#it fit spooky season so here we are

[stillgotme]

𝕴𝖇𝖚 ‡ 𝕲𝖔𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝕯𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍

It's in the blood and this is tradition

She moved with such grace, yet killed with no mercy. One barely had time to take in her beauty before she reaped their souls. After what happened to her, she was going to make sure every man feared her. 

No one ever escaped.

So she earned the name Ibu, the Goddess of Death.

#the sims 4 #ts4 #sims 4 #ts4 edit #ts4 render #simblr #simblreen #simblreen 2023 #aliya's sims #amongussy #roxy #theseus 08085 #as promised here's the edit i said i'd do before japan #it fit spooky season so here we are #ibu is the goddess of death in filipino mythology and roxy is filipino #think of john wick being known as babayaga #i can once again write a 5 page essay on what all this means #the song and her lore all come together for this #yes only i know it #but ANYWAY happy simblreen sorry i disappear and drop a random edit nowadays

[enchanterium-fan-account]

“This is a perfect example of how our conversations go.”

“This is not a conversation. I’m talking to you and you are clowning.”

The holiday calendar trudges along. Halloween is past and so the scales of seasons are tipping from spooky skulls to Christmas trees. And SPEAKING of scales, it may be a little bit late, but here is Enchanterium’s latest zodiac doll, Libra!

This doll’s two random prompts were chosen with a good old wheel of fortune, and they were clouds and dragon, fitting for an air sign. Let’s go!

“Libras are known for being well-balanced, patient, charming, and generous. And our typical European dragon is kind of the opposite of that.”

“I am here outside the hazardous materials lab, and I have a knife in my head because we just finished shooting the Halloween intro.”

“Can I try or are you afraid?”

“Try it, I will superglue it if you mess it up.”

“At this point I’m just improvising. Glueing wefts, taking them off, being frustrated, and crying inside.”

And here’s Libra! I think this doll turned out super cool, I love the little fangs going up and the way they balanced scales from her antlers. And yes, Libra season ended a little bit ago, but rest assured Scorpio will be here in time for their own season!

If you enjoy the video, consider subscribing to the Enchanterium YouTube channel! 💙💚💖

#zodiac #Libra #zodiac libra #doll customization #dollblr #enchanterium

[azsazz]

More vamp azzy as we all desperately need.

This one is a request from an anon: “Okay so for vamp Az. I’m not sure if vampires eat anything other than blood but if not, then imagine him trying to cook anything for reader because she got sick or something. I don’t want to get into too many details since you only asked for ideas so totally no pressure! I fell hopelessly in love with vamp Az and am so excited for more!! ❤️‍🔥And spooky season is coming and it just fits perfectly 😌🧛🏼”

**Not edited!**

A clatter from the kitchen shocks you from your sleep. Your eyes are heavy and sore, nose stuffed and mouth dry. You cough a little as you swallow, trying to wet your throat and gather your bearings.

Your blanket sits heavy on your body, and you notice not only one, but three thick comforters piled up and tucked under your chin. You’re a cocoon of warmth, and despite the chill wracking your bones, sweat dampens your forehead.

The couch is as good as any bed, but the room is missing the body of the vampire you’ve become accustomed to seeing. Azriel doesn’t need sleep, not that you have noticed anyway, but he often never lets you leave his sight, even if he knows you’re in your rooms or his excellent hearing picks up on you prowling around his home during the daylight hours.

You’ve grown into his schedule, sleeping away the days and staying up during the nights. You hadn’t even realized you’d been doing it until as of late. It had been purely survival instinct at first, to stay up for as long as possible. You pulled open the thick, black, heavy curtains to let the sun stream through the windows, hoping it would keep Azriel away from you, but he’d only reached into the blazing sun to pull them shut again. It how his hands got like this, you realized, when they had started sizzling and one had caught fire from the sun. He hadn’t hissed, but the hazel of his eyes gleamed in a way that had scared you and made your stomach twist. It was paired with a hint of fang, the curve of his lips telling you all you needed to know about him.

You weren’t going anywhere.

The other night, you had attempted escape, to no avail.

Azriel had been away at one of his meetings, with whom or about what you didn’t know, but you’d managed to shimmy open one of the ancient windows. There was a storm raging, and it seemed like the perfect escape. The rain would cover your scent and would wash away your footprints in the mud.

You hadn’t anticipated being hunted through the woods.

Being out in the rain that long hadn’t been good for you, but the fucking you received when Azriel had found you had almost made it worth it. He’d taken you right there in the middle of the forest, and then again when he wrangled you home and lit a fire in the hearth so big it rivaled those of Hel. He’d been silent the entire time, even as he lied you down to dry and fucked you deep. You thought your shivering body was due to his cold hands and wicked tongue, not the oncoming cold.

The noise is followed by a low string of curses that you’re sure he means to keep soft. Your eyes slide shut again, exhausted and too achy to move.

It’s better to keep silent, not draw his attention to you no matter how badly you want a glass of water.

It doesn’t take long for him to enter the room. He holds a bowl in one hand and helps you sit up with the other. You can’t help but notice the bulge of his biceps from underneath his tight shirt as he does so, and you didn’t think that your mouth could possibly get any drier, but here you are.

You stare at the bowl wearily, then back up at him, heart stumbling at the nervous look on his face.

“You can cook?” You ask, watching as he paces to the hearth to stoke the fire. He avoids your eyes, not wanting to see the sympathy swimming in them.

“I used to be able to, once upon a time,” Azriel’s voice is soft, longing. He can no longer consume food that sustains you, you realize. You find yourself aching for him, a little.

“And now you can’t eat,” you trail off, glancing to your bowl again. It smells delicious, the scents of vegetables and spices filling the room with warmth. Your freezing fingers are beginning to thaw already.

Azriel shakes his head in response, gesturing to the bowl. You pick up the spoon, dipping it into the bowl. You see the carrots and shallots swimming in it, along with barley and herbs that make it taste like heaven.

You can’t help but to groan pleasurably, the flavors exploding on your tongue. “For someone who can’t eat, this is delicious.”

“I can eat, but there’s no use,” Azriel says, eyes intent on you as he watches you take another bite. He’s filled with pleasure at the sight of you enjoying something he’d made for you, and he can admit that he did have fun being in the kitchen again. “Everything tastes boring and it’s not the kind of thing that can sustain me.”

Right. Your stomach swirls, thinking about the blood he needs to consume in order to survive. You feel a little sick at the thought that this is what he’s taken you for, to use you for pleasure to ultimately drain you one day.

You shiver but shove the thought away. Azriel’s eyes grow warmer with each spoonful you take, and there’s something itching at you to be nice to him, despite everything that’s happened between the both of you. He had taken you in from the rain, most likely saving your life in the process, and now he’s feeding you.

You find a part of yourself wanting to return the favor.

“Eat with me,” you say, patting the spot you’d just sat up from. It’s piled with pillows but you can surely shove them aside to make room for Azriel.

“What?” He asks, brows furrowing deeply. He looks like he’s about to protest but you’re cutting him off before he can.

“Come on, come eat with me.”

Azriel stares at you like you’ve grown a second head and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

“I just told you that it doesn’t matter if I eat.”

“Then come eat.”

It’s clear you’re not giving up on this. Azriel sighs, pushing to his feet and striding towards the kitchen to get his own bowl.

But you’re a stubborn one. He doesn’t expect you to grab for him, and you’re as quick as an asp. He’s not expecting the feel of your hands on his exposed forearms, sleeves of his thick, black shirt rolled up to keep away from the food as he was cooking.

“You can share with me.”

“No,” he says, voice harsh and demanding. “You ned to eat.”

You quirk a brow. “Afraid of catching a little cold?”

Azriel can’t contain the rolling of his eyes and you want to laugh at how human it makes him look.

“I can’t catch a cold.”

“Of course you can’t,” you agree, shoving the pillows onto the floor and biting back a grin at Azriel’s grimace. “Now sit down and eat.”

#azsazz #acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #vampire!azriel #vampire bat boys #acomaf #azsazz drabbles

[windvexer]

growth in witchcraft as shedding of snake-skin

Sort of obvious, but I had to learn it (like everything else) the hard way. And as spooky season approaches and people may be revitalizing their practices after breaks, I want to say something that might end up saving a couple folks from a lot of frustration and heartbreak:

Just because it worked that way for you in the past, doesn't mean that's how it works for you now.

I mean this in a literal, making-stuff-happen with magic and sorcery way.

You guys have heard the adage that some spirit guides are with you for life, some for short periods, some for just one lesson, etc., right?

Well, the same can be said for sorcerous techniques.

I don't know if I just shed techniques like hermit crabs shed shells or what, but this happens to me a lot. Here's the kind of thing I mean:

You used to do readings with a specific little ritual involving a prayer and incense, but now that technique seems to produce incorrect readings. It feels flat and you can tell you're not connecting.

You used to be able to tie intent into knots and carry the thread around with you all day to conjure specific little occurrences, but now it barely seems to work and manifestation is spotty.

You used to be able to converse with spirits by going into a deep meditation, but now when you try you can hardly connect and it's like their messages are getting blotted out.

And I think sometimes when these things happen, people tend to process this with:

self-blame (I'm not a devoted enough witch, I brought this on myself!),

scapegoating spiritual allies (I used to pray to Hekate before divination but now my divination doesn't work, so Hekate must be mad at me), or

developing personal doubt (I used to think magic worked but now I can't replicate my own results).

When the reality is, if you're a magical snickity-snek and you've shed your skin, you might be slithering about in the soil trying to do the little old things that no longer fit the bigger, better you.

Sometimes this "shedding" is very obvious and we can feel and taste it. "Shedding" may come before, during, or after a period of intense personal transformation. It may come in a numinous moment when you hear a single phrase, or view a single image, that makes you become the Hanged Man and see reality in a whole new way.

But it can also happen without us really noticing it. I might put down my tarot cards for a couple months, pick them up again, and suddenly the ways I used to read don't work for me any more.

It's not because I'm a bad reader, or that the spirits have abandoned me, or that magic isn't real.

It's because what used to work for me doesn't any more, and now I just need to find new techniques.

So if you're trying to pick up what used to work and it just doesn't seem to be helping any more, consider that it's just like outgrowing an old set of clothes. Nothing is wrong with you, or the clothes. It just doesn't fit any more.

Since I think it'd be frustrating as hell to read a post like this without some actionable steps, below the cut are some ideas that might help you develop new techniques if your old ones seem to be failing you.

Start with your beliefs

Examine your own rituals and see if what you're doing still matches what you believe. Let's say you used to pray to Hekate and light incense before divination, but now you do that and your divination doesn't work.

Do you believe Hekate is allowing your divination to be possible? Do you believe she's the best goddess to seek aide from at this time?

What role does the incense play? Is it an offering to Hekate? Is it to feed the ancestors who supply you with interpretations? Is it just to set the correct tone and atmosphere?

Maybe you've grown in your relationship with divinity, and you now believe it's more proper to call on gods with formal prayers - but your divination ritual still uses a simple, improvised prayer.

Maybe your understanding of Hekate has changed and it feels more suitable to call on different powers.

Maybe you feel strangely about constantly "paying" gods to help you, when they say they don't need it - and lighting the incense makes you feel awkward.

Change what you're doing to match what you believe. That's always a solid first step.

Examine your own emotions and reactions

Try performing rituals (from the smallest ritual of stirring intent into coffee, to full-blown compass-casting affairs under the full moon) mindfully.

Be aware of what you're doing as you do it, but also try to examine your own reactionary thoughts and feelings.

Suppose my ritual of stirring my coffee seven times clockwise to manifest a desired emotion doesn't work any more. It used to work great, for years, so I do it quickly. But now it doesn't work, so I do it mindfully.

And while I'm stirring, I watch a few thoughts pop up to the surface: why am I doing this seven times? I'm stirring my coffee for too long and staring into it like an idiot, and it's embarrassing. What if someone thinks I'm weird?

If any individual step of a ritual makes you feel embarrassed, stressed, or avoidant, or if you feel relief from not having to do that any more - that technique is probably not serving you very well.

Seek out methods that make you feel excited, hopeful, empowered, or interested. Or, at the very least, ones that don't make you feel bad.

Be open to shifting your paradigm entirely

Going back to the stirring coffee thing, maybe I think stirring seven times is too much. So I try to stir my coffee three times. But that still feels clunky.

Then I get into left-handed vs right-handed stirring, because someone might have said that doing stuff with your right hand is for blessings.

Then I try out a new little inner mantra while I stir X times with Y hand.

But it's just not working. No matter what I try, it feels like walking barefoot on a gravel road.

So maybe I just need to do something entirely different.

Maybe numerology isn't my thing any more. Maybe now, I just need to embrace my inner divine creator.

Maybe I should think about the ultimately powerful creative energy within rich, black soil - and as I pour my coffee, I can imagine that I'm pouring pure creative energy into my divine cauldron. When I sprinkle in a little sugar, I'm seasoning that creative power to my personal tastes - and no matter how many times I stir it, when I drink that creative power, a new reality blossoms from within me.

No numbers. No memorized chants. No left hand/right hand stuff. Just me, imagining myself as a planet, drinking pure creative energy that will bloom out of my aura as wildflowers bloom in the spring.

Ask for help

I'm not called fool for no reason, and after a couple years of being unable to astral travel - after having successfully done so for years - I finally sat down and asked my spirits for help.

The answer was immediate and simple. So simple, in fact, that I was confident it wouldn't work at all.

Well, of course it worked. I spent years trying to figure out the problem on my own, trying time and time again to use an old technique that I was confident would work. It took a goddess like four seconds to tell me the new way it worked for me.

Even if you're not in communication with spiritual allies, you can still perform divination to help troubleshoot your own magical skills. Try asking a series of questions: what doesn't work for you any more, what you should try, and what you should avoid trying.

When divining, consider the different "levels" of application. A reading that means "don't use excessive force" might refer to high-level life stuff, like, you're working too hard on all your responsibilities right now, learn to relax and the magic will come. But, it might also be referring to something very specific, like, you're trying to raise huge amounts of energy in individual rituals, break them up into smaller spells where much less force is required for each one.

#witchblr #witch community #witch tips #troubleshooting

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Aphelion - 11

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Female Reader, Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand

*Please be sure to consider all chapter warnings before reading! Warnings will be updated for each chapter in individual posts as well as on the Masterlist.

Warnings: language, discussion of the past, mentions of violence, blood and death, mention of self-harm, NSFW, vampirism, biting

Word Count: 16,754

Summary: Oberyn has already told you that it's been 400 years since he last used his mark of protection on someone that he cared about, but when you learn why he stopped using it - and how that decision has shaped his life since then - it sheds new light on what it means that he used it on you. And so does what happens after he shares this with you.

The plan for dealing with the Lannisters is in place, and preparations continue throughout the week - until Toban and Tyene surprise you with something unexpected but extremely welcome.

A/N: HAPPY HALLOWEEN FROM @something-tofightfor & I! We hope that your spooky season is full of fun, treats, and just the right amount of scares. We also hope that you all enjoy this mega-packed chapter! This story continues to be so much fun for us to work on, and we're both really excited about this update and what's still to come. Thank you from the bottoms of our hearts to everyone who has interacted with this story - your comments and reactions make us very happy ghouls.

Also, if you have questions about details or plot points or the way that Westerosi history/world fits into the “real” world- please ask! We don’t want to confuse anyone.

Catch up with the Aphelion masterlist here!

(banner by @valkblue )

It took him more than a few seconds to gather his thoughts, but Oberyn’s hold on you never wavered. You stared out and over the city, the lights glittering in the distance, and you let yourself think again about everything that had happened in the previous hours. No, not just hours … days. 

But unlike Oberyn, you didn’t think silently. 

“I’m not sure if you know this, but …” Closing your eyes, you took a long breath. “If it wasn’t for Golden Lion and my job, I’d probably be in some shitty little apartment in the Midwest right now.” He hummed in response but didn’t speak, one of his hands moving slowly back and forth over your stomach. “I knew what I wanted to do with my life when I was a teenager, but I never really thought that I’d get hired by a company like theirs right out of college.” 

“They did something right, at least.” You snorted at his words, his irritation barely masked by amusement. “Was Golden Lion the first place you’ve worked?” 

“It was my first full time adult job, yeah. I did an internship with them my senior year of college and I guess they were impressed, but …” You shrugged. “They had more than 100 candidates apply for three open positions so I figured I’d get a “thanks but no thanks” letter after a few weeks and started applying to museums and historical programs in places like Michigan and Illinois and Ohio. But instead … I got a job offer with a relocation assistance stipend.” 

It had been one of the best days of your life, and even though you’d learned that Golden Lion - and the Lannisters especially - weren’t the people you’d thought they were, your time at the company had been worthwhile. It taught me so much and it brought me here. 

“They do have a knack for recruiting people with talent.” He sighed, lowering his lips to your shoulder again. “It is an annoying thing that has been true since … well, since the beginning.” 

You felt him smiling and you did, too, still staring out into the darkness. “I had a choice between working in New York, London, one of the Westeros office locations, or here.”

“And you chose California.” He kissed the side of your neck, breathing the next words into your ear. “The City of Angels.” You rolled your eyes every time Los Angeles was referred to that way, but when Oberyn said it, it had the opposite effect on you. I am a walking cliche when it comes to him. 

“I did. Westeros was tempting, just because of everything it would have allowed me to see, but I decided it was too far away for something that I didn’t know if I’d get to do for long. In London I would have been in a really small office and that wasn’t appealing. New York was …” You wrinkled your nose, even though he couldn’t see it. Never New York. “But California? I figured that even if the job didn’t work out, I’d have the beach. And then I met Nora and her friends and it turned out I really liked what I did for work - and most of my coworkers.” You spun to face him, finding that you were blinking back tears. 

You knew it was selfish - that after everything the Lannisters had done to the Martells and to the people Oberyn loved, you had no right to be so upset over something as trivial as your job. But it was important to me. It was a huge part of my life. Everything I worked for. 

“And I think that’s what the worst part of this is. Even though there were always ulterior motives to what they had me doing, it was … I liked it. I liked working for Golden Lion. I learned so much. I met so many people and worked on so many great projects, and …” You glanced up, lips pressed together. “And then I met you, and I realized that I knew so damn much, but I really knew nothing, even after all this time.” 

“Meeting me was the worst part?” He was teasing you, but when you met his eyes you saw concern in them, Oberyn barely concealing a frown as he watched you. “I don’t think that anyone has ever been so bold as to -” That made you laugh, both of your hands coming up to cover your face and wipe some of the tears away. 

“Yes, Oberyn. The worst. I meet an unreasonably hot man that just so happens to be the literal embodiment of every fantasy I’ve ever had in my entire life at a bar. Then two weeks later I’m standing with him on the balcony of a penthouse apartment so fucking nice that I have no business being anywhere near it. Oh, and I’m also wearing a mark of protection from him on my neck that means that he chose me, and -” 

Oberyn moved before you’d even registered it, gathering you in his arms and holding you tight against his chest, face turned down so that he could kiss the top of your head. “I do see how that might be terrible.” Inhaling deeply, you let yourself cry for a few seconds, Oberyn’s arms locked in place. “But you need to look at me.” 

You did, pulling back enough so that you could meet his gaze. The playfulness was still there, but Oberyn’s mood had shifted again, the man mostly serious. “What?” 

“You can’t blame yourself for not knowing the truth. Not many people do. Even those that are like me aren’t … they do not all come from Westeros, or have the same vendettas that we do. And even I have to admit, the things that the Lannisters have done to remain relevant throughout the years … it is impressive. It is even more impressive because like I said, they attract talented people, which means their relevancy lasts.” 

“Yeah, but it’s just … a cover. They used people like me to try and find you, Oberyn. You and your family, and -”

“But think about it.” He loosened his grip on you, taking a half step back and urging you to back up and against the low railing. “How much did you learn? How much did you archive? How much will the records you created teach others? Yes, the end goal was for Lannister benefit, but overall, you’ve done more good for Westeros than you know.” He reached up, fingers curling against your neck so that he could press his thumb to the mark he’d put there. It sent a tingle of heat through you, your lips parting and feet shuffling toward him, both hands rising so that you could grip his shirt. “You know now. And if… when this goes according to plan, I’m sure Tyrion will have no problem getting you back to your position, if that’s what you want. This plan will make him mortal, but getting rid of the rest of the Lannisters puts him at the head of the company by name and lineage, and I do not think that he will mind doing a small favor for me.” 

You hadn’t even thought of that - of the possibility that after everything was done, you could go back. But I’ll need to work. I don’t have thousands of years worth of finances saved somewhere, and I can’t pay my rent here without a job. “We’ll see. We need to get through the next …. When is the wedding again?” 

“The engagement party is next weekend. The wedding follows soon after. They are apparently following the Westerosi custom of the party being used as a lead-in to the main event, but that works in our favor.” 

“Yeah, there’s so much going on no one can have eyes everywhere.” You sighed, closing your eyes. “Thank you for talking me down, Oberyn. I’m sorry I -”

“You never need to apologize to me.” He said your name, the man’s thumb and forefinger tilting your chin up so that you could see his wink. “For anything. I understand what you are going through, and I understand how much your life has changed.” Flattening your hands against his belly, you nodded and then took a deep breath. 

“If you say so. But I need to stop getting sidetracked. We have a lot to talk about and -” You were interrupted by the rumble of your stomach, Oberyn’s eyes immediately dropping at the sound. Shit. Of course he can hear that, he -

“When was the last time you ate?” He tweaked your chin, his smile widening. “It sounds like it’s been a while.” 

“I had some fruit while we talked to Tyrion, but it’s been … hours? Lunch, maybe? I don’t…remember.” You trailed off, frowning. Since the night of the Halloween party, your dining habits had been less than regular. The fact that no one in your company  ate at typical times wasn’t helping, either. “I should have something, though. Or else I won’t be able to sleep tonight.” 

“Stay here.” He nodded twice. “I’ll get you something and then… I’ll tell you about Cameron and Toban.” 

He disappeared back into the apartment, the door closing softly behind him. Once he was gone, you turned back to the railing, gripping it with both hands. You’d wasted time complaining about your job, but not too much, and you knew that even though it was late, there were still hours before sunrise. And he’ll want to stay out here as long as possible. 

Your head swirled with bits of information - what you knew about the Lannisters and the Martells, what you knew about Oberyn and Ellaria’s bond, the vow that Oberyn had made to himself the moment he’d been turned and learned what happened when someone turned others. And you knew that no matter how much time you had to understand it, it would never be enough. Unless that eternity that Toban mentioned is possible. That might be … 

Swiping one hand over your face, you hung your head, opening your eyes so that you could watch the cars on the street far below you. Tyene had offered to change you if you wanted it. Toban’s willingness to step in when necessary had already been tested, but you had a feeling that if he attempted the same thing a second time, even Ellaria’s interference wouldn’t protect him from Oberyn. But I don’t want either of those options. If it’s not Oberyn… it’s no one. 

Linking your fingers together, you stared out and over the city, weight resting on your forearms. Four hundred years is a long time, even for him. And it sounds like Cameron was incredibly important to him but he still wouldn’t … he didn’t even use his mark, he … “It’s late, so I figured you didn’t want anything heavy.” 

Turning at the sound of his voice, you watched as he held up a plate with one hand, a bottle of water held in his curled fingers and a stainless steel bottle tucked under his other arm. “A sandwich? Did you make this? Or was it -”

“I might have been a prince in a past life, and not need to eat in this one, but I know my way around a kitchen.” He grinned as he set everything down on the small table before unfolding the blanket laying atop the outdoor couch. “Come here.” 

You did, stepping in front of him - and when Oberyn draped the material over your shoulders, he used the ends of the blanket to pull you closer, ducking his head down to press a kiss to your lips. That kiss was longer than the last one on the rooftop, but he still broke it much too quickly, stepping back and gesturing for you to sit. “Thank you for … dinner? A midnight snack? Whatever this is, I’m going to inhale it.” 

“Good.” He sat next to you, rolling the container he held between both of his hands. “I hope it is alright with you if I … also eat.” Your eyes flicked from the sandwich in your hand to the bottle in his, both brows shooting up in understanding. Blood. There’s blood in there, and he didn’t want me to see it while he drank. 

“Of course. Eat.” You took a bite, chewing to give yourself a few extra seconds before speaking again. “Oberyn, you don’t have to worry about that with me. I understand what … you are, and what you need.” Elbowing him, you turned your head to look at the man. “And I’ve already seen you at your worst with Clegane, right? So it -”

“That wasn’t anywhere near my worst.” Flipping the straw up on his bottle, Oberyn sipped from it, staring straight ahead. “But yes, you have briefly seen the worst parts of me.” Your stomach dropped at his words, but part of you wasn’t surprised. He’s been alive for 2,000 years, and he thinks… Oh, Oberyn. “I know that you are expecting to hear about Cameron. But to tell you about Cameron, I need to go back much further.” He sipped again, eyes closing as he swallowed. “To Isabel. To before Isabel. I need to tell you why I stopped offering my protection to the humans I cared for.” 

His voice changed as he spoke the woman’s name, and it only took moments for you to figure out who she was. But instead of interrupting, you continued to eat your sandwich, scooting marginally closer to him while you chewed. It took a few seconds, but Oberyn laid an arm over your shoulders, his fingers closing around the far one and squeezing. I’m listening, Oberyn. 

“When Ellaria turned me, I knew that I wouldn’t get my revenge right away. I knew that it could take time, but I never thought … I never thought thousands of years would pass.” He paused, head shaking from side to side slowly. “The longer I waited, the more I needed to do to fill my days. By the time I was given the sunlight again, Ellaria and I were far from Westeros. My immediate relatives were long gone, and there was no sign of the right Lannisters. She took me to Greece and within a year I… we met someone.” 

You weren’t surprised - Oberyn’s magnetism had been well documented in all of the ancient texts that you’d seen, and you imagined that given the opportunity to meet new people in new places, it hadn’t been any different. 

“But it was short lived, because… I wasn’t careful enough. Her association with Ellaria and I put a target on her head, and she was … she was killed because of it. She was killed and we had to leave, and it was only then that Ellaria explained the process of marking someone for safety.”

“Oh, Oberyn.” Wincing, you reached over and squeezed his knee. “I’m so sorry.” He lost someone else, almost right away. I can’t… 

“I was too. And from there …” He laughed, but the sound was sad. “From there, I admit that I treated offering my mark in the same way I lived as a man - in excess. Even Ellaria questioned me at times, but it was the way I coped. I could not have the revenge I wanted, and losing more people that I cared about was not an option. So for a few hundred years, I … marked my partners. I kept them close without thinking twice, but I never hesitated to step away from them when it became clear that Cersei and Tywin and the fucking Mountain were back, or when they demanded too much of me.” 

“Oberyn, I …” You didn’t know what else to say - especially since up until that conversation, you’d assumed he’d always been selective about who he offered protection to. But I was wrong. 

“Many of them asked to become like me, and I denied all of them - most of them without explanation.” He took another drink, pausing before he set the bottle down on the table. “Losing them of natural causes became almost routine for me. Eight. Ten. Twelve. It was not easy to say goodbye, but I was not heartbroken in the same way I was when the first was taken. Finally, Ellaria pulled me aside, and she let me know what she thought.” 

“What did she think?” Curling your legs beneath you, you leaned against Oberyn’s side. “It doesn’t seem like she would have said anything unless she felt strongly about it.”

“You are correct.” Glancing up, you saw that he was smiling - that expression a fonder one. “She told me that the mark was meant to be a symbol of honor, and an indication that the person who wore it was special. She said she’d never try to tell me how to live my second life, but that unless I used that ability with some discretion, it was … meaningless. That in our community, the mark had come to symbolize intent, and I was treating it like giving someone a worthless trinket. I hadn’t ever thought of it that way.” 

“Were you two together all that time? I know that Makers don’t always stay with their Children, but you and Ellaria are … different.” 

“No. She stayed with me for a long time, but once she was certain I would be alright on my own, we separated. We’d see each other … well, to us, it was frequently, but to you, it probably isn’t.” He started moving his hand up and down on your arm, Oberyn shifting so that you could move even closer. “She made a special trip to tell me what she thought about me using my mark, though. And afterward … I slowed down. I slowed down and I realized that there was no point in protecting people in that way. It  was only for my benefit. It didn’t offer them anything in the end.”

Unconsciously, you reached up, touching the space on your neck that bore his sigil. Something changed again. Ellaria and Tyene and Toban’s reactions were real. This isn’t just a mark, it’s… more. 

“It’s not possible for me to be emotionless; I’m sure you know that. But I … stopped letting myself get so attached. I stopped settling in places long term. I kept moving. I focused on my eventual revenge instead of on immediate pleasure, and instead of one or two people a century wearing my mark and knowing what I was, more and more time passed between each one. I kept my own secret, and didn’t linger long enough for people to start asking questions.” 

“You must have been lonely.” Swallowing hard, you closed your eyes. “Even with Ellaria and the Others that you came into contact with, it must have been so hard.” 

“It was. But it got easier each year. The difficult part came when the questions about me making a Child started coming, and I had to explain my reasoning for not turning anyone.” 

“That’s nobody’s business, though.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s like people questioning why someone like me isn’t trying to have a baby, or hinting that time is running out, or making the assumption that you can’t be happy unless you’re a parent. That’s a personal choice, Oberyn, and even though I’m kind of relieved to know it isn’t just humans who think that’s their business, it’s still awful of them to question you like that.” 

“The thing is, that my reason for not turning anyone is … hypothetical. Yes, most of us pass our strongest traits on when we change someone, but it isn’t set in stone that it happens.” He removed his arm from around you and then leaned forward, picking up the thermos  again and taking a long pull from it. You caught a whiff of copper, biting your lip at the scent, but before you could say anything, he continued. “Even Ellaria started to hint that there would be nothing wrong with me changing someone and potentially passing something along, but she never pushed. And after those conversations - after seeing her and Toban and meeting others like us and their first Children, I began to see the appeal… and I started using my mark again. Sparingly, but … just in case. Just to let everyone know that someone was off limits.” 

“But you never acted.” He flipped the straw down and let the bottle go, leaning back. “Even though you were close.” 

“I was.” He sighed. “Sort of.” Without warning, Oberyn pulled you onto his lap, strong arms holding you against his chest though you were still wrapped in the blanket. “I met Isabel while I waited for Ellaria to arrive for a visit, and there was … something about her. A connection between us that was immediate. I fell for her and offered her my protection. She accepted, and asked if … if it was possible that we could be together forever.” 

“You considered it.” You looked up at him, watching as Oberyn nodded slowly. “Because if Ellaria thought you were going to choose between Tyene and Isabel, you must have been much closer than before.” 

“I was.” He met your gaze then, the line between his brows deep as he frowned. “But I made the mistake of telling her that it was in fact a possibility, and she … assumed.” Oh, no. “And with that assumption, our relationship changed. I loved her. The idea of … forever with her was not unappealing, but …” 

“She thought a maybe was a definitely.” He nodded again and then winced when he looked away, like he was remembering actually living the experience. “Did she know about your past? About the Lannisters and your family?” 

“She did. And at first, she told me that she understood my need for vengeance, even though she hadn’t ever seen or heard of the Lannisters before me. But as more time passed, I think … it became clear to her just how focused on that goal I was. I spent as much time with her as I could, but I was also with Ellaria and Tyene, making plans. It had been a long time since Cersei and Tywin had shown their faces so we thought it was probably coming. And when I reminded Isabel that there was a chance that I would turn her and our time together would be short because I did what needed to be done and did not survive, she …” 

He lifted a hand a rubbed slowly at his jaw, still staring out at the city. You’d thought that Oberyn’s reasons for not turning the woman had been simple, but the previous few minutes had proven otherwise. And I think it’s going to get worse. 

“She did not take it well. She said that Ellaria encouraging my revenge quest for over a thousand years was not a good idea. She said that if I kept it up, I would only do more harm to myself and the people I cared about. She said that once I turned her, I would understand that there was more to my life than the need to remove the Lannisters from the world. And that was … the last thing I needed to hear. Especially since Ellaria had been the one encouraging me to make an offer to Isabel in the first place.” 

“I’ve said a lot of stupid things in my life, Oberyn, but none of them have been as stupid as telling you Ellaria was a bad influence on you.” He smiled at that but it was still sad, his hold on you tightening. “That wouldn’t have been a good start to Isabel’s new life.”

“No. And as much as I loved her, Ellaria’s presence was … is… always going to factor into my decisions. I will never compromise on that, no matter how many years I walk this Earth, or who I choose to have beside me.” And you shouldn’t have to. Ellaria isn’t just your Maker. She’s … everything to you. “Isabel didn’t take that well, and she definitely didn’t take me telling her that I’d chosen not to turn her because of her feelings about Ellaria well, either.” 

He stopped speaking, and you watched the emotions pass across his features, his face more expressive than you’d ever seen it before. He tightened his jaw and then loosened it before finally looking down at you with another frown on his face that sent a shallow ache through your chest. “Are you -”

“Give me a second. This is not easy for me.” He closed his eyes and then turned toward you, kissing you on the forehead and lingering there. “I left her and went back to Ellaria and Tyene full time. I refused to turn Tyene because that girl deserved better than to be someone’s second choice, and Ellaria was far more equipped to handle her transformation than I was.” He spoke without pulling back, his lips brushing over your skin with each word. “But curiosity got the better of me, and after a little while, I went back to check in on Isabel, and she …” 

You felt it before you saw it - the warmth of Oberyn’s tears falling against your skin. Without thinking twice, you slipped an arm around his back and the other under his shoulder, turning your head so that you could press your cheek to his chest. Whatever he’s going to say next is going to be awful. 

“She cut my mark from her skin.”

You closed your eyes as the ache in your heart deepened. Without realizing it, you tightened your hold on him, fingers digging into his skin. You were expecting it to be bad given the way he was struggling to get through this part of the story. But that’s horrible. I can’t even imagine… 

Your thoughts trailed off as he continued. “She said if I wouldn’t choose her, she didn’t want the safety my mark brought her. Since she could not see it, she… What she did to herself, it… her arm was … mutilated. The wound … it … it became infected, and the infection spread. She refused to let me do anything about it.” He paused again, and when he spoke, you heard the tremble in his voice. “She was too weak to get out of bed, but she was strong enough to tell me that all she’d done was make sure that I didn’t have to wait around for years to watch her die of old age since I wouldn’t give her a forever.” 

“Oh, Oberyn.” Your blood ran cold at his words, and you knew that he’d heard your sharp intake of breath. “That’s… how could someone do that to you?” You knew that he’d loved the woman, but you thought she’d been selfish - especially when it came to Ellaria. And if she knew what avenging his family meant, she just tried to manipulate him. And that’s even worse. 

“I don’t know. But she did die, and despite what she’d done, it … hurt to lose her. Before you, she was the last person I placed under my protection.” He sniffed, saying your name. “For four hundred years, there hasn’t been anyone else I have wanted to protect. Not even Cameron. Not even when I knew his life was in danger. Because the memory of Isabel - and what she believed that mark would eventually mean was so strong.” 

He used one hand to ease your head away from his chest, tilting it to the side so that he could stare at the skin of your throat, leaving you to wonder at his thoughts. Do you regret it? Do you wish you’d asked? Do you wish you’d waited?

“Our marks of protection are all slightly different, but they all require …” He smiled briefly, raising his thumb so that the ring caught some of the light. “The right components.” You’d wanted to ask about the process but didn’t know how - especially since you didn’t have a clue where to start, so you were glad that he brought it up on his own. “It can be made from any metal, but most of us that are … ancient choose gold. It is melted down by an elder, and then some of our blood is added to the molten liquid. Even a few drops are powerful, which is why when I bit you, I pressed the sigil to your skin. I healed the space around it with my tongue, but… the metal itself healed that area… and since the metal bears the spear of House Martell… it remains on your skin, a visible reminder of just how important you are to me.” 

“I wish it was visible for me, especially after seeing Ellaria, Tyene and Toban’s reactions to it.” The words slipped out - and at the realization of their implication, you sat straight up, eyes wide. Oh, no. I didn’t mean to… Especially after what we just talked about. Now he’s going to think - 

“I wish you could see it too. But for right now … you can feel it.” He reached for you again, fingers trailing over your skin and sending heat throughout your body. And when he positioned his hand the same way he had the night he’d marked you, you gasped at the surge of warmth, the corners of his mouth lifting briefly as he gauged your reaction. “I’d almost forgotten what it feels like.” He leaned closer, curling his fingers slightly. “This is a good reminder.” Of what? 

There were plenty of ways to interpret his words, but you chose to take them at face value - that he was simply happy to be around someone that understood the significance of what he’d given them - and didn’t try to take things a step further or ask for clarification. Even though I want to, and he has to know it by now. “I’m glad something good came out of this mess.” Letting the blanket drop, you pulled one hand free, raking your fingers through his hair. “Even something small.” 

“It is not small, believe me.” He let go of your throat, his hand dropping to your shoulder and squeezing. “But I still have not told you about Cameron, and that’s what I promised to do.” 

“We don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow. I can sleep in.” He smiled at that, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “But yes. Tell me about him, please. And maybe something about Toban, too. Because -” 

“Toban means well. He always has. And while I wouldn’t call it jealousy, because it’s clear he would do anything for her, the connection that Ellaria has with him has … started to bother me more as the years pass.” He rolled his eyes. “Our gifts are another thing that isn’t guaranteed, but depending on your lineage, they’re more or less likely. With Ellaria, they are very likely, since she’s one of the first.” 

You’d assumed that to be the case about her age, but with the confirmation, you realized just how special your circumstances  were - and how lucky Oberyn was. Because she barely saved him. And so anyone younger might not have. 

“Ellaria can see the past via touch. Toban’s ability is to read situations and circumstances like no one I have ever met before. Tyene … well, she is able to convince anyone to do just about anything, and doesn’t hesitate to tell you what she thinks about it.” 

You grinned at the admission, lifting a brow. “I’m not surprised by that, especially after the way she greeted me for the first time.” 

He smiled, too, the man nodding. “Her treatment of you is how I knew she accepted you, but I was surprised that she did it as quickly as she did.” 

“I like her, Oberyn. I’m glad that Ellaria turned her. She fits well with the two of you…. And Toban.” Dropping your hands to settle them in your lap, you cocked your head to the side. “What is your gift, though? You must have one, if the three of them do.”

“Nothing as exciting as seeing the past or knowing the future or the power of persuasion.” He sighed, the rise and fall of his chest a strange sight. “My… gift is also somewhat of a curse. The depth of my humanity is what I carry with me, no matter how much I’ve tried to ignore it sometimes. Despite my hesitation when it comes to getting attached, when it happens … I cannot help the way it makes me feel… and act, when the situation calls for it.” 

“How is that a curse?” 

“I haven’t been a human in 2,000 years. At that age, most of us have long since forgotten what it’s like to experience things the same way humans do. But I have never been able to disassociate from that part of myself entirely. I’ve tried to, but it has never worked for long.” He closed his eyes, pausing. “And that brings me to Cameron.” 

“I’m going to stay quiet, Oberyn, and just let you talk. Because if I interrupt, I’ll -” 

“Thank you. There aren’t many that know this full story, so…” He slipped a hand under the blanket and then under your top, his large palm pressed to your side. “That will help.” 

You didn’t know what to expect when it came to the man’s story, but once he started speaking, you were enraptured - and wouldn’t have wanted to interject without his encouragement. 

“Ellaria and I have done many things throughout the years to earn a living, finding ways to adapt to the times at hand and use current events to our advantage. Some of the stories about our kind are true, but there are others that aren’t. For example, some of us are quite persuasive, like Tyene, but we can’t just … bend people’s minds to our will without a second thought. Luckily, by the time I was turned, Ellaria had already amassed quite a fortune that she kept secret. Her name may have been Sand then, yet she was anything but poor. Those funds, along with what I was able to take away from my own family’s vaults throughout the years were more than we needed.” 

He hummed, glancing down at you and then back out at the skyline, and you used the opportunity to take in his profile, parts of his face silhouetted in shadow, though it only made him more appealing. 

“At the time I met Cameron, Ellaria and I were operating a network of Speakeasies on the East Coast. It was good money, easy money. And it was simple for us to attract visitors, because almost everyone was looking for a place to drink and socialize where they could be themselves in every way.” 

You didn’t need clarification on that. When it came to Oberyn, excess was the norm, and he’d never been one to hide his true nature, or his desires. Sex and alcohol and freedom? People must have loved them back then. He stroked over your skin with his fingertips, humming low in his throat before he continued. 

“Cameron was … special. He visited one of our locations in The Bowery, and caught my eye from across the room. I had two beautiful women in my lap and he still devoured me with his gaze as though they were not there at all. His confidence was… alluring. He wasn’t shy about what he wanted, and I liked that. We began a relationship, and I quickly realized that I cared for him, despite promising myself that I would keep things … loose. I did travel a lot, between locations, and Ellaria often filled in in my absence, so he got to know her, too.” 

Oberyn lowered his head and rested it against yours, collecting himself. “Many like us came to America then, to take advantage of the rapidly expanding cities and the nightlife. There was a group - the one Toban told you about? From Braavos? They were also attempting to operate in the same market as we were, and it got … contentious.” 

You weren’t surprised because Toban had given you a heads up, but that didn’t make the story any easier to hear. He’s been through so much. He’s had to adapt over and over and it’s still happening. 

“I wanted to be sure that Cameron was safe, and since he knew what I was, it was a little easier. We trained together. He stayed close to me when I traveled. I told him what to look for when it came to potential attempts on his life. The sell swords attacked one of our clubs one night, burning it to the ground because they thought we were there … and that is when Cameron and I disappeared for a while. We needed to lay low, and it was during that time that he asked me to protect him with my mark. But I was hesitant, and you know why.” 

“I do.” You mumbled the words, agreeing. “And I know how hard it probably still was for you to tell him no.” 

“Punishing Cameron for Isabel’s behavior was unfair of me, and I know it. I knew it then, but that changed nothing. He asked me - repeatedly, why I would not protect him if I claimed to love him. All I could say was that I had never before used the mark as a last resort, and I didn’t want to start with him. There were many Others from Braavos, but they were clumsy, and I thought … I thought my presence would be enough. But Cameron got tired of me telling him no, and so he turned to Toban, who was spending a lot of time with Ellaria then, and one thing led to another.” 

“Would … would the bond he felt with Toban because of the mark have changed if you’d turned him later? How does that work?” 

“I do not know.” He shook his head, the man’s frown deepening. “For many, offering the mark is the precursor to offering them a second life. It is … I don’t think I have ever come across someone that is protected by one and a Child of another. But in Cameron’s case, it wouldn’t have mattered. He grew to resent me in the months following Toban’s decision, and his final request of me was just a last effort to make me choose.” 

“Were he and Toban -” 

“No, they were never together. Not to my knowledge, anyway. Toban marked him because time was running out, and it was either that or watch me lose someone else I cared for before I was ready, because they would have eventually killed him. It was only a matter of time. He turned him because after the mark, the two of them became close, since Cameron wanted less and less to do with me. After your first, it … I’m told that it becomes less likely that the bond is so strong between a Maker and a Child, so to Toban, it was as simple as granting a request. Cameron told me what was happening, and then the two of them left and were out of touch for twenty years.” 

You found it hard to believe that Toban had been out of touch with Ellaria for so long, but stayed quiet, thoughts buzzing in your head. Oberyn’s differing use of his mark of protection through the years was staggering - from overusing it to not using it to choosing to use it sparingly to only offering it when the possibility of forever was on the table, but denying it to someone that was in immediate danger. And then there’s me. How do I factor into this? “You never considered turning Cameron?”

“Not once. I did love him. We were close. He knew me well, and we were happy together, but it wasn’t … I never felt the same as I did with Isabel, and that was a problem for me. He’s happy now, I’ve seen him once since he became one of us, but … the bond between us does not exist anymore. And as upset as I was with Toban at the time, his … interference was for the best. It kept Cameron alive, and it kept me from being forced to make a decision that I would have regretted later.” 

You couldn’t help it - stifling a yawn in the middle of his words, one hand rising to cover your mouth and hide it. Shit. “I’m sorry, Oberyn. It’s just that it’s late, and you’re comfortable, and -”

“It is. And I am.” He laughed quietly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “I am almost done, and then I will take you to bed.” Wait, what? “To sleep,” he clarified, lips finding your temple. “I just need to explain my feelings toward Toban, and then … then you will understand more.” 

“Before you do that, I have something to ask.” Leaning back, you looked up as he stared down at you, the man nodding twice. “Tyene offered to change me if you wouldn’t. Toban said that he was glad things wouldn’t be the same with me as they were with Cameron, and that he looked forward to getting to know me when this was over … why? They’ve known me for a few days, and they’re already acting like I’m going to be around for a long time, and that they want it to happen.” 

“They’re my family. They understand that everything going on right now is … fluid. But the fact that I acted so quickly and definitively with you, despite you being in no danger from any Others … it tells them everything they need to know about my feelings.” It was an answer, but only a partial one - though it would have to be enough. Because there are more important things to worry about. 

“What if there are Others working with the Lannisters that Tyrion doesn’t know about? What if that’s a surprise? What if -”

“That is nothing to worry about. It is a rule set by our Elders that we give the Lannisters nothing. They’ve been trying to figure out how our blood works for centuries, and have offered unbelievable sums of money for assistance. But despite the fact that not all of the Others have a vendetta against them like mine or Ellaria’s, no one is willing to help them, because it means they’d be completely cut off if they lived long enough… and survived my retaliation against them.” 

Toban’s words - no one would dare cross the Red Viper - echoed in your mind, and despite yourself, you shivered. If he has that much power over the entire community, then … then the fact that I’ve been accepted by him means even more than I thought it did. “I’m glad to hear it. And soon, helping the Lannisters won’t be something any of you have to worry about.” 

“No, it won’t be.” He hummed and then squinted, though you knew that his vision was perfect. “The sun will start to rise in about 40 minutes, so I’m going to make this quick.” Quietly encouraging him to continue, you squeezed his bicep. “I have denied myself very little in my first life… or in this life. But I am consciously denying myself the connection that we have with our first. Over and over, I have had the opportunity to choose someone to fill that role, and I have walked away every time. Toban was Ellaria’s first, and the bond they have … as much as I want to experience that, it hasn’t ever felt right.  She turned him with nothing but love for him in her heart, and I … I’ve already told you what I feel. The hate. The rage. The sadness. They are not all I feel, but they are always there, like a shadow. Making someone an offer of eternal life shouldn’t come with the burden of those things.” 

No, it shouldn’t. “Only you can decide what the right time is, or who the right person is, Oberyn. And you told me the other night that once this is over? You might be able to make that offer to someone. I want that for you. And whoever it is is going to be the luckiest person in the world, because you -” 

“No.” Using one hand, he turned your face toward his, the corners of his mouth lifting in a tiny smile. “I will be the luckiest man on this planet if they say yes.” Oberyn kissed you softly, his lips parted so that your lower one fit between them. 

He didn’t say you, don’t get your hopes up. But it was impossible not to - all of Oberyn’s words and explanations aligned with his actions and your presence in his life, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that he was referring to you when he mentioned an after for someone. 

“I do not hate Toban. I could never truly despise someone that holds such a large portion of Ellaria’s heart. But he has something I haven’t been able to seriously consider for myself, and seeing him … and them together is a reminder of that.” 

You kissed him when he was done speaking, puckered lips trailing over his and then to his cheek, pausing over the space where his dimple appeared each time he smiled and then moving back to his mouth. You lingered there, wanting to deepen it, but Oberyn decided for you, shaking his head and leaning back. “We need to go inside. If I get carried away with you out here, the sun will not be pleasant.” 

“Of course.” Pushing yourself to your feet, you kept the blanket wrapped around you, staring down at where he still sat. “Plus, unless I missed something in the last few hours, you and Ellaria haven’t had enough time to take care of what you need to, so… getting carried away isn’t an option.” 

“We have not.” He stood, too, reaching out to put an arm around your shoulders. “But there are other things that you and I could do that would make me lose track of time.”

“Yeah?” Feeling bold, you slid your arm around his back, hand landing on his hip and your fingertips slipping beneath the waistband of the pants he wore. “Are any of those possible in that bedroom with the drapes shut?” 

“If you’re not too tired, we can find out.” 

You were exhausted, but his words sent a jolt of adrenaline through you, your eyes moving to the partially open door. I’ll never be too tired to find out with you, Oberyn. What you’d discussed had likely taken a lot out of him, but you never would have known based on the way he led you back into the bedroom and then fluidly worked to secure the door and drapes - ensuring that not even a sliver of sunlight would leak through when it rose. 

You went into the bathroom while he did that, taking a few moments when you’d finished to stare at yourself in the mirror. You could feel the mark he’d given you - a dull thrum against the side of your throat, and even though you knew it wouldn’t do any good, you leaned in and squinted at your reflection. I know what it’s supposed to look like, but I really wish I could see it just once. 

And you didn’t even mean as a result of being turned - though if that were the case, you’d be able to see it any time you looked into the mirror. I just mean … Swirling your fingertips slowly over your skin, you sighed. I want to see what he sees.

A knock at the door startled you. When it pushed open a few seconds later, Oberyn peaking around the edge, you straightened up and smiled. “You can come in. I guess.” 

He stepped inside, leaving the door open behind him. Oh, he took his shirt off. “The room is ready. We will be able to rest for as long as we need to.” 

“What do you do while I… while the person you’re in bed with is sleeping?” You watched his expression in the mirror, both of Oberyn’s eyebrows shooting upward. “You don’t really sleep, so -”

“I do need rest. When it’s a human I’m with, my body just sort of goes into a … meditative state. I’m still alert and aware in case of danger, but if someone were to see me, they’d think I was asleep.” He stepped behind you, extending his arms so that he could grip the edges of the counter on either side of your body. “You have seen me actually sleep, though. After the Mountain? My body was doing everything possible to heal, and that meant being truly unconscious.” 

Oberyn pressed his chest to your back, never breaking eye contact with your reflection. “So it’s like a recharge. Even though you technically don’t need it, you still… keep up appearances.” 

“I do.” He nodded, turning his head to press his lips to the angle of your jaw. “When I have a reason to.” I’m the reason right now? “I also must admit to something.” He kissed you again, mouth moving closer to your ear. “In the last few days, I have spent more than a few hours just watching you sleep.” 

“Creep.” But you felt your entire body growing warm at his words, a sharp inhale of breath your only response when he let go of the counter and wound his arms around you to pull you even closer. “Oberyn.” 

“I have been trying to figure out what it is about you that has drawn me in so quickly.” He hummed, the man pushing your shirt up and gliding his fingers over your skin. “Why I was so … moved to do whatever it took to protect you, even when I was … impaired and hadn’t had the urge to give that gift to anyone in hundreds of years.” 

“Does the why matter?” Sighing as he stroked the skin beneath your belly button, you tipped your head back, resting it against his shoulder. “It doesn’t to me, because whatever the reason, it means … you’re in my life now, and I’m in yours. Whatever that means going forward is something that we’ll have to figure out, but …” Closing your eyes you took a deep breath, pressing your lips together. “Do you regret what you did? Do you wish you hadn’t been -”

“No.” It was almost a growl, Oberyn’s palm flattening against your belly, the other one moving up your body and sliding beneath the neckline of your shirt so that he could settle it over your heart. “I regret the timing, yes, and not being able to explain what I wanted to do beforehand… but when it comes to choosing you?” He nuzzled against the side of your face, his upper lip curling. “There is no regret.” 

It made you feel better. 

When you turned your head toward him, he was waiting, the man’s lips already parted so that he could pull yours between them, the scrape of his teeth making you groan. Reaching up, you used one hand to grip his hair, fingers twisting in the silver-streaked locks. He pressed harder on your chest, and once again, you knew he was monitoring your heartbeat. But this time, it’s not because he’s afraid it’s too slow. 

He kissed you harder, his mouth moving with yours - and the hand on your abdomen moved lower, the tips of his fingers skimming the waistband of your sweats. You whimpered then, Oberyn  swallowing the sound - but it only seemed to encourage him. Wait, though. Wait because … 

Pulling away from him with a gasp, you let out a shuddering breath, and were unsurprised to see mischief in his eyes, one of his brows raised. “Can, um…” Fighting to catch your breath, you chewed on your lower lip and wrinkled your nose. This is stupid. “Can they hear us? I know this is a big apartment, but …”

To his credit, Oberyn didn’t outright laugh at you. Instead he just murmured your name and leaned in to kiss you, his fingers curling slightly. “Our hearing is very good, yes. But with age and experience, we are able to … tune things out. It becomes like background noise for us unless we’re actively listening. I cannot say that they won’t all know that something is going on in here because of your heartbeat or any noises we make, but I can assure you that Ellaria and Toban are quite occupied themselves, and Tyene is more like a teenager than you know.” 

“Doesn’t want to hear either of her parents having sex? Got it.” You grinned at that, feeling marginally more at ease. “I just didn’t want to be rude, Oberyn. I know you’ll tell me that I’m worrying for nothing, but …” 

“I certainly haven’t been listening to them, I can promise you that.” The look in his eyes changed briefly, but then he was focused on you again, the intensity back. “If it makes you uncomfortable, I understand.” You considered his words for a few seconds, breaking eye contact and then closing both of yours. 

Everything you knew about Oberyn Martell - from Westerosi history books and actually meeting him in person - told you that while he had very few limitations when it came to his behavior, he was considerate of others when the situation called for it. 

He wouldn’t force you to do anything, and his honesty about the fact that three supernatural beings also in the apartment could probably hear everything happening was proof that you had a choice about whether or not to move forward. But they all already know how he is. They know how he feels, and how I feel, and …  

“I want this, Oberyn.” His hold on you tightened, and when you lifted your head again to lock eyes with him in the mirror, you nodded twice. “But, the first time we’re actually together? I’d prefer if it was just the two of us, you know?”

“Of course.” The hand at your chest dropped a few inches, Oberyn’s wrist caught on the neckline of your shirt as he palmed one breast. “No one to listen. No one to interrupt. No one to …” He pressed his lips to your cheek and then moved them down, kissing the space just beneath your ear and then against the column of your throat. “No one to make either of us leave that bed before we’re ready.” 

You moaned at that - the sound loud, and when he latched his lips against your skin and sucked, you did it again, not caring at all who was listening. He wasn’t biting you, but part of you wished that he would - and you didn’t know what exactly that said about you. “I can’t wait.” The thought of you and Oberyn - uninterrupted and in a bed together, the man finally able to give you what you both desperately wanted - was enough to make your knees shake. 

But he kept you upright, releasing your skin and then smiling against it as he continued to kiss his way forward. “On that night,” he whispered, lips moving over the part of your collarbone that was exposed, “on that night, I am going to kiss every single part of you that I marred when I was not well.” 

“Oberyn, you don’t have to -”

“It is not for you.” He shook his head, the hand at your waist sliding marginally lower while the one on your chest moved in a slow circle, one fingertip circling your nipple. “It is for me. And it is the only way I can begin to forgive myself.” You knew that telling him that you’d already forgiven him was unnecessary - he’d made the decision to make up for what he’d done, and you couldn’t sway him. “But for now…” He took a step forward, the small movement aligning your thighs with the edge of the counter. “This is for you.” 

He removed his hand from beneath your shirt and then used both of his to pull it upward, the man silent as he moved. Raising your arms to allow him to fully remove it, you let out a shuddering breath at the sight of your bare torso in the mirror, watching as he wrapped his arms around you again. He’s just watching me. Watching … us. 

The heat of his body was soft against your skin, the man’s palms warmer where they pressed to it - but you were focused on the intensity of his gaze, his eyes following the movement of his fingers as he touched you. “Oberyn, what are …” You gasped when his right hand slid down your stomach, fingers gliding beneath your waistband again - but instead of continuing down, he held it there, humming appreciatively. “You seem pleased with yourself, Prince Oberyn.” 

That got a laugh out of him, the smile spreading across his face as he palmed your chest with his other hand. But when Oberyn said your name next, there was no trace of laughter in his voice. Instead, it was low and full of want, his eyes blazing in the mirror’s reflection. “You’ll be pleased in a few minutes, too. That is a promise.” 

 You managed little more than a quiet sigh in response, but you nodded, never taking your eyes off of him. He was pressed against you from behind, the man’s body firm, and when he used one foot to nudge yours apart, you moved. Not much - just enough to widen your stance for him. Please touch me, Oberyn. Please, just … 

Reaching up with one hand, you dragged your fingers through the hair laying against the nape of his neck as you finally turned your head toward him, your upper body twisting slightly. It was enough to allow you to kiss him, your mouth pressed to his as your fingers curled. 

Despite his age and his circumstances - and the fact that your friends had the element of surprise, you knew that nothing was promised beyond the moments you were living in. Especially for me, you thought as you continued to kiss him, lips parting in a signal to him that you wanted more. Because out of everyone, I’m the only one without a contingency plan or immortal blood. 

He must have noticed a change in your heartbeat, because Oberyn pulled away moments later, his frown deep. “What is wrong? Do you want me to stop?” 

“No. I don’t.” Closing your eyes, you bit down on your lower lip. “I’m just … so much could go wrong, Oberyn. And I’m scared that I’ll lose you before …” You pulled your hand from his head, using it to cover your mouth. Just say it. “I’m scared that I’ll lose you before I can really get to know you. Or that something will happen to me, and then…” And then you’ll lose someone else you care about earlier than planned. 

“You will not lose me.” He leaned in, running his nose along your temple. “Not during this conflict, and definitely not tonight.” He kissed you then, lips landing on the corner of one eye. “And nothing is going to happen to you… nothing that you don’t like, anyway.” You felt his smile, the man pausing before he spoke again - that time, directly into your ear. “Let me take care of you, issa ōños.” 

You knew it was Valyrian, but you didn’t know what he’d said - and didn’t want to stop him and ask, especially when his hand moved even lower, the edges of his nails dragging against your sensitive skin and making your hips jerk backward into his. He was hard and made no effort to conceal that from you, Oberyn bending one knee and sliding that foot between both of your legs so that you could feel the length of him against the back of your hip. 

It also stabilized you, your lips curving into a tiny smile at the realization. But that was cut off when he kissed you again, Oberyn’s lips crushing yours with what you could only describe as a slight desperation. You have nothing to prove to me, Oberyn. Nothing at all. 

The hand on your chest moved upward, palm pausing over your heart for long moments as the kiss continued, desperation turning into something like need as he felt the steady - though elevated - beat of it. He nodded once without breaking the kiss, and when you circled your hips slowly, leaning the weight of your upper body into his, Oberyn was ready. 

He licked into your mouth, the drag of his tongue long and slow. It took you a few seconds to realize that he’d dropped his hand again, slipping his fingers between your legs and curving them - the breadth of them pressed against the apex of your thighs. His touch was welcome, and when he stroked you with one long finger, you moaned into his mouth, your hand rising again to let your fingers tangle in his hair. 

He continued with only one finger, though he sped up after a minute or so, the man not doing anything but touching you until he broke the kiss to let you breathe. You gasped a breath into your lungs, eyes squeezed shut, and when Oberyn’s hand moved upward from your chest and to your throat, you let it out shakily at what you knew was coming. 

He made contact with the mark on your neck at the same time one finger slipped into you, Oberyn humming as you breathed out his name, the sound so quiet that only someone with his hearing would have known. Your muscles clenched around his finger, your body accommodating him immediately - though you wanted more, and knew that he’d want you to say so. 

You opened your mouth to tell him, turning your head just enough so that you could steal a quick kiss, but when your lips met, you felt the sharp sting of his teeth - the man nicking your lip and then snapping his head back before you could even react. His fangs are out. Is that new or has it been that way every time we’ve been close like this? “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to -”

“Don’t apologize for what you are, Oberyn.” You dragged your tongue slowly over the area he’d bitten, your tongue coming away coated in the tang of copper. You met his eyes again - directly that time, and not in the mirror - and shook your head without looking away. “I can handle it, and I want to.” It was the truth - you needed him to know that no part of him or who he was or what he wanted frightened you or made  you uncomfortable in any way, and that you trusted him to toe the line of safety with you in every situation. “Can…” Swallowing, you nodded. “Can I see?” 

He hesitated but it was brief. Oberyn’s hand dropped from your neck back to your upper chest, the motion of his other hand paused, too. “Yes. You can.” He opened his mouth again, tipping his head back and baring his teeth - and you watched as his fangs descended, the sharp points coming into view with no change in his expression. Oberyn stayed still, the man’s eyes on your face as you stared at what he was showing you. 

They were beautiful - much like the rest of him was - and without thinking about it, you raised your hand slowly, fingertips caressing his cheek as your thumb hovered just in front of his open mouth. “Does it hurt?” You spoke quietly, wondering what he felt in the rhythm of your heartbeat. “When they come down?”

“No.” He prodded at one with the tip of his tongue, your eyes following the movement. “It never has.” You wanted to touch one of them - to press the pad of your thumb against the point, testing the sharpness, but had no idea if that would be crossing the line of acceptability. “People used to fear them, even after I told them what I was. I became … adept at keeping them hidden. At not letting my natural reaction to … others allow them to be visible.” 

“So they come out when you’re turned on?” Arching a brow, you grinned at him again. “Good to know.” The edge of your nail caught on his lower lip, and then Oberyn snapped his teeth at you, playfully nipping at it before turning his head to kiss the inside of your wrist with a lingering press of his lips. “Oberyn.” You got his attention with a single word, his gaze rising to lock with yours again. “You have my permission to … bite me if that’s what you want.” 

It sounded stupid coming from you - the words leaving your lips and echoing in the small space. But he probably needs to hear it, because he was so afraid I’d be mad or off-put and … I’m not. “Is it what you want?” 

He pulled you closer to his body, Oberyn’s fingers curling against your core, and you nodded in return. “Yes. I want you, and that urge is a part of who you are, so… it is.” His eyes flashed at your admission, the man’s pupils widening - and then he was kissing you again, none of the previous restraint present. 

Instead, he took the lead, his mouth pressed to yours with some force as the hand between your legs began to move again. But that time, Oberyn went with two fingers, much as he had done in the safehouse. It felt better - your body’s immediate reaction to cant your hips forward over and over into his touch, chasing the pressure of the heel of his hand on each backstroke. 

He bit your lip again before he moved his mouth to your jaw, the points of his teeth scraping over it and then dragging along your cheek, the man’s plush lips trailing a second path over your heated skin. 

Closing your eyes and breathing hard, you angled your head away and gave him a better route to your neck, knowing full well that he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the mark - but still wanting his mouth on it, wanting to feel the heat of his lips as the effect of the claim he’d made on you coursed through your body. Not a claim, you reminded yourself as he bit on your earlobe before releasing it. A promise. A reminder that he wants to keep me safe. 

And Oberyn did press his lips to your mark moments later, along with a twist of his wrist that left his fingers buried in you but also allowed him to circle his thumb over the spot just above them, your hips jerking back once more. His kiss burned, the connection between you electric in its intensity, and you forced your eyes open, watching what was going on in the mirror. 

It was a sight you’d never forget - one of his hands pressed so tightly to your chest that your flesh dimpled beneath it, the other hidden beneath the sweats you still wore, the motion of the fabric over the movement of his fingers and the flex of the muscles in his wrist and forearm something that you could have watched for hours. 

But it was his head that you focused on, the crown of dark curls streaked with silver repositioned after only a few seconds and giving you a view of his brow and nose as he moved away from your throat and back to the place where your neck met your shoulder. 

You didn’t even notice your own bare skin - chest on full display in the warm light of the vanity fixture - because you were so focused on him and what he was doing. But nothing could have prepared you for Oberyn raising his eyes and turning his head so that he could rest his chin on your shoulder. 

He curled his fingers inside of you at the same moment he smirked, and then he opened his mouth, letting you watch as his fangs descended once more. He’s going to … Oh, he’s… 

You knew it was coming and yet you were still unprepared for the way it felt the moment he sunk his teeth into your skin, the man’s low moan at the taste of you sending a shiver of pleasure throughout your entire body. Your first instinct was to close your eyes but you forced yourself to keep them open, watching as your mouth dropped open, lips forming his name though you didn’t speak it out loud. 

He didn’t actually drink from you the same way he had the first night. Instead, Oberyn sipped slowly, timing the swallows with the strokes of his fingers, your body following his lead. You lifted one hand and laid it over the one he had on your chest, using the other one to grip the edge of the counter even though it was unnecessary. 

You wanted to watch - wanted to see the exact moment you fell apart from his touch and his mouth, but instead of doing that, you closed your eyes and let yourself relax into him, the man supporting your weight, even as your hips continued to move in tandem with his hand. 

There was pressure building in your lower belly - the result of his touch and his bite, and if you could sense it, you knew that he likely could, too. But I haven’t touched him. I haven’t … he hasn’t… You groaned, forcing your eyes open and saying his name, the man looking up without pulling his mouth away from your skin. His eyes were dark - the pupils so wide that you couldn’t tell where they ended, and there was a tiny trickle of blood at one corner of his mouth that made you gasp when you saw it. That’s my … oh, shit. 

But it didn’t deter you, and when you spoke moments later, your voice was low, though you heard the certainty in your tone. “Touch yourself, Oberyn. I know you want to.” 

His eyes rolled back and then he shut them, pulling the hand on your chest out from beneath yours as he sucked on your shoulder, and then you felt that hand slide down your body before it joined the other one between your legs. What the fuck is he… 

Before you could even finish your thought, Oberyn deftly replaced his first hand with the second, never missing a beat in the rhythm of his touch. Oh, he’s … oh, shit. Humming, you watched as he removed the first hand - his fingers glistening with your slick - and drew it back between your bodies, pushing the pants he wore down so that he could do what you’d told him to.  

He grunted against your skin and then you felt him move - stroking himself slowly, the man’s knuckles brushing against your back and hip. He sped up the motion of his other hand, and you glanced down, catching a glimpse of what was going on behind you - his large hand wrapped around his length, lower body pulled away from yours enough to give him the space he needed to glide easily. 

You had no idea what a vampire’s release would be like - or if it would be anything at all - but before you could dwell on the thought, Oberyn’s thumb found a sweet spot again, the man pressing down against your skin before circling slowly, another prolonged suck on your shoulder making you gasp. 

It was almost too much - definitely more than you’d experienced with him the first time he’d touched you, but at the same time, it was nowhere close to being enough. Will it ever be? You wondered as you forced your eyes to stay open, gaze focused on the flex of the tendons in his wrist and the way the length of him looked - tip flushed, the rest of him and his hand coated in you. 

Without warning, Oberyn released your shoulder and lifted his head, and you let out a moan at what he left behind - a double set of puncture wounds on your skin, thin trails of blood oozing from them and more of the same coating his lower lip. He looked almost drunk, his eyelids heavy, and for a few seconds, you thought he was going to stay like that… but you were wrong. 

“Give me your hand.” Voice low, he made the demand, Oberyn’s tongue cleaning the blood from his mouth. “Over mine.” Ducking his head, you felt as he kissed the place he bit once more, followed by the drag of his tongue, which felt almost as good as the bite itself. But you moved your hand at the same time, making a guess that he wasn’t asking for help touching you and reaching back so that you could wrap your fingers over his mid-stroke. 

He grunted at your touch, and before you could question him further, it was your hand resting against his skin, Oberyn’s larger one securely atop yours and guiding you. He was warm against your palm, the heft of him large but not uncomfortable, and as you took over, Oberyn’s focus shifted back to the hand he had between your legs, the speed of those thrusts increasing, as did the pace of his thumb. 

It felt amazing  - better than anything that had ever been done to your body before, and Oberyn knew it, the man’s smile turning lazy as he focused on the mirror. “Normally I would prolong this,” he murmured, mouth moving along your skin. “To see how long you could remain right on the edge.” No, please. Not tonight. I just want … “But that is not what either of us needs tonight.” He sighed, mouthing at the base of your throat and then parting his lips to bite again - that time without his fangs. “Tonight you just need me.” 

It was the truth - and it didn’t matter how or why he knew it, and so you nodded, swallowing and tipping your head back as you paused your hand long enough to swirl your thumb over his head, the man twitching at the touch. Squeezing once in agreement, you then resumed your movement - and Oberyn changed his, holding his fingers still inside you while the third kept moving - the pace increasing. 

“Oberyn!” You cried out, your voice much louder than you’d anticipated, but it only encouraged him, the muscles in your abdomen tightening as your toes curled, Oberyn’s hand squeezing yours once more before releasing it. He moved that hand up to your chest again, the weight of his touch grounding you and holding you tight against his body. Even though your eyes snapped closed, you knew why he was touching you there - knew what he was searching for. And I hope he likes it, you thought even as your lips fell open in a series of pants, breath shaky. My fucking heart is racing, and … 

“There it is,” he whispered, followed by a quiet hum of approval. “There you go.” 

You fell apart moments later, your body nearly convulsing at his touch - your free hand slapping against the countertop as the one you had on him stuttered in its motion, grip tightening. Your muscles clenched around his fingers, and Oberyn kept them still, the man swearing in another language - one that you didn’t recognize before turning to kiss the underside of your jaw, the press of his lips against the pulse in your neck welcome. 

He eased you through it, his touch lengthening your orgasm, but once the haze of pleasure had begun to subside, you took a deep, shaky breath and used the hand on the counter to touch his wrist, stopping the motion. Stop. Stop, Oberyn. “Let me turn around, Oberyn.” 

He slipped his fingers from inside of you, but didn’t pull his hand free from beneath your sweats. You let him go long enough to turn and face him, knees wobbly and your chest heaving, but when you met his eyes, you saw understanding in them. “Are you -”

“Be quiet.” Wetting your lips, you shook your head. “Be quiet and let me take care of you now.” His eyes flashed but he didn’t speak, and when you touched him again, your grip was certain - your confidence growing with each passing second. 

He crowded you against the counter again, and without thinking, you maneuvered yourself so that you were sitting on the edge of it, legs spread so that Oberyn could step between them. It gave you better access, and when you reached up with your free hand, gripping the hair at the back of his neck and urging him to kiss you, Oberyn didn’t hesitate. 

It was a deep kiss, Oberyn’s  tongue seeking entrance to your mouth immediately, and as he kissed you, his hips began to rock forward, the tiny thrusts forcing more of him through your grip. He held you with both hands - one of them pressed to the center of your back, the other one gripping the back of your neck and holding you in place, but despite the power behind it, his grip was gentle. 

You felt his fangs again when he bit on your lower lip but he didn’t pierce the skin, and when you gasped, the sound turning into a moan moments later, Oberyn groaned too, his hips moving faster. He broke the kiss, humming out your name. “I am close. I… where do y-”

“Anywhere.” Pressing a kiss to his lips, you shook your head. “Anywhere, Oberyn.” He grunted at your words but didn’t speak again, and when Oberyn kissed you hard, mouth sealed over yours, you knew that close meant imminent. 

Your heart racing again, you swirled your thumb over his tip and squeezed, the speed of your hand increasing as Oberyn’s lips parted, though he didn’t pull back from you. Forcing your eyes open, you tilted your head down to stare between your bodies, twisting your wrist so that when he came, it would hit your belly - and that change was all he needed, the man pulsing in your hand as he followed you over the edge. 

It coated your skin, pearly streaks hitting your stomach, the volume increasing with each stroke of your hand until he was nearly shuddering in your grip, Oberyn’s muscles twitching though he didn’t seem to have any trouble staying on his feet. “Fuck.” He swore, the sound beautiful to your ears. “You just … you are …” 

“Hold that thought, Prince Oberyn.” With one more stroke - and a final squeeze - you released him, fingertips trailing up his stomach until you could press your hand over his heart. It was strange to feel nothing beneath your palm, but it wasn’t difficult to imagine what it would have felt like - his chest rising and falling rapidly while he struggled to catch his breath, his lips parted as he sucked air between them. But it doesn’t matter, because he’s alive in all the ways that count. Your hand moved higher, fingers curling around the side of his throat and your thumb sliding over his jawline. “Ok, now you can finish.” 

“I just did.” He raised an eyebrow. “All over your -” You laughed, eyes closing and your chin dropping, but when Oberyn said your name, you looked back up at him. “I know you heard me earlier, heard what I called you?” Oh, he’s … Nodding, you took a deep breath and held it. “Issa ōños, it means … it means my light. And that is what you are to me, because you’ve shown me something I haven’t seen in a very long time.” 

Your heart was racing, his explanation of the words much more intimate than you’d ever expected them to be. “I have?” He nodded, both of his hands slipping down toward your waist. 

“The way forward. Hope. What it means to … care for someone again. I am beginning to see an end to the darkness I have lived with for so long.” You didn’t know what to say, and any of the things that crossed your mind seemed like too little - so you just leaned forward and kissed him gently, stroking the back of his head. When the kiss ended, neither of you said anything - but you didn’t separate, either, locked in place and holding each other, his forehead pressed to yours. We can’t stay here, though. 

“We should get cleaned up, Oberyn. I need to lay down.” Sighing, you straightened up and looked into his eyes. “And I need to … figure out how to respond to what you just said, because -”

“No. You don’t. Not yet.” He smiled, the expression understanding. “I just wanted you to know.” The man backed off, though he was reluctant to let you go. “It is important that you know.”  

He stepped away, giving you the room you needed to climb off of the counter and begin to clean up, doing the same thing beside you before pulling his pants back on. Everything he says is important. But that seems … very important. And I just … I don’t know what to think. 

Luckily for you, there was plenty of time, since you had days before the engagement party and wedding, and you weren’t involved in every aspect of the attack plan. But it can wait until I wake up. You yawned, swaying on your feet as you dried your face off with a fluffy towel, but then you felt Oberyn’s arms around you again, his mouth right next to your ear. “It’s time for bed. You can barely stand.” 

You didn’t argue, and only a few seconds later, you were horizontal on the comfortable mattress, the thick blanket covering you while Oberyn pressed against you from behind.

You were drowsy, and knew that it wouldn’t take long to fall asleep, but you forced yourself to speak one final time, clearing your throat without opening your eyes. “I know you won’t sleep, but I hope you get some rest.” He chuckled, his mouth pressed to the back of your shoulder. “I’ll see you when I wake up. I lo-” 

You stopped yourself just in time, breath catching in your throat. Oh, no. Oh, I just almost… His arm tightened around you, Oberyn pulling you as close as he could. “I will be here.” I almost just fucked everything up. I almost ruined everything. 

You were exhausted, but the racing of your heart at the near admission kept you awake for a long time. And if Oberyn noticed - which you knew that he did - he didn’t comment on it, his body still behind yours.  

“You’re serious?” You looked back and forth between them, eyes wide. “Tyene? Toban? You’re telling me that -”

“Yes. We’ve all been cooped up in here for a week, and you haven’t been anywhere for almost two aside from coming here.” The girl grinned, holding out a hand. “We’re going out tonight.” 

“But shouldn’t we -” You bit your lip, shaking your head. “Shouldn’t you two be worried about preparing for the wedding instead of worrying about babysitting a human? The engagement party is tomorrow, and…” Trailing off, you looked at Toban’s face, watching as he studied you. “That’s why we’re leaving.” 

Closing your eyes, you nodded. It’s because the party is tomorrow. “After tomorrow, we lose the element of surprise.” Tyene stepped forward, glancing at Toban. “Or at least Oberyn and Ellaria do. So between then and the wedding, things will be … harder for us. Unless we go tonight, we won’t be able to until it’s all over because they might be looking.” 

“And at that point, none of us will be hiding anymore.” Toban cleared his throat, saying your name. “So tonight, the three of us are going to leave the apartment, you are going to check in with someone that you know as proof of life, and Tyene and I are going to fuel up for what is coming.” 

That was code for find someone to drink from, though he was tactful about admitting it. “That’s not the only reason we’re leaving.” You smiled at her, nodding, even though you felt a pang in your chest. “But alright. Let me get changed. I don’t think I want my first time out and around people in such a long time to be in sweatpants.” She grinned, turning and leaving the room, though Toban remained, the man eyeing you curiously. “What? What did -”

“He expects you to be upset.” Frowning, Toban shook his head. “But you aren’t… at least in the way it would make sense for you to be.” 

“Oberyn told me about your gift.” You stood, taking a deep breath. “And you’re right, I do feel … something right now, but … two thousand years of history between them? I’ve known him for fifteen seconds in comparison. And if this is what needs to happen so that he can focus on what’s coming, there’s no way I can be mad about it.” You chewed on your lip and then shook your head. “This isn’t a shock to me, Toban. I knew it was going to happen.If anything, I’m surprised it took this long.” 

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead closed his eyes, nodding. He doesn’t know what to say. “How long do you need to get ready?” Toban cleared his throat. “An hour?”

“No, not even close.” Glancing around the room, you shrugged. “Twenty minutes? A half hour?” He agreed and then followed Tyene out of the room, leaving you alone. There were plenty of clothes for you to choose from, and after checking the weather on one of the TV channels, you opted for a pair of jeans and a light colored tee, pulling a cardigan over it. 

From there, you moved to the vanity, sliding onto the bench seat and reaching for the small bag of toiletries that included makeup, trying to decide whether or not you wanted to put in the effort. Not like I’m trying to impress anyone. 

“I have warned them that if anything happens to you, they will answer to me.” 

Turning your head toward the voice, you rolled your eyes when you saw Oberyn leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed. “You wouldn’t have agreed to let me leave this apartment if you thought something might happen.” He pushed off of the wall and moved toward where you sat, the man settling both hands on your shoulders. “It’ll be good to get outside, Oberyn, to be around other people again.” 

“Are we not enough?” You thought about lying and then opted not to, setting the compact you held back down as you turned your head again to look up at him. 

“It’s not that you aren’t enough. I just … I went from interacting with dozens of people every day and using all kinds of technology whenever I wanted to the confines of an apartment, no phone, and the same four faces for the last two weeks.” Aside from Clegane and Tyrion, that is. “It was a big change.” 

“You’ll be back in that world full time soon enough.” He cleared his throat. “I’m … sorry that this is what your life has become. You should not have to hide here, with us. This is not your fight.” 

“It is, though.” Eyeing yourself in the mirror, you shrugged. “It became my fight the second you kissed me at that party, Oberyn. And I’ll do whatever I can to help you win it.” Even if that means going out to a bar so that you can fuck the lingering effects of Ellaria’s blood from your system. “Besides, spending time with Toban and Tyene will be … interesting. I’m sure they’ll have a ton of stories to tell me, and with you and Ellaria out of earshot, they won’t have to worry about censoring themselves.” 

He laughed at that but didn’t speak, his eyes on you as you applied mascara. You could see his reflection in the mirror, the man’s brow furrowed, and you wondered what it would actually take for him to speak up. I’ve never seen him like this. He twisted the ring on his thumb with two fingers, still silent when you picked up another brush - but Oberyn finally broke the silence a few seconds later, his tone full of confusion. 

“You are calm. Your heartbeat is … steady.” He frowned, glancing up at the ceiling. “Yet you know what is going to happen when -”

“Oberyn.” Capping your eyeliner, you spun on the bench to face him, hands in your lap. “Yes. I know that when the three of us are gone, you and Ellaria are going to fuck.” You knew it was more than that, but being blunt was the route you chose. “You need to be clearheaded for tomorrow, and even though having the extra stamina from her blood would probably be helpful if something happens, the focus is more important.” 

“Among other things.” He mumbled the words and then held a hand out, waiting for you to take it. “I wish it did not have to be this way.” 

“Why?” He pulled you to your feet, his free hand going to your waist. “You love her, Oberyn. You haven’t seen her in a while, and this is probably the longest the two of you have ever gone in each other’s presence without jumping into bed.” Settling your hand on his chest, you said his name again. “I will never be jealous of what the two of you have. She saved your life twice that I know about, and probably countless more times between, too.” He smiled at that - just a twitch of his lips but it was there, and so you continued. “Plus, if that night in the bathroom was any indication, my pelvis and ribs wouldn’t stand a chance with you until you get that out of your system.” Arching a brow, you stared at him for a few seconds, giving your words time to land. 

You hadn’t discussed what had happened between you - or what you’d almost said - after waking up, and the following few days had been filled with planning sessions, meaning that Oberyn’s attention was divided. You’d thought about it, of course, and figured that he had, too … but you knew that he had far more important things to worry about.

But those things didn’t keep him from you in the time before you went to bed each day, Oberyn taking breaks to lay with you until you’d fallen asleep, his hand stroking over the parts of your body that he could reach and the two of you trading deep, slow kisses until your eyes closed and he had the opportunity to extricate himself, heading back into the other room with Ellaria, Toban and Tyene. 

You only knew this was the case because you’d woken up to an empty bed one night, the fear that he was gone filling you for long moments and only abating when you heard his voice from the other room, Toban’s joining in moments later. He’d always been in bed again when you woke up, though, the comforting weight of him beside you and his face the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes. 

Tyrion hadn’t come back, but packages from him had arrived throughout the week - blueprints and files, a secure phone that he’d used to call your group twice - and so you knew that he was still all in. You also knew that while the actual plan was to attack just before the wedding ceremony, there were contingencies in place in case the Lannisters acted out of character and attempted anything at the party. 

“You certainly did not complain about the way I was touching you the other night.” Narrowing his eyes playfully, he cocked his head to the side. “Or the way I used my hands.” 

“And I never would, but Oberyn, I do enjoy walking and being able to comfortably sit in chairs and breathing without pain, so … yeah. Five or six thousand years is a lot more than two, so -” Leaning in, you kissed him on the mouth, nodding. “Yes. You do what you need to do and I’m going to go and convince Toban and Tyene to let me have a couple cheap beers and the greasiest -” 

“Do you want me to stay in the other room tonight?” His hands went to your waist, all traces of humor gone from his tone. “The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.” That threw you, and you were unable to keep your expression from changing before you got yourself under control. Oh, Oberyn. 

“I’m … not sure.” Averting your eyes, you pressed your lips together. “I don’t think I’ll be able to answer that until I get back, to be honest.”  

“Thank you. Thank you for being -”

“Oberyn, will you please stop being annoying and let her leave?” Tyene popped her head into the room, a clear look of irritation on her face. “This isn’t the inquisition, and -” He stepped backwards, pulling you with him without looking away. But Oberyn used one hand to shove the girl back into the hallway, followed by closing the door before he pressed his back to it, two quick knocks from outside immediately following. “Two minutes, Martell. Or I’m breaking this door down, and -”

“I’ll be out in one, Tyene!” Raising your voice, you cut her off before turning your full attention to Oberyn. “I’ll see you when I get back.” You contemplated telling him to have fun, but decided against it, choosing instead to lean closer, winding your arms around his neck and tucking your head in. “In one piece, too. Maybe even a little tipsy. We’ll see.” 

“We will.” He kissed the top of your head, arms snaking around your waist. “Please be careful. Stay close to them. If one of them -”

“I’ll listen to them the same way I would you.” Backing off, you nodded. “I promise. Now kiss me goodbye and let me leave, alright?” He eyed you warily, but you could see that  there was pride in his eyes, too - the man staring at you in a way no one ever had before.

His kiss took you by surprise, the press of the man’s mouth gentle, even as the tips of his fingers dug into your sides. He deepened it, Oberyn swallowing your sigh as he traced his tongue along the edges of your teeth and then let it slide past them, meeting yours. 

It wasn’t a goodbye kiss, though you could have read it as one, because you were about to walk out the front door of the apartment into an uncertain world for the first time in days. Instead, it seemed to be a promise - that even though you were leaving and he’d be going to bed with another woman that he was in love with while you were gone, he was what would be waiting when you came back. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” He spoke into your ear, his voice barely above a whisper. “Enjoy yourself.” 

He took your hand and urged you away from the door, opening it and walking down the hallway to where the other three were waiting. Toban and Tyene were dressed to leave the apartment but Ellaria looked more casual - her long hair down and trailing over her shoulders, the dress she wore loose, too. She looks … beautiful. 

“Alright.” Tyene clapped her hands together when she saw the two of you and then pointed at the door. “I need a damn drink, let’s get the hell out of here.” She grabbed your free hand as she passed, tugging you away from Oberyn without breaking stride. “Toban’s buying.” 

Two hours later, you were ready to admit that getting out of the apartment and back into the real world was exactly what you needed. 

After a short Uber ride, the three of you found yourself in Culver City - not quite close enough to your apartment to make it obvious, but in a place you were much more comfortable with than you would have been at one of the upscale downtown bars. 

You’d been on edge until you finished your first drink, constantly looking around the somewhat crowded room, fingers curled protectively around the frosty glass - but when you’d seen how at ease Tyene and Toban were, you followed suit. 

Your second drink went down smoothly, too, while you focused on a story that Toban was telling about the years he’d spent in Australia. But before you could order a third, the man stopped you, his hand settling on your arm. “We’re going to walk down the street to another place before we do anything else.” 

“Why? Is it -”

“I believe you call this bar-hopping?” He lifted his glass, saluting with it before he finished the final sips of his beer. “And there are still enough people in costume that it’s good cover.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Plus, I think Tyene’s got her eye on someone, so we’ll have to leave once she’s done.” 

The two of you watched as the girl flirted with a man near the bar, reaching up to tousle his hair while she laughed. Good for her. “What about you?” You focused on him, taking a breath. “See anyone here that you like?” 

“I can wait.” He drummed his fingers on the table, looking around the room. “I need less and less to survive as time passes. It’ll be good to… renew myself, but my focus right now is on you.” 

“I didn’t want this.” Shifting in your seat, you shook your head. “The last thing I want is for someone else to be responsible for me because I’m just -” A human. A weak little human who wouldn’t stand a chance against the Mountain or a vampire or something as fucking simple as getting hurt. 

“I can’t speak for her,” he interrupted, gesturing to Tyene, who’d pulled the man into a kiss. “But I’m always happy to spend time with new friends.” He laid his hand atop yours, squeezing. “Especially when they’re as special as you are.” 

“I’m just -”

“You’re not just anything. Not anymore.” Toban lifted his hand and held up one finger, the man nodding - and you only realized that he was signaling Tyene when his attention was fully back on you, his expression widening into a grin. “And now I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” He nodded again, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a phone. “What is -”

“Choose someone you trust. Not family, if you can help it… but someone that you can have a conversation with. Talk for a few minutes, and then invite them out. Invite them to meet us at a random place around here. Are you familiar with the area?” 

“Yeah.” You took the phone, turning it over in your hand. “Is there anywhere I should avoid?” 

“No. Tyene can hear what you say. She’ll head to wherever you suggest next once she finishes with her friend and wait to see if anyone … else shows up before we do. Enhanced everything is an asset to us. And when we know it’s safe, you and I will head there, too.” 

“Is this dangerous? I don’t want to risk it if … This was great. I don’t need to -”

“I heard what you said to Oberyn earlier. You need the interaction. You need to see a friendly human face.” He leaned closer. “You need more than any of us can give you right now.” He was right - and you knew it, so with a tiny nod of agreement, you averted your eyes and dialed a number you knew by heart. 

It rang twice before someone picked up, and at the sound of the voice on the other end of the line, you closed your eyes, grinning. “Nora? It’s me. I’m so sorry I haven’t called you back. Want to meet for a drink?” 

Tag list reblogs coming soon! 

#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x female reader #pedrostories #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #oberyn x female reader #the red viper #the prince of dorne #game of thrones fic #oberyn martell fic #oberyn martell vampire au #game of thrones au #modern oberyn au #cowritten with rachael #something tofightfor #aphelion #aphelion masterlist #oberyn martell masterlist

[grandeoatmilklatte]

HL Characters and their Horror Movie Subgenres

+ some horror movies that fit said subgenre!

I'm back with some Horror movie head cannons for our favorite HL characters! A great way to kick of spooky season!

This is a sequel of sorts to my HL Characters and their Horror Movie Tropes post, so feel free to check that one out too if you haven't already! Please know that I love all of these characters, so please don't be offended by any of my assessments if they seem "mean". This is all in good fun and of course just my opinion.

Ominis Gaunt - Revenge Horror:

Who doesn’t love a good Horror movie where the main character gets revenge on anyone who hurt them? A good revenge movie feels cathartic for both the character and the audience, and makes you feel for the character, even when they’re doing unsavory things. While we never see Ominis enact any kind of revenge on anyone, and although this concept could apply to Seb as well, I’m giving this to Omi because he has enough issues in his life that he’s very capable of going crazy and enacting revenge on his family. Some movies that come to mind for Ominis are Carrie, Revenge, and Midsommar - all commonly considered “good for her” movies where the female lead gets revenge on those who harm her (but is Midsommar really a “good for her” movie in the end? That’s a topic for another day.) Bonus: Speaking of his family, although this is definitely not a subgenre, fucked up family horror movies fit Ominis well also - Hereditary, The Hills Have Eyes, and Texas Chainsaw Massacre come to mind. 

Sebastian Sallow - Psychological Horror:

There’s an argument to be made that Seb is manipulative throughout the game. Begging the MC to talk to the keepers to help with Anne’s illness, calling the MC ignorant for seeking help from a goblin only to immediately take it back, justifying murder, etc. This gives him the makings of psychological horror. Psychological Horror leaves you tense, confused, and wondering until the very end if you’re being played or not. Some movies that come to mind here are Black Swan, Watcher (Not THE Watcher like the movie about the house), and The Lodge. Bonus: definitely not a real subgenre, but sibling/twin related Horror fits Seb also - such as Goodnight Mommy and The Uninvited, which are also Psychological Horror movies that involve twins/siblings. 

Garreth Weasley - Horror Comedy:

As mentioned in my previous post, Garreth is the comic relief friend, so it seems only appropriate that his subgenre is Horror Comedy. He’s the type to crack a joke during a tense moment. Horror Comedies can sometimes be a little bit scary, but also funny and lighthearted. Movies like Shaun of the Dead, Ready or Not, and Cabin in the Woods fall into this subgenre, all varying in their ratio of horror vs comedy. Bonus entry: mad scientist Horror movies like Frankenstein and Reanimator, cause let’s face it, Garreth would totally bring something back from the dead in a lab (accidentally or not).

Leander Prewitt - Found Footage:

No Found Footage movie is complete without some incredibly brave dummy doing something or going somewhere they shouldn’t, and bringing a camera along for the ride. Leander, high off that Gryffindor pride and eager to prove himself would absolutely be all in for this. Coupled with the nervous shaky hands he would absolutely have and refusal to let go of the camera no matter how impractical it gets to keep running with it, and you have your perfect Found Footage film. Movies like Gonjiam Haunted Asylum and Grave Encounters fit Leander perfectly. 

Poppy Sweeting - Creature Feature:

This feels pretty obvious, but with her love of beasts, Poppy is of course a Creature Feature. To her, the creature can do no wrong, and the humans deserve whatever they get. Movies like Godzilla, Kong Kong, and Jaws (I said what I said. Jaws is a horror movie) all fit this subgenre. 

Imelda Reyes - Slasher Horror:

Imelda is brutal and cutthroat competitive, making her a perfect Slasher film. Whether she’s the Final Girl, or the Slasher herself, she’ll make for a killer good time! The older, campy-er Slashers are definitely more her style. Movies like Slumber Party Massacre and Black Christmas (1978) fit her. 

Amit Thakkar - Space Horror:

This might not technically be a subgenre, but let’s be real, what’s scarier than being completely alone in space? Amit would definitely say nothing is scarier. The obvious movie choice here is the Alien franchise. In my last post, I almost made Amit’s character trope be the Final Girl, with Ripley as his character choice but I changed it cause there were too many Final Girls, but Amit would absolutely vibe with Ripley. 

Natty Onai - Body Horror:

Natty’s animagus ability of course falls into the subgenre of body horror, specifically any body horror involving someone turning into an animal. Although we always see animagus transformations being seamless, imagine if they weren’t. Imagine having to watch a human transform into an animal slowly and grotesquely. Movies like The Fly and American Werewolf in London are what come to mind for Natty due to their horrific depictions of transforming into an animal. 

✨And now, please enjoy some silly bonus entries!✨

MC - Possession Horror:

Why is MC so overpowered? Surely the MC is possessed and this is the work of a demon. No normal person should be this powerful with virtually no explanation, magical or not. Is it ever explained why MC had ancient magic to begin with? No, no it’s not. MC probably messed with a ouija board and got themselves possessed. Movies like The Exorcist and The Exorcism of Emily Rose fit here well cause our MC is in desperate need of an exorcism.

Richard Jackdaw - Paranormal/Ghost Horror:

Duh. Movies include Paranormal Activity and The Others. 

Duncan Hobhouse - N/A:

The guy is afraid of a puffskein, for crying out loud. There's no way he's getting a subgenre. His movie would be Hotel Transylvania.

#ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #garreth weasley #leander prewett #imelda reyes #poppy sweeting #natsai onai #amit thakkar #hogwarts legacy headcanons #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy headcannons

[carolmunson]

fall frenzy: a commish extravaganza

hi everyone, it's me carol (i'm the kitty in the pumpkin basket) and times are scary which is so fitting since we're a hop away from spooky season and fall weather. i wanted to put together a commission/donation based mini-fic extravaganza. how it works: - send a donation through my ko-fi (starts at $5) - select a prompt and dialogue from these cutie lists autumn prompts and dialogue autumn fluff prompts autumn dialogue prompts (also open to writing dark fics but can't find prompts for those.) - let me know if you'd like for it to be a steve focus, eddie focus, or steddie x reader focus (or you can request for any of my au versions of these guys - yes that includes kas!eddie or the little blurbie of eddie and steve being vampires.) - you can either put your request in a private message on ko-fi with your tumblr name or message me here letting me know your request and the name attatched to the donation. - i will not write smut for any anonymous requestors. i will need confirmation that you are 18+ for smut to be involved. - i will not write insecure/bad body image reader because we should all feel like hotties!

commission requests are: closed i will start fulfilling these: september 1st

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #eddie munson fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington

[musical-shit-show]

dancing is a dangerous game

Pairing: Dewey Finn x Reader

Inspiration: Prompts #2 (“apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together.”) from Prompt List 1 and #15 (“would you ever consider going on a date with me?”) from Prompt List 2 requested by @animetattoochick

Warnings: mentions of drinking, strong language, suggestive dialogue, anxiety, mutual pining

Word Count: 2,305

Author's Note: We’re back baby! Thank you so much to @animetattoochick for this request and so sorry for the delay. I’m working through my other requests now and have more time this coming month to catch up. And very fitting since it’s spooky season and I have some more BJ requests in the pipeline ;) As always, check out my Masterlist, About Me page, and Prompt Lists if you’d like to submit a request! Happy reading!

“Do you want to go? I feel like it’s getting a bit crowded in here and the door’s right there—”

“Are you drunk?” Dewey asked incredulously, “We just got here!”

You groaned, wishing you were more drunk than you were. Dewey had a natural charm that allowed him to get away with way too much, including convincing you to go out. This time, it was a birthday party for one of Ned’s friends, and the degrees of separation barely warranted you being there.

The party was in the back room of the Roadhouse, and you nodded at some familiar faces as you still tried to formulate an escape plan. You weren’t the biggest partier, and would much rather be hanging out with your best friend on his couch.

You didn’t know when you first became friends with Dewey. You occasionally moonlighted as a substitute teacher, and after a few instances of bumping into Ned, he introduced you to his girlfriend, Patty, and Dewey.

The rest was history.

And although he was one of the only people you could truly rely on, you still found yourself cursing him for pushing you out of your comfort zone.

“Come on, I thought you liked the Roadhouse,” he egged, noticing your arms crossed over your chest in protest, “And they’re actually taking requests tonight! Maybe they’ll play some of that pop bullshit you like.”

Your mouth fell open slightly, then lilted upwards in an indignant smile. Dewey was also a master of getting under your skin.

“Excuse me, Finn,” you responded, “Just because you listen to metal and classic rock 24/7 doesn’t make your music taste any more superior to mine.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart,” he joked, pressing the bottle of beer he was nursing to his lips.

You scanned the room, and relaxed your shoulders as you noticed some familiar faces. Dewey was always the more adventurous one, the one who lit up a room. You didn’t mind fading into the background.

“I’ll uh, go find Patty,” you said, and Dewey’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He really thought you’d put up more of a fight, “I’ll stay. For now. If you buy me a drink.”

He flashed a toothy smile, glad he could keep you around for a little while longer. “A fair trade. I’ll get right on it.” He gave a small salute, causing you to break into a grin of your own.

You made your way over to the other side of the bar to greet Patty, who was furrowing her brow at her phone. Never a good sign with her.

“Hey!”

“Hey, sorry, just finishing up this email,” she droned, rolling her eyes.

“Work?” She nodded wordlessly, and after a few silent moments, she locked her phone with a click and breathed a sigh of relief.

“I love my job, I love my job, I love my job…” she affirmed, rubbing her temples. You sat down at a stool next to her.

“Hey, well, at least it’s done, right?”

“Right, and I don’t have to think about the mayor’s schedule for another 48 hours, so I’m gonna get wasted,” you laughed at her directness as Ned sat on the other side of her, “You in?”

“Oh, uh, maybe?” you were still on the fence about staying too late, and the thought of a hangover did not sound enticing. “Dewey’s grabbing me a drink now, so—”

“Ugh, Dewey,” Patty said, earning an eye roll from Ned. You guessed he wasn’t thrilled about his best friend and girlfriend constantly warring, “When are you two going to hook up already, anyways?”

Your felt your face get hot with blush at the question. You and Dewey? The thought hadn’t crossed your mind. Not for a while, that is.

“What?”

“Oh my god, you’ve already hooked up, haven’t you?” she said, pulling you closer. You could feel sweat forming on the back of your neck, “Tell me everything.”

“Patty—”

“Ned, I swear to god—”

“No!” you said over their bickering, “I mean, sorry, no. Dewey and I, we’re not, I mean, we’re just friends.”

Patty looked at Ned, who quirked an eyebrow. Suddenly you felt very out of the loop.

“Does he know that?” she asked, a devious smirk spread across her face. You loved Patty, but sometimes her gossiping was beyond dangerous.

Before you could answer, Dewey arrived, a drink in each hand. “Jack and Coke, per usual,” he smiled, handing you the glass. You grabbed it, and immediately took a long swig.

“Whoa, killer, slow your roll,” he laughed. Patty and Ned both shifted on their stools. Dewey eyed the three of you suspiciously, “Why do I feel like I missed something?”

“Don’t worry about it, Dew,” Ned replied. For all of his nervous tendencies, he was pretty good at deflecting, “Wanna play some pool?”

You breathed a small sigh of relief as the two men headed towards the billiards tables, leaving you to finish off your drink and work quickly to order another.

***

“Why do you think me and Dewey hooked up?” you asked Patty, several hours and drinks later. Though you hadn’t crossed the threshold into full drunkenness, you were just tipsy enough to gain some courage.

She sighed, twirling the straw in her gin and tonic. “Because, my love, I see the way he looks at you,” she said, not an ounce of irony or sarcasm in her voice, “And don’t act like you don’t spend every waking moment together—”

“Because we’re friends!” you shot back defensively, “I mean, I’ve never even…I didn’t think he’d like me that way.”

Patty quirked an eyebrow. “Well, do you like him that way?”

A pit formed in your stomach almost instantly as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. The alcohol in your veins was making you particularly honest.

“I guess, I don’t know…yes. I think. It’s complicated, okay?” you finally spat out, your voice hushed in fear that someone else would hear you, “He’s my best friend, and I didn’t want to ruin what we have so…I never did anything about it.”

For once, she shot you an empathetic look. Her and Dewey were reluctant roommates on the best of days, but even she was heartened by your babbling. “Well, no time but the present,” she said with a smirk.

Patty grabbed your shoulders to turn you ninety degrees, and you saw Dewey standing next to Ned, also a few beers in and clearly having a good time. You gulped, a slower pop song blaring in your ears as the weathered disco ball spun languidly.

“Move along now,” Patty taunted in your ear, “Ned and I have a little bet going about you two.”

“What?!”

“Just for fun,” she said, giving you a little nudge forward, “we have to entertain ourselves somehow, don’t we?”

You walked away from her, and before you had time to think, you heard yourself asking “Wanna dance?” to Dewey, who looked genuinely surprised by your proposition. Ned snuck off without a word, leaving the two of you alone.

A small smirk played on Dewey’s face as the two of you stepped towards the dance floor; there were several other couples dancing near you, and despite your liquid courage, you were praying you wouldn’t be the center of attention.

There was a brief moment of awkwardness as you placed your arms around his neck. It wasn’t like you and Dewey had never danced with each other before; he always had a way of dragging you to the dance floor when one of his favorite classics was played.

But now, you were acutely aware of the way his hands rested on your hips, and how your breath smelled like vodka, and the thin veil of sweat that was making his usually unruly hair stick to his forehead.

“Oh, come on,” he teased, his eyes flickering to your stance, “I think we can do better than the ‘leave room for Jesus’ bullshit, don’t you?” You laughed, realizing how far you were standing from him. It was as if you had been transported back to your 8th grade school dance.

Dewey grabbed one of your hands and laced his fingers with your own. You couldn’t help but let out a small gasp as he pulled your body flush to his, while his other palm gripped your waist tightly.

“That’s better,” he smiled, giving you another once over. Clearly the booze had made him more daring as well. You grinned back, doing your best to hide your newfound nerves.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“I don’t know, I’m just having a good night,” he shrugged, the two of you swaying in sync as the song continued, “You should try it sometime.”

Your mouth fell open slightly at his jab, “Hey, I’m the one who asked you to dance, remember?” you fired back, “Or are you drunker than I thought?” He shook his head in denial. “Quick,” you mocked, removing your hand from his and flashing three digits, “How many fingers am I holding up?” Dewey barked a laugh, gently grabbing your hand again. You smiled nervously at the gesture, your heart beating faster in your chest.

“Why did you ask me, by the way?” his voice uncharacteristically soft, “Not that I mind, but you know I’m used to more headbanging while I dance.”

You smiled, glancing over at Patty and Ned. They were watching you intently, drinks in hand. Of course.

“Apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together,” you tried to say nonchalantly, “Or more accurately, that we’ll sleep together. Or, have slept together. I don’t know—”

“Breathe,” Dewey stopped you, “It was Patty, wasn’t it?” You nodded sheepishly, and he shook his head in disbelief, “I swear that woman knows exactly how to drive me insane…I told her nothing is going on between us.” You couldn’t help but notice that his voice had a slight tinge of sadness.

Now was your chance. You said a silent prayer that your nerves wouldn’t get the best of you.

“I mean…it’s not that crazy of an idea, is it?” you probed, doing your best to not shift your eye contact away from Dewey’s brown ones, “We do spend a ton of time together…honestly thinking about it, I kinda get why everyone thinks we’ve…”

Dewey’s eyes widened in mild surprise as you trailed off, the implication clearly hanging in the air. He never would’ve thought he’d be the cautious one when it came to this topic.

“Yeah, sure,” he conceded, “But wouldn’t that, ya know…change things?”

He always had feelings for you, but he didn’t want to risk ruining your friendship. You were too important to him, and an amazing friend, so he had silently resigned himself to hold those feelings close to his chest.

You swallowed your fear and shoved it down your throat. “Of course,” you became acutely aware of your palms growing sweatier by the second and hoped he didn’t notice, “But is it bad that I don’t care? Maybe we could give it a try. It could be good. Really good, even.”

“Goddamn, what has gotten into you tonight?” he threw your own question back at you as you felt your face getting flush.

“Maybe I don’t want to be a wuss anymore,” you smiled, “You should take notes, Finn.” He barked a laugh at your teasing.

Your stomach flipped as a completely new expression came over Dewey’s face. Well, at least completely new to you; who knows how he looked at you when you weren’t paying attention.

But you could tell from the way he eyed you that something finally shifted. “So,” he said coyly, “Since I’m a gentleman, I’m just going to make sure I do this the right way: Would you ever consider going on a date with me?”

Before you could answer, he spun you around and dipped you playfully, a giggle bubbling out of you as the song came to a close.

“Duh, you idiot,” you laughed, heart swelling in your chest now that the pent-up feelings you held onto for years were finally released. How could you have missed what was right in front of you for so long? You were almost embarrassed that Patty had to spell it out for you.

“Or maybe we could skip the date and go back to your place instead?” Dewey couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow suggestively. He certainly didn’t wait to start the blatant flirting, and you weren’t exactly complaining.

Still, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “Why, so you can avoid Patty for the rest of the night?”

“…Maybe.”

“No.”

“Can you blame me? She’s a nightmare.”

“She’s fine, Dew,” you said as you both walked away from the dance floor, “And you have to admit, she clocked us pretty well.”

“I am not drunk enough to pay that woman a compliment,” he retorted, crossing his arms across his chest. You knew he was only partially kidding but still laughed anyways, “And she wasn’t right about everything. We haven’t hooked up. Again, we can definitely change that—”

“Don’t make me punch you, Finn,” you threatened, a playful smile dancing on your lips. You couldn’t believe how easily you both slipped into casual flirting; then again, you wondered if you had always been doing it without even realizing.

It was clear everyone else noticed, not that it mattered anymore.

“Kidding,” he said, throwing his hands up in mock surrender, “Kind of.”

“How about this,” you proposed, reaching the bar again. Luckily none of your friends were around to grill you just yet, “You buy me another drink, we dance some more, and see where the night takes us?”

Dewey’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a deal.”

*****

Thanks for reading! Like/comment/reblog if you enjoyed :)

#fanfiction #dewey finn #dewey x reader #dewey finn x reader #alex brightman #school of rock #school of rock musical #school of rock broadway #fanfic #fluff #fluff prompts #fanfiction prompt #writing prompt #romance writing #my writing #school of rock bway #jack black #requests #request #reqs open #masterlist #master list #prompt #prompts #writing prompts

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Becoming Friends With Tsugaru And Taking Care Of Him After He Protects You From A Group Of Monsters

Tsugaru Shinuchi X FemReader

Rating: T+

Warnings: Scary images, blood, Tsugaru teases reader, drunk Tsugaru, steamy, angst

Word Count: 1.4k

(A/N:) I just started watching Undead Murder Farce on Crunchyroll (trying to break up a little bit of my One Piece catch up) and I immediately fell in love with this series. While I'm still in the process of watching all the episodes I had to write something for Tsugaru as he is my absolute favorite character! I love him and I'm in shock at the lack of fanfics of him. I decided to remedy that as I got this idea and had to write it! I hope this helps my fellow fangirls out with this unhinged psycho we adore! Also started watching this at a perfect time as well! Happy spooky season may your season be creepy and full of sweet horrors. 😉 Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

The blackened streets swallowed you whole, enough where even the moonlight couldn't penetrate the shadows. Your feet hit against the ground as growls followed right behind you. Your fingertips bleeding as you tried to feel your way through the obstacles before you. Snarls and howls made your hair stand up, but your escape seemed futile. No matter how far you ran or how fast you went, you couldn't leave the creatures behind. You knew death was nipping at your heels and you felt the clawed grasp. Whirling around to see the gaping maw filled with blood drenched fangs.

You screamed, your blankets going flying across the room as you sat in your futon drenched with sweat. A knock came from the front door again before it slammed open. Tsugaru raced into your room, dark eyes looking for any signs of danger. When he saw everything clear and that you sat there trembling, he relaxed.

"Sorry," you muttered fixing your clothing, "just another bad dream."

He nodded in understanding. "About that night?"

Your silence was all the answer the oni slayer needed. That fateful horrific night was the night you met Tsugaru Shinuchi. He had been out trying to find somewhere still open to buy booze when he heard your screams. As a proclaimed oni slayer he had made quick work of the monsters before he gracefully laughed in your terrified face. First it had made you mad before you realized just how unhinged the man was. Though you were grateful, you offered him a meal and before you knew it he was a regular at your house. Despite that first encounter you both became fast friends. But even if you wanted to, Tsugaru was one you couldn't get rid of, if he found a reliable source of food (that didn't cost him anything) he stuck around. And you couldn't say no to the man who saved you that night. You found yourself fond of him and the more you got to know him, the more you started to like him.

"I guess you're here because you're hungry Tsugaru," you asked waltzing right past the tall and lanky man.

"Why else would I be here," he grinned wildly; following behind you with his normal hunched over walk, hands in his sleeves.

"Well it's not for my charming personality and you aren't the most pleasant company when you come around."

He chuckled slamming his hand on the sliding door, keeping you from opening it. He wasn't allowed in the kitchen and he wasn't going to let you leave until he made you blush.

"You weren't saying that the other night when I kissed you," Tsugaru teased, rejoicing in the red marring your ears. He knew about your feelings and he couldn't deny that deep down somewhere he cared for you as well. The night he was referring to was, he had earned enough money and found a seller willing to part with more booze than the normal vendors. So Tsugaru did what any insane man would do, drunk himself stupid and passed out in front of your door. The only reason you knew he was out there was he was snoring so loud that he would wake himself up and then sing some obnoxious songs before falling into a giggling fit when he would hiccup and ruin the chorus. You wound up dragging him inside, with a lot of difficulty. You had been in the process of giving him a pillow and a light blanket when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you down giving you a sloppy drunken kiss. Despite his glazed eyes they held a sort of mirth that had you reeling back and slapping him hard on the cheek. He woke up the next morning with a horrible hangover and a throbbing red cheek. When he asked (like he didn't remember) you would blush deeply and snarl at him to shut up.

"Do you want to eat or not," you spoke calmly though you could swear your heart was about to beat from your chest.

"Of course. Whether it's food or you I have no preference," he whispered. Hot breath stirring the hair that had slipped from your braid last night. "As a half oni I prefer the flesh of beautiful young women."

You elbowed him in the gut, hard. Tsugaru hunched over his aching stomach, wheezing out a laugh while you hurriedly opened the sliding door then slammed it in his face. You leaned against the wall trying to catch your breath and stop the burning in your cheeks. He's an idiot and you couldn't come up with an excuse of why you couldn't adore him. After he recovered from your blow he took a seat close to where you worked. He couldn't see you but just knowing you were close by, eased him. He rubbed at the blue lining his arm before taking a deep breath.

"I'm leaving," he spoke bluntly.

You sucked in a breath, your knife cutting up vegetables freezing. Tears suddenly pricked at your eyes.

"I've been hired by a woman to assist her," Tsugaru continued, picking at a splinter in the floor. "I won't have to fight in the freak show anymore. But I'm leaving and I may never see you again."

The door to the kitchen slammed open with a violent thud. You stood in the doorway but refused to move as tears streamed down your cheeks. Yes he's embarrassing and crazy to boot, but you couldn't imagine life without Tsugaru Shinuchi.

"Why," you croaked staring at him with barely contained emotions.

"I won't live long," he sighed before standing up. Rubbing at his neck at the awkwardness he felt as he watched you cry. "My oni side is consuming my humanity and while I thought I had made peace with that, apparently I haven't. She's promising me a longer life and I'm taking it."

"Idiot," you hiccupped. But you understood. You really truly could understand. If it hadn't been for him you wouldn't be alive and that night you had prayed desperately to live. You couldn't stand in the way of him living a much longer life, to spit in the face of his creator.

"You're the idiot becoming friends with me," Tsugaru retorted.

"That's your fault. I fed you once and you keep coming right back," you laughed bitterly. "Like a stray dog."

You teasing him was a good sign so he stepped forward taking you in his strong arms.

"I'm your stray dog," Tsugaru replied before licking up the side of your face causing you to screech at his wet tongue against your skin. You rubbed at the warm sticky saliva on your face, when Tsugaru captured your wrist. He backed you up, pressing you against the wall of the room. His eyes blazing brightly before kissing you deeply. You struggled at first before melting into his warmth. Gripping his thick blue locks in your fingers.

Breaking the kiss he kept his nose pressed to your cheek breathing against your ear, "Woof."

You shivered, finally shoving him away.

"When do you leave?"

"Tonight," he replied taking back his seat like he hadn't just given you an Earth shattering kiss.

"Guess I better make you a meal to remember," you said. "Maybe my stray dog will make his way back to me one of these days if I feed him well enough one more time."

Tsugaru laughed, barking loudly as you closed the door to him. You never realized how much you needed Tsugaru in your life, until he was being taken from you. While you didn't need his protection like you had, just his presence alone was enough to show you that you weren't alone. While you knew that one day you wouldn't have him, you didn't think it would happen this soon. But you couldn't keep him from doing the things that he needed to do, to make his life better. Taking a deep breath, steeling yourself, you got to work. You wouldn't leave him with bad memories of you. And one day when he came back the reunion would be sweet and maybe he could take you away from this place. Until then you would hold onto the memories you made with him and remember Tsugaru Shinuchi how he wanted to be remembered.

#Tsugaru Shinuchi X Reader #Tsugaru Shinuchi / Reader #Tsugaru Shinuchi #Shinuchi Tsugaru #Tsugaru Shinuchi Imagine #Undead Girl Murder Farce #Undead Murder Farce #Imagine #Undead Murder Farce Imagine #Not My Gif #My Writing

[whyhellosims]

WHS - Harlequin Clown Outfit

Info and download link beneath the cut!

What you get:

Base game compatible full body outfit, teen through elder. Femme frame, but you can try it on male frame (beware the cronchy tiddies). Found under everyday and party, because honestly where does this fit in? You get 12 swatches in different circus / spooky times colors, with a few wintery light ones thrown in for good measure. Long hairs will clip through the collar, same as for the in-game clown outfit. Disallowed for random because the game is chaotic enough already. Enjoy spooky season, friends!

In game shots:

Outdoors and indoors (sorry, I forgot that disco place has outdoor lighting too, FML). And some action shots!

TOU: No pay sites ever. This item is free always, no conditions, no a*fly links. I don’t think well enough of myself to think anyone would “steal” this, as anyone could make it, but if you use it and you want to credit me, I’d love to see your sims, so just tag me.

If you like my work, please consider a reblog to spread the word?

Here we goes! ➡ SFS Link

Pose credits to @helgatisha

MOAR WhyHelloSims CC

#ts4cc #ts4 #sims4cc #s4cc #ts4 cc #sims 4 cc #maxis match cc #WHS #whs cc

[softcthulhuwu]

Rambling thoughts after the first two episodes:

Now this might just be because I'm autistic and always chafe against rigid boxes and definitions, but it seems to me that our first spooky tales from the OIAR don't really fit neatly into Smirke's categories that we're all so used to from the Archives.

Granted one of them is fairly classic cut and dry Eye shit, but the other two seem to purposely skirt the boundaries between things like the Flesh and the Stranger etc.

Now of course in the Archives we have a fair few episodes that get funky with the boundaries especially later on like in the apocalypse, the chief example that comes to mind being the big ocean Jon had to row across seeming to be a fun mix of the horror the incomprehensibly huge of the Vast, and the crushing all consuming pressure you'd associate more with the Buried

But my point being that in season one in particular, aside from a few teething issues as a result of still figuring things out *badum tish*, most statements¹ fit fairly nicely into clear cut examples of the major fears. Makes sense, first season, gotta lay down the rules before you can get funky with them.

But here in Protocol we've got the benefits of it being a sequel series with a lot of the heavy lifting world-building-wise already done, most of the audience going in has preestablished expectations, so by starting with the old lines between the fears blurrier, this is an opportunity to hint that A) hey, maybe things are working not quite the same here, which IIRC was something they talked about on one of the livestreams after things were announced last year don't quote me on that I do not have a citation to hand (forgive me Hbomberguy for I have sinned),

And B) sure Smirke's system was one way of trying to understand the fears, but as we well learned last show, it's limited and imperfect, it's more of a spectrum than discreet categories. Smirke's was just one way of trying to break it down into more understandable chunks, but it's not the be-all end-all of it, and clearly far from the only way to do it. The OIAR has a whole massive handbook of its own categories to catalogue these things in a manageable way, one which is seemingly less concerned with philosophical ideas about "What kind of fear did you experience? That of prey hunted by predator, that of violent war-like carnage, livestock chopped up for parts?", and more of a nitty-gritty details oriented one, like a "okay but what actually happened to you, like, specifically? Was it 'reanimation - partial', or more an 'amalgamative', subsection 'semi' kinda deal? Yes this is important why do you ask" type system.

I dunno I just think it's cool and interesting, these are my late night thoughts I can't help it I'm in essay mode literally working on an essay about The Magnus Archives for uni. Getting a good grade in my autism interest it turns out is a thing that is both normal to want and possible to achieve.

¹ not including Hilltop Road in this, Hilltop Road gonna Hilltop Road, that's a surprise tool to scare you later.

#the magnus protocol #tmagp #tmagp spoilers

[bluebellhairpin]

"Step right up - Behind this curtain lies a ghastly concoction of Delight, Horror, Fantasy and terror. Your every wish is our command! Your every whimsical desire brought to life - But I'm warning you, there's always a price..."

Welcome to the Fight Night Bash Writing Collab!

With the spooky season quickly on the approach, it's about time we all start thinking about how scared and horny we're going to be this year - one way we can do that is a Writing Collab!

If you're interesting in joining, take a look at the Rules and Regulations below;

Entrant's must be over 18 years old - due to the nature of the event and the content surrounding it (nsfw, dark content, etc), it keeps everyone safe.

Fandoms that can be included are My Hero Academia, Attack on Titan, Jujutsu Kaisen, and Demon Slayer (However fics can be for any character from any fandom.)

There can be double-ups of characters. You can write more than one fic (however there is no pressure to do so). This isn't just meant as a 'Halloween event' - if you've had a fic that follows this theme, now is your chance to finish it!

Fic are categorized by three tiers; Spooky (SFW Halloween themed fics), Scary (NSFW fics), and Skeletons (Full-fledged Horror and NSFW). All these can have horror elements in them, just at varying degrees. This helps keep everything organized - when you come to me with your fic idea you must tell me which category it fits into (this can change, so don't worry if the plot changes by the time you're finished writing). If you have any questions just ask.

There is no minimum OR maximum word count - a few hundred word drabbles are just as welcome as 10k works.

There will be a Discord open, and if you'd like to join please ask (I made it specially so we can all help motivate each other) - this process will go smoother if you already know me, or one of the mods.

This will be a collab with potentially triggering content (both with the horror element, and certain kinks) - it's not for the faint of heart, so please think it through before joining. Despite everything, at it's core this is meant to be fun!

If you would like to join, send me a DM with the character you'd like to write for - and don't forget to send in your fic (and tag 'Fright Night Bash 2023') after it's posted so it can be linked below!

(And remember, this is a event that WILL have Dark AND NSFW Content - so everyone who joins up must be over 18 years old.)

ENTRY DEADLINE; September 7th

MASTERLIST LIVE ON; October 31st

SPOOKY;

Nothing here - Yet!

SCARY;

Private Indulgences - Suguru Geto (@/selfindulgentpixies)

TBA - Muzan Kibutsuji (@/demon-plaything)

TBA - Zeke Jaeger (@/nixie-writes-aot)

SKELETONS;

TBA - Gods!Shigaraki + Dabi (@/jabberwocky-92)

N/A - Vampire!Levi Ackerman (@/anlian-aishang)

Maneater - Erwin Smith (@/bluebellhairpin)

#fright night bash 2023 #writing collab #fanfic collab #halloween event #halloween 2023 #fic collab #mutual appreciation #bnha x reader #aot x reader #jjk x reader #demon slayer x reader

[tmntxthings]

it’s spooky season 🎃👻 may I please request some headcanons for the turtles with a friend or S/O (up to you) who can see & talk to ghosts? like in paranorman?

Humans, Mutants, and Ghosts!

author’s note: OH MY! you really know how to spark that creative writing energy, but I definitely think my brain went haywire after Raph’s lol, went from angsty seriousness to straight up ghost crack 💀 idek anymore but we gonna just go ahead and post anyways

warnings: spooky fluff, angst, cursing, crack, unedited

—————————————————————————

Raph

“Hey Raphie” you said entering his room and immediately going to collapse on his bed. “Rough day?” Raph asked as he continued with his dumbbell reps. “More like rough life,” you muttered into his pillow. “Oh c’mon Y/n, school was that bad?” You sighed, wondering if you should shed some light, Raph didn’t know about the endless bullying you endured.

You weren’t like most, and try as you might to fit in, to be normal, it never worked out. You were cursed with an ability to see the dead. No one else knew, no one else could see them, only you. You had made the mistake of confiding to your friends when you were younger, and ever since then you were bullied. “Stop lying!!” “You’re such an attention whore,” “Really? Ghosts?? They’re not real.” “Freak.” “Weirdo”

The berating continued through high school. Some days were better than others. But today, you had witnessed something so creepy you couldn’t keep quiet. To not force yourself to relive the whole experience let’s just say it involved, three ghosts, and a guillotine. Enough said. And you just couldn’t keep in your gasp, causing the whole classroom to look your way. Whispering and side glances thrown your way as the teacher asked if you had something to say, “No, sorry” you replied already knowing you were gonna pay big time for your interruption.

“Fuckin’ phoney,” a group of your regular bullies had decided to follow you after school ended. “Hey! Creep! We just wanna talk, what did you see in class?? A ghost peen??” Laughter trailed behind you as you started to walk faster, ignoring them. You couldn’t go home. They’d just follow you inside, posing as actual friends to your parents. You decided you needed to lose them in the crowd, maybe visit your real friends… the group would get bored of trying to find you if you spent an hour or two at the lair.

“Don’t let them get away!” The head honcho growled, the group noticed your change in direction, heading for the bustling streets. But it was no use, you were a master of blending in, sneaking away, sticking to the shadows, you had ninjas for friends after all. When the coast was clear you dashed into the familiar alleyway, prying the manhole cover up so you could descend down the ladder quickly.

“No, it’s not all that bad..” you told Raph, sighing to yourself as you lied. You didn’t want his pity. You were lucky to finally have friends that treated you normally, regardless if they weren’t human, you’d take cool, friendly mutants over mean, fake humans any day. “Well if you ever wanna talk about what’s bothering you, I’ll be here,” Raph said reassuringly, knowing you were holding something back. He grunted as he placed the dumbbell on the floor, finished with his reps. “You wanna go to the arcade?” Raph asked, knowing it would help get your mind off of things. “Yeah,” you said turning your face to his voice, smiling at him, he always knew how to cheer you up, even if you weren’t telling him everything.

“They’ll find out eventually Y/n,” you slowly got out of Raph’s bed trying to keep a neutral face as you ignored the ghost pestering you. Did you mention that the ghosts bullied you just as much as your fellow classmates? Yeah, they loved to toy with you ever since they found out you could hear them, see them. “Then you’ll be all alone again, without a friend in this world, at least you’ll have me hahahahha” you held your tongue, following Raph to the arcade as he talked about what game the two of you should play. You were trying to pay attention to what he was saying. But it was hard with the ghost in your ear, circling you and coming in between you and Raph, distracting you so much that Raph stopped. “Y/n?”

“Huh?” You said blinking, looking through the ghost up at Raph. “I said, do you wanna play DDR? Or table hockey?” Raph was used to your dazed state, he didn’t mind repeating himself for you. But he was worried because you seemed tired. More tired than usual, like everything was draining you today. “Table hockey,” you said after a moment. “Heh smart choice, I’d beat you in Dance Dance Revolution,” he teased. “Yeah at least I’ll have a chance with the hockey,” you laughed, even though Raph was so big he had the moves!

You stood on your end of the table, holding onto your pusher, in a defensive position to cover your goal. You’d let Raph get the first push at the puck. But it seemed the ghost that had been badgering you wasn’t giving in that easily. Floating over to Raph, it always bothered you more when they went closer to your friends. You could handle ghosts in your face, in your ear, you were used to it. Still you took in a deep breath, reminding yourself Raph couldn’t see it, couldn’t feel it, couldn’t hear the horrible things it was saying. “What do you even see in this big lump? He’s totally stupid, rocks for brains!” You shot a glare at the ghost, but to Raph it looked like you were glaring at him.

“Uh Y/n?” He said sheepishly, wondering if you were that pissed that he had already managed to score on you. “Nice Raph, I was uh- getting my game face on!” You recovered, grabbing the puck from your goal and placing it in the center. You decided to go on the offensive this round. “Heh your game face is real scary!” Raph was half joking, half serious. That round had been quite intense, you hardly could hear the ghosts droning on as you focused on the game. Earning a point for yourself! “Yes!” You cheered, a big smile on your face as you looked up at Raph. It faltered slightly as you saw the ghost had it’s arms wrapped around Raph’s neck, acting as if he were choking your friend. “Nice one!” Raph said grinning, “last point to decide the winner!”

You blinked, nodding as you looked back down at the hockey table. That round took the longest, Raph ended up with the victory and he did a little dance in celebration, causing you to laugh. “Oh yeah!! oh yeah,” he sang being silly. The two of you ended up back in his room, talking and laughing. “So, you wanna talk about earlier?” He asked gently, a soft smile on his face. You knew he was talking about school, and you chewed on your lower lip. You would like to think that Raph was a really good person, someone who wouldn’t judge you for your curse. But you had thought that before and had been burned.

You sighed, looking at Raph, “tell him tell him tell him tell him tell him tell him tell him tell him” you wanted to, despite your fears. Despite all the things the ghosts told you would happen if you did. “Raph, I’m not really liked at school,” you admitted quietly and he joined you on his bed, sitting next to you. He had a confused look on his face, not understanding how people couldn’t like you! You were so nice, you were easy to talk to! Among a bunch of other great qualities that Raph listed off in his head. “I don’t understand, why??” Raph asked. “Well, there is a rumor about me,” your eyes looked past him, in a daze as you remembered. “People believe the rumor and think I’m weird…”

“What rumor?” Raph said gruffly, not liking how judgmental the people at school seemed. Whatever rumor it was, surely people would see you for you! “That I can see ghosts,” you spoke so quietly it was practically whispered. “Ghosts?” Raph said thinking that was ridiculous. “And people believe that rumor??” You nodded, cringing at yourself for not saying the entire truth. “How could they?! I mean ghosts aren’t real!” And you looked down at your hands in your lap. The ghosts in the room cackling and laughing. “Hear that ladies and gentlemen, we ain’t real! Pftahaha hahahaha”

“I mean honestly Y/n they’re the weird ones for making up such a rumor and then believing it!” Raph continued. You looked up at him with shiny eyes, “the rumor.. it was started by me.” And Raph’s nonexistent eyebrows came together in even more confusion. “Huh??” And your hands went to your face, you couldn’t believe you were about to do this. Raph obviously didn’t believe in ghosts from what you just heard, yet you were still going to tell him. “Raph, I can see ghosts. I can hear them too. They are everywhere, they follow me around. I once told my friends and they didn’t believe me, and told the entire school… so I’m the ridiculous one,” you said rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands.

Raph’s mouth opened and closed. “Oh,” he said finally, trying to buy himself some time to formulate some thoughts. Then Raph reached for your hands, and you were surprised. You had been ready for him to laugh at you to call you a liar. “Can you see them now?” He asked curious, as if he was actually considering that you were telling him the truth. You nodded and went full on descriptive mode. “There’s actually been a jackass of a ghost following me around all day today, much like the bullies at school, he kept telling me how you wouldn’t believe me, that I’d be casted out again and alone for real this time. Of course he’d still be there, he went on to insult you… which was why I made that face back there in table hockey, and yeah wow I sound insane!” You said squeezing his hands and looking into his eyes hoping you hadn’t just scared him off.

“No no it makes total sense now, I had never seen you make such a face before in table hockey, you don’t really get upset when you lose at games,” Raph said remembering all the times the two of you had played together or with his brothers. You weren’t a sore loser. You smiled softly, “So… you believe me??” You asked and he smiled, “well I guess even if it sounds pretty unbelievably! I am a mutant after all I’m sure a lot of weird things exist even if I can’t see them!”

You hadn’t thought of that. But sure enough if you could have a cursed ability to see and hear ghosts, and you now had ninja mutant friends, was it really all that crazy? Or was this just a normal day in New York and most people were just utterly oblivious to? You decided it was the latter. “Thanks Raphie,” you beamed, he really did know how to cheer you up!

Leo

“And now she’s peeing,” you said in disgust as you watched the ghost dog squat right over Leo’s comic book pile. Leo gasped, “where did you say it was?!” He said putting the comic he currently has in his hands down to his lap as he looked around his room. “…do you really wa-“

“YES!” Leo cut you and said quickly, sitting up now and eyes his comic book collection. Already having an instinctual feeling as to where the invisible thing was. “Over the comics,” you said swiftly and watched as Leo jumped over you and out of bed. Stomping over to his collection and waved his arms frantically in the arm. “Stop it! You criminal how could you?! These are my babies!” Leo said dramatically and you couldn’t stop from snorting.

No matter what Leo did his arms were just going straight through the tiny corgi. The ghostly pew stream still going steady all over his babies. Though you really didn’t understand why Leo cared it wasn’t like they were actually wet. But you were sure he was thinking some dum dum of a thought. That it was about the principle and discipline and the blatant disrespect of his prized things. He said as much. “Lee, it’s a corgi, and let me just say it’s not mine! The pup just won’t stop following me!” You made sure to reiterate.

No doggo of yours would pee inside the house! Nope you would definitely train them, if for nothing else than to be potty trained! Leo grumbled, “and the only reason why I didn’t grab my odachis was because it’s a dog!” And you smacked your forehead. Not even bothering to explain how even his swords wouldn’t be able to do anything to a ghost. Mystic weapons they may be, you highly doubted teleportation swords qualified to be able to pierce ghostly beings.

Yes, Leo knew of your curse. And in the beginning he was a big nonbeliever. But you were way past the caring of what others thought. You’d continue to react to seeing your ghost friends, animals and slowly but surely Leo came to believe, it was either that or your imagination never stopped running. And even Mikey didn’t have that much creative juice! So Leo had decided you were either the world’s greatest actor and Donnie had paid you a fortune to prank him for forever. Or you could see ghosts.

Leo had annoyed Donnie on many occasions on that specific topic just in case. “Nardo. I’m telling you there is no prank with Y/n” he would say with a long sigh, tired of being badgered. “Poochie,” you said in a high pitched voice, calling the corgi over to Leo’s bed where you laid. Leo placed his hands on his hips. “Oh so now it can get in my bed too?” Leo questioned and you just gave him a smile, “oh come on she’s not gonna pee again, she literally just did!” You said pointing over to the comics and he admitted you had a point. Though Leo didn’t exactly know how to climb back into his bed without wondering if he was going to crush the dog.

“Lee, just hop in, it’s floating,” you pointed toward the foot of his bed. “Oh okay,” he said. “Goodnight pooch,” Leo said going to pat where you just pointed and you snickered as the dog licked Leon’s face, happy for the attention. “What now?” Leo questioned as he got next to you, laying down. “She likes you, licked all over your face when you petted her,” you explained, turning to face him. “Awwww, I love you too pooch!” Leo said happily and waggled his brow bones at you. “We’re gonna have to come up with a better name,” Leo said seriously. And you nodded, “how about Princess?” You offered and Leo asked you to pull up a picture of what the corgi looked like.

“Hmmm,” he said once he was supplied with a similar look-alike picture. “No not Princess,” he replied. “That’s a Lady,” he said in complete confidence and you gasped as you nodded. He was completely right because the dog started barking and jumping around excitedly. “It really is!” You nodded and smiled telling Leo the dogs reaction, or rather Lady’s reaction. “What can I say, Mikey ain’t the only one who can name like a boss!” He said hands going behind his head and legs crossing casually. You laughed shaking your head at his cockiness. “All hail the new name king,” you said sarcastically bowing your head towards him. “Rise peasants, no need for flattered,” he continued on with the bit.

But you pushed him arm, at the word peasant and he immediately snickered. “Just kidding just kidding,” he told you. “Yeah that’s what I thought,” you stuck out your tongue and he copied you. That night Lady had sneakily crept up to lay in between you and Leo, you woke up with the green ghostly outline of the dog missing it’s front left paw. And you couldn’t help but smile, noticing Leo’s mouth parted open and slightly drooling on his pillow. He was such a goofball, but he was your goofball!

Donnie

“Alright Y/n, have you ever seen the greats? Darwin? Newton? GALILEO?! EINSTEIN?!” He was getting more and more excited at the possibilities. Just to make sure you knew who he was talking about he flashes holographic images in front of your face of all the scientists he just named. “Well, no I don’t think so, they don’t exactly look the same as when they were alive,” you tried to explain.

Sometimes whole heads were chopped off and the ghost would just float around aimlessly. Yeah… you were immune to the gore. “Hmm well most of these guys died from heart issues, though Darwin did pass from both heart attack and seizures.” Donnie explained, and you wondered just how much of his brain was filled with information on his favorite scientists. “Oh well, then they should look much the same,” you noted as you tried to remember the faces from the images he still had up. “Though… Einstein’s brain was removed after his death,” Donnie said making a face at what you assumed he was imagining you would see.

“It’s not all that bad, though I might be saying that just cause I’ve seen pretty much everything death related at a young age,” you watched as Donnie turned in his swivel chair, tapping his wrist tech to turn off the holograms. “Well if you haven’t seen them then that’s fine, they probably don’t haunt the sewers of New York,” he joked. “You’d be surprised, a lot of ghosts just like the company I reluctantly provide, and they are all total gossips so I’ve seen a lot,”

“Why don’t you just lie? I can pretend to be Charles Darwin,” one haughty ghost stated. You sighed, “see now I’m getting suggestions to lie to you because they want attention, that one just said he’d pretend to be Darwin for you,” you said as you pointed across the room. “No thank you, no lies needed to appease me,” Donnie said shooting a glare across the room. The ghost grumbled as he faded through the walls.

The conversation took a turn as you asked Donnie about what he was working on. He went in a deep dive explanation for you, even if you could only understand a quarter of what he said, you still listened. Nodding and asking questions when you were completely confused. “It’s still in beta though, I’ve got a lot of work to do,” Donnie said as he looked back down at the blueprints. “Well I should probably be heading back up anyways,” you said as you stretched up from the swivel chair you had resided in. “Want me to fly you home?” Donnie offered knowing you had quite a walk. “That’s okay,” you had started to say when you heard commotion from across the room.

You turned your face taking in the group of ghosts that suddenly appeared. “So this is our biggest fan?” Galileo said eyeing you up and down and you sputtered, “no no that would be him,” you said pointing a thumb in Donnie’s direction who was staring at you confused waiting for an explanation. “This is Donatello Hamato, he’s one of the greatest minds of our generation, a scientist just like all of you,” and Donnie gasped immediately shooting out of his chair.

His feet tapping the ground excitedly, “Incredible!” Darwin said, no doubt wondering how Donnie came to be. “Darwin just said incredible,” you whispered and Donnie almost squealed. “Okay Donnie, don’t freak out,” he said to himself. “I’ve always had so many questions!” He started and you became a translator. Donnie did have a million and one questions for his idols and they were more than happy to answer. As the hours passed and you started to yawn the ghosts promised if Donatello ever wanted more answers they wouldn’t be far.

“They’re gone,” you said tiredly and Donnie was jumping up and down. “I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT JUST HAPPENED!!!” He said stopping the voice recording that he just happened to have running the entire conversation. “Just in case! Wouldn’t want to forget any precious answers,” he said holding the recorder close to his plastron as if it was the most valuable thing he ever owned. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep for a week!” He fist pumped the air and while you were happy for Donnie, you were about to fall asleep. Right then and there, the hours of scientific talk had been too complex for you to really understand.

“Thanks Y/n, that was-“ he finally looked over at you to see your head down on his work table. You were fast asleep and he smiled endearingly. He knew you had wanted to head home hours earlier so he really did appreciate you staying. He quietly picked you up, holding you to his plastron just like how he had with the recorder, taking you out of his lab to his room. Everyone else was fast asleep or at least in their own respective rooms. Donnie gently placed you on his bed, and pulled the covers over you, “Goodnight,” Donnie whispered, he on the other hand headed back to his lab. Too excited to do anything other than conduct more experiments with the new knowledge provided by none other than his great scientist idols!

Mikey

“Say what??” Mikey said wrapping the blanket that was around him tighter. “Don’t worry Mikey I won’t tell you anymore than that, I just know I probably look a little ditzy when I stare off,” you said quickly knowing he was afraid of ghoulish things. You had decided Mikey was a really good friend and keeping secret from him was hard enough. He was the sweetest, well he did have that Dr. Delicate Touch to him, but still the sweetest!

So you had decided to tell him about your strange ability. He often caught you staring off and not realizing you were being talked to until someone snagged your attention back. But now that you had told him you could not only see ghosts but also hear them, he was now looking around his room with a scared expression. “Mike, nothing’s in here!” You lied, feeling absolutely horrible that he was now scared! “Really?” He sighed in relief and you nodded quickly.

“Plus they don’t look like scary ghosts, they’re actually mostly harmless animals, like cats and dogs!” You said continuing to spew out white lies. “Wowwwww, that sounds cool!!” He said as his grip on the blanket loosened. “Yeah,” you smiled, happy he wasn’t worrying as much. Even though you had counted about twenty ghosts floating around in front of the tv that you and Mikey were currently watching. Seriously ghosts were like moths drawn to a flame when the television played. They especially liked Mikey’s choice of movie. Though you decided to keep that to yourself.

While it looked like you were watching the movie, you were actually watching ghosts argue back and forth with whose turn it was to get front row seats. The all argued like a bunch of annoying kids even though they were probably hundreds of years old. “Y/n?” You blinked and turned to the orange clad turtle. “Are there any ghosts now?” He whispered, and you wondered he was trying to act brave. You scanned the room, eyes roaming over all the ghosts acting as if they weren’t really there. A couple of snickers and grumbles were met with your stare. “Nope!” You said again and Mikey narrowed his eyes.

“What?!” You said feeling sheepish, were you that much of a bad liar?! “I can handle it,” Mikey said and you sighed. This boy was definitely going to run for his room. “Angelo, are you sure you want to know?” And he nodded. “Okay… there’s about 30 ghosts in here now,” you said calmly. And you watched as Mikey blinked and looked around the empty living room. “Do they look like Hamato’s?” He asked curiously and you glanced back at everyone for a moment. “A couple wear the family crest, yes,” you noted, you hadn’t really thought about that before. But every time you saw Splinter he was always being followed by many ghosts unbeknownst to him.

“Well then they’re family!” Mikey said getting comfortable and snuggling up under his blanket. Wow, no running for the hills?! “Why were you so concerned earlier then?” You asked unable to stop yourself. “Well a bunch of stranger ghosts haunting the lair is pretty creepy but it’s totally cool if they are family,” he said as if that rationalized it all. “Righttt,” you agreed, shaking your head with a smile. “Are they enjoying the movie?” He suddenly asked and your smile brightened as all the ghosts turned and said their praise about his movie choice. “Yes, they all really like your taste in movies,” you told him and he gushed. “Aweeee you guys!” He said looking around the room and you couldn’t help but giggle. Knowing he was looking at nothing in his eyes but truly it looked like he could see them too!

“They particularly hate Leo’s movie nights,” you sputtered, laughing out loud. Mikey snickered too. “I’ll have to tell him,” he said happy to have won out over his blue brother. “I’m sure he’ll never live it down,”

Later in the kitchen you sat on one of the counters watching as Mikey decorated the cookies he had just finished cooking. “Looks delicious!” You said eyeing them all hungrily. “What does the fam think?” Mikey asked and you turned your face, “well uhm, they can’t really eat they stopped getting hungry a long time ago, but they appreciate your artistic talents,” you explained after a bunch of answers were thrown in your face. Soon Mikey was always asking for ghostly validation to which you readily answered, becoming a translator of sorts. If Mikey wanted to know what his great great great great great ghost grandparents thought of him, then sure, you’d tell him all the wonderful things they said. Because he deserved to know, he deserved all the love and praise!!

#tmnt fandom #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #turtle bros #leonardo #raph #donnatello #mikey #michelangelo #rottmnt hc #tmnt hc #hc #spooky season #happy halloweeeeeeen #hamato clan #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt #save rottmnt #tmnt fanfiction #leonardo hamato #raphael hamato #donatello hamato #michelangelo hamato #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt x y/n

[thenightling]

How Morpheus pays his servants

Every so often I come across Sandman fans who joke (or are serious) that Morpheus does not pay his servants, that they are secretly his slaves.  They’ll even all him a hypocrite when he tells Hob Gadling that it’s a poor thing to hold another in bondage. Let me state, Morpheus IS against slavery.  In The Sandman: Season of Mists Titania ”gave” Morpheus Nuala as a gift as a bit of a trap.  She knew Morpheus fairly well. She must have known he he feels about slavery.  If Morpheus refused the gift the fae could “take offense” and go to war, an excuse to try to take the key to Hell from Morpheus.  And if he did keep her, it rids Titania of a potential annoyance.  In some fae lore Nuala was the name of a fae Oberon had interest in. When Morpheus is given Nuala he is reluctant to accept. Finally he allows her to stay.  He never gives her any commands but he removes her glamour.  Though it was initially against her will, Morpheus’s removal of the glamour actually did Nuala a favor. Nuala’s people are very conformist and they all wear glamours, hiding their true forms to look ‘as beautiful as possible.”  What Morpheus did was teach Nuala to appreciate who she is without conforming to what her society had demanded of her for her whole life. It can be seen as a trans metaphor, especially when, later in the story Nuala shows in the fae court without her glamour on and it nearly causes a scandal but she decides she prefers her true self rather than what her society wants of her. Morpheus never gave Nuala any orders. She went about cleaning within the castle to give herself something to do.  But despite this Morpheus repaid her service with a boon.  A boon being any favor (within reason) that she might want, should she call upon him.  Not only that, but as a bonus, Morpheus rescued her brother from imprisonment while Nuala was still working for him.  Morpheus makes it very clear he saved Cluracaun for Nuala’s sake. Though he does not use money, Morpheus DOES pay his servants in Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman.

Here are some examples as to how Morpheus pays his servants.   Cain and Abel = Morpheus gave them each a magical haunted house that is bigger on the inside and full of stories, ghosts, and monsters, to fit their spooky inclinations and desires.  The houses are somewhat sentient too and they gain caretakers to look after them, make repairs, and keep things up and running. It’s a win for everyone involved.

In the Netflix Sandman series both gargoyles, Gregory and Goldie, were actually given as gifts to Cain and Abel instead of Goldie being a gift to Abel from Cain like he was in the comics.     

Lucien / Lucienne is revealed in the comics to have been the first raven. In the story called The Hunt we see that Lucien can still take raven form at will. Lucien loves books. So how was Lucien paid?  Lucien was given a new elfish form (taller even than Morpheus) and the largest library in the multiverse.  And status as second in command in The Dreaming.  That’s a pretty nice payment for services rendered. Aristeas the Raven is based on an actual myth where he was the raven of apollo. Aristeas was a real Greek poet who supposedly became a raven after his death to serve the God Apollo.  This ties into the running gag in The Sandman of people mistaking Morpheus as Apollo.  After two hundred years of service Aristeas decided he didn’t want to serve Morpheus anymore and he was offered a boon.  He chose becoming a mortal man again but he soon found that he could not adjust to the mortal world after having been away from it for two centuries so he asked to return to being a raven.   It’s unclear where he is now. John Constantine / Johanna Constantine was paid by having their nightmares dealt with.  There’s also the possibility that Morpheus may have rescued Constantine’s soul from self-made damnation since Jon Constantine tends to believe he’s going to Hell and has made some bad decisions / bargains as a result.  In a Hellblazer comic it’s pretty much confirmed that Jack Constantine, Johanna (eighteenth century version) and John Constantine were all the same soul just reincarnated into the same bloodline. For John Constantine Morpheus also helped Rachel to die peacefully in a pleasant dream since there was no saving her (in the comic it was implied she was actually already dead and rotting. The sand was the only thing keeping her semi-alive / her soul tethered to her body.)      His usual method of payment though is a boon.  So I think I’ve made my point here. Yes, Morpheus does pay those who serve him and he never forces anyone to do anything against their will (unless you count him telling The Corinthian not to kill people...)

#Morpheus #The Sandman #Sandman

[fluttersharpi]

Fluttober Finale!!

The other songs of Fluttober have been a bit darker in tone, to fit the spooky month..but I figured the proper Fluttershy way to end the month, would be a very optimistic song!

"We didn't have seasons up in Cloudsdale, so finding myself lost in a mysterious new place that was constantly warping around me was… quite frightening as a young filly. All of the changes in scenery, weather, colors, it all seemed to happen so fast... I used to sing this song to myself ease anxieties and help process the new world I was in.. as I grew up these things got easier, and now I sing the song to comfort all my little animals who may be frightened like I was… New things are often scary, but change can be a lovely thing." -Fluttershy

Thank you all so much for the support throughout Fluttober!! I'm really proud of everything I've put out this month...Got a few more tricks up my sleeve for the remainder of this year so, as always...stay tuned!!! x3

Click here to listen!!

#fluttersharpi #mlp #mlp fim #fluttershy #my little pony #mlp art #pony #my art #music #mlp music #pony music #fan music #original music #kandie art

[coraniaid]

The thing I find frustrating about Dead Man’s Party is that it’s almost a very good episode.  In fact for the first thirty or so minutes I’d argue that it actually is a very good episode.

As with Anne, there’s been a definite jump in production standards compared to the first two seasons.  Things look really good this season.  And there are lots of nice individual moments to this episode, most of them involving Giles.  That minute when he’s alone in the kitchen, where you can see how relieved he is to have Buffy back, before he visibly makes an effort to compose himself again.  Hotwiring his own car to escape a zombie outbreak.  “Do you like my mask?  Isn’t it pretty?  It raises the dead.  Americans!”  Threatening Snyder at the end to make him accept Buffy back in school. (Principal Snyder’s great in this episode too, actually.)  

And – although I’m pretty sure this is the last we’ll ever hear of it – learning that one of Willow’s first forays into magic over the summer involved an unsuccessful attempt to “communicate with the spirit world” does fit in nicely with the popular fandom take that Willow got into magic, in part, because of how much she missed Jenny Calendar. I mean, who exactly in the spirit world are we meant to assume Willow was trying to contact, anyway? And I like the spooky dream sequence with Buffy wandering a deserted high school. I like the little ominous dropped hints about the Mayor.

Plus, as a big fan of accidental foreshadowing, I think it’s neat that only a few seconds after trying to tell Buffy how important magic is to her now Willow cheerfully says [admittedly about something else entirely] that “it’s like a drug!”.  I even enjoy the monster of the week plot – as metaphors go it’s not subtle, but thirty-six episodes into the series we probably shouldn’t be expecting subtle.  Why would the writers start now?

But then there’s the last fifteen minutes.  Or, really, just two pivotal scenes in those last fifteen minutes.  This is the part that I’d struggle to argue is very good.  Or even to argue isn’t very bad.  And unfortunately I think the whole episode stands or falls on the strength (or otherwise) of these scenes.  They’re the foundation on which the whole episode rests.  And they don’t work for me at all.

Now, granted, it definitely makes sense that things between Buffy and her friends and family would be strained after she gets back.  She’s been gone for months, she never wrote or called any of them, and we saw just last episode how much they all missed her.   Having things be tense and weird and uncomfortable was absolutely the right choice for this episode.  That’s part of why the first thirty minutes work in the first place.

The problem, I think, is that there’s a disconnect between the arguments and events the episode shows us happening and the conclusions it seems to want us to come to.  Yes, it makes sense that things are weird and uncomfortable, but the episode comes down very heavily in favor of the idea that Buffy was somehow uniquely in the wrong for running away from town last season and needs to tell everyone how sorry she is, even though what it actually shows us is a Buffy who is desperately trying to get back in touch with her friends after the worst few months of her life while they make no effort to reciprocate, deliberately make plans to avoid talking to her, gossip about her behind her behind her back, and … well, be Xander. 

(I still do think Buffy and Xander’s friendship over the course of the show is really well done and really important, but on the basis of this episode alone I don’t understand why Buffy even lets him speak to her.  Why exactly is he being written as her disappointed step-dad in this episode?)

Granted, Buffy is not entirely blameless here.  At the start of the episode, she’s the one to shut down the others’ first efforts to talk about where she’s been for the past three months (although, equally, they’re all very quick to give up on those efforts once they’ve been rebuffed).  And she does keep telling people they “wouldn’t understand” what she’s been through while clearly expecting them to do exactly that.  And you can see why Willow and Joyce would be upset by finding Buffy in her room packing to leave again; it’s a good bit of characterisation that they’re both united in being glad she’s back while struggling with how to show it and secretly terrified she’s not going to stay. 

But I don’t think it’s possible to watch the big argument just before the zombies break in and think that Buffy herself is the only one who is in the wrong here and that she’s the one who needs to apologize, or that Willow is the one “being a grown-up” and  demonstrating “moral superiority”. And yet that seems to be exactly the position that the final scene of the episode tells us we’re meant to accept: Buffy did something wrong, we’re told, and Willow is within her rights as the wronged party to tease her about it a bit, so Buffy has to sit there and “take her lumps”.

Even though I don’t believe this was the case, it almost feels like these two scenes were written by two different people: that the big argument in the party was written by one person, perhaps assuming that it was going to turn out that Buffy’s friends were being influenced by the mysterious evil mask and so didn’t really have to stay completely in character for this scene, and that the closing scene was written by somebody who only heard the vaguest outline of what happened earlier in the episode but has been assured that Buffy needed to apologize about it.

Neither of the scenes really works in isolation, but taken together they are almost incoherent.  And as I said at the start, what’s infuriating is that this was so close to being a very good episode.  I think the problems with both these scenes are really easy to fix!  

This is the time Buffy should have brought up Xander’s Lie – instead of just standing there when Xander smugly tells her that “most girls don’t hop on a Greyhound over boy troubles”, have her point out that she had to kill her boyfriend, and that Xander (and, as far as Buffy knows, Willow too!) were cheering her on to do it the whole time.  As it is, the whole episode passes by without anyone talking about Angel’s fate at all, which is just really odd.  They don’t even ask if he’s alive! For all they know, he got his soul back and he’s going to show up at the party they’re planning!

And while you’re rewriting this scene, you should make the fight as a whole a little bit less one-sided! Maybe have Buffy say some things she should actually apologize for (beyond snapping at Cordelia a little bit).  Let her be mean!  We’ve seen this side of her before, after all.  Let her be angry!  And let the rest of the group argue amongst themselves a bit more, rather than just having everyone team up against Buffy (no, Cordelia’s attempt to put herself into Buffy’s shoes hardly counts).  Have Willow be horrified to learn that Xander didn’t pass on her message back in Becoming.  Have Xander be appalled to find out that Joyce told Buffy not to come back.  (Are we really meant to think that Xander, whose own family has already implied to be less than stellar if not explicitly abusive, would just be okay with that?)  Make Cordelia’s defense of Buffy a little bit less hollow and insulting.  Give Oz something substantial to do!  (Spoiler warning: the writers will never give Oz anything substantial to do.)  Have Buffy’s return cause long-standing tension in the group to boil over more generally, rather than just having everyone treat Buffy awfully in her own home and then be indignant that she’s not thrilled to be back.

And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with Buffy apologizing for not being around for Willow over the summer at the end of the episode.  I think she pretty much has to, actually.  And I do think that Willow’s “I didn’t have anyone to talk to [..] and you were my best friend” moment is well done, although again it’s slightly incongruous that Willow thinks her own “serious dating” problems are as important as the fact that Buffy had to send her boyfriend to hell.  But the stuff about Willow enjoying being a grown-up and reveling in her “moral superiority?”?  Nothing we see in the episode supports this at all!  Willow was being at least as childish as Buffy.  Cut that line out and just have Willow apologize too!  Let her acknowledge that standing Buffy up earlier wasn’t great, and that the surprise hootenanny might not have been a good idea!  Have her commiserate with her friend about losing Angel, maybe even have her apologize for the fact her spell didn’t work (because you probably want to set up the reveal next episode that it did).  Then, if you want to, you can go into the trading mock-insults bit (although, honestly, some of them … don’t seem to make any sense?  Why is Buffy calling Willow a tramp, exactly? How does that follow from the previous conversation at all?)

Couple more thoughts:

As much as I don’t think the big argument scene itself works, I love the fact that kids start slipping out of the door as soon as Buffy tells her mother that “you found out who I really was and you couldn’t deal.”  I hope at least some of them survived the zombies waiting right outside.

Early in the episode, Joyce calls Buffy “a superhero” then nervously asks “is that the right term?  It’s not offensive, is it?”  Back in Becoming, she questioned if Buffy had “tried not being a slayer” and wondered if the problem was that Buffy “didn’t have a strong father figure”.  Next episode she will assure Buffy that she’s tried to march in “the Slayer Pride Parade”.  It’s good to know that, as per the creator of the show, all these various lines mean nothing and have no significance or deeper subtext.

Notwithstanding what I’ve said in the past about the increasingly predictable fates of middle-aged women on this show and despite the fact I really like the idea of Joyce having any friends, Pat is genuinely a horrible person and it’s really hard not to be glad that she dies.  Personally, I think Buffy should’ve gotten to hit her with a shovel even before the whole demonic possession thing happened.

I liked the zombie cat.

#btvs #buffy rewatch 2023