#thread: masquerade mingling

[bal-masque-des-grands-chapeaux]

General Chatting and Mingling

At a grand ball like this, there are many things to do- but one of the primary activities is surely the most fulfilling and scandalous of them all... gossiping!

This is a general thread for in-character chatting and gossiping with other party attendees, if you'd like. Even if you did not receive an invitation to this ball, you are welcome to come chat here or in one of the three other activity threads.

You can also dance here, if you have a willing dance partner.

The hosts of the ball and their staff are around and can be approached for a conversation, if you wish, though they may be quite busy. A man in the mask of a ram is loudly making deliberately and obviously wrong guesses as to who is under what mask. A man with a leopard mask is holding the arm of a woman in the mask of a lioness. A man with powdered hair in a unicorn mask is watching the dancing.

A woman with a fluffy bumblebee mask is chatting to the doorwoman with the canary mask, and both of them are wearing sharp yellow and blue suits.

You can stay and chat or dance, or you can go back to the entrance, look at the diversions, check out the table groaning under the weight of a bunch of presents or attend to your thirst at the refreshments station.

[wardenparker]

Mysterious Masquerade, part 1

Oberyn Martell x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 15.5k Warnings: Food/alcohol, cursing, flirting and sexy themes. Discussions of financial situations and economic hardship that might make some readers uncomfortable, but I promise it all ends well. Summary: There is no way that you or your best friend could have known that crashing the big Martell family Halloween masquerade would change your lives forever. Notes: Sugar Daddy Oberyn was just calling my name, what can I say?

It's opulence at its best. Silken black and purple fabrics drape the walls and reflect the shimmers back from the ornate wall sconces that light the ballroom. Women and men, scantily clad and their faces are covered black lace demi masks carry trays of succulent hors d'oeuvres and crisp, bubbly champagne. The contortionist twins breathing fire from a raised platform is in the middle of the ballroom, surrounded by dancing couples. The revelers are high spirited, dressed to impress despite their faces being covered, anonymity and the freedom to be whomever they wish tonight. The Martell Annual Halloween Masquerade is an undeniable success and the evening is still young.

“I can’t believe we actually got in!” You hiss, clutching your best friend’s hand as the two of you pass through the lavish ballroom. This mansion must be as old as the fabled Martell family itself, though no one quite knows how old that really is. The history has been mired in so much fable that they’re just part of the fabric of the city at this point.

When she had come to you with extravagant costumes and flimsy masks with this plan of crashing the annual Halloween party that was so legendary that the musicians were famous headliners and the food was prepared by celebrity chefs? You had balked. You had insisted that staying home and watching a slasher marathon with snacks and boozy autumnal cocktails was enough.

But she was totally right to think she could pull this off, apparently.

Oberyn watches from the balcony above, satisfied as he watches couple dance and drink. His own glass of champagne in his hand and he takes a sip. "Lover." He smiles, turning to find the dark, kohl lined eyes of his paramour watching him from behind the edges of her elaborate mask. He hated the masks himself, but it was part tradition, part relief. If he was not discovered, he could shrug off the trappings of his name and reputation for the night. Every other day he enjoys his title of the Red Viper, but for some reason tonight it doesn't seem appropriate. He hums, slowly taking in the beautiful view of her costume, the slinky fabric enhancing her lithe form. "Ellaria." He coos. "You look stunning."

“I should hope so.” She agrees, the sultry swing of her hips enhancing the movement of the shimmering dress. She’s dressed as Cleopatra, but without a single thought to any kind of accuracy. “I am stitched into the thing, thread by thread. Whomever I take to bed tonight had better have a seam ripper.”

He chuckles. “I’m surprised you haven’t already picked them out.” He teases. “There are so many choices.”

"Everyone I have danced with so far has been boring," she frowns dramatically. "But it is early." Ellaria enjoys the process of choosing less than Oberyn does. Once she finds someone that captures her attention, she likes to then explore that one, single option. Oberyn vastly prefers the game of cat and mouse with his temporary lovers.

"I am sure someone will catch your pretty eyes." He reaches up and pinches her chin playfully. "The party is a success." He hums, looking back around the room and spying a new set of attendees arriving.

“It always is.” She never doubts his ability to make sure those around him enjoy themselves, but Ellaria leans in to kiss him and lovingly tugs at the waist of his costume to nudge him along. “Go and mingle, lover. Bask in your guests’ enjoyment. Find a girl or boy to take upstairs.” She winks, and plants one last kiss on his lips. “Or both.”

He smirks and knows that he will find someone. He always does. "Have fun." He winks at her and pushes away from the balcony, interested to see the new arrivals. Even though they are masked, he doesn't believe he knows them.

“This champagne probably cost more than my entire outfit,” you murmur, sipping the glass as the two of you wade through the crowd. There is food everywhere and a huge band on stage, and a rumor that some big international singer would be here tonight. If you listened to the radio more you would probably have recognized the name.

Oberyn moves through the crowd, his eyes on the pair of ladies as they sip champagne and gawk at the surroundings. Obviously not used to the parties that are thrown here. It amuses him, all the security he has and he has been the one to find a pair of party crashers.

“This is the fanciest party I’ve ever seen.” Your friend breathes, eyes wide as she beholds the absolute pinnacle of luxury: an entire table full of multiple levels of charcuterie. “If I die tonight, make sure we have one of these at my funeral.”

“Same.” You swear solemnly, squeezing her head before you bust out in giggles.

"It is better to eat it than stare at it." Oberyn leans over one lady's shoulder and murmurs his comment. "Although it is almost as delectable as you two this evening."

Your flapper dresses jingle and swing when you both startle, turning inwardly to face the man who has come up between you. Dressed in a gleaming white and gold Roman soldier costume, he looks absolutely resplendent. It’s all you can do to swallow instead of stare, but your best friend answers. “Sometimes you just have to appreciate a thing of beauty.”

"I appreciate beauty in all forms," Oberyn agrees, taking your hand and clasping in his, "and yet I find myself captivated." You are beautiful, even with half of your face covered and he knows he has never met you before.

"You have excellent taste." Your friend blows you a kiss and sashays away, leaving you breathless and frozen with your hand held in this handsome new acquaintance's. You'll kick her ass for abandoning you later, right now you're trying to remember how to do anything but stare. He's handsome and broad, with sharp angles to his jaw and thick biceps shown off nicely by the tunic he's wearing.

"I have always believe that to be true." He has no problems with his own sense of self-esteem, men and women fall at his feet when they meet him. This however, is a challenge because it is obvious that you do not recognize him.

"Always?" His voice sounds vaguely familiar but you can't place it -- then again, why would you recognize the voice of anyone here? It isn't as though you run in the kind of circles that would have gotten you invited to this party. You did have to crash, after all. "Then you must have some very interesting choices to make."

He hums and turns you towards the table. "Life is full of choices." He muses. "It is all in what whets your appetite at the time." He pics up a prosciutto wrapped melon slice. Holding it up to your lips as an offering.

Is this how rich people flirt? The thought flits across your mind just only a millisecond before you open your mouth, accepting the bite out of curiosity as much as obedience. Feeding people can be a love language. It certainly is for your family, so you're no stranger to being offered things to try. "Sometimes you have to try more than one thing to find precisely where your tastes lie," you reply politely, when the cured ham is delicious but the melon not quite to your taste.

He chuckles, guaging that it wasn't your favorite and he decides that something sweeter is more in line with your tastes. "Absolutely" He agrees, picking up a chocolate ganache and cream puff pastry and offers it to you. "Tasting everything you can is one of the few true pleasures in life."

"Something tells me you've sampled everything you possibly can." It isn't a judgement, but this time when you open your mouth you feel just a touch more playful about it. Is it a little weird? Sure. But between this guy's physique and his accent, you don't need to see his whole face to know he's easily the hottest guy you've ever flirted with.

The cream puff is creamy and sweet but the dark chocolate is just a touch bitter, which is nice but still not quite hitting the mark for you. "What is your favorite thing here? Don't try to guess mine."

That is easy for him. Picking up a fig and rosemary cracker, he selects a slice of creamy bree and tops it with a plump blackberry before picking up the little honey comb wand from a small pot of honey to drizzle over the top of it all. When the bite is assembled, he turns to hand it to you. "Take a sip of your champagne after the bite." He instructs.

This is more like it. The bite is towering, imposing, and mouthwatering, and when requires commitment rather than a dainty or demure nibble. You go in without hesitation, moaning happily as each individual flavor bursts on your tongue and then melds together into something brilliantly harmonious. The champagne finish is like a crescendo -- the last unexpected peak of the roller coaster ride that you weren't quite expecting. By the time you finish it, you're giggling. "That's amazing," you commend, dabbing a touch of loose honey away from the corner of your mouth.

"It is." He smiles, enjoying your enjoyment of the bite he had made. He takes a sip of his own glass and hums. "Fresh and sweet, with a hint of savory."

"Complex." You commend, wondering if that is also his taste in partners. "Depth is important."

"What would be your choice?" He asks, curious to see what you view as the perfect bite.

A self-proclaim charcuterie enthusiast, you apply yourself to the table with aplomb, and compose a bite using a crusty round of puff pastry, a triangle of sharp and salty gruyere, sweet unctuous apricot jam, and a shard of crispy serrano pepper to top it all off. This is offered to him with absolute confidence, knowing that you have converted a hell of a lot of your friends to understanding the value in good ingredients with this very bite. "Try this."

He tilts his head at the offering, but he takes it with a small smirk. "I have to admit, I am charmingly surprised by the pepper." He says before he pops the bite into his mouth and chews cautiously, tasting the flavors as they burst on his tongue.

"Heat is an underrated aspect of many different things in life," you assert, watching his eyes flutter shut to enjoy the full experience. That's enough to let you know you've convinced him.

“Heat is just another word for passion.” He agrees after swallowing. “It is good that I enjoy it.”

"I had a feeling you might." He gives off that aura, anyway. Even if this is just a character he's put on for tonight, he's wearing it very well.

Oberyn asks your name. “I don’t believe I have seen you around before.” He coos. “I would have remembered a woman as passionate as you.”

"Daisy," you tell him, pulling the first flapper name you can possibly think of out of your mind, grateful you can remember the name of the love interest in The Great Gatsby off the top of your head.

He knows immediately that it is not your real name, but he appreciates the game you are starting. “Marcus Acacius.” He introduces himself, bowing slightly. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Daisy.”

“Ought I to call you ‘General’?” Appreciative that he is willing to play the game, you offer him a curtsy in turn.

“Only in bed.” He chuckles.

"Noted," you agree, laughing along with him.

Your glass is nearly empty, so the next time a man wearing nothing more than a g-string and a mask walks around with a tray of glasses, he snags a fresh one for you. His eyes watching the man’s ass as he walks off before smirking at you. “The servers are all…stimulating, are they not?”

"They are a beautiful part of the decor." It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that he likes the view, so you aren't going to point out that it's more than a little exhibitionist. For you, putting someone so utterly on display is hit or miss. But you've convinced yourself that they're all okay with it to make yourself more comfortable.

“Do you not like them?” He tilts his head, curiously by the slight pause in your answer. It’s no secret that his parties - while infamous - have never been photographed. People speculate and those invited never tell.

"Oh, it's not that I don't appreciate the beauty of a bare body," you rush to explain. Have you hit a nerve? Did he help design the party or something? "I guess I just...enjoy the reveal. Taking a lover to bed and getting to see their body bared for me bit by bit? It's the appetizer to the feast that will last all night."

“I see.” He can appreciate your honesty. “And you like to feast? Choosing a lover and hoping they do not disappoint you?” He smirks. “You would not like to have line of naked men line up, cocks hard while you choose which one you wish to ride?”

Alright, so it's not like you've never watched that kind of porn, but you take a sip from your fresh glass of champagne and shrug. "I can't say that I've ever had the chance. So I don't know."

“I am sure you would just need to ask.” He turns back to the table to pick up a few grapes. “A gorgeous woman like you would have her pick. Unless you prefer the touch of a woman?”

"You seem to be very talented at asking questions specifically on things I've never tried," you admit. In an uncharacteristically bold move, you take the grape directly from his fingers when he offers it. The offers at the charcuterie table seem to have given you a bit of extra confidence. "But what about you? Do you enjoy every offer you get? That would be both unusual and commendable."

“There have been some offers that I have declined.” Oberyn admits easily. “But I think that is normal for everyone, no?”

“I think so.” You both sip your drinks, letting the moment settle around you, and give your attention to the stage when the music changes. A new singer has been introduced and the crowd is clapping wildly around you.

Oberyn watches as the famous performer walks up onto the stage. Her appearance here was a personal favor to him, although he had insisted on paying her. He would never have it said that he took advantage. “Have you watched her perform live before?” He asks, watching you frown in confusion as you try to figure out who she is.

“I…don’t get out much,” you admit, by way of saying ‘no’. Work-life balance has long been negated by the sheer desire to keep a roof over your head and food in the refrigerator, so you haven’t been to a live anything in years.

He hums and gestures towards the stage. “Then you should enjoy this.” He takes a sip of his champagne and sets it down. “Shall we get closer?”

His formality doesn’t make him any less of an intriguing or welcoming presence, and when he sets his glass down and offers you his arm, you can’t resist. It might be the first time ever that a man has offered you his arm like a gentleman.

Oberyn knows the best place to watch and he guides you towards it. “So Daisy, have you attended many of the Red Viper’s parties?” He asks. “Or is this your first time?”

“Oh, this is definitely a first.” The place he brings you to is to the side of the stage directly at the front, and the singer is both obviously talented and obviously committed to putting on a show. While a lot of people are still dancing, at least half the party has stopped to watch. “You?”

“Practically every one.” He replies without irony. It’s actually more of a challenge of you don’t recognize him.

“I can’t imagine missing this if you could help it.” The opulence and beauty of what you’ve seen so far are beautiful. If you could, you would certainly be here all the damn time.

Another tray of champagne is brought around and Oberyn looks over at your half-drunk glass. “Do you want another, or are you content for the moment?”

“I’m okay right now.” The last thing you want to do is drink too much and get sloppy or embarrass yourself. The risk of getting discovered as a party crasher is high enough as it is. “But don’t let be stop you.”

“I actually prefer to drink wine over champagne.” He admits, motioning the server over. “Please bring a bottle of the Dornish red and two glasses.” He instructs.

The waiter obeys him instantly and you watch with barely disguised surprise. The authority in his voice just is that commanding, and your mind flits momentarily back to the half-joke that he should only be called general in bed.

“You must try it.” He insists. “Even if you don’t have much. The Dornish red is perhaps the best vintage of wine you will ever have.”

“It’s always on everyone’s lists of best wine in the world.” The lists you read while you buy your cheap yet delicious bottle of Chilean red. “I’ve…I admit, I’ve always wanted to try it.”

“Then you are in for a treat.” He murmurs. “You know the Martell estate produces the wine, no?” He loves to talk about his family, but he’s careful to frame it has interesting facts. “It’s been made here for over four hundred years.”

"It's supposed to be wonderful." You do know that much, even if you've never had the opportunity to try it. "Do you..." About to ask him if he works on the vineyard judging from the pride in his voice, you decide to pivot. Not knowing is more fun. "Do you find it a favorite?"

“It is.” He doesn’t tell you that he’s been drinking this wine since he was a child, knowing that would make things too obvious. The intrigue about you is tickling his curiosity. “What is yours?”

"It's low brow compared to Dornish red." Where most people are truly giving their undivided attention to the singer, you've continued your conversation. The idea that he finds you just as interesting as a pop star is flattering to say the least. "There is a Chilean label called Casillero del Diablo that I love." Feeling self conscious, you shrug your shoulders and laugh. "It tastes fancy without breaking the bank. That's good enough for me."

“Casillero is a good wine.” He nods, finding it amusing that you would be self conscious because what a wine costs. “I have had many a bottle myself. It is especially good with an exceptional paella.”

"I'll have to give that a try." Not that you've ever tried to make paella in your entire life, but Casillero has made your meat sauce taste the best it's ever been.

The server that was sent for the Roman General's bottle has returned, and approaches the two of you through a crowd with his gleaming tray carrying a bottle with two glasses. He offers your companion a flirtatious smile and you a wink, making you wonder if everyone at this party is just here to flirt with everyone else.

“Good man.” Oberyn praises, approving of the bottle already being opened and allowed to breathe. Scooping up one of the glasses, Oberyn pours a small taster of it, giving it the requisite sniff and small taste before he pours a larger quantity in the glass and offers it to you. “Unless you would prefer to not drink after me?” He asks.

"I don't mind." It feels bold and a little sexy. Flirtatious, just like everyone else at the party. "You say it's your favorite? Then I'm sure it will be sinful."

His eyes light up, enjoying how forward you are with a coy smile. “It is delicious.” He agrees as he pours himself a glass.

The first sip bursts on your tongue with deep cherry and juicy plum tones wrapped in the smoky tones of the aging barrel. Something subtle untied it that you can’t quite place and you hum happily as the first beautiful taste warms your throat. “It’s incredible.”

“Hmmmm.” He takes his own sip. “It’s like tasting a beautiful woman for the first time.”

That is just a touch more bold than you ever would have even thought to be, and your eyes widen as you take your second sip. It takes all the effort in the world not to do a spit take out of sheer surprise, but you have a feeling that that was somehow the point of the comment.

He smirks when he sees your eyes widen behind the mask and he wants to ask your opinion on that, but he doesn’t. Instead he just watches you with a growing hunger, aware that despite Ellaria normally picking her lover first, he had found who he wishes to take to bed.

Aside from being delicious, the wine is fairly strong, and you slowly sip your glass while the singer performs on stage. She's wonderful, of course, and after a few songs you have never heard before there is finally one you recognize your best friend playing – which makes your eyes scan the crowd wondering if you can find her. Wherever she is in the room, she must be geeking out.

******

“You are so sweet.” Ellaria coos, stroking her finger down the young woman’s face. “Would you like to meet her after she is done singing?”

Lizzy's eyes widen the same way yours did over the comment from Oberyn about the wine, though neither of you know the irony in your reactions being identical and at nearly the same time. "You could—could do that?" She asks, wondering who this woman is who had swept her up in a dance only a few moments ago.

“Of course I could.” She smirks and winks at her playfully. “She is a close friend of mine.” She admits and reaches for another glass of champagne to drink.

"Who are you?" Lizzy breathes in wonder, staring at the gorgeous woman who came into her orbit like a whirlwind and continues to swirl and shine.

Her laughter is soft, yet powerful. A woman who is truly comfortable in her own skin and the power she wields. “Tonight, call me your fairy godmother, darling.” She teases, leaning in and kissing her lips softly. “Watch the performance. I am sure Trinity would love to hear feedback.”

"What feedback could I possibly give?" The absolute wonder on her face is enough, and both women are grinning for entirely separate reasons as they turn back to the stage.

******

“You seem like you are looking for someone?” He would be terribly disappointed if you were meeting someone here. Although he’s not opposed to threesomes.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude." You also didn't mean to be obvious about looking, but you've clearly failed in that. "My best friend. We came together and got separated, that's all. I'm sure she's fine."

“It is no problem.” He assures you, relaxing slightly. A friend. “Would you like to find her? Or……” he shrugs slightly, leaving it up to your interpretation.

"I'm sure she's fine," you repeat, mostly to reassure yourself. Lizzy is far better in unknown social situations than you are. After all, she's the one who talked you past the security guards. Taking another sweep of the crowd, you finally look up and spot her glossy red hair and striking black flapper dress in the balcony. Against the railing. Balustrade? Whatever you call it when it's in the ballroom of a house. "Oh," you breathe, relieved. "There she is. I just...didn't want her to miss this. She loves this singer."

Oberyn follows your gaze and smirks when he sees a very familiar figure next to her. “It seems as if she has found some company for the performance.”

"I'm not surprised." Or even taken a little bit aback by how fast it happened. Lizzy's always been lucky in love, no matter what the level. "Sorry again," you murmur to your own companion. "I just...we take care of each other. That's all."

“Do not apologize for looking after your friend.” He shakes his head gently. “That is admirable.”

That softens your expression in an entirely different way, and you lean slightly into your handsome companion's side. "I just didn't want you to think I wasn't interested, that's all."

“I can tell you are interested.” He tilts his head. “It is just a matter of you acting on it, I think.”

Your cheeks are on fire immediately, eyes glancing away out of sheer embarrassment. Is it really that obvious? And are you really that obvious? You ought to feel ashamed but all you can feel it the heat in your veins. "I'm...not terribly good at figuring out if that sort of thing is welcome. Which is why I hardly ever do."

“I can assure that that any move you make would be met with enthusiasm.” He chuckles softly, taking another sip of his wine. “All you have to do is ask to see the room I am staying in tonight.”

"I—" Your head tilts out of sheer surprise. "Really?"

“Why are you looking so surprised?” Oberyn sets his wine down and he light brushes his hand over your ass, hovering right over it before sliding up to your hip. “You are gorgeous and have captured my interest.” He smirks. “Party crashers do that.”

"How could you possibly—?" Your confusion only deepens, though now your side is flooded from heat with his hand.

“Know that you didn’t receive an invitation?” He winks at you from under his mask. “Some secrets are best kept just that, Daisy.” He coos. “Do you want to finish the concert, or shall I give you a private tour of the west wing of the house?”

The possibility that this man is the legendary Oberyn Martell never even crosses your mind. That would be too unbelievable. But surely he works for him. Or is a family member. Or is somehow connected to the man who owns this mansion, multiple Martell family businesses, and half the city to boot. Whoever he is? He's handsome, smells sinfully good, and is looking at you like he's going to devour you. So you straighten out your spine and decide to give yourself a fantastic story out of tonight. "How about we top off our glasses and go for a tour?"

“Atta girl.” He chuckles. “You have spirit and that is something that I will enjoy when I hear you scream again and again in pleasure.” He picks up the wine bottle and drains it between your glass and his.

"Is that a promise or a threat" You joke, suddenly wishing you were wearing a far flashier and more alluring costume.

“Both.” He chuckles darkly and leans into whisper in your ear. “I can guarantee a night you will never forget.”

"Well damn." Hiding your thudding, thundering heart behind a coy smile, you can't hide the shiver that runs down your spine. "What are we waiting for?"

He smirks victoriously and turns to offer you his arm. “Nothing, my little dove.” He promises. “We are waiting for nothing.”

The gold bracelets on his wrists are cool on the tips of your fingers as you wrap one hand around his arm, wondering what the hell you could possibly be thinking and also how fucking sexy he is. It's truly unfair. Or it would be. If you weren't the one on his arm right now. He leads you away from the stage and to the outer rim of the room, surveying things as he goes but always bringing his eyes back to you. It really gives you the impression of a prince surveying his kingdom, and purely in a way that makes you squeeze your thighs together.

******

The morning light starts to peek on from the edge of the heavy velvet curtains. Making Oberyn grunt and roll over out of the spearing ray that lands on his cheek. The night had been spent in darkness, keeping the thrill of the game alive despite your bodies being stripped to the skin. Now his eyes open, landing on your face for the first time without the mask you had been wearing.

It might be the best night's sleep you've ever had. Certainly the most comfortable bed you've ever slept in, and the most luxurious sheets you've ever had wrapped around you. When he allowed for it anyway. Your general is a giving and pampering lover but also a human blanket. He had kept you tight in his arms for most of the night until eventually turning away sometime in the middle of your deep and uplifting dreams.

You are still sleeping, making him smirk as he shifts closer. Last night had been intoxicating and fun. You had been enthusiastic and vocal, willing to let him do anything he wanted to you under the cover of darkness. Now, he wants to see what you look like in the light.

The warmth and weight of him is what drags you from your dreams, making the gardens of your unconscious world drift away as you float back down into your body, only to hum from somewhere deep in your chest as you register the low rumble of him beside you.

“You are waking up, Princess?” He asks softly, curling up against you again.

“Mm.” You turn instinctively, burying yourself in the warmth of someone who is clearly just waking up as well. This isn’t one of those one-night-stands where you jump out of bed and run away afterward. This is slow and luxurious. “Morning,” you murmur, cracking your eyes open.

“Morning.” His fingers slide down the curve of your spine and he palms your ass to pull you closer for that first morning kiss that he always enjoys.

The hunger from last night is still there, though the immediacy has ebbed a little. As though he is aware this morning as having all the time in the world. You sweep your tongue through his mouth just as eagerly as he does yours, savoring the lingering intimacy. “Sleep well?”

“Like a baby.” He chuckles, finding himself relaxed despite knowing that the party had continued on into the early hours of the morning. Stragglers would still be sleeping where they had passed out or adjourned to find privacy. The clean up from the night’s activities would not begin until well into the afternoon. Brunch would not even be served to those that had remained until after the noon hour had passed.

“Me too.” Without any idea what time of morning it is, all you know of the sun is high and the crisp autumn breeze coming through the windows is perfect, all of it giving him an almost ethereal presence as he leans over you in that enormous bed of his.

Without a mask you can see his golden skin more clearly, maybe a few more laugh lines than you expected but he wears them very handsomely. His extra years give him experience and speak to his love of life. Without his mask you can also see the prominent arch of his nose and the peaks of his cheekbones, all of which you instinctively wish you could trace in kisses but you don’t know if that’s allowed this morning.

“Are you too sore for another round?” He asks, arching a brow playfully. You haven’t looked surprised to find out who he is, so perhaps you had figured it out during the night. He had brought you back to his personal bedroom, but the lights had stayed off.

“Not at all.” His stamina was commendable last night so you’re not surprised to find him eager for another encounter this morning. Something tickles at the back of your mind, like he looks too familiar but you brush it off. Maybe you’ve been in the same restaurant or movie theater before? Who knows.

He hums and lowers his mouth to your neck, pressing his lips and nipping your skin playfully. “You tasted so delicious last night, I am craving another taste.”

“Miraculously, I do not have work today.” Your hands find the strong, defined muscles of his back easily, holding him to you with enthusiasm. “So I can indulge as much as you like.”

“Good.” He smirks and hovers over you again. “Then I will take my time.”

** He keeps his promises. At least when it comes to intimacy. When it comes to how many times he can make you scream for him and coaxing you into yet another tantric position you’ve never heard of but unlocks something primal and needy in you. He keeps his promises and you keep yours, leaving each other exhausted and panting as you collapse in each other’s arms all over again.

There is no wine nearby, so he reluctantly pulls away from you, climbing out of the bed and walking over to the mini fridge that is underneath the bar in the corner. Pulling out two bottles of water he turns back towards you. “Do you want to join the brunch crowd in a little bit?”

"Eating something is probably a good idea," you admit, accepting the water from him gratefully. "We've had a hell of a workout over the last...twelve hours? I have no idea what time it is."

Oberyn chuckles and twists the cap off his own drink. “It’s nearly noon.” He admits, having glanced at his phone briefly.

"Is it?" Neither embarrassed or upset about spending so much time closed up in this bedroom with him, you finally take time to look around the room in the clear light of midday. "This is...a hell of a room," you commend, taking in all the details of the space. The sumptuous fabrics and detail in the carved woods. The elaborate stained glass window tiles scattering various colors across the floor that had not been anywhere as brilliant in the moonlight. "If this is a guest room I can't even imagine what the master bedroom looks like."

He pauses when you say that, pulling his bottle down from his lips as you look around. You aren’t looking at him and he is highly amused. You’ve obviously not recognized him, slightly stinging his ego, but it makes the previous evening and this morning even more refreshing. “I am sure it would splendid.” He agrees. “If it were a guest room.”

"If it—" Opening your mouth once or twice or three times in confusion, you take another drink of water and sit up in his bed. "You're family?" The possibility had never even crossed your mind, although now you feel a little stupid for not realizing.

“Martell is my last name.” He admits with a nonchalant shrug, as if it is inconsequential to the subject at hand.

"I had no idea." Feeling all the more embarrassed, you practically sink back against the headboard. "I mean....I don't know if it's one of those local pride things like...like I ought to know. But in my defense, I only moved to this city last year."

He watches your face fall and frowns, moving towards the bed to sit down. “No, no, my sweet little dove, you are not going to be upset.” He commands, as if he could change your emotions just by wishing it. “I enjoy the discovery that you don’t know who I am.” He assures you, reaching out and touching your knee. “It means you wanted to sleep with me for a reason other than my name.”

"I told you..." Reaching for him is as easy as breathing, even if you are a little more intimidated to do it now. "I was drawn to you."

“And I was drawn to you.” He smirks, sending you a playful wink.

"Then I suppose it...doesn't matter?" It would make you pretty embarrassed to invite him over to your studio apartment, but you don't anticipate this going past today anyway.

“What do you mean?” He tilts his head curiously.

"Nothing. Never mind." Slipping from the sheets, your only option is too hunt the floor for your dress and slip back into the same clothes you were wearing last night. "I should text my friend. Let her know I won't be home until after brunch." And see if Lizzy had texted you about staying out, too. She usually has more luck anyway.

He frowns at your back as you hunt up your clothes. “Let me get you something else to wear.” He offers, unashamed at his own nudity, but he senses that you might want to wear something.

If all the men in this family are like the famous Oberyn Martell, there is probably a storage closet somewhere with spare clothes for conquests to wear the morning after. Not that you care how many other people a partner has slept with – that's none of your business and doesn't really matter. You were safe last night and this morning, so a number is just a number. "I don't want to be a nuisance," you say instead, because it's the truth.

“It is no nuisance.” He insists, standing up and walking towards the door that his closet is behind. “I have some beautiful things from you to choose from.” He motions you over.

"I'll get them back to you," you promise him, before you even get over to the closet. Assuming they don't belong to some other woman, they still belong to him. And that's basic respect.

“Consider it a gift.” He waves away your concern and finds it sweet that you would want to return something like that to him. “My eldest has a flare for designing clothes.” He admits as he turns on the light to the closet. “These are some of her mock ups, not released to the public.”

"Your daughter made these?" The closet is bursting with colorful, inventive fashions that make your eye jump around from piece to piece with growing awe.

“Yes.” He smiles proudly as he looks around the smaller room. It is lined with designs that she has worked on, and even if she had not liked them, he loved them because she made them. “Her line has taken off, there is a show coming up next month.”

"And you're willing to just...give me her designs?" You turn to him with wide eyes.

He smiles and reaches out to pinch your chin gently. “You are exquisite. You will wear it well and everyone will ask you where you got it.” He predicts.

"Then you have to tell me what her fashion line is called, so I can tell everyone who asks." He lets you select a combination of skirt, blouse, and sweater that are comfortable and extremely attractive and you know you'll wear as much as humanly possible.

“Dornish Sun by Obara Sand.” Oberyn murmurs, watching you run your fingers through the silks that she had stitched.

"Is it cliche if I say that you don't look old enough to have a grown daughter?" There is no reason to be shy about dressing in front of him since he was the one who undressed you last night.

“I started very young.” He chuckles.

"It seems so." The silk handkerchief skirt settles on your waist easily and the camisole is soft on your skin, making you feel utterly luxuriated with just simple clothing. "Well, I...thank you. And thank you to your daughter as well. She's extremely gifted."

“Of course.” He smiles. “Yellow is your color.” He compliments. “You should wear it often.”

"I will." That is a promise you can make him easily. The warmth has returned to everything you're feeling, pushing awkwardness out the window, and you're pull on the soft cardigan that compliments the clothing when you hear your phone go off somewhere in the vast bedroom. "That's probably Lizzy," you tell him, moving back toward his room. "Did you...you mentioned brunch?"

“I am sure that she will be there if she stayed.” He knows she will, Ellaria will have her there. “You should assure her you are safe.”

Your purse, phone inside, had somehow ended up falling off of a side table last night and is sitting on the beautifully waxed wooden floor when you go to retrieve it. If you look a bit like a bumblebee with your yellow and black and floral outfit today, at least the black heels and black clutch you brought last night will complement it.

There are no less than a half dozen messages on your phone, but the one from this morning is, indeed, from Lizzy.

From Lizzy: You disappeared so early last night! Who did you end up going home with??

You grin typing out your reply, and try not to sound too smug in your reply.

To Lizzy: I'm still in the mansion, actually. Got invited to brunch and won't even have to do a walk of shame. Meet up afterward?

From Lizzy: The brunch!!!! I’m going to be there too. I will see you there!

While you are answering your phone, Oberyn dresses in a pair of deceptively casual linen pants and a burnt orange shirt, shoving his feet into a pair of stylish loafers and choosing the watch Ellaria had gifted him on his last birthday.

"She says she'll be at brunch, too." Looking up from your phone, a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth when you see how effortlessly handsome and stylish he looks in his beautifully tailored clothing.

“I assumed she would.” He smirks. “Ellaria loves to pamper her lovers after a night in her bed.”

"Ellaria...?" Letting the wheels of your mind spin at will, it takes only seconds to connect the final dots and your eyes widen all over again. "You're Oberyn Martell?"

He tilts his head in acknowledgement and smirks. “I am.” He admits, walking over and picking up his water bottle again. “But I’m more interested in learning your real name.”

You practically stammer it out, but you do tell him. It had been wrong to assume that it could not be him, apparently, despite his legendary attachment to his partner Ellaria Sand.

“Beautiful.” He smiles, thinking that your name fits you. “Now, are you a woman who brushes her teeth before brunch or after?” He asks curiously.

"After." You laugh, although the question is practical. "I can't have anything messing with the flavor of my coffee."

He chuckles and agrees. “Especially when you are following it up with a mimosa.” He jokes.

“Exactly.” You agree, accepting his arm when he offers it. “The only thing worse that toothpaste and coffee is toothpaste and orange juice.”

A horrid combination.” He curls his lip in disgust. “Come, the brunch will be starting soon.”

By the light of day, the mansion is both enormous and even more splendid than it seemed last night. Details were lost in the lights of the party that you can see very clearly now as he walks you through the halls, though you do your best not to gape. Down immense hallways and the grandest set of stairs you have ever seen before – Surely these aren't the stairs he took you up last night? You would remember. – he escorts you to an enormous dining room with ceilings higher than most churches you've been in.

The staff, the regular staff, is all dressed respectably in black trousers, a sun yellow shirt and a black vest over that. The Martell family symbol of a spear and a bursting sun is emblazoned on the left breast of the vest, with a discreet name tag on the right.

There are stations for hot food and sideboards full of cold choices all laid out everywhere, and plenty of party guests milling about in last night's costumes or this morning's borrowed clothes. Soft music plays from somewhere overhead and a few staff members move between tables pouring tea, delivering mimosas, and occasionally delivering a different drink altogether. One table in the corner is a little grander than the rest, but it pulls your eye for an entirely different reason. Sitting, sipping a Bloody Mary in contentment, is Lizzy.

“Ahhhh, there they are.” Oberyn hums, his smile widening when he sees the beautiful face of his paramour and guides you over to the table. “You look well rested this morning, my love.”

"An illusion, I assure you." Ellaria smirks, rising from her place at the table with a cup of well-doctored coffee in front of her. "Since my dear new friend ensured I got very little sleep at all last night." She moves to Oberyn's side with ease to kiss him. "I trust you did the same for her friend?"

He pulls her in for a kiss, just as passionate as the one he had given you before entering the dining room where brunch was being served. Smiling when she moans slightly and pulls away. “Of course I did.”

“Good.” She commends, the easy praise pouring from her lips. “I knew you would not let any leave your bed unsatisfied.”

“Of course not.” He purrs. “She looks ravishing, as does your playmate for the evening. Have you decided to invite her back?”

“Thursday.” Ellaria’s smile is pure satisfaction on her own part. “A pity, though. She has no interest in cock. Though I don’t suppose she would mind you watching if you like.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I will leave you two to your games. I can amuse myself, as you well know.”

“With your new playmate?” His paramour asks slyly, glancing over at where you and Lizzy are chatting excitedly at the table.

“I find myself enchanted by her:” Oberyn admits, never shy about sharing his feelings with Ellaria. Despite their openness, they have also been together for nearly fifteen years.

“Then I am very glad she stayed.” Though Oberyn enjoys his encounters, it is rare for him to be enchanted by just anyone. It is a high commendation from a man who can have anyone he chooses.

“I am too.” He watches you and your friend with Ellaria. “I am thinking of asking her for an arrangement.” He poses.

“Oh?” She is surprised at that but not unhappy. When Oberyn finds someone worthy of an arrangement it is always something that brings him joy, and Ellaria is never opposed to Oberyn’s joy.

“What do you think?” He turns to look at his lover, seeing that she is surprised, but not necessarily opposed to the idea.

“I think she is lovely and you are enchanted.” Snuggled into his side, Ellaria presses a kiss to Oberyn’s jaw and smiles. “And she looks very fine in Obara’s clothes.”

“She was in complete awe of the closet.” He muses. “She is not seeking social status, that is for certain.”

“No?” That alone is enough to pique Ellaria’s interest. After all, his status is high enough to elevate anyone simply by proximity. “How do you know?”

“She did not know who I was” Oberyn admits with an amused chuckle. “And it was no act. She was embarrassed by the fact she did not recognize me.”

“Well, well.” Ellaria chuckles, tutting in amusement. “That does make things more interesting. Her friend did recognize me, but not everyone is as mysterious as your new lover.”

He hums and pulls her close to steal another kiss. “Perhaps you will take her out to lunch?” He asks. “Tomorrow?”

“If you wish it.” Ellaria hums, glances back at you and Lizzy, and ends up smiling. “Do you wish me to sweeten her to the idea of your arrangement, or will you propose it today?”

“Sweeten her up a bit.” He winks at you when you glance over. “Beyond that, I want to know your opinion before I offer her more.”

“I will give you an honest review,” she promises, kissing him once more before straying off toward the buffet.

Oberyn watches her walk away for a moment before he turns back towards the table and smirks. Walking slowly towards you as you giggle with your friend.

“Lizzy was just saying the same thing I did when we came downstairs,” you tell him, though the honest truth is that she said it much earlier in the conversation and just now you had been gossiping about why and how you’re both so tired. “The house is even more beautiful in the sunlight.”

“I am glad you are enjoying yourself here.” Oberyn smirks and nods towards Lizzy. “I am sure that Ellaria would love to give you a private tour, if she hasn’t already.” He chuckles. “She loves to fuck in the library. Hates to read, but loves to fuck there.”

“Yes, I…um…” Lizzy clears her throat and offers him a tight, slightly nervous smile. “I have been in the library. Haven’t really seen or paid attention to much of it, but I’ve been in it.”

He hums in approval and nods. “She did say that you both enjoyed yourselves immensely.” He pulls out a chair beside you and sits down. “Have you decided if you want anything from the buffet, or something else?” He asks both of you.

“There are more than enough choices on the buffet,” you assure him. “And it all looks wonderful.”

“We were just waiting until you got here.” Lizzy admits easily. “Ellaria said brunch would last for hours so we didn’t need to hurry.”

“It does.” He agrees. “But I do think we should order our first round of drinks, don’t you?”

“She’ll say anything is fine, but she prefers tea,” Lizzy supplies, nudging your arm at the table and aiming a mischievous grin in your direction while you look mortified that she essentially just made a demand on your behalf.

“Black, green, oolong, white or pu-erh?” Oberyn asks, tilting his head in question. “Don’t tell me you are someone who only drinks hibiscus tea and thinks that’s the best?” He playfully makes a face of horror. “You will insult me.”

“No, no, really it’s—”

Lizzy huffs and pokes you. “Earl Grey with lemon and sugar,” she tells him, seemingly pleased that someone else is willing to make a fuss over you besides her.

“Earl Grey it is.” Oberyn nods. “Do you like the plain earl grey or the cream?”

“Plain, please,” you murmur, as though you’re glad that the least intrusive answer is the honest one. The scowl you shoot Lizzy is an attempt at withering, but you just don’t have that kind of emotion in you today. It’s as if last night swept away all the negativity you had — and while the anxiety remains this is still the best you’ve felt in ages.

Oberyn motions one of the staff over. “A pot of Earl Grey tea with lemon and sugar.” He orders for you. “A Bloody Mary with extra horseradish for Ellaria.” He turns towards Lizzy. “And you, darling?”

“I think I’ll switch to water after this,” Lizzy concedes, tapping the rim of the Bloody Mary she’s nearly finished. They’re quite strong and she was only after some hair of the dog. She doesn’t need to be drunk all over again.

He pouts slightly but turns back towards the man. “A bottle of sparkling water for her and I will have a peach nectar mimosa.” He decides, smirking slightly. “I still have a yearning for sweet peaches this morning.”

You clear your throat, lips pursed together despite the very pleased smile tugging at both corners of your lips, and distinctly avoid your best friend’s eyes for the moment. He had compared your cunt to a peach in every conceivable way last night, espousing its virtues endlessly, and the simple reminder has transported you right back to the image of his head between your thighs.

Oberyn chuckles softly and sends you a knowing smirk. “I think you enjoyed it too, Dove.” He murmurs, reaching under the table to stroke your thigh. “So when did you decide to crash the party?” He asks, looking at both of you with a grin.

“About a week ago,” Lizzy answers honestly, ignoring how much further you sink down into your seat. “When I found those little masquerade masks in a costume shop. I promised I’d find a party to take her to if she rented costumes with me.”

“And technically you did,” you admit, rolling your eyes at your best friend to hide the fact that you’re somewhat mortified to have been found out so easily, and end up in the host and hostess’s beds.

“It is a good thing.” He admits, shrugging nonchalantly. “There are always a few that come that are not on the guest list, it’s a compliment. It means the parties are worth attending.” He smirks. “Although next year you will have invitations.”

Lizzie’s eyebrows raise at that and she glances at you meaningfully, as though she hadn’t had as significant a night as you did.

“We will?” You ask, swallowing the surprise in your voice.

“Of course.” He lifts a brow in amusement, as if he could not believe you would think anything else. “If you come, that is up to you.”

“Of course we’ll come.” The idea that you wouldn’t is shocking and the promise comes out of your mouth extremely quickly, even if you don’t mean it to. It’s not as if you expect to sleep with him again in a year — but a girl can hope. It’s not as if you expect your own circumstances will change much by then.

“So tell me how you came to be in our fair city?” He wants to know more about you, and your friend.

“It’s…complicated,” you admit, although the tale is old as time. “But basically…Lizzy and I were roommates in college and we’ve been friends ever since. So last year when I needed a new start, I came and joined her here.”

“Heart break or financials?” Oberyn asks sagely. There are only two reasons most people need to make a fresh start and he wonders which category you fall into.

“I—” Glancing at Lizzy like a plea for help, your best friend only shrugs and picks up her Bloody Mary as if to say ‘you opened the door, now answer the question.’

“Both,” you admit sheepishly. “I would working for my fiancé’s family business. So when the engagement ended, so did the job.”

“I see.” He lifts a brow and makes a note to dig into your past, wanting to see what kind of man you were engaged to. “Then I hate to be crass, but I owe your foolish ex partner a word of thanks for giving you the freedom to land in my bed.”

“He was a fuckin’ moron.” Lizzy supplies helpfully, and grins when you huff at her. “What? He was! I know you were together forever but that doesn’t make him less of an idiot.”

“Your beautiful friend has a point.” Oberyn chuckles and greets the server when he comes back with your drinks. “The tea pot in front of this beautiful lady.” He reminds him and watches as the entire service set is transferred from the rolling cart. It is a silver and gold bone China set that was his late mother’s favorite.

“Thank you,” is repeated several times both to the server and to Oberyn, and the brewed tea is beautifully doctored just how you like it. It’s a beautiful luxury, you will admit readily, and sip the scalding tea with a blissful smile. “I’m glad it’s over, but the ending was not fun,” you tell him finally. “And…if it’s what needed to happen for us to come here last night? That is a wonderful night to make up for all the pain.”

“Perhaps.” He smirks and reaches over to steal a sugar cube from the little pot like he would as a child. His own drink is perfect and he hums in approval as everyone in the room settles into a quiet chatter.

When Ellaria returns to the table she brings two plates with her and sets one down in front of Oberyn. He takes forever to make even the smallest choices when it comes to having so many options, and while she would never interrupt his fun in the bedroom, it's been long enough that she surely knows his favorite foods. "You should go up," she tells you and Lizzy sweetly. "There is plenty to pick from."

Oberyn is vastly amused and thankful, winking at his paramour before he looks over at you. “Dove, you should go fix yourself a plate.”

Ellaria and Lizzy both look duly impressed that there is already a pet name in place, but you downplay it. Just thanking him again for the tea and getting up from the table to go get your food is enough from now. He's being very sweet to you this morning and it's far more than you expected, so you're going to savor it while it lasts.

“She must have a magical cunt.” Ellaria hums as she watches you and Lizzy scamper off to the buffet tables. “Does she –”

Oberyn shakes his head. “Honestly? I did not ask, although I am certain if she ever had any desire to, you would persuade her.” He compliments, leaning over and picking up her hand to kiss the back of it.

"I'll save the question for after tomorrow's sweetening." Ellaria decides. You seem like you could be overwhelmed by too much attention, and that would not go well for Oberyn's desires.

“Apparently she is recently off heart break and financial strife.” Oberyn discloses. “Perhaps you can question how deep that monetary problem runs?” He won’t take advantage of you by leveraging money, but he will offer you a very lucrative opportunity.

"Do you know what she does?" That is always an interesting conversation, and can be a gateway to many things. "Beside fuck like a goddess, apparently?" Ellaria grins.

“There wasn’t much small talk happening.” Oberyn admits shamelessly, his own grin accompanied by waggling eyebrows. “It is a pity your lover does not like cock, or we could see how we all enjoy each other.”

"There is no such thing as a perfect world is there?" Ellaria sighs dramatically, entirely aware that in every reasonable way, their life is perfect. It is simply a matter of who they choose to share that perfection with. That is the question at hand.

******

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Ellaria has to shout to be heard over the wind racing between you, the top down on her sporty little convertible as she zips you away from the mansion and towards what she promises to be the best shopping in the city.

The invitation had come as a surprise to you, but when Ellaria Sand had suggested you come back over to the mansion today to have lunch, you had tentatively accepted. She was very nice, after all, and interesting -- and the longtime lover of the man that you were struggling to stop thinking about. It made the sound of lunch so civil, and you told yourself that you would not try to peak for Oberyn around the mansion where they both lived.

But as soon as you had arrived she had scooped you up in her car and said that lunch al fresco and shopping sounded divine to her, and you hadn't had the heart to tell her that there was no way in hell that you would be able to shop with her. You had just been quietly glad that you wore your nicest dress today and gotten into the car like she suggested.

"Sunny and beautiful," you agree, wondering where you could possibly be heading.

“I find on days like this, I want to be outside.” She continues on. “Don’t you? What do you do for work?” The question is blunt and automatic, immediately starting in on Oberyn’s request to sweeten you up.

“Oh, um…nothing special. Just…the usual sort of thing.” It’s embarrassing to admit to someone as effortlessly elegant and carefree as Ellaria that you work yourself numb at a coffeeshop every morning and a pizza place every night. Taking shifts off to crash the masquerade and — you thought — sleep off the hangover had been something you worked hard to manage. The afternoons are normally your only free time, and today you’re spending that time with her.

“What is the usual sort of thing?” Her hair is wrapped in a stylish Hermès scarf and her Armani sunglasses are the latest collection. She had dressed specifically to show you what can be yours.

“I work in kitchens,” you answer diplomatically, even though you hate it. Being good at it doesn’t mean it’s what you want to do with your life. You have a hard-earned degree that is sitting and calcifying while you try and fail to find work in your preferred field. When you see her tilt her head out of the corner of your eye, you shrug your shoulders. “I’m a barista and I work at a pizza place,” you clarify finally, deciding to be transparent.

“No wonder you have such lovely taste in tea!” She reaches over and touches your knee gently before taking a firm hold on the wheel. “Do you enjoy it?”

“Not really.” You can admit that even if it doesn’t feel utterly fantastic to do so. “But I’m grateful to have the work.”

“What would you rather do?” She asks. “Dream job or your goal in life?” She smiles over at you. “Mine was to raise my children myself, so don’t discount a homemaker if that’s your dream.”

“I’d like a family at some point.” That’s definitely somewhere in the dreamscape of your fantasy future, though you really don’t know about any of it happening any more. “To be honest?” Glancing over as she drives, you aren’t too surprised to see her pull into an area of underground parking beneath a large and expensive looking shopping mall. You’ve actually been to this one before — you brought a book to the cafe here once to buy an overpriced pot of tea and read in the conservatory-like atmosphere. “I really don’t know. I suppose…I like books quite a lot. But being a librarian takes quite a lot of schooling.”

“It does?” She’s completely unaware of that. “I couldn’t imagine why. I have never been good at reading.” She admits with a laugh. “It bores me. Although Oberyn adores reading. His library is magnificent. At least for fucking in.” She throws you a wink as she parks and shuts off the engine.

“I heard.” The grin you shoot her is honest and amused. Lizzy is beside herself with attraction but trying to be practical about it. “We’re eating here?” You ask, genuinely interested in what sort of bistros or lovely restaurants this building might have.

“Oh, I didn’t even ask,” she huffs, annoyed at herself. “Do you like Indian and sushi?” She cocks her head to the side. “There is this wonderful fusion restaurant on the rooftop. They also make wonderful cocktails.”

“Indian and sushi fusion?” Such an idea had never occurred to you in your entire life, but since they’re two of your favorite foods? Why not. “Sounds incredible. Let’s do it.”

“Oh you will love it.” She promises. “They make these Tikka masala salmon rolls that are to die for.” She rolls her eyes and hooks her arm through yours. “Eat and then shop or shop and then eat?”

"Why don't we eat and then shop?" You suggest, knowing that at some point you will have to bow out and take the city bus back home for work tonight. It would be nice to share a meal beforehand.

“That sounds completely fair.” She knows where you are going and immediately guides you towards the elevators to take you up from the garage level. “We will get to know each other and perhaps get drunk while we do it.”

"Maybe." It seems rude to point out that you're going to work after this so that won't be a possibility, so you simply shrug one shoulder and allow the question to hang in the air. As if you didn't envy the freedom she has so much more than just a little.

She hums, far more observant than she would appear and once the doors open to let you inside the car, she drags you in and presses the button for the rooftop. “Oh damn. You didn’t bring sunglasses.” She huffs and quickly presses the button for the third level. “Quick stop before lunch.”

"I don't need sunglasses, Ellaria. Really, I promise." She's laughing, though, and so radiant that you bite your lip and swallow the protest, starting to do the math in your head for if you can even afford to look at sunglasses in one of these fancy stores.

Once the elevator stops on the desired floors she whisks you away and down the marbled floors towards the stores. “Armani or Louis Vuitton?” She asks, turning and staring at your face for a second in contemplation.

"I—" You feel like melting into the floor, but she is whisking you down the hallway and apparently not stopping for anything so you swallow what would otherwise be a whimper of worry and decide your credit card is going to have to come out today. "Armani," you decide, knowing the prices there will be considerably lower than anything Louis Vuitton would ever carry.

“Fantastic!” Her eyes light up and she steers you towards the store. “We will find the perfect pair.” She hums and smirks. “The sunglasses and a bikini will be the perfect outfit for an evening around the water gardens.”

"Ellaria." That makes you pause, and you put one hand on her arm gently. "I do have to work tonight."

“No.” She frowns, a small pout on her face and she shakes her head. “That’s not fun. You deserve more than just one evening off to recover from the masquerade.”

“Well…no. It isn’t fun.” That is certainly not the reaction you expected from her, although you’re not entirely sure what reaction you did expect. “But…that’s why they call it work, right?”

She huffs and lifts a brow. “How much do you make an hour?” She demands, even if she knows it’s rude.

You huff, feeling deeply put on the spot, and try to remember that your best friend is half in love with this woman so maybe you should just grit your teeth on manners. “Not much,” you tell her, and when she raises an eyebrow you look down at the floor. “Both of my jobs pay minimum wage. That’s why I need two.” At least the tips are good, you remind yourself. At least the tips are good.

“I will give you one thousand dollars to be my assistant for the afternoon.” She decides, immediately opening her purse and pulling out her wallet. “Will that cover the lost wages?”

“Ellaria…” To a passerby, or even to yourself just days ago, it might seem callous. Flippant. But one of the things you do know for certain about Ellaria Sand is that she is not a careless person. The small and large acts of kindness and caretaking you had seen from her in the small time you had known her reinforce that knowledge. She isn’t careless, she’s just a deeply blunt person.

“Is that not enough?” She glances up at you with a look of concern on her face. She could have sworn it would cover it, but perhaps you have extremely good tips.

“It’s like three weeks’ pay, that isn’t the point.” The Milk of Human Kindness, that was the phrase. Ellaria is tough. Strong. But made with the milk of human kindness. “I need to keep my job. I can’t just call out whenever I feel like it.”

“Hand me your phone.” Ellaria demands, holding her hand out.

“Why?” But even as you ask it, that part of your mind that is conditioned to please others by doing what your told has you reaching for your cell phone in your pocket.

You’ve opened it for her, so Ellaria taps your contacts and finds that you are a very organized kind of girl. Another reason why Oberyn must adore you and why the idea that has come to mind is such a good one. She clicks on a number and holds the phone up to hear ear, motioning for you give her one seconds.

“I’d like to speak to the manager please.” She murmurs politely when the call connects. As she’s waiting, she smiles at you reassuringly.

“Thank you for calling Main Street Pizza, this is Greg.” The tired, heavily accented voice of a sixty-year-old lifelong smoker who has audibly given up on life comes over the line. “You wanted to talk to the manager?”

“Yes, this Ellaria Sand.” She introduces herself as she watches you shift in front of her. “I have one of your employees standing in front of me right now.” She says your name and waits for him to acknowledge that fact.

“Yeah?” The man drawls, snapping on his gum. “Listen lady, I’m sorry if she said something to piss you off but unless she’s on the clock? She’s not my problem.”

She snorts at his answer, shaking her head and hating that you have ever worked for such a dick. “Oh no darling, you are very much mistaken.” She chuckles. “I’m calling to inform you that she will not be in tonight.” She pauses for a moment. “Or ever again. Consider this her notice.”

“Ellaria!” Your hiccuped shriek of fear and dismay covers whatever your boss blusters on the other end of the call, but she only smiles at you and fends you off as you try to take your phone back.

“How do you sleep at night?” She continues on. “Paying your employee wages that make them have two, sometimes three jobs to just be able to survive.” She hisses. “You should be ashamed of yourself, even though I know you won’t be. But you will no longer be taking advantage of her!” With that, she pulls the phone away from her ear and ends the call.

“What the hell am I supposed to do now?!” As soon as she hands you back your phone you’re fumbling, hands shaking as you blindly try to punch the necessary buttons to call the pizza place back and beg your awful boss to take you back. “I need to survive, Ellaria!”

“Don’t you dare call that place back.” She chides softly, reaching out and taking your hands in hers. “You will not be destitute.” She swears.

��How?” Fear and desperation rises so high in your throat you feel sick. “Money doesn’t fall out of trees, I know you know how hard it is to make it on your own. And this isn’t just about me! Lizzy and I live together. If I can’t pay my half of the rent, we both end up evicted.”

She feels bad, truly, when she sees how desperate you are. “Shhhhhush.” She coos softly, letting go of your hands and cradling your jaw in both her hands. “I have already thought of the perfect replacement for your terrible jobs.” She promises. “And if you do not wish to take it, I will personally pay your bills until you find something you want.”

“My finances are not your responsibility.” Accountability has been drilled into your head for your entire life, and now it comes screaming to the surface even in the face of her reassurance. “I’m not qualified for anything. My job experience is all retail and food service. Getting a job is impossible even for the well-educated. I appreciate your standing up for my worth but the reality is that no employer is going to pay that well.”

She sighs softly. “Oberyn has been toying with the idea of having a curator for his collections.” She murmurs softly. “He has so many duplicate books, so many different libraries. He wants to condense them. He’s mentioned it many times. He will give you the job.” Her lover has no problem helping others with their dreams and goals. He is very generous and it seems as if she is battering down the gates of your life rather than sweetening you to the prospect of what he can offer you. “I have made a mess of all this.” She huffs. “I was supposed to show you what could be yours rather than bully you into changing your life.”

“I’m not…entirely sure that I understand?” In fact you feel like you’re reeling, and that is not at all a helpful thing when you’re trying to process everything Ellaria is telling you. “Oberyn…wants to hire me? To be his personal curator?” You pinch your eyes shut and open them again but it doesn’t help to clear your mind. “He didn’t even know that…that I love libraries or that I studied history?”

“No.” She shakes her head and sighs, looking around before she pulls you closer. “Let’s buy your sunglasses and I promise I will explain while we have a very stiff drink, okay love?”

“Well…” you’re shrug your shoulders helplessly. “I don’t have to work anymore, so I guess a drink is okay.”

“Don’t be too mad at me, I promise you will be perfect. Hopefully even wonderful.” She promises, although she feels so guilty right now.

“I’m not mad.” The realization washes over you and you swallow, holding back a thick coating of emotion. “I’m…scared. And I know we barely know each other so this whole outing has been oversharing anyway.”

“We might not know each other well, but we will.” Of that, she is absolutely certain. “Come, we will pick out a pair of sunglasses and then we will work everything out.” She takes your hand again and starts to steer you towards the Armani store.

It seems pointless to ask how she is so certain. Ellaria appears to be certainly of everything. Instead you just allow yourself to be tugged along, worried and scared and anxious that whatever this remarkable, chaotic woman has to say to you will shake your fragile life even further.

In the store, Ellaria has you try on a dozen pair of sunglasses, not letting you look at the tags before she nods. “Those are the ones.” She decides. “How do you like them?”

They’re classic Armani tortoise shell glasses that complement the shape of your face no matter who you are, and honestly you’d be silly not to love them. “They’re beautiful,” you admit, a little too softly. “But Ellaria…” But you just quit my job for me.

“Don’t.” She holds up a finger and then gently pulls them off your face. “My treat.” She insists before she whirls around and hands them to the associate. “Please get the box for these. She will be wearing them out, of course.”

The associate nods and walks away to comply, not seeing the ways your brows furrow. The feeling in your chest is an odd mixture of shame, guilt, and an unexpected appreciation for the woman currently offering you a slice of something beautiful and lasting for no other reason than kindness. Ellaria — and Oberyn, for that matter — owe you nothing. But that does not stop them from giving, apparently.

“Thank you,” you offer finally, unsure what else to say.

“You have nothing to thank me for.” She huffs. “I have made your anxiety go through the roof.”

“My anxiety is always through the roof.” You laugh it off because she’s right. “That doesn’t make you less nice.”

She snorts and shakes her head, "you are too precious." She murmurs and pulls out her credit card to pay for the glasses.

“So why exactly are sunglasses so mandatory for this restaurant?” You ask, trying not to fidget in place at the cash stand. “Just because it’s on the roof?”

"Absolutely." She smiles and turns towards you as the clerk runs the card.

“That seems a little dramatic.” Still, you smile affectionately. “But then? So is Oberyn. So I shouldn’t be surprised you are, too.”

"I have spent so much time with my lover that I am sure that our characteristics have merged." She laughs. "But I was honestly thinking about how good you will look wearing these and a small bikini we are going to buy you after lunch."

“You mentioned that before.” Walking out of the store together, you laugh again and shake your head a little. “Determined to have me out by that pool at some point? Or is that what Oberyn wanted you to butter me up for?”

She hums in amusement. "No, I don't think that you would believe me if I told you right now." She admits softly.

“One very strong cocktail, right?” Trying to be encouraging, you wave your hand toward the escalator inside the mall and smile. “Let’s go.”

Ellaria takes the bag that has the luxurious box and carrying case for the glasses. "Very strong." She laughs as she swings the bag and loops her arm through yours.

Three floors up, the roof of the luxury shopping center has a smattering of cafes and restaurants, but Ellaria leads you toward one accented with bold patterned tablecloths and oversized gold-upholstered armchairs. Soft music plays inside, and it becomes apparent as soon as the hostess starts leading you inside that the music being piped up to the front of the restaurant to greet diners is actually coming from the live performer out in the dining area.

The skylight is nothing but glass above you, hence why Ellaria had bought you the sunglasses. The hostess brings you over to a beautiful table that is one to very obviously meant to be seen at. “Perfect.” She smiles as the two of you are seated.

"I'll give you ladies some time with the drink menu," the hostess says, before striding away to return to her stand.

It's a stunning place, really. The bright afternoon sun is high overhead and the live music is entrancing. A few people murmur as they recognize Ellaria but she seems entirely unbothered by it. She has been a part of the local gossip in this city so long that it hardly seems to matter to her in the least. Which, you have to admit, is admirable as much as it is enviable.

“So, shall we have a chai martini?” She asks as she looks over the menu. “I know they are excellent.”

"Sounds great," you agree, happy to follow her lead. The fact that it does actually sound good helps immensely.

“You will not regret it.” The second the menu is set down, the waiter is at Ellaria’s elbow. “Two chai martini’s, please and in five minutes have another two brought to the table.” She requests with a smile.

Making a face as if to tell her it’s an admirable pace, you end up laughing as the two of you look over entrees together. You decide on sharing a few sushi rolls of varying degrees of fusion, and by the time the waiter returns Ellaria thanks him and puts in your lunch order easily.

“So.” She holds her martini glass up to yours and clinks it with a small tap. “To new and blossoming friendships.”

“I will absolutely drink to that.” If nothing else, you had agreed to this lunch for Lizzy, but it seems like things are already on their way to becoming far more entangled and interesting than simply a lunch with your best friend’s lover.

Ellaria takes a very long sip of her martini and sighs happily when she is pulling away from the glass. “Now….” She sets the glass down and settles back into her chair. She feels a little more calm now. “We can talk about things.”

“Yes, please.” The drink is delicious, but you can’t deny the burning curiosity. What could she possibly be wanting to talk to you about that required a drink and such an elaborate outing? If Oberyn didn’t want to see you anymore he could simply have said so and that would have been that. You would have been bitterly disappointed, of course, but you’re a big girl. Hearts mend.

“Oberyn wanted me to bring you out today.” She admits shamelessly. “To treat you, sweeten you up for him.” Her hands spread and she shrugs slightly. “But I have been a little too aggressive.”

“That’s the part I don’t understand,” you admit, unintentionally leaning forward in your seat at even the mention of his name. When it comes to Oberyn, you understand that you are simply one in a long line. But he is so incredibly unique that you can’t find it in yourself to mind one bit. “Sweeten me up for what?”

“He wants you.” She tells you bluntly. “Want you to have a relationship with him.”

"Oh!" That was certainly not on the list of things you had counted as possibilities for this conversation -- or ever -- and you're honestly just glad that you hadn't taken a sip of your drink in that moment. "Then...I don't..." Your cheeks flare hot and you clear your throat. "I don't want to sound rude but...why not just ask me that himself?"

“He wanted my opinion on you.” She admits. “And Oberyn likes to give. He is very generous with his lovers and even more so with the ones he has more than just casual flings with. However, he has noticed that you are not like others. He wanted me to show you a glimpse of what he could offer you.”

"You mean I didn't sleep with him because he's famous and wealthy?" It must have really struck a chord with him that you didn't recognize him. That you had just liked him. Been honestly attracted to the man for who he is. "He's a good man. And alarmingly sexy. But you know that better than I do. It isn't hard to be attracted to him. Not at all."

“Oh I know.” She promises. “But your sentiment is exactly what has drawn him in. He wants to keep that for himself.” She picks up her martini glass again. “He is always accusing me of being greedy, but he is just as greedy.”

"So...he wants to...keep me?" You raise your eyebrow at that and have to concede that she was right. You absolutely did need a strong drink for this. "I know he would never give you up, and I certainly would never ask him to."

“Yes.” She nods bluntly. “Oberyn has never been one to limit his appetites, nor limit those of his lovers.” She explains. “It is why your Lizzy found her way into my bed and you tumbled into his.” She smiles.

"And he didn't know if I would be willing to be kept." The thought had never even crossed your mind before. It isn't like there are an abundance of opportunities for broken young women to actually find rich men to shower them in money that aren't either incredibly creepy or bordering on illegal. "So he asked you to make it appealing to me."

“Some find it morally or ethically repugnant.” Ellaria snorts indelicately and rolls her eyes. “Oberyn kept me from selling myself on the streets the first night he met me.” She admits. “I was one hour away from going to work at the brothel when I stopped into a bar to have a drink.”

"What's repugnant is people forcing others into desperate circumstances. Not choosing your own means of survival." Still, your mind reels. Not about any sort of moral hang up but just about the reality of the situation. "I wouldn't feel right taking money for nothing," you tell her honestly. "I don't know what the hell I'm qualified to do, but I would feel like I would have to do something for him."

“That is why his library would be perfect for you.” She hums. “I have a feeling you would be spending plenty of time there anyway.” She winks saucily at you. “But I feel as if I have force you into these circumstances.” She frowns as the words come out. “Which is why I will pay for your bills if you decide not to accept Oberyn’s offer.”

"You don't have to do that." While it's appreciated, it still wouldn't feel right. You haven't done anything to earn that sort of generosity from her. "But...can I ask you...what it's like?" Over her shoulder, you can see the waiter approaching with a tray full of small plates and you finish your thought quickly. "Your arrangement wouldn't be exactly the same as mine, I understand that. But...you're the only person I know I could ask as an example."

She smiles, waiting as the plates are brought to the table, along with the second set of martinis. “Another set of drinks in fifteen minutes.” She requests and looks back at you after thanking the waiter. “It’s….freeing.” She admits. “He will not keep you from taking another lover, he would love to play with you if you so choose. He’s intelligent and charming, bold and some would say that he is quick to temper, but he would never harm you.” She promises. “You have the freedom to do what you wish, with whomever you wish it, as long as you also fulfill his need of you.”

You can't help but smile at that. "Which...let's face it. It's Oberyn. That need is an active one."

“And it will only increase when you have children.” She laughs. “I was having to beat him off of me when I was carrying.” She’s joking, but only just.

"That..." The thought dawns on you with the force of summer sun. "That's why you asked me if I wanted a family?"

“I could not see Oberyn denying himself - or you - a child.” She admits with a small shrug. “He does have eight daughters that he adores.”

"I guess I haven't really thought about it as a possibility," you admit. "Not having a partner put a damper on that. And even my ex wasn't too hot on the idea of kids."

“You will never meet a more excited, or involved father.” She can readily testify to that. He has an individual and close relationship with each of his daughters. Any other children would most definitely be treated to the same relationship.

“Do you…I’m sorry if this is rude, but do you have any kind of relationship with the other girl’s mothers?” While you talk she nudges the food toward you a little and you both begin to eat. “I’m just trying to imagine how so large a family fits together.”

“The others…..” Ellaria sighs. “It’s complicated. But the other women wanted nothing to do with the children beyond what Oberyn could give them. So he took custody.” She explains. “He offered to let them see the girls, but none of them have.”

“I see.” That doesn’t sit well with you at all, but it isn’t your place to have an opinion on any of it. Whatever deals Oberyn made with those women it happened a long time ago and it has nothing to do with you. You just hate the idea of the daughters being used as bargaining chips in any way.

She can see that the entire thing bothers you and she reaches out. “He never would have taken them from their mothers if they loved them as the children they were, rather than a means of income.” She promises. “Although the last one before me, she was a nun.”

“I suppose I just don’t like the idea that anyone would ever think of having kids as a source of income,” you admit, trying to wipe the frown off your face. “But life is complicated. I’m sure there was more going on that I have no idea about.”

“He will tell you about each case if you wish.” She knows Oberyn has nothing to hide about his children, never would hide anything.

“I’ll ask once things are…settled.” Once you know what this next step in your life is going to look like. Because despite the uncertainty and the unexpectedness of what is being offered to you, it is an offer that you don’t really see the downside to. Sure…it would only last as long as he decides he’s happy with the rearrangement. But isn’t all employment at will, so to speak?

“He can be very open.” She smiles and picks up her chopsticks. “Shall we partake in your first experience with this particular fusion?” She asks playfully. “And you can ask me any other questions you might have.”

“Is it too forward to ask what your arrangement with Oberyn is?” She’s the only person you could ask such a thing, after all, and you’re curious. He asked her to warm you up to the idea — but the only idea you have of it all right now is vague at best.

“We are lovers.” She has no issue sharing with you. “Friends, companions. Everything you could imagine short of marriage.” She holds a piece of sushi up and examines it as she talks. “But we also have the freedom to do as we wish. If I were walk away today, Oberyn would let me go, and everything I have would still be mine, even though everyone knows he gave it to me.”

“Did you always live with him?” The first of the sushi rolls that you try is bursting with the familiar tastes of tandoori spices and the sweet tang of seasoned sushi rice. Unexpected but very delicious.

“From the very first night.” She nods. “Oberyn does not like giving up a good thing when he has it.” She smirks at you. “As you are finding out.”

"I just don't want to leave Lizzy without help," you explain, and if it wasn't abundantly clear to Ellaria that you were seriously considering the offer it should be now. "Living expenses are enormous. And she has a good job, but it's still hard."

“Ohhhh, I don’t think you would need to worry about Lizzy.” She hums, her smirk deepening.

"And what exactly does that mean?" You ask, raising one eyebrow in interest.

“It means that your friend is a very special woman.” She winks and reaches for another roll.

"I hope it means you're going to be good to her, too?" That would be so much of what Lizzy wants. So very much.

“Of course she would be very well spoiled.” She winks again. “We have decided that the apartments in the west wing that aren’t being used will be remodeled.”

“We?” The bite of sushi in your mouth is a little too big for talking around delicately and you swallow quickly. “You and Oberyn have already talked about it?”

“We have always had the agreement that if we have found someone we are willing to have an arrangement with, that we would bring them to us rather than take away potential time with the girls.” She explains.

“So…you’re going to offer Lizzy an arrangement, too?” What an utter relief that would be, if it’s true. Lizzy is besotted with Ellaria and loves kids despite not wanting to have any herself. She would be so happy to be a part of a family but have the freedom to come and go and live her own life as she pleases.

“I was hoping she would be up for it.” Ellaria admits. “I have so enjoyed the time with her and find that we are very compatible.”

"I think she will love it." And that fact is like the last of your reservations melting away. Like the thing holding you back wasn't worry for yourself, but worry for your friend who had pulled you out of the pit you were in after your breakup. Lizzy had pulled you out, dusted you off, and gotten you back on your feet and you would never ever abandon her after that kind of love.

She can see that you are relaxed knowing that your friend would be taken care of and that speaks to your character so much more than any words could. “He is right.” She muses. “You are wonderful.”

"I don't know about that," you shake your head, ill-equipped for such a shining compliment. "But I love my best friend very much."

“Of course you do.” She tuts softly, as if it is beyond reason that you would think otherwise.

------

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

[radioiaci]

𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 𝕽𝖔𝖘𝖊 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖉𝖊 𝕭𝖆𝖑𝖑 - Open Starter

[ Preface: Alastor is in attendance as Rosie's ( @cannibalxroses ) spouse in this universe. They have been both privately and publicly announced as a married pair. This thread is open for interaction with any others who are attending the ball and are okay with this setup! ] [ Alastor's Masquerade Outfit ]

He is hovering.

Though he's been in attendance at Rosie's side for the majority of the night, he has allowed her to drift and mingle as needed. But he is close by, only opting to speak in friendly candor when approached, but otherwise lingering like a stone monolith, both keeping an eye on the door for any unwanted intruders and on Rosie for any indications that he is needed at her side. But she is an expert in the art of the affair; he will not pretend that he is necessary to remain so rooted at her side.

Unless asked, of course.

In his hand, he nurses a drink, though it's not quite clear whether it's one of the red wine variety or if it is actually some of the offered blood beverage. He will keep all guessing as to which. Alastor will not be giving away the secret. (He enjoys just the touch of mystery, given that it is quite obvious as to who he is beneath the motif of his mask.)

But he is quite pleased that, thus far, the evening's festivities seem to be going off without a hitch. Pleased on Rosie's behalf, really.

As he orbits the room, he will continue to observe, looking for all of the world like a circling vulture to prey upon the corpse of any creature or thing that could threaten to subvert all of Rosie's work and dedication to the event.

He will not allow any of that, so long as he is watching.

And he will certainly enjoy the music and the fare in the meantime.

[qveenofgluttony]

Beelzebub's Masquerade Ball Schedule

Mun’s Note: This is not a strict schedule.* I will move activities/events around slightly if needed or if something comes up. This is just a general outline of what to expect during the event. I will also be posting many plot-driven drabbles between times. And once again, the event itself is not chronologically locked. Even before the event resumes the next couple of days or when it ends people are still welcome to continue event threads if they wish. If you would like to participate and still have not received an invitation, please feel free to like this post.

*Reminder that this schedule is in Central Standard Time (CST)

Friday

6 pm - Opening Words/Guest Arrival

- I will post an opening drabble that will kick off the event. After which, muns are welcome to make their own posts or drabbles of their muses arriving at the ball.

7 pm - Beelza Opening Performance

- I will be posting a lyric drabble of Beelza performing for the guests. In addition, I will also be posting a plot-driven drabble to go along with this one. Muses are welcome to make dash commentary with their reactions or interact with Beelza during this time if they wish.

8 pm - Costume Contest

- I will post a link of all the submitted costumes so everyone can vote for the one they like best. I will try to give guests a couple of hours to vote before announcing the winner of the costume contest.

9 pm - 10 pm - Open Floor Dancing

- This is pretty much down time for muses to mingle with other guests, grab drinks, explore the venue, etc.

10 pm - Costume Contest Winner Announcement

- The top three finalists and the winner of the costume contest will be announced!

11 pm - Midnight - Cool down

- More mingling, dancing, food and drink until guests are ready to retire to their guest rooms or go home if they wish and rest until the next day.

Saturday

3 pm - Ball Resumes

- Just as it says. The ball resumes!

4 - 5 pm - Dancing “Contest”

- The generated pairings of the muses participating in the dance contest will be announced. The paired muses are encouraged to interact with each other during this time. Muses who are not participating are also free to comment or react. Once the hour is over the paired muses are free to continue to interact or leave the dance floor. If you would still like to participate in the dancing contest, you can like this post here.

5 - 7 pm - Open Floor Dancing

- The rest of the guests are allowed to re-enter the dance floor after the contest is over. Also more down time for muses to mingle with other guests, grab drinks, etc.

7 pm - Glam Sisters Performance

- Same as Beelza’s, I will be posting a lyric drabble of the Glam Sisters performing for the guests.

8 pm - Midnight - Cool down

- Another chill time for the guests to mingle, drink and eat, and dance.

Sunday

3 pm - Ball resumes

- Just as it says. The ball resumes!

4 - 8 pm - Open Mic

- Beelza will open the stage to anyone who wishes to entertain the rest of the guests with their musical talents. If muns would like, they are free to write a short drabble of their muses “performing” with a song of their choice. Please tag either of my blogs @/infernal-feminae or @/qveenofgluttony if you would like me to reblog it for visibility purposes.

8 - 11 pm - Open Floor Dancing

- Down time for muses to mingle, dance, etc.

10 pm - Beelzebub’s Identity Announcement

- Beelza will invite the guests to come up and try their luck at guessing Beelzebub’s identity before she reveals herself. The first muse to guess correctly will receive their reward. If no one can correctly guess then she will reveal herself in the next hour.

11 pm - Beelzebub Closing Performance

- Beelzebub reveals herself and gives a closing musical performance to wrap up the ball. 

[xluciifer]

Alright, just to keep track of the Blood Ball Masquerade, Lucifer had a last change of plans and will be attending with @arachnaemboss, @hellsbroadcaster and @unholi. Zestial, Alastor and his bodyguard, Blitzo. And an AU idea with @gctchell of Lucifer and Lilith running into each other after having parted ways when they originally fell to Hell and coming back to cross paths again at the ball. And I want to respond to @cannibalxroses starter to start a relationship and interaction with their Rosie. It'll be my first time with one to thread and go forward with.

So the plan is to have 5 new threads that all surround the idea of this ball event; and I'm more than happy to also create other new threads with people that Lucifer mingled with or met during the ball since I'm in a better place to start more threads again. :]

[londonfalling-rpg]

DECEIT BEHIND THE MASK

In the bustling city of London, where the aristocracy mingles with the working class, a grand event unfolds at the renowned Liddell Hippodrome. The highlight of the season are the highly anticipated horse races, attracting elite spectators and enthusiastic bettors alike, and elevated by an exclusive masked party.

Unbeknownst to most attendees, the Jolly Rogers have infiltrated the event, turning the prestigious horse races and masquerade into a breeding ground for a high-stake robbery.

PART ONE: THE DIVERSION

The plan involves diverting attention during a crucial race and creating chaos.

To do so, the Jolly Roger leadership engineered a series of carefully coordinated disruptions. Staged accidents on the race track, power outages at the party, or a carefully timed protest outside the hippodrome: all are drawing resources away from security measures and providing cover for their nefarious activities.

Among the guests the tension grows. Civilians remain oblivious to what might be going on in the shadows while the Jolly Rogers and the Jabberwocks engage in a game to which no one knows the rules, and everyone plays for their own glory.

Welcome to our first event!

You can now begin plotting and threading for Part One. Please tag all your event related threads/replies with #event: behind the mask. You can keep replying to non-event related threads as well if you like, but we encourage you to use this opportunity to thread with characters you haven't interacted with yet!

The first stage will last one week, after which Part Two will be revealed. If you like, you can post edits of your character's outfits or costumes for the races. Be as creative as you like!

[ravenspeakrp]

After months of rebuild, the lounge club Midnight Mirage, hosted by owner Noah Morgrave, is celebrating it's official reopening! All of Raven's Peaks citizens are welcome in joining the celebration by taking part in a masquerade.

All attendees are expected to dress their best and adorn their faces with masks - as ornate or elaborate as one wishes! Midnight Mirage will be outfitted in it's own intricate style to match the details of the event; glittering chandeliers, luxurious drapes, and ambient lighting that casts a soft glow across the open dance floor. Guests may sip on champagne and indulge in exquisite hors d'oeuvres and desserts provided by Atlas Moretti's Nouveau Table staff, all while engaging in lively conversations filled with mystery and allure.

Live music will be provided by a local band, Ghost Under Oath. The bar will be open for service with a wide selection of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages throughout the event. Join us for a night of mystery and elegance, mingling and dancing with one another in celebration of Midnight Mirage!

Out of Character Information

The grand reopening of Midnight Mirage will be taking place on October 12th in game, while the mini event itself will run from October 12th - October 19th.

During this time frame feel free to post closed or open starters for your characters as desired!

Participation is not required but highly encouraged.

Current threads can continue during this period and you are welcome to wrap up your mini event threads as desired after the event has concluded.

Additionally, feel free to share your character's outfit for the masquerade! Tag your outfits with #ravensmasquerade so everyone knows where to find them.

[helluva-hazbins]

Considering attending the Blood Rose Masquerade Ball Event. But I need to doublecheck to see if I will have time to prep and then make sure I can clear schedule.

If I do.

Lucifer will be available to attend. He'll go single or with his daughter Charlie but he understands she may be accompanying her own partner. Open slot for a Lilith subplot[details in dm] he will participate in mingling and dancing threads.

Husk may attend. He'll have an open slot for his date.

Idk if I will have Vox participate. More to be announced.

[bal-masque-des-grands-chapeaux]

A masked stranger...

That's not that unusual in this crowd!

An open thread for more mingling, after a response.

One of Soult's aides, a young shadowy individual in an abstract umbral tendril'd mask, will come up to a man bearing the mask of an octopus with its iridescent violet tentacles flowing around the eyes and sweeping back over his hair.

Says the young aide trying to make themself more audible, "Ah! Greetings! I like your mask, monsieur! It's a lot like mine. I have been asked to bring this place to the guests. Would you like some hors d'oeuvres, sir?"

They hold a large plate full of little bits of bread with salmon and cream on top, offering it to the mysterious masked man excitedly.

[funnywiccanwritingcorner]

Le Joyau le plus precieux

A Lucky Luke Modern!AU fanfiction

Chapter II - The Black Rabbit

It was not difficult for Jack to find good elements for the special team, just as William identified through his research the most likely target for the next theft: in those days in Versailles a special exhibition was to be held on a treasure, long considered lost, fished up from the bottom of the sea off the coast of Portugal. Having established that it was a treasure transported from a French galleon, it had been brought back and restored: gold and silver, plates, cups and jewellery of beautiful workmanship made available to the public after months, together with the reconstructed ship, in the halls of the former royal palace. Surely such a golden opportunity could not have gone unnoticed by Lucky Luke. They were finally going to get him! But Joe's confidence wavered when he inspected Averell's dog team: not only had he managed to procure just a single dog, but the stupidest one had ever seen! -Why did you get Rantanplan?!?- The brown mutt with the big nose felt himself being called in, and began to wag his tail at Joe. -The other dogs are busy with anti-drug operations. Only he was left; but don't worry, he obeys me! We're in perfect harmony, aren't we Rantanplan?- smiled Averell, stroking the dog on the head. -Of course, between an imbecile and an idiot it can only be true love...- muttered the elder through clenched teeth, -Okay, never mind. People, may I have your attention? Good. Thanks to William, we have been informed that there will be a masquerade reception on the first evening of the exhibition. We have arranged with members of Palace of Versailles security to work together to capture Lucky Luke. We will be mixed in with the crowd in costume, so we will hire custom-made clothes for the occasion. The dog must also be dressed up. In the tactical room you will find a dossier with all the details of the operation and a map of the palace and gardens, which you will have to study ad nauseam. Meeting in an hour, dismissed. See you shortly.- As they walked away, two officers started talking to each other. -Is it true what they say about Detective Dalton.- -What is it? - -That he makes up for his short stature with authority.-

Four days of frantic preparations animated the department: in order for the operation, dubbed 'Masquerade', to be a success, Joe had imposed special drills in courses designed according to the structure of the building. Although, to be honest, these training sessions took place in the gymnasium that had been adapted for the purpose, but with a little imagination it could work. For the costumes they had turned to a tailor who would sew them to measure and modify them so that bulletproof vests could be worn underneath. One could never know. Pierre went and knocked on the door of Joe's office a few hours before the start of the operation: -Sir? May I come in?- -Sure, come on in!- The archivist froze on the threshold: the detective, standing on a stool, was in the company of the tailor who was putting the finishing touches to the costume. A typical eighteenth-century suit, with knee-length trousers and a jacket with marsine, it had finally been decorated on the latter with gold threads at the edges and buttons of the same colour. -What do you think?- -Very elegant, sir...- Gerard blushed violently. -What's going on, then?- -The... The... Team... Waiting... In the tactical room...- -Tell them I'm coming. Are you alright?- Without answering, the colleague ran away with his head down. -What's wrong with the boy?- the tailor asked. Joe merely shrugged, slipping the mask on to match the suit: -It's loose.-

The former royal residence, already magnificent during the day, had taken on a kind of fairy-tale aura by the evening of the first day of the exhibition. The fountains in the gardens had been switched on for the occasion, so an initial welcome was provided by the water games in the large basins; the gurgling of the water mingled with the excited chatter of the guests dressed in theme, however, with masks of all kinds on their faces: cats and other animals, harlequins, Venetian masks, half-face or full-face, of many different colours. The large square leading to the main entrance was packed to capacity; the façade of the building was illuminated by multi-coloured spotlights that accentuated the unreal effect. The interior had been slightly adapted to accommodate the exhibition, but the baroque style compensated for the far too modern display cases containing the treasures. Amidst the cheerful guests, the Dalton brothers and the special team hovered as planned. Rantanplan, who had been decked out for the occasion with a big pink bow instead of a collar and held on a leash by Averell, was excited, but didn't understand a thing: "How beautiful! I've never seen people dressed as chandeliers; I wonder if they have light bulbs underneath!" He pulled, eager to go and investigate, but was held back by Averell: -Be good, we must keep watch!- Through the earphones, Joe made contact with the brothers: -The first floor is under the control of the A team, we have to move here and report any suspicious behaviour.- He adjusted his mask and continued to wander through the crowd. Fine classical music hovered without overpowering the voices, being almost annoying to the detective's ears.

Suddenly Joe had the impression that he was being watched. Unfortunately, being so short, he couldn't see much beyond the ladies' wide skirts, so he had to make his way around before he spotted a tall, dark figure moving a little too quickly in the opposite direction to the crowd. -Hey, you!- Dalton ran after what he identified as a man dressed in black. He pursued him, unconcerned that he was getting too far away from his brothers, but he had a strange feeling about him and felt he had to trust it.

He stopped in the splendid Gallery of Mirrors, which was strangely empty. For the uninitiated, this area of the palace owes its name to the spectacular play of mirrors and windows that seem to multiply in the reflections of the former in an incredible optical illusion. It was in front of one of these windows that the stranger, who had arrived there before Joe, very nonchalantly turned in the detective's direction and smiled at him: -Yes? Do you need anything, sir?- Dalton, catching his breath, paused to look at the other: he wore a white wig under a tricorn hat, and a half-face mask in the shape of a rabbit, black. Otherwise he seemed to have copied the detective's costume. He was tall and slender, and had an aura of mystery around him. -Sir, may I help you?- the stranger asked again, courteously. Joe found that he had been staring at him, and caught by a moment of embarrassment, he mumbled: -Oh, no, er... I'm sorry, I mistook you for someone else...- He tried to leave, but was held back by a gentle tap on his left shoulder: 

-Wait a minute! It's nice to have a chat with someone at a party, especially if you are lucky enough to meet the famous Joe Dalton.- The stranger had a low, pleasant voice, but the detective was not distracted, instead he became suspicious: -Do you know me?- -It's hard not to notice you. Your war against Lucky Luke has made the rounds of the newspapers; I confess that I follow your investigations with great interest.- The tone was that of a gentleman. A charming gentleman. Joe swallowed, still alert: -Sure... Yes, it's clear. I admit I'm pleased.- -I gather you expects to see that scoundrel here. Afraid he's going to steal the treasure? Because let's face it, the necklaces of the ladies present here tonight are beautiful, but costume jewellery.- -You have an eye for this kind of things?- -I know, let's say.- -Anyway, I can't say anything, it's confidential information.- He turned to the man, who gave him an enigmatic smile: -Denial is a form of confirmation, don't you know?- Dalton blushed a little. His attraction to both the female and male gender was no mystery to anyone, but it had never occurred to him to be confronted with such a bewitching individual with words alone! Without losing his expression, the man looked out of the window again: -It would be a shame, however, for the bustle of a theft to disturb such an atmosphere: it is such a beautiful night, and Versailles seems to shine with its own light. The real crime attributable to Lucky Luke might be to spoil this moment. Come and see, detective.- As if hypnotised, Joe joined him. Below, the gardens could be seen. -This place was a marvel in its day and still is today, don't you think?- -Yes, I do.- Trying to shake off his daze, Dalton said: -Although I'm no expert on monuments and works of art. Are you?- -I am a passionate reader, I know enough about art to understand it, and in a certain way...- The stranger looked at Joe: -I can see poetry wherever I go.- Shaking himself, he looked at a pocket watch that he pulled out of his jacket: -I'm afraid I'm late for an appointment. I must defect like the well-known White Rabbit, Detective Dalton.- The way he pronounced his name made Joe blush once more: -Ah, well, here, don't let me keep you; anyway, I have to get back to work, too.- Taking off his hat, the man made a bow worthy of a true eighteenth-century squire: -It only remains for us to take our leave here, Detective. I wish you well in catching your thief.- Shouts from the gardens brought Dalton's feet back down to earth: looking downstairs, he saw a cat, chased by Rantanplan, being chased by a woman being chased by Averell. -I'm sorry, I have to...- When he turned around, the stranger had disappeared. -...run away?- Forgetting the emotional turmoil that had triggered that encounter, Joe ran back to his brothers, and together they went to Averell's rescue.

Hours passed, but Lucky Luke did not show up. The evening passed without any reports or incidents after Rantanplan’s run, and Joe began to believe, or almost believe, that he had been wrong. But his instinct told him not to give up. -Joe, I'm sleepy...- complained Averell as he approached him, -The guests are leaving; let's go home.- -You guys go if you want, I'll stay here.- -Are you sure?- -He will come. He must, I feel it in my bones. Even if I have to be locked up in here all night, I will wait for him.- Not wanting to argue further, the brothers left him alone, and so did the special team. Slowly the building emptied, and Dalton and the night watchman remained, an old man in a blue uniform with a curved back and a full white beard. -You're a rock, Detective!-The latter croaked in Joe's direction, moving with a shaky step, -Are you so sure you want to stay?- -Absolutely. I will patrol these corridors to the bitter end.- -Or until you meet the queen.- -The Queen?- The old man grinned: -Do you not know the legend of the ghost of Marie Antoinette roaming the grounds of the Petit Trianon here at Versailles?- -I don't believe in ghosts.- -That's bad. She is not a lady of many words, perhaps because they cut off her head, but I assure you I have seen her with my own eyes, a soul in pain guilty of indifference to the French people.- -If you are trying to frighten me, you have the wrong man.- -Whatever. I have warned you. Night night...- With a shuffling step, the watchman snickered and left Joe alone for good. The lights went out shortly after.

In the darkness of the room, Dalton tried to reassure himself by gripping the butt of the gun with his hand. No, he did not believe in ghosts, but now that the light from outside gave the ancient place a ghostly air, his senses were on high alert. "Come on, no kidding... Even if they exists, spirits don't have bodies! They are harmless." Wandering through the corridors, with only the sound of his own footsteps echoing in that grand and majestic place, he returned at some point to the Mirror Gallery. 

So did the memory of the charming stranger, who seemed to have stepped out of an old novel. Joe didn't know why, but he compared him to a kind of Casanova, so good with words.... "I'm an idiot!" He slapped himself to come to his senses; at that moment he heard a suspicious sound: shattered glass. And it was coming from the treasure room!

Running as fast as he could, Dalton rushed to the site. All he saw was a broken display case and a necklace on the floor, as well as some empty supports in the case. Gripping his weapon and holding it forward, the detective entered the labyrinth of the exhibition, the yellowish light of the display cases as his only source of light. He inspected every nook and cranny of the room, but there was no one there but him. "But... where has he gone?" A low, mournful howl reached him from behind, making the hair stand up on the back of his neck. Turning sharply, he found himself hit by something white and icy, which enveloped him, knocking him to the ground. There was panic: was it Marie Antoinette?!? He cried out: -You shall not have me, damned ghost!- When he came to his senses and felt what had come over him, he realised it was only a sheet soaked in cold water. He heard another broken glass.

Drenched from head to toe, cursing whoever had organised such a prank, Joe freed himself from the cloth and almost ran out of breath: in front of him, intent on filling a bag with the jewellery on display, was a tall, thin man dressed completely in black and wearing a balaclava, equipped with a multi-pocket belt. This one froze upon being discovered, and stared at Joe.

-Lucky Luke!!!- 

On hearing his name, the thief sprang away, and Dalton began to chase him all over the palace. He avoided firing, even warning shots, because he didn't want to break some precious object that not even in fifty years he could repay.

The chase lasted a long time, but in the end Joe forced the thief to take refuge in the royal chapel. -Hands up!- ordered the detective, pointing the gun. Lucky Luke did not obey, merely turning and looking at him. -I have you in my sights, you cannot escape me this time!- With inhuman speed, the thief fired a shot that disarmed the other.

-Detective Dalton. You still haven't learned?-

That voice... Lucky Luke had never said a word, but to Joe that tone sounded familiar: -What?- -I'm glad you trusted your instincts, though I was hoping to put you on the right track.- -What the hell are you talking about?- With a low, derisory laugh, Lucky Luke set the bag down and put his hand on his hip: -I would never have allowed myself to spoil everyone's party.- It was the second cold shower for Joe: -You were that man... that sort of poet...!- -Not only that. I made sure to follow you even after our brief chat, you know?- -How? I didn't see you among the guests.- -What kind of unsuspected character can you most easily meet in a place like this?- Thinking about it for a moment, Dalton blinked: -The guardian...- Lucky retrieved his bag, took out a bracelet and put it in a belt pocket: -We must say goodbye again, I think.- -First tell me something: how come you decided to talk to me? At the party, here...- -I've been wanting to for a while, actually, but it's hard to have a word with someone when you've got fifty agents pointing their rifles at you...- He walked over, placing the bag of valuables in Joe's hands: -I got what I wanted. I wasn't as accurate as usual and I made a mess, do you mind holding these trinkets?- Wordlessly, the detective stared at the criminal, feeling again that sense of fascination that had struck him hours before. -Furthermore...- Lucky Luke leaned slightly towards the other: -I purposely revealed my use of disguises.- -To make me paranoid? To make me not trust anyone?- His hand trembled. -No.- Practically whispering in the ear of a now red-faced and unnerved Joe Dalton, he continued: -Because I want to show you my trust, Detective.- -Trust?- -There's a reason why I steal. Would you like to find out what is it?- That tone of voice would make a cobra's blood boil. -I'll show up.- Backing away a few steps, Lucky threw a smoke grenade on the ground, which triggered a coughing fit in Joe and forced him to close his eyes. When he could open them again, the thief had disappeared. He dropped the bag and went in search of his gun. What the hell had happened? Had he been hypnotised? Had he been dreaming? With a thousand thoughts swirling around in his head, and his heart that wouldn't stop hammering in his chest, he went and sat down in the first row of seats and tried to pull himself together, taking stock of the situation.

First: he was going to kick his brothers for leaving him there alone.

Second: he was going to see a good psychoanalyst, because he must have been completely brainwashed to have been bewitched like that by the man he was supposed to have arrested!!!

[jvsons]

“CARDINAL” IN CRIME

Jason Todd x vigilante! reader

MASTERLIST

WARNINGS • very vague descriptions of non consensual touch (not Jason)

CATEGORY • mostly romance buildup and a little comedy

SUMMARY •

All in an evening of a pesky cardinal chasing a hawk with eyes focused on a target.

AN • this is a gender neutral fic but be warned that the reader is wearing a dress, just in case that makes you uncomfortable

Amidst the milky lights casting the ballroom a soft glow, your eyes surveyed the mass of guests below. Hoards of feather-adorned outfits mingled around the vast room, only allowing you to pick up the fact that a majority of the people were dressed as eagles, fitting the theme of birds with a little less creativity than you liked. Ironically enough, you were dressed as a hawk, sticking to a long chestnut dress with feathers of your own threaded in your hair.

Your eyes narrowed in anticipation upon spotting the host of the event, clad in a flashy blue suit and practically setting himself up for you. A small tip from GCPD told you that this man was going to host a massive drug deal after hours, using the party and his evening time to lure rich residents in and convince them to buy from his corrupt business. Your task was to lead him outside as passively possible and put your slimmed-down utility belt to use, taking the head of the business down without alerting any of the henchmen.

You were just about to hop over the railings when the fraction of a yell rang out to your side, soon muffled and sending a knife sliding to the ground right before you. One of the head’s mobsters looked to be apprehended as he ran up to you and grabbed the knife, taking a swing and leaving you no choice but to gag him with his own tie and knock him out.

“You here to stop Mr. Jaybird too? Or are you just suspiciously good at defending yourself?”

Looking up, the lights fixed on a man dressed up in a crimson suit, adorned with a black tie and a mix of both colors resting over his face on masquerade covering.

“That depends on who you are.” You chose your words carefully, adjusting so your hands rested over your hidden utility belt. Amusement poked at the stranger’s face as his lips curved up, only leading to him discarding the mask with a whistle. Sticking blue eyes met yours, only partially visible due to the stray strands of raven hair dusting them.

“I’m on your side as long as you’re planning to bring this piece of shit down.”

“Huh.” You nodded, glancing down at the mobster before picking him up, opening the nearest door in the hallway, and throwing him into it. “What’s your game plan, Cardinal?”

“Depends on how you’re trying to do this, Hawk.” His reply was smooth, gaze flickering to you as he rested upon the railing. “He’s still down there, and I bet you could lure him in with no problem.”

You clicked your tongue at his remark, placing your hands on the smooth marble overlooking the area.

“The plan was to take him without any witnesses,” You started, attempting to form a new plan in your head while scanning the crowd. “How many guys did you take?”

“That’s a hard question, I don’t really keep count.” He smiled nonchalantly, aware that he was annoying you already. “Let’s set the bar at 10 guys.”

Hearing footsteps, you disregarded the conversation and glanced to the side, spotting a group of armed men about to turn the corner.

“Doesn’t matter now, they’re about to find a body.” You said, carefully hopping over the railing and dropping to perch on the pole under it. “We need to distract him or else this will get messy.”

“Right.”

The two of you were silent in your descent, joining the crowd hosted by the main man with no problem. Nothing that every person around you was coupled with another, you brushed over your cardinal’s hand. He got the message, not failing to send you a teasing smirk as his hand snaked around your waist, keeping you formally at his side as you approached the target.

A little shimmying later and you were right next to him, leading you to free yourself and raise the man’s attention with a polite clear of your throat.

“Hello, Mr. Jay.” Your smile was sickeningly fake, although working instantly as the man’s eyes lit up. “I’m an ambassador of Mr. Wayne’s enterprise, and I was hoping to speak with you in private about an arrangement we’d like to make with your business.”

“In private?” He mumbled, excitement pooling through his features as he took your hand. “Of course, my dear.”

You turned around as you began to be dragged away, only meeting the faces of couples and missing the one you were looking for. The concern was shed away as you felt eyes examining your body, fighting to rip his hand off of yours and knock him out cold in for everyone to see. However, you stuck it out until you were outside, comforted by the arrival of rain as it numbed the warm feeling of his grip of your skin.

“Now that we’re alone, I’d like to propose you an offer first.” His voice was laced with arousal as one of his hands dipped to trace over your leg, building up your disgust further with each inch he went up.

“How about you get a little respect and learn about consent?”

You sighed in relief as his hands were pulled off of you, taken by the back and shoved up against the wall by your partner.

“Who the Hell are you?” The man barked, struggling but unable to budge.

“To you, a man who knows how to treat women right.”

He scowled down at him before raising his fist, rousing a feeble plea from the criminal before rendering him unconscious with a single punch. Turning around, he adjusted his tie while the mass of blue slid to the ground harshly, extending a hand to you with a smile.

“But to you, it’s Jason.”

“Y/n.”

You couldn’t keep a smile from creeping up on your features as Jason spun you around, tilting you down before placing a phone in your open hand.

“I think you deserve to call this bastard in after that.”

He paused, looking up and humming before narrowing his eyes teasingly at you.

“And you deserve my number, let’s hurry up and get the cops here.”

[anditookthatmetaphorically]

There is a wolf inside me

and it hungers. Paces the whole of me, threatening the thread of my heel, and I fliNCH at every scrape of its footpads against the inside of my skull. I cower from its broken howls, cling to every waking thought it consumes in place of what it MUST HAVE, what squeezes the spittle dripping HOT and poisonous from its CLENCHED teeth, what drives its pacing to THRASHING its howling to SCREAMING over and over AGAIN the promise that is always broken once more once MORE once MORE and it will all be over PLEASE AGAIN I BEG YOU

With dense clouds, I fill my ears. With rough sand, I pour the lot, down my throat as. slow. and. careful. as. glass. And, when I hold the wolf’s mouth closed, I know what I risk.  Even before the muzzle is on, I feel it TREMBLING and I snatch my hand away-- disgusting ugly hate you hate me how dare you this should be MINE.

For all this, I don’t question what my struggles do to my body. Because anything is better than giving in. (Anything, I WILL DO ANYTHING, PLEASE)

I curl up on the head of a pin, and I imagine comfort. I hold myself still, as if I am prey that has not yet been snared, as though a blanket over my head might just protect me from the steady tick underneath, pretending I cannot hear or name or touch the predator that already has its teeth in my guts its claws around my THROAT that I am not SHAKING and WEAK and HUNGRY.

Tyr was brave, but I am only desperate.

It is agony it is ECSTASY it is hateful it is LOVE it is sickness it is SICKNESS it is pain it is HOPE and it

is

finally

.

.

quiet.

.

Together, we hold ourselves still.  Listening.  We hardly dare

to

.

And when the spell does not break, when the hunger curbs its ceaseless demand, I hope that I have killed the wolf, and the wolf hopes it has died.

But like a wound RIPPED open afresh, the hunger THROBS awake unsated, keener for cheating death,  bottomless NEED, immortal DESIRE, masquerading as divine PUNISHMENT for SIN and broken HOWLS mingle with bitter SOBS as the cycle begins AGAIN in the miserable give and TAKE of enemies who are not enemies, allies who can never be allies, united only in our contempt for what we DON’T want make it STOP PLEASE we DON’T want this make it STOP

and we understand too late that we hoped in vain ONCE MORE.

[turncloakhq]

YOU’RE INVITED —

Within the thick walls of Maegor’s Holdfast, the Queen’s Ballroom stood richly appointed and awaiting the night’s guests. In an effort to honor and welcome those given sanctuary as they all prepared for the upcoming war, Queen Cersei Lannister and her court arranged a party befitting of such esteemed visitors. It would mark the first occasion since the presentation of the Wight that members of the most notable families of Westeros and nobility had gathered in one location. The evening’s business promised to be less openly wretched than their last meeting. It would provide a unique opportunity to meet and mingle for people whose paths may have otherwise crossed on the battlefield.

Not since Renly Baratheon was at court had the Red Keep seen a true masquerade ball. The lion and stag of House Lannister and House Baratheon adorned the walls - symbols for the Queen acknowledged by the armistice and the King soon to come. While the common people of the Seven Kingdoms prepared themselves for the approaching Winter, those possessing and seeking power would spend the evening in silks and ornate masks. But even the sumptuous carpets, glittering candles, and tables heavy with rich foods could not fully conceal the dangerous games that played around them.

As the guests entered the ballroom, lively music would greet them. Entertainers and servants were scattered about the room, offering everything from the finest Dornish wine to the latest, most popular songs shared amongst bards. At a glance, it was a fine affair.

Though the Queen’s fête was set to last only a single evening, events and conversations could still haunt Westeros for years to come.

Welcome to the Royal Masquerade.

ADMIN NOTE: You are encouraged to post inspo for the event! This incudes character outfits, or anything else to show off your character’s aesthetic. We are so excited to see what you come up with! 

The event will run JUNE 10TH, 12PM EST to JUNE 24TH, 12PM EST. Please make sure you are tracking and using the “TURNCLOAKMASQUERADE” and “TURNCLOAKEVENT” tags for event posts and are answering open starters in addition to posting your own! Please do not start non-event threads during this time without permission from the admins. Admins reserve the right to accept character applications at any time during the event rather than just during the typically scheduled two days a week. Keep an eye out for plot drops!

[apprenticevida]

Nuestra Alcoba Azul 🍋🔞

Word Count: 2,575 sorry I got carried away with this one

Pairings: Jinana/Vida

Synopsis: tear the bitch apart With renewed confidence Vida gets a taste of what the masquerade is all about

Notes: Day 3 of @midsummer-masquerade Day 3: Denial, Impact Play, some Worship and Collars

Thank you @the-iron-orchid for letting me work with Jinana! I hope I did hir justice.

Alcoba Azul by Lila Downs

Warnings: SPICY LEMON. Impact play, voyeurism, Praise and Punishment, BDSM, biting, masturbation, cunnilingus, orgasm denial/control, squirting, humiliation, subspace, nipple play, manual sex/no insertion

After bidding their lovers farewell and good luck, Vida saunters out of the room. With a renewed confidence in their sense of self and sensuality, they’re ready to experience everything the Masquerade has to offer.

As the witch wanders through the halls they hear cries of ecstasy from various rooms. Some are behind closed doors, others open to allow guests to join. Every once in a while they pass by a room with a shimmering barrier in the doorway; it’s meant to allow voyeurs to enjoy the show while allowing the performers the security of knowing they won’t be interrupted, a friendly guest informs them as Vida sips from a glass of vodka.

When they eventually find the grand ballroom, Vida discovers it’s been transformed into a large aftercare playroom. Plush beds with comforting blankets are spread out on the floor; massage oils, balms, and decanters of water are readily available on numerous low tables throughout the room.

They make a mental note to stop by before the end of the night.

Continuing their exploration brings them to a hallway full of “vendor” tables. No coins are being exchanged: the invitation explicitly stated that any toys or accessories procured were The Countess’s gifts to attendees.

A leatherworker’s wares catch their eye. Harnesses, leashes, and collars all colors of the rainbow are on display. With the help of the proprietor, they find a collar that fits snug against their throat. The band is black with intricate swirls and spirals carved into the leather with a gold O-ring at the center. Committing the name of the woman’s shop to memory (Rhett’s Wares), Vida promises to visit on their next trip to the market.

With the collar they announce their submissive inclinations to potential playmates. It’s thrilling to feel eyes roving over their figure and for now Vida is content with only being seen.

When a peacock-haired figure catches their eye Vida decides they’re ready for more.

Despite hir petite figure the mage radiates power and confidence. There’s something about hir that has ensorcelled Vida. They down the rest of their drink before walking over.

S/he’s lounging on a chaise opposite Nadia, who, as luck would have it, has excused herself to visit other revelers.

While they’re generally thrilled to please multiple dominants, seems a little too much too soon.

“Hello, I’m Vida.” The witch waves shyly when they’ve approached the unfamiliar mage.

The figure elegantly extends a delicate henna-laced hand

“Jinana,” s/he responds in a warm, husky tone. “A pleasure.” S/he eyes Vida top and down, evaluating them.

Vida takes hir hand and brushes their lips against hir knuckles.

“You’re… really beautiful.” Vida breathes against the lilac-scented skin. “Would you like to play with me?”

“Hmmm, that depends, Vida.” S/he rolls their name on hir tongue like a piece of candy. “What do you want to play?”

—————

It doesn’t take long to negotiate the scene and its boundaries. Surprisingly, there’s little they disagree on and their hard limits are the same.

Jinana leads Vida to a cobalt room decked with sapphire blue drapery and pristine white furniture.

“There’s a bath in the back, go freshen up and I’ll sort things out here.” S/he orders, gesturing to a folding screen that separates the spare room and alcove hiding the bath.

Vida’s thankful for the simplicity of their costume: once the clincher is unlaced they easily slide out of the crimson robe.

Their bath is diligent, if rushed. They don’t want to keep Jinana waiting, but s/he made hir preference for a bathed partner clear. They find a vial of vanilla oils to massage in when they’re dry and dress in a flowing white bathrobe before they return to their playmate.

There is a sawhorse in front of the door and two white chairs in the center of the midnight blue carpet. Jinana is seated in one with an end table with toys and vials next to hir. S/he gestures with an elegant hand for Vida to sit across from hir.

“Before we get started, priya, are you sure about the door?”

Vida sits in the chair, glancing at the closed door behind Jinana.

“Yes, ser. I’m sure.”

A smile plays on Jinana’s lips.

“As you wish.”

A flick of hir wrist and the door swings open, a shimmering barrier forming to separate the room and the hall.

…to allow voyeurs to enjoy the show while allowing the performers the security of knowing they won’t be interrupted…

“Now Vida” Jinana crosses one toned leg over the other. “How do you like to play?”

“Well, usually—”

“Ah-ah!” S/he chides, wagging one manicured finger towards hir companion. “Show, don’t tell.”

Vida feels their face flush as a shiver runs up their back. This was going to be a fun experience.

Vida catches their lower lip between their teeth as they nod in understanding. They spread their legs slowly, knowing the angle of the chair means Jinana’s view will be shared with any onlookers.

First they trail a few fingers down the side of their face and neck. When their hand meets the robe’s neckline they gently glide the silk away from their chest. A sensitive nipple pebbles under the fabric and hardens when it meets the cool air. With one hand they tweak and pull the nub while the other hand repeats the dance on the opposite side. When their breathing gets harder to control the shrug of the robe entirely.

With heavy lidded eyes they meet Jinana’s gaze, hir chin resting on one hand. The other holds a riding crop in an almost listless manner. There’s maybe a meter between the magic users; Vida can clearly see the fire burning in Jinana’s eyes behind hir silver filigree mask

Upping the ante, Vida let’s one hand stroke down their belly and to their already dripping cunt. It’s impossible for them to hold back a moan when one cold finger slides against their hard and swollen clit.

“Remember priya, no coming without permission.” Jinana’s voice is low and hir eyes dark.

“Yesser,” Vida slurs. Something about hir energy makes Vida want to bend to hir every command.

For a while the only noise in the room is the slick sound of the witch’s ministrations, punctuated by moans and gasps as they try to keep a steady rhythm.

By now a few guests have gathered by the door. Vida can hear the susurrus of conversation, but either the partygoers are too far away or Vida is too far gone to make it out.

The chair beneath then begins to creak as their hips buck against their hand. Their breathing comes quicker now. They’re close so close and they begin to lose their sense of control and

“Stop.”

Vida freezes with a gasp. Their cunt clenches in anticipation, as if to hold on to the edge of their release. Jinana stands from hir chair and taps the riding crop against hir free hand. The leather makes a satisfying thwack against the henna flower on hir palm.

“On your knees, priya.”

In the foggy subspace it takes a moment too long for hir words to register. Vida feels a hand push them from the chair to kneel in front of Jinana. Their head jerks around in an attempt to find an intruder but the room is empty behind them. Jinana taps their cheek with the crop and uses the leather implement to make them face hir.

S/he makes a tutting noise with her tongue in disapproval. “I thought you were going to behave. Although,” s/he lets the crop graze against their neck. “It seems someone else has had to call on your attention before.” They press the tag of the crop against the bruises on their neck and their eyes flutter shut at the pleasure-pain.

“Still, you did give a riveting performance. Would you like a reward, sweetling?”

Vida is dazed and their eyes won’t focus, but they innately know hir question needs an answer.

“Oh, yes please, ser. I’ll take whatever you think I deserve.”

For a moment Jinana is reminded of hir Ilya. They’re both very pretty when they’re on their knees begging in adoration. S/he files the thought away for later as s/he removes Vida’s mask.

Now, however, s/he lifts one foot into the chair behind Vida and pulls the front off hir dress aside.

“Well then?” S/he quirks a brow at hir submissive.

Vida’s eyes jump between the sights before and above them. They’re trying desperately to form the question in their mind.

“May I please touch you? With my hands I mean?”

Jinana smirks as s/he responds. “For now. Until I decide otherwise.”

Vida adjusts their position so Jinana’s thigh rests on their shoulder. They rest one hand on top of hir leg and the other on hir opposite hip. At first Vida wets their lips and leans their head forward before they stop. An idea pops into their hazy mind. They turn towards the leg on their shoulder and begin to trail soft kisses up Jinana’s thigh, squeezing hir leg every so often.

Their partner hums approval and threads hir fingers through Vida’s hair. Hir nails card through their silky curls; a low moan rumbles in Vida’s throat and into Jinana’s soft flesh.

The soft kisses on Jinana’s leg turn to kitten licks and then open-mouthed kisses until they slowly reach the apex of hir thigh. They take one more adoring glance at the mage before dragging the flat of their tongue along hir slit.

The smell of lilac mingled with Jinana’s musk makes a heady combination. Vida almost feels drunk off of their lust. As they lap at hir sex they moan into hir, fingers pressing into Jinana to anchor themself. They swirl the tip of their tongue against hir clit before gently sucking.

Jinana lets out a groan of pleasure and tightens hir grip to guide Vida to the right spot. S/he gives gentle praise when Vida begins to work their mouth against her. The hand Vida placed on Jinana’s hip slowly moves higher. They caress hir side, hir stomach, hir sternum before brushing their fingertips against a nipple.

With a gasp Jinana tugs Vida’s head away with one hand and snatches their wrist with the other.

“That,” s/he sighs. “Is cheating.”

Vida’s eyes go wide. Gripped as they are, they're at hir mercy. “Are you going to punish me, ser?” Their voice is thick with arousal and hope.

“Cheating does get punished.” S/he jerks hir head at the sawhorse and releases Vida. “Go.”

Still on their knees, Vida glances at the wooden structure. They swallow. “Which way would you have me face, ser?”

“Away from the door.”

Vida didn’t realize they could get any wetter than they were. Their legs are slick with their own lubricant as they stand and walk to the carpentry table. The table is at a height where they have to keep their feet spread wide when they bend over. Their face is red with embarrassment and it’s only made worse when they can’t keep their cunt from twitching from need and excitement.

“Five for cheaters. Count aloud,” is the only warning Jinana gives before the crop makes contact across the swell of their ass.

“One!” They shout at the floor.

The next strike is focused on one cheek.

“Two!” Their brow furrows.

The third lands on the other side.

“Th-three!” Vida can feel tears well up in their eyes. They have to rest their head against their forearms.

There’s a pause. A small warm hand strokes up their back and Vida’s head jolts upward.

“Do you need a break?” Jinana’s voice is as soothing as hir caress.

After a breath Vida shakes their head.

“I-I can take two more, ser.” They swallow and reposition themselves, pushing their ass out farther and widening their stance.

Jinana grins in amusement before getting back to work.

The fourth strike is at the top of their thighs, just enough to make a satisfying sound without stinging.

“Four!” Vida cries out loud and clear.

The final blow lands on their sex, the wet sound echoes in their mind.

“Five!” Vida’s voice is somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Their punishment is over, but neither of them have come yet.

“Very good, priya. You’ve done so well!” There’s genuine joy in Jinana’s voice and Vida’s heart swells. The shorter magician helps straighten the pliant Vida up and turns them to face the door.

Without their mask Vida somehow feels more vulnerable than they did when fully displaying their sex.

“You haven’t come yet, have you?” Jinana’s voice is almost taunting as Vida shakes their head in response.

“I’ll need to fix that. Sit down.” S/he summons a cushion onto the sawhorse and with one hand pressing on their shoulder guides them to sit. S/he walks behind Vida and begins to stroke one warm hand along their neck.

They already feel their eyes lid in pleasure as Jinana demonstrates how attentive s/he’s been. Hir hands accurately mimic Vida’s earlier actions. Jinana begins to add to the bite marks on their neck, hir small teeth indenting into their soft skin.

By the time hir hand reaches their small bundle of nerves Vida is a mess. They buck into hir fingers, push back into hir bites, pull away from hir fingers pinching their nipples. Their cries and moans of ecstasy are the only sounds they know how to make.

They’re coiled tighter than a spring, but Jinana hasn’t given permission yet. Cruel, lovely Jinana won’t talk with hir mouth full.

Not yet can’t yet so close so close please please please ser

“Come for me, Vida.”

Their orgasm crashes over them, toes curling as they scream. Legs splayed and thighs tighten as their hips chase the sensation. They feel the familiar sensation of their ejaculate release and have to hide their face in their hands in humiliation.

By the time they finish they’re trembling and Jinana holds them through their aftershocks. They don’t uncover their face until they hear the door close. Vida’s still beet red and their body feels overwhelmed and tender.

“How are you feeling?” Jinana asks as s/he strokes their hair.

“W-“ Vida takes a shaky breath. “Was I okay?”

“Oh you sweet thing!” Jinana holds them to hir chest. “You were lovely. But how are you feeling now?”

It takes time for Vida to self-process.

“Like I’ve been,” they make a clawing motion at their chest. “It’s like you tore everything out, but in the most perfect way. Everything feels… lighter? I guess? I feel… amazing.” They sigh.

“Do you need anything?”

Vida winces when they adjust their position. “A salve, I think.”

“I’m sure there’s something here. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

—————

After another bath and talking through the scene again with Jinana they put their costume and mask back on and leave the room. Any of their onlookers have gone to watch or join other scenes. Vida breathes a sigh of relief and says goodbye to Jinana.

Even with the salve Jinana applied, Vida needs a break. When they arrive at the ballroom they take an empty futon and sip water. Julian, sporting more marks than before, finds them here. Taking a seat next to them he strokes their leg and his face dons his incorrigible smirk.

“So… I didn’t know you knew Jinana.”

[veneficium-of-thorns]

ℂ𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝔽𝕠𝕣 | 𝕔𝕟𝕕𝕝𝕔𝕤𝕤

@cndlcss​ requested:              

👺 - for a starter where our muses run into each other at a masquerade. (Elaine)

Elias had  forced his  antisocial-self  to attend. 

It was not a favored past time, large galas with swarms of beings. He was quite the introverted creature and preferred a level of aloofness. 

Fae, fairy's and various magical creatures mingled together, peppered in with a few humans that were privy to witness such a festivity. Not that one could tell, for it was a masquerade party. Elaborately decorated masks obscured identities and left one with a dash of mystery. Save for Elias, he opted to not even try to conceal his visage -for once. It was enough that he’d donned a exquisitely crafted suit that had been tailored to fit him perfectly, broad, muscular shoulders and all. And truth be told, he looked rather dashing. 

Leave it to him to forego a mask at a masquerade party, whereas he normally hid his bony-skull behind the cover of his red veil. But, not tonight. How ironic, yes? 

It was the Mages own prerogative, and sometimes he simply marched to a different beat, for better or worse.

Revelry, smiles and glee flowed just as easily as the deep berried wines being served. Gaiety, laughter, dancing and socializing with ones best manners in mind, filled the grand rooms corridors. There was no expense spared, everything glittered, everything sparkled. It was a sight to be sure. Golden sashes decorated barristers and tendrils of silver threads seemed to be wrapped about most surfaces. Lush bouquets of flowers tempted the senses and large structures of crystals collected for display, beckoned ones gaze. To top it off, exquisite glass chandelier's twinkled above head, casting a luminescent glow down upon the crowds that one could describe as magical. A spell, in of itself. 

   But Elias, hit his tipping point. 

He felt strange, like he needed fresh air-? The Mage made a swift legged beeline to exit the party, out onto a balcony. He need space, he needed lessened levels of noise, he needed to not feel this stifling emotion. Therefore he slipped through the crowds like a liquid shadow, no one paying him much mind as he weaved around them and passed by, that is until he ran right smack into someone. 

“ Excuse me, my apologies! “ He spat out while simultaneously reaching a large, gloved hand out to grab ahold of a dainty wrist. The Mage Of Thorns had always been like a brick wall, statuesque and solid. Of which meant the other individual nearly got knocked over. 

“ Are you ok? “

[hollywoodfamerp]

GET THOSE MASKS READY!

There are a few nights which are more magical than New Year’s Eve in New York City. With festive parties, dinners, and the opportunity to attend one of the biggest New Year’s Eve events to end all events: THE BALL DROP LIVE IN TIMES SQUARE.

To mark the end of 2020 and celebrate the year that is approaching, Hollywood Fame is throwing our annual New Years Eve party! Join us as we toast off the new year and celebrate the start of 2021. Themed out to be the ultimate masquerade party! With champagne waterfalls, confetti, fireworks, dancing on tables, and all the glitz and glam you can possibly imagine!

Hosted in an enclosed private rooftop of one of New York’s most magnificent buildings right over Time Square: The St. Cloud Rooftop Bar inside of the world famous Knickerbocker Hotel. You will get the best view to watch the ball drop, followed by a lot of dancing, drinking, and some mingling. You can’t beat the view of fireworks bursting above the Manhattan skyline, boogie to tunes spun by the DJ as you sip drinks from the premium open bar, and who knows - you may even find your new years kiss! All guests will also be given luxury hotel suites with full accommodations should you need to spend the night ;)

The party will take place on December 31st and carry through until the new year January 1st, 2021! Feel free to start your threads whenever you want on the 31st and/or 1st (or even before if you like to preplan), there are no time constraints so all timezones can participate. However, the ball will drop on midnight EST. This event is NOT MANDATORY.

If you wish for your characters to attend, feel free to post your celebrities’ attires using the tag:

#HFRPNYEPARTY21

Please like this notice so we know you’re all aware :)