#((i don't want them to be anywhere near canon in the show))

[olderthannetfic]

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/746553097204203521/the-fandom-hates-women-response-to-lack-of-ff

The "fandom hates women" part of it comes from the fact that fandom as an entity just doesn't watch the kind of media that draws femslash, even if it ticks all of the boxes of things those very same people say they like. There are so many times I've watched a show that I've seen mega-popular Tumblr posts wishing existed, and then the fandom is so, so small comparatively and often in general. There have been superheroes, vampire/supernatural shows, fantasy shows, movies, books, the list goes on, that feel like they were generated out of Tumblr's desires for ideal fandom media, and everyone knows they're never going to attract anywhere near the same attention for fandom and fanworks because the common denominator just tends to be that if there isn't a full ensemble of attractive men to ship either with each other or with the women, fandom's not interested.

So it's not about prioritizing women in that sense, it's about people witnessing hypocrisy over and over again the second a show doesn't have a mostly-male ensemble. The people who are in these fandoms are frustrated that good faith attempts to get people interested are met with every excuse in the book that all eventually boils down to "I don't like watching stuff with women in it as much as I like watching stuff with men in it." And if that's how people feel about it... sometimes the conclusions are going to turn into the more uncharitable take of "fandom hates women."

--

Maybe, but whenever I see a "fandom hates women" reblog of my stuff, one or two reblogs further down the chain I get an overt TERF. I just had to go block several people today, in fact.

The first person to reblog with a comment like that is usually subtle, but their friends and friends of friends are not. The rhetoric that very quickly starts is the fandom equivalent of that "All the butches are becoming trans men! We're losing lesbians!" stuff.

Here's the thing: I've been in ten billion fandoms that were so awesome and fit fandom's supposed tastes to a T and yet no amount of promoting them could get anyone to try the canon. This goes for canons that are all men or all white men or all majority ethnicity men or whatever else.

The default state of media is to not engender a big fic fandom.

I agree that the rare outliers mostly follow certain patterns, but we extrapolate too far when we say that a lack of those patterns is why a fandom is small.

A fandom is small because that's the near-universal default.

--

Yes, a small slice of fandom consists of guilt-ridden queer fujoshi who say they want more f/f but don't make much of a move to make that happen. I tend to run into that a lot because of my own tastes and having friends who share those tastes.

Far more of fandom is people talking generally about how representation matters without saying they would personally join these fandoms if they existed.

Neither group is large enough to be the real reason some woman-heavy canon fails to take off to HP levels.

The real reason is not hypocrisy but the fact that most things don't take off like that. Most things without massive, massive audiences especially don't take off like that. And the very few things that do are flukes and don't actually predict that another similar thing will take off in the future.

--

Go to AO3's tag search. Search for all canonical fandom tags. Sort by uses and descending order.

Right now, I get 64,390 tags.

The first page, 50 tags, goes from HP with 497,845 works to the Thor movies with 59,266 works. By page 6, we're below 10 thousand works.

By the end of page 10, we're down to Labyrinth with 3,906.

Somewhere in the top 500 AO3 fandom tags (many of which are just franchise metatags for each other), we go all the way from megafandoms to medium size and down to relatively modest ones.

That's not a lot of room for a big f/f-heavy fandom given the trends in mainstream media and that mainstream media is where most really big fandoms come from.

--

I also notice that you're conflating a lack of desire to watch something that's primarily about women with a lack of desire to watch something that includes women.

There are tons of fans who want something more like The Mummy with a leading man and leading woman they love.

Granted, that's not me and that's not a lot of my fujoshi/slasher audience, but it's extraordinarily common. I know plenty of people who don't like canons that are only dudes, but since they also don't like canons that are only ladies and they don't ship f/f, this gets spun into "fandom hates women".

--

Let me be clear:

Conflating "lesbians" and "women" is a radfem position.

[cosmiiwrites]

see u wanted adam requests so here i am!!

i’m utterly obsessed with this man and i barely see any fanfics with him showing his clingy side ( cus we all know he would be clingy as shit ) i was wondering if u could write something about his clingy side, maybe even him opening up about how he’s insecure cus two of his wives left him???? and then reader assured him that they wouldn’t leave him like they did

- 💌 anon

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ clingy

⁺˚⋆｡°✩ adam x gn!reader ✩°｡⋆˚⁺

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ summary: in which adam shows his clingy side cw: gn!reader, fluff, comfort, cussing a/n: AAA clingy adam canon!! also if you sent in a request im probably working on it rn adam adored you, you knew that. everyone did. and i mean EVERYONE. wherever you went, he was never far behind. he hates having to see you go somewhere without him, how anything could happen to you, and how he wouldnt be able to be there. so when adam is with you, he needs to have his hands on you all the time. whether it be holding your hand, holding your waist, it didnt matter. as long as he was near you. not to mention how he would glare at everyone who tried to start a conversation with you, driving them away and probably making them create a mental note to never talk to you again. safe to say this man was clingy as hell. dont get me wrong, you arent complaining. in fact, you loved how clingy adam was. it was just confirmation that he wasnt going anywhere. however, you had to admit you were a bit curious. but every time you'd try mentioning how he was so clingy, he'd quickly change the topic. huh. unfortunately for adam, you weren't one to give up easily. you'd pry and pry until one day, he finally caved. "ugh, jesus, fine! i'll tell you, just for the sake of you shutting the fuck up.” adam groaned.

“back in eden, that bastard lucifer had stolen both of my wives, not like you don't know the story…” adam’s voice trailed off, but his bravado quickly returned after clearing his throat. “it fucked me up, real bad.” he admitted. your chest ached with guilt, maybe you shouldnt have brought up the subject.

“and everytime you’re not around me, i—i start to worry that maybe, someone like him would take you from me. or heaven forbid, the bastard himself.” adam looked away in embarrassment, large wings hovering in an attempt to cover himself.

oh. you took a second to acknowledge that the arrogant, cocky, egomaniac adam just admitted an insecurity of his.

“oh, adam,” you sat next to him, gently tugging at his wing to reveal his face. “it’s fuckin’ stupid, i know.” the yellow eyes of his mask looked down in shame.

you hated his mask, it hid his face, the face you loved so dearly. when met with no resistance, you removed adam’s mask, your gaze meeting with dark golden eyes.

“i’d never leave you,” you cooed gently, one hand running through his hair, the other cupping his face. adam’s face tilted to where you placed your hand, leaning into your touch. “i wouldn’t even think about it. i love you, adam.” he pulled you into his lap, where you would hug him tightly. adam sighed contentedly, kissing your forehead.

“i love you more.”

#hazbin hotel x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel #adam hazbin #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel alastor #charlie morningstar #emily hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel fluff #fluff #i need sleep

[desiredcaramellatte]

Oh ehh hello! I hope I don't bother, but may I request Pitaya Dragon dating hcs?? Please and thank you! ^^

Hello!!

I’m happy we got Pitaya in kingdom but, tbh, I’m just waiting for Ananas

Imagine Longan in kingdom too 👀👀

Don’t know how they would fit well into the story though hhh

Also Pitaya in disguise I’m sorry mmm

Pitaya Dragon x reader

Romantic

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ They purr. It’s canon. They purred. Yes, the dragons are all just giant cats in disguise. Rub behind the little strands of their hair on the sides of their face, behind their ears, on the curve of their back, or under their jaw and they will be a mess of purrs.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Of all the dragons, Pitaya is the most vocal and willing to show their affection and/or accept yours. They like to commonly head but you or push against you. They do so lightly, but with them being a dragon and their ‘lightly’ being not-so-light in cookie terms, this can result in you falling over if you’re not paying attention, or if they bump you too roughly. They tend to bump you against you neck and shoulders, but they’ve done so to your side, back, and stomach before.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ They hATE water. Being a dragon based on fire and all, water is the Pitaya Dragon’s natural enemy. They enjoy it in little amounts, like drinking a bottle of water or combing water through their hair, but they do NOT like baths or going to the ocean or any type of river. Just bodies of water big enough to encapsulate them almost whole. They will accept taking hot showers, though. The bathroom is practically a sauna once they’re finished with it.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Affections aside from head butting you like the absolute cat they are also include taking you for piggyback rides in either of their forms. If it’s on the ground they’ll mostly sticking to their reserved form, but if they want to fly with you on their back or terrify the locals, they’ll swap to their dragon form. If you ever do fall off of them, they are quick to catch you. If they were close to the ground when you fell and they could catch you, expect them to whole Maleficent-dive under you and catch you with their entire body. They’ll be a little sore from hitting the ground harshly, but their scales are almost as hard as their head. They’re mostly worried about if you’re alright.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ If you wanted to have some sort of saddle or rope or handle for you to hang onto during flights with them in their dragon form, they wouldn’t be against it. So long as it’s removable and doesn’t hinder their flying ability and keeps you safe, then go ahead. Sometimes they might fly with you in their talons (they have beans. Giant dragon beans. Squish the giant beans) if you don’t feel like being on the back or just need a quick transportation, as well.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Their scales are VERY warm. This makes for very good cuddles whenever it’s cold. You don’t even need a blanket by his point- their wings are wide enough to cover whatever part of you isn’t already by their clinginess during snuggle time.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ They love getting into random fights with just about anything. Dragons, people, dogs, cats, furniture. You name it, they probably have a story about sparring with it. Mr. Sprinkles has learned not to come anywhere near Pitaya.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ This dragon is a big tease as well! They’ll tease you on small things you like and do, all in good fun. They can get a little overboard, but their teasing usually ends in either a good laugh or a small head but from them, to show they are just being a little nuisance to you and they don’t mean anything they say.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ The furniture is not safe around them. Either by accident or on purpose, you go through a couch every month and a bed every two. Someone please save the furniture, they don’t deserve this.

#cookie run x reader #cookie run #cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie run kingdom #crk #crk x reader #cookie run oven break #cookie run oven break x reader #crob #crob x reader #requests open #pitaya #pitaya dragon #pitaya dragon x reader #pitaya x reader #theyre a cat your honor #much floof #omn

[adonisbeloveds]

Sun and Moondrop taking care of a child reader

-Reader: no pronouns used + no gender implied -It/they for Sun and Moon

Requested: No/Yes

Warnings: None Disclamer: Characters personality, looks, ect may be different from canon due to either hc or author has just forgotten.

A/N: This is my first writting so I'm sorry if it isn't that good. All banners are made by me (the drawings and stuff are NOT mine, credits to the ones who drew them i just mixed them together and made banners)

^ Made by me

-☼ When you first walked in with your caregiver Sun was just doing their job, take the kid from their parents, get the kid checked in, than entertain them until naptime, after you said bye to your caregiver Sun took you into the sea of loud, messy and running children. -☼ You didn't really know what to do when Sun left you alone to go help other kids, so you just went off to play with the toys and be in your own little world, though not acting like the other kids around you, where still a kid, a kid who needed attention and attention was what you where going to have! -☼ Now having children who don't like playing, loud noises, and just can't handle overwhelming places where not uncommon for Sun, so it gave you your space but made sure to check up on you every once and a while, making sure your eating when its snack time, making sure you haven't left the daycare, asking if you wanted to join in with the other kids, ect. Sun was watching over the kids while they ate, it counted all the kids but found one missing, they looked around but couldn't see you anywhere near the eating tables, so they started looking around any corners or places you might be when it found you huddled in a small-ish place with blankets and pillows, you seemed tired and floating in and out of consciousness. "Oh little sunbeam, tired already?" Sun asked as they carefully picked you up and huddled you close in their arms and pulling the blanket over you "it is about naptime isn't it my little sunbeam" Sun said after booping your nose and walking back to the children to tell them its naptime.

^ Made by me

-☾ After Sun turned the lights off and all the children went to their sleeping bags Moon looked down and saw you half asleep in their arms, smiling softly it walked towards where the children where sleeping and sat down humming a small lullaby while holding you close to their lap. -☾ If you are one to have nightmares often or bad nightmares they will slowly wake you up and just softly reasure you that your safe in its arms, that no one and nothing can hurt you while they are here.

Moon was keeping a eye on all the children in a protective manner, being a almost second parent to most of the kids they took the role seriously, nothing was going to happen to you or the others. It felt movement in its arms and when it looked down and saw you looking up at them with grabby hands it softly smiled and held you so you where sitting on its leg. "Whats wrong little star? shouldn't a little star like you be sleeping?" Moon asks softly as to not wake up the other children. You looked up at them and whispered "puppet!" at first it took Moon a second before they smiled and patted your head "a puppet show? well if my little star wishes who am I to say no" Moon than placed you on the floor and went to get a flashflight. After a while other kids woke up to the puppet show while you sat in their lap and watched with amazment at the puppet show. Soon all the kids woke up, some watching the show and others playing around where Moon can see them, after a while the puppet show finished and Moon asked you to sit still while it goes to grab something and to put the flashlight back. When it came back it knelt down and showed two plushies, one of them and the other of Sun "Sun and I thought you would like them, so whenever your not here you have something to play with and to cuddle with when you sleep" Moon smiled softly as you grabbed the plushies and hugged them "thank!" they patted you on the head and went to turn the lights back on.

#sundrop #fnaf sundrop #fnaf sun #sundrop x y/n #sundrop x reader #sundrop x child reader #moondrop #fnaf moondrop #fnaf moon #security breach #daycare attendant #fnaf sb #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun and moon #moondrop x y/n #moondrop x reader #moondrop x child reader #child reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #gn reader #political #five nights at freddys #male reader #☾★ adonis beloveds ★☽ #☾★ adonis ★☽

[llamagoddessofficial]

Hi hello how are you today?

I wanted to ask of you some of you're favourite little things about Skull over the years. Been going through a rough patch these last two weeks and I like Skull the best (a thing for big boy monsters lol) and I'd like to know more about him, if that's alright of course

If you cannot, that's alright, really, don't worry about it

Thank you in advance! ^^

I do love my Skullyboy. Here's a few of my personal favourite things/headcanons about him. Though I don't know if it counts as a 'headcanon' if I'm his creator- technically it's just canon, lol

Skull's method of flirting is staring from afar, not talking at all, and hoping someone else introduces the two of you.

I just really love how he looks like this big, frightening monster, huge and threatening and imposing- but underneath it all, he's an easily flustered mess when in love. It's very easy to misinterpret his behaviour as aggression or dismissal, because he tends to clam up and stare when he's overwhelmed by feelings... but he's a huge softie who's just got a scary shell.

Once you learn to interpret his behaviour and speak his language, you realise this is a deeply loving and sensitive monster.

... His other method of flirting is cooking you a meal, then watching you eat it. His food is definitely delicious but it's hard to not eat it when he watches like that. He loves cooking, which is awesome for me personally, because I really don't like cooking lol

Since he really likes hair, not only would he be great at head massages, he'd also be jumping at any chance to give you one. Anytime your head is near him his claws itch to touch you.

If Skull likes you, he likes listening to you. Since he struggles so much with speech, having a 'conversation' can feel like a constant exhausting uphill struggle- he likes when you go on big long rambles, he can just relax, enjoying the sound of your voice and the way your mouth looks when it moves.

big claws and teeth big claws and teeth big claws and teeth big claws and teeth big claws and teeth big claws and teeth big claws and teeth bi

Scary dog privileges. You'll never be scared walking at night. I mean.. you'll never be scared walking anywhere.

Imagine some fuckin idiot breaks into your home- Skull just has to look at them and they'll leave screaming

He's very cuddly and affectionate, and he doesn't disguise how he feels about you. Why would he? The feelings are good, so why would he try to stop them in any way? He's done enough suffering. He might get struck with some shyness, but once he's certain his presence is welcome he always wants to be touching somehow, cuddling and kissing.

He'd be an excellent hiking partner, because as soon as you're tired, he'll gladly carry you the whole way.

Skull will go out & about with you, if you want to, but his favourite place is in bed together and that's always where he'd rather be. He's a homebird. Blankets, plants, TV shows and some pets... that's his ideal life.

#llamagines #skull: ....................... [crushes cup in his hand] #pap: HUMAN!! MY BROTHER JUST SAID HE HAS A CRUSH ON YOU!! #mc: ????? he spoke?????

[justagalwhowrites]

Lavender - Ch. 41

You, Joel and Ellie make it to the University of Eastern Colorado but you find things you don't expect. A continuation of Lavender ch. 1-40 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon typical violence. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only.

Length: 5.1K

“Don’t rely so much on the reins,” you said, your front pressed to Joel’s back, hands on his waist. “Use your legs and weight to guide her…” 

“Like squeezing?” Ellie asked, frowning. 

“Kind of,” you said. “So if you want to go right, shift your weight right a bit and press your left leg into the horse. Use the reins, too, but you shouldn’t be pulling so much as just guiding her…” 

Ellie nodded and you watched her body shift slightly, taking the horse around in a slow circle. 

“Don’t forget to keep your legs turned inward,” you said. “It’s real easy to let your knees go out, it’s more comfortable, but you’ll have better control if you keep them turned in.” 

“Right,” she said. “I think I got it?” 

“You’re looking good,” you smiled. She smiled back, looking pleased. 

“Never thought I’d be riding a fucking horse,” she said. “This is so cool…” 

“Yeah, not something I ever thought I’d get to do again either,” you rested your cheek in the middle of Joel’s back. He was warm, comfortable. You wrapped your arms around him a little tighter. 

“How’d you learn how to do it?” Ellie asked. “Was it in Texas with Joel?” 

She drew out his name, teasing him. Joel scoffed a bit. 

“She was a better rider than me when she came to Texas,” he said. “Showed me up once on a trail ride, thought I was gonna make myself look real good and it turns out she had to save my ass because I wasn’t payin’ close enough attention…” 

“No way!” Ellie laughed. “What happened?” 

“To be clear,” Joel said. “I’d have handled it just fine if I wasn’t tryin’ to pay attention to her because I didn’t know that she knew what she was doing…” 

“Oh sure,” Ellie nodded, looking skeptical. “So what happened?” 

“It was a trail that hadn’t been used yet that season,” he said. “Just out in the woods near a ranch that belonged to a friend of Tommy’s. I was leading, looking back to try to tell her somethin’ and my horse spotted a snake on the trail, freaked the fuck out, tried to throw me…” 

“Oh shit!” Ellie’s brows went up. “So what’d you do?” 

“Well I saw Joel lost the reins but the horse kept rearing back and trying to throw him,” you said. “So I took mine alongside his and got the reins and got it back down before he got tossed. It’s really not that crazy…” 

“How’d you know how to do that?” She asked. 

“I grew up riding,” you said. “My grandmother was friends with the people who lived next door and they raised horses. They were older, their grandkids lived an hour away and they didn’t get to see them much, so they liked having me around. I rode all the time from when I was about two until I left for college.”

“Well shit,” Ellie nodded. “I’ll just ride with you when things look bad.” 

“You might want Joel more,” you shrugged. “I’ve never tried to ride and shoot at the same time and I’m not a great shot, anyway.” 

“Good point,” she said. “Guess we’ll just all have to stick together then.” 

“Crud,” you sighed. “Such a disappointment..” 

Joel laughed once. 

The three of you had been riding south for more than two days now and it had been almost too easy. You hadn’t seen a single raider or infected anywhere. It’s part of why it had taken you so long to put Ellie on a horse on her own. You didn’t trust the land around you to not suddenly swell with enemies and try to swallow her. With Joel, she’d be protected. With you, you could escape quickly. On her own was too dangerous. 

But now, things felt more secure. You were so far from Jackson and any other sign of civilization that you knew there was almost no chance of infected. Raiders would be pretty useless out here, too - there was nothing to raid. You felt safe letting Ellie ride on her own for a bit. 

“Should rest the horses soon,” Joel said. “Keep an eye out for a good place to stop for the night…” 

Because the road had been easy, you’d made quick progress. Tommy had told you it would take a week to get there but you were on track to make it in just five days. 

You certainly weren’t arguing. You had no idea what was waiting for you at the university. How long you’d be stuck there. Maybe there were researchers there who were far better trained than you - people who went to actual medical school instead of learning at the hands of a military doctor because there was no more medical school to go to. Maybe the Fireflies had found someone from the CDC or the NIH, someone whose job it had been to deal with infectious disease. 

If that were the case, you had your notes. You could pass them off, talk it through with them and rest knowing you’d done what you could. You could go back to Jackson with Ellie and Joel and move into the house across the street from Tommy and Maria. You could take care of the people there as the world healed. You could have a life, be happy. Things that had felt out of reach for almost half your life now. 

If the doctors there were like you - trained to keep people alive but not in how to develop new medications or cure anything new - then you’d have to stay. But only for a while. Joel and Ellie would go back to Jackson and that would be hard but you could figure it out. Being apart for a while would be OK if it meant that you got the world back. You would figure it out from there. 

“OK but I want to use the rifle,” Ellie said as the three of you put some distance between yourselves and the horses to try to catch dinner. Joel sighed. 

“Gonna treat it right?” He asked. 

“Yes,” she rolled her eyes, exasperated. “I’ll be gentle, I’ll love it, act like I’m tryin’ to get it pregnant instead of shoot it…” 

Joel glared at her but slung the gun off his shoulder and handed it to her. 

“Hell yeah,” she smiled. 

The three of you leaned against the remains an old, dilapidated wall looking out into a field. Ellie and Joel were looking out while you faced behind them.

“You’d do well to learn this too,” Joel said, looking at you. 

“I just don’t like killing things,” you winced. 

“You know meat is from dead shit, right?” Ellie said. 

“Yes, thank you for your expertise my dear,” you shook your head and smiled a bit. “Maybe I’ll be vegetarian when we get back to Jackson…” 

“Finally gettin’ to a place where I can grill you a steak and you’re gonna stop eating meat?” Joel shook his head. “Damn shame…” 

“Got one,” Ellie said, lifting the rifle. You covered your ears and she shot. 

“Good job,” Joel said, getting up as you uncovered your ears. “Go get it, we’ll dress it…” 

“Should call it undressing it,” Ellie said, giving him the rifle back. “Undressing it from the inside even….” 

“Good to know we can make her pull the guts out of the turkey at Thanksgiving,” you said, Joel offering you a hand up. You took it. “Give you a break from the job.” 

“The fact that you’ll cut me open, pull out a bullet and stitch me up with no problem but gutting an animal is where you draw the line will always amaze me,” he shook his head a little. 

“Wasn’t exactly thrilled to fish a bullet out of you either, for the record,” you leaned your head on his shoulder and you watched as Ellie walked back toward you, rabbit held high by its hind legs. “She’s a lot like you, you know.” 

He sighed. 

“Yeah,” he said, voice heavy. “Yeah, I know.” 

You glanced up at him. 

“I like it,” you said. 

He scoffed a bit. 

“Someone has to, I suppose.” 

The three of you headed back toward the campsite, an outcropping in some rock that wasn’t overwhelmed by snow. You built a fire while Joel and Ellie dressed the rabbit and you got that oddly happy, domestic feeling in you as you did. Fuck, you hoped the Fireflies had good doctors. You didn’t want to say goodbye to this, not even for just a little while. 

Ellie fell asleep early and you sat close to Joel, the fire glowing and warm. His arm was around you and you were tucked securely against his side. 

“Really startin’ to hold a grudge against winter,” he said. 

“Oh?” You glanced up at him. 

“Real hard to get at any of your skin around all these layers,” he said. You laughed. 

“Someone decided to pick a fight instead of taking advantage of a night we had doors,” you elbowed him lightly. “And working heat. And showers.” 

“I know,” he groaned, dropping his head back against the rock. “I was a damn fool, should have fuckin’ known better…” 

“Really should have,” you teased. He tugged you closer. 

“Just make up for it when we get where we’re going,” you said. “I imagine there are plenty of doors at a Firefly facility…” 

“Test out the sound proofing on all of ‘em…” 

You could hear the smirk in his voice. You tugged the unzipped sleeping bag the two of you were using as a blanket up under your chin and tugged a glove off, lacing your fingers with his. He frowned. 

“You’re gonna freeze.” 

“You’re not the only one who wants a little more skin,” you said. He let your hand go, pulled off his glove, and returned it. His palm was warm, his calluses oddly comforting. 

“Speaking of the night in Jackson,” you said after a few minutes of sitting, quiet, just holding onto each other. “What you said about Tommy…” 

“I shouldn’t have said a damn thing,” he cut you off. “I was being an asshole, fallin’ into old habits with you, stupid shit where I try to get you to leave me because I’m scared and know I can’t leave you…” 

“You know I was only ever with him because I didn’t have you, right?” You asked, sitting up enough to look him in the eye. “Anyone I was with after you was just… It feels wrong to say it but they were just a placeholder. They were someone to keep from hurting too much because I couldn’t have you. 

“It’s not that I don’t care about Tommy,” you said. “I do. A lot. We were always friends, even before anything happened with you and me. But that’s all we were ever really meant to be.” 

Joel nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. 

“That’s how I feel about Tess, too,” he said. You frowned a little and he pulled you closer to him. “She was who I had because I was too afraid of getting hurt with you, I was who she had after her husband died. We were good friends - she was like family - but everything more… it never felt right.

“Baby,” he looked at you, his eyes deep and wide and sad. “I never said it properly but… I’m so sorry. I wasted so much time because I was so fuckin’ scared and it’s time we can never get back. I should’ve gotten my shit together years ago and instead I kept hurtin’ you and fucked up things for everyone. I never should have said what I did in Jackson…” 

“I know how you are when you get scared,” you reached up and knotted your gloved fingers in his hair, pulling his forehead to your own. He closed his eyes for a moment. “I understand it. But Joel, the solution can’t be that you leave. Even if it’s just temporary, even If you say you’ll be waiting for me. We live in a scary world. Even once we get to Jackson and settle, I’m sure there’s going to be times where I’m in danger or Ellie is or you are and you can’t run from it every time. You just can’t, this won’t work if you do. We have to be a team.” 

“I know, Baby,” he kissed you softly, deeply. “I know.” 

***

Joel suggested that Ellie try riding her own horse most of the day as the three of you closed in on the university. It would be good for her to get the experience, just in case she needed to handle a horse on her own. That was the reason he gave for it.

But Joel also really fucking loved sitting on a horse with you wrapped around him. Your arms around his waist, your legs next to his, the warm press of your face against his back when you decided to lean against him. He loved having you close like that, could have drowned in it and died happy, never worried about breathing again. 

Ellie, it seemed, took naturally to riding. Joel had enough experience himself - he’d picked up plenty you didn’t know about in the years before he made it to the QZ - but you were still the better rider and even you were impressed. She connected with the animal well, their bond intuitive and easy. But Ellie, for all her sharpened edges, seemed to do that with any living thing. 

He doubted she was even aware of it. But she’d had you wrapped around her finger for years and by the time the three of you’d made it to Kansas City, Joel was already horrified of what would happen if she got hurt or killed. Now, he knew he couldn’t lose her. Losing either of you was not an option. He’d burn the world down first. 

“Think they’ll let you keep sheep in the backyard at the house in Jackson?” Ellie asked. 

“Dunno,” Joel said. “But I changed my mind on that, anyway.” 

“Yeah?” Ellie asked. “What do you want to do then?” 

“I figure since you’re goin’ to the moon and that one,” he jerked his head back at you. “Is apparently goin’ to Paris, I’m gonna be a singer.” 

“No way!” She laughed. 

“Yup,” he said. He was starting to see signs of the civilization ahead of him. “That was what I wanted to do when I was young. Think I should give it another go.” 

“Were you any good?” She asked, pulling her horse up closer. 

“Ask her,” he nodded back toward you again. 

“He was really good,” you smiled a little. “Played some good guitar, too…” 

“Oh man,” Ellie smiled and shook her head. “I don’t know if I buy it, Doc’s biased when it comes to you…” 

“No I’m not!” You protested. “I’m a perfectly good judge of his talents and skills. He’s a good musician.” 

“Prove it,” she said. 

“Don’t exactly got a guitar on me, kid,” he replied. 

“When we get back then,” she said. “That town has hot water, I bet someone there has a fucking guitar… I’m going to save the fuckin’ world, man, the least you can do is show off those skills.”  

When you got closer to where he thought the university was, he had you and Ellie switch spots. You he could trust to run out of a situation while he provided cover for her. It was the best they could really hope for. 

“I’ll do the talking when we find them,” you said as the university loomed. “Not that they know you, Joel, but hopefully they’ll be receptive toward me…” 

Joel just gave you a stiff nod. His stomach was tight. There was something about this that made him uneasy. It wasn’t even the place, though it seemed oddly quiet for a Firefly base that wasn’t trying to hide from FEDRA. 

It was that this was the end of the journey for the three of you. There was something ominous about that, anything that implied some kind of severance or separation. 

Yes, it seemed that the three of you had decided to stay together after this point even though no one had expressly said that was the plan or why you were doing it that way. But there was uncertainty around this point. How long you would need to stay - and whether or not the Fireflies would fight to keep you if you didn’t agree. Just how long they’d need Ellie. Would they need her here for months, years, to keep drawing samples? He didn’t know how that worked, how any of that worked. What if one of you could go and the other couldn’t? Would you all stay here? Would he take you or her back to Jackson and return for he other one? What would be safest? 

“What does it mean, ‘home of the big horns’?” Ellie frowned as you came upon the entrance to the campus. 

“It’s the mascot,” Joel said. “For the football team and stuff. That one’s a kind of sheep.” 

“Huh,” Ellie said. “Hey Doc, did your school have a mascot?” 

“The Longhorns actually,” you said. 

“Hook ‘em,” Joel smiled a little. You laughed. 

“OK but like… not all of them are horn related, right?” Ellie frowned. 

“No,” you laughed again. “That’s just a coincidence. In Texas there were also the Aggies and the Raiders… Oklahoma had the Sooners. Michigan had the Wolverines. Notre Dame was the Fighting Irish…” 

“Sounds like a lot of bullshit for places people are supposed to be learning stuff,” Ellie said as you worked your way into the campus. 

“Kinda was,” you said. “A lot of focus on the stuff that brought in money, which was usually sports…”

“And plenty of people who went to college weren’t focused on the learning part,” Joel said. “Too busy partyin’ or tryin’ to find themselves to go to class.” 

“I’m guessing that wasn’t Doc,” Ellie smirked a little. 

“You would be correct,” you smiled. “I was a nerd.” 

“You’re still a nerd,” she teased. 

“Darn right,” you said. Joel winked at you. You smiled. 

Joel was starting to actively watch for signs of people but he didn’t see much - at least, no signs of people there now. Plenty of people from the past. 

There was a loud almost squawking sound and Joel tensed for a moment before he located the noise. A troop of monkeys - half a dozen or so - crossing the campus one right after the other. 

“Holy shit,” Ellie breathed. “The fuck are those?” 

“Monkeys,” you frowned. “Whatever you do, do not try to get close to one, they will quite literally rip our face off…” 

“OK but what the fuck are they doing here,” she said. “I thought they were from like… Africa and shit.” 

“Probably leftover from any animal testing labs the school had,” you said. “Or maybe the Fireflies had them… If it was Fireflies, that’s a hell of an operation.” 

“If it was Fireflies,” Joel asked, looking over at you. “Then why the fuck are they loose?” 

“Still,” Ellie said, voice still awed. “Never thought I’d see a monkey.” 

The three of you pressed on, Joel taking the lead until he found some guard posts that had clearly been abandoned. 

“Maybe we should get our guns out,” Ellie said. 

“Found the building at least,” you said, slipping off your horse. Joel and Ellie followed suit and you tied your horses off out front. 

“It’s awful quiet here,” Joel said. “Not sure what the fuck happened but…” 

You and Ellie both nodded. 

He took the lead, putting Ellie in the middle and you at the back as he went for the doors, his gun drawn. 

Inside the building, everything was in disarray. But it was a more recent disarray, something from within maybe the last few weeks, not disarray from when the world ended 20 years earlier. 

“There were doctors here,” Ellie said, stopping at a cart and picking up a vial. She held it out for you and you took it, looking it over. Joel holstered his gun and started rifling through things while you looked over the remains of the equipment. 

“Packing list,” Joel said, holding up a piece of paper. You came over and looked at it, frowning. 

“This is thorough,” you said. “Not a quick jaunt kind of thing, this is a ‘the whole operation is relocating’ kind of list…” 

“So, what, they’re all gone?” Ellie asked. “They just left?” 

Her voice cracked a little and she cleared her throat to cover it. 

There was a noise from inside the building, something clattering to the floor. 

“Maybe not yet,” you said, folding the lacking list and tucking it in your pocket. 

Joel pulled his gun back out and led the way up stairs, moving quietly. There was something behind a lab door, something banging around… He held his arm out to try to keep you back as he opened the door. 

There was a loud screech and a monkey knocked something to the ground with a metallic clatter before it took off through a broken window. 

“Maybe their research turned them into monkeys,” Ellie said. “The comic books finally came true…” 

“Stranger things have happened,” you said, starting to look around the room and see what there was. Joel went to a cork board, one covered in pins and thread. 

“Everything is pointing to Salt Lake City,” he frowned at the map. 

“That’s got to be where they went then, right?” Ellie frowned, standing next to him and frowning up at the map. “How far is that?” 

“A hike,” Joel frowned. “Few hundred miles. It’ll be easier with the horses but…” 

“I just can’t figure out why they’d leave,” you said, coming over to look at the map, too. “Relocating a lab is a bitch. I had to help a professor with it once, years ago. He was setting up some clinical trial and the drug company wanted it on their property, not the school’s and there was so much to do…” 

“Maybe the facilities there are better,” Joel shrugged. 

“Yeah,” you sounded uncertain. 

Joel heard something. He held a finger to his lips as he went to the window and peered out into  the courtyard below. A handful of men - all armed - were walking by. One laughed. His stomach clenched as he looked back to you and Ellie. Your eyes were wide. You’d heard it, too. 

He went back for the two of you. 

“The horses,” you said. “They’ll see the horses…” 

“Out the back,” Joel said. “Stay close…” 

He led the way. The men weren’t inside yet and Joel rushed you both out to the horses, scrambling to untie them from the tree he’d hitched them to. He was nearly done when Ellie grabbed his arm.

“Joel!” She shrieked, her eyes wide. He spun just in time to see a man swinging a wooden baseball bat at him. It cracked against the tree and the man scrambled for you next but Joel grabbed him, wrapping his arm around his neck and pulling back. The man struggled and strained - all dying men do. But Joel was stronger. More desperate. He cracked the man’s neck and he went limp before Joel dropped his body and he crumpled to the earth. 

He turned to face both of you, Ellie’s gun pointed straight ahead, yours aimed at the ground - he’d have to get on Ellie about where to point your fucking gun if you weren’t about to shoot it - when Ellie’s already wide eyes got wider.

“Oh shit,” she breathed, looking at his stomach. 

“Joel,” you reached for him and he looked down. The end of the bat was lodged inside him. He hadn’t felt it until he saw it. Then it was like a switch flipped. He went from feeling normal to the brutal, stabbing pain as his body was ripped open. He went to pull the wood out but your hands covered his. 

“You have to leave it in,” you said quickly. “You’ll bleed out too quick if you pull it out…” 

“Doc, the other guys,” Ellie looked at you. 

“Take the horses…” Joel began, but you ignored him, looping an arm under his and dragging him to the horse. “No, that wasn’t the deal…” 

“Joel I swear to God if you don’t get on this fucking horse I will lay down and die right here,” you snapped. 

He didn’t have it in him to fight you. Instead, he got on, about to tell you to take Ellie but you were already talking to her. 

“Get as far as you can as fast as you can,” you told her. “I’m going to lead them away. I’ll find you. Head for Jackson, but if you can’t make it, I’ll find you, OK? I’ll find you.” 

“But…” Ellie began but you shook your head. 

“You have to get him out of here, Ellie,” your voice was desperate. “You have to, you can do this…” 

“No,” Joel managed as Ellie clambered onto the horse behind him.  

“Hey!” The men shouted. 

You smacked his horse and it took off. Joel looked behind him to see you all but leaping into the saddle of your own horse, pulling your gun and shooting at the oncoming group. He saw you ride away, gun held out, as Ellie pressed the horse on. 

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been riding. His whole body hurt, the pain radiating out from the stab wound at his stomach. He was fighting to obey your order - to leave the weapon lodged inside him until he was in a position that he wouldn’t bleed out but it hurt. It hurt so fucking bad, the harsh, sharp wood ripping him with every sway of the horse and every breath. 

“Joel?” Ellie’s voice sounded so far away. 

You were so far away. Fuck, he should have stopped you from leaving. Who the hell knew where you were now? You should have stayed with Ellie, should have left him behind while the two of you made it back to Jackson. You could make it that far on your own, after the last week he was sure of it. 

The world tilted. 

“Joel!” Ellie’s words were louder but still far away. “Joel, we’re going to…” 

He slipped then, off the horse and onto the ground. It was cold, hard. The sky was blue. You were far away. Too far away. Why were you so far away? What if you were hurt? What if they’d touched you? What if they took you, what if they killed you… You and Ellie should always be close. It was wrong that you weren’t there… 

“Joel!” Ellie’s hands were on him. “Shit, you have to stay with me Joel, don’t leave me out here alone, please don’t leave me, please stay, please, I’m fucking begging you, I can’t do this alone. I can’t do this without you, I don’t know where I am or how to get to where we’re going, please Joel….” 

The sky was blue. The ground was cold. Ellie was close. You were gone. He wasn’t sure what happened next. 

*** 

You were a shit shot under the best of conditions. It was far worse when you were terrified and on horseback. 

But you still tried. 

The men were on foot at first and you had to go slow enough that they’d stick with you and not follow Joel and Ellie but they’d brought horses, too. And once they were on them, it was a whole other animal. 

You pushed your horse more than you wanted to, trying to put distance between you and the men. You’d have no hope of fighting them off if they caught you. There were half a dozen of them. You couldn’t shoot them all, you’d never have a chance to hit them all before someone got to you. You could only out run them. 

“Good girl,” you stroked your horse’s mane as she slowed to a trot. You couldn’t push her any harder, you could feel it. But you were pretty sure you’d lost them, anyway. “You did so good, we can take a break then we can track them down, OK?” 

You slipped off her back and started looking for something nearby that you could use to get her water. Snow was limited here so you couldn’t just melt some, but you hoped you could find a stream or something to help her with. 

Her breathing calmed and you found a river. She all but dove into it to drink and you held her reins, leaning against a tree, trying to stay calm. 

You had to give your horse a chance to rest otherwise you’d never catch Joel and Ellie, not on foot. But you wanted to move now, wanted to run as fast as you could for them. Joel had been stabbed - the image of it burned into your brain, making your chest clench and stomach knot. But the location could have been worse, it might have missed his kidneys and intestines entirely. With any luck it did. 

Not that you could count on luck. 

“Hey there pretty girl.” 

You jumped, drawing your gun and turning toward the voice. The man was leaning against a tree, not far from you, smiling. There was a knife in his hand. You held the gun out. 

“Stay back,” you warned. “I don’t want to shoot you.” 

“Do we kill her or take her with us?” 

There was another voice, from behind you now, and you spun to face it. 

Shit. 

You were out numbered. You could try shooting them but that was a sure fire way to get yourself killed. 

“Think we take her,” a third man now. Your heart pounded against your ribs. “Think James would be happy for the gift, she looks like his type…” 

“Yeah, she’s not David’s,” someone laughed darkly. 

“Please,” you said. You had to get to Joel, he was stabbed, he was bleeding, Ellie was all but on her own, you had to get to them you had to… “My friends, they’ll be looking for me…” 

“So?” The man from behind you said. 

“I don’t want to cause you trouble,” you said, backing up until you were pressed against your horse. “Just let me go on my way…” 

“Sorry baby doll,” the men were pressing into you from all sides now. “We just can’t do that.” 

One stepped forward and grabbed your gun and, in the instant before one of them started dragging you away, you’d never felt more terrified or more alone.

A/N: Eeeeeeeeeek! The trio is separated, Joel's stabbed, Doc's been taken. It's a whole thing. A whole big, exciting thing :)

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#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you

[the-oracles-maw]

downtime

Miguel is hard on you because he cares. Set after the events of beyond the spider verse I guess?? So very, very not canon.

father figure! Miguel o'hara x reader

It's been a while since you've come into headquarters voluntarily.

And Miguel's noticed.

You see, you were perhaps a social experiment for the hardheaded spider-man.

"You're good for him," another spider-man, Peter B., had told you one day when he insisted on introducing you to his rambunctious toddler, Mayday. That was also the day he told you about that kid. Miles.

You have yet to meet him. But apparently, Miles' appearance sent shockwaves throughout the Spider-Society, bringing it to the brink of disbanding. You came along sometime after it, into the arms of angry and protective spider-people, who at first, didn't want you anywhere near their leader.

Miguel was exasperated by you. How, he thought, could such a natural talented spider, like you, even at a relatively young age! Be so goddamn lazy? And reckless! He stared at you as you lay buried beneath your quilts in the apartment the society provided for you like a slug. Truly, it was fascinating how heavy you slept.

He wondered if you played possum during your missions and he didn't know. If it turns out you did, he'd rip you a new one.

"(name,)..." His voice uncharacteristically soft, but still edged with annoyance as he approached you, before firmly shaking your shoulder with a heavy sigh. "Oye, (name.) Up, up, up. It's past noon."

Somewhere, you were far, far away. You have a hand at whatever is trying to coax you from wonderful, wonderful slumber. You mutter something into your pillow, but with Miguel's enhanced hearing, it sounded an awful lot like "Go fuck yourself."

Miguel raised a graceful brow at your half-conscious protest. Tossing all self control out the window, and knowing you're a sleep deprived monster who sleeps fully clothed, he grabs your ankles and begins to gradually drag you from your pillow and off the other side of the bed.

"Jesus Christ! Okay! Okay! I'm getting up!"

"This cannot be healthy for you, (name.) Sleeping until noon. Ever thought about going to bed earlier? Putting aside your games for once?"

"Pot, meet kettle, asshole."

"Touché."

He's still lingering in your tiny apartment, passing you a warm empanada as you exit your bedroom, hair in a towel and spider-suit donned. "Seriously, it's a miracle you haven't missed a mission."

"I have a system!" You protest, biting into the empanada, the savory meat waking you right up.

"Uh huh, sure. Come on, eat. I got a job for you."

"Oh come on!" You protest with a mouth full. "It's Saturday, dude!"

Miguel said nothing, just looking back at you.

Shoving the rest of the empanada in your mouth you grumble. "Mn.. Fine. Fuck you, then."

 ━━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━━━ 

You saw this coming a mile away. And boy, did you give Ben hell for not watching your six on this mission. Even when he patted your shoulder saying to follow him, adding in "you've earned some downtime," was just a ploy to soften you up for the incoming lecture.

"I thought you were better than that, (name,) running headfirst into the anomalies. You could've missed and sent them running loose!"

"That was not me," you argued back. "Not this time." You turn away from him. You're really not in the mood for this debate. You're exhausted and in pain.

"Really? Who was it then?"

"Ben."

"Oh, we're pointing fingers now?"

"You're kidding right? I already talked to him! He went out to do his own thing!" You argued back and showed him your arm, watered and bruised from a harsh landing. You don't bother to look at the state of your badly aching chest. Miguel gave a long look at you and shook his head.

"Hey, let me ask you something," you say suddenly, despite the pain in your chest, you're raising your voice. Perhaps the adrenaline produced for your injuries was doing you some good. "How come whenever something goes wrong, your first instinct is that it had something to do with me? Why do you crawl up my ass all the time?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me! I'm not a child, Miguel." Miguel was certainly thinking about arguing back that you were acting like one, with your arms folded and raised voice, so he did just that.

"You don't even listen to me!" Your voice had become a sudden shout, capturing the attention of mingling spider-people, now staring at you and their boss. A few shaking their heads. Another few departing.

Feeling the countless eyes on him, (and being very much aware that more than a few of his subordinates were still pretty angry at him,) he sighed and shook his head. "Alright... you know what, (name)? Come... let's... talk about this."

His voice was uncharacteristically quiet. Even when he ordered the lingering spider-people out. Even when he urged you to sit. You were absolutely seething with anger, not exactly willing to hear him out. Still, his expression remained soft.

"Look, I... I know I'm tough on you." He began. You opened your mouth to fire something back, but he raised a hand to stop you. "I know. It doesn't feel like I'm trying to help you out-"

"The why bother?" You interrupt him. "Why try if you know every time I'm going to fuck something up? You happen to have a knack for these things. Especially if it's my fault that everything goes wrong."

Miguel was surprised to see tears starting to prick at your eyes. "Hey, no, nena, that's not it-" He's not sure where or how the nickname slipped, but he decided to roll with it. He sighed again. "You know what, maybe I'm just... not expressing this correctly."

Fuck, Miguel felt like an idiot right now. But it was as close to explaining why he was so tough on you as he could get. He scooted a little closer to you, bending down to look you in the eye as you bowed your head. "You remember what I told you that day? When I first took you in."

Clear as the fucking day, you thought. When the spider-society, or more specifically, Miguel, discovered you, the lone survivor of a universal collapse, he was much worse with his words.

"Yeah, you said I wasn't a huge mistake. Just the byproduct of a huge mistake."

Miguel visibly blushed at this recounting. You turn away from him. "I don't need the reminder that a fault in the system is all I'll ever be to you, asshole." Your voice was cracking. The pain in your arm and chest and your exhaustion was getting to you, and you were crumbling."

"(name)..." Miguel reached out, and tried to place a comforting hand on your shoulder, but you noticeably, painfully flinched.

"Fuck, I'll take you to get that checked out."

"I... I'll do it..." You're barely stringing a sentence together.

"Look at you," Miguel sighed. "I bet you can barely walk in this state. And I don't know how I feel about leaving you alone right now, nena. I still wanna talk." And there was the nickname again.

" Do you remember why, I said I decided to take you under my wing?"

You don't answer, sniffling. Miguel's lips curl up into a small smile. "Come on, nena. I know you know. I know you have a photographic memory like that. Freaks me the hell out. But, come on. I wanna hear you say it."

"I'm still spider-woman." You respond. Now looking up at him.

"And?"

You blink away the last of your tears. "You'll be there every step of the way, anomaly with nowhere to go or not. I'm spider-woman."

"Damn right you are." And with that, Miguel pulled you into a tight hug. His free hand gently petting your hair. You can't help but to bury your tearful face pitifully into his shoulder and whimper into it. "...And damn right I will, nena. Got me?"

You sniff. "...yeah."

"Now you listen to me, you're not a mistake. And... yeah, you're a pain, but you're not a disappointment. All I want is to look out for you. I'm a hard ass on you because I care. This is me caring."

"You have a funny way if showing it."

"I know, nena, I know." He continues to rub your hair. "I'm working on it." He gently lets you go, placing both hands ever so lightly on your shoulders, avoiding your injuries. "Why don't we get you patched up, yeah? Like I said, you could use some downtime."

You smile at that. "Sure. Everything is killing me." Miguel sighed as he outstretched a hand for you to help you up. "Am I gonna have to carry you?"

"This fine ass princess? Maybe."

"Ay, por dios, (name.)" There she was. The snarky, sassy you he's come to cherish like you were his own flesh and blood. Yeah, he thought. He's hard on you because he cares.

Perhaps he should, starting in the infirmary, express to you more of that "cares."

Peter B. was right. You were good for Miguel. And fuck him, Miguel thought, shaking his head with a smile.

#platonic miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderman #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman: across the spiderverse #miguel spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv #spiderman atsv #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #my writing #writeblr #yours truly from ace Miguel central #Miguel o'hara x reader fluff #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #I hope I used oye correctly

[horrorslvts]

just my type | leo valdez part one

keywords : leo valdez, riordanverse, canon x oc

writer's note : uhh yall ate up the idea of a daughter of hermes oc x leo valdez so mommy will feed u my children... i present to you absolute chaos and comedic relief couple. enjoy.. ship is very inspired by 'just my type - the vamps'

the sound of metal hitting against metal reached the girl's ears, making her eyebrows stiffen a bit as she made her way onto the real crime scene; all those awful sounds came from argo II being made; and although silena de leon, daughter of hermes; beloved half-sister of luke castellan really respected the cause, the sound made her absolutely cringe.

the raven haired girl almost tripped over a few tools that had been abandoned in the middle of the way, making her cuss under her breath and look down at her sneakers to make sure they were not damaged by some stupid leftover hammer. with a little shake of the head silena finally approached the curly haired boy who was, apparently, putting some wooden planks on the side of the boat, and also spaced out enough to not realize she was making her way near. he stood on the third step of a high ladder. "hey bob the builder; don't you want to catch a break sometime?"

leo looked down at the -surprisingly- shorter girl, and flashed a little smile. he lifted his arm to wipe some dust away from his face and nose with his sleeve and shrugged a bit. "if you are asking me to-" he gently threw the hammer on his hand aside, letting it fall on some spare nails, and stepped down from the ladder he was on. "interrupted your sleep again? sorry, i'll make sure to delay an entire quest so you can get a few more hours of naps" leo said with a little chuckle and leaned with one arm on the boat, his hand running through his curls pushing them back making silena watch in awe.

now, silena and leo didn't know each other long. for what it's worth, silena met him and percy through annabeth who she has known forever; given that luke set them up to be friends when sil arrived at the camp for the first time; and they actually did. but gods, ever since meeting this dam son of hephaestus she had been losing her mind. whether it was the back and forth signs and jokes, or the absolute denial that either of them would ever see each other in any way above platonic; something made her heart skip a beat whenever she was close to the tanned boy, that's all she knew; should have seen her face when he first laughed at her spaniard accent; any other person would have taken a punch but he just got lucky with a push.

"yeah, that'd be so sweet of you!"

leo gave her a death stare with a chuckle, knowing damn well she wasn't anywhere near serious.

"so if it isn't that, why pay us a visit?"

silena slowly walked towards the rope ladder of the ship, tugging on it . "just curious to see how the ship is going. very good apparently." she pulled herself up the rope ladder which instantly caused a reaction by the other, making leo rush to bring her down in case she fell.

"whoa whoa you know that's not tied well yet right?!"

sil sat on one of the rope ladder's thin steps, only a couple feet above him and chuckled, swinging her feet to show her winged sneakers. "why do you always forget valdez?"

the curly haired sighed a bit. " if you get all tangled up in the ropes these aren't going to save you-." he looked at her from below with that signature troublemaking smile that brought an aching on her heart.

"i know, but you will."

the boy let his suspenders fall from each shoulder and climbed back up on his ladder, finally reaching her height and being almost face to face with the blue eyed girl; his breath was always cut short when the two were this close. it was funny how after so long of percy and annabeth being sappy now annabeth teased these two like her life depended on it.

"although you're not exactly knight in shining armor material.." silena reached to wipe his forehead from some mechanical oil. " more like greasy armor.."

"you know what's funny, sil?"

"hm?"

"your back is touching my fresh painted planks-."

sil finally realized why her shirt was sticking on her back for the past minute.

"VALDEZ-!"

#sheissoinlovewithhimipromise #leo valdez x oc #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez imagines #leo valdez #percy jackson #pjo #hoo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fandom #heroes of olympus

[gglitch1dd]

Hello!

I was wondering if I could get some head canons when you see your ex. You start to freak out, but since he's right there, everything is fine.

You don't have to do this if you don't want to.

-Mari

Nice to see you again, darling!! I would love to do this for you.

MHA Boys: Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki

When you see your Ex.

Midoriya Izuku

You and Midoriya had been dating for a year, mostly in secret because he was the number one hero and the media would eat the both of you alive if you both went public. So together you had lowkey dates in private. However like all things with the press, they came out. Everything comes out in time.

Midoriya was a great guy. He was attentive, sweet, loving. He was everything you could hope for in a man. He put his everything into your relationship and even though he was often busy and on some big mission or on patrol, the constant onslaught of pure love and devotion never left nor dwindled.

Not to mention he was hot. Like really hot. He wasn't just the number one hero cause of his hero work. His PR team sold out his looks and status as much as humanly possible. You couldn't help but have a smug look on your face when you would see him in the cover of some branded underwear magazine thinking, 'Damn, I snagged that'.

Cause you did.

But with all of that, it didn't fully erase all the hurt that had happened in the past before Midoriya. Before you met him, you had a habit of finding yourself with professional gaslighters and manipulators.

And it wouldn't always be the last time since you saw them.

You and Midoriya had gone on a date in public. A restaurant. Midoriya had gone to the bathroom leaving you alone and sitting at your table enjoying the wine and the top floor view. You sipped and watched with interest at the city below.

"Y/N?"

"Hm?" You turned your head and froze once you saw who it was. You froze at the person who had appeared beside your table. The image of them making you freeze. You hadn't seen them since you had broken up and that is how you wanted it to stay, but now they were standing in front of you.

They smiled down at you with a tilt of their head. "I haven't seen you in forever, huh?" They spoke as they looked you up and down. "You're looking good."

You forced a smile on your face. You weren't sure how to react. You didn't want them here. You didn't want them anywhere near you. Yet here they were. You just wanted Midoriya to get here. Where was he? "Hey... yah. It's... it's good to see you." Your smile strained.

"So what are you doing here? Lunch?"

"Ah... yah." You nodded your head watching as their eyes moved to Midoriya's empty space in front of you, specifically to the plate that showed that someone was indeed there. You motioned to it. "Yah. I'm on a date." You clarified hoping that would give them the hint to leave. "So..."

They nodded their head as they looked around. "Where are they at?"

"The bathroom." You quickly answered.

"Well, I can keep you company till they get back." They smiled putting a hand on Midoriya's chair.

You felt your nerves start to increase. You shook your head. "No. That's okay, you don't have to-"

"Aw come on Y/N don't be like that." They chuckled with a smile. They moved their hand down on top of yours on the table making you freeze. "For old time sake."

Suddenly a hand grasped the wrist of your ex. "That won't be necessary." Your ex looked up but didn't expect to come face to face with the Number One hero of Japan. Midoriya had an unimpressed look on his face as he moved his sunglasses up as his jade eyes looked your ex up and down. Without much needed force, he removed their hand off of you. "May I ask, who are you?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm..." They were incredibly phased by the sudden appearance of Midoriya. "I'm Y/N's ex. I'm-"

"Sorry, never heard of you." Midoriya interrupted them. He however forced a smile on his face. "But it's great to meet you. I wish it would be in a different setting though, because my partner and I," Midoriya put a hand on your shoulder, much to your relief. He didn't look at you but you knew you had all his attention. "are on a date. So how about you talk to my secretary and we can get to know each other properly yah? Great." Midoriya kept his fake smile on his face as he snapped his hand into the air, instantly catching attention from a waiter. "Nice to meet you." Midoriya motioned for them to leave in a subtle yet blatant way."

Your ex hesitated before turning to leave, led by the waitress. Midoriya's smile dropped off of his face. "Jeez, some people." He muttered to himself as he turned to you. He kissed the top of your head. "Now what are we having next? Desert?" He asked as he grabbed his chair to sit down, a genuine smile on his face this time.

You smiled in relief at him. Midoriya was always there for you.

Bakugou Katsuki

Now one of the most weirdest decisions you probably made in your life was falling for Bakugou Katsuki. He was one of the most head strong, paranoid, one splinter away from exploding people you've ever met. However he was something straight out of a fantasy for you. Yah he was brash, but he was thoughtful, calculated, ambitious. He wasn't one for words, not knowing how best to articulate his feelings into words but damn did he care.

He did it in the little things. In his actions. In the way that every week he would get you your favourite flowers, or chocolate. Or how after a long day for you, he would cook you your favourite meal. No matter how he was, even when he could work up your nerves, he never stopped loving you in his own angry pomeranian way.

But being with him was something you were often insecure about. He was the son of two top fashion designers. Grew up wealthy and ended up wealthy. He was the Number Two Hero of Japan. His fanbase was made out of people that were no doubt, some, were better looking than you. They could probably fill in the roll of a hero's partner much better than you could.

But no matter what, Bakugou made sure that you understood through your thick skull that you were the one for him. That he loved you. That you were his everything. So why should you worry?

And normally you always listened to Bakugou (when he was right).

I mean why wouldn't you? He was right this time (he would argue about that).

When you were on an evening date with him, somewhere fantasy because Bakugou often referred to himself as more of your Sugar Daddy than your boyfriend, but who were you to stop him. If he wanted to do something, hell would rather freeze oven than change his mind.

Now how you ended up alone waiting for him to enter the restaurant was something you still had to grapple your head around. One moment you were with Bakugou and the next he was getting a call from the commission. Something work related that didn't have to do with him going into the office or into uniform, but was of a high priority enough for him to step away for moment.

You didn't mind because you know important his work was and how seriously he took it. You supported him like that. But what you didn't like was how the moment he left, you just stumbled into your ex.

You tried to make sure they wouldn't notice you, turning your head away from them to make sure they couln't see you. You prayed, prayed, they wouldn't see you.

"Y/N."

Looks like the heavens weren't in your favour right now.

You turned with a forced smile towards your ex who had a beautiful girl next to them. "Hey..." You greeted them. "Long time."

"Yah very long time." They nodded their head. "How are you doing?"

You nodded your head, hoping that by some miracle, Bakugou's super senses would kick in and notice that his partner needed him right now. "I'm good."

"Yah, you must be. I heard you were with Dynamight." They commented with a chuckle. You nodded your head in agreement. "How surprising..." They started with a dark look to them. "I didn't think out of everyone, Dynamight would end up with you."

You paused for a moment, digesting what was just said. "W... what do you mean?" You asked a bit more quietly, trying to keep your smile up.

They shrugged. "I mean... I thought he would get like a supermodal, or some high end person within the same elitist group not someone like you. You know? Someone ordinary."

You were speechless. You weren't sure how to feel about that. You were a good person. You didn't exactly any hard bad habits or qualities you thought undesirable but you didn't think of yourself like that. But they weren't wrong. Compared to Bakugou, you were ordinary.

"Oi dipshit." Snaking his hand to hold your waist and pull you against him was Bakugou. He kept his eyes forward onto your ex with a glare. He held you tight against him. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

You perked up at his language. "Katsuki, we're in public." You remind him quietly.

He just squeezed your side indicating to you that he heard you, but focused on your ex. Said ex, swallowed as they raised their head. "I'm Y/N's ex. I'm-"

"Great, don't actually care." He interupted them. Now... He took a step forward with a tough glare. He pointed a finger to their chest. A harsh look in his crimson eyes that screamed murder. "The next time I hear you talk to them like that, or at all, ever again, I'm gonna make you wish you never cross us again. Do you understand me?" His voice low.

Your ex swallowed as they glared up at them. "You wouldn't." They chuckled.

Bakugou smiled wickedly. He chuckled as he leaned back. He started to pull you forward, before stopping right besides your ex. "Try me. I've covered up enough dead bodies to know how to dispose of yours." His eyes scarily empty and holding nothing but brutal honesty. Bakugou smiled. He tapped his shoulder, with a smoking hand, before continuing forward with you.

You looked up at the blond. You leaned against him. "Thanks, Katsuki." You whispered to him in gratitude.

He smirked smuggly. "Of course, babe. You're my everything."

-Glitch1d

#bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo #katsuki fluff #bakugou fluff #bakugou headcanons #izuku midoriya #bnha izuku #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #izuku x you #midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya headcanons #deku headcanons #deku x reader

[rise-my-angel]

A Poisonous Truth (Part One)

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Female Reader x Ellaria Sand

Length: 25k

Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, mentions past instances of rape not related to reader, inference to past domestic abuse, sex work/prostitution, smut, m/f/f dynamics, canon divergence, semi slow burn

Notes: Follows along season 4 but the story diverts from canon more and more as it goes along. Ellaria is an active part of the romance story. There are and will be many book elements pulled into the story as opposed to strictly the show canon. I don't know what happened with the length , I'm so sorry.

Part 2 Now Posted

Cross Posted to Ao3

King’s Landing by far is the most disgusting place you had been too. Your journey, if you could call it that, traveling down south had you encountering a multitude of unfavorable conditions, and yet, the capitol was somehow the most unpleasant of them all. When the city had first come up into sight, a distant view coming into the light as the morning sun rose above the red keep. It didn’t even look good then. 

The only part of the city that didn’t look jam packed was the peak where the Red Keep lay, but the presence of your ruling monarch did little to impress. The streets were packed with people, most of whom didn’t seem to have anywhere near the comforts you would have expected of the citizens of the capitol. Poverty seemed everywhere, every twist and turn protruding a foul plethora of odors, and without the brightness of the sun to shine, too busy geaning onto the delicately constructed city centre, the streets felt dark and cramped. 

The only silver lining was that the Street of Silk was just a breath more attractive then the claustrophobic unkempt streets which you had been led there by. A discreet metal sign hanging from the tops of an entrance with nothing more than a mockingbird printed on it, signified the brothel to which you now had to call home. 

Only one real thing could be said about where your life had now led you, a small silver lining to your new accommodations, your brothel was owned by the once titled Master of Coin Petyr Baelish. The only positive of that being that you had consistent access to proper food and clean water, a luxury you were only afforded because such amenities needed to be made for what you were told was, high quality clientele. 

Though, those aren’t quite the words you would attribute to them. High quality only meant, they could afford to pay inordinate amounts of cash to do whatever they want and demand to be spoiled as much as they want. You were told before arriving that, because it was nobles, knights, men of the royal court who you would be servicing, that you would find better treatment here. 

Not even close. The smaller brothel you had found refuge in, was more cramped, dark, dirty, and clean water wasn’t even a guarantee, but the clients were travellers. People in the middle of a journey, looking to find company or reprieve from the quiet monotony of travel. Sure, they weren’t all kind, but they were interesting. Loud, boisterous men, almost more concerned with being seen as strong and entertaining then with the quality of service from whomever they had paid for. 

Quiet folk, wanting the companionship of intimacy to quell the long spells of nights filled with silence. Sometimes, they were simply people just looking to find a bed for the night, and being able to share one with a woman was more appealing then another night on a bedroll laid in the dirt next to the same stinky men they had travelled with for weeks. They were unique, such vast personalities not worried with how they appeared or looked because it did not matter. You remembered having nights where clients had spent more time making you laugh with their stories, then they had inside your body. Other times, they were men eager to teach you something, playful sessions showing you how to yield their weapons leading to an inevitable pin by the stronger warrior. 

Kings Landing was nothing like that. These men, these nobles and knights were not kind. They were greedy, demanding, and rough. They paid high amounts of coin to have the right to use you how they saw fit. The brothel was set up this way on purpose. The loose rules of treatment Little Finger had set into place allowed these rich members of the court to come back time and time again, spending their gold on the right to use you like a doll made for their pleasure alone. 

You had yet to meet the infamous weasel. You knew he was still in King's Landing, but having many cogs in motion at once he clearly felt he had better things to do than run his own business. Olyvar was currently the one in charge, well, in a sense. 

He also was under Little Fingers employ, catering to men with same sex interests alone, that gave him a certain level of time to find new responsibility. Simply put, Kings Landing seemed to look down upon that kind of behaviour, clients seeking out male services being much more uncommon, but highly sought after when needed. It seemed to have given him time to learn a touch of leadership. 

It was Olyvar who had been in charge the day you arrived, which honestly, was far better than meeting the infamous Lord himself. Sure he was personable and charming, most of them here were, but he also, wasn’t the one whom had made the deal to bring you here. Whatever backwater deals had been made to bring you here without any explanation, wasn’t made by him. One woman would later tell you that Baelish was dirty and manipulative, that speaking to him sometimes could feel almost humiliating. That when he held all the cards in a plan that you had no knowledge about, he would take pleasure in knowing he could control you however you wanted. 

Olyvar was still human deep down, which meant that he recognized the mask you wore when you arrived, a level of fear  in your eyes giving away a terror that you tried so desperately to hide in your body language. He didn’t know why obviously, no one knew why, and they never could. 

You had been brought here from another brothel, so it wasn’t the fear of being forced into a position you knew nothing of, no this was a fear you intended to keep silent. The fear of a secret you were once so sure no one could guess, now in a place where someone could know. Someone who may recognize who you used to be. 

Part of you recognized that it was unlikely. It had been well over a year, maybe even closer to two years since that day and you knew you looked different. Your hair, cut, styled, and dyed already hid the resemblance in your face quite well, you wore makeup now, even your body had changed. Recognizable scars that you never used to have, the way you hold yourself drastically altered due to your new profession, even your size, now softer. Weak, under fed, with no muscles to speak of, gave way to much softer, more plush skin. A plushness that lured men into your services with the promise of something to grab onto that matched your softer, quieter disposition.  

Something the other girls here picked up on right away. One you had seemed to form some kind of a friendship with, Genna, had commented on that fact one evening. "Sometimes men ask for me cus they have no idea what they’re doing.” 

Your own body, laying back one arm draped across your stomach while the other arched above your head, hand slipping to rest beneath the pillow, suddenly perched up onto your elbows with a raise of your eyebrows to accompany it. “So they what, ask you to teach them?” 

A smug little smile stretched across her face, “More like they need someone to guide them.” Genna hops back to the bed, knees placed down on each side of your own thighs, as she starts moving her fingertips to dance over them, “Need a girl in charge, show them how it works, tell them what to do.” 

Her fingers reach your stomach, and playfully pulls off the thin fabric you had lazily covered yourself with after your last client had finished with the two of you. In reaction, one of your own hands goes to grab it back, face scrunching in an unconvincing annoyed look. Genna simply jerks it back harder, only to come back with both hands and grasp your wrists holding them in place as she leans over you. “Virgins who need me to show them how to be in charge of little softies like you.” 

Your face barely hid the need to laugh, pretending as if her giggles were one sided. “Oh so I’m such a little softie now, huh? Not sure that's the word big boy was just calling me 10 minutes ago.” Wiggling your eyebrows enough that both you and Genna laughed. 

Releasing your hands, she finally relaxes, flops down onto the ruffled sheets beside you, both of you too lazy to detangle your legs as you both turned enough to see the other. Genna’s own hand comes up to gently move hair out of your face as she speaks. “Yeah, but I reckon that’s why they brought you here.’ 

You only got out a disbelieving look before she continued. “No, I'm serious. Some girls either come in here, hoping that fancy men means more money, and then leave when they aren’t dressed in golden robes bought with piles of their new riches. Those that stay, usually are normal. Here to do a job, smile at men, suck their cock and make ‘em happy. But I think you fit a specific niche.” 

Turning your body to lay on its side, head propped up by your hand as Genna does the same. “Oh, and what would that be?” Part of you already knows the answer, but you want to know what the others see in you.

“Someone soft, someone gentle but not timid. Men who want a submissive girl that makes them feel like they’re really in charge. Willing quiet things who need a big dominating man to corrupt your soft little innocence, instead of just a girl following orders because she’s getting paid to.”

Her hand coming back to stroke stands of your hair, “A real fantasy of a soft sweet girl willing to do anything a big strong man needs and demands of her, simply because she just really wants it.”

Your eyes cast downward for a moment, the faint sounds of giggling and loud moans echoing from other rooms. For a brief moment, you felt like you were somewhere far from where you ended up. Flashing to the reason you were hiding, barely a whisper coming out with a small nod of your head. “Men who want to feel in charge, not just act like it.” 

Genna calls your name, well, what you had told them what your name was, “You still with me? Or all that cock today finally putting you to sleep?” 

And like that, you were back. Back to the name you had given them, the person you were brought here to be. Your secret locked back up, no one to ever find it. Your hand grabbing the pillow behind you and giving her a hearty smack. 

Genna’s yelp only to be followed with a fight to take the pillow from you, giggling turning into loud laughter until the expected sight of two naked girls playing around in bed caught the attention of yet another faceless highborn ready to put you right back to work. 

You weren’t in the building the day Peytr Baelish tuned up. Having spent the morning, up and down the streets with another girl you worked alongside, Armeca. The morning sun grew hotter and hotter, the two of you made your way to get a view of the water before returning back. It was a short reprieve from the life you had created for yourself. Looking upon the strikingly bright blue water that ran from the channel out into the Narrow Sea. An escape that felt so painfully far from your resch.

Getting lost in the striking water, you missed Armeca calling your name until she came up beside you and linked your arm into hers. “What have you never seen water before?” She laughs gently before pulling you alongside her to make the walk back. “We need to get back.”

There had been whispers around the city regarding the King as of late. It was hard to make out the details, whispers amongst the people you walked by on the streets, or fragments of conversation between the knights and nobles. Sometimes you heard things indirectly, the men assuming you weren’t listening too  busy with the task at hand, or more blatantly as men had you and other girls sit in their laps as they drank and traded gossip like a couple of fish wives. 

Honestly, you didn’t know much about how the war had ended, but you knew the talk grew louder after it had. Gathering as much as the North had been defeated, usually only spoken about in shrewd and disgusting mockery of what became of the Stark corpses. Learning that the North was now held by Roose Bolton, a decision no doubt decided by Tywin Lannister you could only guess. Choosing men as heartless and cruel as he to hold the Lannister influence wherever they could get their hands on. 

It made your spine tingle, having a good sense of the kind of men loyal to Tywin. You knew Roose Bolton, since he had known your father. A man just as vile as the plethora of distantly related Lannisters who frequented your services. But you pushed it down. That wasn’t your life anymore. 

Arriving back at the brothel, you finally met the man so mysteriously spoken of, even by those in his employ. Walking in on the tail end of a discussion with Olyvar about preparations of some kind. You stayed close to a wall, Baelish hadn’t been here since you’ve arrived, but he was the one who brought you here, paid off your previous boss to bring you all the way to King's Landing for reasons never explained to you. They were reasons only he knew, and you had a strong suspicion he had no intentions of telling you outright. 

It was Armeca who spoke, bringing his gaze right in your direction. “Preparations for what?” 

Did that unnerving smirk ever leave his face? “For the wedding, of course. King Joeffry’s marriage to Margaery Tyrell is soon approaching, and we’ll need to be ready.”

Baelish had begun walking towards the two of you, but slowly, and not even in a straight path. As if he was toying with you by not just coming up to you directly. “Men all over the city will be busy, worked up, in need more than ever of some close company. But more importantly, visitors. Many head of houses will be making their way to the capitol to attend the wedding, and I need every one of you,” 

Finally coming up closer, he looked at you as he spoke. You hadn’t asked any question, but he answered almost to you as he invaded your personal space. “To be on alert at all times.” He looked at you, watching him with such a hard impassive face there was no mistaking you were trying to play a facade. “You never know what kind of men will walk through our doors in the upcoming weeks, you need to be prepared.” 

Finally he turned away. “All of you.” 

America has already left your side, but you stood there watching him as he turned his back to share some final words with Olyvar before leaving. As he faced your direction, you began to busy yourself, hoping to rush past in a display of needing to change into proper attire, but your arm was grabbed just as your body passed his. 

It was unclear if the look in your eyes was fear, anger, or shock, but that smirk on Lord Baelish's own face stayed all the same. “So good to have you here, my dear. I knew bringing you all the way to the city would work out just fine. “ 

His eyes locked with yours, until he let his hold on you go, and walked out. The girls were right, you were better off never speaking to him directly. Making your way to your quarters you were lost, distracted with uncovering what he meant. 

He couldn’t know. It was impossible. Baelish was the furthest option of anyone who could possibly recognize you, and yet, the way he looked at you, spoke to you. Spies all over the city for various individuals were commonplace in Kings Landing, but part of you wondered, how far did that network reach. Were you really brought here for this, or did he bring you here for something else entirely? 

If he knew who you were, no doubt there was some plan in his mind of how to use you, and the second he was ready to do it you might be trapped forever from making any free choice of your own ever again. If everything went according to plan, you felt terrified towards whatever intentions were in store for you. 

Only, no one’s plans were going to work out the way they wanted. Only one person’s plans would, and it would slowly unravel the very core of anyone you now, or will know. But, it was impossible for you to know that fate was even an option, it was a fate that would, in due time, shock everyone. But for now, you had work to do, you and the others all preparing yourself for a constant flow of brand new rich noblemen whom would continue to line Baelish’s pockets with gold. 

For a while, you found yourself catering to a variety of clientele making their way into the city for the Royal Wedding. Mostly thoughtless Lords looking to take advantage of having a beautiful woman in a luxurious bed. Sometimes married men who can now do whatever they desire with you, that their wives back home have no interest in, but all of whom have little to no interest in even learning your name. 

For a while, it almost felt like a kind of routine, a predictable round of clients coming in and out, so busy that only a few regular faces popping by in the business. The ones you know from multiple visits, commenting that most of the arrivals piled into the city at once, coming from nearby areas. Eager to take advantage of the festivities and attempting to schmooze their way into a closer seat to the crown during the celebration. 

The influx of people was enough for a while to distract you from your encounter with Little Finger. The constant demand of your attention taking the forefront of your mind, but it wouldn’t last forever. As the families closer to Kings Landing had settled in, there was less traffic of new faces as the further the House lived, the longer in between new people you began to see. 

During the early hours of the morning, sun just barely beginning to peek into the sky, pouring just enough light into your room to wake up your distracted mind, was when you had the thought. Standing by the window, a velvety sheet draped over your person, you thought of your home. A pang of nerves all set off at once, your body feeling a flow of anxiety as sharp as the strike of a match. 

He wouldn’t come here, would he? The ruling class here was unarguably Lannister, and his allegiance wouldn’t be brushed off lightly. Not by the hot tempered king, rife with anger and immaturity, and not by the hand of the king. Tywin, a man who only strikes against his enemies with patience and strategy, but aims to devastate when he does. Neither man would welcome him here at the drop of a hat, only willing to switch sides right before the one he started in, lost. Afterall, you had seen almost no Northern men since arriving in King's Landing. 

But it didn’t stop the fear. The growing anxiety of him finding you, how quickly he would drag you out into the streets, humiliate you for all to see. Would he draw the torture out? Bring you all the way back, just to execute you in the place and people you ran from? Or would his anger boil over and end you right there, leaving you in the dirty streets until someone had the decency to move your rotting corpse. 

Either was as likely as the other. The great shame finding you alive and hiding in a brothel in the capitol, the shame it would bring upon him that he failed so badly that keeping you alive would be out of the question. 

Afterall, your father was nothing but a cruel and sadistic man. Put your life on a cliifs edge when you threatened to expose the extent of his cruelness, and when that failed? When no one on your land or in the neighbouring towns could find a hint of you? He had declared you missing, and not long after that, dead. 

You couldn’t be sure why he had waited to declare you dead, when you knew he would never pretend like you were still alive. Maybe to buy him some time to come up with a plausible explanation to why they knew you were dead, but no body was seen and no funeral was held. By that point, you were too far away. You were already travelling south, and what he was saying about you didn’t matter. 

Did Little Finger know? Is that why he brought you here? He finds out the supposedly dead daughter of Lord is hiding with a new identity in a brothel, and brings you here to use as some kind of collateral or pawn in one of the many despicable plans he has? 

Little Finger hadn’t been around for days, and you hoped the much more interesting opportunity of manipulating the many fresh nobles and court members was a better priority. To the people of this city, you were no one. Just a soft face, seen only by rich men looking to fuck, and none of them cared enough to consider your existence beyond that. 

Well, no one cared, until more eyes than just the ever untrustworthy Little Finger, found yours. More eyes than had ever paid that kind of attention to you, and in ways much less sinister than those of your elusive boss. 

The day he arrived, you hadn’t even been aware of his presence until he had already caused a commotion. Too preoccupied with a more senior man, lonely and requesting one of the hot water tubs which rested in a private room with a closed door for client privacy. Not too demanding of a man, just a widowed gentleman looking for a woman to sit on his cock while giving him a gentle scrub while soaking in the warm water. By the time you had made your way into the main room, a trio of men arrived in the brothel, one of which had trained his eyes upon you almost instantly. 

It wasn’t uncommon as of late, for you to be placed near the entrance, welcoming the men coming in with your soft eyes and a gentle touch. You were told it helped make new visitors feel admired and wanted as they found their pick. 

Their early needs were quite simple, really. Leading them to a warm room, and letting them take a seat as you begun pouring drinks. One of them, quite touchy from the beginning. The other two men, bright eyes with smug, satisfied faces made passing comments. Nothing interesting or remotely new, just a back and forth as if you couldn't hear them making lewd comments about you. What others consider regular small talk, was typically replaced with just thirst and greedy touches in places like this. 

The third man has found his way behind you, one hand finding its way under the sheer, loose fabric covering your chest, while the other pulling your hips back into his own. “She’s such a gracious host isn’t she boys?” Chuckles followed, yours with a fake flattery meant to stroke an ego. “Woman like this? She definitely needs some one on one time, to thank her. Don’t you think so, sweetheart?” 

So, you had found the remaining pair, two young beauties, poured their drinks, and left them to their own devices. The two girls each sat in one of their laps. The door to the next room had only just shut, the man finding his own seat nearby and beckoning you to kneel between his legs. As you worked to undress his lower half, he boasted. Lamenting what a great opportunity it was for a girl such as yourself to be on your knees in front of a Lannister. 

Typical. You hadn’t the chance to meet many of them face to face since your arrival, but their presence left a smug trail anywhere they went. Proud and cocky, their family’s prominent rule on the Iron Throne no doubt left any relative in the house the desire to show off how appealing they were. The fact that you couldn’t even tell them what their names were was a big indicator of how unimportant they didnt realize they were. Not that you could ever think of saying it, but you out of all the working girls here, would be able to easily recognize someone of any actual significance. 

You worked him over with your hand as he spoke, the man’s ego not able to keep quiet enough to even let you just get to work. No, he wanted to keep your mouth free still, just so you could shower him with soft, wide eyed awe of his success and skill, the prowess all such men surrounding the family held. 

At first, the sound in the room next to you wasn’t enough to worry. A grunt or yell of some sorts had come from one of the men next door, not exactly tinted in something that screamed pleasure. It was enough for the both of you to cast your eyes to the door, but if there was speaking going on it was quiet enough that you couldn’t hear it through the door. 

The two girls leaving the room whispering urgently to each other as they left. One turned her head to look back at the shut door they came through, only to have the other tug her away out of sight before you could figure out the situation. Another grunt of what sounded much more like pain came through again. This time alerting the both of you enough that he had stood up from his seat. Eyes trained on the door, he gestured for you to silently tuck him back in before he took a step forward. 

Then a loud cry of clear agony let out, finding its way from your ears down into your heart as it began to pump with anxiety. It was more common that a girl would find herself on the end of that kind of pain, then a client. What on earth were the remaining pair doing in there?

An immediate answer found you as the two men from before came bursting through the door, one doubled over as if the other had to carry part of him out. Blood clearly spewing from his wrist and cries of pain coming out freely. Your own companion moved forward to hold onto the wound and made their way to leave, in discernible anger being muttered from one of the men as they left. 

Before the door could shut, you moved to step into its threshold to see what had even taken place. Blood on the table you had just set up, and a number of people standing in the middle of the room who you didn't normally see here. You could see Olyvar at the other end of the room, by the open hall watching carefully but also surprised at whatever had occurred before leaving the room.

You recognized the sound of Tyrion Lannister, you had never seen him here for sex by the time you arrived, but there had been more than one occasion he had to come in to get the guard typically by his side. You don’t remember his name though, you think Armeca was one of his regular girls. 

Then your eyes found them. How you could have possibly missed it before was beyond you, the tall pair in the middle, dressed in golds and orange standing out in the middle of the deeper, more muted colours draped around the room. One of them turning, his body now facing your view more clearly, as the woman behind him wrapping her arms around to follow. 

The man's voice is what really stuck out. “You don’t partake?”  You knew this accent, but it had been many years since you last heard one like it, and it didn’t quite place right away. 

“Oh, I partook. Now I’m married.” Sansa Stark, right. You had heard about after her fathers execution was announced, and rumours of her being held there by the Queen like a prisoner. And whispers followed through Westeros about her being forced into a marriage. Gods, she was still here even now. Married to Tyrion Lannister in some kind of cruel joke on both of them it seems. 

The man in gold, tall and broad from what you could see, with a handsome face to match, noting an angular nose framing him quite handsomely, In the moment, you weren't sure. But, clear dark eyes met yours for the briefest of seconds in the silence before Tyrion begun to speak again. 

“Prince Oberyn,” A cold shiver crept its way down your spine. That’s who this was. You knew this man, or at least, you knew of him by way of reputation. It was another Martell who you actually knew, it felt like a lifetime ago now or a different life to be more accurate. “If I may, a word in private?” 

There was a pause in his movements as he watched Tyrion closely, before separating from the woman behind him to follow the Lannister outside. You could only stand in your place, watching them leave. You didn’t know Tyrion, the whispers about him vary from place to place and person to person. 

He was a Lannister, a member of the most powerful, yet most hated family in the Seven Kingdoms. A family deeply hated by the very man he asked to speak with. On the other hand, he also was said to be smart, very smart, but very despised by his own family. The part of you inside, the one still alive deep down, couldn’t help but wonder what’s to come of that. The old person you once were finding itself lost in wonder of what Oberyn Martell’s presence meant to the Lannisters, and what Tyrion intended to get out of him. 

But, in this place, in this brothel that was not your place. Your only curiosity about the man should be if the rumours of the short Lannister’s prowess in bed was true. It should be on simply providing the Prince as quality of service as you can. Nothing more. 

Though maybe, not quite just those things. You hadn’t heard Tyrion's guard leave, too distracted by pushing down your true curiosities. That’s not surprising, you were never keen on making yourself available to him. He liked the sound of his voice so much that you’re not sure he ever shut up, and insultingly enough, you suspected you just weren’t small and petite enough for his taste. 

This woman in front of you, she was something else entirely. Like her lover, she was quite tall, with long curls falling down her back and the orange dress across her body soft and enticing. Her face though, was anything but soft. 

Neither was her voice. “Do all the girls here like to stare, or am I just special?” A smooth yet seductive tone to her voice matched with the sharp eyes trained on your person. 

Your body straightened up as you took a step further into the room, but her own feet moved faster. She hovered above you, eyes unblinking as she searched your person for something unknown. “I was going to apologize for such a mess being caused during a guest's stay, but something tells me you are used to things getting messy.” 

She’s hard to read, but you wonder if she was surprised in any way, her eyebrows raised almost in question as you slipped by her, making your way to the table to gauge how much blood there would be to clean. The silky accent followed in your path as you moved. “I would put all of the blame on my dear lover, but you cannot be with someone as long as we have had each other, without becoming just a little too much like them. If not just used to his temper.” 

Coming up to the table, she stood at the adjacent side and glanced down to the blood you were now moving one of the drinks away from. “This particular mess though, is Oberyn’s speciality, so in this case yes it is his fault.” She chuckled before grabbing the other drink to join the other you had moved. 

“And yours?” You were closer than she expected, seeing a sly glint in your eye the more she looked into them. 

“My what?” Her head tilted slightly, black curls falling over one shoulder slightly. 

Your hand raised up, letting her hair slip into a gentle grasp of your fingers, before sweeping them over the skin of her shoulder to put it back into place. You didn’t look back up as you said, too preoccupied with how she felt under your fingertips. “What kind of messes does a woman such as yourself leave?”  

That feeling sparked across your skin, following your veins and finding a home electrocuting your heat just a tad more, as her own hand took yours into hers. Placing it between both of hers as she turned your palm up and traced the lines laying there. “Only the kinds you could ever want.” 

Eyes widening playfully, mouth opening in a mock surprise. “That I could want? Last time I checked, my services haven’t been booked by any women such as yourself at the moment.” What was it about this woman that kept you speaking in such a free way? She drew you in, but almost like she was a mystery you intended to only unravel at your leisure. Not like a client wanting to appear mysterious simply as boast. 

Her head leaned into your personal space, her words lowering closer to something akin to a whisper. “And has it ever?” Your eyes squinted in question, the woman's hand coming up to trail down your cheek with the touch of a feather. “Has a woman ever had your time in such a way, little one?”  

It was a fight, keeping the pounding of your heart, the thrill of the unknown coursing through your body down and masked by a smirk. Leaning closer, sealing more of the shrinking gap between you. “Not many women in a place like this, other than to drag their husbands right back out.” 

Her curious smirk turned closer to a smile, “Is that why I get those stares? Because I'm usually the bad guy?” 

An actual laugh was finally brought out of you, you could lie and help make the girls she had already encountered look a little more confident, but a louder part of you couldn’t help but wonder if it was the truth she wanted more. So you gave it to her. “The girls stare at you honestly because you intimidate them.” You leaned back slightly to nod at the door you knew the Lannister men had run out of. “Usually orders from paying men are the only reasons women find any pleasure in each other. Most beyond that have no interest in it beyond satisfying the ome giving the gold. It’s your interest in them that the girls find intimidating.” 

Her coy but seductive gaze simmered down into one full of thought. Whatever she had been searching for in watching you earlier, had just deepened how hard she would have to look. “And what about you little one? How do you find me?” 

Your answer was as honest as you had been the entire conversation, and you think that honesty surprises her. “Intriguing. I find you intriguing.” 

Her hand that had traced a path on your cheek moved to run down the length of your hair, pulling a strand to her and laying it rest on your chest. Her hand kept its gentle grasp on the strands as it remained laying on you. “I expected someone as gentle and sweet looking as yourself, to be much more shy and timid. Especially with no experience with another woman.” 

Your hand reached to lightly grasp onto hers, your seductive role had begun finding its end. A much more genuine curiosity though, remained in its absence. “Maybe that’s normal for most girls like me. Afterall men who want me for such gentleness, usually want me quiet and meek to go along with it.”

Both your touches on the other remained, unmoving but not at all eager to let go. “Are you?” 

Softly you smiled, hoping the twinge of rushing emotion was held back, that the conflict you felt within didn’t show in your face. “Maybe if I were better at my job right now I would pretend to be.” 

This time when her head leaned back into yours, you didn’t follow in. The coy flirty games no longer feeling right here. This woman seemed to almost enjoy you being more genuine, but you didn’t understand why. Her hand moving back to your hair, grazing it with her fingers as her palm slipped over to lightly cup your cheek through her hold on your hair. “I prefer smart and honest over dumb and loose. What is your name, smart girl?” 

Lurching in your stomach felt so strong it almost jerked your entire body. Your real name almost bursted out of its own accord, but you forced it down. Sealing it inside you where it belonged. So told her a name, the one you had given the Madam of the previous brothel you had been to. The one where this new lie, this fake identity had taken hold. And you asked hers in return. 

Her deep eyes were a trap, so full of life and emotion swirling through the gorgeous colours. Losing your gaze so quickly in their hold, it took you a few seconds to realize that not only had she answered, but that the answer didn’t actually come out of her mouth. 

No, the answer had come from the same deep toned voice from before. A voice you hadn’t even realized was back in the room or even when he had returned. 

“Ellaria Sand. My paramour.” Both your heads turned to see Oberyn approaching. Yellow robes, rich in colour matching that of the sun, and a chain laying down across his chest holding a symbol you could not quite make out. A strong chest leading up to broad shoulders which held themselves high. 

A confidence radiated from him, but also seemed to also withhold some tension. A steeled gaze as he watches you detach your grasp from Ellaria completely. “Prince Oberyn, forgive me I was simply apologizing to the lady for such an unpleasant greeting upon your arrival.” 

Oberyn Martell was a difficult man to read, while his face seemed to look impassive as he spoke, his eyes very much felt like his companions had. Deep, thoughtful and seemingly trying to figure something out which you did not know. “What unpleasantness?” 

Beside you, Ellaria could be heard chuckling as Oberyn gestured to the table you stood by, “A small amount of Lannister blood spilt is nothing to feel upset about, quite the opposite in fact.”

A challenging look, eyebrows raised as he seemed to wait for your response. Gauging how such a comment would make you feel. You were in a land ruled by Lannisters, afterall. “I simply meant that it is my apologies that such a confrontation even occurred.” 

You were tight, formal, polite borderlining on controlled, not quite what a regular working girl in a brothel would concern herself with, and it seems both saw right through it. Oberyn’s chuckle matched that of his lover. “I told her when one is around you long enough, it’s something you get used to.” 

Their eyes spoke another language to each other, while their words said otherwise. Both had moved to you rather than returning to the others arms. Ellaria simply being closer, getting there first, this time her hand giving a deliberate show of finding a home in the strands of your hair.  Oberyn mocking a betrayed gasp, “Already discussing her opinion about me?”

Her smooth hand found the bottom of your chin, bumping it up to look at her face with little force. “Or just warning her of your antics,” Her own eyes moving from that of her lovers, to a softened but introspective look watching your own face. “This one’s different, aren’t you little one?”

“You are the guest, there’s no need to flatter me. I’m the one who should be buttering you up to sway you to buy my own services.” 

Ellaria’s grasp on you suddenly passed over to that of the Prince. His hold on you, quite different. Having his eyes on yours is just as appealing, but somehow holding an intensity toy had never experienced before. “It is not flattery if it is true, no?” 

You opened your mouth, expression turning to the side as if to hide from his gaze, but he interrupted whatever your inevitable denial would be. “I sense there is a complicated mind behind all of this,” his hand moved to cup the side of your styled hair up in the air. “What's your name?” 

Unlike Ellaria, telling Oberyn your made up name seemed to be the wrong answer. Brows furrowed with Oberyn's squint as he looked at you more closely. Saying your name out loud, as if to test whether or not it matched what stood in front of him. For now, it seemed to pass.

Oberyn moved around you, keeping his eyes trained, never leaving yours as he stood behind Ellaria, pulling her back into his chest, mouth finding her ear, “Tell me what you are thinking, my love.” 

Like an attracted magnet, her arms reached to return his embrace, their eyes watching yours with thoughts you were not privy to. “I think you, my dear, are far more interesting than any of the mindless girls we were shown before.” 

You shook your head, but one of her arms pulled you close, as if to bring you into her own arms. “I wouldn’t be so quick to turn them away, the girls and men here are all quite beautiful-” 

Ellaria’s smile was honest but also a tad coy as she pulled you the rest of the way to stand in her personal space, her arm moving to trace down your neck and collarbones, the other still firmly in Oberyn's grasp. “Every brothel has beautiful people, that's not much of a selling point. You though, your interesting, and that’s far more unique. And like he said, my name is Ellaria, not my lady."

Footsteps approached the room as Olyvar returned. He spoke, but kept his gaze curious onto the scene in front of him rather than looking directly at the Oberyn as he spoke. “My apologies for the delay,” He seemed to slow his words as he spoke, as if trying to figure out what he was watching. “I have had all the necessary arrangements made for both of your stays, if you woul-” 

Oberyn’s voice commanded out, like Ellaria, watching you while speaking to another. “I appreciate your efforts, but our plans have changed.” He said your name, and finally turned to look at Olyvar, “I presume she has other work, but I would request her company be made available to myself and Ellaria during our stay.” 

Your surprise matched Olyvars. “That can be arranged, but we do have a wide variety of quite experienced girls and boys to match either of your needs.” It wasn’t meant to be insulting, you understood Olyvar’s intention. You were still new here, more soft and quiet then other girls and he likely assumed the appetite of Prince Oberyn and Ellaria would require more than what he presumed you could provide. But you still felt it, the attention so dedicated to you leaving you feel, warm. Almost like a tingle of curious excitement. 

Oberyn moved from Ellaria to you, his hands grazing over her body as he stepped in front of you directly. “That won’t be necessary, my paramour and I have all we need right here don’t we?” 

Ever in sync, Ellaria now moved to hold onto Oberyn's back as he did hers. “More than enough.” Turning to face Olyvar, “She will need some of her things moved into where we are staying. I have a feeling she will be spending quite a bit of her time,” Ellaria looking back at you, her tone shifting to sound almost amused. “Entertaining the two of us, won’t you, little one?” 

You and Olyvar looked at each other for a moment, neither of you finding suspicion or any kind of uncertainty in the other. It seems the Dornish couple’s decisions have taken both of you by surprise. So he nodded, calling your name. “I will have some of your necessities moved to their room, if that is alright with you.” 

At least Olyvar also was for hire here, so he understood the rareness of being exclusively asked for by two people for an unspecified number of days, let alone when one of them is a Prince. Both of you knew Little Finger would have simply demanded it regardless of your comfort. You knew you were okay with this arrangement, but you appreciated a small check of your concern from him. So you nodded in affirmation to him, before looking back to the man in front of you. “Who am I to deny a Prince of what he asks of me?” 

He chuckled, his hand trailing down your side almost innocently, before moving to push the small of your back into Ellaria. “Show her the way, my love. We have a very exciting few days ahead of us, I imagine.” 

Guided by Ellaria’s touch, more smooth and warm than the intense watchful eyes of her companion following behind. Ellaria’s arms wrapped around yours as she walked, telling you of the Dornish amenities they have brought with them, boasting of how much better quality wine and food are from Dorne than the drab and somewhat tasteless food this city can provide. The entire time, Oberyn was watching. Tickling the back of your mind the spark of doubt you had been feeling as of late. The prick of anxiety that if Oberyn didn’t seem to know who you are now, he would take great time and lengths to figure it out. 

While you recognized the room they were staying in, you simply hadn’t spent much time in it. It's large, with one large bed with silky sheets and plush pillows strayed about it, deep maroons, purples, and shades of blue matching the drapes on the windows, giving it an air of dark privacy that other rooms did not normally have. It wasn’t unknown for the more wealthy of clients to be able to afford longer stays. Usually men of high houses who didn’t want to be kept in the stuffy air and watchful eyes of the Red Keep. 

You knew the brothel itself held more than one person acting as spies for the various players in the city, but you assumed it was a safer gamble to bet on for a Martell than to stay in the Red Keep where almost every person inside watches some and reports to others. 

There hadn’t been a guest like that in the few months you had been here, but you never expected any stay you’d have in it would be with an unbelievably beautiful woman and a Prince as her companion. Some of their things already finding a home amongst the room, you wonder how early in the day they had arrived. Clearly keeping a quiet profile at first, you had been awake since the sun had also awoken, and you never saw or heard of their arrival. That is, until the draw of confronting a Lannister drew the Viper from his Den. 

While Oberyn spoke, it was Ellaria who kept an arm linked with yours, bringing you around the room with her, the other arm slinked behind your back to hold your waist as she directed you. “You are welcome to anything in this room that we also have, you are not being bought as a prisoner to us, you are free to do whatever you like. As long as it is our company that you return to, instead of whatever spoiled men tries to throw his money at you.” 

Ellaria chuckled in your ear, turning your body to face the Prince as she wraps her own body around the back of yours, “He is either quite brave or quite foolish to speak about your own city men in such a way.” You could not see hers, but by the way Oberyn's own eyes glint at her with a mock offence drenched in a playful familiarity, you begin to assume she is the only one who has the bravery and freedom to tease him so openly. 

“I see right through your games.” His chuckle fades into the sounds of his footsteps as he approaches. While Ellaria keeps a hold on your waist, Oberyn's own hand traces circles around your hip, before leaning into your shoulder blade to find her face. “Were she not trying to impress you, my beautiful paramour would have no qualms about telling me about how utterly foolish she thinks I am.” 

While their own lips met, Ellaria’s hold on you tightened, and Oberyn's hand found a grip on your hip, the other cupping the side of your face. Separating after just a quick kiss, Oberyn tilted his head so his lips were at your ear. “You are a smart girl though, little one. If you think me foolish I expect you to come to that conclusion on your own, not by the tempting words of a manipulative woman.” 

Ellaria responds by pulling you from his hold entirely, the hands on your waist, now across your torso and stomach keeping you away. “If I am the manipulative one, then what does that make you?” Leaning her lips onto the top of your head, she almost started to laugh with her words, “Oberyn is the one who demanded all of your time to himself, I would have asked before making such a request.” 

Both laughed together, as your mind started to wander. You needed to remind yourself what you were here for, what they are buying you for. It had been so easy to lose yourself in their gentle touches and laughter, but they bought you for a reason. 

Your eyes casting back and forth between them, before moving your hands to slip off the light and translucent fabric over your shoulders and down your arms, a pounding heartbeat conflicting with your mind telling you this is all you’re here to be. It didn’t get far, Ellaria’s hands slid to your arms, pulling the fabric back up in place as her smooth palms trail over your skin. 

Oberyn stepped forward, to catch your hands, holding them in the air with an eyebrow raised, waiting for you to begin lowering your arms back down to relax before he let you go. Ellaria’s hold behind you became less possessive and playful, finding a new hold on you around your shoulders with one palm still pressed against the crease between your dress and shoulder. Oberyn tilted your head up to look at him. “I appreciate the eagerness, but this is not why we brought you here.” 

The conflict in your mind started to feel silenced as the pounding of your heart grew louder and faster. “You mean, you’re not interested in-” 

Fingers tracing over your cheeks, his eyes cast down to follow the path he made, the air of play in his presence giving way to something more inward and thought filled. “Oh we are, sweet girl I assure you. That is not the problem.” 

Ellaria was the one to finish his thought process. “We want to spend time with you, for you to spend time with us, talking, laughing, getting to know our little world here more than just what happens between those sheets.” 

Finally her body moves from yours, giving you the physical space to accompany your thoughts. “Why me though? Why choose me out of all the-” 

Oberyn’s voice smaller, less demanding of attention to its tone, lowering down to a much calmer, more personable level. “They are all beautiful and eager to serve, yes. But you are interesting. You fascinate not just me, but Ellaria as well.” His hand finally cups the side of your face entirely, thumb only stroking back and forth lightly as he finds your eyes. “It’s rare to find someone who fascinates both of us so deeply. I requested all of your time, because I want the time and freedom to discover why.” 

It tempted you in a way more than anyone else had ever tempted you in the year and a half you had been this new person. It had been even longer, since anyone had shown you such decency and interest as you as a human being. Maybe it was going to be a mistake, allowing yourself to get attached to two people who inevitably were going to go back to their home and their lives without once this celebration is over. Oberyn voiced one last draw to the offer. “There is nothing we will ask of you in your time with us, other than giving us the chance to strip all of this away.” He gestured around the room, gesturing to the kind of building you were in and what you were supposed to be. 

He tapped the side of your head with his other hand. “What’s in here is far more endearing than what is expected of you.” 

Ellaria was sat on the edge of the bed now, palms braced behind her as she watched closely, watching for the signs of hesitancy or even discomfort that Oberyn may have missed standing so close. “Anything physical with us is incidental. We don’t want you to feel pressured into performing simply because you are normally paid to fuck us. If you want to, it needs to be because you want us. Not because you think you should.” 

Chest rising up and down with an audible deep breath, your mind outweighing the cons of how alone you will be back to existing once they leave, with the pros of how genuine they were speaking. So just maybe, you chose the wrong decision. You nodded. 

Oberyn’s grip on your face pulled you back to look his way. “Outloud. If you are truly okay with this, I need you to tell us. Tell me. Outloud.” 

Doubling down on the bad decisions, that's what you knew you were about to do, and yet, you did it anyway. You jumped into the freezing water with little knowledge of how you were going to swim to the surface. Your hand reached up and held his, your own thumb finding comfort in swiping back and forth against his own skin. “I would like that.” 

Oberyn smiled, and beyond your eyesight so did Ellaria. The pounding of your heart knocking out all other noises as Oberyn leaned into your face close, only for his lips to press against your other cheek. Finally he moved, pushing the small of your back to a table near the back of the room. “Sit, sit. I will get you a drink, I don’t imagine many men in Kings Landing bother to just allow a beautiful woman the courtesy of enjoying a drink with them like an equal.” 

As he begins pouring, Ellaria joins you at the table, the smile on her face light. Little emotion hidden behind it beyond a genuine content. “We have our own wines. You people have absolutely no taste, so we had Dornish wine brought in specifically.” 

Goblets appear in front of your persons, as Oberyn takes the other seat, leaning back with as much a light casualness as his paramour. You tried to match, trying to feel alright with just being yourself here, but you needed time, and you had a feeling neither would rush you into it. 

Oberyn watches you take your first sip, and his next words have a smile attached to them as he watches your surprised expression before eagerly taking another sip. “We have some food, our true delicacies don’t travel as well, but we certainly have enough to prove that the people in the capitol have absolutely no taste buds.” 

You laugh at yourself, as Ellaria comes to your defence “Careful lover, you keep that attitude up and our little bird may start feeling offended that you’re just insulting her home.”  

Oberyn found your eyes again, that squinting analytical expression returning. As if he is once again challenging what your response may be, and you still, aren’t quite sure as to why. But you give an answer that is as honest as you can compose. “I’ve only been here a few months, the food where I was born wasn't much better than here.” 

Oberyn leaned back in his seat, watching you with those challenging eyes “And where would that be?”  He says your name in a question as well, as if your identity was a part of it. 

So you just smirked into your goblet, “If I gave everything away right away, there wouldn’t be any mystery to uncover would there?” 

Ellaria chuckled beside you as she tells you she agreed. Oberyn watches for a moment, “All in good time. I have all the time I need to unravel such a mystery.” He takes another sip of his own drink, before the conversation flows in a different direction. Giving you the time to relax more into getting used to them as the hours of the afternoon begin to tick away. 

With the wedding rapidly approaching, it seemed more people grew tense rather than having the growing excitement of a celebration. Perhaps it was due to the unfavourable attitude King Joffery was so infamous for, perhaps it was the growing frustration of having so much nobility all in one place trying to buy favours with the crown, but you suspected otherwise. 

It was easy at first, hardly feeling like work. Oberyn and Ellaria were fascinating people with rich and wild lives, yet they also found tons of entertainment in the small, almost domestic stories you had to offer. Like the difference in scale of your lives actually made for a complimentary contrast, as opposed to highborns looking down on you for not living like they do. 

Oberyn especially captured your keen eye, a man who holds himself so differently than both men here, and from your own home. He was unashamed of his honestly, and didn’t yield it like a weapon. Sure, there were darker aspects about him that shine through his sheer intensity, but you never got the sense that what he was presenting you with, was anyone other than his real self. He’s not just an act to play with those around him. 

The downside was that he was also interested in pulling that real side out of you. Seeing hints of a much more reserved but polite version of what you should put out to other clients. The first time seeing the Prince without much in the way of clothes on, your guard had been so let down that your instant response was to turn and apologize immediately. 

His deep chuckle only added to the embarrassment flooding your body. “While I appreciate the respect for my privacy, there’s nothing here to hide, I assure you.” 

Slowly turning around, a small smile forming on your face was currently covered up poorly by your fingers casually resting on your mouth almost as cover. I-Shock and embarrassment probably isn’t the reaction you’re used to when getting walked in on, I imagine.” 

As you start to walk into the room proper, you could see Ellaria where she sat clearly trying not to laugh solely at Oberyn's expense. Not fooled for a moment, the two shared a playful glare as he passed her by. Pants on, but not fully done up, giving you a teasing glint of skin and coarse hair if you looked lewdly down further. His broad size and penetrating gaze though, kept your attention. 

“Embarrassed because I’m nothing like what you were expecting compared to your usuals, or shocked because I am?” He was broad and clearly strong, sure. His shoulders and arms radiated strength, but his chest and stomach were much less showy. Scars and faded marks are etched into his skin, and his stomach softer almost like a normal man not trying to show off.

Your hand reached out to trace one scar which caught your eye, and trailed down to the softer skin below. An innocent touch of curiosity, instead of a teasing path with a more direct destination in mind. “It’s just..nice.” His eyebrows raised in curiosity as you continued. “For someone everybody talks about being a feared warrior or an intimidating force, it’s just nice to know that while handsome, you still look like most normal men.” 

Oberyn grasps your hand in his, while his eyes watch yours, he slides your hand down just a smidge. Your fingers touch the very edge of his pants, threatening to dip them inside, before suddenly moving it the opposite way. Up in the air until he could kiss your hand, then pulled you alongside him to where he previously stood. 

Gently helping assemble his clothes should have felt like simple servant work. Oberyn though, would softly take over your task so you could move onto the next part, working in tandem. Almost feeling domestic of sorts. 

As he turns to face you, you look over him to make sure everything is in place, as your palms smooth down his chest to ensure his robe sits cleanly. All you did was compliment him, saying how well the colours match him. 

Oberyn threading through strands of your hair as he looks over your own dress in the same fashion. Rich and low he smiles slightly as his fingers holding your hair also trace your cheek. “One day we’ll get you clothes that look more like ours. Dorne would suit you much more than this place I'm sure.” 

You brushed it off. You loved the whites, and yellows, and oranges both of them were draped in compared to the dark and muted tones so common here and further North. He didn’t mean anything more than wondering what you’d look like in them was all it was. 

Eventually each night ticked closer to the day of the wedding, but you still found yourself crawling away from the warmth radiating from the couple. You had a welcome place in bed with them, and they were happy to pull you into their arms like they do each other, but once they were asleep you always slid over to be alone. They were kind, but sleeping in such an affectionate and intimate way with two people who would always have each other, and eventually forget you, kept your mind awake to wander until it inevitably got you out of bed to stand alone in thought. 

The lesson you learned the quickest since arriving in King's Landing, was that most of the major players here had a wide reach of eyes and influence. It seemed every other person was some kind of watchful spy for someone else, and the growing whispers passing around gave you the sense of plotting. Like the different persons being reported to all had their own plans setting into place around such a major event. Workers in the brothel always seemed to either be writing something in secret, or scurrying off at odd hours of the day to report to somebody else. 

You were pretty sure you had figured out who reported to who though, some were more obvious spies then others, but then again, a house of whores was not known for their subtlety and subterfuge.

The growing wound at the back of your head seemed to fester more every day, the anxiety of why you were brought here. A paralyzing, sleep disruptive fear that Little Finger had brought you here for a reason, and left you working and waiting until his use for you finally reached its need. If he knew who you were, then someone must have been watching you since you had at least been hiding in The Riverlands.

Too many voices floating around in your head to stay asleep. If he knew, did one of his own spies in this very building have eyes on you right now, did they know why they watched you or were they just told to do as he says? 

Push it down, you thought to yourself. Focusing on this was a bad idea, the anxiety would only spread if you did. Instead your gaze remained out the window, as your mind tried to focus on watching the tiny but of morning sun reach the cramped and filthy streets below it. You knew you were being watched at this very moment, but you were fairly certain there were no malicious intents from the watcher this time. 

Ellaria had a warm presence as she found her way next to you. Both in body, the heat from the warm Dorne sun must be trapped under her very skin, as the air beside you felt warm as she approached. Also though, in her very person. Her radiance was calm, unrushed, and almost cozy, as if the happenings around her did little to even attract her attention. 

Her voice, muttered quietly in the early hours of the morning, felt just as calm. “If sleeping in the same bed that me and Oberyn keeps making you uncomfortable-” 

Your head shook as you interrupted her. “No, no, please. You’re the guests. This is a brothel and you are lovers in a bed that you paid for. What you choose to do in it has nothing to do with me being comfortable.” 

You couldn’t see if her eyes were on you or if they were watching the same drab view of the city as you were. “Does it?” That made you turn to her first, her gaze only moving to yours as you turned to face her first. “Make you uncomfortable?” 

Her sharp features felt somehow soft as she watched you, eyes searching for an answer, not judging, but in a curious sense. They were intense though, consuming your focus like looking at her for too long would cause you to get lost, so you turned your head abruptly. Taking a deep breath as you pulled the thin shawl over your shoulders more. “Uncomfortable is the wrong word. I’m..not quite sure what it is. Being so close to your and Oberyn’s intense little world. As if knowing you are sharing this part of yourselves with me is a strange feeling. I don’t know. Real intimacy is just, it’s strange to me I guess. That’s all.” 

Ellaria knew that was not quite as honest an answer as she wanted to hear, but it was early. Not just in hours, but in your time together. Ellaria preferred to patiently wait outside of the gates, giving you the time you need to make your way down the steps to unlock them. She wants to know you in many ways, but parts of you were closed off, and she was happy to take her time making her way past that. 

Sparing a moment to turn her head, Ellaria watched her lover still laying out underthe sheets. One of the few times his intensity was nowhere to be found. Glancing back at you though, Ellaria knew Oberyn’s approach was not quite the same. Oberyn was smart, and cunning but his nature was much more aggressive. She knew what he was feeling when he declined the other offers in favour of you. So many years together they could communicate through very little, so he knew they felt the same thing. But then that brash, bold nature of his suddenly bought out your entire company for their stay rather than letting her join in on the prospects the pair had already started to seek out amongst the other workers. 

She knew Oberyn well enough to tell that there was something else in his mind about you. Ellaria was more direct and simple. You were beautiful, you looked at her and spoke to her in such a genuine way she had not seen from girls in places like this, there was something about who you were behind the sultry dress and the painted features trying to force you to look just like all the other average pretty whores in here. Who you were on the inside was far more fascinating to Ellaria than the dozens of the small staured, pale girls with the same kind of boring pretty faces willing to do whatever she wanted for the money she offered. 

She had been lost in thought for longer then she suspected, your continued solemn silence feeling more anxious than calming. “That still doesn’t explain why you are wide awake long before anyone else in this building has even opened their eyes.”

Her voice was far away. Were you not close enough to see her long curls loose and flowing, or the beautiful almost pastel colour of the robe she had slipped on, you would have thought there were mountains between you. “I don’t sleep well. Never have.” 

You spared a glance at her, those curious eyes now deep and almost with concern, as if that small response had found something upsetting within her. You couldn’t afford that though, not today. It was too busy today, and too many people in the city to watch all at the same time. You didn’t want Ellaria and Oberyn to be watched for simply being concerned for the feelings of a meaningless whore they hired, whatever you were being watched for, you didn’t want them to be watched for it as well. 

You finally turned your body to her, a small on your face not reaching your eyes, as you gently pushed her back towards the lush bed. “You should get some more rest while you can, you’ll want as much time as you can to get ready.” 

Before her legs could touch the sheets, she turned back to you, cupping the side of your face with a smirk “Why is that? Because all of these highborn women will expect me to spend the kinds of hours on my look as they do theirs?” 

A real laugh finally came out of you, quiet and soft, but genuine, Playfully shoving her hand off of your face you turned her around to the bed, slipping the silky robe off of her once more. “Please you could walk into this wedding right now and look better than any other woman there.” 

Finally you turned to gather some of your own things, ready to take a few moments to wash away the anxiety trapped in your skin before anyone else woke up. “Getting ready is just to prepare yourself for an entire day of dull and uptight Lords all trying to look and act the most impressive.” 

Ellaria laughed as she found her way onto the sheets, making your way to step out. You assuree her once more before slipping quietly out the door. “Trust me, there’s nothing more boring than listening to the Lords and men of the Crownlands all try to pretend they are the most successful House.” 

Just as you shut the door, quiet as possible to not to wake the still sleeping Prince, Oberyn had quietly shifted enough to sit upright, pulling Ellaria up against his chest. Her arm reached up behind her to find a home behind his neck, “I’ve never met someone who works in a place like this honestly confess that she doesn’t understand intimacy.” 

Oberyn, tracing the skin of her stomach he also nudged at the side of her neck to make a spot for himself, began to trace a path on her neck with the tip of his nose before following that same path back down with gentle presses of his lips. “It’s not that she doesn’t understand intimacy, I think she just has genuinely never experienced it.” 

Ellaria’s free hand rested on the forearm across her, caressing the skin as she watched the closed door. “So, what a quiet little poor girl growing up in the Riverlands just decides to sell her body for money, something she is not comfortable with, over any of the other things she could have succeeded as?” 

She didn’t know what kind of things were going through Oberyn's mind, but she suspects he seems to know something she doesn’t. He'll tell her on the way today no doubt, but his answer makes that suspension almost certain. “Her accent is Northern. Or at least, she's trying not to sound like she is. Nothing like the daughter of a Maidenpool fisherman.”

Oberyn moved his lips to the top of her head, pulling her closer into his chest, wanting to lull her back to sleep. “She’s used to telling that lie to brainless men only half listening to her long enough to get her clothes off. Usually they aren’t there long enough to care."

Turning more into his chest, Ellaria felt the pulls of sleep draw her back in. “Why lie to us though? Why not tell the truth when she knows we want to hear it?” 

Oberyn was now much more awake than his paramour, it was going to be an eventful day afterall, and now he was adding a tactful plan to broach the subject to his list of ongoing affairs in this wretched city. Watching Ellaria’s eyes slip shut, breathing softening as she let sleep bring her under once more before his eyes darkened. Watching the door for how long you would take to return. “People only lie about being so unimportant when they are trying to hide, and to her? Kings Landing is the worst place to start telling the truth.” 

He got no response, keeping her in his arms, feeling the rise and fall of her chest move with his, but his eyes still watching the door. As if the solution would come right through it. This early wasn't the time to start. He had been awake when he noticed you slip out of the bed, covering yourself up from a cold that did not exist, trying to hide in the material as if it would protect you from whatever you were looking for in the streets. 

He would think it through more. A better plan laid out more carefully, Oberyn needed to make sure he did not scare you off before he could settle you. You would take your time getting ready for the day, and then begin to assist reading he and Ellaria for the wedding. You would not come yourself in any way, he already knew that. Ellaria likely would make a plea for her to be your escort as Oberyn is hers. He had already seen on a previous day another girl, Kayla, begged you to join her as she made a performance at the reception, even just to watch but you had adamantly refused. 

Oberyn knows you would not risk being so out in the open around that many key figures. For you, that would be too risky. He would though, selfishly he knew, request you not take any of the scattered clientele that may make their way in during the day. Getting you to open up to them would not be made any easier by the constant onslaught of being poorly fucked by the uncaring brutes slinking through these doors.

What he did not plan for, was the events of the wedding itself. The events of the wedding would, in fact, drastically alter any of the set plots in motion for the people of King's Landing.

Your plans for the day had actually been quite simple. You took some time to yourself, walking through a market with more ease than there would be on a normal day. No doubt people all over were flocking to the Red Keep trying to get a glimpse of the ceremony, catching what small glimpses of the royals that they could. 

You had never attended a wedding, but nothing about it seemed particularly endearing. Maybe part of it was you never quite felt comfortable in large crowds, but watching two people become bonded under the eyes of the Seven wasn’t really what you would call entertainment, and the reception didn’t seem better. Too much drinking, too much posturing to the married Lord and Lady to look impressive, and you didn’t even want to think about the bedding ceremony. 

You figure someone such a the King, especially one with the attitude of Joffrey, likely wouldn’t allow that for himself, even though you had heard some pretty nasty rumours that he tried to force his own Uncle into it. For brief moments your mind wandered to Sansa Stark. She would never know it, but you and her seemed to have some things in common. Two women finding themselves trapped from ever going home, stuck in King's Landing to just be used as pawns for whatever games the biggest players had in mind for you. Though you’re not quite sure who got the worst end of the bargain.

Most of the regulars in both brothels you had worked in were content with what they did, but selling yourself for money was supposed to just be something to hide you until you got yourself together, figured out a better place to go, how to get there, who to be when you arrived. But you were stuck, being able to only make just enough gold to pay your dues, not enough to buy a new life. Then they arrived, men with swords claiming to work for House Baelish, and now you were here. 

Walking through the streets of Kings Landing, living life on a cliffs edge wondering how long it will take before someone figures out who you are, and what they would do with that information. At least all of the Lord’s were at the royal wedding, at last you had that few hours to look through the market in quiet peace. 

Wedding festivities are long, typically beginning in the warm afternoon and only coming to a close in the hours of the night when the wine ran dry. There weren’t many clients in the building, a few girls gone to accompany Kayla in her performance. No doubt bringing back a number of men looking to take advantage of her unique talents and whomever else they could throw their gold at. 

But that’s not what happened. In fact, Kayla arrived back soon after her performance, rushing into the door in a total state. Horrified eyes wide open, panting so hard you thought she may faint. And a rushed, frantic tale, of a dead King. 

We all gathered around her, listening to her talk about these, rather unfunny sounding skits making fun of the dead Starks that had won them the war, Joffrey in an unusual state of cruelty as he publicly humiliated Lord Tyrion for the entire crowd to watch. The tears came back, two of the other girls rushing to Kayla’s side, simply trying to calm her down enough to speak through the shock. Then she tells of the King drinking from his wine, and choking on it. Falling to the ground as Lady Cersei rushed to his side as, from what Kayla had claimed, his skin turned purple and bled from his face before everything stopped. 

Cersei having ordered the guards take Tyrion away for the crime, on what basis you weren’t sure, Kayla was too upset. She was brought to a private room to calm down after that, and everyone broke up. Clients leaving to confirm the tale, and little groups whispering about the horrors just heard. 

You and Olyvar were left standing alone in the main room. There was an air between you two, like an electric charge sparkling between you, but in a doubt. You both looked at each other for some moments, eyes far away and trying to put the pieces together, but both of you were unsure of how to say it. You took the bait first. “Why would Lord Tyrion want to make the King choke in front of all those people?” 

Olyvar looked at you, and then around the room. Taking a step closer, you leaned in to match as his own voice came out in more of a whisper. “The man is bold, but not stupid. Public murder doesn’t seem like quite his taste.” 

There was something neither of you were saying, something neither of you were quite brave enough to risk in front of the other. “What has Lord Baelish been so busy with, Olyvar?” 

His head tilted, eyes narrowing at the question, but answered regardless. “He's been busy preparing for an extended trip out of the city.” 

You didn’t move a muscle as you spoke, as if moving too quickly would spook him from this dangerous path you two were on. “Did he say where to or why?” 

He didn’t move either. “No. I tell him everything, he tells me very little, and in return I get to run his business for not asking why.” 

Both of you knew neither was going to say it, or ask it. It didn’t add up exactly, but there were enough questions between you two that a seed of doubt was still there. Would he risk all of his other agenda’s for it? You didn’t know. “Why did he bring me here, Olyvar?” 

He didn’t answer, but his silence was an answer itself. You raised your chin, chest rising with a deep breath before nodding. Your face turning impassive and small as if your head could shake the doubt out of existence. “I will need one of the girls to join me in preparing food for the evening. I won’t presume our usual outside assistance will be available as usual.” 

Olyvar’s face matched you. Impassive and forcing a professional appearance. “I’ll get one of the younger ones to help you. The King was close to their age, I imagine they could use the distraction.” 

Turning to leave, you both had only made it a number of steps before you called his name out. “Since their arrival, how much have you told to Lord Baelish?” You weren’t mad about it, spying was just a part of his life now. He spies on others, and you, and in return he gets the freedom to run Baelish’s brothel instead of taking orders all day. 

His answer though, surprised you. He gaze cast downwards, looking almost sheepish, unsure of himself. Sighing and looking up to you again, a kind fondness for this strange friendship between you two. “Not as much as I’m supposed to.” 

Hearing approaching steps, a soft smile formed on your lips. Olyvar gave one in return before nodding as he left the room. Maybe you should be angry knowing he is spying on you, knowing that Little Finger is holding your identity hostage as he figured out what to do with you. But you can’t blame Olyvar for that, he had shown you nothing but kindness, both in kinship but also in a degree of silence. 

He could have told him the extent to which you had been spending time with Oberyn Martell and his paramour, telling Baelish how suspicious it was that all the Dornish Prince had asked of you was company instead of sex. You’re not sure why he wouldn’t just tell him that, or how that knowledge figured into Baelish’s plan, but with the murder of the King, all you knew is that something was brewing in the distance. 

Ellaria was the first one back, you were already in their room when she arrived. Everyone was in such a strange variety of emotions, that honestly you couldn’t handle it. You were tidying up, sweeping, cleaning dust, making sure all the sheets were fresh. Monotonous work that could distract you enough until the door opened. 

If you were completely honest, you did briefly forget that she was at a wedding where a teenage boy choke to death. You had seen her off, helped her get ready, but enough hours had passed that you forgot the beauty. Her dress was long, down to her legs, covering her arms but the torso left open, shrinking in size until reaching her navel. An almost gold tinted chest covering underneath but showing off the smooth skin underneath. 

Quickly you regained your senses, placing the folded sheets to be washed down onto the ground as you rushed to her. She met you halfway, both catching the other in your arms as you looked her over much closer now, “I heard what happened, the King,” you stammered off looking her over as if she were the one in danger before slowing down. Your hands raised to hold the sides of her now much more solemn face. “Are you alright, you would have been right there,” 

Ellaria raised her own hands to hold onto yours, moving one off of her and bringing your hand in for a kiss, keeping it tucked against the exposed skin of her chest. “I am perfectly fine, I promise.” 

You nodded, worry in your eyes starting to fade a bit, as you ushered her over to a plush seat near the window. “Sit, please.”

Continuing to flutter around her you moved your broom and cloth out of view into a small alcove where some shelves just large enough to fit such supplies sat hidden from client view. 

“Wait, what about,” You looked towards the door, shut firmly and silent behind it as you made your way around to her. “Where’s Oberyn?” Ellaria grabbed your wrist, gently pulling you enough to look at her with a small shush. Though you implored her to sit back down, you didn’t remove her hand on you. 

“He is perfectly fine. He sent me back as he stayed behind to..watch things.” Looking off towards nowhere, her attention moved far off, “It was quite an awful scene.” You cupped her cheek to look at you, as you knelt down just enough to look her closer in the eye. “The Lannisters were in quite a state,” looking you in the eye she relaxed a bit more. “Oberyn didn’t want me anywhere near their wrath, Lady Cersei herself was rather angry and hysterical. Losing her child like that." 

You nodded, before sliding behind her. A hand stroking over the skin of her neck as you began to undo the beautiful, ornate headcovering, which you were pretty sure matched her chest covering. You took your time, making sure you didn’t snag a strand of her thick curls in with the metal. “I can only imagine. Kayla was..very distraught when she returned. We could only just get her to calm down enough to tell us he choked.” 

Ellaria grabbed a hand of yours, pulling it away from her hair as she held it closer to her heart. Both of hers holding it closely, “I knew nothing about the King, I mean I know they say about him, but I had never spoken to him. But he was just a boy. A child. Maybe just a few years older than my oldest girl.” Her voice was far once more. 

The other hand, finishing your work and gently lifting the headwear off to lay gently on a table, you leaned in. Wrapping your own free arm around her front as you lay your head against the side of hers. “Tell me about her.” 

That got her to smile. She needed a distraction, not to think about what she saw, how close in age he was to her daughter. So getting her to tell you about her may help. “Well she belongs to Oberyn that’s for sure.” Ellaria even let out a soft breath of a laugh. “Stubborn. Such a stubborn girl. Always trying to get away with as much as possible, but she has such a soft heart under it all. I think it’s just hard for her to remember it sometimes.” 

She pulled you over to her front, moving to sit you down with her. Straddling her legs so you could make sure to move her gaze onto you. “Why is that?” 

Ellaria sighed. Raking a hand through your hair as she spoke. “She’d probably be able to settle more if she wasn’t still pining for her father’s attention. We named her Elia, after his sister.” 

She watched you for a second, your brows furrowing as you nodded before catching her loose hand to hold in her lap. Assuming she was looking to see if you understood what that meant, she seemed to get that you knew what she was inferring too. Since his arrival in Kings Landing Oberyn had not brought it up once, and you wouldn’t either. That’s a kind of heartbreak that you never quite get over. 

Ellaria at least, seemed to relax under your person a bit more. “Oberyn is a great father not even she would contest that, but I think the older Elia gets, the more of his sister he sees in her. It’s painful. To look at your daughter and be reminded of losing someone you loved so horrifically. It’s put some distance between them, Oberyn doesn’t want his hurt and anger to be taken out on her but it also means Elia wants to try that much harder to pull him back.” 

It was nicer now, both of you close, just holding the other as she opened up to you. This kind of vulnerability wasn’t something you had gotten in many years. “If she’s as much like him as you say, then at least you know she will never just give up on him. She’ll always try to mend that gap.” 

Nodding, Ellaria tried to loosen her hair up a bit from the tight hold it struggled to let go of. She leaned up into you close, “I think I’d like to get all of this off me if you would be so kind.” Bending her head towards the orange dress on her. 

Both of you standing up, you held onto her hips and leaned close to her own mouth. “Lucky for you that’s exactly what I’m paid to be good at.” 

The pair of you laughed, but Ellaria leaned in, her lips brushing against yours as she spoke. “Don’t tempt me, little one. I’ve worked very hard to get to know what's in here,” tapping at the side of your head, “before here.” Then moving her hand to brush down your chest, covered by the loose cheer material. 

You smiled at her before moving to help her undress, “I can’t think of a single person I’ve seen come through here that would pay me money, not to fuck them.” 

Helping her into one of her much more loose dresses, the material much more plush and soft then the sleek silk like material before it. She let you fluff her hair up, loosening it so it fell comfortably down her back. “If we wanted to just fuck you and be done with you, we wouldn’t have had to fight so hard to keep you all to ourselves. Oberyn finds your mind just as tempting as whatever these are hiding from us.” She tugs at your dress once more, before you pull away from her. 

The two of you start to settle back into something much more normal but not before Ellaria gives you a specific piece of advice. “I’m not sure what kind of mood Oberyn will be in when he returns. Such an awful thing to watch mixed with spending far more time around the Lannisters than expected may leave him a bit more aggressive when he comes back.” 

From your spot on the bed, you lean up with your palms supporting you, “Do you- should I..give you space, if he is? So you can,” trailing off, Ellaria still understood what you asked. 

She sits next to you and nudges your chin to look at her. “I am warning you, because so far we have kept our distance. Getting to know you this way, instead of making you think you were just another passing whore to us.” 

You tried to ask why, why would you be different from anyone else. But that seems to be a question that only the two of them know the answer to, that silent understanding they have with one another that you weren’t yet privy too. “Oberyn is a good man, but he can also be very impatient. He’s been careful to take his time with you, but when he is pressed, he can only hold off what he wants for so long.” 

“What are you trying to tell me?” 

Ellaria leaned in, not quite as close as before but enough that her breath could be felt on your own skin. “If the only reason you would fuck him or me is because you are getting paid to, then you need to tell us. Neither of us will push for something you do not truly want of your own choice. If we just wanted another body, we would have just paid any of the others in here and moved on.” 

She knew you weren’t going to answer. You didn’t really know the answer yet. So much was in your heart, so many anxieties in your mind. You had also spent more time with Ellaria alone, you know the desire that grew with each interaction, but Oberyn was a much harder read. That silly little girl in you, the part of you that was supposed to stay hidden, kept telling you that you wanted to spend time with just him. Saying that you needed to spend more time alone with him as if you were still a young girl with a crush.

Conflicting with the other part of you. This fake name, this unreal identity that grew up in Maidenpool and worked in brothels because sex was just another activity to you. Oberyn wasn’t supposed to care about who you are, he was here to fuck you while he stayed in the city then leave you forever. You shouldn’t want to spend more time with him.

Standing up you found yourself moving pour yourself some wine, as if you could simply drown that stupid girl inside of you down with the taste. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you both will move on at some point regardless.” Your swallow was audible, loud and painful. It would take closer to drinking the entire jug to drown this out apparently. 

You didn’t turn to face her as she spoke, you couldn’t. Not right now. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” You shut your eyes. Another sip. Drown it out. Two beautiful people show up, give you a sliver of attention and you attach yourself to them like a lech. You were entertainment to them. That’s all it was. That’s all it could be. Nothing else made sense, you were just a whore in some brothel. 

So you tried again, tried playing the part they wanted. Spinning around to lean against the tale edge as you spoke, glass lifting up to your lips as you spoke. “Well the last time I checked, this city isn’t quite Sunspear is it? Your lives are a long ways away from my own.” 

Ellaria didn’t answer. The door opening that moment, with Oberyn walking through. He was quite calm in fact, nothing like the unnerved distance Ellaria had returned with. You didn’t want to look at him either. You felt embarrassed, so you simply turned away, fussing with the sheets on the bed as they embraced. “You are okay, right? Everything is,” her voice trailing off. No doubt looking him over to ensure everything was in proper place. 

“Everything is fine, don’t worry about me.” His voice was quieter, no doubt pulling her close to him, “And you, my love? Are you okay?” She must have nodded, you weren’t sure. All you could do was fuss with a bed that no doubt would get ruffled again in an instant. “I would have spared you the upset and gone alone had I known it was going to be that ugly.” 

A kiss shared, your grip turned harder. An intimacy, a love you never had, and in this name, never will. Your growing attachment to them feels suffocating. You’re knuckles straining from the grip on whatever you picked up, why did they want to know you? They had each other, they didn’t need to know you this way. Out of all the whores in this brothel, why were you the only one they were interested in, like that? 

Their talk turned to muffles, clearly wanting to keep you out of it. Maybe Olyvar kept your small little room available, you could just return there. Let them play out their desires in peace for the rest of their stay. Your heart pounded in your chest, the suffocating feeling growing tighter and tighter. Everything inside you was so loud that you couldn’t even hear them speak anymore. 

It had been a long time since you had felt this kind of resentment towards this life. You didn’t even have one to go home to, that choice was taken away from you. It was either this now, or the road. At least your childish heart couldn't get attached to people alone out in the open air.

Just as it was too much, just as your heart constricted, refusing to let your lungs breathe, you fell backwards into a deep warmth. Something all encompassing, flooding your body with heat, forcing your heart to go back to normal, the tightness in your chest relaxing. Oberyn’s voice at your ears, the deep bass rich in tone, matching the rich scent always accompanying him. “You can get away with telling Ellaria that you’re fine because she doesn’t like to push people.” One by one your senses regained their ability, the warmth was his broad chest against your back, his hands reached around you, holding your own firmly as he pries your fingers open trying to take the painful strain off of them. “But this,” his palms rubbing over the top of yours, forcing out the tense hold in them as he says your name, “This is not fine. You can’t just stand away from me with tears in your eyes and tell me nothing is wrong.” 

You hadn’t realized you had been crying, you weren’t sure when you started, or what train of thought even forced them out. “It’s- there's nothing to worry about. Let me just finish up he-” 

Oberyn cuts you off, saying your name much more commandingly, almost angry as he grabs your hips to spin you and face him. He yanks you close to him, leaning over you, his face torn between frustration and concern. “You are only fine when you think we’re looking. The second you think no one's watching I see you trying not to fall apart.” His hands move from your hips to cradle the sides of your face. “Talk to me.” 

It wasn’t what you wanted to say, but it slipped out before you could stop it. A small, cracked voice peeping out, “Why did you pick me?” His brow furrowed in confusion. “You didn’t come here to waste all your time just talking, you came here to fuck. Why bother spending time with me like this?” 

Voice breathless and weak, you were just tired of it all. Oberyn’s forehead came to rest on yours for a moment, both your eyes shut at the simple contact. “I am a man who always knows what he wants. I walked into this building with Ellaria, and we quickly chose whichever body attracted us the most.” As if he could feel your pull, his grip on your cheeks and jaw tightened, pulling you against him closer, your torsos almost pressed against the other. “But then there was you, and I could feel your place in my heart even then. We aren’t spending time with you because we are bored, we chose you, I chose you because the last time someone captured my attention so quickly and deeply was when I met Ellaria.” 

Oberyn kept you in place as he moved slightly, his nose trailing down your own. “If I just fucked you, then you would have felt like everyone else. And I don’t want you to be everyone else here.” 

They hovered over yours, like Ellaria before, you could feel his breath on your skin, but then he sealed the space. You expected a man like Oberyn to kiss you like he lived his life, fast, harsh and demanding but passionate. Passion was there, but he was much kinder than you thought. 

Moving his soft lips against yours, not trying to pry you open and taste you more, just your lips moving together with a tenderness unknown to you, the feeling on your cheeks being his thumbs stroking back and forth in place. Your hands hovered over touching his waist when he pulled back ever so slightly. Your lips jutting forward to chase his, as he gave you one more, then pulled you chin up to look at him. 

Brown deep eyes locking your own gaze into his. “If this part is all you want that’s okay. But I want more. And I want you to give me that chance.” He tugs your chin up more, “I need you to say what you want. Out loud.” 

Finally you allowed your hands to touch at his waist, nodding first in his hold before remembering his demand. “I do, I do want that. I’m just..no one’s ever.” You sucked in a breath before the tears had a chance to water up again. “My body’s only ever been the things people are interested in. I’m not used to this.” 

Oberyn pressed his lips against yours once more, pulling away as he nudged his nose against yours, one hand coming to cradle the back of your head, as he pulled your body into his chest completely. “You’ve been patient with us the past few days. Answering all our questions and stories. Now, let me repay the favour.” 

The yes this time came from you leaning in to kiss him. A kiss that sparked something deeper in Oberyn's chest. His hands gripped tight, jaw clenching. “Lay on the bed.” 

While you moved back, there was just enough hesitation in your eyes for Oberyn to gently rub a thumb down your cheek before taking a step back. “Not for that. Not now. I’m going to give you something I think you need.” 

As you lay back, Oberyn kept his gaze locked onto you. Shedding the lushious white robe he had worn to the wedding, and pulling off the shirt covering his chest. When you raised your hands to pull the thin fabric down your shoulders, he grabbed at your hand. 

Shaking his head with a look of disapproval. A better view, you could see just how broad this man really was. Tall and large, taking up your whole view, a dark chest littered with faded scars and muscle that gave way to a softer stomach below. 

Lurching his body forward, Oberyn propped himself over top of you, as he grabbed your jaw, holding you in place as he kissed you. This was harsher, more demanding, much more what you had expected. His soft lips contrasting with how much he took and took, how he molded your lips to his control. 

Your hands began to roam the path of his chest and back, your touch enough to jolt his body like a fire had sparked below him. Simple lips against yours turned to biting, small whines from your mouth filling into his own groans. His tongue tracing your lips and moving in at your gasp. His tongue stroked against yours, before moving back to a biting kiss. It was almost messy, but Oberyn was in full control. He moved your mouth exactly how he wanted it, and all you could do was grab at his skin, push your palms up against his stomach and whine. 

One arm wrapped around your side and pulled you closer into his body before he laid down closer into you, pressing his weight more and as he began to pull his lips away, just out of reach, and then back. A few times he would do that, pull away just enough to nudge his nose against yours before recapturing your lips again. 

It was almost soothing, like his lips against yours and the back under your palms forced your anxieties down. No greedy touches, groping that bordered on painful, vulgar dribble meant to do nothing more than boost the man’s own ego. Just his touch, his mouth sealed against yours. Your bodies moved together, almost grinding of their own accord but he kept his attention on your lips. 

You think he mutters your name a few times, but the blood is ringing in your ears so loudly that you barely hear anything over his deep grunts and the desperate sound of trying to catch your breath anytime you remotely separate. Finally, Oberyn pulls back saying your name once more. “I want to do something for you, will you let me do that?” 

Your chest heaved against his, nothing but the thin sheer material of your dress keeping your bare chest from pressing against his. You only nod, fingers pressing down harder on the skin they lay, when Oberyn grabs your jaw, tilting your head to look into his eyes. “I need you to tell me, little one. Use your words.” 

High pitched and breathless, you spit it out. “Yes, please. You can touch me.” You want to shut your eyes, body buzzing from his intensity, but the hard and serious gaze towards you, a silent but unquestionable demand to look at him. 

The hand on your jaw slides down, facing down on the sheets beside your head, as he moves his other arm down. Tracing the soft skin of your thigh, whatever was exposed when you lay down. His nose once again rubs against yours, before moving to your cheek, and moments later, his lips, light as a feather press against your throat. The feeling like rushing water being dumped on you, your back arching with a gasp as he chuckles. “How often do men take their time with you?” 

His hand slid higher, but wasn’t greedy, a slow ascent to its peak, unphased by the warmth flowing from it the closer he got. You shook your head vigorously, “Never, they, they don’t- it’s not what they want.” 

Oberyn bites down on your skin, lips and tongue following to ease the bright sting. His bites burn down the length of your neck, only to have his kiss apologise against them on his way back up. “A shame. They’re missing out on something very addicting.” Reclaiming your lips, Oberyn moved his hand up right between your legs. 

Cupping your mound, he laughs into a harsh biting kiss when you gasp, hips lurching into his hand of their own accord. Thick fingers trace up and down against your entrance, gathering up whatever slickness he is given, before sliding them up to your clit. 

His first touch isn’t gentle, he grasps it in his fingers when you whine loudly. Gentle shushing purrs against your mouth, as another finger once again toys against sliding inside. Oberyn's fingers rub harshly, but soaked with your own juices and lingering on whichever pattern had you pressing against him the most. One of your hands found the back of his neck, a tight hold between his skin and wanting to thread through his hair. 

When the other hand found his chest, you moved your way down to the waistband of his pants, but it all stopped. His fingers pressed into your clit with an unrelenting pressure, but didn’t move. Snatching your hand from his skin he slams it down up above your head. “I-, I jus-”” you stammered, unable to find the right words between the hold on your wrist and the fire burning on your clit as he pressed down. 

Oberyn bites your bottom lip, tugging it just slightly to watch it bounce back into place with gritted teeth. “This is not about me. I am touching you, not the other way around.” 

Slowly he starts moving again, much more gentle circles against your clit, as the finger toying at your entrance slides in, so wet there is no resistance, he buries it as far as can reach. “Bu- But don't you want,” 

His finger strokes against your walls in tandem with the rubs of your clit. He chuckles, almost a deep and threatening laugh. It would be intimidating if you didn’t know any better. “Oh I do, little one. But I won’t fuck you yet.” The second straggling finger on his hand slides sin with the first and you squirm helplessly against the fire coiling inside you. “When I fuck you, I want your heart not just your cunt.” 

You can’t respond, his lips and tongue consume you. Flaming inside your mouth, and as it flows down your body like a spreading blaze, and meeting the white burning between your legs. You tense up, your body pressed against his large frame as you coil like a spring inside. 

You clench against the thick fingers inside you, causing Oberyn to release your wrist, holding your hand against his now, fingers tangled with each other. “Oberyn, please," You couldn’t think, you don’t know why it was a beg, or a question, you just wanted, needed him to bring you over the cliff into the waters below. 

His lips commanded you as his fingers wound you, your moans turn to whines the closer you get. But there was one final push he knew you didn’t realize you needed. “I’ve got you. Give it to me, my love.” 

Your orgasm hit you with no remorse. Your body shook as it felt like everything hit you at once, pleasure, pain, burning, sting, all mixed together as you barely have enough air in your lungs left to breathe out his name. 

There were a few moments that went by before he moved away from your cunt. Very slow pull of his fingers out of your warmth, as his rubs on your clit slowed to a stop, His hand once again cupping you entirely as the fog lifted. His nose rubbed against yours again, a manner almost loving and romantic. Your free hand slid down to the front of his neck against his collarbone, stroking the skin there back and forth. 

His lips around your ear, a much more playful yet condescending tone you’ve come to enjoy almost mocking you. “I assume none of these men also have ever made you cum, even if they meant to, have they?” 

Laughing filled the air between you. He didn’t need the answer, he already knew. Especially in a place like Kings Landing, the men here didn’t exactly emulate the aura of generosity. “Where did Ellaria go?” 

Smiling with nothing but fondness, Oberyn finally moved his hand away from his spot between your legs. Flopping onto his back, he pulled you right with him, your body splayed partially on top of his chest. “I’m sure she found some kind of trouble to keep her entertained. She wanted to give us privacy.” 

Trying to ask why, Oberyn leaned up enough to force you into a sitting position, putting his hand around a cheek covering your mouth with a thumb. “You’re not who you say you are.” 

In an instant dread slapped you in the face, you were right. He knew. If Oberyn knew who else in the city knew? Why wouldn’t he say anything, when did he find out? Your eyes were wide, full of fear but everything else from you was silent, unmoving like stone. When you tried to shake your head, his grip got tighter. 

“I’m not asking you to tell me, not right now. But I want you to think. When you are with me you are safe, no matter what, everything you tell me will not leave this room. But we do need to discuss it. When you’re ready.” Laying back against the sheets, Oberyn pulled you with him, laying your head on his chest, and your hands delicately placed near the softer stomach below. His own hands stroking the skin where he touched, fingers grazing the pulse on your wrist to feel you calm down. 

“Does Ellaria know?” Your voice was small and meek, unlike anything about the person you were trying to play. 

“She knows what I know.” You felt confused, trying to ask him why she wasn’t here then, but Oberyn just pulled you closer. “Having both of us in the room for this would be too much. Neither of us want you to feel pressured to talk just because we both are there.” 

You felt lips at the top of your head, and for the briefest of moments, you snuggled closer into his chest, trying to shut out the fear with his touch. Nothing about today was right. It was all wrong, for everyone. Whatever the future held for you it was now stripped of any certainty, but they weren’t pressuring you. They didn't threaten you, or hurt you for it, and for that all you can say to him, “Thank you. I just..can we stay like this a while longer?” 

His own head stayed against the top of yours, feeling him nod in agreement. For a while you just stayed like that, your anxiety threatening to take you over while Oberyn tried to tame it down with his touch. At some point you must have fallen asleep, because the next time you opened your eyes, a smaller dainty hand was draped across your stomach, having pulled you into Ellaria’s soft body behind. Oberyn on his side as well now, keeping you tucked in his chest while Ellaria’s lay like a guard behind you. 

You just shut your eyes, when you wake up things will be a little better you hope. Evening will have fallen over the city, and you three would share a meal, then relax like usual. At least for tonight, you could pretend as if things weren’t all about to fall apart. 

The quiet didn’t last long. It was only a matter of time, hours, days, for everything to come out, the instigator for the conversation though, was surprising. At the present moment, you were currently kneeled on the bed behind Ellaria who was sitting on the edge. Both of you laughed with each tug you had to make at her hair to undo the mess. 

Both her and Oberyn have been much more freely touchy towards you and you felt much more natural in returning it. You’re not sure if he told her directly what happened between you, or if she just knows her paramour so well that they both knew she could tell. Either way, both of them seemed to find a way to have their hands on you or vice versa almost all the time. 

It was when you went to start smoothing her hair down, that she had gotten the idea. You didn’t know much about traditional Dornish hair styling, but you had simply commented that it was nice to see her leaving her hair flow down naturally most of the time, as opposed to here. Saying that no matter what some of the girls suggested, you could never bring yourself to spend so much time on those styles, that Ellaria’s was much more like where you were from. 

“They don’t like those elaborate updos in the North?” You had paused for a moment, your hands falling from her hair and splat onto her shoulders, your fingers briefly gripping the skin there. Both you and Ellaria could see Oberyn clear as day in the mirror reflection, she watched your face as you looked at Oberyns. His head nodding briefly, a calm softer smile gracing it. 

A reassurance that he and Ellaria were on the same page, that you didn’t have to keep such an elaborate ruse in front of her. She was safe too. So you blinked a few times, wiping away the conflict, and simply laughed. “Northern women traditionally prefer to keep it down like this. I’m not sure if it’s solely because we see these weird Crownland styles and feel like they are obviously just to show off, or if somewhere back years ago we realized longer hair keeps your head warmer the closer to Winter we got.” 

Ellaria had reached behind her and playfully tugged a strand of your own hair near her face, holding onto it almost to keep you close enough she could see you in her own field of view. “I’m glad. You look far better when your hair is free to sit however you want, and of course, when you don’t have to paint your pretty little face up with so much makeup just to impress these dogs.” 

This time she had definitely looked at Oberyn, almost trying to poke at him with a smirk on her face. He had come up behind you, his large hands placing themselves on your hips as he draped his body over your back. “I would have to agree my love,” his fingers tilting your face up to look at him, as they then ran across your lips. “You’re infinitely more beautiful when you’re not just trying to impress us. Besides, I can't do this whenever I want if you colour them all day.” Leaning in to capture your lips with his. 

While his tongue had taken charge of your mouth, one of his hands blindly reached up to grasp Ellaria’s shoulders around you, and pulled her to the edge of the stool she sat in, putting her back right into your hips as Oberyn's hand stroked the skin on her neck. 

She hasn’t kissed you yet, even though she has touched you all morning in the same tender ways she does Oberyn. You’re not sure if she wants you to make the first move, so she knows this is what you want as well, or if she is waiting for something. When Oberyn pulled back from your lips, Ellaria took her chance, standing up and turning to hold you in her arms like Oberyn before, only hers were draped across your collarbones and the tops of your breasts. 

Looking him in the eye, Oberyn glared back as if deeply offended. “He’s had enough time with you already, don’t you think?” A smile took over the facade quickly. “It’s our turn to play, little one. Come,” she patted your hip, close to the edge of your ass. “Show me one of those hairstyles I keep seeing these women around here are always doing.” 

That’s how you ended up behind her, untangling the mess. It had not gone well. It was fun, and you both were laughing at how needlessly complicated it was, but neither you or Oberyn could figure out if it was just you who did a bad job, or if the style just looked terribly strange on Ellaria’s beautiful face. 

The day had been full of fun but endless teasing. Oberyn’s shirt had not been put back on since it was pulled off earlier by Ellaria. They had almost taunted you in their fucking, both of them making sure you had your eyes on them at all times. Oberyn’s dark and intense as he handled her more rough the longer his eyes watched yours, and Ellaria’s consumed with desire as she watched your voyeurism. Tempting you with their sex, trying to guide you to them as if saying “This could be yours as well, just open up and let us in, and this can be you too.” 

They had made a point not to hide their fucking in front of you, in fact, both putting on very deliberate shows, trying to get you off through sight alone it seemed. Tempting you to trust them with your heart before you trusted them with your body. 

At the present moment, Obeyrn hadn’t been away from the room for long. You had made an offhand comment about after you were done, you would go check if their washing was dry and bring it back. The man never ceasing to be a surprise, simply waved his hand, telling you to stay as he went to do the work you know the Royals here never would consider doing the work their servants were for.

Finally done, you had just placed your feet on the ground, you were greeted by Olyvar’s entrance. Calling you over to him, a serious look trying to bask itself as simple professionalism. His voice speaking out loud seemingly for whomever may be outside the open door. “Problem with another room, I just need you to keep some left behind belongings under closer supervision.” As he handed you a simple pile of what appeared to be a man's robe, and some jewellery, neither of you looked down at the pass over. 

You could feel it under your hand, right at the bottom. Paper. Small, scrunched paper being very carefully placed into your palm. “If you could, right away.” You nodded. 

There had been somewhat of an understanding between you and Olyvar. How much Baelish had disclosed to him you didn’t know, but it was clear that both of you were trying to protect that secret without stepping on anyone's toes. It may be Baelish he did the spying for, but none of the spies in Kings Landing did it out of pure loyalty. It could just have easily been Lord Varys the one who he passes on to. It wasn't personal.

You moved right away. The small alcove in the room was just out of sight of the door, you would have to be right beside it to see into the darker corner. Sometimes things left behind were kept under lock and key in certain rooms to avoid theft. Most of these men wouldn’t fare well being told someone stole something they left behind in a brothel. This room was one of them. 

Just as you started to walk over, Olyvar began talking with Ellaria, trying to use the conversation as a way to pull her out of your sight. As you stood in the small shelf space placing the items down, you pulled the paper out. 

A note. A note much like the ones he would sneak to Baelish for information. You didn’t know how he learned this, but you knew you didn’t want to. Your heart jumped in your chest at the words. 

“The Bird has flown North. The Rock shines bright in its absence.”

He knew. How could he know, how would he have found out? You couldn’t think, you couldn’t even hear. Voices were chatting away in the main room, but you were paralyzed. Staring at the ink scrawl as if it would tell you something different by sheer force. It was one thing to know Baelish brought you here knowing who you are, that was enough to leave you in fear. But this? This was something else entirely. You had to focus, act normal for now. The amount of people you can put any trust in was dwindling. 

You took a few deep breaths, hidden in the darkness. You could make out both Oberyn and Ellaria’s voice, and Olyvar in response. You could handle it, it was just them. But it wasn’t. Because footsteps, loud, thundering footsteps in tandem rang through the hall and into the door. 

A deep voice spoke, but far unlike Oberyns. This one, booming, full of command with no smoothness or comfort. “Prince Oberyn.” 

You pressed your back up against the wall, all air leaving your lungs. “Lord Twyin.”  This was all wrong, not now, it can’t be. Did he give you this note because he knew who was coming? The sounds of people leaving the room, doors shutting behind them leaving the room in a strange silence. 

They didn’t say you were here. Olyvar and Ellaria walked out, they knew you were here. What was said between them all? You couldn’t come out now, you can’t make your presence be known, not to him. Everything could end right now if you do. So you stayed, pressed against the wall, unable to give whatever privacy Lord Twyin has requested. 

Oberyn’s voice rang out, “Would you like to sit?” A shockingly polite no thank you came from Lord Tywin. The same politeness still, as Oberyn offers wine. You could partially see Oberyn from where you were. You couldn’t tell if he knew you were here or not, if they had said anything when leaving. Currently he wouldn’t be able to see you, but if he or Tywin moved to a closer angle, no doubt one of them would. “I’m sorry about your grandson.” 

“Are you?” Were you not so utterly terrified, you may have wanted to laugh. Not everyone is as cold and unfeeling as you, you thought. 

Oberyn took it with little offence. “I don’t believe a child is responsible for the sins of his father. Or his grandfather. An awful way to die.” 

“Which way is that?” Why would he be asking that? What game could he be playing involving his own grandson's death? Oberyn seemed to sense whatever intent Tywin had walked in with. His cocky voice rang out, asking almost in jest if this was supposed to be an interrogation.

Twyin’s next words made little sense to you. “Some believe the King choked.” 

Your eyes were stuck on a meaningless wooden panel on the floor. Believe? Why would some believe that but not others? You remembered, vividly Kayla’s horrified face as she returned, telling a horrible tale of the boy choking in the middle of the ceremony as he fell to the ground. Turning purple as the air in his lungs has no way to go. Oberyn, though, seemed to know exactly what this game was. “Some believe the sky is blue, because we live in the eye of a blue eyed giant. The king was poisoned.” 

Your eyes widened, head turning to the room catching a glimpse of Oberyn on the bed, eyes watching Tywin, anticipating whatever it was he was going to say. Everyone said he choked, no one had told you otherwise, but you suppose, you didn’t ask. 

“I hear you studied poisons at the citadel.” Oberyn wasn’t even phased it seemed. Confirming to the Lannister that's why he knows it was poison. What you thought or even suspected made less and less sense. Tyrion poisoning his nephew made little sense, but Oberyn’s made even less. Joffrey was a cruel boy, but his slights weren’t against Oberyn, or even Dorne. 

Tywin began to speak, as if filling the gaps in for your slow mind to keep up. “Your hatred for my family is rather well known. You arrive at the Capitol, an expert in poisoning. Some days later my grandson dies. Of poisoning.” 

Still on the bed, still unphased. “Rather suspicious. Why haven’t you thrown me in a dungeon?” He was never going to, that much seemed obvious. 

“You spoke with Tyrion in this very brothel on the day that you arrived. What did you discuss?” You struggled. This wasn’t your game, you were never exposed to the politics, you never watched and learned the games the highborns and royals all crafted. Tywin never answered Oberyn's questions directly. And again Oberyn being utterly unphased by whatever accusations he was implying. 

“You think we conspired together?” Oberyn was up, moving out of your view. Tywin simply asked again. You shouldn’t be here. You had no idea what Oberyn had discussed with Tyrion that day, it wasn’t your business or place to know.

Oberyn’s voice grew cold. Dropping whatever charade he was toying Lord Tywin with. “The death of my sister.” 

“For which you blame me.” Your fingertips dug into the wall behind you, a painful strain as you desperately tried to keep grounded. You definitely should not be here. 

Oberyn’s voice was quieter, you had to guess merely feet away from the Lannister. He was restrained, but a viciousness hissed behind them. “She was raped and murdered by the Mountain. The Mountain follows your orders, of course I blame you.” 

Your chest heaved in desperation, trying to breathe but it felt like you were constricting again. Dumb little girl, thats what you felt. You never questioned why he was here, why he came to a land full of a family he hates. He was here for something much more. 

“Well here I stand, unarmed and unguarded. Should I be concerned?” Tywin was almost condescending, as if trying to goat Oberyn into something. But neither man was a brawler, and certainly not stupid. Games you didn’t understand. 

Oberyn didn’t take it. “You are unarmed and unguarded because you know me better than that. I am a man of reason. If I cut your throat today, I will be drawn and quartered tomorrow.” 

Tywin wouldn’t budge if you had to guess. “Men at war commit all kinds of crimes without their superiors’ knowledge.” 

“So you deny involvement in Elia’s murder.” There was a silence between them. Your bated breath listening to something unfold you had to right to, but yet, made your little fake life feel even smaller. It took a moment. Both men do doubt staring intently at the other before Tywin spoke. 

“Categorically.” 

Eyes shut, you had to pull it together. Neither man was fooled by the other. Both of them knew exactly what had happened, but that's how Tywin works. Passes his dirty work to others who will do the job and take the blame. No trace leading back to just his words. Your father worked exactly the same. 

Oberyn came back closer into view, his tone clipped and restrained. “I would like to speak to the Mountain.” In a cruel twist, you ended up thinking exactly what Tywin said, only he was far much more condescending. That you were sure the Mountain would love that meeting.

“I could arrange for this meeting.” Confused, you watched Oberyn diligently. He knew the game Tywin was playing, but you weren’t so sure Tywin knew that. 

“But you want something in return.” Tywin and your father were made for eachother, both powerful commanding men only doing things for others if he could find a benefit for himself. 

“There will be a trial for my son, and as custom dictates, three judges will render a verdict. I will preside. Mace Tyrell will serve as the second judge. I would like you to be the third.” 

Oberyn only asked why. Lord Tywin was granting him a strange amount of respect for the threat he poses to his person and his family. “Not long ago, the Tyrells sided with Renly Baratheon. Declared themselves enemies of the throne. Now they are our strongest allies.” 

You knew the Tyrells somewhat. As a girl, you met The Lady Olenna, your mother hated her, but the woman seemed somewhat fond of you. Sometimes you wonder if the wit you developed not long after that, had influence rooted in Roses. You had also met Loras a few times since being here, though you were mostly busy trying to figure out if he was genuinely trying to hide his preference for men or if he just wasn't subtle. You could at least take some pleasure in knowing at least you were better at keeping a secret then Loras.

Oberyn’s response was dangerous. “You made the Tyrell girl a queen. Asking me to judge at your son's trial isn’t quite as tempting.” 

It was only just audible. A breath of a laugh leaving you, before you could worry if Oberyn had heard you, it was too late. 

“I would also invite you to sit on the Small Council.” His body turned away from Tywin, that hit something in him. Oberyn's head lifting up, a darkness masked behind a stone wall in his face. Then his eyes found you. Pressed terrified against a wall, hiding from Lord Tywin. Your eyes pleaded. You wanted to apologize, you wanted to run, but you were stuck. Tywin, unable to see the exchange continued, “To Serve as one of the new King’s principal advisors.” 

Whatever running through his head, slunk back down out of sight. His head lowering just enough with his deep brown eyes soft, reassuring. Telling you not to be scared of him of all people. Then a shift, cocky and ready to play as he turned to the Lannister once more. “I never realized you had such respect for Dorne, Lord Tywin.” 

“We are not the Seven Kingdoms until Dorne returns to the fold.” And which family had actively made that next to impossible? “The King is dead, the Greyjoys are in open rebellion. A wilding army marches on the wall,” 

Wildings? That was news to you. “And in the East, a Targaryen girl has three dragons. Before long she will turn her eyes to Westeros. Only the Dornish managed to resist Aegon Targaryen and his dragons.”

There it was. Dorne was the only Kingdom in Westeros ever to resist the Targareyans in the past. It had nothing to do with his grandson, he just wanted to find a way to use Dorne for his own advantage. 

“You’re saying you need us? That must be hard for you to admit.” Oberyn's condescending tone couldn’t even bring you out of your thoughts enough to be amused. No doubt he saw through this, right? Tywin Lannister is not a man trying to reunite Dorne with the rest of the Kingdom to work with them in equal peace. 

“We need each other. You help me serve justice to the King’s assassins, and I will help you serve justice to Elia’s.” No, you thought. No he won’t, justice isn’t what he's looking for. He’s placing his own son on trial at the behest of him and his malicious sister. There was no justice here and he doesn’t care about any kind of justice for Elia Martell, or her children. Men like Tywin Lannister have no compassion. 

You’re not sure how long you stood there in silence, still pressed against the wall, but slouched down. Almost as if you were about to slide to the floor under the weight of everything. The sound of the door shutting registered in the back of your mind, but did little to entice you to move. At some point your eyes slid shut, watching the words swirl in your mind. 

It wasn’t until the soft sounds of footsteps came in front of you, did you open them, bringing yourself back to the present. Looking up slightly to face him, his own face lost in his own thoughts, eyes scanning you up and down for a moment. “I think there are a few things we need to talk about.” 

With a deep sigh you moved yourself up and off the wall, following Oberyn’s arms gesturing to the main room. Ellaria stood near the wall, and briefly the dread built, the anxiety of angering both of them. As she moved towards you though, the feeling of your heart dropping settled as her outstretched arms pulled you into her body, soft hands finding your face. “You’re okay?” Nodding her face lightened in relief. “What happened?”

Your hands grasp her wrists, as you look down. But it was Oberyn’s voice who answered for her. “It would seem more than just Lord Baelish knows you.” Not looking up, you pulled Ellaria’s hands from your face before stepping away. 

There was only so much you could see when you looked out the window, but the crowded, filthy city streets below. “I don’t know which people may or may not know. I don’t know how far South the it spread.” That growing anxiety felt too much, like it had tipped beyond its peak and now weighed you down with exhaustion. This was a ruse you didn’t think you would still be anywhere near here. If the walls were closing in on this secret, you’d rather at least be able to tell someone who you didn’t hate. 

Instead of either of their warm, all encompassing embrace you’d come to know, you simply felt Oberyn’s hands on either side of your arms. His voice is quiet, almost soothing in its calmness. “Unfortunately, sweet girl, it doesn’t need to spread that far. All it takes is the wrong person to see you, and they’re already writing to whoever they’re working for.” 

You think you hear Ellaria coming up beside Oberyn, and you turn in his grasp suddenly, looking up at them both. “Is that how you knew? Why you’re even bothering with me in the first place? Someone told you I’m alive, so you spend time with me, and get me to tell you who I am and use it to your own advantage?” 

That wasn't a fair accusation, but you were upset and it just spilt out in anxiety.

Ellaria’s grip on Oberyn's waist tightens as Oberyn steps forward, forcing your chin up with his fingers, and for once you understand his reputation. This plotting darkness behind such rich brown eyes is seeping with intensity, though it’s not quite anger or contempt as many likely have been subjected to. “I knew who you were, because unlike the unsuspecting men who just follow your father without question, I’m not fooled by a half baked story of a Lord’s missing daughter, who unceremoniously turns up dead, yet no one ever saw a body.” 

When your eyes widen, one finger under your chin climbs up, stroking lightly against your bottom lip. Oberyn then says your name, your real name. “We spend our time with you, because we wanted to know you. Both of us saw you, and knew there was more to this,” His head looking your sultry attire up and down, “then what you’re trying to convince people of. I’m not some Lord looking to take advantage of you, or a Lannister using you for leverage I don’t need, and I am not one of your father’s allies willing to sell you out just to gain favour with the despicable man you ran from.” 

Finally, his gaze softened, Ellaria calmly watching his tension slip back down. “I wanted you to tell me yourself, because that meant you trusted me. Not because you’re scared of me.” Waiting until you either said yes, or nodded in understanding, Ellaria slid between you both, Oberyn's own hands going to hold her waist in return as Ellaria once again cupped one of your cheeks. 

“You are safe with Oberyn. Safe with me. In this room you have us, you don’t need to keep all this building up inside. All we want from you, is to just let us in.” Your own eyes shut as you let out a breath. First feeling her forehead gently press against yours, and then the sensation of your face being pulled in. 

If Oberyn’s kiss was overwhelming, Ellaria’s was intoxicating. She wasn’t commanding, but almost guiding, wanting you to just let her kiss you the way you need. Pulling away too soon, your eyes remained shut for a brief moment, fluttering open as the breath of her chuckle hit your skin. “I’m sorry. For everything today. It’s all just so much in my head, I don’t know, I wasn’t really thinking clearly.” 

Oberyn’s head leaned into Ellaria’s shoulder, “Don’t apologize. Neither of us have any need for you to say sorry. Besides, I assume this was the first time you learned most of that news. That alone would be enough to overwhelm anyone.” Finally he moved away from Ellaria, and gestured to you to come over to the bed. “Come. We’ll just sit and have a drink. However much you want to tell us, you can do so at any time. If I wanted to interrogate you, I’d simply give you vague threats about your intentions being in the capitol, not fill you with wine and share your bed.” 

Gods, that was something else entirely. Being in the room hiding from the one man who would have no qualms using you as a pawn for his newly secured power in the North was one thing. Listening to him come in and imply a Prince conspiring to murder a kid was another. 

You found a smirk made its way to your face as Oberyn handed you a drink, feeling more yourself now that your heartbeat has stopped feeling like a constant explosion. “Well if you do, let me know. I’ll practice walking around the room shirtless with a condescending attitude.” 

Before getting a word out, Ellaria pulled your legs to drape over hers. “Oh you don’t need an excuse to do that, Sweet girl. Neither of us will stop you from slipping this off.” Her finger toyed against your sleeve fabric. 

For a while things were a bit calmer, but you weren’t sure what to say about anything otherwise. That trickle of worry slipping back into your head, telling you that it doesn’t matter that they want to know you, or if they like you. Reminding you that when they leave, you’re back alone in this city and no ready plans of where to go or how to escape the capitols always watchful eyes. 

No one brought up Elia. None of you needed to. Oberyn wasn't here by coincidence, and neither were you. Something would snap eventually. It always does. So for now, things kept going and you could just pretend.

The lovers had a routine, your time became equally split between each of them. Oberyn’s new place on the small council kept his days busy in the Red Keep, so Ellaria had your time during the day. The woman was light, and full of life. Listening to her spin stories of the people she’s met, places she’s been, trouble she’s found herself in and it all makes you yearn for a kind of freedom you never had. 

Evenings and into the night were spent with both of them usually, but Ellaria gave him the space to keep you all to himself most of the time. To them, they had spent many years together, giving up time with each other to allow them separate time with you which didn't even phase the other. 

This particular evening, Ellaria had found a spot at the table away from you both, so she could write to her daughters in peace. You and Oberyn had moved to the bed, trying to let her work quietly, but the distance did nothing to deafen your laughter. 

“I’m just saying, picturing you as a full Maester might be the most absurd thing I’ve ever imagined.” Your body splayed out, only your elbows holding you up slightly as Oberyn splayed over your legs, keeping you trapped from scrambling away further. 

“What? You’re not turned on imagining me dressed in boring rags? Puttering around weak and feeble from like the Grandmaester Pycelle? Only getting your attention from whines and sympathy?” Making his way up so he took up the space over your chest, smile shining as he dares you to picture that. 

Almost without thinking, your head leaned back in laughter, before you flopped your body back down entirely on the bed as you spoke. “He’s not as weak as he plays at. You wouldn’t believe the stories some of the girls come back with. Based on what they say he’s probably that slow because he’s constantly exhausted from the night before.” 

For a moment your eyes widen, realizing you’ve spilt something the Grandmaester probably would like to keep secret. Oberyn’s fingers start toying with your dress, forcing a frown like a child, “Well if you’re so enamored with him, I’m sure he’d love to work something out.” 

Slapping at his hands to shove him away, but he’s faster and more sly, tugging and pulling just enough to almost expose you. 

His laugh is deep and almost adorable at your disgusted shout through laughter, “Stop, if you’re gonna be that disgusting you’re not allowed to touch me.” 

All he can do is once more moving up your body more, such clearly fake sincere looks on his face. “So I’m not good enough you admit,” Nose brushing against yours as you rustle under him, “We can always roleplay if that helps.” 

His smirk was too much, summoning just enough strength to shove his broad chest away from you, so you could sit up properly. “Alright , enough.” Playfully pointing at him turns into a light smack as he tries to grab at your hands. “I was amused imagining you so uniform and boring, but now I’m just horrified.” 

Settling closer to your own body, he starts to tenderly push the messy pieces of hair back into place, almost without thinking. “They aren’t all boring at the Citadel,” pausing in his movements for a second he half shrugs, “Well, most of them are. I forged six links before I had enough of how incredibly bored I was. Besides, I have needs I’d prefer not to ignore.” His hand traced down your dress’s neckline before sliding his legs onto the bed properly to lay next to you, more propped up. 

Laying now on your side to see him properly, your head sat upright on your palm. “Is that where you got your name? From the poisons you studied there?” 

A fond smile crossed his lips, “Somewhat. It didn’t start spreading around until after I had left, when they realized I found ways to use poison with my weapons instead of replacing them. What did you think it referred to?” 

Your free hand resting along your hip gestured up to his body before finding a tiny grasp on the edge of his shirt. “I always just assumed it was because everyone always said you fought and moved so fast and sleek as you fought. Viper, because that’s like how snakes move around.” 

Oberyn moved to grab wine that was previously being ignored. Helping move you to sit propped up, face turned closer to his. “That’s a reasonable guess. But people simply realized that a snake’s bite is far more dangerous than how fast it moves.” His hand coming up to your lips, a tight watchful gaze behind his dark eyes as he gently pours some into your mouth. “You wouldn’t believe the ways you can hide a poison in plain sight.” 

His hand pulled away, as you drew a hand up to your chest in mock horror, “I should have known. Feeding me with something to trick me into liking you. I knew a man so attractive but charismatic was just too unrealistic to not be a trick.” 

You watched the muscles in his neck move as he took a sip of his own, but watching the barley held back lust pleading to be let out in your eyes. Reaching blindly behind to put it back down, he pulled your chin in with his fingers closer to whisper, that sly seductive look painted all across it. “That’s hurtful, if I slipped you anything, it would be much more likely an aphrodisiac, get you more worked up to my touch, not more brainless.”

Oberyn captured your lips in a brief kiss, just with enough force to start pulling you under his spell before he pulled away. As he leaned up so his torso sat upright, you leaned in to sit almost cross legged beside him, looking now with genuine wonder. “But really, there’s that much to learn about poisons that you can spend years on it?” 

You could see his thoughts drifting, even as he looked you in the eye, for a moment he was drawn into his own plans it seemed. He returned to you almost in a blink, seemingly pushing whatever it was down for the time being. “Most of them are quite similar. But it’s those very tiny changes in your mixture that can turn it in either direction.” 

His hand reached out, cupping your cheek as he lost the other part of him in your eager and intrigued expression. “For some using a tasteless and painless way to kill us preferred. Most don’t deserve to go otherwise, especially in such a spectacle.” 

Grabbing the hand on your cheek, you brought it around to kiss his knuckles. Holding it to the exposed skin near your heart. “And the others?” 

Oberyn knew you didn’t have any intentions asking that, you were a curious little thing after such a reserved existence. Still those thoughts flowed back to the surface. He’s not sure where you fit in with this plan, or how it will play out. Ellaria has spent years by his side to understand what she was getting herself into when coming here. 

You came here under someone else’s orders, for a reason unknown to either of you, but more and more you were creeping your way into his. Mapping a way to keep you safe, without leaving you behind in the dark. 

The next few days were going to determine many things for a number of people in the city, including himself. So he had to think carefully, and for now, he could only answer carefully as well. 

“The other kinds are cruel. A burning pain that can leave one in such agony they want to end themselves before the poison finally does. It’s rare that someone would deserve to die like that. But they do exist, and they’ll get nothing more than what they deserve.” 

Oberyn's eyes flashing dark and intense, lost in his pain, his rage. So you pushed gently at his chest to lay own, draping your body over his chest and captured his soft lips with yours to soothe the darkness away.

For now that was enough, but you felt something more again. An approaching storm you wouldn't be able to navigate alone.

A unknown that plauges you with fear.

#oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell imagine #Oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell x female reader #Oberyn Martell x reader x Ellaria Sand #Oberyn Martell x female reader x Ellaria Sand #Oberyn Martell x you x Ellaria Sand #game of thrones fanfiction #a song of ice and fire fanfiction #oberyn martell fanfiction

[thesherrinfordfacility]

I am going to hazard a guess and predict that most queer viewers are going to side with Crowley in the divorce? The subtext here is usually that Crowley is a queer person who is comfortable in their identity while Aziraphale still doesn't let go of the church and internalized homophobia. And then asking Crowley to try to conform in a way that Crowley has never been comfortable with, implying that in order for this relationship to work you need to be something that you're not (especially potent bc Crowley in particular is explicitly nonbinary/ gender fluid)... its almost violating. That should clearly be asking too much of him and it only hurts worse to realize that Aziraphale doesn't realize that and doesn't truly accept Crowley as he is. Which is a fundamentally Queer Experience Thing.

okay again full disclosure i am not queer, so im only going to answer this to the best of my ability besties, if i don't write things right or deliberately misunderstand a nuance in this, please know im doing my best and anything that is upsetting or offensive please tell me, i am so not qualified to answer this... but nonnie has asked so i shall give it a go!!!✨💓 (cut bc length)

genuine question here: wouldn't, arguably, in this whole choosing sides thing, crowley vs aziraphale, be exactly what divides the queer community? those that could sympathise with aziraphale and his allegory vs those that could sympathise with crowley? this is a genuine question bc i would have thought depending on your (general you) guys' (nb) variety of experiences, good and bad, there are those that could see either side or both?

as for trying to make crowley conform - i'm not going to argue this per se, bc i realise that this must be a very painful concept or experience to go through, and i Will Not invalidate that. but on the other side of the argument, whilst i see and agree that this is how aziraphale could be interpreted generally in this argument, i didn't see it this way at all. not when taking into account aziraphale's whole demeanour in s2.

my understanding is that, as far as the canon has showed us, aziraphale knows very little about the true circumstances of crowley's fall (only that aziraphale warned him against asking questions), and even less about crowley's inner feelings on the matter. whenever aziraphale mentions it, or crowley having been an angel, crowley understandably responds aggressively and angry and obviously that it's still painful.

i don't think it's too far beyond reason for aziraphale to think that crowley - a good demon - might want to take a chance to have the wrong righted (as he sees it), to receive what aziraphale would consider a boon, an apology. whilst he's not in hell's clutches, crowley would have the chance to be free of hell completely. furthermore, it's a chance for them to be together, as friends or otherwise (obvs the metatron conversation is before crowley's confession), and to build the world they want - fair and honest and kind - together. because it's not as if crowley doesn't want that, but he just won't go anywhere near being an angel in order to do it - borne of fear yes but also resentment and bitterness... possibly even arrogance.

aziraphale does lord his angelic status over crowley especially in s1, and does hold a very black and white view over angels = good, demons = bad, but for the most part i think he has started to explore the possibility of grey more in s2. he starts to ease back on crowley and concentrate on making him feel wanted and loved (however that might look on Their Side), but still leaving him agency.

ive talked about aziraphale putting him on a pedestal and that is true, but the person on that pedestal, I don't think, is angel crowley - i don't think it's that simple. i think it's good demon crowley. and that good demon crowley would want to change the world, right?? well, he's got to be an angel to do it - even better!!!

so i didn't necessarily see it as aziraphale wanting to change crowley at all, but instead him thinking that based on what crowley has told him, of course crowley would want this!!! he deserves to be forgiven and restored, he's earnt it and he's a good person!!! but aziraphale unfortunately reneges on his emerging attempts to give crowley that agency, and instead decides for him. i don't think it was necessarily out of wanting to change crowley, but instead him not knowing the full story and therefore choosing a resolution for crowley out of love and respect... but one that crowley doesn't want.

these boys REFUSE to communicate and 👏 it 👏 shows👏✨

#good omens #good omens season 2 #good omens spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #god this one was hard to explain #anon i hope i made sense!!!! #not a shitpost but its good omens babyyyy #ask

[doraambrose]

saw ur batfam fanon takes - and question: can you even find fanfic that doesn’t have any of that?

i agree with 95% of ur post, but just on a personal level, I love a good dad bruce fic. bc i grew up reading comics and the good dad bruce panels were few and far between, I love fanon content of him fixing his relationship with his kids, it heals my inner child lol

anyways, back to my qs, do u have and strictly canon fic recs then?

Hello! This is my first ask ever so excuse my excitement lol. In terms of fics that are strictly Canon, I have not found one yet. There are some fics that have some of those elements, but theyre slight enough that it doesnt ruin the whole story. But to be fair, I haven't been reading a whole lot lately as I am very busy with work and school. I will admit that I do have some guilty pleasure fics that are definitely not Canon. @lightwing-s is writing a series called "baby steps" that I have been loving as a guilty pleasure. I'm also on this forum on the DC universe infinite website and a friend of mine who lives near my dad writes REALLY GOOD redhood stories and her dream is to write for him as a DC writer. That's invite only but maybe one day, I'll ask her if I can share some of her writing. I also dont read a whole lot of fics that don't center around Jason Todd. I'm also into sickfics and hurt fics, mental health, that kind of stuff (unfortunately thats where most of the bruce calling jason sweetheart comes from 🤢) There are some fics that I do like :

Pinstripedjackalope on AO3 has a couple good jason sickfics that show jason and Roy in a platonic friendship as well. The Curse of a Turkey Sandwich and Stick the Landing are really good

I just recently read this fic with jason and rose wilson that I kind of enjoyed, but I'll admit it's a little offbrand for Rose. It's also on AO3, it's Respite by Creatchure

There's a fic I have wanted to read but haven't gotten a chance yet called Nyx the destroyer from the shadows by killkid001

There's also this fic on AO3 that I loved a lot about Jason and Tyler and their first night together after jason adopted him. It was really great but I just can't find it anywhere now.

That's all off the top of my head because I have the memory of a goldfish but I'll post some fic recs as I find them :)

Thanks!

#jason todd #batfam #batman #bruce wayne #red hood #dc comics #dc universe

[mysteriouslybluepirate]

The major win for me after this season is that fans are going to start writing horror/supernatural fiction for this fandom!

A genera or tone many of y'all probably haven't touched-but I assure you, it's SO much fun to write with the characters Canon has given us. May I tempt you with a few starting concepts I use to set the mood for pirate-specific horror? [Some spoilers for S2 OFMD]

Doldrums! A period where a ship gets no wind- can anywhere from a few minutes or potentially months at a time. unpredictable and impossible to plan for, as if you kept stock for doldrums, you're adding a TON of salted beef and green water to your stores. More supplies means less room for loot. During this time-on top of slowly losing food and water rations. Your crew could start to hallucinate, go sun blind, or grow bored of menial work. That and if your near the equator(where most took place)- the sun cooks the wood of your top deck.

It gets REALLY dark it night. Like. I don't think OFMD has shown a scene that really depicts how dark it is. The point of the night lookout is to have maybe one candle lit at night by the helm, steer the ship, and keep an eye out for any dots of light on the horizon.

I highly recommend watching videos of pirate battles. Assassins Creed 4, recreations, people reading off accounts of battle. Anything. That shit is scary as hell. A lot of praying the wind is on your side, or that a gust of wind wouldn't knock the ship out of line of fire. Many pirates were caught because they were at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Now- The psychological shit- Most first mates were chosen by their captain. While the Captain themselves were elected by the crew. If a Captain was mutinied, the first mate would be as well for fear of the first mate was more loyal to the old captain than the crew. This is why Ed's speech to Frenchie S2ep2 makes sense. Ed knows the crew was iffy with Izzy, but didn't want to risk Izzy staying alive to possibly start a mutiny against him. So Frenchie had to kill Izzy.

Most Pirates lasted *at most* 2 years at this point in history. Blackbeard lasted 15 months. Bonnet lasted AS A PIRATE from Spring 1717 to November 10th 1718. Being hung in December of 1718. Read up on how common it was to just...go overboard. Or get so drunk your crew couldn't fight back against the English. This is how Calico Jack, Anne Bonne, and Mary(Mark) Reed went down. People not ready to fight caught with their pants down. Play up how every feels like they're walking into their own noose.

Many diseases spread like wildfire among the lower crew. So crews took 'quarantining' measures very seriously for things like dysentery and malaria. Often throwing bodies overboard.

S2 ep5 (top 3 eps of the show for me) WAS SO RIGHT ABOUT WHY SUPERSTITIONS WERE IMPORTANT TO MANAGE. Again what I said about how easy it was for the crew to turn on a captain they didn't like. But any form of doubt tword your captain could be enough to start the brewing's of a mutiny.

At the time. Going overboard was a death sentence. Many sailors didn't learn to swim as trying swimming usually meant that 1.) Your ship went down in battle and your about to be captured by the authorities or 2.) You went overboard in a storm/your ship sunk. So either way your fucked. Many thought just drowning was a more peaceful death than trying to fight for your life, drowning once exhausted.

The only thing between you and the endless abyss at any point in time is a few layers of creaking, slowly rotting, wood

Ships would creak. They're made of wood and you know how houses shift? SO DO SHIPS. During rough waves or even just at random points in the day.

The sails had to manually be raised in/before storms by climbing up the mast, going out, stepping on a VERY thin peice of rope tied off at the ends of each yard(I always call them 'yard lines', but don't quote me) they'd then reach over and pull the sail up to then fasten down. This took a dozen men on a large ship. (You can see this person standing a thicker version of it in the photo below)

Masts are VERY heavy. A mast cracking and crashing onto deck could cause enough damage to sink a ship.

The Black Dot- a superstition that if you see a black dot left on your door/ or on your person (ie someone slipping it in your pocket) means you will die soon. Usually given to someone higher rank before a mutiny. We have no proof this was a real thing but a LOT of pirate media uses it.

Add more if you think of them!! [I might do a tropes based on the more supernatural elements of horror later, but for most tropes (mermaids, ghost ships, poltergeists, selkies) I think the fandom has it covered]

#ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd season 2 #our flag means death #ofmd fanfic #izzy hands #edward teach #stede bonnet #pirates #horror #horror writing #ofmd s2 ep5 #ofmd horror #idk. weird tag but it might catch on????

[secretagentspydetectiveninja]

It's quite hard to put this into words, and I don't mean to sound as if anyone is wrong or should be ashamed of interpreting things in different ways, because that's absolutely not what I mean, but following on from the whole "there IS a platonic explanation if you're not a coward" thing...

Is it me, or are romantic interpretations of characters, scenes, lines of dialogue etc, often considered more valid or important than aromantic interpretations, even if there's significantly less evidence for them? A character could be consistently and repeatedly showing disinterest in romance, subtextually or even textually (!!) aro, but if there's even the slightest thing that could potentially be twisted and viewed in a romantic sense, that will end up taking priority, no matter how much reaching is involved. Anything that can be seen as romantic automatically gets valued higher than the mountains of everything else screaming that it's not the case. Even if it's out of character, even if it goes directly against established canon, even if you have to jump through hoops to get there.

And like, theoretically it's fine, I don't mind in the slightest how people interpret things. It's all personal and subjective and that's fine! But the fact that valuing romantic interpretations so highly to the detriment of anything else is so widespread to the point where sometimes it feels like you're the silly one if you're seeing an obviously aro character as aro, that romantic interpretations are just inherently more important somehow, or that they just inherently make more sense... It feels almost like to most people, the non-romantic interpretation is the absolute last resort, the one you'll only be forced to concede to if there is absolutely no romantic way you can spin it.

I don't know what I'm trying to say here, really. I guess it's just tiring watching people dig and twist and reach and put so much effort into finding ways to throw away as much blatant aromantic subtext as they can because they see literally any tiny hint of romance to be preferable, and then that gets picked up on by everyone else and becomes the prevailing interpretation... It doesn't happen nowadays anywhere near as much as it used to, and for that I'm glad. But it absolutely does still happen. And yes, I do think people should be able to look at things and interpret them however they want, but... man, as an aromantic, it's tiring.

#can we honestly just start calling things 'aro subtext' even if it was definitely unintentional #can we all start doing that. i think it would do the world some good #aromantic #random stuff #aro stuff #debating so hard whether to even post this or not bc i prefer to keep my blog lighthearted but

[my-mt-heart]

The Shipbaiting Is Not Okay...

It doesn’t matter that Isabelle is a nun. It doesn’t matter that Daryl’s feelings aren’t confirmed, and it doesn’t matter that they ultimately won’t get together. The baiting, the relentless effort to make the audience think that they will, is the most heavy-handed we’ve ever seen and that in itself disrespects Daryl, a character who "falls in love forever," who represents unconventional masculinity, whose fanbase thrived on the vulnerability, loyalty, and unconditional love he showed Carol over 11 seasons.

Whereas Angela Kang’s juxtapositions between Caryl and Daryl/Leah demonstrated Daryl's devotion to Carol, preparing us for eventual canon, the drama behind the scenes last year makes it highly unlikely Zabel wrote le spinoff with Caryl endgame in mind, at least not until much further down the line if at all. Yes, there are a few allusions to Carol in the first half of S1, but they seem shoehorned in or left open to interpretation. I fear that’s because, until Melissa signed on for S2, AMC and Zabel felt compelled to tease an alternative endgame just in case “cool dude doing cool things in cool places” wasn’t a strong enough motivation to watch. The problem is, aside from turning Daryl into the conventional hero he isn’t, they’re just recycling key elements of Caryl's relationship.

In the jarring bath scene for example, Isabelle and Daryl see each other’s scars, lending credence to an observation Isabelle makes later that they were both “broken until the world ended.” Well, that’s Carol and Daryl in a nutshell. The abuse they both suffered before the ZA helped them relate to each other, see straight through the misconceptions others had of them, and raise each other up to become the most loyal, most loving, and fiercest survivors of the flagship show. Fans clocked their soulmatism early on, rooting for their romantically-coded interactions during their search for Sophia to blossom into a full-blown relationship. Since the hope for a child's future also lays the groundwork for Daryl’s and Isabelle’s bond, it seems like AMC was hoping the similarities would evoke the same emotional response from viewers. Maybe they were hoping fresh eyes would see the same potential for Daryl and Isabelle that we saw in Caryl while long time viewers would get lost in the nostalgia of it all.

In any case, it doesn't work. It can't because as great as Clemence’s performance is, she and Norman don't have McReedus' chemistry. Daryl’s and Isabelle’s relationship hasn't had anywhere near the same amount of time to grow into what people love about Daryl and Carol. Female characters aren't interchangeable. People weren't fooled when Maggie adopted Carol's fashion sense in the pilot of yet another male-driven spinoff, and people aren't fooled now.

From the scenes I've watched and what many fans have been saying, some of Isabelle's behavior comes off as emotionally manipulative, especially when she accuses Daryl of abandoning Laurent the way his abusive father abandoned him. It’s an absolutely ridiculous line because Daryl is not like his father. Carol and TF showed him that. Daryl also just met this kid. Caring about him and wanting to keep him safe are honorable, but that doesn't obligate him to stay. The scene is unsettling, and when you consider Daryl's history, it makes the shipbaiting even more questionable.

I know some think it sets up the opportunity for Isabelle to take a darker turn in S2 much like Leah did in S11. Like I said, there's a clear juxtaposition between Daryl telling Isabelle that France doesn't feel like the place he's supposed to be and him telling Carol he does know where he's supposed to be. We know Norman and Nicotero are more than familiar with that arc, so if they wanted to, they could give us the missing payoff through Isabelle (sans having to sit through a canon relationship between her and Daryl first). The problem is, we also know Norman hated that arc and I can’t imagine he’d want to repeat it. What’s worse is that Zabel's comments about a potential romance between Daryl and Isabelle don't address the toxicity of some of their interactions, which makes me worried he's not even aware of what he's writing.

I’m not saying Caryl fans won’t get what they want. Now that we know Carol is back and Melissa has just as much input on her story as Norman has had on Daryl's, there's more reason to hope for S2 to be good. Daryl and Carol could, and should, go canon and I could go back to celebrating my favorite characters with deep analyses, minisodes, and whatever else I did to try to spread joy (I barely remember anymore. I was so young a year and a half ago).

In the meantime, especially because of S1’s gimmicky ending, I reserve the right to be angry and skeptical. The backlash following le spinoff’s announcement last April should’ve told AMC loud and clear what we want to watch and what we don't want to watch. They had so many chances to earn back our trust—revert to the original premise, revise Daryl’s arc, remove the shipbaiting, tease a Caryl romance, give Carol’s first appearance more substance, SOMETHING—but they were more concerned about saving face, and now their audience for S2 has a lot to think about.

What was the significance of Daryl's growth in the flagship if the spinoff was going to regress him to the person he was in the early seasons? What am I supposed to make of his most intimate scenes with Carol if he can be placed in (poorly nuanced) intimate situations with a stranger? What am I supposed to feel when Carol presumably does everything in her power to find Daryl, and he’s conflicted about where he belongs?

Daryl and Carol said they loved each other in TWD’s series finale. Neither of those characters ever throw those words around, so when they say it, we know it isn't just a simple declaration. It's a promise that should keep Daryl grounded during his misadventure in France, yet the spinoff never explicitly addresses it. They want to keep Daryl's feelings ambiguous so they can build unnecessary tension. It's frustrating. After having their worst fears exploited for years, Caryl fans deserve a story that fulfills their deepest desires. They—and Melissa herself—deserve peace from the cyber bullying AMC, Zabel, and co. perpetuate the longer they deny representation of an earned relationship between a man and woman both over fifty. Caryl fans are supposed to be resilient, but S1 overall is a pretty low blow. I just want to look forward to S2 without feeling like I'm getting jerked around.

#Caryl #caryl spinoff #carol peletier #melissa mcbride #darylneedscarol #the book of carol #twd caryl

[fyrefrostanimus]

Day 1 (AU Prompt): Bad Ending

Man I underperformed for this one imo. I wanted to do more but the art block fucking slapped me just in time

So after asking the event host puhpandas if just talking about this was enough and getting yes as an answer, I present to you this AU I came up with after the release of Ruin but didn't know how to share it, we have this AU (it's original name was the Illustrated Lullaby AU but I'm not sure if the name really sticks for me).

TL;DR in case my insane ramblings about this AU I have never mentioned anywhere before but have had in my mind for months are incomprehensible: Burntrap Ending is canon, Gregory dies while separated from Freddy, possesses Daycare Attendant, and when Cassie eventually shows up come Ruin Gregory tries to tell her what actually happened to him, eventually having to do it through comics since he can't really get through Eclipse.

------

Everything is the same as the base game's Burntrap Ending until the actual ending cutscene. Glamrock Freddy gets stuck behind while Gregory, who's smaller, can still move forward. He hates having to leave Freddy behind after bonding the whole night, but Freddy also wanted him to keep going and get out of the flaming sinkhole as quickly as possible. The problem is that he got lost. Any way out he found was already either on fire or blocked by the fallen debris, until there was no way out. Eventually smoke inhalation killed him from being near the fire for so long.

I'm not quite sure how Gregory ends up possessing the Daycare Attendant in the original just-after-Ruin cut, but then I noticed just how similar this was to Charlie's death and possessing the Puppet, so I decided to stick with the "history repeats itself" idea to a degree. The Daycare Attendant finds him once the fire dies down: Gregory is still alive yet past saving, but at least getting him out of the hell pit in case anyone comes looking for him would be nice. Little guy dies shortly after the two of them get out of the sinkhole (it's easier when you're tall and used to climbing things like the DCA).

I know this is about Gregory but imagine being the Daycare Attendant watching this kid die, only to hear him "wake up" 30 seconds after in your head. That's pretty much what happened here and both parties freak out. FazEnt. wiped most of the popularly-known stuff about the animatronics being possessed so it seemed more like a joke when kids' grandparents brought it up. Sun and Moon didn't expect it to be a real thing, or that they'd be stuck with the ghost kid for an indefinite amount of time. Gregory took a little longer to realize he died since he wasn't fully conscious when it happened, but when he did figure it out he was pretty much bawling (he usually holds it back or suppresses it, but since he could feel Sun and Moon's emotions, he guessed that they could do the same with him and it was pointless trying to hide it this time).

It's kinda random stuff to bridge the gap of a few months between base Security Breach and Ruin. Gregory meets Sassy Sun (A.K.A. how Sun ACTUALLY acts as shown in HW 2) and that's pretty funny to him since before the sinkhole they genuinely seemed childish, they draw stuff together since they all enjoy art, etc.. They're all stuck together, so they have to get to know each other if they don't want to go absolutely insane. Only about half of the daycare is destroyed (it would definitely be more if I'm being accurate to real sinkholes) and it's a mostly safe place as almost every dangerous animatronic melted in the pit. All three of the bodymates have pretty much agreed not to go back down there, for understandable reasons.

Ruin arrives, and Cassie's getting a call on her Roxy talkie supposedly from Gregory that he's in the sinkhole. We all know where this leads but hey, dramatic irony. Everything once again goes as Ruin does at the beginning minus the Monty attack and Glamrock Chica appearing, except after rebooting Eclipse, they join her (after a lot of pushing from Gregory since it became clear she wasn't leaving). He tries to tell her that he's there, but since Sun and Moon merged to make Eclipse, he doesn't really have much he can do in the terms of speech. But he's still given the freedom to draw, so he tries using that. And it somewhat starts working. Whenever Cassie isn't one the move, he's making a clue as to try and at least let her know that whoever is on the other end of the line isn't him.

I don't know how I want this AU to actually end. Part of me wants to lean completely into the "history repeats itself" idea and have Gregory start Puppet 2: Electric Boogaloo, but he's also his own character and might not do that simply because to him, this is hell, and he doesn't want Cassie experiencing that even if it means she's gone for good. Or maybe it has a good ending where the cycle doesn't quite repeat, and she goes free with closure on what happened to Gregory. I'm definitely leaning to "history repeats itself" though.

And a height chart because it's all my dumb ass could draw before the art block took my lunch money

Idk if this is actually how tall the DCA is but the idea of them being comically tall and towering over the kiddos is fun okay

@ggyweek2024

#ggy fanweek 2024 #fyrefrosts fnaf au hell #fnaf au #fnaf gregory #fnaf cassie