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justrainandcoffee · 8 months ago

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For a better future (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc)

He could never choose death over her.

Alfie Solomons x Rose Coldwell (ofc) Masterlist

Summary: Alfie wakes up after Tommy shot him. After the hell he went through. After the hell she went through. It's a warm morning but he doesn't open his eyes yet. Alfie prefers to enjoy the sounds and smells around him first. He's back to life for her. He promised her a future together and he's now ready to give her, the best future of all. Starting with the fact that he's alive.

Warnings: None.

Words: 1.8k || continuation of this fic.

1926.

When Alfie was born 38 years ago, Rose was already there. She was 87 days old. She was little baby wrapped in a white blanket in her mother's arms.

Alfie decided to born around 3am when everyone was sleeping and his mother's screams woke up the neighbours who run to help her. One hour later he was already part of this world. Alfie was a big healthy baby.

Neither of them were concious at all of what happened but the morning, while his mother was resting trying to recover from his birth and Rose's mother was there to clean Mrs. Solomons' sheets and towels, both babies were resting in the same crib. That day, his first morning on Earth, Rose was already there.

And 38 years later, she is still there.

He can smell the breeze. Mix of rain and sea. Mix of salt and sun.

Alfie is back. A bullet sent him to hell but the devil sent him back to Earth. He's back because while he was still in a limbo some words reached his ears.

"Don't leave me."

And there is no man on Earth, no supernatural entity who can stop him from helping his wife.

"Don't leave me."

That wasn't a request, it was her begging for him. It was her crying over his chest, imploring him not to die.

He could feel her. He could feel her tears and hear her sobs. Her soft hands touching his face, whispering lovely words. He could feel her sadness. But he couldn't do anything about it. He was less than a man. He was more dead than alive. And his wife was dying with him.

Only when he couldn't bear with it anymore, Alfie's brain could make his body respond to her words. Although it was just his hand squeezing hers.

How easy it could have been if he had allow death to embrace him. Sweet death, helping him to forget all his physical pain. But how sad at the same time.

Alfie doesn't dare to open his eyes. Not yet. He breathes deeply and the let the breeze fill his nostrils.

He knows one of his eyes is covered in bandages. Alfie fears that he won't be able to see with it anymore, but it really doesn't matter. His cheek hurts like hell. He feels like it's burning and the fire is inside his face.

Far away in the distance he can hear the seagulls, probably they're eating near the seashore. Fucking seagulls. He can hear voices on the other side of where he is. Probably nurses or maids. Along with them, there's a dog barking and he knows that's Cyril. He could recognise his barking anywhere. Alfie smiles for the first time.

And yet his eyes are still closed.

He hears the door open and he pretends to be sleeping. He doesn't want to speak yet. After few seconds, the door closes again.

Alfie remembers the incidents that lead him to where he was now. The sunny day, the beach, the sea in front of him and Thomas Shelby shooting him. It was his own fault, Alfie knows that and he paid for it. What he never wanted was to her suffer because of him.

There's a new voice now. Not behind the door but next to him. A very familiar voice.

"No! No! Don't! Alfie! Alfie!"

That's when he opens his eyes. It's still the sunrise. He can see the sky through the open window. It's a mix of orange, yellow, pink and blue and some white clouds. It's a beautiful view. But he barely watches it. His sight is fixed on her.

She's curled up, embracing herself and her body is shaking, whispering his name in her sleep. She's crying too.

"Alfie, please… don't die."

"Shhh… it's over. Rosie, it's over," his hand is stroking her head. "Rosie, wake up, luv."

First, she calms herself. She's still sleeping but she's not having nightmares. Alfie keeps stroking her head.

He could never choose death over her.

Her hair is a mess and her dress is crumpled. Signs that she never left his side. Of course not. The most loyal person he knows. And she's his wife.

Alfie touches her face. His fingers tracing a path across her forehead and nose. And then her cheeks and jawline. Why die and private himself of having her a lot of more years? His fingertip touch the tip of her nose. Alfie smiles looking at her.

If he could only describe in one world what that she means to him…

When Alfie woke up from his first nap ever, 38 years ago, Rose was still sleeping and the baby he was had his eyes on her. He was lying on his back with his little head facing her. Impossible to know what he thought, if he thought at all, but the baby looked at her. And for a few and quiet minutes, after she woke up as well, they looked at each other. That was the first time they saw each other.

Suddenly, she opens her eyes and stares at him. Confused. Is it a dream? Is her mind playing with her?

"Rosie," he says.

She is still cautious. Slowly, her hand touches his healthy cheek and he puts a hand over hers.

"Oh my god… Alfie."

It's not a dream.

He sits on bed and carefully she sits on him hiding her face on his neck. His arms are around her, like preventing her to go anywhere. Alfie is hugging her tightly and her hands are clutching his pajamas shirt.

"I'm sorry," she says. Her face is still against him. "I'm sorry, Al."

"Sorry for what, sweetheart?"

"For being mad at you. I-I thought I was going to lose you. I thought you're going to die and I could never have had the chance to apologize. Never… Al-"

"It's okay, Rosie. Not your fault, luv, it wasn't your fault. And you were right, as always. Except that ya believed I was going to die. Fuckin hell, luv, dying it's not in my immediate agenda. Ya know, that. Leaving 'ere alone… no. Never."

Alfie knows what she's talking about. Their biggest argument ever. When Rose knew about his pact with Luca Changretta they argued strongly and lead them to not talk to each other for days. In fact, when Tommy shot him, they weren't in peace. So, he understands her pain. Too much love between them and it could have ended with one of them dead and without the chance of saying sorry.

"My love for you is stronger than a bullet, sweetheart."

"I'm sorry," she repeated.

"I'm sorry, too, Rosie. Never again, right, pet? I promise it won't happen again, luv," he says and she nods.

Alfie closes his eyes again but this time is to kiss her. The muscles in his face hurt but he doesn't care. If that the price to pay for kissing his wife after his almost death, then let it be. Her hands are on his shoulders and Alfie can feel her fingers pressing on him. He also feels her tears wetting his own face.

"Rosie…" he says pulling apart from her, to look at the woman in her eyes.

"I was there, Al. I saw you fall over the sand. I saw the fucking bastard standing up… fuck! I always hated him! I saw your almost lifeless body. You were cold… And the bang. I hear the bang in my dreams. Every fucking night. In my nightmares I see you falling, your blood in my hands. Sometimes you die there. If… if you- if you have died, I was ready to kill him. And you know that."

"Yeah, I know that..."

He knows she's not lying. Those aren't just empty words. Alfie knows that it's true because no one knows Rose the same way he knows her. Because no one else except them know about the kind of love they have for each other. Every person in his path knows what are the consequences of saying something about his wife. But few know that it's the same with her. Nor Polly Gray, nor Arthur Shelby, nor his fucking cousin, nor Lizzie… no one could be able to stop Rose to put a bullet in Thomas Shelby's brain. He, Alfie, taught her how to shot. Only an idiot could underestimate his wife.

"…But you don't have to now. Because I'm back. I reborn. I can't protect you from your nightmares, luv, but I can do my best to help you to erase them."

Alfie caresses her face again. She's tired maybe not physically but mentally.

"I love you," she says.

"Me too, luv."

He kisses her again and she reciprocates. It's slow and intimate. Alfie doesn't know how many days passed since the cunt shot him, but it feels like a century, since he could kiss her that way. Savouring her, feeling her, smelling her. Alfie pushes Rose to him to have her closer to his body. Not longer after, the morning finds them making love again. Smiling at each other, not just because they love each other. But also because they're alive.

38 years ago, after helping to clean her neighbour's house, Mrs. Coldwell went to see her daughter. It was strange that Rose wasn't crying demanding to be feed. To her suprise she found her still sleeping but the newborn baby wasn't. He was awake and in silence. Mrs. Coldwell felt like he was guarding Rose. Stupid to think because Alfie was less than 10 hours of life. But that was she thought.

It's not longer the sunrise. The sky is completely blue and the sun is shining. Alfie had already taken his pills and had his first breakfast in a long time. The drugs are making effect, he's a bit dizzy now but awake. At his side Rose is sleeping against him. His arm is around her. Protecting her. Guarding her. His, sweet and yet strong, Rosie. Alfie strokes her hair, she's sleeping peacefully with no nightmares. They will return, sooner or later, Alfie knows a bit about having nightmares after a traumatic episode. But for now she sleeps.

The sound of the waves give him the rest of the calm he needs.

Something good is about to come. Alfie doesn't know what yet. But there's something there… he can feel it.

Down in the beach a mother and her daughter are having a day at the sea. They are playing and collecting seashells. It won't last, she has to go to work again but the day is too nice to not be there with her two year old baby. A childish laugh can be heard for all over the beach.

"Come here!! Leave that crab, alone!! We have to go, Allie!!" the mother yells before grabbing her daughter's hand and walk towards the building where they're living.

But Alfie doesn't hear the name. Drugs finally did they work and now both Solomons are sleeping.

But he's right, the best is about to come.

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons x ofc #tom hardy #peaky blinders #alfie x rose #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons fanfic

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neewtmas · 1 year ago

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24 days of Appreciation

DAY 2

Welcome to the second day of appreciation this month, where we shine a spotlight each day on those we appreciate in this fandom!

If you want to submit someone or something (for more info read here), you can do so here or just message me! If you wanna stay anonymous, either tell me or submit on anon.

Appreciation from me:

Today, I wanna appreciate @waitingforthesunrise, who might just be the absolut sweetest person in this entire fandom (case in point: the ask you sent me asking to submit me🥹). Your positivity is unmatched, and your presence is light and warmth, the sunrise personified basically. You were so very nice to me when I joined this fandom and made me feel welcome even though I really struggle to build friendships, online just as much as irl. I always read your poetry, even though poetry is not really my thing, but I admire you so much for being able to write it so beautifully. The poem you wrote for me some months ago? That still hangs on my picture wall. Also, remember the one time you made fanart for my locklyle fic??? Literal best thing ever. And now I always think of you when I see a pretty sunrise/sunset. ILY🧡🧡

Appreciation from others (submissions):

from @novelizt: Hi, I'm Liz! Since this season is all about sharing, I'd like to share my appreciation for a few people that made this fandom feel like family to me. I'm not really sure if there's a limit to how many people I can mention, but the list is long so I'll stick to my ride or dies First of all, @tangledinlove who made me fall in love with Anthony Lockwood. Your kindness basically cemented my place in this crazy family. You're the loveliest, and I always round back to reading your fics when I need a pick-me-up. Your words are forever tattooed into my brain. On top of that, you are one of my favorite persons I've met on this app, and I hope you know how much I appreciate you. Next, @kiyasoup and @avdioblisss who I basically share braincells with. Any notif from y'all means my day will be good. I don't know what else to say other than I love you and I hope all your dream come true 💙 Also, @mitskiswift99 who always makes me blush and sob and shriek. If I had the power to teleport and hug you, I would! My Swiftie soulmate, I love you dearly 💙 Last, but definitely not least, the feeders of my delusions, @lewkwoodnco @bella-rose29 @ukulelevillainwrites and @atlabeth !! I used to read your fics and think "damn, they're so cool" and now we're moots jsnhs Some days, I still feel like I'm dreaming. Your fics are my fuel for life. Please keep doing what you're doing. 70 years from now, I'll still be reblogging your works 💙 Yeesh, I really don't know how to keep things short. I just have a lot of love for this fandom, and I hope everyone enjoys their holidays. Lots of love <3

Show your appreciation and submit someone or something here :)

#24 days of appreciation #lockwood & co #lockwood and co

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infintiandbeyond · 2 years ago

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Marigolds don’t taste like honey || Bakugou x GN!Reader

Prompt: Reader catches hanahaki disease for Bakugou. Will he figure it out before it's too late?

This is my first real completed fanfiction work. Please be nice. I tried to make this gender neutral and non discriminate so everyone can enjoy. Constructive criticism is welcomed. No beta so if there are mistakes please let me know. Thank you and enjoy.

Warning: Angst, happy ending, mentions of blood, near death experiences, self-sacrificing behavior, oblivious boys, tears and cursing.

Word count : 5.5k

Read this on AO3 as well

--------------------------

You and Katsuki had been friends for exactly 7 years, 11 months and 29 days.

You were on the verge of spending 8 years by the side of the rudest, self-centered, egotistical megalomaniac and could not think of any other way you would have rather spent your time. Because no matter how much Katsuki pushes your buttons, it's hard to hate the love of your life. And it’s moments like today that make you realize just how gone you are for your best friend.

You glanced around at the pieces of marigolds scattered around and the splotches of blood that stained your favorite Dynamight graphic tee as you gaze at the last few moments of the sunrise over the horizon. You reached your hand up and brushed against the trunk of the tree that had been here for years. Childish scratches had been carved into the trunk.

Katsuki + (Y/n)

Well…at least he won’t be alone. You looked at the brightening sky one last time and whispered your final goodbye as the heaviness in your body finally caught up with you, closing your eyes to the sound of firecrackers in the distance.

___________

A day ago…

“Mina, I really don't think this is a good idea.” You threw yourself onto the bed inside your apartment, suppressing the urge to hide inside the closet and never see the light of day again.

“(Y/n), think how romantic it would be for you to confess to Bakugou on the anniversary of the day you guys became friends. I can't think of a more adorable get together story.” you could hear Mina swooning over the phone at the thought of how picturesque that moment would be in theory. However, in reality, that is probably the furthest thing from the truth that could happen.

“You mean how suicidal it would be to confess to an emotionally constipated man that could kill me without a second thought,” you moaned in frustrastion. “We’ve been friends for forever and I would hate to ruin the years of trust built into that bond over a stupid crush.”

You got off the bed and started to head to the small kitchen down the hall for a glass of water. They could feel the start of a sore throat beginning, maybe karaoke night with Mina and Denki wasn’t the best idea in hindsight.

“But it isn’t stupid, you won’t ever know if those feelings are reciprocated if you never give it the chance.” Mina was a sweetheart, really, but when it came to matters of the heart, her approach tended to lean more towards the hopeless romantic side of things. You could tell she meant well and maybe she was right, Kats might feel the same way.

Or he could hate her for even suggesting such a thing. Honestly there is a 50/50 chance here.

“Maybe you’re right Mina, I'll go see if he wants to hangout after patrol next week and maybe I will have the courage to confess by then.” You continued to take some more sips of your water. Geez, I might have to grab some cough drops. The tickle in your throat seemed to get a little worse with the addition of the water. you feel the phone vibrate on your face, indicating an incoming message.

BoomBoomBoy:

Hey idiot, I left my lunch in my fridge so I have to order takeout. I’m getting some curry from the place on 50th, and I don’t want to hear your fucking complaining about how I ate it without you. Meet me in my office in an hour.

“Speaking of the devil, he just demanded I spend his lunch with him so I gotta head to the office now. Maybe I'll be able to ask him to -” You began to cough very hard, as if there was something stuck in the back of your throat. “Sorry Mina, I think I'm coming down with something, but I am going to start getting ready now.”

“No problem, I hope you feel better, and remember even if he says no, there's still a place for you in my heart.” you loved Mina, truly. They hung up the phone and left to get ready to eat lunch with Bakugou, not noticing the three flower petals lying precariously next to the glass of water.

___________

At the office…

You march your way into the building, past the receptionist and into the elevator that was specifically reserved for Midoriya and Katsuki. You pressed the button for the top floor. As the numbers on the screen begin the increase, signaling your ascent to his office, you couldn’t help but feel a heaviness weighing in your stomach. This is the kind of confession that could change the course of your life. You and Katsuki had been friends for so long and much of your lives were ingrained with each other’s presence. Movie and dinner nights when he was free from patrol, quick lunch outings when he couldn’t get away from the office, quiet brunches at the coffee shop when you were having trouble sleeping or when work got too stressful. He was a pillar in your life that you didn’t think you could afford to lose.

The elevator rang, notifying you that you had finally made it to your desitination. You walk briskly down the hall to your left, hoping to not lose your nerve. As you get closer to Katsuki’s office you can hear the gruff rumbles of his voice through the walls.

“Of course I don’t know what to fucking do Shitty Hair, i’ve never been great at this type of shit.” Bakugou sounded very frustrated with the topic of conversation. You start to slightly open the door, aiming to signal your entrance, just in case this was a sensitive topic. However, before you could peep your head around, the next words that tumbled from his math stopped you in your tracks.

“You know it’s not that fucking simple, dumbass. I can’t just tell them how I fucking feel. I think I might actually love them- No, I know I fucking love the shit out of them and I can’t do anything about it.” There was a slight pause where you assumed Kirishima was answering him. “FUCKING FINE!” He lowered his tone, “I’ll talk to them tonight about it and see, but if this shit doesn’t work and I lose her, you're gonna wish I had killed your ass.” His voice had sounded more serious than you had ever heard him before. Even more than when he had declared that he would stop at nothing to be Number One.

I felt something drop on your hand, and looked down. Water was dripping from your hand. You quickly touched your face…no that wasn't water. You had started to shed tears and didn’t realize it. You released the door like it was on fire and ran to the nearest restroom.

Katsuki is in love…

You grasp at the edges of the sink as you try to coach yourself to breathe. You glanced up at the mirror and grimaced at the puffiness of your face and the redness of your eyes. Grabbing some paper towels you start to wipe your face with some cold water to try and salvage your demeanor before you have to go back. As you finally get cleaned up and start fixing yourself to head back out the door, a sudden wave of dizziness starts to overtake you. You lean over the sink and begin to hack and cough as if something was lodged within the back of your throat. Little splatters of blood began to cover the white porcelain sink and you watched yourself in horror as little by little, bunches of yellow petals began to litter the rest of the sink. When you had finally finished with your coughing fit, you looked at the sick. In utter despair you fell to your knees at the sight of 3 rather large marigold flowers on top of the pile of petals.

Katsuki is in love… and it's going to fucking kill me.

___________

You finally were able to manage and get yourself together enough to exit the bathroom. Bless whoever has to clean up that mess. You shakily made your way to the frosted glass door labeled: DYNAMIGHT. You slowly knock on the door, interrupting Katsuki’s current conversation.

“I ALREADY TOLD YOU FUCKING EXTRAS THAT IM TAKING MY LUNCH AND TO LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!” his voice bellowed throughout the hallway, bouncing off the walls. You opened the door anyway and peeked your head in the door. Bakugou sat upright at his desk and hurriedly hung up the phone, not even bothering to tell Kirishima goodbye. You resist the urge to not feel offended as he laid his eyes on you. His features visibly softened as he recognized who had knocked on his door and graced you with a wide and vicious smirk.

“Hey shortcake, what took you so fucking long?” To an untrained eye, he looked as if he had been waiting for you to come this entire time. But you could tell, outside of walking in on his earlier discussion, the slight sheen on his forehead, the rhythmic tapping of his fingers on his desk and the shakiness behind his shit-eating smirk very much signaled that he was nervous about something and DID NOT want to talk about it. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest.

“Hey Firecracker, what are you up to?” You secretly hoped that he would clear up the fog of confusion in your brain. You’re his best friend, he told you everything. The day that he thought about leaving Endeavor’s agency and starting his own, he spent the night with you planning out everything to get started. The nightmares he had about the LOV, were comforted by you. You were there for everything, and as much as it would pain you, there’s no way you wouldn’t be there for this.

“Absolutely nothing, just dealing with some goddamn PR nightmare. Some dumb shit about my image not being too great.” Your heart dropped. He had lied to you. He lied to you. He LIED to you. Katsuki is in love with some women and didn’t even plan to tell me about it. Your shaky smile dropped fiercely, but you quickly recovered and attempted to give another smile but only managed a bleak grimace. Bakugo, mistaking that look as a response to his answer, gestured for you to come and sit at his desk with him. His usual client chair was replaced with a comfortable armchair in anticipation of your visit. He knew that the chair was unbearingly uncomfortable on purpose to make his clients uneasy in his presence but switches it out for something more comfortable when you visit him.

“Come sit the hell down shortstack.” He had also taken to calling you aggressively affectionate names after a small incident in which you yelled at him that calling you a ‘dumbass idiot’ all the time wasn’t the most friendly experience. Thus these ‘sweet’ insults were formed.

You walked your way over to his desk, why he had it at the absolute other end of the room still astounded you but you’re starting to believe everything about his office was an intimidation tactic. Usually it doesn't bother you but after the events that just occurred, it starts to nip at your nerves, leaving you a little unsteady. Once you had made it to your designated chair, you were shocked to see that in place of the mediocre curry that you were expecting from Mrs Lee’s cute little curry shop down the street, Katsuki had placed you very beautifully made bento boxes on his desk. The smell of his signature curry wafts up your nose and you look at him in confusion. He gave a slight smile in response.

“You really think I’d feed you shit that wasn’t the best, huh?” He raised his eyebrow in question. “You know know my food is the fucking best, and I don’t settle for anything less than perfection.” And while those words would usually send your heart soaring at the gesture that is so unapologetically Katsuki Bakugou, you couldn’t help but feel a faint pang in your heart at those words and you feel your throat start to close up just a bit. You gave a strained smile back at him. “Damn Kats, you didn’t have to do that. How am I supposed to hold up my end of this friendship if you’re always trying to one up me?”

“You’re not. I’m the fucking best.You can’t compete with me.” He looked at you proudly, as if he was pleased that he could do shit like this and leave you feeling swept off your feet. You sat down in your chair, feeling a little lighter than when you came in. You both began to quietly dig in, but you could still feel the nervous energy radiating off him in waves. You glanced up at him and noticed that he was already staring right at you.

You blinked at him, “Suki are you okay?” you gently grabbed the hand that was still tapping away at the edge of the desk. That was the name reserved for the softest of moments, when he knows you're genuinely concerned.

He blinked back, shaking his head and gave you back a shaky smirk. “Yeah, just going through a lot of shit at work, but we’re not here to talk about that bullshit. We’re here to enjoy a nice lunch by yours truly. So don’t worry your pretty little head, ya little ankle biter.” He ruffled the hair on top of your head. You swatted his hand away, and he gave a deep chuckle as you attempted to readjust your hair back to its original state. You spent a lot of time looking presentable… not that you’d be able to do what you planned to do anyways.

“I got a couple of things to do after work today but I’m coming over tonight.” Bakugou had a way of inserting himself in your life without asking but knew when he was welcomed. You were sad. Would he go confess his love tonight and tell you in the aftermath? Am I the asshole if I tell him to fuck off? You shook the thoughts away. “Okay, i’ll pick out some movies then.” You hate your life sometimes.

“Not any of that psychological thriller shit either, can’t get a good night's sleep after that.” He frowned at the thought.

“All Might’s new documentary is out.” You suggested, knowing that he couldn’t resist seeing his hero. His eyes lit up. “Now you’re talking, tiny.” You finished your lunch in companionable silence.

___________

Home…

Once you made it through your apartment door, you raced to the toilet. The next several hours were spent in a pattern of throwing up bloody golden petals and researching the hell out of what you hoped you weren’t experiencing. You stared at your phone.

WebMD

Hanahaki Disease (花吐き病) : a disease in which the patient coughs up flower petals when they suffer from a one-sided love. It can end when the object of thier affections returns thier affections (romantic love only; strong friendship is not enough), or when the victim dies. It may be cured through surgical removal, but with the infection goes all romantic feelings for thier beloved.

No.Fucking.Way.

What the hell does WebMD know? I need a medical professional, because I can’t possibly be going through the dumbest shit in history. You call up Recovery Girl, having gained a more personal relationship with her during your time in UA. She was able to make some room for you in her schedule.

When you made it to her office, she was already set up and waiting for you. You made your way over to the medical bed and began to explain what was going on as she checked your vitals. When you mentioned the pile of petals that began to appear seemingly overnight, she looked at you with a horror stricken appearance. It did not look comforting. She confirmed your self-diagnosis, it was Hanahaki and you were in the final stages.

“Oh dearie,” she paused with a heavy sigh, “I can have you scheduled for the surgery in three days. You’d have to avoid whoever it is until then, or risk furthering your condition even more, and considering you’re in the final stages already you’d be facing a fatal end.” She hung her head and placed a hand on your shoulder. “Everything will be oka-

“I don’t want the surgery.” You said it before thinking, but you were sure about your decision. Losing feelings for Katsuki, means losing everything they had built over the past almost eight years. They’ve been through so much together and you’d be damn to have to lose it all now. You looked at her in a false determination. “I’m going to talk to him. There’s gotta be something we can do. I refuse to take the easy way out here.”

She tried to stop you as you began to collect all your things and head to the door. “But dear, if you confess and he doesn’t return those affections then you could die.” She looked as if the room might collapse on her at any moment. She had grown fond of you in the past few years you’ve known each other and would hate to see you risk your life. You shook your head and walked out the door, missing the small tear that ran down Recovery Girl’s face.

“Young Mr. Bakugou better realize his feelings for them before it's too late.”

___________

As you pulled back into your apartment complex, the panic and reality of the situation had started to settle in your mind. You began to hyperventilate. How the hell are you going to save yourself and your friendship? Can I really hope for the best and confess? Even if I don’t, I still have to explain the gravity of the situation. Would it be delusional to hope that maybe Kat’s mystery girl was me? You started to feel a little hope in the pit of despair you call your heart.

You were greeted on your own front door steps by the man in question. Katsuki Bakugou stood firmly in front of your door with bags in his arms, irritation on his face and knuckles poised to knock fiercely again. “OPEN THE DAMN DOOR, (Y/N)! I KNOW YOU HEAR ME FUCKING CALLING YOU.”

You rushed to his side and grabbed his hand, nerves sparking at the touch. “Don’t burn my door down, you damn spitfire. I just went out real quick. Geez, you’re so impatient.” You open the door to let you both in, he makes his way straight to the kitchen. Placing his overnight bag by your door and the snacks he bought in the living room. Throwing his jacket on the coat rack, he made himself at home on your couch, scrolling to the All Might Documentary scheduled to come on.

“You know I hate waiting, it's not like I was worried about your ass or anything.” What you didn’t manage to catch was the small blush on his upper cheeks at his behavior as he faced away from you and fiddled with the TV remote.

Once you go and get comfortable, you make your way onto the couch right beside him. This was a common occurrence between the two of you. Days when you both were free from responsibilities and work, you’d cuddle up on the couch and binge whatever TV trash was on today while sipping on some handmade cocktail Katsuki had made for the two of you. They were always good and ALWAYS strong. It was a nice distraction from the woes of everyday life, which was particularly helpful on days like today.

Before you were even aware, you’d both fallen into easy conversation, drinks were flowing and it had begun to reach further into the night before you had gained the confidence to finally have a conversation with him. You both stared at each other, a moment of silence had passed, and then you both opened your mouth.

“I need to talk-”

“I have a question-”

You both stopped and blushed in embarrassment at the moment. You swallowed your nerves and let him go first.

“So (y/n),” he never really says your given name unless it's urgent. He swallows hard. “There’s been something that i’ve been meanin to talk to ya about. I’m not really sure how you’ll take it but it’s important that you understand that I would never want to hurt ya, and your friendship means the absolute fucking world to me.” He gets a little choked up. “Um..there’s this girl ya see… and i kinda like the little shit but i’ve just been uh… a little too distracted to talk to her. It’s not because I'm nervous or any dumb shit like that… just a little overwhelmed with some things. But tonight is the night im gonna tell ‘er.” He was breathing a little too heavy as if these were dying words. “(Y/n), I really fucking like - no im in love with-”. His dialogue was discontinued by a loud ringing sound coming from his phone. He looked really frustrated at the interruption. He picked up his phone and glanced at the caller. You were only able to glean the name from the top of the phone before you swiped right on the caller and looked at you - Round Cheeks.

“Sorry, (y/n) - fuck, i really need to take this right now. Just hold on a sec.” He raced to the spare room and closed the door.

You sat on the couch frozen. You weren’t sure how to feel. You were almost sure you had a chance at this, but from what it sounds like…you’ve been friendzoned pretty hard. For fucking Uraraka. You could hear your heart beating in your ears. The blood rushing to your face at the utter embarrassment you would’ve just made of yourself had you confess your feelings for this man. This man who valued you as a friend, and apparently nothing more. Your chest started to feel constricted. Your airways are closing. You were overcome with several emotions all at once. Anger, jealousy, despair and of course… fear. You were gonna die unless you got that surgery.

He exited the bedroom, looking very relieved and almost… happy. You guess the phone call went well. He walked in big strides to your side and grabbed your hands. They were sweaty like always, it was one of the things you had always liked about him, no matter how self-conscious it made him. You both stared into each other's eyes. You could feel the oncoming signs of another floral arrangement, and if he said those fatal words to you, you didn’t know if you’d be able to take it. He started to open his mouth again, but before he could finish his thought, you stopped him in his tracks.

“Hey Katsuki, i don’t think i’m feeling too well. Could we maybe raincheck for another day. I think i’m going to be sick.” You start to clean up the snack wrappers from the living room. He immediately looked concern.

“If you’re feeling sick, munchkin, then let me help ya.” He started to walk away to maybe make some soup or grab medicine like he always does, but that’s not what you wanted. You wanted him to go.

“No, Katsuki, I think I'm all good here by myself. I’ll just go to the doctor’s tomorrow.” You hated turning him away, but it was for both of your own goods.

“What the hell is up with ya, shorty?” He was starting to get frustrated. Why won’t you let him help? “Just let me take care of ya.” He walked over to your side where your back was turned towards him. He grabs your arm and turns you around. You were crying.

“NO, BAKUGOU! I'M GOOD JUST LEAVE!” You shrugged his hands off you and headed towards the door. He was just making this harder for you, why couldn’t he just understand. He needed to go, the longer he stayed the sicker you felt, but when you looked him in the eyes, it broke down every defense you had, you couldn’t lose your feelings for this man. No surgery could stop these feelings.

“I'M NOT JUST GONNA LEAVE YOU HERE TO FIGHT THIS DAMN SICKNESS ALONE!” He just wanted to help you. He cared about you more than he wanted to admit, and you denying him was something he didn’t know how to take.

“Fine then,” You put your shoes on and grabbed your keys. You looked back at him as you put one foot out the door. “If you won’t leave then I will.” Maybe you were overreacting here but you couldn’t stand to stay there in that room with him, knowing that any second you’d cough up bloody marigolds and have to explain why you might die there in his arms. You closed the door behind you, coughing on your way out as you struggled to make your way to your car.

___________

Bakugou wasn’t sure what the hell was going on. One minute he was enjoying the only real piece of comfort he had in this world, and now he stared at a closed door as the love of his life walked out on him. Confusion settled in his stomach.

What the absolute fuck just happened? He replayed all the events of tonight's festivities. You guys were finally watching that All Might documentary that he had been putting off for ages just to watch with you. You were both a little tipsy but the atmosphere was light and fun. You looked so beautiful. Your cheeks were flushed from the alcohol, and you stuffed your face with chips, not worrying about how you might look. He loved that about you. The way you were unabashedly you, how you cared about him, how you seemed to love him. It was that moment that gave him the confidence to confess. He had to tell you now, there’s so much he wanted to do, to experience, to learn with you, and if he didn’t take those steps now, he might never take them. He steeled his nerves to tell you the truth of his heart, but before he could say those important words, Uraraka called.

Fucking round cheeks has the worst fucking timing. He had commissioned Uraraka and Kirishima to set something of a date up for the two of you, had this evening gone to plan. However, the plans were a bit time sensitive, given that your friendship anniversary was in two days, and he wanted everything to be perfect, this call was important. He swore he had only stepped out for two seconds to confirm the dinner reservation and the schedule swapping he did to ensure that no one would bother him for work duties that day.

When he stepped back out into the living room, he could feel a change in the atmosphere, but that wasn’t enough to deter him from talking to you. He walked towards you, butterflies in his whole body. He grabbed your hands. They were soft. Comforting. Just like you. But before he could express these thoughts to you, everything went to shit.

You were sick, you usually were after a few too many drinks but never this early in the night. He went to grab your tylenol from the medicine cabinet, he couldn’t resist the urge to take care of you. Especially, when that’s all you’ve ever done for him. He’s gone through a lot to be the man he is today, and a majority of that he owes to your too-kind-for-your-own-good nature. But today you didn’t want his help, you wanted him to leave, and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why.

He sat on your couch, confused about what to do now.

Maybe I should call Shitty Hair, it was his dumb fucking idea anyway. He looked around for his phone but couldn’t find it. He walked past the front door, where he saw you had dropped your phone in your haste to leave. He looked at the time 5:36 AM.

The sun is about to fucking rise and their out there, god knows where, sick to thier goddamn stomach. What the hell am I doing? I need to go find them.

He was about to grab his jacket when he caught a missed call and voicemail from Recovery Girl. He knew you two were pretty close, especially after all the time you spent by his side in the infirmary. He clicked on the voicemail, it must’ve been important if she left a voicemail.

“Hello dearie, I hope this doesn’t reach you too late. I did some analysis on your bloodwork after you left so I could see if there were some more options for you. Unfortunately, it seems as if you have contracted a very rare form of Hanahaki Disease. This particular form takes place over a 24 hour period and only allows you that time frame to find a cure. I’m not sure when you first started to develop signs but it is imperative that you give me a call right away.”

Bakugou dropped the phone from his hands. Hanahaki Disease? The fucking love disease? You had fallen in love? And with some dumbass idiot who didn’t feel the same way?

How dare that bastard not love you? You were perfect. You were kind, caring and smart. You didn’t take anyones bullshit and you stood by those you love. Now you were god knows how long away from fucking dying and there was nothing he could do?

No. There was something he could do. He could find you and make this right. Even if you didn’t love him the way he loved you, you didn’t deserve to die over it. You deserved to be happy. He was going to make sure that fucking happened. Bakugou grabbed the door but was met with a wet sensation. There was blood on the door, and a trail of yellow petals greeted him from the door to the parking lot.

Fuck…I hope im not too late. He jumped in the air and began to search for your figure. You didn’t make it far. Your car was haphazardly parked on the side of the park that you two often frequented together. You were laying by the tree that you two had carved your names in years ago. His heart seized at the sight of so much blood and flowers that surrounded you.

He landed by your side. Two fingers pressed against your throat. You were barely breathing. He had to get you out of here.

“Shit, wake up shortcake.” His voice sounded teary. “We gotta find the bastard that did this to ya. I’ll make him pay” He started to pick you up.

You roused a bit from the noise. You had to be dreaming. Bakugou stood over you. The rising sun shining behind him, giving him a golden glow. You smiled.

What a way to go. You raised your hand up to his cheek. Blood smears across his cheek. Even though he wasn’t real, it couldn’t hurt to lift this heaviness off your shoulders. You locked eyes with him and croaked out your last words.

“I’m sorry for loving you, ‘Suki. You mean the world to me and I wish I could’ve told you.”

Bakugou froze in his panicked state. You loved him? Then why the fuck were you dying? Of course he loved you too. How could he not.

He grabbed you by the face. “Don’t you ever dare be sorry for loving me, because I’m sure the hell not.” He pressed his lips to yours so brutally, you’d think he was waging a war on your face.

The suffocating feeling in your chest lifted itself so quickly as if it had never been there. You could breathe again.The feeling of being on death’s door had miraculously disappeared, and against all odds you had lived. You had lived because Katsuki loved you and you loved him back.

Tears gathered at the corners of your eyes and you wrapped your arms around him.

“I love you so much Katsuki.”

“I love you too (Y/n). Now let's get your ass home, and into some clean clothes. I can’t let my girl get sick for real.” He quickly lifted you off the ground, not giving you a chance to voice your protests. But you’d gladly be in his arms forever.

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 1 year ago

Text

Cottonwood Fluff

Summary: Azula and Sokka go for a walk in the Earth Kingdom countryside.

Note: Really short story for Sokkla Saturday (Combined this prompt and the last).

Spring in the Earth Kingdom is a far cry from spring in the Fire Nation. It isn’t so sizzling hot but it is still teeming with nature. She likes the daisies and dandelions the best. How they spot the rolling countryside with vast pops of white and yellow. Little bursts of sunlight. She also enjoys the cottonwoods and the fluff that they put in the air, even though it makes her nose tingle and her eyes water. Sokka says that she might be allergic to pollen.

Most of the time she doesn’t mind. Watery eyes and tingling is a small price to pay to feel the earth; the grass between her toes, petals between her fingers, and–when she is in the right mood–dirt and mud on the soles of her feet.

It is good for her, she thinks, to smell dew on the grass and honeysuckle in the early morning. She certainly hasn’t felt as stressed and distraught since Sokka started taking her here. To be frank, she isn’t entirely certain of where here is, or if the little town even has a name.

It is, afterall, just a cluster of houses. Maybe ten or eleven of them and then that path that leads to Gaoling.

Sunrises and mornings are quiet here.

She likes to take her tea with honey and chamomile and listen to the grasshoppers chirp and the bees buzz. She likes to listen to the wind shake the tall grasses, barely, and branches. The Earth Kingdom is full of grains and oats. Sometimes, when she is lucky, Sokka gets some peanut butter and some honey and bakes those grains and oats into a little snack for the both of them to eat on the porch or by that pond with the rickety little bridge.

She swears that one day it is going to collapse on the both of them and they’ll have to walk all the way home drenched.

The creek likes to gurgle, it isn’t all that deep but it is long and it meanders alongside the path to Gaoling. The one that she and Sokka walk often. Hand in hand without much urgency to get anywhere in particular.

Sometimes Azula misses the hustle and haste. But these lazy afternoons have treated her so well. So she will take them until she truly starts to itch for Caldera City’s rush and clamor. That busy life that keeps her mind sharp and her soul entertained.

Today Sokka carries her on his back while he babbles about nothing in particular. The cottonwoods are shedding so much fluff that it could be a snowy winter. Except the grass is vibrant green and the hummingbirds sing and the woodpeckers tap, tap, tap.

She is starting to doze off. This isn’t particularly uncommon. If she gets relaxed enough she can nod off in seconds.

“Nice day, isn’t it?” Sokka comments.

“Hmm?” She mumbles. “Yeah.” It is a warm day. Blue skies. Rolling clouds. Rays of sunlight that cut through them and kiss her exposed shoulders. Most days are nice days, she thinks. Which is refreshing considering how many perfectly lovely days had been gray in her mind some not too distant time ago.

“How’s this spot?”

Azula looks around. He has found them a clearing ringed by dandelions that have yet to lose their wispy white crowns. There are a few fallen logs and several clusters of mushrooms. It smells like moss and pine.

She hops down from his back. “It’s nice, Sokka.” She wouldn’t mind just sitting here in silence for a little while. Perhaps hours even. That’s what they usually do. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

They have gotten to a point where they don’t need to talk. They only need to be in each other’s company in the earth’s embrace, counting clouds and robin’s nests until the sun begins to set.

And all feels right in Azula’s world.

#avatar the last airbender #azula #sokka #sokkla #sokkla saturdays 2023

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raccoonfallsharder · 10 months ago

Note

oh my god! so i kept on telling myself that i’ll read window across the galaxy whenever i find time (haven’t really done that yet T_T it feels like i have all the time in the world and yet not enough) and i come to do my daily check of raccoonfallsharder to find out IT’S FINISHING SOON?! you work at the SPEED OF LIGHT (which is a compliment ❤️‍🩹 i am a snail and i wish i wasn’t.) but hopefully i can start binge reading WATG soon, the excerpts i’ve seen look amazing (which isn’t shocking coming from you. everything you write is a masterpiece!)

all of this to be said, i hope you’re doing okay. i know you write the Rocket Reminders for others but i hope you apply them to yourself as well. you deserve amazing things And More!

okay first of all you do a DAILY CHECK of my blog?? ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡ i mean that has to be an exaggeration but it’s still the sweetest fucken thing ive ever heard?? this seriously has made my whole shitty week better (hello tuesday morning, ive peaked). this whole ask is just so sweet and caring and kind. i might be tearing up in my office. thank you. i am carrying your words with me everywhere i go today, like armor ♡

secondly window will be here waiting for you whenever you’re ready babydoll. it’s not going anywhere (also you don’t gotta binge it! it’s perfectly fine to take bitesized chomps)

thirdly snails are incredibly important. they’re recyclers and pollinators and they are very cute when drinking water. there is nothing wrong with taking time, and fanfic writing should be enjoyable — not something to punish or pressure yourself about. 6 out of 10 experts agree that in all likelihood, trying to rush something like this is just a result of capitalism convincing you of the lie that “productivity” (whatever that is) is the most important thing. the other 4/10 say that you would have more time to create if it weren’t for capitalism in the first place, so it’s still not your fault. anyway the point is please keep being a lovely perfect snail going at your own lovely perfect pace and don’t be too hard on yourself

finally here’s an extra window excerpt (the very beginning) just for you ♡♡♡ may your day be full of soft and happy moments, you gorgeous winter sunrise, and may you feel loved & cared for every second

☆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The Eclector is dark and, despite the raucous laughter and fighting of the crew, every footfall on the gridded catwalks seems to echo. It smells like rust and oil and old metal, and sometimes sweat, and there’s generally very little that is pleasant about it.

But Kraglin Obfonteri had sent word that the Yondu clan had recently overtaken a Xandaran luxury liner. Among its treasures, there had been a pretty vast art collection, and Jolie is a reliable assessor and - for some of the more common mediums, as well as a few blindingly unique ones - a restorer. It’s not the first time she’s contracted her services out to a Ravager crew. Hell, it’s not even the first time she’s worked with the Yondu Clan. She crosses paths with them at least once every fifteen cycles or so.

So here she is, following some hulking brute named Taserface and dodging when pirates on the catwalk above decide to spit over the side.

What a way to spend my morning, she thinks. There better be something worthwhile in this pile of junk.

They finally leave the belly of the ship and Taserface leads her through a network of cargo holds and corridors, trying to make very awkward conversation and occasionally leering at her. Jolie is a consummate professional, though, and she’s dealt with a lot of creeps. She keeps a polite smile on her lips and a dead look in her eyes. She’d been hoping today’s escort would be the aforementioned Kraglin, or maybe fellow-Terran Peter Quill. Pete’s been family since Jolie met him - almost seven years ago - even if they don’t usually see each other more than once every few cycles at most. He’s a handful of years older than her, but his relative optimism still makes her feel like he’s a sweet, annoying little brother. Frankly, it pulls some heartstrings, because Jolie has baggage where younger siblings are concerned.

Kraglin, on the other hand, is a remarkably endearing moron, and Jolie kind of adores him, the same way she adores particularly stupid cats.

Unfortunately, Jolie gathers that Pete has apparently disappeared in his M-Ship without a word - much to the irritation of the rest of the Yondu clan - and Obfonteri is offsite on orders from the captain, engaging in some kind of criminal activity or another. So here she is, stuck with a guy who could’ve picked any name in the galaxy and settled on Taserface.

Each chamber the pirate guides her through is packed with stolen goods, and she keeps her eyes open in case there’s some incredible artistic masterpiece that has somehow escaped the haul he’s currently taking her to examine. No luck so far, and Taserface is pulling ahead of her, trying to impress her by droning on about some recent brawl he’s been in. She zones out of the conversation, only smiling placidly and nodding vacantly when he glances back at her.

They pass another corridor, this one even more abandoned, and enter yet another chamber. More goods are stacked all around, a disorganized horde of stolen treasures: casks of silverwine from Vanaheim, crates of shimmering pearls from Morag, pleasure-bots from Contraxia. At the far end, she sees what looks like the corner of a cage.

Her eyes narrow, and her head tilts.

That’s unusual.

Normally, bounties are housed in the caged cells lining the main corridors just off the belly of the ship - not hidden, and not mixed in with the loot. As they draw closer, Jolie can just make out a shadow shifting inside - something the size of a kid.

Her blood runs cold.

She’d heard Yondu and his crew had already been exiled from the loose coalition of Ravager clans due to trafficking children, but she’d thought they’d stopped doing that years ago, when Pete had come on board. Is that why this cage is hidden way out here?

They draw closer, and she catches a glimpse of fur moving behind the rusted bars. Out here in space, that doesn’t mean anything in particular: it could still be a child. Her stomach becomes a stone in her gut, and she knows she's not leaving this stupid fucking ship without knowing what's going on, and making sure everything is okay. She’s got enough units on her that she can probably afford one or two kids, maybe a few if she needs to - a bribe more than a purchase, she thinks, and a mean fucking talking-to for Yondu Udonta. But if he's making some kind of a habit out of this, she’s going to need a lot more resources than she currently has available to her.

And maybe he’s not. She's trying very hard not to jump to conclusions, because to be honest - despite his reputation - Yondu really doesn’t seem like the type to continue engaging in this shit. And she kind of likes him, like the grumpy old uncle she's never had.

Taserface keeps heading straight across the chamber to the other door, boasting and blathering, but Jolie’s drawn to the cage. Smoothly - never breaking stride - she veers to the left, and her tour guide doesn't even notice.

The metal box is about three feet tall, sitting on top of a knee-high crate scrawled with the words “sovereign porn” in Kree - lovely, Jolie thinks drily - and there’s definitely a lifeform inside. She leans in just a bit, and catches a flash of bright eyes and teeth and - she thinks that’s a ringed tail, and a mask.

That can’t be right.

Her eyes scan him again, and yeah: the caged creature looks almost like a raccoon from back home, but he’s standing upright on his hindlegs and…yep, he is most certainly wearing pants.

The lifeform rears back: teeth bared in a vicious, silent snarl, ears flat against his skull. In this position, she can see some kind of metal has been embedded in his chest. The fur around it - and in a few other places - has long since stopped growing due to scarring, and the flesh around the metal itself looks painfully inflamed. Her heart slams into her sternum and her stomach drops.

“Oh, love,” she breathes out, unthinking. “What did they do to you?”

The raccoon tilts his head to one side, eyes bright with biting intelligence, and she could swear he’s practically sneering. He opens his mouth and for all the world, she almost thinks he’s going to answer her.

Taserface interrupts any miraculous revelations with his too-loud, too-boastful voice, suddenly behind her, leaning too close. “T’was the High Evolutionary Hisself what cut the critter up and stitched it back together. Replaced some of its bones with new ones and made it walk like it’s tryin’ to be a man.”

She straightens and stares up at him, and the asshole chuckles, like it’s funny.

Jolie makes a noise in her throat before she can stop it. “Nope. Don’t like that.”

She turns back, still eyeballing the creature on the other side of the rusty bars. It’s shadowy in there, but she’d guess he’s maybe three-feet tall with change. And if he is a raccoon - and he sure does look like one - he’s probably already plotting his escape.

She gnaws on her lower lip. “And where are you all taking him now?”

Taserface looks at her like she’s an idiot. Maybe she is.

“Back t’ HalfWorld an’ the High Evolutionary, a’course.”

Her head snaps around to face him so quickly that something in her neck audibly cracks, sending a hot flare of pain up the back of her skull. She ignores it. “So they can torture him some more?”

Taserface shrugs and glowers and spits dismissively. “It'll be two hunnert-thousand units.”

Jolie sucks in a breath through her teeth. That’s more than…well, that’s more than a few children.

She looks at the rusted bars, and back to her brute of a tour guide, and sighs heavily. Slowly, she turns back to the cage, swaying toward the bars so she can peer in at eye-level. She’s immediately face-to-face with the creature. His ears are still pressed flat against his head, fur bristling, and he’s gazing back, clearly suspicious and probably - justifiably - feeling more than a little bit mean. She’s suddenly certain that if she got close enough, he’d take out her eyes.

There’s no helping herself, is there? Goddamn, she’s an idiot. One corner of her mouth twists up in exhausted resignation and she sighs.

“Welp,” she says solemnly to the raccoon with a polite nod, “fuck me, my dude.”

Swiftly, she stands back up, turning to Taserface and flattening her palms together in front of her with a soft clap. Her fingers lace together and she presses her knuckles to her lips in half a prayer. She’s not going to think about the consequences too much. Not till later, anyway. She’s going to move through these next moments in a flurry, a manufactured whirlwind: partly so she doesn’t second-guess herself, and partly to keep Taserface from applying too much critical thinking to anything she’s about to say.

She imagines that second part should be easy.

“It looks like it’s Udonta’s lucky day, because I happen to have two-hundred-and-thirty thousand units on hand, and I’ve always wanted a raccoon.”

#rfh asks #window across the galaxy #uniquetaste #snail appreciation post #rocket raccoon #rocket raccoon fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy

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nrdmssgs · 1 year ago

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OC ask game

Second part of answers for this request. This is quite upsetting, sorry. There are serious triggers out there: mentions of real life events, mentions of mental struggles, mentions of unhealthy behavior.

#B What inspired you to create them?

Ok, this is the fourth time, i'm starting answering this question. Lets do it like that: I'll give a short safe answer and a long one, but with TW.

So, short answer: personal trauma and a few characters/situations from popular culture.

Now to the long one. When I started this blog, I promised to myself to keep it politics free. So I'll really try to make it the first and the last time.

First and the foremost important: I know, I'm not a victim in this situation. There are people out there, whos lives are turned to hell on earth, who don't know if they see the next sunrise. So my whining about 'feeling bad about it' means nothing, and it's not a request for compassion or pity. I know, I must be nothing but happy and grateful for my calm and full life. I promise, Im working on it.

Four years ago I moved from my country to Germany. A year and a half ago my country invaded a neighboring country and started a heinous, bloody war. A number of war crimes committed by my country is multiplied daily. Never before I thought, I could cry every day, for multiple times, could stop eating, struggle to sleep. I never had depression, don't know, how real emotional problems feel. But the start of that war changed something in me, because in a few months I started committing to some unhealthy thoughts and patterns. I absolutely understood the reasoning behind possible hate towards anyone with the same citizenship as mine, I still do. I know we must feel bad, guilty not till the end of the war, but for the rest of our lives. And I swear, I do. But at some point my hate, I channeled towards myself, started to be destructing. I couldn't get professional help, as it is complicated to express your feelings in another language. I understood, that I struggle to do anything other than read news and cry. And it's actually a problem, when you are a grown adult, who is supposed to work on a thesis, do an internship, fight your cats cancer and find a job. So I clutched my teeth and just tried everything to just keep going. And one of the things was finding a hobby and reanimating this old tumblr blog.

I liked almost everything in CoD. Almost, because there was Nikolai. My problem with Nikolai was that we shared an origin, yet he wasn't a bad guy in the story. And by the time I started falling down CoD hole - I was already neck deep into self neglect because of my origin and everything, that happened. So it frustrated me, he wasn't depicted, and he wasn't feeling himself as a bad man. So when any discourse on tumblr came to him - I usually just went completely silent. That was until I found two blogs writing beautiful stories about him. My initial reaction was 'ok, those people are just super-nice and maybe they don't know about where he comes from'. But then I read one story. And all the comments. And another story. And, once again, all the comments.

I was startled. I sat before my screen and just cried. Because I saw people, looking far beyond this characters country of origin. And they loved him for who he is. By no means he was a perfect, no, but they LOVED him, they gave zero fucks, where he was born, they cared for what he was actually doing.

And at some point I thought, I have something to say about the guy, I have a story about self-acceptance, acceptance of others around you, and it means a world to me right now, because it hurts so much.

So I opened new file and started talking to myself in it. And I manifested all the pain I was dealing to myself into this poor thing, my Zhar. At first, I didn't even let her have a name or an appearance in my head, because I thought, she never deserved it. I wanted her to entertain me and others, speak to Nikolai about trust and fears. The main role in a Heart was always Niks, as it was him, who practically said her 'hey, I know, it hurts. I know, it's really bad. But I'm here to accept you, to show, you still can do something good. And I'm here to love you on this way and beyond it'. It was the hardest message to write, because i myself still struggle to 'sit before a mirror' and say it all to myself. But maybe, just maybe, its a step in a right direction.

The more I wrote, the more details Zhar got. By the third chapter I already knew, how her voice sounds, how she looks. I didn't add it in the story to not spoil it.

I took inspirations from many characters, I deeply love. There is a bit of struggle of Senua from Hellblade, there is a bit of my favorite scene with Cersei from GoT, there are little droplets of Claire Underwood being uncanny and friendly at the same time. All my favorite things. I also bring together a small playlist for Zhar that helps me a lot. But thats that - her and my story. I wish, I could tell, it's just a self-insert, but sadly it's not, at least not in a traditional way.

#F What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)?

Well, now that I told her story, its only fair to admit - my heart is full of compassion for her. I wish I could hug her. I think, if I ever won her trust - we'd have quite a talk. I wish I could make it hurt not so bad, but I guess, its Nikolais work now. Hope, he doesn't give up on it.

#nrdmssgs #nrdspeaks

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jaytoons7 · 2 years ago

Note

"What's going on?" When Slice proposed to Wilhelm, Please!

💍💖

It had been about a year since Terrence was overthrown by Reginald. The clan was still sort of picking up the pieces after what happened during those past few years. With all that in mind, It made Slice wonder...

...Was now really the right time to do this?

Now, Slice was never known to be the nervous type. He always leaped into any battle or raid with confidence, Machete in hand and a grin on his face.

But after the raid that killed many beloved Toppats like Caly and Crusher, Not helping that he completely snapped at Terrence and even threatened him afterwards, Slice took a more backseat role in the clan for his own sake. Although, If anybody asked, He would say it was because of the scar he got on his face that same day.

Slice had been through many hardships in his life that changed him, And that was honestly what he was worried about. He looked at the small box in his hand, What if he wasn't the same person that Wilhelm loved anymore? What if he says no?

Besides joining the clan itself, Wilhelm was one of the best things that had ever happened to Slice. Wilhelm had directly asked Slice to help him improve his English, Which they spent a lot of free time together doing.

Between that and doing heists together, The two began to get really close, Eventually falling in love.

Slice took a deep breath to ground himself. He wasn't gonna back out now! He hid the box behind his back and walked to the cafeteria.

Wilhelm was sitting in said cafeteria finishing his lunch. He saw Slice walking over and smiled. "Good afternoon, Meine Liebe. I hope your paperwork has not been too taxing today." "N-No, It hasn't." Slice tried to keep his cool. "I just got finished with a huge batch, I have the rest of the day off."

"Wunderbar! I was actually wondering..." Wilhelm started to blush. "If we could spend the rest of the day together..." Slice nodded, But his hands began to shake. "I-I'd love to! B-But... I wanna ask you something first. C-Could you stand up real quick though?"

Wilhelm gave Slice a curious look before standing up. "What would you like to ask me?"

Slice took a few shaky breaths. "W-Wilhelm, I know things have been a bit shaky in the clan recently. Terrence just got dethroned not long ago and we're all still adjusting to Reggie's leadership, So I don't know if this is the best time but..."

His face turned red from both nerves and blushing. "I-I love you so much. You've made me so happy in spite of everything that's happened. Th-That's why I wanted to know."

Wilhelm looked down in surprise when he saw Slice going down on one knee. "What is... Going on..?" Slice pulled out the box and opened it, Revealing a ring with a gold band and a red sunstone in the center.

"Wilhelm Krieghaus, Will you marry me?"

Wilhelm stood in stunned silence for a second before tears began falling down his face. "Ja..! Ja, Schatz! Of course I will!"

Tears began falling down Slice's face as well before he got up and hugged Wilhelm. "Thank you! Thank you! You've made me the happiest Toppat alive!"

The two hugged for a minute before separating. Slice then gently slid the ring onto Wilhelm's finger. "You have chosen a very beautiful ring." He hummed.

"Thank you." Slice wiped a few remaining tears from his face. "Right helped me pick which one to steal. The gem's a sunstone. I chose that because well, You've been the light of my life. Like the sunrise at the end of a cold harsh night. That's probably really cheesy..." He nervously laughed.

"It is perfect." Wilhelm leaned forward and pulled Slice into a kiss. They would both finally be united as one.

(I changed the quote a bit to match Wilhelm's speech pattern)

#this ship doesn't have a name #i literally invented it #the henry stickmin collection #thsc #thsc slice #wilhelm krieghaus #jay writes #jay answers questions

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aebi12 · 2 years ago

Text

"Sinful Desires" - Chapter 15

Alyssa is still hugging Aemond's body when she wakes up, although not because of her nightmares, and the sun's rays are just beginning to rise on the horizon. Actually, she thinks as she buries her nose between the prince's head and shoulder, it's the first time in weeks that she's managed to sleep without dreaming and wake up without feeling that she's more tired than she was before. Alyssa smiles at the thought and breathes in Aemond's familiar scent.

"Good morning" he says hoarsely.

She pulls her head out of his neck and looks at him with an apology in her eyes, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."

"I'm used to waking up early" he replies, taking the hand that Alyssa has on his chest and bringing it to his lips to deposit a soft kiss, "My training sessions with Cole are always before sunrise"

“I didn't know that one of the best warriors in the realm still needed training sessions with his old childhood tutor,” she jokes, raising her eyebrows.

Aemond laughs, and Alyssa thinks it's the first time she's heard him laugh since they were reunited. The sound warms her heart, and she brings her hand to his face, stroking his cheek with her thumb.

"I must continue preparing for war"

“Surely you won't need to fight with a sword when you have Vhagar,” she says with a frown. The thought of Aemond fighting against numerous soldiers makes her heart pound eagerly in her chest.

"You never know," he shrugs her off, "I have to be ready for any possible scenario."

Alyssa nods. The topic of war is inevitable. Sooner or later it was going to come up and they are going to have to learn to deal with it. The princess is willing to marry Aemond, to fight for the future they can have together, but...

"What is it?" he asks, noticing that his fiancée seems lost in thought

"We need to talk," Alyssa says after a few seconds of silence.

“Hmmm.” From her expression, Aemond knows that this is a serious matter. He guesses what it is, so he waits for her to continue talking.

"I cannot support Aegon's rule and turn my back on my mother"

"I don't get it Alyssa, I just don't get you" his expression hardens, "Your mother doesn't deserve your loyalty, she called you a traitor in her letter"

"But I'm sure she doesn't think that, not really" she shakes her head, "Mother is angry, disappointed with how she thinks things turned out, she didn't…"

"She was going to send you to the North to win swords for her cause"

“Don't use that against her. Your mother was going to do the same to you when she promised you to the Baratheon sisters."

"Is different"

"No, it's not" she points out and adds "Aemond, the last thing I want is to fight you."

"Then let's not fight. From my point of view, it's very simple."

"Nothing in this situation is simple," Alyssa lets go of his embrace and sits on the bed, "I know it seems simple to you, but at the end of the day, it's my brothers you'll fight when the war breaks out."

Her voice breaks. Aemond sighs and sits up on the bed as well.

“So, you don't want to marry me anymore? Is that what you're going to tell me?" he asks after seconds of awkward silence

She glares at him, patience beginning to leave her body, “Don't take me for a capricious or fickle girl, I'm going to marry you, Aemond. I decided to marry you and I will do that"

"Because you love me" his statement sounds more like a question

"Of course, I love you" she looks at him, exasperated, "Wasn't I clear enough when I told you that right here a few hours ago?"

"Then why are we still arguing about this?"

“Because I love my mother and brothers too,” she hisses, “I'm sorry if my affection for them offends you or if you think I should erase them from my mind because of the letter my mother wrote, I can't. They are my family"

Aemond clearly holds back on his response because his jaw clenches and his hands ball into fists, “They don't deserve you, Alyssa. My half-sister especially, doesn't deserve you to continue to hold her in such high regard."

"My mother is impulsive and gets carried away by anger, like someone I know" she replies, staring at him, a hint of a smile on her lips.

"Hmmm"

“I know that she loves me,” Alyssa continues, “and I know that what she wrote is actually what my stepfather was whispering in her ear. Daemon doesn't like me"

He seems shocked at the princess's words, "Why do you say that?"

Alyssa shifts uncomfortably on the bed, “When my mother found out what happened between us, she insisted in marry me off as soon as possible. She thought no noble lord was going to want me if it became public knowledge that I was no longer a maiden, she thought you would use that information against me,” she places a finger to his lips to silence him when he seems to want to interrupt her, “I know you wouldn't. That possibility never crossed my mind. But my mother thought it was necessary for me to find a suitable husband so she gave me options."

"Options?" there is contained anger in his question

“I would never have chosen the North and my mother didn't want to send me that far either,” she says, “I'm sure it was Daemon who convinced her otherwise. He questioned my loyalty to my mother when she found out about my affection for you, he kept an eye on me and who got the information about our night together. And I think that…"

"What?" he asks, holding her hand, urging her on when she can't bring herself to voice her suspicion out loud.

"I think he would rather put his own son on the throne than concede power to Jace."

Aemond frowns. Alyssa's doubt doesn't seem unfounded considering all he knows about his infamous uncle.

"Daemon has spies in the Red Keep," he says, going back over everything she had told him.

“Yes, he still has many informants in the city. Surely that was how they found out about our engagement”

They are both silent for a few seconds, Alyssa giving him time to absorb what she just told him before continuing.

“This war has to end before there is more bloodshed between our families,” she says, her voice almost pleading, “and I need you to promise me that you won't hurt my brothers if you ever go against them.”

Aemond frowns and looks down, "Alyssa I can't promise you that."

“Yes, yes you can” she takes her hands desperately, “I couldn't bear to lose other brother, not by your doing”

"But this is war" he turns to face her, "Things get out of control and anyone can end up hurt"

“Please, Aemond” she takes his face in her hands and moves closer to him, their knees bumping, “I need your word. I need to know that you won't hurt them, I need to know that I can count on you to end this war."

“End the war?” he gives her a sad smile

"I know I can make my mother see reason, I just need time"

“Do you want me to help you communicate with your mother?” the smile fades from his face and the familiar mask of coldness settles in his eyes

"I want what’s best for the realm and for our family"

“Do you think your mother is what is best for the realm?” he moves abruptly, cutting off contact between them, “My half-sister doesn't know anything about ruling, for years she has been separated from the political affairs of the crown. It is my mother and grandfather who have kept the peace, who have ruled these past few years and have brought prosperity to the realm."

“I won't deny that,” Alyssa nods, trying to calm him down, “But now your brother is king, tell me Aemond, how long will it be until he wants to do his bidding and makes the wrong decisions? Aegon is not fit to rule, he never took his duty seriously, he is a…”

"I know my brother well" he cuts her off.

"Do you think he is a good king?"

"No matter what I think, it is Aegon's birthright to rule because he is the firstborn son."

Alyssa smirks, "But my grandfather was the one who designated my mother as his heir, not your brother."

Aemond scowls, “Yes, my father only had eyes for my half-sister. His love for her led him to set aside the laws of the kingdom without even caring what happened to us."

His bitter tone causes the princess's heart to ache. She knows well that Aemond still bears the wounds that Viserys' indifference caused him.

“I know my grandfather wasn't fair to you,” she admits, “But all in all, he meant well. He wanted the house of the dragon to be united again”

“A little late for that”

"No, it's not, I don't think so," Alyssa sighs, "Aemond, if I could talk to my mother I'm sure I could get her to listen, to understand that what happened with Luke was an accident."

“For what purpose would you tell her that? So that I can kneel before my half-sister and accept her as queen?" He doesn't give her a choice to reply, "I won't do that Alyssa, don't ask me to do that."

"I know you would never betray your mother and siblings" the princess replies, shaking her head, "I couldn't ask you for that."

"Not to mention that Rhaenyra would surely allow her dragon to eat me before giving up on the revenge that she surely already plots against me"

Alyssa wants to deny his words, but she knows that Aemond is probably right, so she allows a few seconds to pass before speaking further.

“Jace can help me. I know I can convince my brother to join my cause."

"Which is what exactly?"

"To truly unite our families, with Jace on the throne and you by his side, as his hand," she looks anxiously at his face, waiting for his reaction, "You would have real political power and you and my brother would be good for the kingdom, I'm sure of it. You have studied your whole life, you have prepared yourself to serve the realm and be a good prince. Besides…"

"What?" he asks, intrigued

“Eventually, Jace's firstborn son would marry our daughter, so our families would be united and both sides would continue to rule together. Our daughter would be the queen of the seven kingdoms."

"What about my brother?"

"I think Aegon would rather have his freedom than a crown he never wanted."

Aemond frowns, his mind flashing back to Aegon's almost desperate plea when he found him, still drunk, after their father had died. The desire of him to take a ship to the free cities and be freed from the burden that he considers the crown.

“We could have true peace,” Alyssa continues, “And a safe place where Helaena and her children can live in harmony with my brothers.”

"Your mother will not want to give up what she considers her birthright"

“My mother loves her children. War endangers us all, surely, she would choose a peaceful option. I know she would trust me to protect my little brothers."

Aemond seems to consider her words, she waits for him to speak again, but she takes his hand, stroking his palm with her thumb.

“It's the best scenario for the kingdom,” says Alyssa, “The people deserve rulers who choose peace. House Targaryen must be led by leaders who put aside their differences, that's something neither your mother nor mine can do. Neither can your grandfather or my stepfather."

"And Jace and I can do that?" he still seems to doubt

“I have faith that you two can build something better” Alyssa takes his hands and places a kiss on them, “I know it's asking a lot, but think about my proposal, okay? All I want is to have my family back. All my family, together"

If she is delusional or too optimistic, Alyssa doesn't know and he doesn't tell her, the prince just nods and joins their lips in a short kiss.

***

Maelor is a very calm baby.

Or that's the impression Alyssa gets after spending the last few hours taking care of him while Helaena plays with the twins, who claim her attention after meeting their little brother.

"He's so sweet," she whispers as she cradles him in her arms.

"Hold his head more carefully, babies are very delicate at this age" says Queen Alicent before approaching her and accommodating the baby in a position that she considers appropriate. Helaena looks at her with an apology in her eyes and Alyssa reassures her with a smile.

“I'll be more careful from now on,” Alyssa replies in a conciliatory tone, saving her scathing retort in which she points out to the Queen Mother that she knows exactly how to hold a newborn considering she has two younger brothers, “Thank you, Queen Alicent”

The three women are in the children's room. The twins playing with their dragonflies and wooden bees in the floor with Helaena, who looks fully recovered just a couple of days after giving birth

"He is not as demanding as the twins" says her aunt, "He never wakes up at night"

"I still think you should let the wet nurse help you," Alicent sighs, "You haven't even completed your rest properly."

"I feel fine" Helaena replies with a smile and then looks at Alyssa, "We should start planning your wedding."

“Well, Aemond and I haven't talked about it yet,” the princess replies sincerely, “I don't know what he has in mind for the ceremony or…”

“A simple, traditional ceremony in the sept,” Alicent cuts her off, “Nothing too extravagant, we can't afford an expensive wedding under the current circumstances. The kingdom has other priorities."

"But it's Aemond's wedding." Helaena looks at her mother with her big blue eyes full of disagreement.

"I agree with your mother" Alyssa interjects, "It is better if just us, family, celebrate together. That way it will be more meaningful for Aemond and me"

Queen Alicent nods and then approaches one of her maids, saying something to her in private. Maelor starts to cry and Helaena rushes to her son, "He's hungry," she tells Alyssa, who places him in her mother's arms once she has sat down in the sofa, ready to feed the baby, "I'm sorry that my mother interferes in your wedding"

"I'm sure she'll have a lot of opinions about the ceremony from now on," Alyssa smiles, "But honestly, she's right about us having a small party."

Helaena caresses her baby's face, removing the traces of sweat before looking at the princess, “It will still be an opportunity to celebrate. And dance"

"You like to dance right?" she remembers the time she saw her aunt dance with her brother, how happy she seemed.

“Very much, yeah” Helaena says, “Aegon dances with me from time to time. When he's in a good mood”

"Really?" Alyssa can't imagine the scenario

Helaena nods, “We practiced together many times when we were kids. Aemond too. He is a good dancer, my little brother”

A mental image of Aemond dancing settles in her mind, and Alyssa smiles. The truth is that she hasn't really thought about everything that a wedding involves, so the idea of dancing with her future husband surprises and encourages her at the same time. Another happy thing to look forward to in the near future.

Have you thought about the dress? What color will you wear?

“I have an idea,” Alyssa lies.

“I will ask the royal dressmaker to come to your room so that you can choose the colors and best fabrics. It will be my wedding gift to you."

"Thank you, Helaena," she replies, happiness bubbling in her chest at the thought of imagining her wedding dress.

Queen Alicent returns at that moment and approaches the two young women. A steaming drink is in her hand and she extends it to Alyssa, "Drink up, princess."

"Tea?" asks Helaena, puzzled.

“Moon tea” Alyssa whispers, recognizing the beverage.

The queen's gaze meets the princess's, "We both know you need it, considering you spend most nights in my son's chambers."

"Mother!" Helena sighs. Alyssa blushes, but she finishes the drink, handing the empty container to the queen, "That was totally unnecessary."

"They're not married yet," the queen replies, fidgeting nervously with her rings.

"But they will be soon," Helaena says.

“Still, it's better to be safe than…” she trails off, “Helaena, why don't you call a wet nurse?”

The young queen does not respond to her mother, only pulls her son into her lap.

“Thank you, Queen Alicent,” Alyssa says, “Aemond and I are in no hurry to have children yet. For now, the best thing will be to enjoy these little ones” she points to her little nephews

Alicent doesn't answer, just stares at her. Helaena then stands up and places Maelor cradling him on her shoulder. Alyssa realizes that the baby has fallen asleep.

"I'd better go," she says softly, "I'll be back tomorrow."

Helaena nods before beginning to hum a song. Alyssa gives the twins a couple of kisses and leaves the room with Alicent.

"I thought we had a deal, princess," the queen says once they are out of Helaena's ears.

"What do you mean?"

"You said you would not marry my son"

"I'm sorry, but I never gave you my word on that matter." Alyssa stops and so does the queen, both looking at each other.

"You seemed pretty determined not to."

Alyssa sighs, "I love Aemond, Queen Alicent."

The woman smiles, although joy does not reach her eyes, "You don't even know my son"

“I know him better than you think,” the princess replies, “isn't that enough for you?” Her eyes clearly tell her the answer is no. Alyssa sighs once more, "If you'll excuse me, your son is waiting for me."

She doesn't wait for Alicent to reply and continues to stride in the direction of her room.

***

"I'm sick of us doing nothing"

Aemond realizes that his brother's patience has reached its limit. The other members of the council seem to have noticed the same thing because they alternate their apprehensive glances between the king and Otto.

“We are making alliances that…”

"Letters!" Aegon interrupts, “All you do is write letters and talk about alliances when my half-sister makes real moves for war. The Velaryon fleet is still in control of the Blackwater, we haven't received any ships for weeks and you do nothing about it."

There is resentment in his brother's voice. Aemond watches the suppressed anger with which Aegon addresses his grandfather, anger that he has been accumulating for years and that now that he is king he is able to bring out. Yes, the prince thinks, his brother is clearly enjoying being able to humiliate his grandfather as the man had done so many times with Aegon during his teenage years.

But there is something else. Aegon is increasingly present in council meetings, in the evolution of the war, in the economic affairs of the kingdom... his brother seems to be liking the power he holds. He's not going to give up being king easily, Aemond now understands as his mind drifts back to his quarrel with Alyssa a few days ago. The prince has been considering her words, internally debating whether or not to agree to what he sees as a crazy and desperate attempt to settle deeply rooted conflicts between the two sides. He doesn't have an answer yet so he hasn't brought the topic up again. His fiancée has not spoken about it again either. So, as is the norm for both of them, they have spent these last few days living in a happy bubble.

"The Triarchy is our best option to fight the Velaryon fleet" Otto replies without flinching, "Our alliance is almost guaranteed, it's a matter of waiting a little longer"

"I'm tired of waiting," Aegon spits, getting to his feet and pounding the table, "I am being perceived as a coward before my sister, who gathers her men from different parts of the kingdom."

"Your grace…"

Aegon interrupts him again, walking up to him and removing the Hand's badge, “We are at war. I need a warrior to fight my half-sister, not some worthless old man."

Aemond shifts in his seat uneasily, waiting for Otto's reaction. But this never comes. Aegon instead goes to Ser Criston Cole and places the hand badge on his chest.

"Ser Criston Cole, you are now the hand of the king and in charge of military strategy," Aegon says, "where do we begin?"

Aemond stops listening to Cole, who begins moving figures around the map, explaining to his brother the scattered location of Rhaenyra's allies. His mother will not be happy with the change of Hand, she will probably feel very affected that her father has lost the position again. Aemond must convince his brother not to send him to Oldtown. Alicent needs Otto's support in the capital, her mother is too stressed and tense enough to be separated from her parent. The prince wonders if the queen will try to change Aegon's mind. He doubts that she can do it. His brother's recent display of power has clearly fueled his pride, surely Aegon will not falter at Alicent's request.

"The crownlands are unprotected at the moment," says Cole, "I propose to attack Duskendale."

"House Darklyn," Tyland Lannister nods, "One of his sons is a member of Rhaenyra's queens guard."

"Indeed, my lord" continues Cole, "That way her supporters will know they won't go unpunished for their betrayal."

"An exemplary punishment" says Aegon

“Once we take Duskendale, which won't be difficult,” Cole moves the pieces on the board, “we'll continue on to Rook's Rest. Surely by then they will have already requested help from the princess, who will have to send a dragon rider."

“Do you think she will go herself?” asks Jasper Wylde

“Prince Jacaerys has yet to return from the North,” Lord Larys Strong replies, “And Prince Daemon marches into the riverlands with most of the army they have so far. No communication will easily reach him.”

"Then my half-sister will surely go to the aid of Lord Staunton" a smile appears on the face of the young King

"I propose to march with the scorpions and well-trained archers," says Cole, "The Dornishmen could take down a dragon before, we can do it now too."

"Maybe," Aegon tilts his head, "But this is my war, so I'll go with you too."

“As you command, Your grace,” Cole agrees, “but it would be better if your presence is not known to anyone else, not even the men of our army. Surprise is the best element in war and that way we can ambush Princess Rhaenyra, who will expect an easy win to a small army”

“Very well, get everything ready then, we leave at dawn.” Aegon stands up and walks over to Aemond, “Get ready too, brother. You come with me to battle."

***

Alyssa runs her hand over the gorgeous deep red lace on her bed.

As Helaena promised, the royal dressmaker has brought the best fabrics in the kingdom so that she can choose the one she likes best for her wedding.

The princess looks indecisively between the Velaryon and Targaryen colored silks, not knowing which one to choose for herself. She is clear, however, that she will not use the dark green that the woman recommended without much pretense, surely at the behest of Alicent.

“They are all very beautiful,” she says, examining a gold lace that would look perfect on black silk.

“Whatever you choose,” says the woman, “it will look good on you, princess. Although I think that green silk would help a lot to highlight your eyes”

Alyssa suppresses a smile and is saved from retorting because Aemond enters the room at that moment.

"I'll let you know my decision," she says, "You can leave now."

The woman curtsies to Aemond and herself and calls for a maid to help collect her many silks and laces.

"I'm sorry if I interrupted your afternoon" says the prince when they are alone, "I didn't mean to"

"No problem" she shrugs and goes to him, who has sat down in the antechamber, "Is everything alright?" she asks, noticing that Aemond seems dejected.

"I'll have to leave the city for a few days"

"Oh" she wets her lips and feels her heart pounding hard in her chest, "Is it because of the war?"

Aemond nods and begins to tell her everything that happened at the council meeting and his brother's decision to fight.

"So, they think a dragon rider will come to the aid of Lord Darklyn or Lord Staunton?"

"Surely your mother will want to quickly appease our forces, yes"

Alyssa nods, her anxiety eating away her mind and the air starting to run out of her body. Aemond goes to battle, hers Aemond will have to fight on the back of his dragon... against whom? Uncertainty terrifies her, her hand goes instinctively to her wrist to sink her fingernails into her flesh. He seems to notice because he stops her action and meets her gaze.

"It's going to be okay"

"No, it won't," Alyssa replies, shaking her head, "if Jace and Vermax go…"

"Your brother has not returned from the North yet"

"Then my mother" she whispers, terrified.

Aemond sees the fear in her green eyes, her uneasy breathing, and her trembling hands. He can't tell her the truth. He does not dare to confess that she is right, that it is Rhaenyra who they seek to liquidate with the surprise attack.

"Most likely it will be Daemon" he says, "Your stepfather has battle experience"

"Daemon?" Alyssa looks at him, still scared, "But it's dangerous, very dangerous for you and Aegon to fight him."

“Vhagar is the biggest dragon in the world,” he replies with more confidence than he feels, wanting to reassure Alyssa, “And my brother and Sunfyre are practically one when they fly. Caraxes will not be able to defeat us” Aemond takes Alyssa's face in his hands, staring at her, “Everything will be fine. Now breathe, my love, breathe and trust me”

Alyssa does as he asks and tries to calm her breathing. It takes her a few long seconds but her heart finally settles, and she places her hands on top of Aemond's, who are still cradling her face, "I trust you."

Aemond kisses her gently and then hugs her. Alyssa snuggles into his chest and they remain silent, he playing with her curls and she listening to his heartbeat to stay calm.

"When will you leave?" she asks after long minutes

"At dawn"

"Promise you'll come back to me" she raises her head to look at him.

“I will come back to you. Always” he takes her hand and kisses it, “Never doubt my love for you, Alyssa”

His words sound like a farewell, but she prefers not to think about it and returns to the shelter of his arms.

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond kinslayer #prince aemond #aemond fanfiction #ao3 writer #ao3fic #aemond x oc

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raviliuz · 2 years ago

Text

Okay, that's extremely random but I won't make another blog for one Rovinsky brain rot so here we go

AU where Kavinsky didn't kill himself and was still there when Ronan and Adam started dating

*Content warning: cheating, fighting, drugs, toxic relationships, physical violence mentioned, smut mentioned*

***

Ronan knows he shouldn't do this. He knows it won't help, more, it will for sure make everything worse. It's still not stopping him and he absolutely hates it about himself.

Another fight with Adam and the same old shit. Ronan truly loves Adam and that's the problem. They're fighting, as every couple does, and he's getting too mad but doesn't want to take it out on Adam. He cares too much to scream at him, to risk blowing up and hitting him. So he runs away.

Ronan knows it will hurt Adam hundred times more than his fist ever would.

But he cannot do any better.

Farm in 20?

He texts the number he blocked many times and unblocked after at most a few days when he needed something.

Sure princess

seen

Trouble in paradise?

delivered

Ronan arrives at the farm first. Of course he does, it will be a miracle if the other boy won't be late. He cannot sit still so he leaves his car and starts walking in circles. Ronan hears the aggressive sound of Mitsubishi Evo but doesn't care enough to stop walking and greet.

"Catching up on weekly step rate, princess?" Kavinsky says instead of hello.

Ronan knows he wants to hit that guy, wipe that confident smirk off of his face. He's just unsure whether he should do that with his fists or lips.

"Fuck off" he grunts.

He's answered with a mean, half-fake laugh.

"You texted me, at midnight to see you. Could have been doing coke with Proko now, so spill, what did your lovely little Adam Parrish do this time?".

The worst thing is, Ronan can't even deny so he decides to focus on the question and grabs Kavinsky's shirt's collar and tugs him closer harshly.

"Keep his name out of your dirty mouth, K".

Kavinsky is sure Ronan's about to punch him but he won't flinch, it's not like he cares about bruising his jaw.

Instead, Ronan pulls him even closer and after another second he zeroes the distance between them, kissing Kavinsky.

The kiss is rough and mean, they bite and their teeth clash while they are fighting for dominance.

"Aww, you're getting softer, Lynch" Kavinsky coos, genuinely surprised. Usually kissing comes after at least some punching.

"I'm getting my mouth dirty" Ronan whispers, more to himself than to Kavinsky.

The other boy doesn't say anything to that, just holds up his hand with two yellow pills. Ronan doesn't thank him, never will, but swallow pills without second thoughts.

***

They are sitting on the roof of a half-destroyed Mitsubishi Evo, watching the sunrise. Both boys have a few hickeys more than five hours ago.

Ronan hates those marks. They make it so much more real. He couldn't lie to himself that it didn't happen, having evidence on his neck and stomach. Kavinsky enjoys marking toys as his and Ronan hasn't even argued.

"You know what's the worst?" Ronan's whisper sounds like a scream in the silence of the farm. Kavinsky is high enough for existential crisis "I know I will hate myself when I sober up. I know that. And I know he" Ronan doesn't dare to say Adam's name "will know what I did. He will be hurt but won't hate me. He won't leave me even though I'm living garbage that just makes his life messy."

Ronan stops and takes a joint from Kavinsky's mouth to take another hit.

"I know all of it. And I'm still here."

Kavinsky just lets him ramble, it's not the first time they have had that conversation. Kavinsky knows it's a really dark shade of morally grey but he's not the one to give a crap about Parrish's feelings. It's entertaining. Ronan is entertaining.

"It's just so much easier to be with you" Ronan continues, face covered in white smoke "It's easy because I don't give a shit about you, man. We can scream, we can make out, we can throw punches. And I'm not feeling guilty that I hurt you, that's an advantage even" he blows a few smoke circles in Kavinsky's face "I hate your gut, man. But I'm used to being around people I hate, hating myself. I always come back, hating myself more every time."

He always comes back.

#the raven cycle #dream thieves #ronan lynch #joseph kavinsky #ronan x kavinsky #rovinsky #adam parrish #pynchinsky #pynch #prokopenko #trc reread #trc ronan #trc #the raven boys

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theghostpinesmusic · 13 days ago

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Trinity Alps Uber Alles (2/5)

I use the notes app on my phone to record random thoughts and ideas that I have while hiking. It feels more permanent than writing things down in a physical notebook and doesn't add extra weight to my pack. Plus, because I always have my phone on airplane mode during hikes, I'm never in danger of getting distracted by, say, Instagram reels by picking it up while I'm in the wilderness.

One time, a year ago, while on a trip in the Sky Lakes wilderness, apropos of nothing, I typed out "The Trinity Alps: forged by a mad god in the heart of Northern California for a single purpose: to destroy the world of men."

I think that's a pretty good summary of what the Alps are like. And a pretty good summary of why I love them.

And there is perhaps no greater example of the design of this mad god than the Sawtooth Ridge.

There is a "trail" that scales the ridge from the south (though calling it a "trail" is really stretching things), and I climbed it once, back in 2022. It ascends 2,700 feet in two miles, which for those of you keeping score at home, comes out to an average 30%-ish grade. For two miles.

Apparently, once upon a time, someone died of exposure while trying to climb the so-called Sawtooth Traverse in mid-summer years ago, and while I can absolutely understand how this could happen (I climbed it on a nearly 100-degree day in early July), I think the trail's reputation as a death trap best to be avoided is...maybe a little overstated?

In short, it's totally doable as long as you stay hydrated and are in good enough shape to do the 2,700 foot climb up. And it's awesome.

All that said, I had already done the climb up once and didn't want to do it again, necessarily, when I could get the same views by climbing down. This had actually been a big part of my reasoning for entering the wilderness from Big Flat and climbing up into Caribou Basin first: the top of the Sawtooth Ridge and related Traverse are a few hundred above Upper Caribou Lake, which meant I had set myself up to start my second day of this trip with a 2,700 foot drop.

But first I had to reach the top of the Traverse, which even from the north side of the ridge is no joke.

I woke up just after sunrise, and despite the cold forced myself to get up and make an early start. To get all of my limbs thawed out and woken up, I started my day with another trip up to the Upper Caribou Lake dam.

After packing everything up (and having a stern conversation with a few salt-crazed deer), I headed south. The trail meanders around the east-ish side of Upper Caribou Lake for awhile here, and at times becomes really difficult to follow. Fortunately, the stakes for getting lost are pretty low: at one point, I did get a bit off-trail, but I topped out on some tipped-over granite slabs twenty feet or so above the center of the basin and from my perch was able to see the trail that I was supposed to be on easily enough. I was able to backtrack with nothing lost but five minutes or so of walking.

This area is beautiful, as the granite tumble in and around a series of high-altitude lakelets is as striking as it is anywhere else in the Alps, as far as I'm concerned. The area was a bit dried out, understandably, in September, but it is nuts in July. I'd recommend it if you can go.

You can actually see a small notch at about ten o'clock in the photo of the basin I took, and that is really close to where you have to climb to reach the top of the Sawtooth Traverse. You "only" have to climb about 700 feet here, and you might think that after doing nearly 4,000 feet the day before this would be an easy task. It was not. The trail up to the notch is steep and is really difficult to follow in places. Getting off-trail means lots of scrambling over loose boulders and slippery mud. I've climbed this section of trail twice now, and have gotten lost in the exact same place in the exact same way both times.

By the time I'd regained the trail, I was sweaty in spite of the early morning chill in the air, and felt like I would hardly be able to gain the notch, let alone carry out the aggressive itinerary I had in mind for the rest of the day. But I kept stumping away, the Caribou Basin kept growing smaller and smaller below me, and, eventually I topped out on Sawtooth Ridge.

The scale of this glacier-carved valley as well as the Sawtooth Ridge that marches off into the distance on its left and the "white," granitic core of the Alps to its right is one of the most breathtaking sights I've ever seen in my life. During my climb of the Ridge in 2022, I'd had versions of this view all the way up, over the course of two-plus hours, and the perspective from the very top still took my breath away. It's awesome in the literal sense of the word. Photos can't really do it justice, but I took them (and am posting them) anyway.

I'd been worried that a 2,700 foot ascent might be a bother for my forty-three-year-old knees, but I did most of it without a break, albeit slowly. I think my knees were just so happy to not be going up anymore that they weren't going to gainsay me.

To be clear, this trail is narrow, and there are many, many switchbacks. There's some exposure at times in the sense that it looks like you could simply fall off the ridge and float out into space forever. But there are really only two or three very small stretches of trail where you could theoretically fall and suffer worse than a few scratches. Go slow, use trekking poles, and keep your head on straight and you'll be fine. And you'll have experienced one of the most insane examples of trail engineering I've ever come across in my life.

When I got to the bottom of the Traverse, the sign indicating its beginning was shattered in a way that suggested a bear (I guess a bear that hates signs?) to me. Exhausted and thankful for an excuse, I dropped my pack, took a long break, drank a liter of water, and, somewhere in there, fixed the sign using a length of paracord from my pack that I cut and cauterized.

Next, it was time for the first of a few lollipop handles in my mostly-a-loop route. I intended to end my day at Morris Meadows, east and then south of the bottom of the Traverse (and, hilariously, absolutely clearly visible from the top of the Traverse, many miles to the south). However, I felt like I had to stop by Sapphire and Emerald Lakes first.

You get a few glimpses of these two lakes during the Traverse, if you keep your eyes peeled. But if you head west from the bottom of the Traverse, a mile-plus or so later, you emerge on the shores of Emerald Lake, just below a cracked human-made dam that used to hold the lake's water back. From there, it's a spidery, slow scramble uphill to Sapphire Lake, but when I'd hiked there for the first time in 2022, the Sapphire Lake basin had been another one of the most beautiful sights I'd seen in my life. I couldn't imagine being this close and not visiting again, even if the diversion would add distance, time, and require me to return from Sapphire Lake to the base of the Traverse along exactly the same route.

The hike up to Emerald Lake isn't that bad, but it is a bit of a climb, and there are parts of it that are steep and exposed, and if you've just spent a few hours descending the Traverse, it can feel like a bit much. Fortunately, the ever-expanding views of the granite cliffs ahead and all around you are encouragement enough to keep you going. Eventually, after passing through a stand of trees and old snags with some pleasant-looking, shady campsites interspersed amongst them, you emerge almost too suddenly onto the shore of Emerald Lake.

Last time, I'd spent an hour or so mucking about on the lakeshore, but this time I was on a tighter timeline and there was already a tent pitched on the shore that might or might not have had people in it. I left my pack in the aforementioned shady-tree-snag area, took a huge slug of water, and started off up the scramble trail, along the north shore of Emerald Lake, upwards toward Sapphire Lake.

This bit is definitely slow going, as you wind around a bunch through scrub, then through a small pocket forest (visible on the right in my photo of Emerald Lake), then up a tumble of granite slabs. But the trail is never that difficult to follow (except at the very beginning, where it's seemingly impossible to find until you do), and the scramble up the granite slabs is, for me, in that perfect spot of just challenging enough without every feeling dangerous. I definitely hit the ol' flow state on the way up, and before long I was nearing Sapphire Lake's basin.

The last time I'd climbed up here, earlier in the summer, the approach had been veiled by tens of small snowmelt-fed waterfalls, and the effect had been astonishing. This time, the cliffsides were dry, but I was still blown away by my first sight of the lake, nestled high in a glacial cirque east of Caesar Peak. Caesar Peak can, apparently, be scrambled from here, but I'm definitely inclined to leave that to an imagined, alternate-timeline version of my thirty-year-old self.

I was initially disappointed to find a couple already sitting on the shore of Sapphire, as I'd sort of expected to have it to myself because of the dearth of hikers on the trails I'd taken so far. My annoyance quickly melted away, though, as the couple and their enterprising dog gave me a warm welcome. Us three humans chatted for a few minutes while I played with their dog, and then I scrambled over some slabs to the right to another small beach that protruded out into the lake (the beach I'd stopped at two years ago, as it turned out). We were blocked from each others' sight by a tall rock stack at that point, and were both able to enjoy relative solitude in peace.

This is one of my favorite places. I laid out for a bit on the sun-warmed granite. Remembering the crazy-but-energizing experience of taking a dip in Lake Of The Woods a few weeks before, I considered actually swimming in Sapphire Lake, but then I took off my shoes and dipped my toes in, and then went numb almost immediately. Even with the sun-baked descent back to Emerald ahead of me, I didn't want to be that cold. I settled for dipping my legs in to the knees for as long as I could stand it, which turned out to be a few minutes.

While I waited for the feeling to leach out of my legs, I contemplated the even gnarlier scramble trail from Sapphire Lake to Mirror Lake, higher up the cirque. I've seen pictures from Mirror Lake, and it looks completely insane. The scramble up to it, which I couldn't really identify back in 2022, was really clear and looked pretty safe, though arduous. I briefly thought about chancing it, but guessed (rightly) that I wouldn't then have time to get back down to Morris Meadows before sunset. Maybe someday, when I return to Sapphire Lake for a long-intended overnight on its shore, I'll give it a shot.

When I turned back around and regained the trail to descend back to Emerald, the couple and their dog were already gone.

During the descent, it's impossible to miss some absolutely bonkers views of Emerald Lake with the Sawtooth Ridge retreating into the background behind it.

When I got back down to Emerald, the couple and their dog were already back in their tent. I navigated around them to the north so as to not disturb them again, filled up my water bottles just below the old dam east of the Lake, and started back the way I came.

It was a bit mind-numbing to retread over so much ground, but my boredom was leavened by the fact that I was basically hiking downhill all the way from Sapphire Lake to Morris Meadows, a 2,000 foot descent over the course of five miles.

About four miles in, my environs changed from the granite-and-brush environs that enclose the Stuart Fork at its higher elevations and opened into something more...meadowy (for lack of a better way to put it). This last mile of trail is relatively gentle and rolling, and the beyond the meadows in every direction looming peaks hint at the more challenging terrain that you are, blessedly, not currently hiking through but that you can safely enjoy aesthetically from a distance. I was tired, though, after my long day of ascending and descending and ascending and then descending again, and it was a bit hard to focus on the beauty with rest so close at hand.

Eventually, of course, I reached Morris Meadows, and it was...empty? I'd been surprised the previous night to be the only one in the Caribou Basin, but to have all of Morris Meadows to myself, even mid-week in September, seemed insane. Still, I wasn't going to question it.

I spent some time exploring the area, trying once again to find The Best Camping Spot, but in the end I decided that the spot I'd used during my second night in the Meadows in 2022 is The Best Camping Spot. So, I set up there, spread out my gear much more luxuriously than I would have dared to do had the place been as busy as it usually is, and spent a bit of time reading as the day went from warm and breezy to cold and (relatively) still.

If I took a few steps out of my trees-sheltered campsite, I could see the wall of Sawtooth Ridge in the distance, and, if I squinted, I imagined that I could see the Traverse trail dropping down at a mind-bogglingly sharp angle from the top down into the valley below. I had to take a zoomed-in picture to confirm that, yes, that was a trail, and one that I had climbed earlier that same day.

The visual itself made me tired.

After luxuriating in a few hours of downtime, I cooked dinner and got ready for bed. The next morning, the third of my trip, was supposed to be rainy and cold, at least according to a forecast I'd read before heading west from Coffee Creek. Some clouds blew in over the top of Sawtooth Ridge just before dark, but later in the night when I woke up and stuck my head outside the tent, there was nothing in the sky but stars. I went back to sleep wondering what the morning (and another planned, steep series of ascents) would bring.

#hiking #camping #backpacking #walking #photos #trip report #writing #trinity alps #norcal #northern california #mountains

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sleepy-vix · 9 months ago

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hi! i’m the person who asked for music recs the other day and i’m gonna tell you what i thought abt it them :)

for mitski, i listened to “once more to see you” and “francis forever”. so im already into mitski BUT ive never really heard once more to see you, which is why i was like ooo i rlly gotta listen to this. AND IM HAPPY I DID. i loved the “come inside and be with me, alone with me // alone with me, alone” and “then i wouldn’t have to scream your name atop of every roof in the city of my heart // if i could see you, once more to see you” parts because just ASGDJIKG. this song made me sad but in a comforting way if that makes sense 😭. i also listened to francis forever, and as a mitski fan this song is always up there on my ranking. it’s like the song that got me into mitski, how could i not like it ??? it’s also just always too relatable, everytime i hear it.

moving on! NEXT UP IS THE SMITHSSS! i also love the smiths, i listened to “heaven knows im miserable now”, “i know its over”, and “there is a light that never goes out”. heaven knows im miserable now is such a real song, it was like the second (i think??) song that i listened to from the smiths, i feel like when someone looks at me they can tell id like this song 😭. then there’s i know its over. this song feels like slowly drowning, but not in a bad way. like you’re in one of those movies where the main character is sinking under the water and the light blue light from the top slowly fading away, and they just let it happen. it’s a gentle song, yet a sad song imo. and lastly for the smiths, there is a light that never goes out. this song used to be on all of my relationship playlists, it reminds me of happier times. it was the first song from the smiths i ever heard, and i think it’s the same for a lot of ppl. overall i loved the smiths

then laufeyy. i’ve listened to a few of her songs before but i don’t think i’ve heard “above the chinese restaurant” and “promise” before (two of the songs i listened to. i also listened to “falling behind” :) above the chinese restaurant was such a good song i was surprised ive never heard it. even though its something in my usual music genre, i really enjoyed it. it was such a sweet yet soft and sad song (i keep thinking every song is sad for some reason😭) it gives me “sometimes you don’t know you love something until it’s gone/ you don’t know you need something until it’s lost” type vibes. falling behind had such a nice tune, i could see myself listening to this on loop lol. (its a little too relatable tho, not in a bad way ofc) next up was promise, OMG i heard the first part and i was like in love with this song already. it’s omg i omg, i’m just 😭 almost cried listening to this song genuinely. it described almost exactly how i feel rn in such a perfect way i’m in love with this song.

and now into some stuff i haven’t heard before:

asleep among endives (ichiko aoba). so i don’t know what she’s singing about, but i already know without translation that its real. the vibe of this song is so relaxing, it reminds me of waking up at 4-5am when i was little for roadtrips and being so tired but i stay up because i want to see the sunrise. and then when the sunrise comes, that’s this song. this song feels like the first light of the day. it feels refreshing.

yumeutsutsu (lamp). this was another relaxing song, it felt like when it rains and the sun is out so you’re sure you’ll see a rainbow. it feels like looking for loved ones in the stars, it felt bittersweet and melancholic.. even though i don’t know what she’s singing about (i’d look up the translation but like that’s a lot of work 😞)

NOW TV GIRL!! i love tv girl and i had a huge tv girl phase just a little while ago, i still like them but i also listen to other music now lol. when i was in my phase all i listened to was tv girl 😭. but for tv girl i listened to “cynical one”. i really liked this song it felt like a reflection pond.

THATS IT FOR MY REVIEW!! sorry for leaving this whole essay in your inbox i did NOT mean to write this much omg 😭

NO THATS TOTALLY OKAY. I WISH I KNEW WHO U WERE CUS YOUR TASTE IS SO IMMACULATE AGHSBSJS

now that ik more abt ur music taste i can recommend a few more!

for the smiths- frank sinatra. theyre not the same but alot of ppl who enjoy the smiths enjoy frank sinatra too in my experience. i recommend "somethin' stupid" and "the world we knew"

for tv girl - i reccomend femme fatale by velvet underground

also for tv girl - i recommend music by the strokes. my favourites are "call it fate, call it karma", "the adults are talking", and "welcome to japan"

for laufey, i recommend any song by matt maltese. my favs by him are "you deserve an oscar" and "curl up and die"

i also recommend eloise if u rlly like laufey. "trick of the moon" is her most popular song, i believe.

that's all for now !

also, i dont mind the anon thing but could u pick an emoji to sign off with so ik its u? :)

have a nice day !

#asks

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racinggirl · 2 years ago

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safe haven || charles leclerc 16

type: one shot pairing: charles leclerc x reader word count: 1.5k summary: charles taking care of you whilst you're sick at home requested: yes! “Hi :) First of all, I loove your writing! It's immaculate! Saw you're taking requests and I was wondering if you could do one, where reader is sick (the flu or smth?) and Charles (or anyone you want) takes care of them? Like really fluffy? Thank you so much and have a wonderful week :))” (by anon) Yeeees girl, who doesn't want fluff Charles boyfriend??? Requests are OPEN!!! warnings: mentions of being sick, mentions of !covid!, tons and tons of fluff, not proofread! notes: I'm sooooo sorry it took so long! I just had such a big writersblock and I didn't had the motivation to write anything atm. I will try to write more, I promise! Also, I hope you'll love it! I just wrote it in about an hour or so. I lowkey like it, but if you have tips or just things you really like about my writing and want to see more of, just lmk and hmu!

My masterlist

‘’I hate being sick.’’

‘’I know baby, I know, but I’m here okay? I’ll take care of you.’’

Those were the words you needed more than anything at this exact moment, in which you were on the couch in your boyfriends apartment in Monaco, your back leaning against his strong chest, his arms wrapped around you protectively. You felt safe, more than anywhere else in the world, because he was your home, your safe haven.

It all started a few days ago, you weren’t feeling too good after the Hungarian Grand Prix, but you tried to brush it off. Just a cold, at least, that’s what you thought. You made sure to do a COVID-19 test just in case, even though corona wasn’t really a subject people talked about anymore, at least, the illness, not the drink, people loved the drink.

Negative, thankfully, so you weren’t too worried about the fact you might have to go in quarantine. Just a cold, right?

No, things got worse, from a running nose to coughing, as well as stomach pains and headaches. You had the flu, and it was horrible. You never got sick, not even a cold would get you, usually. But right now, you could curse the whole world and space, because you absolutely hated it.

You tried to keep your cool, not wanting your boyfriend to worry about you, he had enough on his mind with the final adjustments before summer break. But he wasn’t one to fool, he knew something was going on.

‘’Baby, are you okay?’’ Charles had noticed you were a little less active when you came back home. Normally you’d drag him out for a walk around the harbour, watching the sunset in the evening, or the sunrise in the early hours. But this time, you’d just head straight to the couch, curling up under the blanket.

‘’Did I put the air-conditioning too high?’’ He frowned the moment you reached for the black fluffy blanket underneath your tv.

‘’No, no, it’s fine.’’ You mumbled, a sneeze and a cough giving away your current state.

‘’Are you sick?’’

‘’…’’

‘’Baby?’’

‘’Yes, I think I am.’’ You mumbled, curling up more underneath the blankets.

Charles smiled weakly, making his way towards the couch as he took a seat next to you, his arms carefully wrapping around your shivering body.

‘’No, I don’t want you to get sick too.’’ You whispered, moving in your boyfriends arms, but you too knew, he was stronger than you, so after just a few seconds of trying to get out of his grip, you gave up, your head resting against his chest as you closed your eyes.

‘’Then we’ll be sick together.’’ He said, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

‘’Charles, I’m serious.’’ You mumbled, removing your head from his chest to look up into his eyes, a sigh escaping your lips.

He simply shrugged his shoulders and pulled you closer, just to give you a peck on your lips. He didn’t care. He wanted to take care of you, because he loved you.

It stayed like that for a few days, you had zero energy, sleeping for almost the entire day, while Charles took care of you, handing you your tea, as well as providing you with the best movies (he picked them).

‘’Babe, you need to go to work.’’ You were on the same position again, under the same blankets – who had been washed twice already by your boyfriend who insisted on washing the blankets everyday to give you a ‘fresh one’ each day – while Charles was making your lemon tea in the kitchen.

‘’They don’t mind if I’m a bit later, it’s summer break anyways.’’ He told you, cutting up the apple slices just the way you liked it.

‘’They do, baby, they want to celebrate their summer break too. I’m fine okay? I’m feeling a little better already.’’ You said, looking at the Monégasque as he walked to the couch, eyes focussed on the tea so it wouldn’t spill, he had filled it to the top.

‘’A little, which doesn’t mean a lot, so I’m now turning on the tv for you and putting on another Harry Potter movie, okay? And I’ll get your sweater in case you get cold and-‘’

‘’Charles!’’ You laughed, a small smile on your lips as you watch your boyfriend ramble on about the things he was going to do for you.

‘’I can do things myself too, you know?’’ You smiled sweetly, his face confused and searching for the right words.

‘’But…’’

‘’No, no buts, you get your ass to work, I’ll be fine, okay?’’ You shot him a reassuring smile, one he knew was sincere.

After a few seconds, he decided to agree, after trying to search for excuses, which you only rejected. He left for work, but told you he’d be home as soon as possible so you two could order food from your favourite restaurant.

He was an angel, he really was. Every morning he would prepare your tea, cut up your fruits because he knew you didn’t like to eat bread in the morning. Everyday he would give you a little more food, knowing you slowly started to gain your appetite again. Every afternoon he would prepare a lunch, as well as a movie the two of you would watch together. He gave you kisses, which you tried to avoid because you did not want him to get sick too. Every evening he would either order or prepare dinner, and prepare a bath for the two of you to enjoy after chilling on the couch the entire day. After that, he would make the bed, turn on the candles in the bedroom, and give you a massage. He was the perfect boyfriend, and you loved him more every second of every day.

As soon as he came home that evening, he did exactly what he said he would. He ordered dinner, cuddled you on the couch, watching the movie you were currently watching, and waited for dinner to arrive.

After dinner he ran upstairs to prepare the bath, spreading rose pedals he bought the other day all over the floor and bath, filling it up with your favourite scented bath gel and candles for the romantic vibe.

‘’You know.’’ You whispered, leaning against his chest, the warmth of the water around you giving you tingles all over your body.

‘’Hmm?’’ Charles hummed, his chin resting on the top of your head, his arms wrapped around your body to pull you close to him, his breath moving some baby hairs on the top of your head.

‘’I think I should be sick more often.’’ You whispered, eyes closing as you felt his chest move, a low chuckle leaving his lips. He smiled, his hands drawing small circles on your stomach, the circles slowly turning into little hearts.

‘’I think you shouldn’t, because you keep avoiding my kisses.’’ He whispered, his breath hitting your temple since you had turned your head to the side, making you able to hear his heartbeat. His heartbeat, which was slow, relaxed, because he had you in his arms.

‘’I’m only doing that because I don’t want you to get sick, but you aren’t really helping.’’ You giggled, your hand moving to his upper leg, nails scratching his skin in the warm water.

‘’I won’t get sick.’’ He smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple. ‘’My immune system is the best.’’ He smirked, in which you rolled your eyes with a smile as a response.

Once you got out of the bath, he made sure to wrap a towel around your body, doing the same for himself afterwards. He smiled at you, that smile that made you feel at home, safe, here with him.

He was about to lean in to press his lips to yours, when he turned away from you, making you frown. But the reason made you laugh, a smirk on your lips. He coughed, a sneeze following afterwards.

‘’That was just a coincidence.’’ He mumbled, but soon after coughed again, making you raise your eyebrow, the smirk still plastered on your face.

‘’You won’t get sick, huh?’’ You smirked, arms crossed in front of your chest as you let out a laugh, watching your boyfriend cough another time.

He looked at you, his towel moving over his face, a groan escaping his lips. He removed the towel, looking at you as he stepped closer, pulling you in his arms.

‘’At least this means I get to kiss you now, because you’ve already infected me.’’ And with that, he pressed his lips to yours, kissing you softly while the candles slowly dimmed. They lasted for at least four evenings.

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wardenparker · 3 years ago

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From Dorne, with Love - part 3

Oberyn Martell x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Your little sister is marrying her fairy tale princess on the exotic desert island nation of Dorne. Your soon-to-be sister-in-law’s playboy uncle is the other member of the wedding party along with you, but will your opposite approaches to life drive you apart before the ceremony even begins? Or is it possibly the beginning of a future you never thought possible?

Rating: E is for Explicit, my lovelies! Word Count: 8.8k Warnings: *Some instances of reader being pig-headedly stubborn and some ‘ugly American’ moments, but we learn and grow in this house. Another one of our patented shitty families.* Soft dom/sub tones, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, size kink, begging, praise. Mentions of family member death. Summary: A visceral dream leads you to knock on Oberyn’s door before sunrise on Lily and Aja’s wedding day. Notes: I...I just...I fucking love Oberyn so much, okay?

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Epilogue

It’s the rumble outside your windows that wakes you as much as your dreams do. Thunder without rain isn’t something you’ve seen before, but it shakes the earth and seems to rattle your windows all the same - tearing you away from the beautiful dream of Oberyn’s hands on your body that you had been having right before the chandelier hanging from your bedroom ceiling rattled riotously.

Wake up burning and throbbing… that had been his prediction, and the fact that he was right made you both want to go across the hall and insist he take care of it, and also hide in this bed for all eternity. The proud part of your mind felt a little bit played - but why? Why did the fact that dreaming about him had made you wetter than the Atlantic Ocean have anything to do with the fact that he had said he hoped for it? It’s a coincidence. And maybe one that you could actively choose not to be afraid of.

A few days. Pleasure and honesty by choice. You can do that. Right?

Crawling out from under the silken duvet, you grab the equally luxurious robe you had put on after your shower last night while you sat up reading in the huge bed, and pull it on over your tank top and panties. Nothing more or less than that goes on as you slip across the hall to Oberyn’s door, knocking lightly and wondering if he might be a heavy sleeper.

******

Despite the late hours he tends to keep, Oberyn doesn’t sleep much. Awake and working on his speech for the couple, wanting to make sure that it shows his complete love for Aja and his delight in her finding her partner in life, had him sitting at the writing desk in his family room. The knock on the door pulls him away from his words and he frowns slightly, putting his pen down and standing up to stride to the door. He doubts it’s you, so he wonders what has happened.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” He’s in his own robe when he opens the door, though you’re surprised to note that it’s tied closed - you had anticipated immediately finding out whether or not he sleeps naked.

“No.” He’s immediately opening the door a little wider, the invitation to come inside silent but there. “I was making sure my speech was perfect.” He motions towards the windows. “Did the storm bother you?”

“I’m a light sleeper.” You slip inside easily and let the door fall shut behind you. “Is this okay?” The insecurity in there, even if just a second ago you were feeling much bolder. “I don’t want to bother you, I just…had an interesting dream…”

“What did I say last night, Iris?” Oberyn asks, the lights in his apartments were low, the windows still dark outside.

Slowly you nod, fingers toying nervously with the tie of your robe. “That’s why I came.”

“Oh really?” His brow lifts and he watches you, admiring the way that you seem to shy slightly, even though you are putting on a brave face. “What can I do for you, sweet Iris?” His voice lowers, watching your fingers twisting in the ties.

“I just thought…it seemed silly to take care of it myself.” The pulsing heat between your thighs thinking about how he had manhandled you in the dream is nearly agonizing - you actually can’t remember the last time you were this turned on - but it’s still a terrifying thing you’re about to ask. “When you could do it for me?”

His grin is slow, sensual. “It does seem silly.“ He agrees wholeheartedly, gesturing for you to come closer

Years ago you might have sauntered over to him, fully confident in what you’re asking for and brave enough to just leave a trail of your clothes from his sitting room to his bedroom. This morning you’re anything but confident, but determined to pretend. Fake it til you make it, as Lily says.

He watches as you walk over to him, the world seeming to weigh on your shoulders. His fingers hook under your chin when you are in front of him and he lifts it until you are looking him in the eyes instead of staring at the floor. “Tell me what you want.” He orders you. “Do you want me to take control? Or do you want to set the tone?” He’s offering to take the decisions off your shoulders, to ease the burden, but only if you want it. You are too important to his Aja, and surprisingly, to him, to misstep.

“I—” For the umpteenth time since last night, you remind yourself to breathe, and to be honest with him. That’s the only way this is going to help you in the least and there’s no use pretending otherwise. “I need you to be in charge,” you nod slightly, not able to look away because he still has your chin carefully tilted upward. “Just this…this first time.”

Oberyn smirks, hoping that would be your answer. “Red, yellow, green.” He offers you, giving you the option to change the tone if you need to. “Understand?”

“Yes.” Giving him control is a measure of trust that seems superhuman for you at the moment, but if everything goes to hell you’ll just catch the first flight out of Sunspear International tomorrow morning after the wedding and go back to your kitchen knowing that opening up your heart again simply isn’t a possibility for the future. “I understand.”

“Good.” Oberyn moves quickly, pressing you back until you're nearly bumping into a sideboard, before your back is against the wall. Fingers quickly undoing the knot in your robe sash and pulling it open as he sinks to his knees in front of you. “These are cute.” He murmurs, leaning in and pressing a kiss to the top of your mound, over the fabric.

“And completely replaceable.” Your voice waivers with the suggestion, but it’s as much lust as it is nerves — as if he can’t possibly miss the smell of your arousal through the thin cotton.

He hums, smirking as he grips the fabric and shreds it under the force of his hands and pulls them away from your body to reveal your cunt.

“Fuck…” It comes out on a gasp and nearly a whine. You knew he would be strong enough to make it seem effortless and it has you pressing your thighs together insistently as your body begs for relief.

He isn’t shy, lifting your leg and spreading it wide while one hand spreads the lips of your sex. Chuckling when he sees the arousal glistening in the low light and he wastes no time ducking his head down and latching onto your clit.

One hand whips to the wall to grasp for purchase and the other threads through Oberyn’s short hair as you moan much more loudly than expected. You really wouldn’t have considered yourself touch starved - after all you have plenty of friends and good, playful relationships with your coworkers - but this is a very different sort of touch. One your body has been desperate for for a very long time.

Humming, he twirls his tongue around your clit before letting it go. Opening his mouth wider and flattening his tongue through your folds. He wants you to feel every suck, every lick to the very marrow of your bones.

When your knees buckle his hand is there to hold you up, and you can swear you feel him chuckle straight into your cunt. Even the women who had been between your legs before always treated it as a chore to eat you out - if they ever did it at all - but Oberyn’s attitude toward the thing seems to be completely different. He pushes deeper when your nails scratch along his scalp. Sucks harder every time you let out a breathless moan. And it’s heaven to not feel as though you’ve burdened him with your own desire.

There’s a part of him that wants to draw this out, to see how long he can keep you balanced on a knife’s edge. To hear you beg when you can finally take no more teasing and you plead for him to make you cum. To see if you would demand it in tugging on his hair. He might do it once you are accustomed to cumming by someone else’s hand or tongue or in his case, cock. Now, he just wants to see how you look when you cum for him. Needs to see it.

The tipping point for you comes when Oberyn slips two fingers deeply inside you, curling them against your g-spot until you’re crying his name over and over, the sound bouncing off the walls of his rooms like the echo of original sin.

There is something beautiful about watching a woman fall apart. The breathy cries you give and the way your body sucks his fingers deeper while your walls flutter around them. He keeps sucking and pumping them deeper, helping you ride it out.

“Jesus…” Instead of crumbling forward you manage to fall back, chest heaving with the effort of catching your breath and holding yourself upright on shaky legs at the same time. If you didn’t have Oberyn below you, you might have just collapsed into the ground with a giggle.

Oberyn’s robe is open across his thighs, revealing his achingly hard cock as it curves up and bobs proudly. He ignores it, instead kisses your clit several more times and massages your hip before he leans back and puts your leg down. “Color?” He asks smugly.

“Green.” Your head bobs automatically, even though you’re still catching your breath. Even if this is all that ever happens - which doesn’t seem likely given the pleased expression on Oberyn’s face - the whole agreement would be worth having. Pleasure without pain, that’s all you’ve wanted for years.

He pats your leg, leaning in and kissing a thigh before he rocks up onto his feet and stands in front of you. Pushing the robe off your shoulders to let it fall to the floor in a puddle of silk, he hums and slides your tank top up, urging you to lift your arms and when it is over your face, he bends down and wraps his lips around one of your pert nipples.

The sheen of your own essence on his lips and chin is sticky on your breasts, but you couldn’t care less about that as he rolls one pert nipple around with his tongue. His open robe lets him press his own gorgeous nude form - you just knew he slept naked - and the hot hardness of his cock trapped between you has you getting wet all over again. He suckles like he’s going to feed, nuzzling into your breast and pulling on it harshly. Reaching around you to squeeze your ass before he releases you with a pop. “Bedroom.” He growls.

He has left the door of that particular room open this morning so you have no trouble identifying which direction to move in even though he’s leading you there with sure, steady steps that contrast with your wobbly ones highly. “I’m…um, um safe. The pill, I mean. And I’m clean.” You tell him before he devours your mouth with another kiss. Just because you were in a self-imposed celibacy bubble doesn’t mean you weren’t keeping track of your health.

“I have used condoms with all my lovers since my last clean bill of health.” Oberyn confides. “I would like to feel you without a barrier between us, but that is your choice.”

“Do they make special extra large magnums for you or something?” He knows he’s well-endowed, there’s no reason to be coy about it, but you do shoot him a wry grin. After even one orgasm by someone other than yourself, you’re feeling much more relaxed. “I’m alright with not using them.”

Oberyn snorts and shakes his head. “No man should ever say they ‘can’t’ wear a condom, they are lying through their teeth.”

“Obviously.” When the backs of your legs hit his mattress, the impulse to sit is automatic. “And most men who claim to need Magnums absolutely don’t.”

Oberyn smirks and unties his own robe to toss it off. “How about me, Iris?” He hums, stalking you like he would prey. Serpentine and ready to strike as he chases you back on the bed.

“Extra large magnums,” you repeat, surprising yourself when you smirk at him and lay down on his golden silk sheets rather than backing up all the way to the headboard.

“Good answer.” Oberyn chuckles, kissing your hip and scattering them up your chest and throat before hovering over you. “Now, this is the view I imagined all night last night.”

“Thought about it a lot, did you?” That sends a little thrill through your body completely independent of the way he’s lavishing attention on you. It’s a heat that you don’t really have the right words to describe - or if you ever did, you’ve long since forgotten them - but your legs have no problem falling open to allow him to slither up your body at any angle he wishes.

“All night.” He confesses with no shame. “Wanted to pull you over in a secluded corner and make you cum the moment I saw you in that dress.” He kneels, lifting one leg then the other up onto his shoulder and wraps his hand around his cock, sliding himself through your folds.

“Oh my—” There is absolutely no comparison between your trusty dildo and a real fucking cock and the way he slides through your folds so easily is making you dizzy despite the fact that you’re lying down. “Wait until you see the dress I brought for the other part—fuck,” he’s teasing you with a knowing smirk on his face and you’re fully prepared to beg for him now that you’ve had a taste of what he’s capable of. “Fuck, Oberyn, please.”

He bites his lip, enjoying the feel of your slickness on his cock. Pushing himself to your entrance and feeling you try to open, to accept him inside you. “That’s what I want to hear.” He coos. “Yes, please, more, and ‘oh fuck I’m cumming’.” He pushes the tip in, going maddening slow as he starts to break you open.

You would be embarrassed to whimper if it didn’t feel so goddamn good, but as it is you’re nearly whining. “Want to feel all of you baby, please.”

Oberyn groans, loving how prettily you beg. Still he rolls his hips forward slowly, listening to you whine and feeling you try to grind down on him but with your legs up on his shoulders, all you can do is take what he has to give. Feeding his length into you measuredly until he’s halfway inside your tight cunt.

“Don’t stop.” At this point you’ll be feeling him in your throat if there’s much more to fill you with, but you’re happy to fight a funny walk going down the aisle at your little sister’s wedding in twelve hours if that’s what it means to take him fully. “God, please don’t stop.”

“No in-intention of it.” Oberyn grits out between his teeth. Panting slightly when your inner muscles contract and squeeze him. “Fuck.” He spits out, not even thinking as his hips snap forward and the remaining inches of his cock bury themselves in your body.

You both curse together, breathing gone ragged when his hips are flush against your body. You can’t help how you whimper, so full of him that it overwhelms any other sensation. Pleasure is the only thing in your mind - just him and how he makes you feel. Which at this moment is divine.

“By the old gods, you feel incredible.” He praises, holding himself still while you flutter around him, holding your legs and turning to run kisses up and down your calf and knee while he lets you get used to having him inside you.

“Oberyn…” you can just reach his hip in this position, fingers kneading his flesh insistently. “Move, lover. It’ll be even better.”

He nips your skin, making you gasp as he grins, pulling his hips back and leaning in to push your legs towards your body before he plunges back into you. The pace he sets is torturously slow but always deep, letting you feel every ridge and vein of his length on each stroke. Your old habit of babbling praise while being fucked is back with gusto, something you had lost but is apparently so deeply ingrained in you that all you can repeat over and over on broken, gasped breaths is how good he feels and he big he is inside you, and how you never want him to stop.

He plants his hands on either side of your body, holding himself over you and slowly working himself in and out of your cunt. Wanting you to enjoy this as much as possible. “Perfect. So fucking perfect.”

Your second orgasm builds quickly despite the almost lazy pace. For years it’s been you and your toys, taking care of cravings quickly and efficiently. This morning is the complete opposite of that and you feel both spoiled and indulged in so many different ways.

“That’s it.” Oberyn coos, sliding a hand down your leg to let his thumb start rubbing circles against your clit. “Cum for me, Iris. Want you to shout my name again.”

You won’t have any trouble with that instruction, not with the way he’s stroking your clit and hitting pleasure zones deep in your body that you didn’t even know you had. When your body starts to coil and tense again under him you feel like you’re practically sobbing his name - chanting it as one of your hands grips his arm and the other kneads mindlessly at your tits, pinching and tugging the nipples for every possible feeling of pleasure you’re capable of.

When you start to cum, Oberyn changes his tempo. Instead of the slow and deep thrusts he had been pacing himself with, he goes nearly feral. The harsh, deep slaps of his hips against the back of your ass makes your cunt squelch, trying to suck him back in while he’s pulling out to drive into you again.

If he wants to hear you shout, this is exactly the way to achieve that. Your back arches off the bed with every thrust, punching the breath right out of you each time until there’s nothing left - just a boneless and cock drunk formerly celibate chef still being fucked into the mattress. Dorne really is paradise.

“Fuck, fuck.” Oberyn pants out. “Tight cunt’s gonna make me cum.” He spits the words with every punishing roll of his hips. Feeling like every thrust takes him deeper into your body, the tip of his cock feeling like he could be a battering ram against your womb if not for the angle. “One more.” He insists. “Give me one more.”

“Oberyn!” The unhinged way he fucks you through your orgasm with punishing thrusts rolls you right over into another peak that has you nearly screaming his name as you bear down on him again with sparks bursting behind your eyes.

Grunts and moans pour from his mouth, filthy and nearly angry sounding as he chases his own pleasure. Holding himself back from cunning too soon, he keeps fucking into you as if it’s the last thing he will do on this earth, pushing himself lower and letting your legs slide down his shoulders to widen them, open them up so he can feel more of you.

He is everywhere, filling every sense and blocking out the whole rest of the world as he hits impossibly deeper inside you and pushes you up to newer heights. If you’ve ever felt this good before it was far too long ago to remember. Your fingers are twisted in the bedsheets, holding on like it’s your only connection left to earth while you continue to chant praises and his name.

“Fuck.” Your legs fall to his waist, Oberyn lowering himself to his elbows and covering you with his body as he presses his lips to yours. So fucking close, he feels the tingling at the base of his spin, grunting as he tips over the edge and surges forward, his own orgasm taking over.

The kiss is like a lifeline, keeping you from floating away as he empties himself into you, and it’s possible you’ve never been as grateful for modern birth control as you are now. It’s not until he breaks away that you can feel your walls start to go back up: just a little at a time while his lips trail kisses across your skin, but the inevitability of going back to your room to deal with the emotional fallout of this decision all alone is slightly terrifying.

There is a moment when he just nuzzles into the side of your neck and breathes in the scent of sex and you. Sighing softly and pulling back to watch you. Noticing that there’s not quite the soft, open look in your eyes anymore, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead he leans in and kisses your lips softly once more. “Lay right here, Iris.” He orders as he gently pulls out of your body. “I will start the bath. You relax”. His hands can’t help but caress your skin as he goes to leave the bed.

It takes a full minute - much longer than you’re proud of - for you to process anything beyond being told to stay put. Your stubborn mind has conjured images of him returning with your clothing to send you back across the hall, but the sound of running water from the next room has you crawling out of his bed on weak legs to investigate.

His tub is deep and wide, perfect for soaking and relaxing into the large porcelain vessel. Hot water is mixed with special oils and he even tosses in a handful of the dried flower petals and herbs that will make the water fragrant and ease aching muscles that you have not been using. Oberyn looks up as you walk in and gives you a smile. “I was going to come and get you.” He promises, knowing that you are curious.

“Is that…for me?” And why does that nearly have you in tears? The stark labels and elaborate shape of the glass bottles by the tub speak to expense, the dried herbs and flowers blooming in the water hitting your senses a moment before the other scents. It’s all luxurious, and definitely the opposite of handing you your clothes with a shrug and a ‘this was fun’.

“Of course.” He doesn’t roll his eyes or huff, very cognizant of your last lover’s effects on your self-esteem. “I know you will be sore and this will allow you to ease that.” He gives you a small wink. “Still need you to dance at your sister’s wedding.” He sets a thick, fluffy towel on the warming rack and nods towards a closed door. “Facilities are right there if you need them. I’m going to bring you some water.”

Your hand is on his arm before he can move past you, pulling him closer so you can wrap your arms around his shoulders and murmur a quiet, “Thank you,” in his ear. While that’s very literally the least you can do - show him that you appreciate what he’s doing for you - it rolls through you like a burst of the thunder that still sounds outside.

“Thank you.” He murmurs back, pressing his lips to your cheek. You have trusted him with things that you’ve not trusted anyone with for years. “I’ll be back with your water, love.”

Your head swivels to follow him as he leaves, jaw held tight instead of hanging open. Just a slip of the tongue, you tell yourself when you shake off the sound of his voice saying that word. He calls his partners ‘lover’, it was just a slip of the tongue. An incomplete word. Nothing more. Nothing more. Because anything more would be unthinkable.

It is a quick trip to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of sparkling water out of the fridge to take back to you. Leaving it on the edge of the tub while you are in the water closet. Humming to himself, he leaves the bathroom to make his way back to the kitchen, deciding that he will make his chef breakfast to start today. Orgasms and food always make his own day right.

The heated tub and sweet-smelling bath would have been enough to have you nearly falling back to sleep if your mind weren’t moving so fast. What you’ve done is an enormous step forward and yet your own fears seem relatively muted. Are they there? Absolutely. But are they screaming at you and tearing apart the experience the way you expected? Not really. It’s more like a dull heartache pressing on your chest while you contemplate whether or not this will change anything for you. Whether Oberyn will simply be a memorable point in your history or if a week in his bed might really be a chance to reawaken yourself.

******

Music is something that he enjoys while cooking, so the speakers pour out some lighthearted tunes as he rummages around, pulling ingredients out to make breakfast. It will be hours before the party officially starts and he knows there will be plenty of food then, but for now, he’s ravenous after such a wonderfully surprising morning. You were more than he ever expected and he wants to spoil you, already more attached than he anticipated.

When you wander out of the bathroom a half an hour later wrapped in one of his soft, warm, oversized towels, the smell of hot food draws you to the kitchen with a small smile twisting in your lips. He moves with grace, small dance steps naturally mixing into his movement as he glides around his kitchen in that loosely tied robe that had been discarded on his bedroom floor not too long ago. “What’s all this?” Even though he’s tidy it’s clear that there is plenty going on - plates out and glasses set at the corner of his large table just like yesterday afternoon.

He looks up, an immediate smile on his face. “I would think a chef would be able to sniff out what is going on. Don’t you, Iris?” He winks and motions to the table. “You are welcome to sit down in the very fashionable towel or without it. I don’t mind at all.”

“Smells like shakshuka.” The spicy-sweet mix of cumin, chili, and tomato scents in the air is a giveaway even though the pan is in the oven. The tray on the counter has bowls of hummus, tzatziki, and what looks like a lot of crumbled feta cheese with red onion, herbs and olive oil. On a large tray beside it, a small stack of fried bread slices has just come out of a skillet. “Do all your flings get treated this well, or did I do something special to warrant being spoiled?” You smirk at him, coming up to lean against his side at the counter. “Because if so, I want to make sure I do it every time.��

Oberyn smirks back at you and drops a kiss on your lips. “I’ll let you figure that one out on your own, keep you coming back.” He teases, nodding towards his espresso machine. “It’s ready to make a drink if you want one.”

“God, yes,” you groan, gratefully kissing him back before rounding him to get to the machine. “I’m definitely awake.” How could you not be after your morning exercise? “But without caffeine I’ll be standing next to Lily at the altar with a massive migraine.”

“I understand.” Oberyn grins. “I’m the same way.” He finishes up and starts bringing everything over to the table. “Nothing is closer to heaven than fresh espresso.”

“Have you had one or should I pull another?” The sleek, shiny Italian espresso machine on his counter is just like the one you learned on in Sicily eons ago and the one that sits in the restaurant behind the bar, so you could probably operate it in your sleep.

He shakes his head. “I wanted to share the first coffee of the day with you.” He answers, going back to the counter to bring the other bowls over to the table.

It could be called a romantic gesture, and the heat in your cheeks makes your whole face burn while you go about pulling two espresso shots in the neat little demi cups he has lined up next to the machine. “This is all very sweet of you.” You could tell him he doesn’t have to. That it’s not necessary. And that would be true. But when you sit down next to him at the table with two double shots of espresso, wrapped up in his towel, you lean over to kiss him softly first. “I was thinking…in the bath…about things. About…us. And what this week might end up being.”

“Have you made any decisions?” He asks, pouring you some fresh strawberry mango juice to go with your breakfast before pouring his own glass. He knows what he would say, but he is not you. Experiences and expectations are different and he respects that you might not be as forward as he is in life.

“It didn’t feel right to make decisions with you.” Considering the entire arrangement depends on both of you enjoying yourself, it felt like it would defeat the whole purpose if you were simply to inform him of what was to happen.

He gives you a slow grin, nodding in agreement. “So what do you propose then, Iris?”

“Nothing complicated.” Whatever coffee he keeps on hand is delicious, and the first sip has your eyes shutting briefly in appreciation. “Just…a week of pleasure. Whatever sights of Dorne you decide I should see, and whatever time in bed we want to spend…” when your open eyes drifts up again, his are on you with a fondness that makes you smile. “I think that while I’m here, I want to spend my time with you. However much you have of it to spare.”

“Embrace the present?” Oberyn takes a sip of his own espresso and gives a small sigh of satisfaction. “My calendar is clear for the week.” He reveals. “So my time is yours.”

“Embrace the present. Exactly.” And while that’s something you haven’t done in a very long time, with Oberyn it somehow seems possible.

“Tomorrow should be spent in bed.” He suggests. “The sun will have risen by the time we drag ourselves away from the celebration. Everyone will be recovering.”

“I can’t think of a single objection to that plan.” Especially not after this morning. A whole day in his bed sounds like more Dornish paradise. “Maybe the day after we can go into the city? Lily’s completely in love with Sunspear and I’m sort of dying to see it.” With everything in front of you, you reach to take a few pieces of bread from the trayin between you at the table and decide which garnishes you want with your breakfast.

“I will take you to the old city.” Oberyn hums, pleased with your interest in his country. “All of my favorite places.”

“Aja says you like music?” The quiet melodies playing from his kitchen speakers are a giveaway, and it makes you smile to see the little things that keep him happy. “Is there a club or something you like to go to?”

“Several.” He chuckles. “How many we go to depends on how social you wish to be. You might be sick of people by tomorrow morning.” He teases lightly.

“I think a day in bed counts as good recovery time.” You smirk at him as you both start to serve yourselves in earnest. “I like people and I’m used to staying up late. I’m up for whatever you want to show me.” If this vacation is only meant to be once in a lifetime, you want to make sure it’s packed with things you’ll never forget.

“Oh you shouldn’t have said that.” Oberyn warns with a devilish smirk. “We will be out for hours and you will see spots in Dorne that no tourist ever sees.”

“That’s exactly what I was hoping you’d say.” One more sip and your espresso is gone, leaving you to happily dig into the gorgeous breakfast he put together. “And you have to let me cook for you at least one more time before I go.”

“My kitchen is yours whenever the mood strikes you.” He assures you. “Especially when I take you to our best kept secret. Dornish food stands have the most creative takes on street foods.”

“I’m going to go back to New York and be left desperately trying to find good Dornish take out, aren’t I?” It would be nice to adventure in your chosen city again, and you know you’ll be bargaining with food cart owners for spice blends before the week is out. This might have been a better idea than even you knew.

“Desperately.” He nods. “Although there is a small place on 102nd street that was amazing the last time I was in New York.” He takes a bite of his own food and hums happily.

“If you’re ever up my way again, we’ll have to go.” There’s a hint of warmth in your chest at that prospect, but you banish it to start eating. This is one week - he doesn’t owe you anything and he has plenty of others to keep him company aside from you.

He grins and throws you a wink. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He doesn’t want to promise anything, but he’s excited to get to spend this time with you. You challenge him, entice him like he has not had in a long time.

Breakfast is delicious, eaten while you chat about places to go or things to see during your few days in his country. Everything he’s mentioning makes you wish you had more time, but it will also make the time worth every memory. By the time your plates are clean the sun is up and the storm has passed. The desert sun will warm the palace grounds in no time from the slight overnight chill and everything will be perfect for the wedding. When you finally push back from the table it’s with a full belly and a happy sigh. “I should attend to our brides.” Dornish tradition doesn’t have any of the superstitions about the couple not seeing each other before the ceremony, so the three of you will be getting ready together in their suite.

“I will send champagne up with Hobard soon.” He stands and walks over to you to pull off his robe, leaving him totally nude to hand it to you. “Yours is in the wash already.” He explains, having cleaned up and discovered that he had gotten the material messy when he had eaten you out. “Wear this back to your rooms.” He insists.

“Thank you.” It smells like him, and if that wasn’t enough incentive to keep wearing it for a little while, nothing is. With the silk wrapped around you, you easily drop the towel you’ve worn through breakfast and lean in to kiss him. “I’ll leave the towel in the bathroom on my way out.” Another kiss, because he tastes sweet like the juice he had poured for both of you, and it makes you hum a little. “And I’ll see you tonight.”

“I’ll be the one standing near the altar with the tuxedo on.” He winks and can’t resist squeezing your ass, feeling cheeky seeing you in his robe.

“Save me a dance.” With one more quick kiss you’re out the door, slipping around the corner to leave your towel by the tub and hustle across the hall door clean for underwear. Today feels like anything is possible, and maybe it is.

******

“No mom, I don’t need help getting ready.” Lily rolls her eyes, knowing the last thing she needs is for her mother to ruin the mood. “Why don’t you come by in a few hours. You don’t want to sit here all day. Enjoy the use of servants and relax a little.” She says into the phone as there is a knock on her and Aja’s room door. If that’s what you called the large three-bedroom suite that was almost bigger than her childhood home.

“Hey guys!” You’re all sunshine and smiles when you slip inside still wearing Oberyn’s robe, but now with clean underwear and a bra underneath it. Your bridesmaid dress and everything that goes with it are hanging beside each of their dresses in their spare armoire. The second you see Lily is on the phone though, you clap one hand over your mouth. ‘Mom?’ You mouth the word and laugh when your sister rolls her eyes heavily in response.

“What? No that was the TV.” Lily reassures her mother. “I haven’t heard from her this morning.” It was a small lie, but one used to desperately preserve hers and your sanity. She loves her mother, she really does, but today is about her and Aja. She doesn’t want there to be any hard feelings when the inevitable ‘well I just think’s started.”

“She called twenty minutes ago,” Aja whispers when you sit down on the plush chaise lounge beside her.

“If Lily sends up breakfast and a mimosa, Mom will think she’s died and gone to heaven,” you murmur back, knowing the easiest way to get your mother to shut up is with spoiling.

Lily grabs onto the idea like a lifeline. “Mom, let me call down to the kitchens. Have the chef whip up something for you and dad. Breakfast and mimosas while you get ready?” Her plea is soft, but there. “How does that sound? The mother of the bride can’t help get me ready if she doesn’t look stunning already.”

You hear a happy, indulgent outburst on the other end of the phone, and you know the idea must have worked. Within seconds Lily is off the phone and sighing.

Lily rolls her eyes again and shakes her head. “Thank god for the miracle of vanity.” She huffs before she looks over at you and raises her eyebrow at your happy grin and positively glowing radiance this morning. “You look happy.”

“Of course, I’m happy.” You tilt your head at her, knowing that playing coy will only last so long. “It’s my baby sister’s wedding day.”

“Yeahhhhhhh.” Lily purses her lips at you and then glances over at Aja, watching her fiancée smirk. “That’s a decidedly masculine silk robe.” She observers, a small smile playing on her lips. “I think I’ve seen it before.”

Aja hums, grinning slightly at you before she winks at the woman she is going to marry today. “I gave my uncle one just like it for his birthday last year. It’s his favorite. Wears it all the time.”

“Do me a favour and say the phrase ‘masculine silk robe’ to yourself again and keep a straight face.” The grumble in your voice is mere sheepishness, however, and you roll your eyes at her even more heavily than she had at the phone. “I had breakfast with Oberyn, okay? I didn’t know it was going to start an inquisition.”

Lily’s face drops slightly, not wanting to put you on the spot since it seems to make that happy smile dim slightly. “As long as you are okay?” She asks, searching your face with more worry than she wanted to let on. She won’t tease you anymore, but she does want to make sure you are happy with your decision.

“Lils, hey…” You saw the way her smile flickers and you don’t want a single thing to dim this day for her - especially not if it’s something that’s actually happy. You move from Aja’s side to your sister’s immediately and draw her into a hug. “I was teasing, kid. There’s nothing to be upset about. Please don’t worry.”

“I just don’t want to see you unhappy.” Lily mumbles against your shoulder. “You’ve been unhappy long enough.”

Well, ya know…” With one arm still around her, you squeeze her to your side and kiss her hair. “My sister and her almost wife give really good advice. So, I decided to follow it.”

“Oh yeah?” Lily perks up and pulls away to give you a smirk. “And how was the advice? Did it turn out to be better than you expected? Please tell me that man didn’t disappoint. He’s my last hope for all men.”

That makes you nearly choke on a laugh, and you wrap Oberyn’s robe around your waist a little tighter. “If he’s their last hope, then all men are in very good hands.” You promise her, knowing that you’re probably smiling harder in this moment than you have in years.

“Thank god.” Lily snorts and Aja sniffs indignantly - though it’s just playful.

“I told you that uncle would never besmirch the Martell name.” She huffs at your sister. “I’ve taken pussy eating tips from him and you’ve never complained.”

“That’s because your uncle should be given an award or teach classes or something.” You smother an honest laugh with your hand, knowing that Aja has never once heard you talk about sex, and even Lily might not remember how crass you used to be back when you were dating. “Sorry, I just…I feel better.”

“An orgasm will do that.” Lily laughs. “Or was it multiple? He looks like a multiple orgasm type of lover.”

You grin at her, biting your lip with the admission: “I lost count.”

“The name Martell continues to hold up to the test.” Aja giggles. “Lil knows that firsthand.”

“It makes the whole eight kids a little less insane.” Having thought about it halfway through your bath, you could now absolutely see how men and women lined up around the block for him. It wasn’t a hard sell whatsoever.

“Right?” Aja huffs. “But he loves every single one of them. Desperately.”

“Well, today is about you two, not me.” You still have one arm around Lily and you reach to squeeze Aja’s hand as well before letting them both go. “Tell me what you need me to do. Anything at all and I’m yours.”

“We are getting married today!” Lily squeals excitedly, stars in her eyes. “The best thing you can do is to make sure that I don’t trip or have a stain on my dress before pictures.”

“I promise to prevent both of those things.” And if it’s the most sacred promise you make as her sister, you will fulfill it proudly.

A soft knock on the door barely interrupts your giggling, but Aja calls for whoever it is to enter and Hobard comes in wearing a particularly large smile. “Good morning your Highness. Ladies.” He nods to all of you as he walks in and sets the silver tray heavy with iced champagne and three glasses in his hands down on the table in front of where you’re sitting. “From your uncle Oberyn, your Highness. Is there anything I can bring up for you this morning?”

“This is perfect.” Aja smiles at the thoughtfulness of her uncle. “However, if we could have breakfast and mimosas sent to Lily’s parents?” She asks, turning her doe eyes on for the servant who had seen her run around the halls in a diaper.

“Of course.” His position has enabled him to watch this young woman grow from infant to bride, and nothing in the world would stop him from doing his part to make her wedding day perfect. Especially not the silliness of her future mother-in-law. “An American breakfast? Eggs Benedict and fresh fruit?”

Aja nods. “And some crepes, she has a fondness for crepes.” She adds, remembering how your mother raves about them.

“I’ll deliver them myself.” He promises, then turns on his heel and is gone again in a flash.

Lily looks over at you with a grin. “We have the stylist and makeup artist coming soon.” She tells you. “Shall we have some champagne, or do you need a shower to wash away your sins of the morning?” She asks, waggling her eyebrows playfully.

“The last hope for all men may have drawn me a bath while he made breakfast.” To admit that you let yourself be so incredibly vulnerable with him is something that you could only say to these two women - your sister is your best friend and Aja is just the most caring woman in the world. It feels more intimate than just an affair for the length of your vacation, but maybe that’s just who he is. A part of his appeal.

“So he fucked you right, drew a bath, and cooked you breakfast?” Lily sighs happily and chuckles. “He was just what you needed.”

You reach for the champagne, expertly popping the cork before you start to pour three glasses. “We plan on having a very nice week together.”

“I’m glad.” She is, she’s talked often about you and how you needed to have some fun. “To the best week ever!” She proposes once everyone has a glass.

“Here, here.” You tap your glass gently against theirs and smile. At 24, Lily has good friends, a home, a career she’s thriving in, and the woman she wants to spend her life loving. Who could ask for more than that?

******

The stylist and makeup artists soon arrive, working on all three of you to turn you into even more beautiful versions of yourself. Laughing and chatting with you as they work. The tap at the door interrupts the moment and Lily automatically rolls her eyes. “Mom.” She guesses.

“I’m on it.” You hop up from your seat ready to intervene by whatever means necessary, but find a very pleasant surprise on the other side of the door. “Oberyn.” He looks splendid in a gold linen shirt and tuxedo pants, clearly half-dressed for the wedding when he chose to stop and come knock on Aja and Lily’s door. “Here to see Aja?” Of course he is. Don’t be silly.

“Yes, but also to see if your beauty now matched this morning.” He slowly peruses your hair and makeup with a sensual smirk. “That hairstyle is going to look good, mussed on my pillows tomorrow morning.”

“My bed is going to feel sad and neglected when I’m never in it,” you flash him a wicked grin, feeling light and free from joking around with your sister and her fiancée all morning.

“We could always play musical beds.” Oberyn offers. “An orgasm in yours, then an orgasm in mine. Soak yours and the retreat to mine.”

“Intriguing.” Stepping back to let him in, you’re all smiles except for a momentary flicker of guilt. “I told them.” You tell him, nodding to the giggling couple by the windows. “I hope that’s okay?”

“Tell the world.” Oberyn shakes his head. “I am not ashamed of spending a beautiful morning with you. Eager to do it again.”

“I had a feeling they’d figure it out by tonight.” After all, you have no intention of pretending otherwise if anyone said something and you’re certainly not going to refuse affection during the reception.

“Undoubtedly.” Oberyn agrees, not even hesitating before he’s leaning in and pressing his lips to yours.

“By the gods, it’s true!” Aja can’t help but laugh, setting down her glass to applaud the kiss. “Uncle, you’re a miracle worker.”

Throwing his niece a playful scowl, he huffs and kisses you again, feeling your slight embarrassment. “Hush or I won’t give you your wedding present.” He threatens playfully.

His niece playful mimics locking her lips closed and throwing away the key. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she laughs, beckoning for both of you to come back over. Oberyn slides his hand around your waist and guides you over to the couple. Aja having her hair finished while Lily is still having her makeup perfected.

“You didn’t have to do anything.” Aja is well aware that her uncle took over many of the wedding planning duties from her father to avoid his rather tacky taste and will forever be grateful for it.

“Of course I did.” Oberyn huffs. “I have loved you since you were a babe at your mother’s breast.” He lets go of you and pulls two small boxes out of his pockets. One for Lily and the other he pauses before he hands it to Aja. “I wanted to give you something that had special meaning. These - these were your mother’s favorite earrings.” He tells her softly, emotional as he speaks of the sister he had loved desperately. “I had them made for her when she was a young woman and I kept them in remembrance of my Elia. And today I want her daughter to have them, hopefully loving them as much as she did.” He glances over at Lily with a smile. “For your lovely bride, I had the original jeweler make a matching pair. Except that there is a tiny ‘L’ etched onto the backs.”

“Uncle…” Aja’s gasp is audible as she cracks the small jewelry box open to find the small set of mother of pearl and diamond earrings that she so vividly remembers despite having lost her mother young. She buries herself in his side without hesitation, blinking back a few soft tears as they rise behind her eyes. “I wish she was here. That she could have met Lily…”

“I wish she was here too, sweetheart.” Oberyn pulls Aja close and kisses her forehead, careful not to muss her up. “She would have loved your Lily. Been so happy for you. I know she would have.”

“Father brought me her purse from their wedding to use today.” He had given it to her at the party last night and been proud of both of them for not ending the conversation in tears. “As my something old.”

“He loved her.” Oberyn might not care for the man, but he had loved his sister. “You do not need to wear them, I just—” He gives an inelegant shrug. “I wanted you to have a piece of her here.”

“Of course I’m going to wear them.” It didn’t matter a cent that she had carefully picked out jewelry for today, she would discard the set in favour of her mother’s things every time. “Having her with me means everything.”

Oberyn smiles, nodding in complete understanding. “She’ll be there Aj.”

"Thank you, uncle. For everything you've done. Truly." There is no one in the world who is closer to her heart that Lily, but her uncle Oberyn does run a close second. "I know mama is watching us both and wants us to be happy."

“Your mother is absolutely watching over us.” He murmurs, kissing her forehead again. “Remember what I told you when you were little. The most beautiful star in the sky.”

The few stories you know of Elia Martell Targaryen are all sweet tales of a loving young woman and it has become increasingly obvious to you since meeting more of Aja's family that those stories were not being told through the rose-coloured glasses of an adoring daughter - but that Elia truly was the sort of woman that everyone adored and could never say enough good things about. On the other end of the sofa, you reach for your little sister's hand and squeeze it gently. The idea of losing her tears you apart just thinking about it. You can't possibly wrap your head around how much Oberyn must truly miss his sister.

"She's the second meaning in your song." Your other hand reaches for Aja's and you offer her and Lily a smile. "Someone to Watch Over Me. You don't just have each other, you have Elia, too."

Oberyn blinks back tears and clear his throat, emotions heavy and today is one of joy. “I will leave you to finish getting ready and your father is already ready to walk you down the aisle, Aja.” He lets her know.

"It won't be too much longer now." She beams at him, hugging him again before she lets him go to stand.

“I will be watching for all of you.” He smirks at you and quickly makes his way out of the suite.

______

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