#like girl be sooooooo serious

[maurypovichofficial2]

A doctor’s office will say ‘we have an opening 6 months from now at 5:45am?? ‘

[beansterpie]

rewatching LoK, i'm being reminded how much I dislike the.... the brothers, mako and bolin, yanno? they're such underwhelming characters on basically every level. it'd almost be impressive if they weren't in every episode and didn't annoy me so much ugh

[finalgirlgretchen]

someone has GOTTTTTT to let me play christine in a production of bmc

[lorillee]

one thing about lorillee and her taste in media She loves messy family drama where everybody kind of sucks more than life itself

[emulation-0]

it seems people are already upset that tsumiki is not nice anymore, sorry you dont know her like i do

[the-gayest-tree-you-ever-did-see]

taylor swift stop rewriting history challenge 2024

[wholesalesoftie]

*kicking my feet, twirling my hair* so there's this giiiiiirl

[reflectionsofgalaxies]

been validated in my (poor?) decisions TWICE today and i’m feeling vindicated if also mildly conflicted

[goddessofvalyria]

DEATH | Martin (In the modern world) x fem!oc

As I saw Ewan Mitchell in the music video for Fontaines DC - In The Modern World, I obviously know that music video made us Tumblr girls write sooooooo much and I'm here for that.

Since you liked the previous part "Alive" (read here). I did the second part, the ending of their story.

English is not my first language, be kind and enjoy it <3

Summary: After Cassandra and Martin got together, their relationship was deep and full of love, but it also had a dark side. She still felt broken and lost, he was afraid of losing her and knew he couldn't live without his girlfriend. Sometimes love isn't enough to heal the pain.

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, She/Her pronouns, the fem!oc is named Cassandra with long wavy dark black hair and blue-purple eyes, kissing, sexual themes, dirty talking, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, masturbation (f and m receiving), SMUT, sex, heavy drug use and mention (their became addicted on cocaine and heroine, if you have watched/read "Requiem for a dream" and "Zoo station: the story of Christiane F." you know how this part is going to be hard to read), sadness, death.

This is my Masterlist

Words: 6800

After Cassandra and Martin got together, their relationship became something profound and intense, a bond forged in both love and darkness. Martin, who had once admired her from afar, now held her close, determined to protect her from the world that had already taken so much from her. But despite the love they shared, a shadow lingered over them, growing heavier with each passing day.

Cassandra was still broken, haunted by the demons that had pushed her to the edge. No matter how much Martin tried to fill the void, the pain inside her remained, gnawing at her soul. She turned to drugs to numb the agony—first cocaine, then heroin. The drugs offered her a brief escape, a momentary release from the turmoil within, but they also dragged her further into darkness.

Martin watched helplessly as Cassandra spiraled deeper into her addiction. She was often high, her eyes glazed over, her body trembling as the heroin coursed through her veins. The girl he loved was slipping away, lost in a haze of needles and powder. He couldn’t bear to see her in so much pain, and the thought of losing her terrified him. He had already killed for her, and now, he was willing to do anything to stay close to her, even if it meant destroying himself in the process.

One night, the weight of everything became too much for Martin to bear. He had watched Cassandra slipping further away, disappearing into a world of darkness that he couldn’t reach. The thought of losing her completely terrified him, and he knew that if he couldn’t save her, he had to at least understand her pain. He had to feel what she felt, even if it meant following her into the abyss.

As they lay in bed, the room dimly lit by the flicker of a single candle on the nightstand, Martin turned to Cassandra, his voice trembling with desperation. "Show me," he said, his eyes pleading. "Show me how to do it. I want to feel what you feel."

Cassandra’s gaze flickered with surprise, then something darker—resignation. She had always kept that part of her life separate from him, as if by doing so, she could protect him from the worst of it. But now, seeing the pain in his eyes, the resolve in his voice, she knew there was no turning back. If he was going to join her in this, she couldn’t stop him.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her voice soft but serious. "Once you start, there’s no going back."

Martin nodded, his heart pounding. "I need to understand, Cass. I need to be with you."

With a heavy sigh, Cassandra rolled out of bed and walked over to a small, hidden box she kept tucked away in the corner of the room. She opened it and took out a syringe, a spoon, a small bag of heroin, and a lighter. Martin watched her every move, his breath catching in his throat as the reality of what he was about to do sank in.

Cassandra returned to the bed, sitting beside him, her hands steady despite the turmoil in her heart. "Watch carefully," she instructed, her voice tinged with sadness. "I’ll show you how."

She placed the heroin on the spoon and held the lighter underneath, heating it until it dissolved into a liquid. Martin’s eyes followed the process, a mixture of fear and determination etched into his features. He couldn’t believe this was happening, but he couldn’t stop himself either.

Cassandra filled the syringe with the liquid, then turned to Martin, her expression softening. "Give me your arm," she said gently.

Martin hesitated for a moment before extending his arm, the veins standing out against his pale skin. Cassandra tied her hair elastic his upper arm, tightening it until a vein became prominent. She met his gaze, her eyes searching his one last time for any sign of doubt.

"You don’t have to do this," she whispered, her voice wavering. "We can still stop."

But Martin shook his head, his resolve unbroken. "I’m with you, Cass. I need to do this. I need to feel what you feel"

Nodding slowly, Cassandra carefully inserted the needle into his vein and pushed the plunger, releasing the heroin into his bloodstream. The sensation was immediate—an overwhelming warmth spreading through his body, followed by a wave of euphoria that left him breathless. It was like nothing he had ever felt before, a powerful escape from the reality he had been drowning in.

Cassandra prepared a second dose for herself, and as she injected it, their eyes met. There was no need for words; they both understood what this meant, what they were becoming together.

As the drug took hold, they lay back on the bed, their bodies entwined, the world outside fading into a distant blur. Time lost its meaning, and the only reality was the warmth of each other’s touch, the shared high that seemed to erase all the pain, all the fear. For a brief, shining moment, nothing else mattered.

Martin turned to Cassandra, his voice slurred but filled with a strange sort of peace. "I get it now," he murmured. "I understand why you do this."

Cassandra smiled sadly, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. "It helps… for a while. But it’s not real, Martin. It’s just an escape."

"I don’t care," he whispered, pulling her closer. "As long as I’m with you."

As the haze of the heroin settled over them, Martin turned to Cassandra, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear, longing, and something darker—possessiveness. The world outside their small cocoon felt distant, almost unreal, and all that mattered was the woman lying beside him.

He reached out, his fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other, a silent understanding passing between them. Then, without a word, Martin leaned in, his lips capturing hers in a slow, intense kiss.

The kiss was different this time—deeper, more desperate, as if he were trying to pour all of his emotions into that one act. He could taste the faint residue of the cocaine on her lips, mingling with the saltiness of unshed tears. Pulling back just slightly, his breath warm against her skin, he whispered, "I love you, Cassandra. I’ve always loved you."

His voice was raw, filled with a vulnerability that he rarely let show. He pressed his forehead against hers, his lips barely grazing her ear as he continued, "You’re mine, Cass. You’ve always been mine, and I’m never letting you go."

Cassandra’s eyes glistened with emotion, her hand coming up to rest against his chest. She could feel the rapid beating of his heart beneath her palm, matching her own. The intensity of his words sent a shiver down her spine, a mix of fear and comfort in his possessive declaration.

"I’m yours," she whispered back, her voice barely audible. "I’ve always been yours, Martin."

With that, she kissed him again, her hands tangling in his hair as if to anchor herself to him, to the only person who understood her darkness and didn’t shy away. The kiss deepened, growing more passionate, more intense, as if they were trying to merge

They stayed like that for hours, lost in each other and the high, the outside world nothing more than a distant memory. They talked, sharing their deepest fears and regrets, things they had never spoken aloud before. The drugs made them feel safe, invincible, as if nothing could touch them in that moment.

But as the high began to fade, reality crept back in, bringing with it the darkness they had tried so hard to escape. They knew it wouldn’t last, that the relief was temporary, but it didn’t matter. All they had was each other, and as long as they could keep that, they were willing to fall deeper into the void.

Together, they had crossed a line, and there was no turning back. They were bound to each other in a way that went beyond love, beyond reason—two lost souls, clinging to one another as they drifted further into the abyss.

As they lay in bed one afternoon, the sun barely filtering through the heavy curtains, Cassandra turned to him, her voice slurred from the heroin. "Do you ever think about what we used to be?" she asked, her eyes searching his face as if looking for a trace of the boy she once knew.

Martin stared at the ceiling, his thoughts slow and muddled. "All the time," he admitted, his voice hoarse. "I remember how you were… so full of life, so bright. I always wondered what it would be like to be close to you, the prettiest girl I've ever seen in all my life."

Cassandra let out a soft, bitter laugh. "I’m not that girl anymore, Martin. She’s gone. Maybe she was never real to begin with."

"She was real" Martin insisted, turning his head to look at her. "You were real. You still are."

She shook her head, her lips trembling as tears welled up in her eyes. "I don’t even know who I am anymore. This… this isn’t living. We’re just existing, waiting for the next high, the next escape."

Martin reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "But we’re together, Cass. That’s what matters."

Cassandra’s gaze softened, but there was a deep sadness in her eyes. "You shouldn’t have followed me into this" she whispered, her voice thick with guilt. "I’m dragging you down with me, I'm killing you, my love."

"I’d rather be down here with you than up there alone" Martin said, his voice firm. "I can’t lose you. I won’t."

They fell into silence, the weight of their words hanging between them. The music playing in the background seemed distant, the lyrics a haunting reminder of the life they once had.

Later that night, after another hit, Cassandra leaned against Martin, her head resting on his shoulder as they listened to the soft strains of a melancholic song. "Do you think there’s any way out of this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Martin hesitated, unsure of what to say. He wanted to believe there was, that they could somehow claw their way out of the darkness together, but deep down, he knew the truth. "I don’t know," he finally said, his voice quiet.

Cassandra smiled weakly, though it didn’t reach her eyes. "I’m scared, Martin. I don’t want to lose you. You are all I have."

"You won’t," he promised, his arms tightening around her. "I am yours and you are mine."

But as the days turned into nights, and the drugs continued to pull them under, the hope in Martin’s voice became harder to believe. They spent their days lying in bed, talking about their lives, their fears, and their dreams, but always with the shadow of their addiction looming over them.

"We could just run away" Cassandra said one morning, her voice filled with a fleeting sense of hope. "Leave everything behind, start fresh somewhere else."

Martin looked at her, his heart aching at the desperation in her voice. "And go where? We can’t outrun this, Cass. It’ll follow us wherever we go."

She sighed, the momentary hope fading. "I know… we're fucked up."

"You're so beautiful" Martin whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You're the only one who's ever loved me,” she said, caressing his face.

But even as he said the words, he knew they were slipping further and further away from the life they once knew, from the people they once were. All they had left was each other, and even that was slowly being consumed by the darkness.

The next day, as the first light of dawn filtered through the heavy curtains, Cassandra and Martin lay in bed, their bodies intertwined beneath the sheets. The remnants of the night before still lingered in the air—the scent of sweat, the faint hint of blood, and the unmistakable presence of the drugs that had dulled their pain, if only for a little while. The world outside felt distant and unreal, as if they were suspended in a place where time didn’t exist.

Cassandra’s gaze was distant as she stared at the ceiling, her thoughts drifting to places she didn’t want to go. After a long silence, she spoke, her voice soft and filled with a quiet despair. "There is something terrible in reality, and I don’t know what it is" she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Why do I always need others?"

Martin turned his head to look at her, his heart aching at the vulnerability in her voice. He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "You’re not alone, Cass," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "I’m here with you. You don’t have to face it by yourself."

Cassandra shook her head, her fingers tracing the lines of his face, the stubble on his jaw, the curve of his lips. "If I were to leave and never come back," she murmured, her voice tinged with a mix of fear and longing, "I would take you with me too. And yes, because now you are part of me… that is, of what I have around me."

Her fingers moved up to caress his black hair, and Martin closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. He felt the warmth of her hand against his skin, the tenderness in her gesture. It was as if she was trying to memorize every part of him, to hold onto him as tightly as she could, even as everything else seemed to be slipping away.

Martin opened his eyes and looked at her, his gaze intense. "You don’t have to go anywhere," he whispered before leaning in to kiss her, his lips brushing against hers with a gentleness that belied the storm of emotions inside him. "I need you, Cass," he murmured against her lips, his voice filled with raw honesty. "I don’t know how to be without you."

Cassandra sighed, her breath warm against his skin. "And I need you," she whispered back, her voice trembling slightly. "But sometimes, I feel like I’m drowning… and I don’t want to pull you down with me."

Martin’s hand moved to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped down her face. "We’ll face it together," he promised, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his heart. "Whatever happens, whatever this is… we’ll face it together. You’re not pulling me down. We’re holding each other up."

Cassandra’s heart swelled with emotion, and she leaned in, capturing his lips in a deeper kiss, one filled with all the unspoken words, the fears, and the love they shared. The kiss was slow at first, tentative, as if they were both afraid of what would happen if they let themselves feel too much. But as the moments passed, the intensity grew, their caresses becoming more urgent, more desperate.

Martin’s hands roamed over her body, feeling the softness of her skin beneath his fingers, while Cassandra’s hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. Their breaths became shallow, their hearts pounding in unison as they lost themselves in each other.

"I’m here," Martin whispered against her lips, his voice rough with emotion. "I’m not going anywhere."

Cassandra responded by deepening the kiss, her body arching against his as the desire between them became impossible to ignore. The warmth of his touch, the way his lips moved against hers—it was all she needed in that moment, all she wanted. The fear, the pain, the darkness—they all faded away, leaving only the two of them, connected in a way that went beyond words.

Their movements became more urgent, their hands exploring, their breaths mingling as the intensity of their desire grew. Martin’s kisses trailed down her neck, and Cassandra gasped, her fingers clutching at his shoulders as he pulled her closer. The heat between them was overwhelming, and soon, they were lost in the rhythm of their bodies, the world outside forgotten as they gave in to the passion that had been building between them.

Martin’s breath quickened as he urgently pulled Cassandra closer, his hands trembling slightly as he grasped the hem of the t-shirt she wore—a t-shirt she had stolen from one of his drawers, a piece of him that she had claimed as her own. With one swift motion, he pulled it over her head, exposing her smooth, scented skin to the cool air. The sight of her, so vulnerable and beautiful, made his heart race.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to her collarbone, trailing soft kisses down her chest, inhaling the familiar scent of her skin, a mix of her perfume and something uniquely hers. His hands moved lower, finding the waistband of her panties, his voice a low murmur as he whispered against her skin, "Lift your hips, darling."

Cassandra complied, her breath hitching as she arched her hips off the bed, giving him the space to slide her panties down her legs. The intimate act made her shiver with anticipation, and a soft moan escaped her lips as Martin tossed the fabric aside, his blue eyes dark with desire as they roamed over her body.

Unable to resist the temptation, Cassandra reached up, her lips finding the sensitive spot on his neck. She kissed him there, her mouth hot against his skin, her breath ragged with need. "I want you to feel good" she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "I want you to be mine."

With a sudden burst of confidence, she pushed him back onto the bed, reversing their positions. She straddled him, her hands moving to the waistband of his boxers, sliding them off with a deliberate slowness that made his pulse quicken. As she freed him from the last barrier between them, she let her own remaining clothing fall away, leaving her naked above him, her body illuminated by the soft morning light that filtered through the curtains.

Martin’s breath caught in his throat as he looked up at her, his hands instinctively reaching out to trace the curves of her body. But Cassandra wasn’t done. She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his chest, her kisses growing more insistent as she moved lower. Her hair cascaded over his skin, sending shivers down his spine as she continued her descent, her mouth leaving a trail of heat wherever it touched.

Every kiss, every touch, was filled with a desperate need to connect, to claim one another in a way that words could never fully express. When she finally looked up at him, her eyes burning with desire, Martin felt like he was falling, losing himself in the depths of her gaze.

"I’m yours, Cass" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Always."

Cassandra’s response was immediate—she kissed him fiercely, their lips crashing together with a passion that had been building for far too long. Their bodies moved in sync, the rhythm of their love-making intense and all-consuming. Each touch, each gasp, each whispered word was a testament to the deep, complicated love they shared—a love that was as beautiful as it was destructive.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the darkness that loomed over them, not the pain that threatened to tear them apart. All that existed was the here and now, the feeling of being completely and utterly consumed by each other.

She slowly moved down with kisses, kissed him on his chest, then on his abdomen and then on to his long veiny cock. She began to caress him, feeling his breathing accelerate, Martin closed his eyes, but then opened them again. He wanted to look at her, eat her with his gaze, imprint her every movement in his mind. Cassandra lowered herself to lick him along his shaft and then wrapped him between her lips and began to suck him.

Martin grabbed her by the hair to make her movements easier, moaning and enjoying that sensation, of feeling her wet lips, aware that she was driving him crazy. "My good girl" he whined. She also caressed him with her hand and the more she concentrated on him, the more the mere thought of seeing him helpless under her touch excited her. They looked straight into each other's eyes, she wanted him terribly. Martin knew he couldn't resist for long, he wanted to come between her lips again like the night before, but he knew it wouldn't be enough. He wanted her, he wanted her all for himself.

The thought of taking her, there in that bed was driving him crazy as well as the idea of ​​having her in his hands and touching her only as he knew how, driving her crazy with every single touch.

He knew her body, he knew how her skin reacted to his fingers, to his caresses and kisses.

"Come here" he whispered lost in pleasure, she looked up and with a last lick she pulled away from him. "Did you like it?" she asked. "I like everything you do to me" he whispered, he grabbed her in his hands, tortured her nipples, kissed them, sucked them to make them more sensitive, licked her breasts.

"I need to feel something" she whispered lying on the bed, Martin went from kissing her lips to her neck, between her breasts, on her abdomen and then on her pussy. He opened her legs, she was so excited that it was dripping between her crotches.

"I need to feel you mine" she put a hand in his hair, he grabbed her by the thighs opening her with two fingers and then licked her. "You are breathtaking, you are mine, mine and mine only" he whispered giving her a kiss there.

He looked into her eyes, rose a little and soon he spat on her pussy, making her shiver. She had liked it. "My love" Cassandra whispered, feeling his tongue licking her between her soaking wet folds, his nose pressing on her clit, his tongue sliding into her slit fucking her deep inside. Cassandra moaned, arching her back, finding herself begging him, her hands clenched in her thick black hair.

"My love" Martin whispered, kissing her on the inside of her thigh. "My love, my love, my love" with his thumb he began to tease her clit, Cassandra's legs trembled as her pussy began to tighten around his fingers. Martin buried his face between her thighs again, he resumed licking her greedily until she came on his tongue, the orgasm shook her so much that he held her still.

"I want to make love to you" Martin whispered, his face resting on her pussy. "I want to make love to you for the rest of my life, my love."

Martin stood on her, towering over her with his body, perfect, slender and trained. She, beautiful to the point of pain: thick and long eyelashes, deep blue-violet eyes, capable of digging into his soul, were those of his beloved, illuminated by a deep love and a dangerous darkness. She sat up and touched him in every inch of his body: the defined muscles, the back, even the soft hair. She leaned forward kissing him on the lips, when they parted a trickle of saliva joined their lips. "I want to feel your skin against mine" Cassandra whispered looking at Martin. "I want to feel only what you can give me so well" And then she felt the hard erection, hot and humid, heavy, pressing against the inside of her thigh. She bit her lips excited, Martin took her hips helping her and entered her while they still had their lips glued together and they were moaning into each other's mouths. Taking her by the hips he helped her move and increased the pace of his thrusts, eliciting moans of pleasure from both of them. She pressed herself against him.

"My love, my love, my love" she whispered with each thrust, feeling that deep feeling that only he was able to give her. "You're mine, you're mine, mine, mine, mine, only mine" Martin whispered, pushing himself into her, their hands intertwined and their lips consumed with each kiss. Cassandra's body moved with each thrust, she trembled with excitement and melted under her lover's hands, it was all stronger than a drug. Martin loved her with all of himself and now that he could have her all to himself, it seemed that time was no longer enough.

"You're the most beautiful thing that has ever happened to me" Cassandra whispered between one kiss and the next, Martin rested his forehead against hers. "You are the only beautiful thing in my life" he gave her a stronger push, then turned her on her stomach on the mattress. "Like this, from behind?" he whispered perversely in her ear, gathering her hair in one thing.

"Yes, my love" she turned her face to look at him, Martin pinned her to the mattress with his body and only lifted her hips, leaving her ass in the air. "How beautiful you are when you are submissive to me" Cassandra smiled, but her smile soon turned into a grimace of pleasure when he opened her thighs and buried his face between them, eating her from behind.

Cassandra grabbed the sheets with her hands, felt her boyfriend's tongue fucking her opening and moaned writhing. "My good girl" Martin whispered caressing her back with his hands, placing kisses all over her scented skin. "You're so wet" he whispered, feeling her intimate area again with two fingers. "And you're mine" in an unexpected gesture he spanked her, she laughed, she liked it.

"Do it again" Cassandra whispered and this time, Martin left his hand imprinted on her skin and with the other he guided his cock inside her, fucking her from behind. She was hot, wet and tight around him. He lowered himself so much that he could turn her face and kiss her, Cassandra pushed herself with her hips against his cock, Martin grabbed her hips, he heard her moan, pant his name and shortly after, when she was about to come he turned her on her back, penetrated her again and while she was dying in the spasms of another orgasm. He fucked her again and again with love. He grabbed her by the thighs and let himself come inside her, filling her.

Martin collapsed in his arms, Cassandra held him between them. He rested his face on her breast, kissing her and breathing in her scent. "You're my whole life, you're my whole fucking life," he whispered against her. "I'm yours and you're mine" Cassandra whispered, stroking his hair.

As they made love, it wasn’t just about the physical connection—it was about holding on to each other, about finding solace in each other’s arms. They moved together, their bodies fitting perfectly, as if they were made for this, for each other. And in that moment, everything else faded away—there was no darkness, no fear, no pain. There was only them, together, holding on to each other in the only way they knew how.

Afterward, they lay tangled in the sheets, their bodies still pressed close, their breaths slowing as the intensity of the moment began to fade. Martin held Cassandra tightly, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin as they lay in silence, the weight of their reality settling back in. But for now, in the aftermath of their shared intimacy, they found a brief respite from the darkness that surrounded them—a moment of peace in a world that felt increasingly chaotic and uncertain.

"I love you, Cass" Martin whispered, his voice filled with a quiet determination. "No matter what happens, I’m here."

Cassandra nodded, her head resting against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "I love you too, Martin," she whispered back, her voice soft but full of emotion. "I just hope that’s enough."

Cassandra lay beside Martin, her head resting on his chest as they caught their breath, their bodies still entwined beneath the sheets. The weight of their love, of everything they had been through, hung in the air, a mix of sorrow and something achingly sweet.

Martin reached over to the nightstand, grabbing a pack of cigarettes. He lit one, taking a deep drag before passing it to Cassandra. She took it from him, her fingers brushing against his as she brought it to her lips. They lay there in the quiet, the smoke curling upward in lazy spirals, the only sound the soft crackle of burning tobacco and their steady, slowing breaths.

As Cassandra exhaled, she turned to look at Martin, her eyes soft but filled with a deep, unspoken sadness. She held the cigarette between her fingers, watching the embers glow in the dim light. "Martin" she whispered, her voice barely audible, "let's do it again. Let's get high, just one more time. Together."

Martin looked at her, his heart heavy with a mix of emotions he couldn’t quite untangle. He knew what she was asking, knew the darkness they were teetering on the edge of. But he also knew that he couldn’t say no—not to her, not when she looked at him like that, as if he were her last lifeline in a world that had already taken too much from her.

"Alright" he murmured, his voice thick with resignation. "One more time, my love."

She smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach her eyes. Together, they prepared the drugs and then they injected the heroin each other in silence, their hands trembling just slightly as the drug coursed through their veins, bringing with it the sweet, numbing relief they both craved.

As the high took hold, Cassandra turned to Martin, her movements slow and dreamlike. She kissed him softly, her lips barely brushing against his, as if she were afraid to break the fragile moment. He kissed her back, his hands gently cradling her face, their breaths mingling in the dim light.

They lay back down, their bodies entwined, their hearts slowing as the heroin dulled the edges of their reality. The world around them faded, the pain and fear slipping away, leaving only the warmth of each other’s embrace.

Lying on the bed, their bodies still warm from the afterglow and the drugs beginning to weave their hazy spell, Cassandra and Martin found themselves in the vulnerable space where their deepest secrets, long buried under layers of pain and pretense, could no longer be hidden.

Cassandra’s gaze was unfocused, her eyes glassy as she stared at the ceiling. The heroin dulled the sharp edges of her thoughts, making it easier to speak, to let out the words that had been trapped inside her for so long. She turned her head slightly to look at Martin, her voice a soft, trembling whisper.

"Martin… there’s something I need to tell you. About who I really am… who I was." She hesitated, the words caught in her throat. "The perfect girl you knew in school… that wasn’t me. It was just a mask I wore, a way to survive."

Martin’s brow furrowed as he listened, his heart tightening at the vulnerability in her voice. He reached out, taking her hand in his, silently urging her to continue.

"My childhood was…" Cassandra’s voice cracked, and she swallowed hard before continuing. "It was a nightmare, Martin. My parents—they were never there for me, not really. My father was always away, and when he was home, he was… cruel. My mother, she just pretended everything was fine, like we were the perfect family. But behind closed doors, it was hell. I learned to pretend, to be the good daughter, the smart, popular girl, because it was the only way I knew to keep everything from falling apart."

Tears welled up in her eyes as she spoke, her voice shaking with the weight of her confession. "But inside, I was always broken. I didn’t let anyone see that part of me—not my friends, not anyone. I was so scared of being abandoned, of being hurt even more. So, I wore that mask, and I convinced everyone that I was fine… that I was perfect."

Martin’s heart ached as he listened to her words, realizing just how much she had been hiding, how deeply her pain ran. He tightened his grip on her hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles.

"Cass… I’m so sorry," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I had no idea… I always thought you were so strong, so perfect. But I should have seen the pain behind your eyes. I should have known."

Cassandra shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks. "No, Martin… you couldn’t have known. I didn’t let anyone close enough to see. Not even you. And that’s something I regret more than anything."

She took a deep breath, her gaze locking onto his. "I regret not noticing you, Martin. You were always there, always kind and sweet, and I was too blinded by my own pain to see you. I wish I had seen you sooner."

Martin’s eyes softened, his heart swelling with a mix of love and sorrow. "Cass, I’ve loved you for so long… even when we barely knew each other, even when you didn’t see me. I loved you. I love you."

He leaned in, capturing her lips in a deep, tender kiss, pouring all of his emotions into that single act. Cassandra kissed him back with equal intensity, her hands cupping his face as if she were trying to hold onto this moment, to make it last forever.

When they finally pulled apart, Martin rested his forehead against hers, his breath warm against her skin. "I love you so much, Cassandra," he whispered, his voice trembling. "And I always will."

Cassandra’s eyes shone with tears, but she smiled through them, her heart full despite the sadness that lingered. "I love you too, Martin. I’m so sorry it took me this long to say it, to really mean it… but I do. I love you with everything I have."

"I love you, my love" Martin whispered, his voice slurred, heavy with the drug’s effect.

"I love you too, my love" Cassandra replied, her words thick and drowsy. She nestled closer to him, their limbs tangled together, seeking comfort in the only place they had ever truly felt safe—in each other’s arms.

As they lay side by side, the silence between them thick with unspoken words, Martin knew it was his turn to let the darkness inside him out. He looked at Cassandra, her tear-streaked face still beautiful even in her pain, and felt the weight of his own past pressing down on him. It was time to tell her everything, to strip away the last of the walls he’d built around himself.

"Cass, my love" he began, his voice low and unsteady, "There’s something I’ve never told you… about my life, about who I really am."

Cassandra turned her head to look at him, her eyes soft with understanding and a silent invitation for him to continue. She squeezed his hand gently, urging him to speak.

"My life wasn’t much better" he confessed, his voice heavy with the burden of his memories. "I grew up in a broken home, too. My dad left when I was little, and my mom… she was never really there. She drank to forget, to escape whatever demons were haunting her. And I was just… there. Alone."

He paused, the memories flooding back, sharp and painful even after all these years. "I didn’t have anyone, Cass. No friends, no family who cared. I was just this pathetic, invisible kid trying to survive. I tried to escape it all, to find some way to deal with the loneliness, the anger… the emptiness. But nothing worked. Not until I started selling drugs."

Cassandra’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t pull away. She stayed close, her presence a silent reassurance that she was there, listening, understanding.

"I never wanted this life" Martin continued, his voice cracking. "But it’s the only thing I knew how to do. It was the only way I could make money, keep a roof over my head, keep going. I hated it, every single second of it, but I didn’t know how to stop. It’s like I was trapped in this cycle, and every time I thought I could break free, something pulled me back down."

His gaze dropped to their intertwined hands, and his voice softened, filled with a deep, aching sadness. "And then you came back into my life, Cass. You were the most beautiful thing in my pathetic existence. Seeing you again… it was like a lifeline. But I was so scared that I’d lose you, that you’d see me for what I really am—a loser who’s never been able to escape his demons."

Cassandra’s heart broke as she listened to Martin, her own pain mirrored in his words. She could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the way he was baring his soul to her, and it made her love him even more.

"You’re not a loser, Martin" she whispered, her voice filled with conviction. "You’ve been through so much, and you’re still here. You survived, and that takes strength. You’re not pathetic… you’re strong, and you’re kind, and you’re everything I could ever want."

Martin looked at her, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I’m so scared, Cass" he admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Scared of losing you, scared of what I’ve become. But when I’m with you… it’s like none of that matters. You make me feel like I’m worth something."

Cassandra leaned in, her lips brushing against his, the tenderness of the moment overwhelming. "You are worth everything to me, Martin," she whispered against his mouth. "I love you, more than I’ve ever loved anyone. And I’m not going anywhere. I'm your and you're mine"

Martin’s heart swelled with emotion, and he kissed her deeply, pouring all of his love, his fear, and his longing into that single act. "I love you, Cassandra" he whispered between kisses, his voice trembling with the intensity of his feelings. "I always have, and I always will in live and death"

"I love you too, Martin, in live and in death" Cassandra replied, her voice breaking with emotion.

Their kiss deepened, filled with a desperation that spoke of all the time they had lost, all the pain they had endured. As their lips moved together, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them, bound together by love and shared suffering. In each other’s arms, they found a moment of peace, a brief respite from the chaos that had defined their lives.

And for that fleeting moment, nothing else mattered.

They kissed again and again with kisses filled with both passion and an aching tenderness, as if they were trying to make up for all the lost time, for all the pain and missed chances. In that kiss, they found a connection that went beyond words, a bond that was both heartbreaking and beautiful.

As they lay back down, their fingers intertwined, they held each other close, their breaths slowly synchronizing as the drugs continued to pull them into a deeper, dreamlike state. They clung to each other, the confessions of love still echoing in the air, knowing that whatever came next, they were together.

And that, in the end, was all that mattered.

As the high deepened, their breaths grew slower, shallower, their eyes fluttering closed as they drifted off into a sleep that they would never wake from.

The room was quiet, save for the soft sound of their final breaths, their hearts beating their last, slow rhythm in perfect unison.

And then, silence.

They overdosed.

Cassandra and Martin lay together, their bodies still entwined, their faces peaceful as they slipped away, carried off by the very thing that had brought them together.

In death, they found the escape they had been searching for—a final, tragic peace, forever bound to each other in the darkness they could never quite escape in life, in that damn modern world.

"I feel alive in the city 

that you like 

and wait for the day to go dreaming 

right by 

seems so hard not to be free 

when you walk right beside me 

in the modern world".

A fact about these quotes in the one-shots:

"There is something terrible in reality, and I don’t know what it is"

"Why do I always need others?"

"If I were to leave and never come back,"

"I would take you with me too. And yes, because now you are part of me… that is, of what I have around me."

They are are from an Italian psychological drama film from 60s film called "The red desert".

[deeply-unserious-fellow]

HOLY FUCKING SHIT HAZBIN WAS SO FUCKING GOOD IM GOING INSANE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKENFKCMKWJRKFNSMSMDMSMDN-

Okay. Okay deep breaths. Time for some cool and collected comentary. Okay.

Putting it under the cut so ppl can avoid spoilers :)

HUSK USED TO BE AN OVERLORD!?!?!?!?!? HELLO!?!?!?!?!? FUCKIN PLOTTWIST OF THE CENTURY WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!?!?!?

Huskerdust my beloved

SIR PENTIOUS MY BELOVED

Vox was great. I love him he's so fucking cool-

If Vox wasn't already a Tumblr sexyman he's definitely gonna be one now. He's so fucking Onceler coded it's insane.

Velvette was amazing too. It's so funny that she's British lmao I was not expecting that

Velvette is also very Anne Boelyne(like from SIX not from Real Life) coded it's wild. Her part in that song with Carmila was giving so much Don't Lose Your Head

I swear I'll stop comparing them to other characters I SWEAR

Okay but me and my brother are working on a Hazbin Hotel swap AU where we swap the main cast with the overlords and in that AU we swapped Husk and Vox. The Husk used to be an overlord reveal is gonna make that AU soooooo much easier lmao

ADAM IS REALLY GOOD I promised I would stop comparing to other characters but he was giving SO MUCH Hades from Disney's Hercules like its insane

I think we should let Alex Brightman sing rocj and roll more often that song was such a fucking BANGER

SPEAKING OF THE SONGS- oh my god I love the soundtrack so fucking much-

Stayed Gone was a lil less hype then I was expecting but thats okay cuz it was still a banger and I loved the visuals

That song battle between Carmilla and Velvette????? Oh my god??????

Carmilla and Vaggie's song was also amazing but I think I know why they didn't have Stephanie Beatriz sing her own song in Elena of Avalor y'know, girl cannot hold a character voice while singing

LOSER WAS SO FUCKING GOOD- I love Huskerdust so much. I love Keith David so much. Blake Roman is such a phenomenal Angel Dust.

SPEAKING OF all the voice actors are amazing. Blake Roman, Brightman as Pentious and Joel Perez were the ones I was the most worried abt but I loved all their preformances so much it was fucking fantastic

Valentino can go die in a fucking hole <3

The other Vees are cool and fun to watch but I hope Valentino fucking dies

Okay to be fair he's also fun to watch when he's not in the same room as Angel Dust but tHAT DOESNT SUPERSEID MY HATRED FUCK 👏 THAT 👏 GUY 👏👏👏👏

Speaking of the Vees tho I do love their dynamic

My favorite episode was probably Radio Killed the Video Star bcuz of mY BOYS PENTIOUS AND VOX!!!!!!!!

And the most painful episode to watch was- no surprise- Masquerade

That episode was a fucking rollercoaster Jesus fucking Christ...

Those scenes with Angel and Valentino where so fucking visceral... like. Who the fuck wrote that. Who are you. Are you okay. Do you need help-

Tho I'm not sure abt how they're handling the ah- more serious bits of Angel's character. It is WAYYYYYY to early to tell and I think Loser wasn't like. Trying to downplay the situation. But the writers better have been careful moving foreward bcuz I can def see a world where Angel's arc goes very wrong very fast-

Also while we're criticizing: wasn't a fan of the pacing. Especially in episode two. Like I can look past it, but the way they breeze past some plot points kinda bugged me

Otherwise it was sooooooo fucking good man oh my god

THE HUMOR WAS SO MUCH BETTER THAN PPL MAKE IT OUT TO BEEEEEE PPL NEED TO STOP SHITTING ON THE COMEDY IN THESE SHOWS MAN-

The gag where Niffty just fucking stopped thinking every time the camera turned on was so fucking good

Niffty in general was really fuckin funny

Alastor was a lot less prominent of a character then I thought he would be but tbh I think that's for the best. He's like Discord from My Little Pony, fun in small doses but if you don't set perameters for how often he appears and when he's willing to help it kinda breaks the show

Chaggie is adorable and I love them <3

I think this show does a really good job balancing the focus on the whole cast! These first 4 episodes seem to be pretty Charlie, Angel and kind of Vaggie heavy but everybody still gets their fair share of attention!

THE ANIMATIOJ OH MY GOD- IT WAS FUCKING PHENOMENAL IM LOSING MY M I N D

Im going feral IM GOING FERAL THIS EXCEEDED MY EXPECTATIONS AKFNVKKENFEKFNDN

I love comedy. I love musicals. I love drama. I love silly characters. I LOVE ANIMATION!!!!!!!

It's like the South Park movie but longer and better animated and IVE BEEN WAITING FOUR FUCKING YEARS-

Just. So excited overall. Can't wait to see where it goes. May make more posts abt my thoughts in tbe future.

[esspos]

sooooooo,,,, i’ve finally finished my yuri recommendations list. this is a culmination of about 3ish years of reading yuri manga/manhwa/manhua plus tapas & webtoons and stuff from lezhin as well. i’ve been superrrrrrr busy so i haven’t gotten around to reviewing any stuff in a while or posting stuff so hopefully i can start again soon 😊

- [ ] a monsters wants to eat me (modern) (horror)

- [ ] Bloom into you (modern)

- [ ] mage & demon queen (fantasy isekai but kind of/kind of not) (webtoon)

- [ ] whispering you a love song (modern) (fav romance, puppygirl himari)

- [ ] can’t defy the lonely girl (modern)

- [ ] donuts and a crescent moon (modern, office) (top 5 of all time)

- [ ] kimi to tzuzuru (modern) (extremely depressing)

- [ ] she loves to cook, she loves to eat (modern, kinda serious subject, best couple) (butches 💖)

- [ ] lily marble (modern) (lesbians at the gym, i wonder what they’re gonna do…)

- [ ] a room for two (modern)

- [ ] i’m in love with the villainess (isekai)

- [ ] snow thaw & love letter (modern)

- [ ] my dear lass (modern) (manhua)

- [ ] tamen de gushi (modern) (manhua)

- [ ] a love yet to bloom (modern) (fav currently) (nerdy book lesbians have my heart)

- [ ] goodbye, my rose garden (historical) (manwha)

- [ ] my new friend wasn’t what i was expecting (modern)

- [ ] my food seems to be very cute (modern supernatural) (manwha) (serious and broody femme lesbian vampire x puppygirl werewolf 🐶)

- [ ] beauty and the beast girl (supernatural)

- [ ] hizikan tautology (modern)

- [ ] ayaka is in love with hiriko (modern office)

- [ ] the moon on a rainy night (modern) (a bit more serious)

- [ ] how do we relationship (modern)

- [ ] her tale of shim-cheong (#1 historical yuri) (NOT TOXIC RELATIONSHIP BUT KIND OF, SORT OF, EVERYTHING AROUND THEM IS TOXIC) (manwha)

- [ ] composing spring in this room where cherry blossoms bloom (modern) (fucking depressing jesus christ)

- [ ] introverted gals get out (modern)

- [ ] baili jin among mortals (modern supernatural) (manhua)

- [ ] alcohol and ogre-girls (modern supernatural)

- [ ] maitsuki, niwatsuki, ooyatsuki (modern adult)

- [ ] hana ni arashi (modern)

- [ ] anemone wa netsu o obiru (modern)

- [ ] yamada to kase-san (modern)

- [ ] under one roof today (autobiographical) (these bitches gay, good for them)

- [ ] lillies, voice, wear wind (modern) (ace rep 💖)

- [ ] the two of them are pretty much like this (modern)

- [ ] onna tomodachi to kekkonshitemita (modern)

- [ ] teiji ni agaretara (modern)

- [ ] asagao to kase-san (modern)

- [ ] RUTHLESS (webtoon) (modern) (SHE’S VERY HORNY FOR THE MASC LESBIN)

- [ ] Fatal Kiss (webtoon) (modern supernatural)

- [ ] winter before spring (webtoon) (modern) (kinda depressing)

- [ ] The Greenhouse (tapas) (modern supernatural)

- [ ] Mistranslations (tapas) (modern)

- [ ] Sora & Haena (modern)

- [ ] Best Served Cold (modern) (toxic yuri!!!!)

- [ ] blooming sequence (modern)

- [ ] Getting to Know Grace (historical) (one of the best plots)

- [ ] After the curtain call (modern) (theatre lesbiabs)

- [ ] In my heart (modern)

- [ ] Kiss it goodbye (modern) (baseball masc)

- [ ] Moonlight Garden (historical fiction) (‼️‼️ extremely horny ‼️‼️)

- [ ] A Joyful Life (modern)

- [ ] ghosts of greywoods (historical)

- [ ] pulse (modern)

[theetherealbloom]

AS GOOD A REASON - CH. 1 | OBERYN MARTELL

Chapter One: The Devil's Trumpet

Summary: You, who has made it her life's work to get retribution on those who mistreated and harassed you when you were a child. The scars on your body are a physical reminder of the suffering you endured at the hands of abusers, and they also provide the fuel for your years-long quest for retribution.

Paring: Oberyn Martell x Fem!Reader

Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, MINORS GO AWAY, GoT is full of serious and harmful topics, mentions of SA, Rape (not the reader), Murder, Violence, Gore, War, Poison, Scars, Burns, Scratching, Su!c!de, AU, Age–Gap Romance, Angst, FLUFF, Eventual SMUT, Swearing, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, Blood, War, Religion References, Nudity, Domestic Abuse, Incest, Prostitution, Weapons, Fire, Horror, 

Word Count: 5k

A/N: Sooooooo… I don’t know a lot of Game of Thrones lore… so I ask for your patience and kindness when it comes to this fic, cause I know there will be some inconsistencies. I would stay up late at night, staring at the ceiling of my bed, constantly imagining that I could save Oberyn Martell from the Mountain. This is the story that I have been dreaming about for almost two years now. This fic is loosely based off The Glory on Netflix, it’s a show all about revenge which felt fitting for a Game of Thrones fic. There’s not a lot of Oberyn Martell yet in this chapter… but the next one for sure he’ll be there ;)

Song: as good a reason by Paris Paloma

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DRAGONSTONE, WESTEROS — 280 AC

From the moment your mother bartered you away to the Targaryens, you harbored no illusions about your worth in her eyes. Born to a minor lord, your father's coffers were never overflowing, and upon his death, your mother wasted no time in casting you aside like a discarded toy. It was a transaction as cold and calculated as any.

As a mere girl, you were thrust into servitude within the Targaryen household, your days filled with menial tasks and fleeting moments of respite. Your mother's indifference had left you with a bitter taste in your mouth, yet you dared not dwell on the past, for in the world of kings and queens, survival was a luxury afforded only to the cunning and the strong.

So, you learned to keep your head down, to swallow your pride and obey without question. In the grand tapestry of courtly life, you were but a humble thread, weaving your way through the intricacies of power and deceit with the practiced ease of one who knows their place in the hierarchy of the Seven Kingdoms.

News of the betrothal between Princess Elia Martell and Prince Rhaegar Targaryen spread like wildfire through the streets of King's Landing, igniting whispers of anticipation and speculation among the common folk. And when the day of their union finally arrived, the Great Sept of Baelor bore witness to a spectacle of unparalleled grandeur, as the noble houses of Westeros gathered to witness the marriage of two powerful dynasties.

In the wake of their wedding, the newlyweds departed for the ancient seat of Dragonstone, leaving a wake of excitement and intrigue in their wake. Within the stone walls of the island fortress, the air crackled with anticipation, as servants bustled about in a frenzy of preparation for the arrival of the newlyweds.

In the hushed corridors of Dragonstone, amidst the flurry of activity that heralded the arrival of the royal couple, you found yourself singled out from the bustling crowd of servants. With a sense of unease mingled with awe, you were ushered into the inner sanctum of Princess Elia's chambers, thrust into a position of unexpected privilege.

As you navigated the opulent surroundings, your heart pounded with a mixture of apprehension and determination. The eyes of the court seemed to follow your every move, their silent scrutiny a constant reminder of your newfound status.

Perhaps it was Princess Elia's keen observation or her innate sense of compassion that led her to notice the subtle cruelties inflicted upon you by your fellow servants. The older maids, with their twisted smiles and mocking jests, seemed to take pleasure in your misfortune, their actions a reminder of the harsh realities of life within the walls of Dragonstone.

Yet, in the presence of your new mistress, you found solace and sanctuary, a refuge from the cruelty of those who sought to belittle and demean you. With each passing day, as you tended to her needs with a quiet diligence, and you felt a sense of belonging that had long eluded you.

As Princess Elia's pregnancy progressed, you remained steadfast by her side, attending to her every need from dawn till dusk. With each passing day, the weight of responsibility rested heavily upon your shoulders, as you labored tirelessly to ensure her comfort and well-being.

When the time finally came for Elia to bring forth new life into the world, you stood beside her, a silent witness to the agony and ecstasy of childbirth. Her cries pierced the air like a dagger, each shriek a testament to her strength and determination. And though fear gripped your heart with each painful contraction, you remained steadfast in your resolve to see her through this trial.

With the arrival of Princess Rhaenys, the air seemed to shimmer with joy. As Elia cradled her newborn daughter in her arms, her eyes alight with love and exhaustion, you offered words of comfort and admiration.

"You have brought forth a beautiful child, Your Majesty," you murmured softly, your voice a gentle reassurance in the flurry of the birthing chamber. "You have done marvelously."

A weary smile graced Elia's lips as she gazed down at her precious daughter, her fingers tracing the delicate features of the babe's face. "Thank you for your kindness," she replied, her gratitude evident in every word.

And so, with the birth of Princess Rhaenys, a new chapter began in the lives of the Targaryen dynasty. As the babe was presented to Rhaegar's parents at court, the halls of Dragonstone echoed with the whispers of anticipation, a testament to the enduring legacy of House Targaryen.

As Queen Rhaella cradled her granddaughter with tender affection, her eyes alight with joy and pride, King Aerys the Second stood apart, his expression twisted with disdain. With a sneer of contempt, he recoiled from the child, his words dripping with venom.

"Smells Dornish," he remarked, his voice laced with disgust.

Your jaw clenched with suppressed anger at his callous words, a silent witness to the depths of his cruelty and madness. In that moment, as you beheld the scene unfolding before you, it became abundantly clear that the king's heart was as black as obsidian, his soul consumed by the darkness that lurked within.

TOURNEY AT HARRENHAL, THE YEAR OF FALSE SPRING, WESTEROS — 281 AC

At Harrenhal, nestled in the verdant heart of the Riverlands, Lord Walter Whent played host to a grand tournament, a celebration that spanned ten days and drew lords and ladies from across the Seven Kingdoms. Within the storied halls of the ancient castle, whispers of intrigue and ambition mingled with the clinking of goblets and the strains of music, each moment pregnant with the promise of both glory and treachery.

Amidst the throng of nobility, you moved with the silent grace of a shadow, your keen eyes and sharp ears attuned to every murmur and gesture. As a mere servant, you lingered on the periphery of the festivities, your presence all but unnoticed by the illustrious guests who reveled in the splendor of the occasion.

On the first night, as the Hall of a Hundred Hearths blazed with the warm glow of torchlight and the scent of roasted meats hung heavy in the air, you observed the comings and goings of the noble houses with a keen eye. From the stalwart Starks to the enigmatic Howland Reed, the northern lords mingled with their southern counterparts, their alliances and rivalries simmering beneath the surface like a pot ready to boil over.

Amidst the revelry, the figures of legend and lore moved with an aura of mystique and allure. Brandon Stark's easy charm drew Lady Ashara Dayne to the dance floor, while the shy Eddard Stark found himself swept up in the rhythm of the music. Benjen Stark's playful banter with his sister Lyanna elicited laughter and teasing, a glimpse into the bonds that bound the Stark siblings together.

And then, amidst the swirling throng of dancers, you caught sight of him: Prince Oberyn Martell, the embodiment of charm and charisma, his laughter ringing out like silver bells in the night. As he twirled Lady Ashara Dayne in a graceful waltz, his smile illuminated the room with its brilliance, casting a spell over all who beheld him.

But you knew better than to linger on such fleeting distractions, in the glittering spectacle of courtly intrigue, shadows were lurking in the corners, secrets waiting to be uncovered. And so, with a determined resolve, you turned your attention away from the beguiling prince and towards the task at hand, knowing that one must always be vigilant, lest they be consumed by the machinations of power and ambition.

The tourney at Harrenhal stretched across ten days, a spectacle of martial prowess and pageantry that captivated the hearts and minds of all who attended. In between the clash of swords and the thunder of hooves, champions emerged and legends were born, each contest a testament to the valor and skill of the knights who jousted and fought in the name of honor and glory.

From the seven-sided melee to the fierce competition of the joust, the tourney boasted a variety of events to entertain the crowds, including archery contests, axe-throwing competitions, and thrilling horse races. Yet, amidst the revelry and excitement, a sense of foreboding lingered in the air, a whisper of uncertainty that hinted at darker forces at play.

As the final moments of the tourney drew near, all eyes turned to Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, the golden-haired champion whose prowess in the joust had earned him victory over four knights of the Kingsguard. Yet, it was not his triumph in the lists that would become the stuff of legend, but rather the fateful decision he made in the aftermath of his victory.

Standing amidst the gathered nobility, you watched in disbelief as Prince Rhaegar bypassed his own wife, Princess Elia, and bestowed the crown of blue winter roses upon Lyanna Stark, the betrothed of Lord Robert Baratheon. This was the moment all smiles died. The air crackled with tension as murmurs of confusion and outrage rippled through the crowd, a clear sense of unease settling over the festivities like a shroud.

In that moment, as the fragile peace of the realm hung in the balance, you felt a chill run down your spine, a premonition of the chaos and bloodshed that would soon engulf the Seven Kingdoms. For in the blink of an eye, the seeds of war had been sown, and the fate of Westeros hung in the balance.

DRAGONSTONE, WESTEROS — 282 AC

In the dimly lit chamber of Dragonstone, the air was thick with anticipation as Princess Elia fought through the pain of labor, her strength waning with each passing moment. Beside her, you stood as a silent sentinel, offering words of encouragement and support as she braved the trials of childbirth once more.

With each command to push, Princess Elia's resolve hardened, her determination a beacon of hope amidst the darkness that threatened to engulf her. Yet, it was evident that her delicate health posed a formidable obstacle, her frailty a constant reminder of the challenges she faced.

And then, amidst the hushed whispers of the attending maesters, the sharp cry of a newborn babe pierced the air, a herald of new life amidst the shadows of uncertainty. With a ragged sigh of relief, Princess Elia's weary frame slumped backward, her brow glistening with sweat as she drew in ragged breaths.

"It's a son," the maester announced, his voice ringing with reverence as he presented the newborn prince to his exhausted mother.

A flicker of joy illuminated Princess Elia's weary features as she reached out trembling hands to cradle her newborn son, her touch gentle and reverent as she welcomed him into the world. With tears of gratitude glistening in her eyes, she pressed her lips to his tiny forehead, whispering words of love and devotion as she held him close to her heart. 

Prince Aegon was born.

KINGS LANDING, WESTEROS — 283 AC

Chaos erupted across the realm with the dawn of the new year, as news of Lyanna Stark's abduction by Prince Rhaegar Targaryen near Harrenhal spread like wildfire, igniting the flames of conflict between rival houses.

In the Vale of Arryn, the clash of steel and the cries of battle echoed through the mountain passes, as Lord Jon Arryn marshaled his forces to defend his homeland against the encroaching storm of war. Meanwhile, in the coastal city of Gulltown, the once-impregnable defenses crumbled under the relentless assault of Robert Baratheon and his forces, with the valiant Marq Grafton falling in the heat of battle.

With Gulltown secured, Robert Baratheon wasted no time in rallying his own banners to his cause, sailing swiftly to his ancestral seat of Storm's End to muster his forces for the coming conflict. Yet, even as he prepared for war, Robert's gaze turned to the stormlands, where the first major battle of the campaign awaited him.

At Summerhall, within the ruins of the ancient keep, Robert Baratheon faced his foes in a brutal clash of arms, his skill and valor turning erstwhile enemies into staunch allies. With Lords Grandison and Cafferen, as well as Silveraxe, pledging their fealty to his cause, Robert emerged victorious, his path to the north now clear as he prepared to join forces with Jon Arryn and the northern lords in their quest for vengeance.

All throughout the chaos of war, you bore witness to the dark machinations of the Mad King as he conspired to unleash destruction upon King's Landing itself. Ser Jaime Lannister, his white cloak billowing behind him, stood witness to the sinister plot hatched by the Alchemists' Guild, while the rest of the Kingsguard were scattered, their loyalty divided amidst the brewing conflict.

In the midst of this turmoil, Lord Qarlton Chelsted, Hand of the King, emerged as an unexpected ally, his friendship and concern for your safety a beacon of hope amidst the shadows of fear and uncertainty. Yet, as whispers of the king's treachery reached his ears, Lord Chelsted's conscience could no longer remain silent. With courage and conviction, he confronted the Mad King, pleading for mercy and reason in the face of madness.

But mercy was a foreign concept to Aerys Targaryen, his mind consumed by the flames of paranoia and tyranny. In a cruel and chilling display of power, he condemned Lord Chelsted to a fate worse than death, his screams echoing through the halls of the Red Keep as the flames consumed him.

In the wake of this horror, you found yourself thrust into the cruel embrace of the king's wrath, your cries of anguish falling upon deaf ears as the searing pain of the iron rod seared your flesh. Bound and helpless, you endured the agony of your punishment, a silent testament to the cruelty of those who held power over life and death.

When consciousness returned, it was to the gentle touch of Princess Elia, her soothing words a balm to your wounded soul. With tears of shame and gratitude, you sought to apologize for your weakness, but the kind princess silenced your protests with a gentle shush, her compassion a beacon of hope in the darkness.

"Rest now, dear child," she murmured, her voice a soft melody of reassurance. "You have tended to me with care and kindness. Now it is my turn to watch over you."

In the warmth of her embrace, you found solace amidst the pain, your heart heavy with the weight of your suffering but buoyed by the kindness of one who saw beyond the scars to the strength within. And as sleep claimed you once more, you whispered a silent prayer of thanks to the Seven for the gift of Princess Elia's compassion in a world consumed by cruelty and strife.

The rest of House Targaryen remained blissfully unaware of the dark schemes brewing within the walls of King's Landing. Queen Rhaella Targaryen, her eyes veiled to her husband's descent into madness, remained preoccupied with her own concerns, while Prince Rhaegar Targaryen marshaled his forces for the impending conflict.

In the depths of the city, hidden from prying eyes, the pyromancers of the Alchemists' Guild toiled in secrecy, their hands guided by the whispers of their mad king. Thousands of jars of wildfire, that volatile substance capable of unleashing unimaginable destruction, were meticulously placed in strategic locations throughout the city. From the shadows of the Dragonpit to the hallowed halls of the Great Sept of Baelor, and even beneath the very foundations of the Red Keep itself, the city of King's Landing was a powder keg awaiting the spark of war.

As the flames of conflict spread across the realm, each battle leaving its mark upon the land, the fate of the Seven Kingdoms hung in the balance. Amidst the chaos of the Stoney Sept, where narrow streets became blood-soaked battlegrounds, Prince Doran Martell grappled with the weight of his decision. Bound by duty to his king yet driven by love for his sister, Princess Elia, Doran reluctantly pledged his support to Prince Rhaegar's cause, his heart heavy with the knowledge of the dangers that lay ahead.

Following the fateful clash at the Trident, the Mad King's grip on power grew ever more tenuous. In a desperate bid to consolidate his rule, Aerys named Rossart, his favored pyromancer, as his new Hand of the King. Yet, his reign of terror would be short-lived, as the flames of rebellion engulfed the realm. With his wife, Queen Rhaella, and their young son, Prince Viserys, sent to the safety of Dragonstone, Aerys's grip on reality slipped further into the abyss, his madness driving him to unspeakable acts of cruelty and betrayal. Locked within the walls of King's Landing, Princess Elia Martell and her children, Rhaenys and Aegon, remained prisoners of a king consumed by paranoia and fear.

MAEGOR’S HOLDFAST, THE RED KEEP — 283 AC

Lord Tywin Lannister, who had stubbornly refused calls to arms from both the loyalists and the rebels until that point, appeared at the gates of King's Landing with an imposing army of twelve thousand men, mere hours before Eddard Stark would arrive. Lord Tywin professed his unwavering loyalty to King Aerys, and while Lord Varys, the cunning master of whispers, counseled Aerys to keep the gates locked, the king chose to heed the advice of the manipulative Grand Maester Pycelle, ordering the gates to be opened to Tywin's men. With the arrival of the forces from the westerlands, the city of King's Landing became a target for plunder and destruction.

As the realization that all was lost sank in, Aerys, driven by madness and desperation, commanded Rossart, a pyromancer, to unleash the hidden caches of wildfire throughout the city, hoping to reduce Robert's forces to mere "ashes and bones".

In a final act of cruelty, he tasked Ser Jaime Lannister, the eldest son of Lord Tywin and the sole remaining knight of his Kingsguard present in the city, with killing his own father and presenting his head as a gruesome gift. However, Jaime, torn between loyalty and reason, defied the mad king's command. Instead, he turned his blade on Rossart, knowing that Aerys would simply find another pyromancer to carry out his destructive plans. Realizing the imminent danger, Jaime rushed back to the Red Keep and put an end to Aerys' life in the throne room, just moments before soldiers from the westerlands stormed in.

Meanwhile, Ser Gregor Clegane, known for his massive size and brutal nature, accompanied by Ser Amory Lorch, made their way into Maegor's Holdfast. Their mission was to eliminate the remaining members of the royal family, solidifying Robert's claim to the throne and demonstrating House Lannister's complete abandonment of the Targaryens.

The resounding crash of the door being forcefully shattered reverberated through the room, punctuated by the shattering of glass and the piercing screams that filled the air. You, trapped in that room, could do nothing but bear witness to the horrific scene unfolding before your eyes. Gregor Clegane callously hurled you towards the fireplace, the searing heat scorching your skin, as he believed you would perish amidst the flames. Bleeding and disoriented, you lay on the floor, your vision blurred by the pain that engulfed you.

In the middle of pandemonium, you watched in horror as Princess Rhaenys, a mere toddler, was dragged from beneath her father's bed by the monstrous Clegane. The screams of the innocent child echoed through the room as she was mercilessly stabbed over fifty times. Aegon, Elia's son and the last hope for the Targaryen line, suffered an equally gruesome fate as Gregor brutally smashed his head against a wall. With Aegon's blood and brains still staining his hands, Gregor proceeded to rape Elia and ultimately ended her life by crushing her skull. 

As Gregor and Amory callously departed, their hands stained with the blood of their heinous acts, they paid no heed to your crumpled form, assuming you were dead. Silently, you feigned death, your battered body lying motionless on the floor. The sound of their heavy footsteps slowly faded away, their hearts devoid of remorse, as they never once faltered or looked back.

With fresh burns scorching your body, the searing pain and stinging sensations intensified, causing you to vomit on the side of the bedroom, overwhelmed by the horrifying sight before you. The people you held dear, the ones who reciprocated your affection, were now lost and lifeless, torn away from you forever.

In a state of despair, you crawled and stumbled, driven by an unknown force or perhaps a touch of divine intervention. Miraculously, you managed to navigate the treacherous secret passages of the sacked city, escaping the clutches of danger. The reason for your survival remained a mystery, lost in the chaos that surrounded you. Perhaps it was your unwavering determination or the small flicker of hope that compelled you to keep moving forward, to honor Elia's memory and the children who were denied the chance of a life.

You couldn't recall how you found yourself on the shores near Blackwater Bay, gazing out at the vast expanse of the Narrow Sea. Kneeling in the cool, wet sand, you felt the water recede, stinging your burns and prompting an uncontrollable urge to scratch, causing fresh blood to flow. Your bruised stomach throbbed with pain.

Exhausted from the relentless pursuit of survival, you yearned for respite, for an end to the constant struggle. Slowly, you began to crawl toward the ocean, knowing that the cold embrace of the water would bring solace, relieving the incessant itch of your scars. What more could you desire? This, perhaps, was the only path left.

But you couldn't bring yourself to do it. Standing at the precipice, you let out a piercing cry, releasing your anguish into the air. With every ounce of strength, you struck your arms, the very arms that bore the visible reminders of your torment.

In that moment, you chose to defy the darkness that threatened to consume you, refusing to succumb to despair. At the edge of the world, you stood tall, your cries echoing across the empty beach, a testament to your resilience and determination to get revenge.

BRAAVOS, ESSOS — 287 AC

In the ancient city of Braavos, where secrets whispered through the narrow alleys and the canals flowed with mysterious tales, you found solace amid the chaos. Once a believer in the gods, you had come to realize that their existence was nothing more than a facade, a comforting illusion for the masses.

Having scraped together enough coin, you secured passage on a ship departing from Blackwater Bay, leaving behind a turbulent past and seeking refuge in the anonymity of Braavos. The city welcomed you with its vibrant streets and diverse inhabitants, offering a chance at a new beginning.

From baker to cleaner, nurse to animal keeper, and occasionally even a tutor to minor Ladies, you took on any job that would sustain you. Your tireless work ethic caught the attention of the nobles, who saw value in your dedication and entrusted you with their precious steeds. However, the privilege of working for the Lords came at a cost, as some would cross boundaries and attempt to take advantage of your vulnerability. Yet, you stood strong, extracting your payment and moving on.

Throughout the years, you meticulously saved every coin, seeking out the teachings of various assassin guilds and skilled swordsmen. Disguised as a boy, you delved into the secrets of High Valyrian, honed your swordsmanship, and mastered the art of poisons. The guilds taught you to discern truth from lies, and to control your facial expressions, laying the groundwork for your vengeful plans.

As you went about your duties in the bustling stables, you tried to steal moments to study the intricate notes on potions, mumbling the descriptions to yourself. Suddenly, a sharp smack landed on the back of your head, causing you to wince in pain. "Quit your foolishness and focus on your work!" your employer reprimanded.

"Don't be too hard on her! Look at all the burn scars on her legs and arms," one of the older stableboys interjected, coming to your defense. Gritting your teeth, you offered a quick apology, knowing that it was best to comply with your employer's wishes.

Resuming your tasks, you discreetly tucked away the notes into your pocket, their pages smudged with the grime of your surroundings. Your determination burned within you, fueled by the scars that adorned your body, a constant reminder of the pain and suffering that fueled your quest for revenge.

BRAAVOS, ESSOS — 294 AC

The scent of salt hung heavy in the air, you had grown up immersed in their language and customs. Fuelled by a thirst for knowledge, you clandestinely absorbed every morsel of information you could gather about the events unfolding in Westeros. Alongside your studies, you dedicated yourself to the art of combat, honing your skills with weapons and tirelessly toiling in a variety of jobs that allowed you to pursue your clandestine education.

As the boat that would carry you away from Braavos was being prepared, one of the enigmatic faceless men, who had taken an interest in your journey due to the scars that adorned your flesh, approached you. His hooded eyes locked onto yours as he inquired, "Are you prepared for what lies ahead?"

A mixture of determination and uncertainty danced in your gaze as you responded, "They seek servants for the Red Keep. The time is drawing near, and I must gather further intelligence on a select few. It appears that more than just the Lannisters are entangled in this web of power." The faceless man nodded, acknowledging the complexity of the situation.

With a silent understanding, the boat began its departure, carrying you across the waters of the Narrow Sea. Standing at the bow, your eyes fixated on the horizon, a sense of purpose and anticipation surged within you as you braced yourself for the unknown challenges that awaited.

RED KEEP, KING'S LANDING, WESTEROS — 298 AC

In the hallowed halls of the Red Keep, where whispers of power and deceit echoed through the stone, you had spent years serving as a humble maid, donning long-sleeved dresses regardless of the season that enveloped Westeros.

Maintaining a low profile was imperative to the success of your clandestine plan. As you arranged your quarters, a haven of secrecy, you opened a worn journal containing a meticulously compiled dossier. Every page adorned with detailed sketches and meticulous notes on the individuals implicated in the tragic demise of Princess Elia. Royals, lords, and ladies from every corner of Westeros found their place within those ink-stained pages. Their routines, preferences, lovers, and dark histories were meticulously chronicled, forming a tapestry of knowledge that would fuel your pursuit of vengeance.

Locking your quarters behind you, you ventured into the mist-shrouded gardens, a white datura flower delicately cradled in your hand. As you spun the delicate bloom, the devil's trumpet, between your fingers, a solemn chant escaped your lips, carried away by the ethereal fog. "Anyone who inflicts harm upon their neighbor shall bear the same injury."

An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. A fracture for a fracture. The concept of just retribution swirled in your mind, the very embodiment of justice. Yet, a subtle smirk tugged at the corners of your lips. Was such fairness truly fitting? Was it not too generous, too even-handed? After all, fairness is a fleeting concept in this treacherous game, isn't it?

TAGLIST:

@christinamadsen

[bunicate]

nanami incest….. dies instantly (/pos sooooooo very pos.)

I’m horribly behind in the anime but!!! Oughhsgshs very serious and intelligent, actively looks out for mc and accommodates for mcs flaws!! Is very punctual and always leaves work on time (unless shit is going horribly horribly wrong or he is physically blocked from being on time) should have a cute little housewife to come home to who also happens to be his daughter I think it would be good for him (and me tbh)

0-0 I think kento having a daughter-wife is da best thing 4 him, srsly ! in my mind, the prospects of being in a relationship is just such a trying thing . his daughter however, who jus so happens to like playing house is much easier to commit to. cuz nothing rlly comes close to how a daddy luvs his sweet girl <3 also m jus grossly obsessed wit daddy kento coming home 2 his girl cooking nd instead of relaxing like he should, he’d rather make u cum on his mouth instead :[ ur not the best cook anyway hehe

[dgaftilwedie]

SCOTT PILGRIM TAKES OFF WAS FUCKING NUTS AND I WANNA BE ANNOYING N TALK ABT IT BC I LOVE SCOTT PILGRIM SO MUCH!!!!!!!!

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT OBVS XD

OKAY SO??? THE FACT THAT THEY LITERALLY SET UP THE FIRST EPISODE LIKE IT WAS GONNA BE JUST LIKE THE COMICS N THEN SCOTT "DIED"????? literally had me questioning fucking EVERYTHING i was watching that episode with the most quizzical look on my face?? also the fucking funeral scene was hysterical bc the way rammy n knives were abt to have a verbal face-off n envy's bitchass shows up n steals the whole show?? i have such a love-hate relationship with her.............

also lucas lee is fucking adorable and i love him :33 rammy becoming friends with roxie n making up with her after everything was something i really needed to see. cuz like for as much as i loved the movie n the comics, i feel like they could've done their relationship so much better. like seeing ramona take responsibility for hurting roxie made me so happy and im so glad they got a redemption arc.

ROXIE IS LITERALLY ME BTW??? her whole interaction with ramona n kim at the end kf the episodr was so silly N THE LEG LOCK HELLO????? also the way she walked off singing the HAMSTER DANXE SONG I LOCE HER

the toddlace thing was also so unexpected but holy shit?? i loved it. bi todd has been my fav headcanon for YEARSSSS and seeing jt happen right in front of my eyes?? WATCHING THAT EPISODE WAS SUCH A TRIP THO I CAN'T STOP QUOTING WALLACE'S "LINES? TRAILER?" BITS BC THEY'RE SO FUNNY

uhmmmmm what elseeeee OH YEAH young neil is a fucking goof n i love him, i really like that gideon (gordon ig 🙄) became like this not evil guy who just lived with julie n kicked it with lucas. the old scott stuff kinds fricked with me but i think it's cool that he became chill with the twins

LMFAOAO THAT SCENE AT THE END WHERE SCOTT'S TRTING TK FIGJRE OIT WHY HE CAN'T KISS RAMONA N HE TRIES TO FIGHT THE TWINS AND THEY'RE LIKE "our robot says we become bros in the future, so we have no intention of fighting you. see ya bro ;)" WAS SO SILLY

obligatory matt mention i love him he's so dumb i love that he took over gideon's entire empire only to turn around and change his mind :3 glad he got his broadway moment....... silly pirate headass

knives n stephen becoming the best brother/sister duo ever was so dope bc like. knives had someone to look up to n make music with n they had a lot of chemistry both personality wise n musically wise

my only critique is that i wanted more lisa ;^; i know she probably would've been out of place but it would've been cool if kim mentioned her to ramona and ramona interviewed her just like she did with her exes yknow :P she was one of my fav characters in the comics n she wasn't in the movie AT ALL so i was hoping she would've appeared in the anime, but alas 😞😞 i also kinda wanted to see where kim's love life went...... i know she's not the focus but she had undeniable chemistry with knives and that moment with roxie... i love that she's totally very queer and open to the idea of experimenting with girls n i wish that would've been expanded upon like how todd n wallace had their moment :33

other than that, i LOVED the anime. i love how we got baited into thinking it was just like the comics and i love what was done with it :3 it was such a goofy show and a lot of it was so jaw-droppingly surprising that i couldn't believe it, but it also had some really sweet, serious, n heart-warming moments which is something i really appreciate in a show :33 it's hard to keep watching something for so long but i binged the show in one day xD i'd give it a solid 9/10 (deducting points just for the sake of what i think was missing and how i don't recommend it for like "beginner" fans)

oki rant concluded!!!!!!! ^___^ there's so much more i wanna say but this is already sooooooo long as it is xD

[merakiui]

I know we're on the magical girl au brainrot (and I'm LOVING it) but I've been listening to Reneé Rapp's music a lot lately and.... fem Riddle on my mind...... >-<

I was listening to Pretty Girls and picturing the setting with Riddy aaaaa so much potential and ideas....

Alsoooo She Likes a Boy !! That song is SOOOOO her too! The lyrics is just perfect

"She says something about liking his height Suddenly worried about mine" "with a pretty face Strawberry lip gloss oh it's wasted On this dumb boy who likes the chase But why am i so angry in the first place? Why am i hurting" YEAH YEAH THAT'S SO FEM RIDDY CODED,,,,

So yeah that's all I wanted to say,,, I love her sm (⁠｡>ω<｡⁠)♡

I absolutely love "She Likes a Boy"!!!!! It's so good!!! That song and "Pretty Girls" (which I must thank you for introducing to me because I will be playing it on loop now >:D) are sooooooo fem Riddle AAAAAAAAAAA. OTL OTL there's something so painful about Riddle pining for something or someone always out of her reach. T_T she deserves the world. I would forfeit all of my possessions to fem Riddle. She has my heart in her hands. I love her. ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ഒ

Fwb with her would be so 😵‍💫💖 just girl besties being girl besties (kissing and fucking and spending lots of time together that it feels like you're dating). The "and they were roommates" trope with her!!!! Riddle who loves you so much but wishes you'd stop bringing all of these men back for one-night stands when she knows you deserve so much better (her). That sleazy businessman is no good. That sleazy guy who definitely seemed like a criminal is also no good. That obnoxious guy who won't shut up is definitely no good. That guy who looked like the sleazy criminal is no good. They're all no good in her eyes! >_< obviously you should be with her instead. She'll do everything they can't and won't do.

And of course this is true! She's so serious about this. Also also,,,,, not that it matters (it definitely does), but if you're with her you'll always cum, always be satisfied in and out of the bedroom, have clear skin, happiness all the time, sunny skies, etc etc. ✨✨

[goatcheesecak3]

I read your Gavin Ellis fic and I’m so in love with him I wanna keep him in my pocket.

I wanted to request a fic (f! Or nb! Reader) where the reader is a close friend of Gavin’s and Ray’s. At a party, the reader meets someone and starts dancing with them (maybe even plans to go home with them), and Gavin has a high-key jealous moment about it.

Or, a second (angstier) idea: The reader saves Gavin from getting thrown off the roof, but gets really really injured in the process of stopping the cop.

Jealous

Gavin Ellis X F!Reader

Fic type: fluff

Warnings: brief mentions of drug use, alcohol and physical altercation.

Summary: after Gavin has ignored you all week, you decide to try and make him jealous.

A/N thank you so much for your request!! I love writing about Gavin because he's just sooooooo??????? i've gone with your first idea, but I definitely want to do the more angsty fic in the future! I think i just need to get better at writing how Gavin would act in more serious situations first teehee <3 also, for my male readers, i pinky promise I'll get the m!reader versions of my gavin fics up within the next few days, i've just been trying to get some new stuff out since i've been slacking with fics in general lately

The music was loud, the drugs were plentiful and the atmosphere was electric. Gavin’s parties were always eventful, the lack of rules usually lead to some sort of drama. So far this night some drunk arsehole had already jumped off the roof in an attempt to impress some girls (y/n couldn’t figure out what was more surprising; the fact that he only twisted his ankle, or the fact that the girls were actually amused). Y/n, a close friend of Gavin’s sat on a sofa, quietly sipping a beer next to Ray, another close friend.

“Do you want to go and see what Gav’s up to?” Ray asked.

Y/n scoffed at this, she and Gavin had been having a somewhat weird patch in their friendship. After drunkenly making out a week prior on a particularly crazy night out, things had been weird between them. Y/n had tried to brush it off and forget it ever happened, but Gavin seemed to be avoiding her.

“If the prick wants to talk to me he can come over here, I’m not gonna chase after him.” She rolled her eyes.

“But… and don’t take this the wrong way,” Ray gulped, not wanting to trigger her short temper, “you’re the one that came to his party”

With a raised eyebrow and an all too defensive tone, y/n responded, “I’m only here to steal booze and maybe take someone else home. What about that guy, David? The one on your footie team? He’s not half bad looking”

Ray sighed defeatedly. He hated when he got caught between y/n and Gavin’s drama, it was like putting up with his mother and stepdad all over again.

“I think David’s in the kitchen, just, please don’t make things weird, y/n, I like being friends with both of you”

y/n’s face softened.

“I promise I’ll only make things weird for Gav, never you though Ray” she smiled playfully, placing an affectionate and friendly peck on his cheek before arising from the sofa and making her way to the kitchen.

Y/n’s seemingly foolproof plan to hook up with David was in action, as she stood in the doorway to the cramped kitchen making eyes at him across the room, smiling seductively. David wasn’t necessarily the sort of guy y/n would usually go for, but he would do, and most importantly, it would serve Gavin right for being such a dick all week.

“Well, well, well, I didn’t know Miss y/l/n would be here tonight, to what do I owe the pleasure?” David smirked, leaning against the doorframe nonchalantly.

“well you can start with a jack and coke” she grinned back, biting her lip and laying it on as thick as possible.

“your wish is my command”

y/n knew this dance, she’d done it plenty of times before. Twirl your hair, bat your eyelashes, pretend to give a shit about football, grind a little on the dancefloor, and before you know it, you’ve got yourself a nice no-strings-attached stress reliever. Piece of cake.

“wow and they let you have the penalty kick? That’s soooo funny” She feigned laughter, touching his arm lightly.

Tired from pretending that David was at all interesting to talk to, y/n pulled him towards the front room, where people had began to dance. Leant up against a back wall, watching bitterly and ignoring his friends, was Gavin. He’d worn his favourite top, a tight red shirt with the top few buttons undone – a look which y/n had complimented him on before. Sure, he’d been playing hard to get since the last time they saw eachother, but he was hoping that at the night of his party y/n would see how he was dressed and be all over him. Instead, however, to his absolute disdain y/n had completely ignored him and was now dancing with some jackass from his footie club who spent most games on the bench. He tried not to let himself care, but his blood boiled when he saw David whisper something in y/n’s ear.

“so… am I gonna get lucky tonight?” he slurred, drunk and sloppy at this point.

“ugh stop talking, you’re ruining this for me” y/n rolled her eyes. David was attractive enough, but in all honesty his voice was a tad bit grating, and his drunken pawing at her body as they danced was far from sexy.

The pair continued to dance, David too drunk to get the not-so-subtle hint to stop blabbering, as he kept rambling about something that didn’t matter. Gavin, who was practically seething with rage and jealousy at this point, finally decided to do something about it when he saw David’s hand trailing it’s way down to y/n’s ass. Before anyone knew what happening, David had been aggressively shoved to the floor.

“I told you y/n’s off limits” Gavin spat.

“Hey what the fuck is your problem, mate?” David groaned, pulling himself up off the floor.

Y/n put her palm to her face, practically mortified.

“Jesus Christ, Gav, calm your tits” she scolded.

Gavin didn’t stick around to see if David was okay, instead he grabbed y/n by the arm and pulled her out to the garden to talk.

“Gav, what the f-”

“why did you do that?”

“do what?”

“that! In there, parading yourself around with that dipstick like I’m not right in front of you” he spat.

y/n had to hold herself back from laughing in his face, “why the hell do you give a shit? You haven’t said a word to me all week, are we even mates anymore?”

Gavin responded in a way which y/n could have never predicted. Gavin Ellis, the cocky, loudmouth arsehole who had an answer for everything had been rendered speechless. His mouth hung open for a minute, as he blinked slowly, eyebrows furrowing and his brain overheating.

“o-of course we’re still- what, were you actually upset by that?” he finally managed.

“uh, no shit I was upset by it. So what, we make out at the pub and all of a sudden I’m a stranger? Pardon me, but I thought after all these years of friendship I would at least get a heads up before you decide to drop me” y/n rolled her eyes, pulling a cigarette out of her pocket and lighting it. Despite her somewhat feisty exterior, she didn’t like confrontation, it made her anxious, and so she wanted to keep her hands busy.

“DROP YOU?!” Gavin spluttered, “Why would I- Y/n, I would never drop you, I just felt like I should keep my distance because-“ he stopped himself.

“Because what?”

“C’mon y/n, don’t make me say it” Gavin bit his lip and looked away nervously.

“Because what?!”

“Because I’ve got a thing for you, alright?! And I didn’t wanna make an dick out of myself!”

“so… you ignored me altogether?” she asked, her demeanour switching to one of kindness, while still being amazed at Gavin’s stupidity.

“look, it seemed like a better idea in my head”

“I’m sure it did”  y/n chuckled, “I can’t say I’ve never considered it, y’know, me ‘n you”

“Really?!” Gavin grinned, his face turning every so slightly pink, “so… do I have a chance?”

Y/n smiled, biting the inside of her lip.

“yeahhhhh, alright. Fuck it, let’s give this a go. But no more playing it cool, and no more drunken nights at the pub, if you’re really serious about me, I wanna be treated like a lady”

Gavin was practically cheesing like an excited kid at this point, never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined things going this well.

“How about I pick you up on Friday for steak and a film?” he winked.

“I think that sounds like a plan” y/n giggled.

As a rule, y/n never kissed on a first date, let alone before it even happened, but she was feeling adventurous, and fuck it, that boundary had already been crossed a week prior. She leaned back on the wall of the house, and placed her hand gently onto the nape of Gavin’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

The kiss was surprisingly gentle, Gavin’s hands finding their way around y/n’s waist and holding her tight.

“just FYI,” he mumbled into the kiss, “now that we’re a thing, if I ever catch another bloke dancing with you like that again I’ll deck the cunt” he chuckled.

“Is it bad that I find that hot?” y/n giggled

“not for me it isn’t”