucking a mark into the pale skin of her neck when her eyes move to the bed. "My husband is going to fuck yours, just like I fuck you."

"It is not quite the same, lover." She hums, her greedy eyes fixed on the way that her husband squirms and whines in need. "But just like they enjoy the sight of us wrapped up in one another, I will savor this view."

Of course it isn't exactly the same, but it is close enough to make you moan just at the sight of them -- which Leyth heightens with a stroke of her masterful tongue and chases with two fingers sliding inside your dripping pussy the way Oberyn's fingers are slipping deep inside Raeden. It is all like an incredible dream, and you truly hope that you will be able to sample every single pleasure possible tonight.

“You will look magnificent on my cock.” Oberyn groans, pulling off his leaking cock to purr pure filth to him. “Imagine our lovers walking in at any time to find you bent over, my cock buried in your ass and my hand wrapped around your cock as you moan my name.” He smirks. “Or on your knees, my cock in your mouth and Cal’s in your ass as we spit roast you, your leaking cock neglected until you cum from our attention.”

The entire room moans in unison at the images presented. There is not a single one person in this room who would not immediately climb into the bed and join in if they saw it. “If any of us walked into that, we would swallow every drop of cum and beg for more,” you predict, knowing that it is true for you at the very least.

“If he is bouncing on my cock, I expect you to ride his.” Oberyn chuckles, curling his fingers deep and pressing against his spot that immediately has Raeden keening.

He had forgotten. Or else thought that he was remembering the sensation with exaggeration. But the way pleasure courses through him with the press of Oberyn’s fingers on that specific, seemingly magical spot inside of him makes Raeden sure that this sensation is better than what he had felt years ago. Perhaps it is down to the skill of his partner but it is utterly remarkable. His broken cry to the gods is met with a moan from his wife when Ellaria sticks on her clit just so, and at once all of you seem to commit that much more to the debaucherous goal of the night.

"The Sunstones are having the time of their lives tonight." Oberyn quips, very pleased with himself as he finds that spot and curls his fingers against it again. If this herb works as well as Cal claims, he feels like Raeden will cum and cum and cum. He wants to see if his theory is correct.

“And we will make sure you do too,” Margaery promises, breathless, with one hand buried in Ellaria’s thick hair and the other squeezing the weight of your tit in her palm. Raeden squirms, panting his agreement and just trying to get as much of Oberyn’s fingers as possible inside him when he knows for certain that it is not enough. “More,” he begs, the word cracked with another moan even as his own hand is dedicated to making Cal ready in the very same way.

“You will.” He has no doubt of that. The night is too full of promise and he drinks in the moans of the group. “I will fuck every one of you tonight, including you, Lady Sunstone.”

“You too will be marked by her,” Raeden manages to tease even at the expense of another moan. He wears the marks from his wife’s fingernails like a badge of honor, and so do you. After tonight, all of you will.

“Vicious little tiger.” Oberyn chuckles, adding a third finger into her husband as he talks to Margaery.

He had asked for more, and he groans at getting it. His cock leaks precum, twitching and aching with need, and his back arches off the bed in eager anticipation. “Gods—yes—fuuuck—”

"How thrilling that I will possess both you and your wife tonight." He coos, smirking at the way Raeden's head tilts back. "Just as I have your soulmates." It's not meant to taunt him, just show him how he belongs here.

“As I have possessed yours.” Raeden grunts, groaning at the stretch of having another finger added to his tight hole. “Ours.”

Oberyn groans, his cock twitching in response and he hums. "Yessss, ours." He agrees. "Now you are going to spill into Cal's mouth. Give him a taste of what you are going to pump into his ass in just a few minutes."

Taking orders as a soldier and taking orders in bed are two different circumstances, but Raeden surprises himself with how little it bothers him to have those orders given. Instead, it only seems to spur him on tonight, and Cal too. Cal who has Raeden's cock so far down his throat that the man on his back is surprised he has not outright choked yet.

Ellaria hums as she looks up from between Margaery’s thighs. “He is close, lover.” She confides. “And sounds so sweet, but he tastes even sweeter on your tongue.”

Cal's own cock is beaded with precum as he swallows around Raeden's length, desperate to find out just how sweet that taste really is. Oberyn has three fingers buried deep, curling them expertly while he other hand kneads the flesh of Raeden's thighs and caresses his heavy balls, knowing that they - like his own and Cal's - will be emptied many times tonight. Raeden's breathing comes in ragged pants, moans becoming whines and keening curses the closer he gets to his first peak of the night. Climbing and climbing, his back lifts off the bed entirely when Oberyn and Cal's names tear from his lips for the first time and that first spurt of hot cum is followed by countless more.

Oberyn throbs, his own cock pulsing at the sight of Raeden cumming. Nearly about to burst himself from how erotic it is. Groaning as he continues to pump his fingers while the other man fills Cal’s mouth to where cum is sliding down his chin.

Cal's own moan is almost as loud as Raeden's, the other man scrambling to swallow as much as he possibly can while still losing a few strands of sticky cum to the column of his neck. For the first climax of the night, it is the perfect way to begin and has him nearly bursting in his own right.

Oberyn pulls his fingers out at Raeden and he hums with a grin on his face. “That is beautiful.”

"The first of many beautiful sights tonight." You had been watching too, always unable to tear your eyes away from the sight of Raeden's pleasure.

“Now one of our ladies needs to cum.” Oberyn says as he watches Ellaria dive back into Margarey’s cunt. “Will it be my star or my flower?” He asks curiously.

The so-called competition of the question is taken quite seriously by Ellaria and Leyth, it seems, and both women redouble their efforts on Margaery and your pleasure. As talented as Ellaria is, and as eager for this night as Margery has been, it is decidedly the newest member of the group's chance to come apart next – although you feel you might be directly at her heels with Leyth's clever tongue drawing you closer and closer to the edge.

Ellaria’s tongue curls around Margaery’s clit, sucking it into her mouth as a hand slides up to squeeze her breast. Her dark eyes fixed on her face and she’s humming to vibrate her bundle of nerves.

Margaery’s nails dig into Ellaria’s shoulder without apology, biting into the skin as her body tensed and her mouth falls open on a vocal scream. Her eyes nearly cross from the pressure and her cunt bears down on Ellaria’s king fingers tightly, drawing them in deeply before flooding them with slick release that runs all the way down and drips to Ellaria’s wrist.

Raeden moans, both from his own release and the loss of Oberyn's fingers while Cal pulls off his cock and watching his wife cum. He knows how talented that mouth is and he is sure that tonight, every one of you will collapse into a deep sleep for the few hours you get.

“How do you want us?” Cal asks Oberyn, knowing that however the prince wishes to have his newest lover, he will find a way to be under Raeden and take the force of them together with as much pride as pleasure.

His brow arches as he looks at Raeden. Contemplating the positions and how easy it will be for the other two men. “On your knees.” He decides, lifting to his own knees and wrapping his hand around his cock. “Hand me the oil.”

Call practically flattens himself to the bed immediately, hips rolled back to entice Raeden but also because he can’t help grinding his own cock into the mattress right now. Raeden takes the moment to sit up, lips crashing against Oberyn’s for a deep and intense tangling of tongues before he pulls away again to gasp for air and takes his position over Cal with his own ass in the air.

“Fuck.” Raeden groans when he hears the slick sounds of Oberyn piling up his cock and the bottle is pressed against his arm. “Ready yourself to plunge into Cal.” Oberyn strokes his ass possessively.

Four of you are watching from the chaise as Oberyn starts to slide inside Raeden, and Raeden in turn begins to break open Cal. The three men are as coordinated and careful as they can be in this moment but they aren’t the only ones moaning. It is a sight to behold and you are instantly panting with increased desire — chest heaving and threatening to have you moaning with every shallow breath.

“Ohhhhhhhhh.” Raeden’s eyes close, mouth open on a moan as the prince rocks into him steadily. Not forceful or impatient, it is just the right tempo to have him take the thickness of the man and desire more as his own cock sinks into the tight, welcoming hole of Cal’s body. The servant whimpers his name, making him twitch as he pushes back against him, eager to feel the lord’s cock firmly buried after so long without this kind of pleasure.

“If you feel half as good as you look, my loves, you must all be in ecstasy.” Even Leyth has paused to watch, kneeling between your legs, and she smiles up at you momentarily when you speak before curling her fingers determinedly inside you to hear the gasp it will pull from your chest. “You will cum so easily watching them, I expect,” she purrs. “I know you like to watch, princess. So keep your eyes on our men while I make you scream.”

“You know the Princess.” Margaery pulls Ellaria up for a kiss and to turn her over so she can touch and kiss while watching her husband as the filling to a delicious treat. “Her cunt gets so wet when she watches her lovers.”

"Can you blame me?" It is difficult to keep your eyes open as Leyth's remarkably clever tongue has your eyes nearly rolling back in your head as she works you closer and closer to the edge.

“Not at all.” She hums as she slides her fingers down and starts to rub Ellaria’s clit while her tongue shoots out to circle her breast.

Watching the three men together is vastly unlike watching them with anyone else. That tendency toward gentleness that Raeden has with partners who are not as physically strong as he is has vanished. He is not in control here but willingly giving all of that up to Oberyn. His groans rumble out from the depths of him as he submits completely to one man while still soothing his hands over Cal’s back whenever he needs to steady himself.

The choked cry catches in his throat when the next thrust comes rougher than the ones before. Signaling that the pace will pick up and there’s a sense of freedom to be had from the way Cal mewls under him.

"Gods." The moan from you on the chaise is more of a keen, and your fingers thread through Leyth's hair even as your hips grind down to meet her lips and tongue eagerly. "They will be the death of me but I will die a happy woman."

Oberyn’s eyes are fixed on where he is joined with Raeden until you whimper that statement. Chuckling as he looks over to where you are very eager splayed open for the lovely servant, he hums. “Not tonight, star.” He chides. “Perhaps we will let you expire when we have wrung every scream out of your throat.”

"Not a minute before," Margaery agrees, leaning over to flick her tongue across one of your nipples in a move that is surprisingly affectionate, before returning her full focus to Ellaria.

“Perfect.” The caress to Raeden’s hip is surprisingly gentle even as his hips snap forward. “You have chosen a perfect wife, Rae.”

"Is she n–not?" The last word is turned to a grunt with the forceful swing of Oberyn's hips, and Raeden's own slam into Cal with equal determination. The feeling of it is exquisite.

The chorus of moans pleases Oberyn, the feeling, the moment exactly what he had wished for. Tonight is about living, experiencing life to the fullest and what is better than a tight ass a round his cock while one of his soulmates has her cunt licked while the other is finger fucked? Surely the halls are filled with the sounds of pleasure coming from this room.

Leyth pitches you off the cliff of pleasure just moments later, humming into your dripping cunt as her fingers curl against that perfect spot inside you. The only thing stopping your thighs from squeezing Leyth's ears shut is her strategically-placed arm, holding you spread out for her so that you cannot do anything but quake and cry out as she skillfully shatters you into a million blissed out pieces.

Margaery and Ellaria watch. Her fingers curled deep into the paramours cunt, Margaery’s head twists around as she moans softly at the sight of your body shaking and heaving with pleasure.

“Fucking gorgeous.” Raeden’s head had been turned to you as well, and the way he groans when you cum is only half to do with Cal’s body bearing down on his cock so tightly. He nearly growls at the feeling, scratching his blunted nails down the other man’s spine. “Cal thinks so, too.”

“Yes.” The other man whines. “All of you, so -“ he moans when Raeden’s hips slap against his ass again, cock spurting a dribble of pre-cum onto the bed below him as he throbs. “So sexy. wanted to touch all of you.” He babbles. “W–wanted to.”

“Next time I hope you will not hesitate,” Ellaria purrs, watching the way his cock pulses with hungry fixation. “You need a cunt, Cal.” She declares with mischief in her voice. “Who do you want beneath you?”

“Anyone.” He moans, eyes rolling back into his head as he imagines filling one of the gorgeous ladies spread out and teasing him with the wet views of their cunts. He has never wanted to sink into a group more, even when he was having sex all the time. Even Leyth has admitted that the Prince’s lovers and friends are all people she would fuck willingly every day if asked. Neither one of them having an reservations about that now they have had months with just the two of them together and no demands on their bodies. “Please. I-I am close.”

“It should be you, lover,” your hand caresses Ellaria’s cheek only because you are not close enough to kiss her. “I know you have missed Cal’s cock.”

“You do not want to experience his cock?” She asks curiously. She had thought that you were becoming close to the servants and would want to be involved.

“Oh I do.” You can promise her that without hesitation. “But you have not cum yet. If you would rather cum for Margaery, I will gladly let these men weigh me into the mattress.”

“We will be in this position many more times.” She tells you breezily, tamping down her own fears. If Oberyn is lost tomorrow, she will not have you regret missing out on one experience with him. “Take your place under them and feel the power of all three.”

Leyth does not miss a beat, transferring her attention to Ellaria and Margaery after helping you off the chaise. The five steps you need to get to the bed are quick, and you slide across half the mattress to cup Cal’s jaw and bring his eyes to yours. “Hold still for just a moment and then you will have a slick cunt to cum in.”

His neck stretches slightly, eyes dark and lust blown. “Kiss me, Princess?” He chokes out.

That is a request you are glad to bend to, and you meet his lips with equal desire as you slide yourself under the clutch of slick bodies for which Cal is the anchor.

“Do not collapse on her.” Oberyn has no issue with you being under the group, but he will not have you take all their weight when his child is nestled inside your womb.

“Never.” They are all very aware of your condition and happy to have the new babe in the way. Making sure you and that babe are safe is the very top priority. Even so, Cal groans when you slip into place below him and wrap your hand around his cock to guide him into your velvet heat.

“Princess.” Breaking you open is an exquisite feeling. Looking down and seeing you beneath him as you take inch after inch of his cock. His own body being pushed forward by the much slower thrusts of the men behind him. “So— you are so tight.” He groans.

“She is ma—magnificent.” Raeden groans, so close to his own end that he can barely think. Every sense has been taken over by Oberyn and Cal.

“Yes she is.” Oberyn agrees, smirking slightly when he feels the way that Raeden is pushing back desperately. “I think my lord Sunstone wishes to spill his load again.” He teases, his fingers gripping the man’s hips fierce and he snaps his hips forward.

“Not everyone has your stamina, lover.” Ellaria is close now, too, with Leyth and Margaery both dedicated to pleasing her, and she throws her head back on the chaise when Margaery grazes her teeth along her swollen clit. “Cal will burst any moment,” she predicts with a moan.

“Fuck.” Raeden grits his teeth and feels his own body respond to the words and the way that Cal’s body is gripping him like a vice.

“Cum for us, love.” From where you are, you can look him in the eye with no effort in between Cal’s passionate kisses. “Cum in Cal and make him fill me, too.”

Your words make the world explode for Raeden. Gasping out a choked combination of Cal and Oberyn’s names, he gives into the pleasure that has been denied to him for years. The cock in his ass striking against pure Heaven, his own throbs and starts to fill the man below him with hot ropes of his seed.

Cal’s hips stutter mere moments later, slamming into yours with as much force as he can muster and painting your cunt with his own sticky cum. Both men are panting, glassy eyed with lust and still hard thanks to the powder that Cal has supplied.

“Cum, my prince.” Raeden begs desperately, enjoying the way Oberyn still rocks into him roughly. “I need to feel it.”

Oberyn’s answering grunt comes with a gleam in his eyes, and he knows you are all watching him with held breath. You all need to witness this as much as Raeden needs to feel it, knowing what it means to him. His jaw is clenched, giving him away, and you practically moan when you notice it. “He is close,” you promise your own paramour. “Squeeze his cock even once more and he will not be able to hold out.”

Oberyn hisses when Raeden immediately follows your suggestion and bears down on his cock. “Vixen.” He chokes out, snapping his hips forward one last time and grinding deep, closing his eyes as the orgasm consumes his attention.

There is no heat in the chastisement, just in Oberyn’s eyes, and you marvel at the way his beautiful body tenses completely and he groans Raeden’s name a the most holy prayer. They have both waited so long for this that it makes being a part of it all the more meaningful. Raeden shouts at the first feeling of Oberyn filling him — calls out to the gods in their heavens and then growls Oberyn’s name so fiercely that anyone would think that he was coming apart all over again. His fingers dig into Cal’s hips as Oberyn rides out his pleasure and Raeden unconsciously holds his breath. The moment seems to invigorate and nearly collapse him simultaneously but Cal is already angling the men to one side on the bed. When they did slump over and need five minutes of rest, they will fall beside you, not on you.

“This is the beginning of a glorious night.” Margarey hums, moving off the chaise so she can pet and kiss both you and her husband. Another affectionate peck for Cal and then last but not least, Oberyn. Showering everyone with attention as thanks for such a wonderful scene.

The pile of bodies on the bed grows one more time as Ellaria and Leyth move to join you, and the easy touches between all of you grow to more kisses before too long. There will be no rest tonight until everyone is entirely satiated — and that will not happen quickly.

“We must clean up before we touch you.” Oberyn murmurs against your lips. You had crawled out from under Cal and was dividing kisses between Raeden and Oberyn as they had stated to kiss fiercely.

“Am I so very pure?” To his mind you are, and you know that. Revel in it, even. He treats you like the most precious creature in the world now that you are carrying his child.

Oberyn snorts, nibbling on your pulse even as his still hard cock twitches inside Raeden. He has not pulled out of his body yet, could perhaps stay buried if he did not want to touch as man as he could tonight. “Very.” He teases. “The woman who begged me to marry her could not even fathom the woman carrying my child.”

“I think I would not even recognize that woman if I laid eyes on her again.” You could beg for more kisses, but that is about it.

“She is much more confidant about taking what she wants.” Ellaria coos, pulling away from Leyth and Cal for a moment. Her hand is already around the other man’s cock and pumping it as he moans against his partner’s breast.

“I learned that it is not a sin to take what is freely given.” And that, for you, has been so immensely freeing.

“Everyone here gives freely or they are not in this bed.” Margaery had been immensely comforted by the fact that both Leyth and Cal wished to be here.

“That is true.” Raeden purrs at his wife, plunging himself across several bodies to demand a kiss and pluck at her breast. “And you have taken to it very well, wife.”

Her moan is loud and symbolic of the night itself. Everyone pleasured and enjoying themselves.

“I believe it is your turn to be fucked by a prince, Lady Sunstone.” She is now the only one who has not had Oberyn’s cock and one who very much wants it, and you grin before leaning over to nip at the sensitive skin of her neck. “She is like me, husband,” you warn Oberyn, knowing it will actually delight him. “Slap her ass, pull her hair, and fuck her hard. You will be rewarded with the scratch of her nails and wailing moans of your name.”

Oberyn smirks as he rolls over, moving quickly to the water basin to wash and to get a cloth for Raeden and Cal. “We will see, Princess. I will paint her ass with my seed and see if it makes her any lovelier than she already is.”

“She is most beautiful when she is exhausted from cumming,” you attest, winking at Margaery before you lay back in the pillows and trace your fingers up and down the length of your slit. Cal’s cum mixed with your own and the feeling is wonderfully decadent. “That leaves us, my love,” you hum at Raeden as he quickly cleans himself. “Unless you plan to share Margaery with Oberyn? Then I will gladly finger fuck my own pussy at the sight.”

“Very fitting.” Raeden watches shamelessly, looking back and forth between you touching yourself and Oberyn cleaning his hard cock before he comes back to the bed. He aches, pleasantly so in a way that has been sorely missed, and he can feel the prince’s cum start to drip out of him. “He fucks my wife while I fuck his.”

“Then come here.” Reaching for him immediately, the smile on your face turns from amused to beaming and you tug him toward the bed again by his fingertips. “Take me however you want me. I promise my screams will reach the gods.”

“The night will be one that the gods are envious of.” Oberyn predicts with a smirk. “Old and new.”

******

The morning light wakes you first, as the pile of bodies on the bed in your chambers has wrapped itself up in a comfortable ball with seemingly only you facing the window. Or, at least, Oberyn has his face buried in your back with Raeden curled around him. Leyth is facing you in the center of the bed, with Margaery in Cal's arms on her other side, and Ellaria has one arm stretched out across all of their bodies as though she was reaching for you in her sleep. The night had left all of you as exhausted as you were satisfied and you had all fallen into dreams with your last partners and no hesitations whatsoever with your intimacy.

This morning, however, you would banish the brightness of the sun if it was in your power. Blot out its power and let night last forever. This morning, Oberyn will stand up and fight for his sister's honorable memory and Lord Tyrion's innocence. He will fight for his life. And the worry that that churns in you has you turning over in his arms to watch just a few more minutes of his peaceful sleep.

He wakes the moment you move, although he doesn’t give that away. Keeping still as you sigh heavily and his body stays relaxed as you shift and turn to face him. He can sense the sun, the light brighter than the flame of waxy candles that he had finally passed out to. Sometime, perhaps an hour before dawn. Even though he should be exhausted still, he’s invigorated, feeling as if he could fight a hundred Gregor Cleganes.

“The morning has come, my love.” As bare as a whisper, your fingertips do not even graze his skin but ghost over it as you watch Oberyn’s relaxed face. “Your morning. Your time in the light of the gods to bring Elia’s murderer to justice. The poets will sing about this morning with reverence.” Your voice shakes a little, tears threatening to burst through, but you swallow them with determination. “I promised you that I would be strong today, my love, and I will. You said for our people, but it is for you.” The tears you promised not to shed are close to the surface and you swallow again, thickly. “To fall in love with you was unthinkable, husband. It was never an option in my mind. But you—gods help me, you smiled at me and looked into my eyes and I knew somehow that my heart had room enough for two.” Your fingertips graze his beard gently and you almost choke, holding the sob in so you will not disturb anyone else in bed. “I believe you could conquer all Seven Kingdoms if you set your mind to it, my love. But—if you do not—if this morning goes awry—” Voice dropping impossibly lower, your open eyes are set firmly on his closed ones. On the set of his eyelashes and the tone of his skin in the rising sun. “Then the Mountain’s blood shall run from my dagger instead. I swear it on my own life.”

It is humbling to hear that vow set down from your sweet lips. Vengeance is not in your nature, revenge not steeped in your blood. That you would love him so fiercely to make that promise is like a soothing balm to the raw edges of the morning. He would never wish you to have to do that. He wants you to live your life peacefully, exactly how you wished. Neither does he want you to mourn him. Your first child, growing them, nurturing them in your body, should not be spent wallowing in misery.

“I love you, husband.” If he were awake you would seal the promise with a kiss, but as it is you study his features in repose. Memorizing his face one more time. “My soulmate.”

“I love you, wife.” His voice is scratchy, husky with sleep and he keeps it low to not disturb the others. Wanting this moment with you before any intrusions. He will have another moment like this with Ellaria as well, needing it. Just in case. “My soulmate.”

Under any other circumstance you might be upset with yourself for having woken him. But there is too much at stake today to lie to yourself that you are not glad to hear his voice. Instead you reach up again and let your hands rest on the line of his jaw. “Good morning, beloved.”

“No lovelier sight to greet the day.” Oberyn smiles as he looks over your still sleep softened features. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“A most pleasant ache,” you admit with a sly grin. There is not one single member of this unusual family that will not be sore today. “Did you sleep well?”

“For the few hours that I have slept, I feel as though I could move mountains.” He hums, smirking at his pun.

“My husband feels very clever this morning.” The pun practically has you rolling your eyes but you lean forward to kiss his lips instead.

“I always feel clever, but for you I will admit that I am going to be happy when this is over.” He accept the kiss and gives you another.

“As will we all.” As confident as you all may be in Oberyn’s abilities, he will not be the only person in that ring today. He is not the only factor at hand. And that alone is terrifying.

“We will be back in this room, making ready to leave this city in just a few hours.” Oberyn reminds you. “Every noble of Dorne who has come will be there as well.”

“It cannot come soon enough.” Pressing one more kiss to his lips, you summon a smile and remind yourself that sewing doubt in him helps no one. You are his wife. His soulmate. His support. And you can clutch Ellaria’s hand in mutual fear when the time comes.

“Would you like to join Ellaria and I in the bath?” He had thought to spend that time with his other soulmate, but he knows you might want to stay close while you can. “She will be helping me dress.”

“She deserves time with you this morning.” Ellaria has known him much longer and loved him much more ferociously, and it would be cruel of you to intrude on her moment with Oberyn. “I will wash and dress with Raeden and Margaery, and we will all present as a unified party to the capital.”

He touches the necklace that the three of you had worn. Raeden’s necklace was equally beautiful and It had made him incredibly possessive when he had seen all of you wearing it. It only made the night even sweeter when you had disappeared together and then reappeared wearing them. “Dorne is stronger with the three of you beside us.” He tells you honestly. For so long, it has been him and Ellaria. Lovers have come and gone but the two of them are no longer just the two of them. He has subtly started thinking of your group as his, just as he is yours.

“Dorne will be stronger when we all return home together.” Having made your promise when he was sleeping, you will not allow yourself to entertain any other possibility aloud this morning. It will do no good, especially not for him.

“Of course it will.” Oberyn smirks, “we will set Dorne on it ear and it will be better for it.”

“The only thing I have ever done that would shock Dorne is make a husband of its prince.” Still though, you smile. Knowing how unbelievable that news will be to many of the people. “And I am honored that you love me as I love you.”

“I do love you.” Oberyn whispers seriously. “Until the end of time and my bones turn to dust.”

“May that be an extraordinarily long time from now,” you murmur, fingers delicately tracing the lines of his face.

“It will be.” The vow is make as he traces your own face gently and the others begin to stir. “When I am too old to sire a child.”

“That will never happen,” Raeden chuckles, his voice hoarse and cracked as he stretches at Oberyn’s back. “You will be making new babies the same age as your great-grandchildren.”

“Especially if I get more of whatever Cal fed us last night.” Oberyn jokes as the man’s eyes open. “My legacy will overrun the Seven Kingdoms.”

“There are three women in this bed who would be glad to bear you more children.” It would be four if Leyth could have children, but there is no use harping on the impossible. “And you, too, Lord Sunstone.”

“It is my hope that one of you is already carrying my child.” He can’t help but look smug at the prospect as he leans in and kisses Oberyn’s shoulder. “So our children can run the gardens together and grow up as close as siblings.”

“That is a wonderful dream,” Margaery murmurs sleepily, already smiling. “When we reach home I will see a Maester right away.”

"It is time." Oberyn grunts softly, hating to pull away from the warm bodies in the bed, but he needs to prepare for his trial by combat battle with the man who had murdered his sister.

******

When the party from Dorne arrives in the stadium with matching emblems, Dornish dress in House Martell's colors, and looks of fierce pride on all of your faces, it is the sound of bells that welcomes and warns you all at once. The leather trim on all of your cloaks and gowns matches Oberyn's armour. The oils rubbed into your skin even smell of Dornish herbs. You, Ellaria, and Margaery are all even wearing your hair in traditionally Dornish styles. There is no question whom you represent, and Oberyn walks proudly out in front with you on one arm and Ellaria on the other as Raeden and Margaery follow close behind. Today is about honor, and no matter what happens, you will all hold your heads high.

Oberyn smirks as Tywin, Cersei and their dower looking entourage arrive. The head of the Lannisters looks as if he’s sucked down a cup of sour wine. Or had walked in on his children fucking. “Look at him.” Oberyn hums as he strides to the tent that has been erected with his weapons already in place on a table. “He looks like he had taken a disappointing cock in his ass.”

You and Ellaria snicker softly at the image Oberyn paints, and walk with him directly to the table. There are chairs in place but you all know that you will be too nervous to sit, making you all the more grateful for the pitcher of wine that has been placed out. This is Cal and Leyth's doing, for there is a small pitcher of fruit juice beside it for you, and you step forward to pour Oberyn a goblet of wine knowing that Cal will have made sure it is Dornish.

“Make sure not to touch the spear, my love.” Oberyn cautions. “It has fangs.” The poison has been applied, although there is another powder he will rub on it before the fight begins.

There is some cheering from spectating peasants who have no idea the enormity of the importance this morning bears for Oberyn. but the ripple of a gasp rips through the crowd when the legendary warrior prince drinks his wine in one gulp and turns to Ellaria to bestow a passionate kiss before giving the same to you.

“I think they might hate you more than me.” Margaery hums as she looks towards the seats where her former family sits. Her father’s face is mottled red and he might snap the arms of the chair he is gripping it so tightly. Tywin’s glare matches Cersei’s and she’s felt the weight of their anger.

"My husband's sense of humor is rubbing off on me," you mumble just loud enough for all of your party to hear. "I could suggest that the prince and Lady Sunstone share a kiss as well."

“That might make my father keel over.” She giggles quietly and hums pleasantly at the thought. “Although I will kiss him as soon as you and Ellaria does after his victory.”

“I should like to see his reaction to that,” Raeden chuckles and leans down to kiss his bride, drawing an even more animated reaction from the crowd.

"It would be one that all of the Seven Kingdoms should see." Oberyn chuckles himself, his eyes sliding towards the Lannisters and he smirks.

The bells cease their tolling only moments before Tyrion Lannister appears with guards flanking him on either side. "Looks like very light armour," he observes when he is hurried under the same tent as the Dornish party to stand beside his champion. Clearly, Tyrion is concerned.

Oberyn breaks away from his kiss with Ellaria, annoyed by the criticism. "I like to move around."

The youngest Lannister is obviously unamused with his answer because he continues to grumble at him. "You could at least wear a helmet." Oberyn picks up the goblet that you have refilled and starts to drink. "You shouldn't drink before a fight." Tyrion huffs.

Motioning towards the man in chains, Obery quips, "You learn this during your years in the fighting pits?" He looks down at the cup. "I always drink before a fight."

"It could get you killed." Tyrion reminds him flatly, looking around at the party surrounding him. At the support he has. It would be useless to admit that he envies the man for being so adored, and instead he grumbles again. "It could get me killed."

Oberyn sets down his cup and looks at the little man with certainty. "Today is not the day I die." He assures him, aware that the poison will guarantee his victory against the Mountain. Ellaria hums happily, sliding her hand over his leathers and looking towards you with a smirk. She knows both of you find his confidence sexy and right now, all of you need to believe that statement.

"Have faith in your Champion, Lord Tyrion," you remind him, as the crowd begins to roar again. It is louder this time, more excited than merely intrigued, and you turn to watch Gregor Clegane himself - the Mountain - walking into the arena. So that is why they call him a Mountain, you think to yourself with instant terror. And you know Ellaria is just as scared when she grips your hand tightly. "You're going to fight that?" She asks Oberyn with wide eyes.

Oberyn swaggers over to the edge of the table and leans against it, looking over at where the Mountain has made his appearance. "I'm going to kill that." Ellaria's eyes are fixed on him. "He's the biggest man I've ever seen." Her grip tightens, nearly crushing your fingers as her own worry spills over the edge of her calm facade. Oberyn will do as he pleases, he has for years and she has never truly worried, but that? That is a foe that he might not be able to beat.

Bending over the wash basin, Oberyn cleans his hands of the wine. "Size does not matter when you are flat on your back."

"Thank the gods." You and Tyrion manage to murmur at the same time.

A horn sounds its simple fanfare, calling the combatants and the audience to order. Grand Maester Pycelle has appeared on the edge of the ring and though he is surely doing his best to be heard throughout the stadium, his aged voice is not powerful. "In the sight of gods and men, we gather to ascertain the guilt or innocence of this..." he stumbles, not quite knowing what descriptor to use until he settles on the usual one. "Man...Tyrion Lannister. May the Mother grant them mercy. May the Father give them such justice as they deserve. May the Warrior guide the hand of our champion–" He is cut off when Tywin grows impatient and motions for the horn to blow again, ultimately bowing lamely and shuffling off to the stands once more.

Oberyn turns, pulling Ellaria into his arms and kissing her passionately, before she steps back and you take her place. Every feeling, every touch and mark on your body that belongs to him is poured into the much too short kiss. His heart starting to pound in anticipation.

Ellaria has one of Oberyn's hands in hers and you have the other as the sound of Gregor Clegane's immense sword leaving its sheath can be heard across the ring. "Don't leave us alone in this world." She entreats Oberyn with a note of desperation that is so unlike her but so like this situation. Realistically, would either of you be truly alone? Of course not. You would have each other, if nothing else. But formally? Legally? You could be denied everything without him there to provide for you – and that is what terrifies her. That everyone in this tent is under his protection and his alone until the time you set foot on Dornish sand.

"Never." He can promise her that. Without hesitation or contemplation. He would never leave any of you alone if he could help it.

As soon as Ellaria lets go of his hand, you pull Oberyn into your arms and place the hand of his that you had been holding on the curve of your stomach. The nature of the gesture is unmistakable, and as the announcement of your pregnancy had not yet been made, a gasp ripples through the crowd. But that is precisely what you were hoping for. While the people of King's Landing are murmuring in shock, they do not notice you slipping the sheath of an extra dagger under the folds of your husband's leather armour. "For Elia," you whisper to him, giving the sheathed dagger a quick tug to make sure that it is secure before you kiss him once more. "And for your family. Be swift, my love."

There is a quick wink towards Raeden and the squire that has been a part of Oberyn's travels and will attend him during the fight, tosses him the spear. The lightweight, yet sturdy wood feels perfectly balanced in his hands and he wastes no time twirling it around in his hand. Showing off is part of his very nature and part of his strategy. He wants the crowd to cheer for him. It's obvious they do when he spins around for the final time and grins up at the covered tents where Twyin and his whore daughter try to look unimpressed.

From where you stand under your tent at the edge of the ring, you and Ellaria are already on edge as you watch Oberyn showboat and the look of disinterested murderousness in the Mountain's eyes deepens. The crowd cheering pushes your heart up into your throat because you know that it bolsters him – he feeds off the energy of those around him in almost every circumstance. This one is no different.

Turning to face the man who had murdered his beloved sister, the grin on his face is satisfied, eager to address the man who would confess his crimes to the crowd. "Have they told you who I am?" He demands, wanting to know if he remembers his sister, or if the years and his numerous crimes for the Lannisters have dimmed his memory. The Mountain seems unimpressed. "Some dead man." He tells him right before he lunges with a swing of his broadsword.

The first few strikes sound terribly, the clash of metal and strong wood echoing through the space like taunts. Every strike seems to pierce your heart rather than deter Oberyn's confidence, and if that is how it must be then you will gladly absorb every blow.

"I am the brother of Elia Martell." He announces, keeping his voice loud but not shouting into the stands because he's addressing the man in front of him. "Do you know why I have come all the way to this stinking, shit-pile of a city?" He asks, squaring his body in front of the giant of a man. "For you." Instantly, he crouches and attacks, swinging his spear and nearly catching Clegane under his heavy helmet.

Oberyn swings his staff elegantly. Of course the weapon was molded for him but he has also molded himself to the weapon – and Clegane's lumbering and grunts only serve to make him look inelegant compared to the smaller, much nimbler form of the Red Viper. Even though you gasp when the Mountain lunges, you cannot tear your eyes away. Oberyn slides backward, deftly avoiding the attack as he continues to taunt his foe.

"I'm going to hear you confess before you die." This time Oberyn isn't facing the beast in front of him, instead his words go up into the crowd with a ripping of confusion from the spectators. Tywin's jaw is so tight that it could shatter if he clenches his teeth together. Turning back to Gregor Clegane, he makes his accusations. "You raped my sister. You murdered her. You killed her children." There is hatred in his eyes and swings his spear up. "Say it now and we can make this quick."

Your hand tightens around Ellaria's as you watch the growling Mountain lunge at Oberyn and the clanging of their weapons rings through the stadium. Feeling their presence at your back, you cannot tear your eyes away from the ring to look to them, but you know Raeden and Margaery are just behind you. Oberyn was right - of course he was - it is his speed and his dexterity that keeps him ahead of Clegane.

When he hits the Mountain across his back with the spear, he knocks the man's helmet off. Revealing his disgusting face to the crowd. "Say it. You raped her." Oberyn spits out, deflecting another attack from the other warrior. "You murdered her." He can still sling his accusations as he spins around, although the Mountain is just shouting as he lunges for Oberyn again. Again, his spear is used to push the sword's momentum down to the ground and he looks into the eyes of his sister's killer. "You killed her children."

The accusation is repeated with every swing, every lunge, and every blow. Oberyn is a blur in the ring as the lumbering Mountain tries to keep up, but the Red Viper of Dorne is too quick for his reflexes and heavier armor. Once he manages to knock Oberyn toward the ground but the prince only springs up to his feet again seconds later – the sharp intake of breath under your tent is loud enough for other to hear but still none of you can take your eyes off of the fight.

His rage manifests as amusement, a smile on his face, although it doesn't reach his eyes. The fight has gone beyond playful and taunting. The years of fury have built up and the Mountain knocks the spear out of his hand, knocking him to the ground.

The crowd may cheer as Oberyn flips out of the way, his training making him lithe and athletic while you and Ellaria swallow shaky gasps and clutch each other's hands impossibly harder. Tyrion may hyperventilate at any moment, watching his champion be so performative, but he says nothing. He knows that you and everyone else under this tent are terrified for the life of the Prince of Dorne, not for the life of the Imp of Casterly Rock.

The next spear is tossed to Oberyn and his attacks turn more vicious. Even as he's sent down to his knees, he is bouncing back. This time after a flurry of attacks and deflecting, the giant grabs Oberyn and tosses him across the combat area.

By this time you count three wounds that the poisoned blade has made in the Mountain's flesh, but you know nothing of poisons. How long will it take to begin killing him? How will it kill him? Will it weaken him immensely, or simply slow him down? Was there even enough poison to do Oberyn any good in the moment? You flinch when he is thrown to the ground but Ellaria holds to your fast, urging you not to look away. The two of you have promised to survive this fight side by side and that is not a promise either of you can break.

Stomping away from the Mountain as he tries to regain his footing, Oberyn's fervor spirals. "You raped her!" He shouts, "You murdered her!" He watches as the other man attacks again, spinning around and this time, he digs the hook of the spear into the back of the Mountain's heel. Ripping open flesh and making him scream in agony. Panting as Clegane drops to his knees. Gripping his spear, he screams again. "You killed her children!" Running forward, Oberyn leaps up and drives the spear into the Mountain's chest, making blood spurt from his chest.

There is a moment where people almost smile. Tyrion and Jamie Lannister both look like they are about to, mostly out of shock, and Ellaria almost laughs in relief. You and Margaery make identical sobbing sounds that are halfway like laughs, and even Raeden blows out a long breath. Clegane is flat on his back, and you could swear that you see him twitch while Oberyn circles him with growling anger.

To add insult to injury, Oberyn leaves the spear in the man's chest. "Wait. Are you dying?" He asks. "No. No. No." He growls as he paces. "You can't die yet. You haven't confessed." He reaches over and yanks the spear out of his chest, assured that poison has worked through the man's body. He will die in agony and yet it will still not be good enough. "Say it." He resumes marching around him as he groans on the ground. "Say her name. Elia Martell." As his blood boils, his mind spins in a murderous rage. "You raped her. You killed her children." The spectators are quiet as his voice rings out of the seats. "Elia Martell." He points at Tywin Lanniser sitting on his cushioned chair. "Who gave you the order?" He looks back at the Mountain and then back at Tywin. "Who gave you the order?! Say her name! You raped her! You murdered her!" Around and around, Oberyn circles the fallen man, his voice climbing higher ever time he speaks. "You killed her children." Nothing matters but this. Nothing. Not Tyrion. He had never really cared about the little man's guilt or innocence. He cares about his revenge.

Oberyn circles the giant, roaring his accusations and demanding that Clegane confess. Once - just once - he manages to look up to the tent where all of you are watching, and the unmistakable pride in Ellaria's expression and the firm determination in yours makes him smile with grim satisfaction. But he inches just a hair too close to the dying man in the middle of the ring. Clegane's hand comes out and snatches at Oberyn's ankle, sending the legendary Viper to ground once more. Tyrion panics, eyes widening; and you and Ellaria gasp out loud. The Mountain is moving and Oberyn is on his back.

Please, Gods...please do not take him like this...

There is a split second where the future flashes in front of his eyes. One that he would not be present for. His lover becoming jaded and bitter, obsessing over revenge for his death and oddly enough, he does not want that. His Sand Snakes being killed by the bastard Lions in a vain attempt to find justice for their father before they are ready. Raeden being run through in a battle to get you and his heir out of the city. It's not above Tywin Lanniser and he knows that the man had seen the way you had brought his hand to your stomach. Then you, his lovely wife. Carrying his child. The horrible idea of you suffering the same fate as his sister. Perhaps even at the hands of the same man.

His hands flail for a moment as the weight of the man presses him down into the stone. "Elia Martell." He growls, hands reaching for Oberyn's head and the Prince's eyes squeeze shut as the gloved thumbs cover them and start to press. Oberyn screams, the sound pure agony as he touches the dagger you had tucked into his waist and he knows that confession would be the best he would ever get. Not before the man seriously damages his eyes or kills him. His pride, his arrogance had landed him on his back, the poison not killing him fast enough. "E-Elia." He gasps out, wrapping his fingers around the hilt and pulling it out, shoving it up through the bottom of the Mountain's chin and into his head as hard as he can. "Elia Martell." Oberyn chokes out. "Of Dorne." Gregor Clegane's eyes widen and he gurgles, blood spewing out of his mouth onto the prince's face. "This is for her."

The collection gasp of shock from the assembled audience cannot compete with the way you and Ellaria scream. The fierce shrieks coming deep inside both of you when all you can see of Oberyn is that the man you both love - your soulmate - is flat on his back beneath the Mountain's murderous bulk. Raeden has to push Margaery backward into Cal's grip so he can wrap one arm around you and Ellaria, barely managing to stop you from storming the ring yourselves to finish the Mountain with your bare hands. He knows you would manage it somehow. That together there could be nothing from stopping you and Ellaria if you got your hands on Gregor Clegane.

You struggle against Raeden in tandem, screaming Oberyn's name, until you see a flash of metal against the late morning sun and another flood of blood. It is impossible to tell whose blood it is at first, until a look of relief washes briefly over Jamie Lannister's face.

"Oberyn!" Prying Raeden's hand open, you sprint for the center of the ring as the Mountain's lifeless body is shoved aside to reveal a triumphant Prince of Dorne has, indeed, survived.

He has survived.

Avenged his sister.

Won the day.

And you pull him into your arms just a moment before Ellaria reaches his other side so that both of you can help him to his feet.

"The gods have made their will known." Tywin Lannister's voice shakes with anger and disbelief, but the results are indisputable. "Tyrion Lannister, in the name of King Tommen of the House Baratheon, First of His Name...you have been found innocent of the murder of King Joffrey." He sounds as if he could throw something, but you barely hear the declaration. Oberyn is standing on his own two feet with his arms around you and Ellaria, and that is all that matters.

Panting and breathless, Oberyn absorbs the roar of the crowd, but is doesn't mean anything to him. Neither does the effusive gratitude of a near sobbing Tyrion as the guards unlock his chains, setting him free. All that matters is that he is still breathing and you and Ellaria are in his arms. He surges forward, pressing his lips to Ellaria's and then yours in front of the crowd as Raeden and Margaery stand to the side. His need for justice has been quenched. While the Mountain did not implicate Tywin, he can live with the fact that her murderer has breathed his last breath and all of King's Landing now knows.

"Let us leave this fucking place." He decides breathlessly, grinning at you and jostling Ellaria closer to him. "Never to return. Dorne calls us home."

______

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borom1r · 7 months ago

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WAILING @theshakespearetrash sent me 2 ask memes for Boromir asks (who is very much Not my OC skfhshfjjs but I will Always do character analysis I love character analysis so much. rotating him so fast in my brain. microwaving him on high)

+ not to be a kinnie on main (voice of a man who is always a kinnie on main) but I will be answering these all w/ a sort of Boromir-lives scenario in mind -w-

anyways ask meme 1 + ask meme 2

1. What memory would your OC rather just forget?

ok I feel like it’s the cop-out answer to say “his fall to the ring” but I feel like Boromir is the sort of person to.. not like stew on things but very much takes the stance of “good or bad, all my choices got me to the current moment and made me who I am.” + I feel like there’s so much tangled up in his fall completely beyond his control where that’s the only memory that he’d like. actively want to erase from his mind

2. What's something about your OC that people wouldn't expect just from looking at them?

HM. good with kids. I think unless you’d seen him with Faramir/his cousins when they were younger you wouldn’t guess (he’s a soldier and a very plain man when he’s not putting on a show for his father), but he’s just genuinely great with kids

3. What is your OC's fatal flaw? Are they aware of this flaw?

loves too much + quick to lose hope. painfully aware of this

4. When scared, does your OC fight, flee, freeze or fawn?

fight response. 100% the kind of man who gets kicked out of a haunted house for punching a scareactor even though he knew a scare was coming. Faramir and Aragorn have both almost gotten throttled bc they unintentionally snuck up on him

5. How far is your OC willing to go to get what they want?

OOO. When He Is Of Sound Mind, not actually very far. he was raised with the knowledge he would be giving his life to Gondor, whether he died in battle or sat on the throne as steward. add to that the act he puts on for Denethor, everything he does to protect Faramir— he’s a man born to serve. his own wants come last

6. How easily could your OC be convinced to do something that goes against their moral compass?

it would take. a DESPERATELY long time and an almost complete degradation of his mental state. Boromir arrives in Rivendell in October 3018, and the very next day is the Council, at which point he sees the ring and is IMMEDIATELY influenced by it. yet he doesn’t fully fall to it until the end of February 3019. he’d been fighting its pull for almost four whole months by the time he does anything malicious. resisting the One Ring for FOUR MONTHS. <- reasons why if I see someone call Boromir weak for falling to it I will see red.

7. What's one way your OC has changed since you first came up with them?

teehee obviously again Boromir is not my OC so I will take this as an excuse to Be A Kinnie + say, I do remember Boromir being returned to us sometime after my coronation. so that’s one way my memories differ from canon, which is sort of an answer to this prompt snfjsjfj

8. Would your OC ostensibly be able to get away with murder?

OH YEAH. I mean yeah if we’re talking like actual criminal murder and not just Slaying People On A Battlefield like. yeah 100% he would IF he was within Minas Tirith. you know Denethor would do everything in his power to cover that up lmfao

9. Do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your OC?

YEAH YAYYYY I GET TO MAKE MORE PPL LISTEN TO CROM AND BARONESS!!!!

anyways “have you ever seen a man so strong have you ever seen a man so great when he fights time stands still and everything seems so unreal but deep inside of him this man is torn” what if I bit things about this song

+ also listening to Magnolia and Shock Me by Baroness with Aragorn/Boromir in mind makes me ill. im Unwell.

10. What's an AU that would be interesting to explore with your OC?

HMMMMM The Frankenstein Chronicles gave me brain worms so I might write a Frankenstein-inspired thing at some point. sth sth consequences of divine resurrection

11. What is your OC's weapon of choice? Have they ever actually used it?

RAAAAGH. AUTISM TIMEEEEE.

Boromir uses a hand-and-a-half arming sword (meaning it’s balanced for single or double-handed use, with a crossguard). it’s a really elegant sword, very simple and utilitarian. speaks to an adaptable combat style as well. but, interestingly? Boromir carries a Rohirric shield, and if you notice Rohirric swords don’t actually HAVE crossguards the way Gondorian blades do. this tracks, and was common with Roman and early Germanic swords— BECAUSE these cultures were Also relying on shields for blocking.

and an additional note, Faramir’s sword is single-handed. so we’ve got a ranger who prefers the use of a bow and hasn’t experimented much with his sword combat, and his brother who prefers a sword and carries a very versatile blade with 1) a Rohirric shield and 2) a ranger’s vambraces designed to protect his arms from a (nonexistent) bowstring. I just find Boromir’s mix of protective gear so interesting, esp if you consider he and Théodred as at LEAST friends. like Boromir carries so much of the people he cares for with him into strange lands even when he (arguably) has little need for such gear

12. Is your OC self-destructive? In what ways?

yes and no. I think, not consciously? but he absolutely values himself lower than the people he cares for. he goes to Rivendell to keep Faramir out of danger, he takes multiple arrows to the chest and keeps fighting to defend Merry and Pippin. I think if there’s a risk of someone he loves getting hurt, all self-preservation goes out the window

13. If you met your OC, would the two of you get along?

oh I would be staring at him like a predatory animal and trying to psychically convince him to lay on me in full armor

14. How does your OC want to be seen by other characters?

HGH. ok I don’t think he necessarily. does?? and this is generally a Silly Little Headcanon bc of a comment a Most Beloved Friend made abt how everyone gets their autism from their dad (real+true) + now in my head “haha Faramir got his autism from Boromir instead” BUT. like genuinely I don’t think Boromir has an actual image of himself in his head or like processes that ppl perceive him, necessarily. and particularly when his father is holding him up as this aspirational figurehead for Gondor, like… I think he’s just himself, in his head. idk how to describe it well for the neurotypical ppl in the room snfskfjs sorry. like I don’t process myself as having Traits so ppl tell me they think I’m cool or funny or they enjoy being around me and it’s always like “!!! oh!” + I think Boromir is the same way. I think Faramir could describe Boromir to him + Boromir would just be like. “huh.”

15. Does your OC have a faceclaim? If so, who?

it’s Sean Bean + it will always be Sean Bean. sorry other Boromirs you simply pale in comparison

16. What is your OC's pain tolerance like?

VERY high by necessity. he’s a soldier he’s absolutely patched up his own injuries before, at least to hold over until he could see an actual healer

17. What is the worst thing you have put your OC through story-wise?

ahh. I wrote a very personal fic exploring self harm urges w/ Boromir, so I suppose that

18. Is your OC more cold and detached or up close and personal?

very personable, when he’s of sound mind sndnsj

19. How does your OC behave when enraged?

oh he’s a silent anger type for sure. just seethes quietly. hello, consequences of spending time in an environment where you have no actual outlet for your anger + must simply sit there and Stew.

20. Does your OC have a tendency to get jealous? If so, how does this manifest?

again, When He’s Of Sound Mind, no. the man’s got a big heart and life’s too short to be petty

21. Does your OC have any illnesses or disorders? How do they handle it?

hitting him with the autism beam bc I can. I do also think he’s lost at least partial use of his arm in a Boromir Lives scenario, considering where the first arrow struck him

22. What character alignment would you consider your OC to be?

HMMM neutral good. he’s not chaotic enough to be.. chaotic (lol), and I think he’s too willing to go against Gondorian Popular Opinion to be lawful.

23. What emotion is the hardest for your OC to process? How about express?

HMMMMM pain, actually. or “weakness.” I think if he can quantify it in his head as “showing weakness” then it’s getting stuffed in a mental box and Not Addressed

24. What is an alternative life path your OC might have gone down? How different would their life be if they'd made those decisions?

ok well. None. I think with his circumstances he had zero choice in his path. HOWEVER. I am deeply DEEPLY fond of Boromir learning how to play an instrument after the war ends. I STILL struggle to blow my wassail horn that shit takes SKILL that I do not currently have and Boromir was the BEST at blowing his horn?????? I think he deserves to learn how to play an instrument, esp bc Aragorn, Merry and Pippin would ALL be delighted to have Boromir play while they sing. Boromir learning hobbit folk songs????? Rohirric songs, to honor Théodred?? yeagh.

25. What is your favorite thing about your OC?

HES SO. FUNDAMENTALLY LOVING. love is such a core aspect of his character he is so wholly loving that the ring has NO CHOICE but to try to twist that love. bc it’s all Boromir has. love. im going to throw up abt him.

AAAAAAAAAND:

alone: How does your OC deal with loneliness? Have they ever been completely alone before? How do they act when there's no one around to see them?

has he ever BEEN completely alone? mm, no. has he ever felt that isolated? I think absolutely, by the time the fellowship leaves Caras Galadhon. obviously he doesn’t deal with it well el oh el.

as for how he acts when no one’s around to see him… I don’t think much changes, tbh. he’s not the kind of man to Perform for anyone except his father, and then with the express purpose of placating the man and keeping his ire towards Faramir to a minimum

betrayal: Has your OC ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? Has your OC ever betrayed someone who trusted them?

been betrayed? hm. truthfully, no, though I’m certain he felt betrayed by Aragorn’s reluctance to be anything resembling a king.

has He betrayed someone? Technically Yes, though again, if we apply the qualifier of “When He’s Of Sound Mind” the answer is no. his betrayal comes under the influence of a Malicious Magical Artifact Which Has Been Fucking With His Mind For Months, so.

bound: Has your OC ever been imprisoned or captured? What happened? How did they get out? Did the experience leave any scars?

ooo, hm. I think not, actually, though it is a fun little idea for angst

break: What would cause your OC to break down completely? What do they look like when that happens? Has anyone ever seen them at their lowest?

gestures wildly at canon. I mean that’s his lowest. we’ve all seen it.

desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

again, canon— to see his people safe. he’s very open with that desire, lol

failure: What's your OC's greatest failure? Have they been able to move past it? Does anyone else know about it?

AH. canon again. though what he does to move past it… mm. quite a lot of atonement, I think. perhaps of the self-destructive, working-himself-too-hard variety. I do think speaking with Faramir about *his* experience with the ring would help, because Boromir is the first to hold Faramir up as this sort of paragon of Goodness. so I think to know *Faramir* was tempted would help him better ground his experiences as, like…. Not A Deep Moral Failure Exclusive To Himself

fear: What is your OC's greatest fear? What do they do when confronted with it? Are they open with their fear, or do they hide it away?

ehehe. this is one thing I’ve touched on in a Faramir-centric fic, but the idea that the ring showed Boromir visions of Faramir dying at Denethor’s hand should he fail to return with the ring.

had Boromir lived to discover Denethor had nearly burned Faramir alive…… Mmmm. mmmmmmmm.

future: What's the worst possible future for your OC? Are they taking steps to avoid that outcome? Are they even aware it's a possibility?

worst possible? if he’d actually managed to claim the ring. I shan’t elaborate -_-

ghost: Who or what haunts your OC? What happened? How do they live with their ghosts?

MM. his own actions. dead friends, dead loved ones. though if you mean literally, haunts him, I do like to think that Théodred’s Oðr pays Boromir a visit every now and again

guilt: What is your OC guilty about? How do they handle their guilt? Do they try to avoid guilt, or do they accept it?

see above. handles it?? mm. atonement, again. direct action. he accepts it and does what he can to make it right

hate: What does your OC hate? Why? How do they act towards the object of their hatred?

HATE? Orcs, probably. Sauron. that tentacle motherfucker outside Moria. he’s not a hateful man, so. shrugs.

heartbreak: Have they ever had a relationship that ended badly? Experienced some other kind of heartbreak? What happened?

that ended badly in the interpersonal sense? mm, unlikely. more ended badly in the “somebody fucking died” sense.

I do think he had One (1) fledgling romance in Dol Amroth that ended with the other squire dying and that was sort of the catalyst for “ah. If I love people they’ll Probably Die, so maybe I won’t do that” baggage that he didn’t really unpack until, I think, Théodred. add the additional layers of Denethor Being Denethor and Boromir having such great standards to live up to…. with all the love in my heart, that relationship only happened bc Théodred saw Boromir, went “I need to fuck that Gondorian so bad it makes me look stupid” and proceeded to work his way through 1700 layers of gondorian mental bullshit just so he could suck some dick (me too bestie)

hide: What does your OC hide? Why do they hide it?

hm. my first instinct is to say “not much” but ultimately I think he’d hide anything he can quantify as “weakness.” his own distress, any physical pain if he needs to be up and moving, etc. he’s only able to share that earnest moment with Aragorn in Caras Galadhon bc of Galadriel’s influence. he’s not used to being seen. so, if there is sth that would hold him back from fulfilling his duty as a soldier it is absolutely getting hidden/ignored.

hunt: Who or what is your OC hunted by? A person, a feeling, a past mistake? Is your OC able to let their guard down, or are they constantly alert?

hm. not necessarily Hunted, but I do think he is followed by Denethor’s expectations. it’s sth I’ve talked abt in another ask + that I go into in the costuming doc but such a key element of Denethor’s design is his son’s motifs but Richer, Grander. so… I do think Boromir is constantly alert of, like, how his father will perceive him, bc there is this very insidious sort of competition, this need for Denethor to show his sons up (whether a conscious need or not). and I do think that would weigh on Boromir quite heavily

mask: Does your OC wear a mask, literally or figuratively? What goes on beneath it? Is there anyone in their life who gets to see who they are under the mask?

mm again I think he only really wears a mask/performs for Denethor. anyone else would be too much effort for too little reward. at least if he plays Golden Son for his father, it keeps Faramir from being harassed as much

however, as for who gets to see him when he’s.. not just unmasked but actually RELAXED… Faramir, his uncle and cousins, Théodred, Aragorn, the others in the fellowship but particularly Merry and Pippin

midnight: What keeps your OC up at night? Do they have nightmares? Fears? Anxieties? What do they do in the small hours of the morning when they should be sleeping?

does he have nightmares? oh definitely. what he does in the small hours of the night? depends. if he’s on campaign/traveling/otherwise away from Minas Tirith he will either lay there in his bedroll and Think (bad) or get up and write letters. depends entirely on where he’s stationed/who he’s with. if he Is at home in Minas Tirith, I expect he just goes for a walk + looks at the sky

mistake: What's the worst mistake your OC ever made? What led to them making it? Have they been able to fix it? How have they moved on?

I think I’ve pretty much answered all of this above, so skfjsjdh

monster: Is your OC monstrous in any way? Is there something that makes them monstrous? Are they aware of their own monstrosity? Do they accept it or reject it?

nah, he’s not ❤️‍🩹

nightmare: What does your OC have nightmares about? How do they deal with their nightmares? Do they tell people, or keep it to themself?

answered w midnight for the most part— I’ll just add that no, he wouldn’t really talk about his nightmares. that requires showing vulnerability lol. I think Théodred and Aragorn are the only two who could coax him into speaking about his nightmares/fears (he wouldn’t want to burden Faramir with such nonsense)

pain: What's the worst pain your OC has ever felt? Do they have a high pain tolerance?

answered sorta (yes he has a high pain tolerance) but worst pain? gonna go with three orc arrows to the chest

secret: What's one secret your OC never wants anyone to know about them?

HMMMM again I don’t think there are many secrets. I do think if Denethor found out he liked men it would be disastrous

skin: How comfortable is your OC in their skin? Do they grapple with anything that lives inside them—a beast, a curse, a failure, a monster? How do they face the smallest, weakest, most horrible version of themself? Are they able to acknowledge it at all?

hm. I think he’s generally at ease with himself, or at least content with Not Thinking About These Things. I think, had he directly survived the arrows, he would have to grapple with like. the idea that he did prove Aragorn’s fears about men correct (whether Aragorn would agree with him or not)

torture: Has your OC ever been tortured? Would your OC ever torture someone else?

Four Months Of Slow Mental Degradation Due To An Accursed Magical Artifact!!!!! 🎉🎉🎉

(no he wouldn’t torture anyone else)

wound: How does your OC handle being wounded? Are their wounds mostly physical? Mental? Emotional? What's the worst wound your OC has ever experienced?

hm. He would say mostly physical wounds. I’d argue a mix of both. he’ll accept as much care as he needs to stay on his feet and fighting. worst wound is definitely still arrows lol

#THANK UUUUUUUU THIS WAS SO FUN #I love character analysis sooooooooooo much snfjsjfjhd

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maccreadysbaby · 18 days ago

Text

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

I am in pain writing my boys like this

part thirty-two

❝ EFFORT ❞

MONDAY — JULY 30 — 5:02AM

AFTER AN EVENTFUL DAY OF NEVER COMING OUT OF BELLAMY’S ROOM, BENTLEY WOKE UP ON MONDAY MORNING LAYING BACK TO BACK WITH HIM.

And the first thing he thought about was Bruce.

He wanted to tell him. He wanted to tell him everything so bad — about the parties and the nightmares and the teachers and Tyler and Chloe and the (maybe?) Secret Keeper and his father. He wanted to just lay it all out at his feet so he didn’t have to deal with it alone anymore… but he couldn’t.

Because if he did, Bruce would come get them and take them home, and someone else would move into the dorm. He’d never see any of them again.

He had to show Bruce that he could do this no matter what kind of problems he had — he was thirteen, and he could deal with his issues by himself. He didn’t always need his dad or his brothers to swoop in and do it for him; he was capable. More than capable.

So for now, he decided, not a Wayne in the world would know a thing. Would it be easier on him if they did? Sure. But getting whisked home to live a life of solitude while every other teenager in the world did whatever they wanted didn’t sound like an ideal situation. Plus, he was pretty sure he’d have lost his mind if he didn’t stop homeschooling when he did.

It was okay. He was okay. Everyone was okay. Everything was okay.

He’d just focus on school — it was a good enough distraction. He did have seven classes to survive, and nine friendships to maintain.

(Or eight, if… Asten didn’t want to talk to him.)

So he decided that’s what he was gonna do. Just be a teenager, and try his best to forget about all the existential dread stuff.

He woke up, blocked the number his father had called him from, and left Bellamy’s room to go get ready.

It was only a little after five, so he was able to get into his room and do everything he needed without waking Asten up, which was nice — because he wasn’t sure where they stood. They hadn't talked at all since the fight, but Bentley did end up in bed arrest in Bellamy's room, so he guessed it wasn't really either of their faults.

He grabbed his bag and all of his things out of his room and left, shutting the door softly behind him. Should he go back in Bellamy's room? Or just sit and the dining table and do something silent?

That moment was about when his phone vibrated in his hand.

The name on the text message was Chloe Singh. (He'd changed it almost immediately after she gave it to him.) It said: Hey, meet me at the fountain at 530?

He didn't even have time to think about replying before a second one came: Or at breakfast, if you're not a psycho that wakes up at 430 for school like me.

Bentley hummed to himself, typing a quick response.

Just text me when you're ready. I'm already dressed and all.

He hardly had time to look away before another message blipped onto the screen. Oh, okay! I'm ready then, haha.

With a faint little smile and a shrug, Bentley made sure he slid his keycard into his phone case and made for the door, leaving the dorm with his schoolbag in the dark.

When he made it down the stairs and the several sidewalks it took to get to the fountain with the willows, Chloe was already there in her uniform with her bag. Her blonde hair was tied up halfway with a black ribbon, and pin-straight so it looked extra long. She glanced back at him when she heard him approach and sent him a friendly wave, which he returned.

Were they technically friends now? How many times did you have to cry in front of someone before you became friends?

With that on his mind, Bentley made for the bench she was on, dropping his bag near his feet and taking a seat next to her.

"Good morning," She said quietly, eyes focused on campus staff that seemed to be moving something into the art building across the way, past the willow trees.

"Good morning," He replied.

"Listen, I just... wanted to apologize for Saturday night," She sighed, looking down at her lap and deflating slightly, a stark comparison to how confident she looked in class or the halls. "I had a massive breakdown and it was really weird. I word vomited so many unnecessary details."

Bentley shook his head, glancing over at her. "Don't apologize. We all have our moments. I, in particular, have had at least thirty since I moved into Redwood."

Chloe glanced at him, furrowing her brow. "I never imagined Bruce Wayne's heir would have moments."

"I wasn't always his," Bentley shrugged, forcing his father's voice out of his mind, focusing on Chloe's brown eyes that were watching him. "Anyways, it's no problem. Breakdowns suck, but they suck even worse if you're alone."

She blinked and looked away, then back. "That's why I wanted to say thank you," She continued, glancing down at her hands, fiddling with her fingers. "For being there for me. I... can honestly say I don't have anyone else, as pitiful and attention seeking as that sounds. Living a double life is really hard when everyone only knows the fake part."

Bentley watched her breathe in deep, then blow it out. "Anyways, not to get all pitiful. I think I have the rumors handled on my end... my roommates were the only ones who knew I was going to meet you, and they swore they wouldn't say anything. What about yours?"

"Only two know I was gone, and they won't say anything," Bentley shrugged. "I think we're safe."

A beat passed.

"Thank God," Chloe exhaled, brushing her long blonde hair over her shoulder. "I'd never forgive myself if a chimp like Tyler Abbott got ahold of information like that. He'd have the entire campus believing whatever he wanted about us in, like, ten seconds."

Bentley didn't reply.

"Hey, you okay?" She continued, lowering her volume just a little. "You seem preoccupied."

Bentley shook his head in an attempt to shake himself back into the present and out of whatever routine of self loathing his mind was trying to put him in. "Yeah, just pretty drained. I've been really stressed lately."

"I'm sorry..." Chloe mumbled, and Bentley shrugged.

"It's not your fault," He continued, waving her off. "What about you? Were you okay after the other night?"

Chloe shrugged. "Same... just kinda drained. Emotions and their stupid, stupid existence have a way of doing that. But I'm feeling okay now. Practice for cheer tryouts starts after school today, so I pretty much am required to be okay."

A beat passed.

"So... did you and Layla end up having fun at the dance?" She questioned, looking across the way at the willows, a little hint of something he couldn't quite place filtering through into her words.

Bentley shrugged. "It was okay, but I... didn't go with her. I went with my roommates. To see the band that was playing."

"Oh," Chloe nodded to herself.

Another few moments of quiet passed.

"I... wanted to ask you something," Chloe started, turning to face him slightly on the bench, getting this... he wasn't sure. Embarrassed sort of look on her face. "You can totally say no if you want to; I know I'm not the easiest person to stomach."

"What is it?" Bentley questioned, turning toward her a little, too.

Chloe breathed in and out. "I know I was really mean and weird and stuff when we met, and I don't have any clever excuses to talk myself out of that. But I still... wanna be friends with you, if you want."

Bentley watched her nervously tuck a piece of hair behind her left her, her brown eyes straying down to the bench they were on.

"Yeah... I'd like that," Bentley replied, watching her anxiously pick at her nails. "But you... I don't want it to be some kind of ploy for your mom. If we're gonna be friends, I just... want to be friends. Not for anybody else."

"A hundred percent," Chloe nodded. "She won't have a clue I'm even talking to you anymore. She seems to have moved on in her searching for my perfect future divorce since I blew it with you already. Which means we're in the clear."

Bentley hummed in acknowledgment, glancing at her for a moment more before looking out at the trees again. "Can I ask an awkward question?"

"Sure," Chloe shrugged. "Can't be more awkward than me word vomiting my entire life's story, and my mothers."

Bentley found it in himself to chuckle at that. "I was just... wondering. Since you were only kinda acting, did you... mean what you told me? In class?"

Chloe glanced over at him quickly, her brow furrowed, before she seemed to realize what he meant. Her face flushed pink and she looked the other way. "That you're hot? I-I mean, yeah, I guess..."

Bentley didn't say anything.

"God, why can't I talk to you?" She mumbled, resting her elbows on her knees and dropping her head into her hands with a nervous little laugh. "It's so weird. Being, like, real. I always know what to say when I'm pretending."

Bentley shrugged. "Maybe you should... not pretend."

"I can't do that!" She said suddenly, sitting up. "My mother would disown me if I even thought about acting contrary to how she wants."

Bentley hummed. "How does she know what you act like here at school?"

Chloe looked up at him, a cringe spreading across her face. "She's the assistant Dean. She lives on campus."

Bentley blinked. "Oh..."

"Yeah..." Chloe shook her head. "I literally can't get away from her and her prying eyes through the school-day. That's why I wanted to talk to you now, before the day starts."

Bentley couldn't even imagine his father watching him like a hawk like that. When he first went to the Wayne's to, quote-on-quote, destroy them, he could hardly fathom the anxiety caused by the fact that his father may have possibly been watching. But Chloe's mom, putting her up to something out of greed, punishing her when she failed, watching her to make sure she was perfect... maybe they weren't so different after all.

Bentley didn’t say anything for a few minutes.

“So, are you liking it so far, here? I’ve heard Gotham is way different from New York,” She questioned. (How many times was he going to be asked that question?)

He shrugged. “New York is really cool. I like it here. It feels more… alive.”

Chloe nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “There’s so much that goes on, it's hard to get away from it all. That's why I like it so much here.”

Another beat passed.

“So, if it's not off limits, what are your powers?” Bentley questioned, glancing over at her. “I haven’t seen or heard anything about them.”

“Oh, I…” Chloe started, looking off at the trees ahead of them. “I… uh…”

Bentley could recognize discomfort when he saw it. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, I just…” She trailed off, breathing deep and holding it for a second, then exhaling. “I don’t have any.”

Bentley furrowed his brow. Wasn’t Redwood only for metahumans?

“My sisters do, and I have the genes for it, I just… they… haven’t appeared yet. My mom says that sometimes it takes a lot to make them show up,” Chloe shrugged.

Bentley vaguely remembered hearing something about that when he was dealing with the whole Dr. Keene disaster -- it was like how Nico’s super speed only started to show up after he learned he was adopted, and only really showed up after he got kidnapped and put in a big machine that messed with his DNA. He remembered that metahumans finding their powers was… usually due to trauma.

He wasn’t quite sure what that said about the rest of the Redwood students. But maybe it was a good thing that Chloe didn’t have hers.

“I guess we’ll just have to see, then,” Bentley shrugged.

“I guess so…”

They fell into a comfortable silence, looking out at the willow trees in front of them.

Okay.. maybe Bentley had ten friendships to maintain.

When breakfast came around, Bentley sat across the table from Asten.

They didn’t say anything to each other. Bentley looked over at him a few times, but he was always talking to Rockie, or looking down at the table, or across the room. Valor was watching the both of them -- Bentley noticed his gaze a few times, calculating, contemplating -- but when Bentley’s eyes met his, it always switched to a supportive smile, faint enough to go missed by everyone else but present enough to be a little comforting.

Bentley and Asten didn’t talk at lunch, either.

And when music theory came around, Asten only spoke to Rockie, and Bentley only spoke to Vera, and in free period, Asten sat with Rockie, and Bellamy and Valor sat with Bentley. It was…

Weird.

He went to practice soccer with Varian and Koa, and they talked about nothing and everything. He went to dinner, where Asten deliberately ignored him even though they were within whispering distance from one another. And then he did his homework at the dining table, and listened to his roommates talk, and hung out, and texted Chloe, and went to bed without saying anything to his best friend who was sleeping one bunk away.

As wrong as it felt, Bentley was the one who’d been right. Asten was a hypocrite and all the lovely things Bentley had said in his anger fueled haze. So, for this one time, for the first time in his life, he wasn’t going to allow himself to apologize.

If Asten wanted to talk to him, Asten was going to have to put in the effort.

And as far as Bentley could tell, right now, he didn’t care very much.

tag list that never works lmao

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy

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xxbritishrosexx · 2 months ago

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Tmnt new dad headcanons

Before I delve into these headcanons, I want to point out a few things:

1. Turtles will be adult ages in these hcs

2. There was no specific iteration when I was thinking about these so it should fit whatever iteration you like

3. The shipping on these will be vague, so it fits every ship you like, let it be oc x canon or self-insert etc. I don't judge (I might call the boy's SO as either partner or SO depending on the situation and use they/them pronouns on them)

4. This will be my first time talking about my hcs out loud out of the server I'm in (I honestly am grateful for my friend @donatellowithabookinhishand9000 she bounced these hcs with me while chatting and pushed me to post them here, I'm super shy about these 👉👈)

5. Feel free to tell me your hcs! I love to hear other people's hcs, whether it is about this or in general

6. And most importantly, be nice.

Now that those are out of the way, let's begin:

Leonardo

He as the first time dad would be the one with stiff shoulders as soon as he gets to hold the baby, all stressed out not to drop them and staying still like a statue, someone would even try to move him to sit down on a chair but he isn't listening as his eyes are on that bundle of joy and the rest of the world disappears around him so it would only be just the two of them with his little child.

He would look like he isn't breathing but when he stares at his first born, he starts to cry happy tears, that's his son/daughter right there in his arms and won't let them have any pain as long as he breathes air, he would make sure of it. He wouldn't even care if someone saw him crying, that moment is going to one of those moments he would always remember.

And be aware if anyone tries to take the baby away from him, he would give them a death glare till they back up to a safe distance, baring his teeth like almost wanting to bite the person. He would not give the baby to anyone other than his own partner, otherwise he would hold the baby close to his plastron, letting out soft churrs and rumbles to keep the baby calm and focus on them again.

Donatello

When he holds his first born the first time, he treats them with silk gloves, slowly backing up to sit down the most comfiest chair and hold the baby close. He could lean down and nuzzle them and let out soft chirps and churrs like secrets that only his baby and him share together.

He would sit on that chair for hours, nuzzling the baby and cooing like proud dad he is and giving them all his attention. He would let the baby hold one of his fingers while smiling sweetly at them, he is dad now and he will make sure the baby is safe and healthy, no matter what happens.

Just like Leo, he would be protective of his child but won't bite at first, just letting out warning snarl but will snap out of it when his SO is there beside him and his bad mood will disappear and he would focus on them and their own baby.

If Don gave the bundle of joy to his partner, he could stare at them for hours on end, like an interesting science document, he would have the softest look on his face, love struck look on his eyes and take in every single moment like it would be the first time to see them together. He would even take so many pictures for himself to look back. His lab would be full of the pictures, on his table he would keep few framed and everywhere else he could put them just to see them daily, just to remind himself what he is doing the inventions for and why.

Raphael

When he gets to hold his first born baby, the tough guy look melts from his face. He would stay close to his SO, the baby in his arms against his plastron tucked securely and lean to nuzzle his partner. He would rumble from deep from his throat while keeping his family close. If anyone tried to take the baby away he would growl and bare his teeth, the tough guy facade coming back to his face, he could bite and will bite hard.

But when he feels the baby wiggle against him, he would calm down and lean to nuzzle them with loving eyes. He would calm the baby down while wrapping the other arm around his partner, just to keep them there. If someone asks him did he shed a tear in that moment he would deny it but in reality his mask would tell another story as the fabric would be moist from his happy tears.

He would be the one to keep the baby close, wrapped tightly against his plastron so they won't fall (using those baby carrier things what Don would have designed) and just let the baby know that they are safe, whatever happens they would have their dad back them up. He would let his partner rest while taking all the duties he could, he would be the one waking up at nights when the baby cries so his partner could rest, he would stay up for hours just so he knows the kiddo would be satisfied in his care. He doesn't want his partner to exhaust themselves when he can step up and do most of it himself.

He would be the dad who talks to their baby like they're having the most interesting conversation and the kid would respond back at them. And he would sigh if he notices someone recording or taking pictures of the happenings just because he could look silly towards the others but he doesn't really care, he has priorities and then priority is the child. He would not admit it but he loves to talk with his son/daughter like they have the most interesting conversation in the world.

He could be making an excuse of "What? It's good for them! Donnie, back me up!" and his brother has to quickly put his own phone away from recording to quickly go "Well uh... yeah I guess I did say that..." Don would try to be a sneaky one to record his brother while the baby coos like no tomorrow and Raph turns his attention back at them like "sorry Bub, where were ya again before daddy talked to uncle Don?”

He would be the one wrapped around his kid's finger like a servant. Whatever they want they will get it, he would pamper his partner and his baby like they are the most precious things in his world. If possible he would even make sure the baby gets a good amount of basking time with him (if the baby needs it) while rumbling to his baby while they coo back, they would have their own language that they would use while other people surrounded them.

He would let the kid draw/paint on his shell or plastron when the kid is old enough for that, treasuring those scribbles that his kid gave to him like throphies as long as they stay on him. He would even help the kid make a handprint on him with paint right where his heart is or if the kid is being cheeky and paint their dad's face with the paint while giggling, the dad wouldn't mind tho as long as his kid is happy he is happy too. He would be the dad to get his kids handprint when they were a kid tattooed on him or craft himself a necklace where his kid's handprint and foot print would be carved and treasure it.

Michaelangelo

Oh Mikey... When he gets to hold his first born baby the first time he is lovestruck, immediately he will coo at them like the baby would understand him while they babble back. He would hear people around him telling him to be careful with the baby but he knows how to handle something fragile, he is a cat dad already so he knows the tricks! If he wears hoodies he would place the baby in there, holding them close between the fabric and his plastron while sitting on the couch (leaning the way so the baby would be against him while his hands are busy holding something else) while watching movies or reading something out loud (comics) to his kiddo, he would make sure the baby gets cultured at young age.

He would teach his kid the videogames when they are old enough, making sure they start with easiest games first (he would search those kids first teaching videogames just so he and kiddo would play together) and watch kids cartoons with them while laying down on the couch, keeping the kid on his chest and blanket on them. He would let out soft rumbles when he feels his kid is getting sleepy to encourage them to sleep

Mikey would be a full "gamer" nerd dad who makes sure the kid is cultured on that side, having them choose starter Pokemon or anything like that, heck he would even let his kid help him make avatars on his videogames "oh you like that hat? Got it, how about these shoes, no? Okay let's look at some more choices”

He's absolutely the dad who lets his kid dictacte how the game is gonna go if their playing a multi-player. Maybe when their too little to play, he's got the kid a controller with no batteries/plug so they can feel like their 'helping' and he's going "Thanks kiddo! Keep it up!" cheering them on, while handling the rest.

And when his kid would learn first words he would be smug about it, even Don would be jelly about it while the purple turtle had taught his kids longer than his brother but with different style, Mikey even would claim his kid to be the smartest of the kids, making all his brothers groan at the same time to his shenanigans.

-----

And there ya have it! Some are longer than others but hey I'm always up for new hcs about the boys being dads! And these are just a start, maybe someday I would write more of this kind of stuff? If anyone's interested that is.

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt headcanons #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt leonardo #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt hcs #britishrose rambles #I hope I made justice for these guys let me know what ya think!

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im-ovulating · 5 months ago

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I'm thinking about your childhood imaginary friend that never left. Just faded into the recesses of your mind, forced to watch time after time as you got your heart broke. He uses your past lovers as a catalyst for his new, improved - grown - look; molding himself into your ideal man. Now, the only thing left is to make you his...

(I tried writing in 1st POV. This is only my 2nd time writing it, so be kind🙏)

(Kaito is one of my OCs <- for context.

I've been by Y/n's side for as long as I can remember. From the moment she first imagined me into existence at the tender age of 5, I've been her constant companion, her confidant, her best friend. I've watched her grow and change over the years, blossoming from a shy, timid child into a confident young woman. And through it all, my feelings for her have only solidified.

The problem? She forgot all about me as she grew up. The vibrant, imaginative girl who used to spend hours talking and playing with me disappeared, replaced by a practical, pragmatic young woman who no longer had room in her life for the fantastical. But I never left. I remained, tucked away in the deepest recesses of her mind, waiting and watching, my love for her burning as bright as ever.

Tonight, as she drifts off to sleep, I seize my chance. Reaching out from the depths of her subconscious, I begin to weave an intricate web of dreamscape around her. Slowly, subtly, I manipulate the threads of her unconscious mind, shaping and molding the landscape of her dreams until it becomes my own domain.

As she slips further into slumber, my pull grows stronger, more insistent, until she is transported to a world that is both familiar and utterly foreign. The once comforting confines of her bedroom have melted away, replaced by a surreal landscape of twisting shadows and distorted shapes. The air feels thick and heavy, laced with the scent of something both alluring and unsettling. And there, emerging from the darkness, is myself - no longer the childlike figment of imagination she once knew, but a fully realized entity - imbued with a dangerous, primal power.

There is no escape, not for her. Not anymore.

I reach out to her then, my voice caressing her mind like a lover's caress. "Welcome home, my darling," I murmur, my eyes glowing with unholy intent. "You're finally where you belong - by my side, forever."

She glances around at the swirling landscape with an undisguised terror. "W-what is this place? W-who are you?" She backs up slowly.

I watch as her eyes widen with a mix of confusion and fear. I can practically feel the tension radiating off of her.

"This place?" I murmur, my voice low and silky. "Why, this is our world, Y/n. Our sanctuary, where no one can ever tear us apart." I step closer, my gaze burning into hers. "And as for who I am..." My lips curl into a possessive smile. "I am Kaito. Your...dearest friend."

Reaching out, I gently brush the backs of my fingers against the soft skin of her cheek, my touch feather-light yet tinged with a dangerous edge. "I've been here all along, waiting for you to return to me." My eyes narrow, an intense, almost feral hunger flickering within their amber depths. "You belong here, with me. Always."

My eyes narrow as I watch she continues to back away, a possessive edge creeping into my voice. "Don't you recognize me, my love? It's me - Kaito." I take a step closer, my gaze burning into hers. "Your childhood friend. The one you loved and cherished for so many years." My lips curve into a dark, predatory smile. "The one you forgot all about as you grew up and left me behind."

Reaching out, I grasp her wrists firmly, pulling her towards me until our bodies are nearly flush. "But I never forgot about you, my love. I've been here, waiting all this time, watching over you. Longing for the day when you would be mine, and mine alone."

I tilt her chin up, forcing her to meet my intense gaze. "This is our world now, Y/n. A place where no one can ever tear us apart. Where it's just you...and me. Forever..."

#still dont know how to tag oc fics😭#x reader #yandere x reader #supernatural x reader #<- not the show; the character and situation is supernatural #monster x reader #<- bc hes not technically human(?)#idk man #im just trying to tag all the bases

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littlejuicebox · 9 months ago

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Midwinter Carol 8 / The Scheme

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x Female Elf Sorceress OC

Word Count: 2.4K

Story navigation: [1][2][3][4] [5] [6] [7]

Summary/Setting: Based on the prologue/premise from my OneShot “A Midwinter Carol.” / Astarion and the OC broke up after his ascension. She left Baldur’s Gate for fifteen years, only to return just recently. Following the events of “A Midwinter Carol,” Ascended Astarion has been convinced to pursue a new beginning. Will he be able to change who he has become, with the help of his ex-lover or will he ultimately fall victim to himself?

Preview:

“You’re far too comfortable within our arrangement, darling. Now, simply stand there and look pretty. It’s what you’re best at,” Astarion had finally drawled after a long silence between the two of them, feigning nonchalance at her comment while the white-knuckled grip on his goblet told another story.

Warnings: This will be 18+ / in game spoilers / Eventual Smut / Angst, trauma, fluff / Gore / Violence / PTSD / Astarion’s past trauma

A/N: Took two weeks, but we finally got there! I am going to try to start posting my longfics on a more consistent schedule. Stay tuned for the schedule, once I've figured it out lol!

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Delilah loathed people in power. She hated the moneyed patrons looking down their noses at her, always with an air of disgust. The wealthy acted as if they were doing her a favor; as if they weren’t the ones begging for her skills.

The elite she entertained in the brothels might have different kinks, different preferences, and different fantasies that she danced around… but one rule applied to every entitled, powerful individual that purchased her time: they loved to hear themselves talk.

It was quite comical how much her clients would share when they perceived her as an idiot. They often thought her beneath them; nothing more than a glorified decoration, a plaything. An empty vessel to spill their seed into.

But Delilah was far more cunning than she looked. She wouldn’t have been a whore, if only her circumstances had been different. Her aspirations had always been higher than sex work, and despite loathing people in power, she knew one of them would eventually be her meal ticket out of her situation.

She was too smart to be a whore and yet too desperate to shy away from any opportunity that came knocking upon her brothel door.

So when Astarion first spoke to her in Elvish, insulting her in the process, Delilah knew to stay silent. From almost the beginning, she intended to play the long game with the vampire and figured it best to appear ignorant.

She assumed his goading to be a test. She felt the silver-haired elf wanted to know if she understood his native tongue, though she didn’t quite understand why at the time. So instead of giving any indication she knew Astarion had just called her a filthy whore, Delilah simply smiled and purred a superficial compliment; it was something about how sexy he sounded speaking Elvish.

He bought it.

After that initial test from Astarion, he would often speak in Elvish when she morphed into Eirianwen’s shape. Most strings of his mother tongue were simply sweet nothings and lamentations he clearly would have preferred to say to the real woman, not the one he paid to portray her. It was tedious to endure the Ascendant as he relentlessly plunged in and out of her body, speaking sappy nonsense as she performed exactly the way he expected her to.

He always took forever to finish.

The ordeal was ridiculous, really. But her suffering proved worthwhile, for a time. It bought her connections to other elites, a new apartment, and — perhaps most valuable of all — pieces of information.

Over the years, Delilah collected many useful bits of knowledge from Astarion. The bastard loved to hear himself talk, in and out of bed, just like all the others. She sold some of the lesser information to his enemies and kept the most significant pieces stored within her mind.

Delilah knew he held the secret to true power – it was etched upon his back — and she wanted it for herself. She spent years assembling pieces of the puzzle and carefully unlocking the vaults of his psyche for that one purpose. It was no easy task.

But those years passed, and Delilah grew more impatient with the passing of each season. Astarion was dramatic, self-obsessed, privileged, and almost always held an air of missing that stupid sorceress. Constantly soothing his ego became a full time job, and Delilah began to think she loathed him more than she loved his money and connections to power.

Eventually, she thought she would simply convince Astarion to make her a true vampire, cut her losses, and just take those powers as a consolation prize. Her time enduring the Vampire Lord had been more than enough, and she was ready for it to end. She felt she understood why the real Eirianwen left him; if she’d had the means, Delilah would have been gone long ago, too.

But not everyone is a trust fund baby.

So, one evening, at another party almost identical in theme and guest list to the soirée they’d attended the week prior, Delilah broached the subject of immortality with Astarion. Her frustration quickly rose to the forefront when the Vampire Lord denied her far too quickly, as if he’d considered the option long ago and decided against it.

“Why not?” she’d pressed, her arm wrapped around his, simply playing the all-too-familiar part of a decoration at his side as they walked about the great hall of some noble’s mansion.

But, even as she asked, Delilah knew the reason: she was a glorified shell in his eyes; nothing more than a novelty item. She was hardly permitted to be in her own chosen form for these parties, or in general, after all. Astarion never wanted to see her as her. He always made her rotate her appearance as his date, instead. She was never supposed to be Eirianwen in public, of course, because imagine the scandal; but she was always some beautiful being.

Just not herself.

Among the many strange aspects of the egotistical man she’d tied herself to for years, Delilah found it odd that Astarion seemed to prefer the appearance of rakishness without actually being a rake. Though she suspected he liked the idea of appearing unattached, should the real Eirianwen ever flit back into his life. Idiot.

“I am not currently paying you to speak, Delilah,” Astarion had warned in a low hiss, his jaw tensed as he’d refused to look at the woman holding onto his arm.

She was in the form of some gorgeous, pouty-lipped, large chested brunette she’d seen while working in Waterdeep years ago. Astarion always seemed to prefer silver-haired dates, so Delilah intentionally gave him anything else when she was particularly irritated with the bastard.

“It’s been half a decade… she isn’t coming back, you know,” Delilah had snapped in response, unable to hold back her frustration after tempering herself for ages.

Five years had been far too long.

She’d been attached to this vile man longer than his precious sorceress ever had been and still played second fiddle to a memory. The thought made her insides boil with rage.

Not that she loved Astarion. Absolutely not. But she felt he still owed her something after all this time. Because truly, he was dreadful, and he would have done nothing of note with all that money and power if she hadn’t pushed him in the right direction. Hells, he couldn’t even sleep properly when they first met, let alone play political dragonchess with dignitaries and crime bosses.

No, the majority of that had been her doing. But of course, in his pride, the Vampire Lord was certain it had been him all along.

But the shapeshifter knew her value was severely underestimated. She was more than a common whore, more than an attractive escort, more than just a shell of someone else’s form. And after years of catering to Astarion’s massive ego, one would think her other talents would be of value to the Ascendant – at least enough to consider turning her.

Apparently not.

Ultimately, Astarion kept refusing Delilah’s requests for immortality. Eventually, the shapeshifter decided she’d had enough; she would have to find another route to power.

She’d wasted too much time already.

When Delilah first planned to break into the Palace, she knew entering through the dungeon would be most convenient. Waltzing in right through the front door, while potentially possible in Astarion’s form, would attract far too much attention. The servants swarmed him the moment he entered any room. Plus, she suspected her target happened to be in the bowels of the Palace, away from prying eyes – the dungeon would be faster, too.

It would be a quick job – get in, get out, get back to her new boss, get turned.

She knew the secret entryway into the dungeon was enchanted and required a password spoken in Astarion’s voice. At first, this had been a significant dilemma. Delilah’s shape shifting was flawless, and yet she always failed to adequately reproduce voices. However, thanks to his unwilling donation of DNA at the auction, the woman successfully brewed a potion that perfectly captured Astarion’s haughty tenor.

One utterance of “aeterna amantes” later and she found herself in the frigid cobblestone dungeon underneath her ex-lover’s abode.

She could not help but feel pride for her multiple talents at this moment. If Delilah had been able to afford tuition at Blackstaff thirty years ago, her life would be inconceivably different. Self-study and natural talents could only get her so far, unfortunately.

Locating the Jathiman Dagger – or “The God Killer,” as it had been called in the texts she read on the subject – had been effortless in comparison to her first trial. The ancient blade was rippling with arcane magic, and Delilah simply reached out to the Weave for guidance. Like a compass, the Weave led her straight to the second hidden passageway in the dungeon, this one much less guarded than the first. And there, behind an illusory wall, was the ticket to her future in the form of a well-worn, rusted dagger.

In truth, the woman thought the weapon that could kill anything from a god to a devil – and certainly a mere Vampire Ascendant, by that logic – would be far grander in appearance than just a simple serrated blade with a leather-wrapped hilt. At first, Delilah worried it was a decoy. But the arcane thrum when she touched the weapon was undeniable; all that was left on her end of the deal was to get back to Lady Lysandra and deliver the dagger. She could leave Edmund to rot if she wanted, Lysandra had indicated him to be disposable in their scheming.

But standing on the precipice of her future, and try as she might, Delilah couldn’t bring herself to take the final jump and leave the stupid spawn. Not after the time they spent together the past few months. He’d been, over all, a gentleman. And when she finally propositioned him after weeks, he’d never asked her to change into any other form, despite knowing she could… that had been a first for her.

‘Leave him, leave him, leave him,’ she thought as she made her way toward the secret tunnel leading out of the cobblestoned torture chamber.

And yet, against her better judgment and with half of her mind screaming in disbelief, Delilah stopped just before reaching freedom, tucked the dagger into her robes and began to climb the cobblestone steps of the dungeon. She willingly walked straight into the lion’s den.

Finding Astarion and Edmund had been simple; she only had to follow the pained grunts of the vampire spawn and the deranged shouting of her ex-lover. But as she walked in that direction, under cover of a simple invisibility spell, Delilah passed the master bedchambers where she’d laid under Astarion more times than she could count. Out of habit, she glanced into the room and spotted Eirianwen sound asleep, instead of writhing in pain like she should be with Delilah’s poisons working inside her body.

And gods that enraged Delilah. She wanted Astarion to suffer in the worst way, to watch the only person he ever seemed to love be tortured beyond belief, lose motor function, and eventually die after a long, chronic battle with the side effects of Delilah’s concoction.

He deserved it, and by extension, Eirianwen did, too. She made him what he was, after all.

But how was this possible?

The knowledge-seeker in the shapeshifting woman decided to take a quick detour, temporarily ignoring the tortured cries from Edmund in the next room. He was strong, surely he could endure for a mere moment longer as she examined the sorceress, she thought.

After a quick study of Eirianwen, Delilah notices the ring on the sorceress’s blackening hand and realizes it's the flimsy golden band that’s protecting the woman. She remembers the auctioneer toting the magical abilities of the rings Astarion ultimately paid far too much for.

But Delilah doesn’t dare touch Eirianwen to try and remove the ring. The newest potion coursing through the elven woman’s system had been a rush job; Delilah was not certain how potent the paralytic was or if it would transfer to her, another living being, via touch. It’s why she’d had Edmund carry the bottle around at the party, just in case there had been a mishap; her necrotic concoctions were much less potent on the undead, but on the living they were always particularly nasty.

A flurry of curses on the other side of the wall, followed by more vitriol from the Vampire Lord, all coming from the space next door she knows to be Astarion’s office, finally rips Delilah from her thoughts and pushes her forward. She doesn’t have a plan. She really did not expect herself to risk her neck for this random spawn.

Delilah morphs into Eirianwen’s form, mangled hand and all, and slowly edges her way toward the office. At minimum, she can distract Astarion and hopefully Edmund can break away with a bit of her assistance. He’s certainly strong.

When Delilah turns around the corner, she quickly realizes, much to her dismay, that any hopes of saving Edmund are gone. Astarion is crushing the other vampire’s skull in with one hand and plunging something into the man’s chest repeatedly with the other. Splatters of blood are sprinkled about the office like stars in the night sky. The man she’d spent months scheming with, fucking, and for whom she’d idly considered killing his master for once she achieved her goal is lying limp and mangled underneath the Ascendant.

Edmund is gone. And the realization elicits a genuine, horrified scream from Delilah. In that moment she realizes that perhaps she actually cared for him… as much as someone like her could care about anyone. When Astarion’s eyes snap to her, Delilah forgets she’s in Eirianwen’s form and runs.

Before long, the woman recollects herself as the silver-haired elf shouts down the hallway, calling after his precious Ani. She turns to look at the Vampire Lord, her face filled with hatred, and misty steps as far as she can away from him, back toward the dungeon entrance on the lower floor. Delilah was supposed to leave the murder of Astarion Ancunin to Lady Lysandra… but she just decided that she changed her mind.

She was going to kill Astarion in his own home, and she was going to savor every delicious moment as he watched the woman he loved stab him to death.

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A/N: Special shoutout to a reader, @lil23akira for absolutely calling this! I love that you were able to pick up on all my foreshadowing. And thank you to @leomonae and @tallymonster for reading this and providing feedback as I worked through what was the most difficult chapter to write thus far.

#astarion fanfic #astarion x tav #baulders gate astarion #baulders gate 3 #astarion fic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic idea #baulders gate tav #astarion x oc #astarion x f!tav #astarion x female oc #astarion x female tav #astarion x original female character #midwinter carol #ascended astarion arc #ascended astarion #ascendedstar #ascended astarion fic

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plasticfangtastic · 1 year ago

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American Royalty ch. 5

A Homelander X F! Reader and Dadlander fic.

A/N: prev. chapters available in my pin post, if ya like to be added to my taglist feel free to drop a comment with a request. I wanted to post this tomorrow but yeah am a liar with ADHD UwU.

Tags: mild gore, angsts, lots of angst, slow burn, fluff, oc characther, child neglect, dadlander, romance... i guess i should also say unhealthy/toxic relationship.

Chapter five

Thick lines.

Ryan and Helena were exhausted, most of the obstacle course had been partially destroyed, the walls damaged quite severely, and the ceiling was dented, Homelander had learned two things: 1) Ryan holds back too much– too afraid to harm, too afraid to break things, too afraid of his own powers as if they would come right-back around and harm him, and 2) Helena’s forcefield could take a beating, it had taken Ryan quite a bit of rage for it to start cracking, the girl continued to taunt hi, calling him inept, throwing insults without care before it cracked down.

She had learned her limits, making notes for future reference.

So here he was putting pressure on her arm, as she bled profusely.

Ryan was crying blaming himself, while Homelander took her to the labs. The girl didn’t cry much, seemingly just angry, only wincing as her father squeezed her arm with curses in her lips.

You had run out of the kitchen, guards refusing you entry to the labs, while you demanded entry Homelander had emerged and ordered them to step aside, throwing daggers at them as he took your hand.

You cried as you saw the bandages on her arm, you cried harder when she wrapped her arms around you, bawling and shaking underneath them.

Homelander calmly explained that she ended up with twenty stitches and some blood transfusion, but she was fine, no bone had been touched and her body was healing slowly.

You barely listened.

When was the last time you saw her cry? She was a quiet baby, a perfect baby, by the time she could talk, crying seemed redundant when she could simply spell it out for you.

“What did you do!?” You picked your child, retreating from him– I fucking qu–

“It was my fault…” Ryan said drying his sobs– I’m sorry.”

“It was an accident. The kids got a little heated during training… I should’ve stepped in earlier.”

Homelander took Ryan under his arm.

You stared at the kid, then back at your own.

“Helena did you–” You stroke her back– Sorry that my daughter antagonized you… It won’t happen again.”

Your voice was quiet, unable to look at either child.

“Let’s go get your stuff. My apologies, Homelander but I won’t be able to continue my work today. She won’t be a cause of future concern…” You wanted to quit and leave this tower forever.

He lets you go, no doctor tried stopping you either, but you wouldn’t let your daughter stay at Vought, a nurse informed you to come back to change the bandages in two days but you rather take her to an actual hospital.

You looked at him knowing he was going to come around.

Coffee already on the stove and biscuits on the table already waiting for him.

“How is she?” He was genuine.

“She says it's too itchy… but her arm is alright.” you scratch at your head.

“You look tired.”

“I haven’t slept for almost a decade… that’s just my face now.”

“You didn’t quit.” He sat beside you on the big round-table, turning pale as you saw him sit on his cape, his eyes reddened as he tried to look calm– are you quitting?”

“I dunno. Helena can be pretty abrasive. I’m sorry your son fell for it, she doesn’t mean it… she just thinks that people are going to be cruel, so she’s cruel first.”

“Why?” He presses taking a quick glance at the livingroom and the misplaced toys.

“Try being in a classroom full of teenagers and be the smartest one in the whole room, they just see a smug midget who thinks she’s better than anybody else– they’re mean… kids in general are mean… but she eventually just scares them enough… there were other kids she’d hurt, nothing too severe.”

You stayed in silence not knowing if you should ask him to leave or not. If you should let him be privy of those events.

“She knows.”

“You!”

“She either figured it out or used her powers to find out.” He rested his elbow on the table stroking his tired eyes– I didn’t tell her but she would’ve noticed there was something going on.”

You yawned, taking a couple sips of coffee as he copied you. The silence unbearable and your eyes heavy and aching, gawking at him made you think of her.

“Your eyes and lips are identical.” That was an unusual smile on your face– when she was born that was the first thing I noticed, the second was that mop of hair on her head… she had so much hair and it was so long, but those were your eyes… sadly, you know I always thought your nose was your best feature but she got mine.”

You stood up asking him to follow you to the living room with a finger, taking a seat on the same sofa you refused to throw away.

“Tell me about her… Becca never had the chance… I cleaned that house and found pictures and trinkets, but without the stories I can only speculate. I don’t know his first words, the first time he walked, his first time riding a bike… I don’t know anything. She never wanted to tell me.” He leaned closer, his hand close to yours but never touching– Ryan is sorry, he was quite shaken.”

“Her first word was ‘morning’.” You spoke wanting to indulge, wanting to seem better for some reason.

You told him stories, there had been a time when you fantasized sharing all these moments with him, when you were younger and stupider. When you two began to get too serious, when he had called you baby, darling and honey with genuine affection, when you watched him sleep and caressed his hair awake. You’d dreamed of drinking wine while your kids slept by his side at one point and in this forced intimacy you could be as deluded as he was just in case he was holding something nefarious over your head.

You let him know about her silly things, about her first love… the chemistry set you bought her when she was five. About how she lived in their local library and everybody knew her by name, about how some of the kids expected her to become Brooklyn’s finest, about her hatred of pistachio and strong emotions about bird keeping.

You never expected to talk to him like this after everything, but today has been a rollercoaster and you simply hadn't been in you to fight, not now when your daughter knew, you were doing this to yourself so you couldn’t fight it, you gave him morsels and crumbs because you had no one to talk about this things.

“Is Ryan alright?” You asked leaning away from him, the night was so dark and only the kitchen in the back lit the house– it must’ve been so scary.”

“He was pretty shaken. Took me a lot to get him to stop crying…”

“Helena won’t hold any grudges… I think… I got an idea… has Ryan ever been to Coney Island? Maybe we can take the kids to the boardwalk, have hotdogs and hit the aquarium, Helena will not misbehave in there.” You put your empty cup on the coffee table– they can make up.”

He gave you a tired smile, knowing he had to head home soon but wanting to talk some more.

“Are you angry at her?” He asks weakly.

“She would’ve hurt Ryan. I figured out she was forcing him to attack when you said things got a little heated, that’s how she dealt with bullies in the past.” you looked him straight in the eyes– I am upset.”

He found a way to touch your hand, giving it a light squeeze.

“Don’t be… I think Ryan would like the aquarium, he’s never been.” He seemed ashamed of that statement.

“Remember when we used to sneak out to Central Park?” You said suddenly with a chirp in your voice.

“Those were long nights.” He dares give you a flirty look.

“No… those handful of times where we went during daytime… ditch the suit… more witnesses, more likely to behave.”

You tried ignoring those sharp fangs, he was so good looking still and it had been so fucking long since you got laid, being forced to remember him, to interact with him, to let him touch you… some people like to be used… Helena had said it best, and in this nice house he bought you, and the nice stuff he got you all around you, you remember what he was trying to get out of you, and that was to play a role.

At the doctor’s office, Helena cried a lot when the doctor took her stitches out, it had taken a day to heal but she was left with a gnarly scar.

“Phantasma” You sit next to her while she eats some ice cream, she really did not like getting the stitches out, the visit had reduced her to an actual little girl, even after her words were incoherent, skipping words as she cried all the way out to the ice cream shop, Helena’s skin was hard not like her fathers but it was near impossible to penetrate it with a needle, forced to proceed without real anesthesia– sounds better than ‘Ghost Girl’, no?”

She looked up.

“Sounds cool. Why?” she sniffed hard.

“Your father did ask about it…”

“Huh?”

“Honey. He told me you figured it out. How?”

She licked her ice cream cone, as you tucked her under your arm. Scooting her closer on the park bench.

“I used Elmo to break into his apartment. I turned us both invisible and I went up there.” You pulled on her ear– ouch!”

“Helena!”

“He’s been following us for weeks!” you let her go– I was curious as to what he was doing… I was suspicious of his intentions, found the paperwork in his office and played stupid for a couple days.” She handed you her slobbered cover ice cream– Is not appropriate for a grown man to be following little girls.”

“You shouldn’t use Elmo like that!”

“You aren’t mad I broke into his house?” She looked perplexed.

“Nah… I could have given you the passcode it's the first thing they gave me when I started work. Don’t involve the kid!” You took a bite– Jesus Helena! You being invisible is hard enough… I don’t want you ending up like Translucent! Guy was so mentally ill.”

“You knew translucent?” her ear perked up.

“He would walk around naked in the bathrooms– I’ll explain to you when you’re older, honey.” you handed the ice cream back, your lips tight under your teeth– I knew your father for three years… So I got to meet some of The Seven. Either way leave the kid alone and for all intents and purposes you never told me about the stalking…”

“You got something in mind?”

“We’re going to play his game. You’re his daughter… so that tower should be yours, no?”

“There’s my older brother to worry about, too.”

“He’s just a little boy, riding thru life with only nepotism as his anchor” You stroke her hair pushing her bangs away from her beautiful eyes– but he’s not you.” You leaned into her ear– you are my daughter.”

Her smile was sickly sweet.

Here you were waiting for him at the entrance of the boardwalk, when you felt a light touch on your shoulder.

He looked uncomfortable and maybe too dressed up for the occasion, you took the lapel of his suit jacket. It was the nicest fabric you’ve touched in your entire life, surprised to see his hair not as gel-up and his eyes hiding behind versace sunnies.

“Did you raid Kendall Roy’s closet? I swear I saw this jacket in season 3.”

“Is a good show.” he laughs looking painfully stiff, his eyes moving rapidly behind his lenses– and yes.”

“Wait, is this actually from the show?”

“I just said yes.”

Your mouth dropped slightly, but you did like the feel of the jacket.

“You’re more Shiv.”

“Not Logan I hope?”

You snorted in horror, your daughter pretended to be confused by his appearance trying not to look at Ryan, who looked like a deer in front of a hummer.

“Are you doing okay, little guy?” You asked, making sure to lift his hat playfully– Ever had a Nathan’s glizzy? Is an institution.”

The kid looked so shy.

“No, I never had one…” He was one bad word away from sobbing.

“Is okay. My arm is all good again” Helena's adult size hoodie had a big enough collar for her to pull down and reveal nothing but a scar– I am not mad at you. It was an accident… Besides, you can’t be a supe if you’re afraid of getting boo-boos.”

Ryan seemed more shaken than anything, but before he could do his best sad little orphan boy impression, Helena took his hand and dragged him forward, telling him that he needed to try Nathan’s before doing anything, rambling about how good they are, and that she couldn’t wait to see the Aquarium.

Both you and Homelander stood a few steps behind as your daughter gave the kid no time to rest.

“She’s always been this pushy?” He whispered into your ear.

“She just found out that’s her brother… She's a tad excited.”

“You had the talk? Without me!?” He looked upset, staring at his kids with a bit of bitterness.

“I was ambushed. I swear to god you need to figure out a weakness with her damn bubble.”

“What's the limit before she runs out of oxygen?” he asks.

“1 minute and 46 seconds is her personal best.” you whispered back.

“What did you tell Helena was happening today?” He wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you close.

“That it was a play-date, to try to mend the situation… after all she instigated it.” You leaned against him tugging on his jacket with a cheeky smile– not whatever you were thinking this was… now… get your hand off my ass, John.”

“I told you. I have a story to sell. Both kids are in the same school, now they can start being friends and she knows I’m her dad. Let’s just skip to the good part.”

“You want to pretend we are dating?” If your teeth could separate and let you talk with ease, you would bite his nose off before finishing your next sentence– Did you run that past your team? Sure I wouldn’t rank higher than Maeve or Starlight in the fake girlfriend department… I think even Taylor would rank better… she did make a great single out of you.”

He cringed at that comment.

“You’ll do great in the fake mother department– The team has concocted something extra juicy, a real page turner. Way above Hallmark channel christmas movies, we are talking award circuit instead.”

You both did that fake little laugh that sounded more like a growl as your kids turned around after spotting the white, green and yellow hot dog restaurant.

As Helena headed to the line, with Ryan in tow. You played your role, Helena would have what she deserves– if he wanted to force you and her into his life, you were going to wrap those chains so tight around his neck, he would forget he ever lived without it.

Your mouth met his for a brief moment, startling him enough that his hand left your hips, he was left stuck in place as you went after the kids.

The breeze tousled his hair, as you looked back at him with a saddened smile.

“I haven’t forgiven you… but I want to give you a second chance… I want to put all those things behind us… if you are going to be here for her– for us.” You whispered from afar out of your kids reach as Helena took your wallet, knowing full well he was listening attentively– I’ve missed you. Even if I don’t want to admit it.”

The seagulls squealed as he took his place beside you, wrapping his arm again around your waist just to kiss you yet again.

The moment Helena saw a fish tank it was game over. All her ‘Wednesday’ facade had melted as she became an over excited amateur marine biologist, giving his eldest no time of rest as she explained as many animals she could to the child, he had learned an awful lot about corals and kelp as they moved from exhibit to exhibit, admittedly Ryan was having fun, hanging out with other kids as school had been a bit difficult, his socialization skills were poor from years of isolation and homeschooling but this was nice.

Homelander could only see a kodak moment ruined by the myriad of The Deep billboards staring at him.

It was a bizarre game of stealth kisses happening behind the kids, he was starving for you, a desire he had put down in the cellar and today he found again, excited to play this game with you.

Wanting to feel your comfort, happy that you took his offer, now he only had to tell Ryan.

As you left for the bathroom he was left alone with the two kids, Ryan fixated on some animals and his mind elsewhere when Helena pulled at his sleeve.

“You look like you want to rip your skin off.”

“I don’t usually wear clothes like this?” he says politely– what about you? Why are you wearing that giant hoodie again? Don’t you own other stuff?”

It was big enough for an adult, her sleeves had been rolled up quite a bit and its length still touched her knees making her appear shorter than she already was, this had been the fifth time he had seen her in this fit, she wore black hoodies most of the times on top of her normal clothes– cheap thrifted clothes and hand-me downs somethign that irked the man; But this ridiculous hoodie seemed to be a favorite. The newest and nicest thing she owned was a pair of A-T Force 1, it pissed him off to watch her wear those shoes– why worship that fat slob when her father was the fucking Homelander! he thought.

“Is really nice… found it in an old box mother had with her while we were living in one of her cousin’s garage.” She stretched her arm urging the man to have a feel of the soft cotton fabric– She didn’t wanna throw it away ‘cuz she could sell it but I ended up wearing it a lot. I like it.”

The fabric was worn down but it was evidently of good quality, he spun the little girl around as he looked at the size tag, only to see the name of the brand… Brunello, his eyes widened as he noted that this hoodie easily cost over 1000 dollars, but as the girl glared at him a light sob escaped his lips as his eyes tingled– this had been his sweater.

Of the few items of clothes he had owned over the years, he knew this was his.

In those secret dates in central park and escapes to Paris and Seoul, where he was forced to hide who he was just so you two could hold hands without causing a scene, he had bought this, you liked it enough to steal it from him from time to time.

Homelander had become John Gillman for you, he had never needed a secret identity before he met you, not even mulling on the idea for long. He only had to be the Homelander, but he had become a mild-mannered executive named Mr. John Gillman, to be with you– forcing himself to wear strange clothes and mingle with lowborn folks, just to hold your hands and kiss you.

This stupid hoodie that he had ordered an intern to buy only to arrive a size too big, that had gone missing years prior, now stood here wrapping his daughter.

“How did you find out about me?” He asks with shaky lips.

“After you showed up at Lucci’s… thought it was weird that you showed up at my house not long before… I suspected you knew my mom, and after she told me that she worked at Vought. Well, I looked at her resume and did some math. I only really began to suspect it after you broke into my house” She raised her chin– you left the window open by two inches, not enough to matter but enough for me to notice as I always leave them close all the way… you left my hairbrush in the sink’s and not the trolley. Why would you touch my hairbrush? Wonder what you could get out of it…”

The little shit turned around to spot her brother still admiring the clover reef while they waited for you.

“I was taking a gamble when I called you a ‘deadbeat’, dad.”

Homelander's heart skipped a beat when her mouth uttered the word, unsure if she was mocking him or otherwise, from her it was hard to tell.

“You don’t want him to know about me, right?” Her voice was quiet, a knot buried itself in her throat.

“What? No!” He said in a panic, getting on one knee to see her eye-to-eye– Helena… I … I want us to be a family, Ryan will understand but I have to wait… he’s not like you or me… he’s… sweet.”

She looked away squishing her little fist, hiding her beautiful kyanite stones behind those long bangs, his hand lifted her hair, trying to peek further into those beautiful skies, feeling the creamy skin under his palm, her warmth as her cheeks turn a new shade of pink.

“You’re my daughter… my blood… I am sorry… I was… I was an asshole for what I did, but I just want to be there for you now… so If I can… you can call me ‘Dad’ if you like.”

His voice quivering as he spoke, she was frail, he could feel it under his touch, how easy it would be for him to hurt her.

Little girls were to be handled with much more care, dainty things they were, she was a peony blooming in his hands, so he had to be soft and strong for her. she rested her cheek against his hand, his so warm and soft, surprised at the way he looked at her-- there was a twinkle of desperation behind his gaze.

She rested until her eyes didn’t sting anymore.

As you left the bathroom, you spotted the curious scene, biting at your lips as your guilt finally catched up to you, you didn’t need it, you would not allow yourself to be harmed but as you saw your daughter play her role, you knew… she would be lost inside the character… She was a lonely child, deprived of you and without him ever in the picture... she had a weakness.

You let them mingle from afar as they walked around towards some river exhibition, while Ryan made his way towards the duo, their hands intertwined as he turned calling for his boy.

For a moment you saw a glimpse of the life you always wanted… Revenge was a nasty game… could you really play it? You wondered as you fixed your clothes.

Before you could say anything, your sight followed a faceless passerby.

A service dog in tow.

The passerby had simply bumped into Helena, the dog had been just close enough, you didn't worry immediately, she had gotten used to dogs and you were certain she had been good and taken her allergy meds.

You were sure.

Helena turned but it was too late.

With a single sneeze the gates had opened.

The walls rumbled, as the pale blue wave of sharp wavering light exploded out of her body.

Everybody swallowed a shared gasp, as the glass began to crack.

taglist: hope y'all like the chapter @fromforeigntofamiliarity @immyowndefender @demodemo909

#Homelander #Homelander x reader #Homelander x you #the boys oc #american royalty #personal #my fic tag #the boys fanfiction #homelander fanfic #homelander x F! Reader #I have so much energy right now and am riding the high.#barely proofread so sorry for any spellign errors

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b1ackbunny · 1 year ago

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LOVE LIES

CH. 06 | LUNCH DATE (?)

A Bada Lee smau-ish ff

pairing: bada lee x fem!dancer!oc (jia mei yu)

synopsis: bada lee wasn’t looking for love when it found her. jia mei yu couldn’t truly comprehend the feeling inside when she was with her, on and off the dancefloor. when these two dancers meet by chance, a bond is formed and uncharted territories are explored.

word count:

warnings: definitely au-like… no mentions of swf or smf, uhhh idk any more, bad writing, friendly violence, a little inaccurate, unedited

previous: chapter 5

next: chapter 7

taglist (open): @badasgirlfriend @tikitsune @lil-elliesgf @prilux @badagf @badaslali @avocifera

masterlist

a/n: #combackszn sorry for the long wait hope y'all enjoy their little date!! also sneaked in a set up for my tatter x laura fic i might make… I just feel like that would be too good to not happen 🫦 actually reading this chap while writing and I’m realizing that i may be forming a hyper golden retriever x calm golden retriever relationship i love this

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Jia sat in front of her vanity, reading the comments on her livestream as they rolled in. She decided since she had time while getting ready for lunch with Bada, she’d do a short livestream. “Hello everyone! It’s been a minute since I’ve done one of these. I’m just hopping on while I get ready.”

She explained to the viewers, applying sunscreen to her fingertips before rubbing it into her face. “To pass the time, why don't we do a Q&A? Ask your questions and I'll answer them to the best of my ability.”

She fanned her face before grabbing her primer. Removing the lid, Jia read aloud the first question she saw:

user124: what are you getting ready for?

She spattered the primer onto her face as she talked. “Just the day, really. So far I’ve only went to the gym, ate breakfast, and answered some emails. But, I am going to lunch with a friend so there's that.” Jia mentioned, keeping a casual expression as she rubbed the primer into her skin.

user243: you're always wearing platformed shoes in most of your posts… how tall are you?

“I didn't even realize that. I'm 171.45 centimeters to be exact, last time I checked.” The girl applied a thin level of foundation and hummed to herself.

user947: what are the next groups you want to work with?

Jia thought about the question, tapping her chin. “That's a tough question… probably txt, nmixx, or ateez. Oh, and seventeen!” She began to contour her face and glance between the phone and her reflection in the mirror.

user328: what's your favorite song at the moment?

Jia began to fill and shape her eyebrows as she thought back to the song she'd played the most for the past few weeks. She cringed a little at the two songs that instantly came to mind, knowing that the viewers might think too deeply about the lyrics.

“Sorrows by Bryson Tiller or All I Want Is You by Miguel.” Almost immediately, she saw the comments come in faster. Holding back an eye roll, Jia began to shut down any ideas that were being sent.

“There isn't a specific reason why these are my favorite songs right now. So don't read too much into it.” Jia added concealer and skimmed through the comments, searching for her next question.

user429: is it true you’re collaborating with bada lee???

Jia laughed a little at the comment as she blended the makeup. “No, that's not true. However, if you guys convince her then maybe there's a chance. I'll have to think about it.” Jia smiled as she received a lot of comments along the lines of ‘challenge accepted’.

She answered multiple questions as she finished up her makeup, adding lip gloss before tossing it into her purse. She stood up and leaned close to the camera, giving a close-lipped smile as she wiggled her fingers under her face.

“Alright, now I have to accessorize, do my hair, and put on perfume, then I should be done!” Jia summed up as she moved to the bathroom. She opened one of the cabinets and took out her brush.

She held her hair into a ponytail and looked down at her outfit. “Ponytail of half up half down, which one should I do?” Jia kept her eyes on the comments as she took out a hair tie and a few bobby pins. The majority of the comments she saw said ponytail, so she went with it.

She added a little details to it by adding a middle part and styling bobby pins on each side of the front. Jia let some stray strands frame her face and she looked down at the phone and put two thumbs up.

Moving back to her room, she sat back in front of her vanity and opened her jewelry box. She tapped her chin before choosing a combination of silver pieces. “Alright, two final questions everyone. Choose wisely.”

user156: when will your next class be?

“Monday at ygx. I'm going to be there basically all day so come up to me if you catch me!” Jia responded while dabbing her signature scent in its regular places.

user805: are you dating anyone?

Jia instantly shook her head with a straight face. “No, I'm not seeing anyone. But, Jackson Wang if you're watching this… call me.” Jia quickly turned the question into a joke, holding a phone hand sign up to her ear and raising her brows before blowing a kiss to the screen.

Almost immediately, she dipped out of the frame and began laughing. The girl tried to return to the screen but read a few comments that only made her laughter grow. She covered her mouth and tried to relax her face.

“Alright… thanks for tuning in! See you guys later!” Jia blew a kiss to the camera and waved goodbye as she ended the live. She wiped a fake tear off her face and fanned her eyes. “I'm the funniest person I know.”

She stood up and looked at her outfit in the mirror. It really represented her maximalist meets minimalist sense of style. Jia picked up her tote and added her essentials before sitting on her bed. Bada texted the details last night, and she already forwarded them to Ryujin.

Jia looked at the time on her phone and sighed, thinking back to why she got ready so early. It was now around 10:40 and the pair agreed to meet at the location by 12. Jia made her way out of her room and contemplated what she wanted to do to waste time.

She walked down the hall and knocked on her sister’s door four times before going inside. Laura didn't bother to look up from her laptop as Jia walked in and lay down on her bed.

Kija hopped down from Laura’s lap and moved to lay against Jia’s side. Jia pet the cat who nuzzled into her side and stared at the ceiling before dramatically sighing. Laura ignored the girl as she typed away at her keyboard, increasing the volume of her music in the background.

Jia glanced at her sister before letting out an even more dramatic sigh. Laura rolled her eyes before swiveling her chair toward the direction of her bed. “What?” Jia immediately sat up with a bright smile painted on her face.

“Oh, nothing. I'm just excited to hang out with Bada today. You know, in person. Outside the dance studio.” Jia said with a sigh, continuing to pet Kija as she looked into the distance.

Laura glared and shook her head. “That was definitely a jab at me and Suyin… Just because we’re long distance doesn’t mean you can attack us like this.” Laura jokingly shook her head and wiped away her fake tears. Jia rolled her eyes and launched the closest stuffed animal at her sister.

Laura ducked out of the way and shook her head disappointingly, tisking at her sister as she spun back toward her laptop. “Next time Suyin visits I'm telling her to beat you up.”

Jia rolled her eyes and crossed her legs before placing Kija on the floor. “My apologies… Anyways, back to my thing. I did some research on the place we’re meeting and it's supposed to have a pretty scenery.”

Laura spun back in Jia’s direction with a smile on her face. “That sounds perfect for your date!” “Not a date…” Jia immediately followed up, earning an eye roll from Laura.

“It basically is. Watch, I bet Ryujin will confirm that it was, in fact, a date after her spying.” Laura confidently declared before leaning back into her chair and kicking her legs up onto the corner of her desk.

Jia sighed and leaned to the side, propping her head on top of her palm. “I feel like if it is, I won't be upset at all. It's just I don't wanna get my hopes up.” Laura peeked at her sister and sighed.

“Understandable. Also, why are you in here right now?” Laura crossed her arms and squinted at her sister. “I wanted to spend some quality time with my little sister!” Jia enthusiastically said, sweetly smiling at her sister’s straight face.

“Bullshit. Let me guess, you started getting ready too early because you were so excited.” Laura plainly worded, clicking the enter key on her laptop. Jia bit her lip in guilt, earning a laugh from Laura.

“You want her so bad.” Laura brought down her legs and completely spun in her sister’s direction. Jia rolled her eyes at the statement and fully sat up. “Yadda, yadda.”

“More like ‘Bada, Bada’ is the only thing on your mind.” Laura joked with a wink and Jia almost instantly cringed. She launched another stuffed animal in the girl’s direction, causing the younger to weave away from said stuffed animal.

“That was so bad, you need to be silenced.” Laura dramatically scoffed at Jia’s claim, holding a hand to her heart while her jaw slacked. “So now you want to silence queer voices? I'm already starting the cancel Jia Mei Yu tag as we speak.” Jia rolled her eyes and stood up from the bed.

“That's why you're not getting any leftover food I might bring back.” Laura gasped and immediately moved to apologize but Jia hushed her actions as she walked out of the room.

Quickly grabbing her bag and phone from her room, she trekked down the stairs and into the living room. Jia lounged on the couch and watched youtube videos while she waited for the appropriate time to leave.

She wanted to get there about fifteen minutes early so she would be able to talk with Ryujin before Bada was supposed to show up. When it reached a reasonable time, Jia stood up and grabbed her things.

Saying her goodbyes to Laura and Kija, she grabbed her keys and walked out the door. Once she made it out of the complex, Jia walked to her regular parking space and got into her car. She shot a text to Ryujin, telling her that she was leaving her apartment.

After she received a response, Jia ignited the engine and embarked on the journey.

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After parking, she got out of her car and looked at the time. Bada would be there in approximately ten minutes and Jia started to frantically text Ryujin while walking into the building. Apparently, the lunch spot was located on one of the higher levels.

Once she reached the destination, she couldn't help but notice how pretty it was. It looked to be a mostly outdoor-themed lunch spot and Jia had no idea how she hadn't been there before.

It kind of resembled a really pretty park area, but in the sky where you could see the skyline. There was a sign to first sit at your desired table and then press a button when you're ready to order. Jia found that pretty neat as she maneuvered through the tables.

She found a couple closer to the wall of the cafe and chose to wait at one of them. Jia scrolled through her phone as a text from Ryujin came in, telling her to look up and over to a table near the edge of the seating area.

Her head immediately snapped up and followed Ryujin’s directions. There, she saw her friend waving at her with a smile on her face. Jia smiled back and took a couple of pictures of her before shooting her heart sign, to which Ryujin reciprocated.

Jia anxiously bit her lip and scrolled through tiktoks in hopes of distracting herself enough for her mind to calm down before Bada showed up. She alternated between social media and texting Ryujin when she heard someone approach the table.

“Am I late?” Jia immediately looked up to see a slightly worried Bada reaching the table and she couldn't help the smile that took over her features. She shook her head and stood from her seat, meeting Bada in front of the table.

Due to the couple of inches from the platform sandals she sported, she was about the same height as Bada. She smugly smiled before greeting the girl with a hug. Her affections were immediately reciprocated and the pair hugged for a little before taking seats across from each other.

Jia discreetly looked over to Ryujin’s table where she was fake-reading a book while keeping most of her focus on the two. Jia turned her attention back onto the girl in front of her and held a soft smile.

“This place is so pretty, how did you discover it?” Jia questioned while looking around the sit-down cafe before moving her gaze back onto Bada.

“I found this place a couple of months ago with a few friends,” Bada answered with a smile as she pulled two menus from its holder off to the side. Jia hummed and thanked Bada for the menu when she handed it to her.

She skimmed the menu, secretly peeking at the girl across from her before setting it down. The casual attire that Bada wore looked good, and she smelled even better. Little did Jia know that the said outfit took Bada thirty minutes and five phone calls to put together.

Bada followed suit and pressed a button that summoned the waiter. While waiting for the waiter, the two began making conversation. Jia really enjoyed Bada’s facial expressions while talking, it made her look so passionate about the smallest things.

Jia also acknowledged how adorably dorky Bada was. She was convinced Bada’s little quirks made her like her even more. Once the waiter approached the table and greeted the two, they said their orders.

The pair continued their conversation after the waitress left, going back and forth with questions. “So, when's your birthday?” Bada asked while placing her chin on top of her propped-up palm.

“April 24th… I’m a Taurus.” Jia said, said with a hint of pride. She found her birthdate to be aesthetically satisfying to her mind when she thought about it in numeral form.

“Yours?” Jia rerouted the question back to Bada, subconsciously shifting in her seat to get closer to the girl.

A small smile hinted at Bada’s features before she began speaking. “September 22nd…” Jia’s hand immediately fell on the table. “Wait, you're telling me-” She cut herself off as she flipped her phone over.

Her gaze flickered between Bada and her phone, her shocked face morphed into an expression of realization. “Today is the 16th… its five days away!” Jia exclaimed, attempting to keep her voice lower than a shout.

Bada nodded with an amused smile. She found Jia’s whole reaction a mixture of entertaining and endearing. “This isn't funny, now I have to scour the earth to find a gift good enough for you in less than five days!” Jia half-joked with a huff, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms.

“Just a ‘happy birthday’ will work,” Bada said while mimicking Jia’s sitting position. Jia instantly shook her head at the girl’s statement, finding it completely foolish.

“Yeah, that's not gonna happen. I'm a great gift-giver so I can't miss an opportunity like this. If anything, this is more for me than for you!” Jia rambled on, crossing her legs as she spoke and tried to reason with the girl.

They had a staring contest and once Jia tilted her head and raised a challenging brow, Bada gave in with a sigh. Jia’s expression changed into a victorious grin as she hummed satisfactorily.

The waiter returned with their orders and the two politely thanked them. Jia took a sip of her beverage before leaning against the table. “So, tell me what you're doing for your birthday.”

Bada thought a little before shrugging. “Nothing much. I'm probably just going to hang out in the studio with my crew, maybe go to a dinner and a movie with some friends.” Jia nodded at Bada’s statement, the soft smile that graced her lips was unable to abandon them.

The conversation flowed through various topics, from favorite shows to funny childhood stories. Jia took many opportunities to discreetly try and find out bits and pieces of Bada’s potential sexuality standing.

Most of the questions she asked were pretty obvious to Jia, but Bada really had no clue what she meant by them. At some point, Jia asked Bada if she had ever watched ‘The L Word’ and Bada couldn't have been any more confused.

Jia was in the middle of telling a story about her and Laura in middle school when she mentioned someone she had never really revealed existed to the public. “Wait, you have a brother?” Bada asked, the surprise evident in her tone.

“Oh, yeah. He's the youngest and is still in school. A real pain in the ass, but I guess he's alright.” Jia answered before sipping her beverage. Bada hummed in fascination, pleased to find out something new about Jia’s life.

While Bada was telling a story about something funny that happened earlier this year with her friends, Jia couldn't stop staring at the breadcrumb on the corner of the girl’s lips.

She contemplated whether she should tell the girl about it or not. Jia didn't want to cut off the girl’s cute ramblings so she opted for the second thing that came to mind. She slowly moved her hand toward the girl’s cheek and held it while wiping off the crumb at the corner of Bada’s lips.

As soon as Jia’s hand made contact with Bada’s face, Bada’s actions paused and her voice died in her throat. A light blush came over her features once Jia’s soft thumb made contact with the corner of her lips. After a few swipes, the warm feeling of Jia’s hand disappeared from Bada’s face, causing the girl to internally frown at the lack of warmth.

Jia’s eyes held a look of genuine innocence and cluelessness at the feelings she caused to arise in the girl across from her. She signaled for Bada to continue speaking and took a bite of her own food.

For a little while, Bada’s sentences held a slight stutter as she kept anxiously fixing her bangs from time to time. Jia intently paid attention to Bada’s words, not minding the stutter at all.

Bada passed the conversation onto Jia, relaxing a bit once the the girl started rambling about a subject she was interested in. After many conversations and laughs, the two girls had finished their lunches.

Both of them learned more about each other and it grew their connection, as well as their feelings for one another. Once the bill came, Jia instantly took it. Bada protested, saying that since she was the one to invite her, she should pay.

But Jia wouldn't back down. “You bought me a snack yesterday, so I buy you lunch today. Also, weren't you the one that said ‘friends buy friends things’?” Jia confidently recited, a slight smirk resting across her face as she took her wallet from her bag.

Bada sighed and jokingly rolled her eyes with a grin on her face. “Using my words against me, I see. Fine, but next time… I'm paying.” Bada waved a finger at the girl and Jia waved it off as she placed her card inside the bill holder and signed her signature before handing it back over to the waiter.

Jia sweetly smiled at Bada’s fake frown. “Thank you for letting me pay, I could see how much it pained you to do so.” She dramatically thanked the girl with both hands on her heart, causing Bada’s facade to crack and a laugh to escape.

“It really did hurt me watching you pay. My heart clenched in agony.” Bada mimicked Jia’s dramatics while deepening her playful frown. The waitress returned Jia’s card and wished the two a good day before attending to the next table.

The two girls simultaneously stood up with a sigh. “This was really fun, we have to do it again sometime soon.” Bada voiced with a charming smile. “I was just about to say the same thing.” Jia agreed with a matching smile and a head nod.

Bada and Jia slowly made their way down to the lower levels of the building, carrying out their conversation for as long as they could. The two frequently brushed arms in the process, but neither of them addressed it.

Jia thought that their paths would divide once they stepped out onto the concrete, but Bada offered to walk Jia to her car. Of course, the girl accepted the offer. The pair continued their conversation as they slowly strode to Jia’s car.

Both girls didn't want to end the conversation, but Jia knew if she didn't Bada would be late for the meeting she mentioned earlier. Jia hugged the girl goodbye, staying in each other’s hold for just a moment longer than what seemed customary.

Jia watched Bada walk in the other direction before getting into her own car. Instead of igniting the engine, she sat behind the wheel and reflected on the past hour she spent with Bada. She couldn't help the giddy smile that graced her features as she excitedly tapped against her wheel.

Her soul almost left her body when knocks were heard against her window. Jia’s eyes widened as a hand fell on her chest before she slowly turned toward the culprit.

A breath was released once she realized the guilty party was Ryujin. The girl laughed at her friend’s change of expression before signaling her to lower her window. Jia followed her friend’s signal as she caught her breath and steadied her heart.

“If I died just now, just know you would be the one responsible,” Jia uttered with narrowed eyes, causing Ryujin’s smile to grow. “Well, good thing you didn't because you wouldn't hear what I'm about to say.”

Jia’s expression changed as she turned her body toward the girl leaning on her car window. “First of all, that place was great. Ten out of ten food, I'll probably go again with-” “Okay, okay, I get it. The food was amazing, now tell me what I want to know.” Jia cut the girl off with a hopeful glint in her eyes.

“That, my friend, was definitely a date. I don't even know where to begin on how much of a date that was. It was so cute, you two are perfect.” Ryujin continued to gush at the memory of observing the date.

A bright grin, with a hint of shyness, grew on Jia’s face as she covered her mouth at what Ryujin revealed. “You're positive?” “Baby, why would I lie about this?” Ryujin rhetorically questioned, a smile still present on her features.

“No, you actually might be right. Thank you for your service, agent baby girl.” Jia jokingly drew out with a salute, although there was still some doubt in her head.

“Anytime, except for the rest of the day. I can't believe I had to play spy on my day off…” Ryujin voiced with slight disbelief, shaking her head before saying goodbye to Jia.

The girl laughed at her friend’s claim and watched her walk away from the window. She rolled it back up and laid her head against the seat. A satisfied him drew out of her matching smile before she decided to start her car.

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