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darkdevasofdestruction · 1 year

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My Innocent Snowdrop ~ Oberyn Martell x Stark!Reader

Summary: The eldest Stark girl is forced to marry Oberyn Martell as a political alliance made by Cersei, but what she does not know is that the Prince of Dorne is a very loving man who easily falls in love with her and cherishes her deeply.

The wolves never strayed away from the North - Y/N told herself, staring up at the head of her father, rotting on that wretched pike. He should have rejected the spot as the Hand of the King - Look where it got him and all the men that came with them. Septa Mordane’s head was also there, staring up at the Sun... And poor Jayne Poole, being imprisoned and... Lord knows what is being done to her.

Lady was dead, Nymeria and Meria, Y/N’s direwolf, were long since away from their premises. All the Stark wolves were very much dispersed all over Westeros, with Sansa and Y/N the only unfortunate souls licking each other’s wounds in King’s Landing.

Y/N would think hard, if there was any good memory she had of this forsaken place. Perhaps the time that she saw Arya being taught how to ‘dance’ by the master. The castle, the courtyard... Maybe everything except for the flower gardens was completely awful - Just like the stench of Flea’s Bottom. A good memory would be when she cheered for Sandor Clegane during the journey for Prince Joffrey’s name day... While he was still Prince, at least. He was such a good man, despite that rough exterior he puts out - Though Sansa was afraid to even look at him, Y/N always felt safe around him. Ironically, the same could be said about Tyrion, the Lannister dwarf with that silver tongue and cheek to match him. She could could count on her fingers the amount of times he had saved her and Sansa from danger - And she wouldn’t have enough hands.

She missed the North so much. That harsh cold was soothing, and the whipping wind was a caress. She wanted to hear the lullaby of the forest and the beauty of the fauna and flora around. She wanted to feel the fluffy snow under her feet again, and see her North lights with her old friend, the bastard of Dreadfort. She was glad that her parents had no idea she would meet up with Ramsay Snow every fortnight, in the Wolf’s Woods - He might have been the craziest psychopath, she thought, but she hadn’t felt more alive than when they were running with their canine companions through the frozen forests.

“Alys, do you think we will ever see home again?” Alys Manderly was Y/N’s best friend since early childhood, they have been inseparable, just like Sansa and Jeyne. They were closer than sisters - She would call them soul-sisters, or something. She remembers Theon one time telling them to marry twins, so they would never be torn apart. For a while, they actually pondered that idea. “I hope so, Y/N. I hope so.” the dark haired girl hugged her friend dearly.

But perhaps there was room for celebration - King Joffrey’s name day approached again, and a another tourney would take place. Though Y/N encouraged Sandor to participate, he merely barked at her - One win was enough for the old dog.

This time, the festivity was even greater than before. There were many houses that wouldn’t join anymore, being at war with either Stannis or Renly - But at the same time, there were a few houses from down South that were going to arrive in grand maniere. Royal, noble houses from Dorne.

“Y/N, you are so beautiful!” Alys complimented her friend, who looked down bashfully and shook her head. “Please do not jest so. You are far more beautiful.” Y/N went to fix her friend’s hair, before they went to the the stands. Sansa was to stay next to Joffrey and the other Lannisters, unfortunately for her, but the two friends were glued to the rails of the stands. They saw many a great knights - Until Alys gasped, and blushed powerfully. “Y/N, look - That is the Prince of Dorne! Isn’t he so beautiful?!” Alys’s voice was chirped with glee - And the Prince proudly strutted by them - And then he stopped, right in front of them, with a beautiful deep pink rose into his hand, and grinning charmingly as every lady was cheering and chanting his name. Y/N didn’t dare, but Alys was almost bent over the railing, wanting to get closer to the man. “A beautiful flower for a beautiful lady.” the man said, and though Alys melted, his arm went directly past her, and in front of the Stark girl, whose eyes were wide. Her hands trembled, unable to reach out for the flower - And the man approached her, ripping the stem and putting the flower in her hair. “Much better.” his smile was so gentle and sweet, Y/N thought she would die on the spot. Instead, she reached out to the ribbon in her hair and tied it around his palm. “I pray that you will win, My Lord.” the Prince’s smile widened, and Y/N could swear that he, in that golden outfit of his, was radiating brighter than the morning Sun. “For you, I will. sweet rose.” with a wink, the Lord trotted away to end the grand finale of the tournament. “You’re SO lucky, Y/N! Prince Oberyn himself chose you!” Alys shook Y/N’s whole body, and the girl couldn’t help but let out a weak, amused exhale. “Calm yourself, Alys. It is just a flower, nothing more. He will not even remember that I exist.” the girl smiled gently at her friend, reassuring her - But she had missed the envious look in her eyes.

Just as he had promised, the Red Viper of Dorne had won the tourney - And for the remainder of the day, the Dornish retinue drank and cheered and sang songs - And many more other things that were only for adults to speak of. Y/n smiled, watching Oberyn kissing the woman she found out was named Ellaria Sand, the Prince’s paramour. She was a tall and slender lady, with sun-kissed skin, black hair like ebony, and dark, warm, kind eyes. They seemed to be very happy - And so was Y/N. A happy couple always made Y/N happy as well - It meant that there was still hope for people out there, even if she, herself, couldn’t see it.

Alys was more of a party person, whilst Y/N wanted nothing more than to run away and hide in her room, now that she knew Sansa was safe in her room, and people were actually enjoying the feast - But Alys was insistent, and she dragged her friend forcefully to the Dornish table, pushing away some of the drunker men so that her and her friend could sit down and pretend they belong there.

Lady Ellaria gave them a weird look, while the Prince seemed to be smirking in amusement - Not only for the evident desperation of the Manderly girl, but the way the Stark girl was hiding her face with her hands. “Alys - That was rude!” Y/N whisper-yelled at her friend, who outright stared at the Prince with starry eyes. “Let us return to our chambers, Alys - It is far too late for us to be out.” but Y/N’s pleas were in vain. “It is not every day that you get to meet a Prince, Y/N! Lighten up, it’s a party!” the comment made not only Y/N, but the two lovers look at her perplex. “You... Do realise that... You are in King’s Landing. And you have met two Kings, a Queen, a prince and a princess... Right? And you see them every day.” the timid lady pointed out, shocked about her friend’s absolute moment of dumbness. “Well - Yes, I know - But none of them are so exotically beautiful, are they? The Prince’s skin is sun-kissed, and that smile was painted by the Gods.” hearing these affirmations made Y/N’s head spin in vertigo. Her eyes were cast down in shame, and her cheeks were pinker than the flower in her hair. “What an interesting pair we have before us, my love. An innocent and timid little snowdrop, accompanied by a bold and fierce rose. How intriguing.” the Prince was now focused on the two new-comers, though his arms were still snaked around his lover’s waist. “We are undeserving of such compliments, Your Grace.” Y/N spoke softly - Oberyn was so used to all the strong-willed and strong women of Dorne, that he completely forgot that shy little fawns like her existed. Shy, and very much traumatised, by the looks of it. His heart was almost swelling with dear, just looking at the girl. “Don’t be rude, Y/N - The Prince is giving us compliments, you have to accept them.” Alys grunted at her friend, before turning at the Martell Prince, batting her eyelashes dearly. “I, uh... I just think that Her Grace is far more beautiful than I am.” her voice was like that of a little mouse - It amused the woman, but also, made her feel protective of her. “Ellaria Sand is my name, little one. I am no noble, just a bastard of Dorne.” the woman smiled kindly at her. “Noble or not, it does not take away from your beauty.” Y/N retorted quickly - Ellaria and Oberyn shared a look, before looking back at them with mischievous smirks. “What are your names, sweet flowers?” the woman asked them. “I am Alys Manderly - And this is Y/N Stark. It is a pleasure meeting you.” though Alys looked at the Prince with lust in her eyes, but she did not once look at Ellaria. “Beautiful names, just like the ladies having them.” Oberyn nodded. “Then, would the ladies wish to share our chambers tonight?” Y/N almost fell backwards off the bench from complete shock and fright. “A-Ah, n-n-no... W-We, uh... W-We were just, uhhh, retiring for the night! Yes -- G-Goodnight, Your Grace. My Lady.” Y/N shot up to her feet as if electrified, and though she jumped to the other side of the bench, her wrist was caught by Alys, and she was roughly pulled back on the seat. “Don’t be such a bore, Y/N! Let’s have some fun~! Lord knows, we need some distraction after everything the Crown put us through!” Alys’s mouth got slapped by the Stark girl, as she was given a warning look. Y/N was looking around for unexpected onlookers and eavesdroppers, like a skittery bunny during a hunt. “Watch your mouth, Alys. You do not know who is listening in. If you are not careful, your head will end up on a spike, next to my father’s.” Y/N had seen enough for a life time. The last thing she needed was to see her best friend being killed. There was only so many family members she could see dead, before she’d lose her mind. “Come on, Y/N, loosen up a bit!” but Y/N snatched her hand away, and rose to her feet, looking down at her friend with a simple look. “I will be seeing you tomorrow at breakfast, Alys. Sweet dreams.” Y/N spoke curtly. “May you have sweet dreams also, Prince Oberyn. Lady Ellaria.” with a quick courtesy, the terrified beauty went rushing back to the castle and hid herself in the safety of her own room.

Although, safety was a great word - Only she knew the amount of times she had escaped assassination attempts. She hated sleeping alone - Anything could happen at night, when you are sleeping - Alas, she could not share a bed with anyone, even her own sister. The rules of King’s Landing were unnecessarily strict and harsh. She wanted home already.

The next morning was unusually quiet and relaxing. The weather was fine, the Sun was warm and the breeze just right. Somehow, during this beautiful morning, even the royal stench wasn’t as awful on the senses as usual. Y/N decided to have a plate of fruit tarts and find her peace in the flower garden, alone from everyone else. It was her hiding place - A little silly, she knew, but sitting down on the soft green grass and gazing at the myriad of colourful flowers was the only thing that made Y/N smile.

“My Lady has such a beautiful smile. You put the flowers around to shame.” Y/N found herself squeaking in shock - She had been found! What a shame. She had attempted to raise to her feet and made a little courtesy, but the Prince’s hand on her shoulder stopped her - Instead, he had opted for sitting on the ground next to her, and with a leisure smile, he snatched the tart plateau and popped a small strawberry tart into his mouth. “Not bad for something done in this place.” he tilted his head to the side comically. “Your Grace --” the girl began to speak to him, but was cut off by the man, saying his name instead. “I-I dare not.” “I insist, My Lady.” his brown eyes were so warm and welcoming, like a loving embrace. “I dare not address the Prince so colloquially.” she spoke. “I am just a girl from the North.” “Your father was the Warden of the North. Your brother is the King in the North. You cannot tell me you are ‘just’ a girl.” he watched her shamefully hanging her head. “I have no achievement of significance of mine own. My sister Sansa is the beautiful one. She can embroider and seam like no other, and she sings the prettiest songs. My other sister, Arya, is a fantastic archer, and she learnt how to swordfight from a braavosi water dancer. Mother is the beauty of the Riverlands. Robb is the King in the North. Bran is... Well, was...The most capable climber... Before he got crippled... By the bad men... And Rickon is just a babe of three.” she spoke softly, yet the love and pride in her voice when addressing her family was evident. “And there, here I am. Y/N, the firstborn child of Eddard Stark and Catelyn Tully. The family’s disappointment - Though they would never admit to it.” she let out a self-deprecating exhale. “Your Grace is kind, but there is no need to waste your precious time with the likes of me.” “I beg to differ, young lady.” Oberyn frowned for a second. “There are not many who can catch my eyes, yet you certainly did. You are underplaying your self - I wonder why. Gorgeous - You are, beyond words. And your voice is sweet as a nightingale. I’d say you are just overly modest. Is it how they teach you in this place?” he ask, reaching his hand to her hair and absent-mindedly playing with a strand of her long, luscious red hair that shone auburn like the red rose of love and passion. “I have long since heard that the people of Dorne are the happiest. That they are free, and life-loving, and very confident. I can only guess this may come as a huge surprise for you. Although... You have also seen my sister-friend Alys, and she is the complete opposite of me.” the man hummed, hearing of the other girl’s name. “Ah, yes, that one. Rather impolite and a little arrogant, after you left. The Dornish may be lax and permissive, but we still do take into high regards our courtesies.” he seemed completely unbothered, but the girl’s heart froze. “O-Oh, my -- Please forgive her , Your Grace. She has been through a lot since we have come to this place... She - She thought she could find some comfort in the arms of a temporary lover. She meant no harm or disrespect.” although Y/N apologised profusely in the girl’s stead, only to see the Prince wave his hand dismissively, as if it was nothing. “You are far too naive and innocent for your age, little one. And the look in those beautiful eyes of yours makes me realise that you are already aware of that.” his finger reached underneath his chin, raising it up just a little bit. “Forgive my language, Your Grace, but I think the right word you are searching for is much harsher and down to earth. I am an outright simple idiot.” her delicate hand was placed over his, so she could move his hand away from her face. “That will not do.” he shook his head. “I found it rather amusing that you hate this place, and its people, almost as much as I do.” his smile was perked up again, especially amused once he saw the terrified look in her place. “Fret not, sweetling - All of Dorne feels the same. I have no reason to speak out your feelings in your stead. I respect you and your boundaries - Forgive me for teasing you. I find great pleasure watching your face turn the colour of your hair.” the girl could say nothing more, but she hung her head in defeat, hoping to hide her bashfulness with her long locks. “I am undeserving of your compliments, Your Grace - Though, I am grateful for your discretion.” her sweet voice made the man want to snatch her into his arms and plant kisses all over that snow-white skin of hers. People of the North truly were so pale - Almost sickly pale. Would she end up sun-burnt often, should she end up travelling in Dorne one day? That supple neck looked and her uncovered cleavage were so inviting - How was he to resist? The birds have started to chirp a pretty song, and Y/N found herself caring naught for her worries, and she closed her eyes and inched her face up to the sky, bathing in the caressing love of late Spring. “Does this bring you joy?” the man asked, and he saw her head nodding lightly. “It is one of the very few things that I can still appreciate without being punished for. It is not much, but these few moments of bliss are enough to make me forget for a while of the woes of life spent in the capital.” she sounded more at peace now, as if she wasn’t as guarded around him. Surely, the mutual hatred of this place and the Crown must have made her feel at ease. With a soft smile, Oberyn put his hands on her shoulders, and pushed her down on the grass. “How about now?” he asked, gesturing for her to close your eyes. “I... Feel a bit... Uneasy.” she admitted, embarrassed. “Are you afraid?” she let out a small, affirmative answer. “I will protect you, so fear not.” though a bit skeptical, Y/N closed her eyes again, and rested the back of her head on her palms, and she took a deep breath. For once, she forced herself to keep a clean, empty mind, and to relax. If the Prince of Dorne said he would stay on lookout, he would. Though, perhaps that was a weird way of saying that he protected her. Oberyn was laying on his side, next to her, and he was gazing at the beautiful lady as he stroked her velvety hair. Apart from her mother, she had never, once, felt anyone taking care of her so dearly. She loved this feeling so much that she was afraid she would get used to it, and by the time the man leaves for back home, she will feel all alone. She couldn’t afford to get complacent.

The Prince, however, thought of last night - He wanted to tell her that he did not believe Alys was a good influence on her, but why would she believe a complete stranger, over her sister-friend? Would she believe the suspicions of a seasoned man, over the pleading eyes of her faux friend? Ellaria, too, was reticent, when she looked at the Manderly girl - She could smell the venom dripping from her tongue - The complete anti thesis from the innocent girl who seemed to fight so hard to remain good to the word. Was it to keep hope for her friend? Or was it that she wanted to believe humanity was not yet lost to her?

The party from Dorne had remained guest to King’s Landing for the whole week - Time in which Oberyn tried to get closer to the sweet dove, but could not, because she was always taken away by some one. Though irritating, it was to be expected. What a pity.

Or so he thought - For the Lannister Lioness herself came up with rather the interesting proposal - Claim an even more solidified alliance, through the knot of marriage between the Prince of Dorne and the firstborn daughter of the greatest House of the North. The Seven Kingdoms had to be kept tightly knit together, after all. Were it anyone else, Oberyn would have laughed in Cersei’s face, thinking she sent some lackey of hers to spy on him. Even if Y/N was forced to be a spy, he knew he could persuade her not to be afraid of the Queen Regent and her fearsome claws. For so many years, he had been opposed to marrying - He was very fine with his loving paramour and his children. He needn’t anything else. And even better, he needn’t have the wedding in this stinking city, for he could have it at his own, glorious home, in Sunspear. It was perfect. The Queen had no idea how stupid she was. Or perhaps she wanted to get rid of the elder Stark sister, and claim monopole over the younger one in her entirety? Possible, as well. Only Lions knew how many lions they could tell, in a single minute.

Once Y/N heard the knew of her leaving with the retinue all the way down South, she felt faint - It was hard enough to get used to the climate and people of the Reach, let alone the deserts and scorching heat of Dorne? And the... Very friendly people as well. She had the tiniest glimpse of that whenever Oberyn passed by her, and would reach out to cup her face or quickly caress a lock of her hair. But Y/N was lucky she had not seen the dark look in Alys’s eyes - The Prince had seen it, and he did not like it. It would be fine though - She will be leagues away from Y/N, so there was no way of bringing her harm, or to his family by being a Lannister lackey.

Y/N felt absolutely terrified of Ellaria for a quick second - She felt like an intruder in their loving relationship. Like a homewrecker. She felt like she outright destroyed the peace and harmony of the whole country of Dorne. Or perhaps, she was simply fatalistic by nature - She wasn’t yet sure. But Ellaria was the sweetest woman in the world, and she hugged her dearly to her chest and kissed the top of her head. “Sweet little flower, worrying so much over nothing. It should be yourself you should be worrying about. Being traded off like an object of political means. You needn’t apologise to me. I pity you - But fret not. Oberyn is a good man. He will take good care of you. And so will I.” she remembers tearing up and hugging the woman tighter, thanking her over and over again for being so understanding and benevolent.

The wedding was not to be properly planned until a few months to come, under the pretext that the young girl has to get used to her new environment - To truly become part of the family. Simply put, it was Oberyn’s way of keeping the pressure off the girl.

Some of his daughters seemed interesting in the new girl, while some cared little or even less about her existence. Just another woman in his life, they said. How long she would last, it was only a matter of time.

The Prince made sure to keep her at the lust Water Gardens, where the palace was cool, and she could indulge in the warm waters of the numerous pools - Maybe play around with the children of the common folk, if he felt uncomfortable with the adults. The outfits, also, were completely different from what she used to where, even in King’s Landing, where the weather was mild. Now, she was given the most luxurious silks and linens, some more sheer or revealing than the others - She felt far too outrageous to leave her room like that, so she kept with the more modest clothes, that would hide her silhouette better.

Most of the time, however, she would spend her time in her room, doing various activities, be that reading Dornish books, or practicing over and over again strategies for the card game that Oberyn had thought her. She wanted to be a worthy opponent for the man - She had to live up to the expectations of a Prince, after all. Or, at least as close as she can get. Sometimes, she would embroider some of her dresses, and even some of the tunics that the Prince may or may not have intentionally taken over to her room. He had even taught her how to paint, and brought her all kinds of paints and paper, and though it wasn’t perfect, she had a particular fondness and skill in painting the flowers she would see in the gardens.

Once in a while, she would write letters - All addressed to King’s Landing. Of course, out of respect, she had Oberyn read and approve of them. She had written her sweet sister, to make sure she is okay, and she wrote to Sandor, her most unlikely friend, to see how he fared. But the most beautiful envelope was directed to Alys. It was of rose gold colour, and inside, she had pressed various flower petals, and sprayed perfume on the letter - Which was written in cursive ink - But she had not sealed it yet. This one, especially, she would seal with a flower instead, so Alys would know who it was from, without a name being addressed.

The two sister-friends would shower each other in compliments and confessions of how much they missed each other, and would speak about the happenings of the countries they were in, or interesting rumours and gossips - Here and there, a little tricket would also be brought.

“This letter seems particularly tender, compared to the others.” Oberyn hummed, pacing around the room, pondering. “It is her birthday. In fact, it is the first birthday we spend apart. It must be hard for her, all alone in that lion pit. Who knows how Joffrey is torturing her.” she spoke lightly - Though she was still shy around the man, he cherished him deeply. Not once, did he try to pressure her - Instead, he was always gentle with her, and would never raise his voice around her, or speak foul. “Do you love women, Y/N?” he asked in the most casual tone possible. “If yes, I can have any woman of your liking brought over for you.” it only made her cheeks flare up. “N-No, nothing like that!” she denied immediately. “You needn’t be cautious with me, sweetling. Men loving men, women loving women - People loving people - It matters little, as long as the love is genuine. You can tell me. I want to know the preferences of my lovely wife.” he always knew how to make her mind spin around. “No, Oberyn - Really, it is just a letter sent in good faith, on her name’s day. This is how we used to talk, even back in the North. My sister Sansa with her friend Jeyne were the same.” the girl explained, only to stop for a moment, as the man gazed at her as if she was the most innocent thing in the world. “Does it... Sound weird?” “I think it is sweet that you can express your love this way, my dear. I just fear what would happen if any of those stuck-up idiots would get the letter instead, and accuse either of you of... Unspeakable rule breakings, in the name of the Gods... Or something ridiculous like that.” he turned to look back at Ellaria, who was leaning on the door frame. “Will I be the recipient of these sweet words one day, little flower?” “Darling - Don’t tease her like that.” Ellaria sighed, rolling her eyes and snatching the letter from his hand. She scanned it quickly with her eyes, before she let out an exhale once more, and she shook her head. “Oh, sweetling... The world is not yet ready for such a mellow heart.” the look of distraught on her face made her reconsider, however. “Although... If you keep the letter anonymous, they should have no way of tracing it. Have you used different birds like we told you too?” the girl nodded. “Then, I suppose it should be fine. But be careful who you rely on.” the woman couldn’t tell her about her suspicions she had of her so-called best friend. How could she, when Y/N looked most alive, speaking of her dear friend? “Of course! Alys wouldn’t do me any evil. We have grown up together, closer than sisters. We always covered for and took care of each other!” she exclaimed, with new-found vitality in her eyes. “I will have this sent, then. Darling, why don’t you go with Y/N to the pools? It’s evening already, they should be warmest at this hour, and mostly empty.” with a sultry smile, the woman left the chamber, leaving the two alone. The Prince stepped in front of his betrothed, and bent slightly at the waist, extending his hand for her to take. “Will you join me by the pools, sweetling?” he rejoiced in the blush that graced her features, and the delicate feeling of her hand feathering his own. She had remained quiet, feeling bashful enough as it was, walking hand in hand like that with the Prince of Dorne - But thankfully, the guards were nowhere to be seen, and they were as alone as they can be. Private and intimate, and very much away from the eyes of the onlookers.

She listened dearly to the proud and loving way in which he spoke of the Gardens, and their history, who created them and why. The loud and harmonious song of the crickets and the toads, even the rattles of the snakes. It was peaceful. The breeze was warm, and the sky was filled with thousands of colours, ranging from yellow, red, orange and pink, but purple and indigo as well - And many other hues in between. She had never been able to sit back and admire the sky like this in a while - Especially not since she’s been sent to the hell that the Red Keep is. When the day met with the night, and the stars were shyly peeking and twinkling, thought it wasn’t yet as dark as midnight - It was a breath-taking sight.

She was so lost in the sight that she didn’t realise the way the man besides her looked at her. He was gazing at her as if she was his most beloved person in the world. It was true, he held a deep love for Ellaria, and had fathered several children together - But he had never even thought about marrying her. Between the parties and the debauchery, the fun, the many men and women that shared his bed, and the amount of travels he partook in... But now, there she stood, before him, someone so completely different than anyone he’s ever met before. Different from all the treacherous people, the liars, the flatterers, the manipulators and what not.

She was so good of heart and innocent - As if she was living in a completely different world than his own. A world of complete peace and harmony, where people can do no wrong, and everyone is trustworthy and reliable. It only made him even more desperate to keep her safe from the cruel world. He wanted to keep her in this oasis, and keep the mirage of goodness for her to keep believing in. Little by little, she will find herself not only comfortable in her new home, but with them as well. With him, most specially, as he wanted her so badly.

Suddenly, a mischievous smirk played on his lips - He was so enchanted by her, that he couldn’t help himself. He threw his arms around her body and jumped into the warm water of the shallow pools. The little squeak of surprise, as she met with the water surface, made his heart beat faster. He stared down at her adorable expression, at her wet hair and the incredibly attractive way the light material of her dress revealed the shape of her body as it stuck to it so tantalizingly sweet. There was only so much the Prince could refrain himself, after the few weeks since she’s been brought to his country. His hands cupped her cheeks, and he leaned in to kiss those soft and pink flower petals of her lips. The few seconds of surprise in which she felt her body and mind frozen, completely dissipated, and Oberyn could feel her melting into the kiss. For just a moment, he let go to gaze at her awestruck look, before one of his arms snaked around her middle, holding her dearly, whilst his other hand was buried into her hair. He felt like being breathed into him - It was unlike anything he’s ever felt before. Passion and fire from Ellaria especially, but now, his heart was beating alive, and he felt tender and mellow.

At some point, he was even afraid of getting greedy - Not only did he not want to scare his sweet little fawn away, but he also was afraid of how drunk he would get if he went even further, indulging in those lips of hers, and the smell of her flower perfume... That was how she deserved to smell - The stench of King’s Landing was finally washed off for good. He was never going to let her go back to that awful place. He hated it as much as she did. Were it not for the situation of the captive sister, or that devious bitch who calls claims to be her friend, then she wouldn’t have any further worry about that disgusting city.

Now, even more than before, he would come over to her chambers and would bring her new jewellery, all of them shining gold like the Sun, with precious stones of every kind and colours, and he would steal long and tender kisses from her. If he were gifting her a necklace, he would put it around her neck from behind, admiring how it embellished her flawless snow-white cleavage, and would embrace her from behind, leaning down to tickle her with soft neck kisses - She would always giggle from those. If there were rings, he would kneel in front of her and slid them on, before kissing each of her knuckles, the back of her hand, and then he would lean his face into her touch and kiss the inside of her wrist - She would get so bashful that she would get on the ground next to him and hug him tightly to her chest, whispering the sweetest confessions of love and care. And if he were to bring he any kind of hair accessory, be it a flower crown or pearls, a golden gem tiara, or a sheer veil filled with diamonds and zircons that would make her hair shine even more, then he would ask to brush her hair and he would fix the accessory in her hair himself, then tilt her head to kiss her forehead - She would put her hand over his, and cheekily bring his hand for her to kiss.

What he wouldn’t do to keep her away from all the horrors that waited them across the borders...

During the day, the two would play the newest card and dice game that was trending all around the young people - It became a trend, as she called it - And he had to admit, it was a nice game that combined strategy and luck rather beautifully. But better than that, he loved how she would make such adorable expressions when she would lose. He didn’t even imagine there could exist one with such awful luck, but she proved him wrong, times and times again, when out of 10 dices, none of them would depict the element she needed... For multiple rounds... For multiple games.

But he knew just how to make her forget about her lost games, by either going horse riding, or for a walk by the beach - Maybe even a little swim, if they so wished to. At evening, she would sneak by the shore and dance - But it wasn’t just any type of dancing, Oberyn realised - But spear dancing. After he showed off to her multiple times when training, it seemed to have inspired the little flower to practice herself. She was fast and agile, but more than anything, she was so graceful and elegant, with her flowing skirts spinning around her slender form, and her long hair flying with every move. More than anything, however, she was having fun. Never had he seen her grinning so widely and having fun with all her heart. She looked free - As free as a bird, allowed to sing at will and fly at win - Allowed to do anything without anything restricting her in any way. She had some difficulty with the weight of the weapon, but twirling around made it feel less than a feather. And her voice - The way she would hum whatever melody she was thinking of - Some familiar to the Prince, while some, completely foreign - Oberyn felt himself completely relaxing whilst he leaned on a tree and admiring her from afar.

Then, came the night, the most honeyed part of the day. The time when he either spends the most passionate hours in the flames of excitement with Ellaria, and perhaps even other participants - Or he stays in Y/N’s room, with her cuddled into his side as he strokes her hair and he reads her a book. She was sleeping so peacefully in his embrace that he could never bring himself to return to his own chambers. It was always wonderful, waking up to such a lovely woman by his side, especially when she’d snuggle even closer to him while asleep, like a little kitten.

Though she was still very much worried about her family scattered all over the Seven Kingdoms, and the on-going war with the Crown, she at least had found the closest thing to a feeling of peace and belonging, here, in Dorne, soon to be married to Oberyn, and good friend with Ellaria, his paramour. Getting even closer to the man, the two agreed to finally plan the wedding, and everything was as great as it could get. Y/N was happy and felt at home, and Oberyn was glad that his soon to be wife was had finally found a family in him, but also Ellaria, his many daughters, and all the citizens of Sunspear.

But in Westeros there can never be a moment of respiro, and much to his dread and anger, there was a letter he received - It was for Y/N, not for him, but she had long since agreed that he should read any letter she writes or receives, for safety purposes. She hated that she was still far too naive when it came to the harsh political affairs between the more powerful houses, so she was fine with someone who could handle this better to take care of these trivial things.

He had called his paramour to read this as well - He knew the Lannisters were the scum of the earth, but to think they would find something as ridiculous and innocent as Y/N’s friendship with Alys, just to bring them pain and exploit the Stark name... It was cruel, and the Prince was getting very quickly fed up with the lions. He had not forgotten, nor forgiven, the way they treated his dear sister, Elia, and her two children. He sure as hell won’t be lenient now. He needed his sweet revenge... Dorne needed the long awaited vengeance, and somehow, he shall have it. Especially on the perpetrator of all evils... The Mountain.

But how was he to tell Y/N about the contents of this letter, without alarming her, or making her feel guilty? In a way, he wondered if Alys was also a conspirator to this ploy - Surely, she was, he thought. At first, he wanted to just throw the letter in the fire and ignore the matters from the Crown - But Ellaria had reminded him that Y/N’s own sister was helplessly caged in King’s Landing, and they could easily threaten to kill her, just as they did with their father.

That night, he had taken Y/N to bed with him, just like many other nights. Usually, he would be reading her a story, or tell her of some of his weirder adventures from his long travels - Or, on particularly sleepless nights, she would tell him about home and her interactions with her family, and how unique all of them were. This night, especially, as soon as he stepped inside her room, he saw her in one of those sheer, light pink night gowns - It was a pretty warm night, even this late - And she was at the table, painting. She was gracing a serene, happy smile on her face. As soon as she turned her head to look at her visitor, her smile widened even more, and her eyes lit up. “Ryn!” she called out his new nickname breathlessly, throwing the paint brush into the water glass and wiping her coloured hands. “What a coincidence, I was thinking of you!” she had become so much bolder and more honest with her feelings, it was very endearing. “I made this for you! I saw you liked the desert roses the most whenever we’d go through the garden - Thought I’d make something for you to hang on the wall in your room, if you like it.” quickly fanning the painting to dry faster, Oberyn went next to the table, admiring her creation. “I’m surprised, lovely, Y/N, you have become so good at this.” seeing as it had dried, he held up the long paper and admired it. “Just like the real flower - I’ll have someone hang it so I can see it every time I wake up. Thank you, sweet one.” he raised her chin slightly, before kissing her forehead.

He watched as she scurried to clean her hands properly, before taking a book and getting in bed, she motioned for him to come along faster. “I found this book that talks about the culture and history of many countries in Essos - And I have seen many a story about the Rhoynar, and the water mages and witches - I was so fascinated by it, and then I remembered, Nymeria was one of the Rhoynar, and most of the traditions from the Dorne of these days were brought by her and her people. Can you tell me more about it?” how could he ever decline a request from her, especially as she wanted to learn more about his own country? She was just so beautiful and lovely, he could not understand how could anyone wish her ill. “Of course I will, my sweet Snowdrop. Anything you wish for, I will do for you.” he sat on the bed and pulled her into a small kiss. “Before that, I have something to tell you.” he could see the anxiety form into her eyes, so he quickly brought her into an embrace, caressing her hair, reassuring her that she had nothing to fear. “We must leave for King’s Landing in three days.” Y/N looked up at him with confusion, yet he could also see the disgust she held for that place. “But... Why? I thought you said you hated that place.” “O, darling, trust me, I do. If it were after me, I would burn the whole capital to the ground, and all the people in it, beginning with the Lannisters.” he explained, and the girl nodded her head in approval - She would have done the same. “A letter had arrived from King’s Landing today, with the seal of the Crown.” the girl gulped in fright. “They had called for you to attend the trial of Alys Manderly, under the pretexts of adultery, seducing and indulging in... Unethical misconducts with at least a woman.” just like he had feared, the Queen had used their letters to accuse the Stark girl of indirectly going against the laws of the Faith of the Seven. “So... Alys is being sentenced for indulging with women... And their proof are our letters, yes?” the man nodded. “But I was in Dorne, and here it is not illegal. And they cannot prove anything from the time I was in the capital.” “If they want to, they can prove anything, with enough bribing. After all, they are not directly accusing you, but your friend, who is from a far less important family. Not to mention, if she is found guilty, by extension, so will you be, and by those stupid laws of the Church, they have every right to take you away and put you through very harsh conversion punishments, and maybe force you to renounce your family’s name and title and become a Septa, or join the Silent Sisters.” the gravity in the man’s voice made the girl feel as if her soul was sucked out from her body. “What does Cersei get out of this? If she wanted me dead, she could have done so when I was in the capital, not have me marry you, and be far away from her grasp, under your protection. Moreover, she couldn’t have known we would wait so much to legally marry. And if she wanted to threaten me, she has Sansa in her hands. Why go through all this trouble? I do not understand.” she asked, aggravated by all this mess. “The less Starks alive, the better. She did not want Sansa to marry Joffrey, but the King did, and because of that, she can’t change until someone better comes along - And there aren’t many families that can beat yours.” he explained. “Your brother is leading a rebellion, and you are allied with the region that is most likely to go against the Crown for vengeance. You could seduce me into joining your brother’s cause and take over Casterly Rock.” Y/N’s eyes went wide, and was about to protest, but got silenced by a kiss. “I know, I know, you would never do that. Surely, Alys would have told Cersei by now, and I, myself, know you would never even think of attempting something like that.” Y/N frowned and looked down, pondering and thinking deeply, and she sighed in utmost defeat. “I’m so sorry, Ryn. I shouldn’t have involved you in this. I was a stupid, naive little girl who hoped that, if I was away from them, they couldn’t lay their hand on me anymore.” her head was hung, and Oberyn could even see her eyes watering - She must have been feeling very angry and guilty. “I will go to King’s Landing by myself. You have enough on your shoulders anyway.” but the man scoffed and ruffled her hair. “Are you done speaking nonsense?” he asked, giving her a look. “I will not have my wife slandered, nor accused or prosecuted like that, especially not by that accursed family.” though he was serious, it didn’t seem to convince the girl. “I am not yet your wife, Ryn. You do not have to go that far for someone like me. I have only brought you problems since you have met me, and given you reasons for migraines. That is already far more than anyone would do for me... And I do not want to abuse your kindness.” she had tried to raise from the bed, but was pulled back by his strong hand. “You do not get it at all, do you? Or is that you do not want to understand?” he asked, putting Y/N on his lap. “It is you that I love.” Oberyn pulled the girl into a long and passionate kiss. “And I will have no one hurt the one I love.” he kept pulling her closer and closer with each kiss. The fire was suffocating her, but it also made her long for more. “I was unable to save Elia, but I will not allow those fuckers to lay their hand on you, my love.” Y/N was feeling her body and mind melting altogether in his embrace, and she was sure that, soon, she will transform into a puddle and slip between his fingers. “I am no saving Alys. I am saving you.” “Are you sure you want to go through all this troublesomeness, Ryn?” she managed to breath out, her brain almost blank, as his wet lips traced her neck veins. “I would go to the ends of the world for you, my darling. I would reach out and grab the Sun rays, to make you a shining crown, fitting for the Princess of Dorne.” the more his hands were roaming all over her skin, and underneath the sheer material of her night gown, the more she felt her blood scorching from within. “R-Ryn!” she gasped from embarrassment, the same way his compliments always overwhelmed her - In that instant, she felt herself being rolled on her back, and the only things she could see were his gorgeously chiseled visage, his sweet smile painted on those perfect lips of his, and those warm, loving dark eyes, that only ever looked at her with such deep emotion. “Hush, my love. Say no more. You are safe with me, so cease your worrying.”

Three days from then, the Dorne retinue had moved forwards towards the Capital of Westeros. Through the days, Oberyn looked seemingly unbothered, though both Y/N and Ellaria were on the edge, more or less, afraid for what was to come. No one willingly went inside the Lion’s den and thought they would get out unscathed. Still, the Martell Prince had no problem easing his two lovers, and comforting them - Even while inside the awful castle.

They had a good deal of food and wine to drink at the feast, but everyone new, the following morning at court, the Seven Hells would break loose. Y/N had told that night to both Oberyn and Ellaria about the many times she had to be held accountable at court, and how Joffrey had humiliated both her and her sister countless times. Also, she had told them how, despite Jeyne being Sansa’s best friend, she had a different treatment compared to Alys. Oberyn realised that even she suspected something was amiss, but did not stray away from wanting to save her.

This time, however, things were different. It was not inside the Castle’s court that they held the trial, but outside - Was it because of the fine weather? Or because it was far easier to have so many people outside, without too many voices echoing all at once and blending together? Y/N did not know, but she was extremely afraid. The young King was in the middle, on a large throne, and on either side of him were Cersei, and Sandor, Sansa and Tywin, and some other guards. Blasted thing, Y/N thought, Sansa was looking as awful as the day she had left her in this awful place.

“I have an awful feeling about this.” Y/N muttered, only to feel both Oberyn and Ellaria holding her hands. The Dorne envoy was somewhere up there, all on the same stand, watching the trial unfolding, as Maester Pycelle was down, speaking of the sins committed, before Alys was dragged by two guards She looked ragged and tattered, and beaten up and starved. Y/N’s breath was hitched in her throat, and she immediately shot to her feet. Oberyn realised that any suspicion she ever had of Alys was destroyed by the mere visual of her abused childhood friend, and the pity and guilt she felt for putting her through it all, because of some minor indiscretion

“As we all know, we are gathered here to judge the actions of Lady Alys Manderly, and her unethical actions that go directly against the rightful laws dictated to us by the Sept of the Seven, ancient and brought to us so long ago, by the Andals.” Oberyn could see her small hands gripping the railing so tightly, and the way her chest was heaving up and down. “Septa Nadya has discovered letters written by Lady Alys addressed to Lady Y/N Stark, in which she confesses her love for the Lady, under the pretext of being childhood friends. She has abused the kindness of her Lady through the years and continued to endanger her by association. She has committed acts of manipulation and blackmail towards her liege Lady.” Y/N wanted to hit her head against the railing - Everything they were saying was almost word for word what Oberyn had warned her. “Septa Nadya has also caught Lady Y/N Stark sneaking out at night to go sleep at Lady Manderly’s chambers, which is improper behaviour for women of marrying age.” “What a load of bullshit.” Ellaria grimaced. “Girls are girls. Let them gossip the night away, for fuck’s sake.” it was obvious even she was pissed off by the ridiculous accusations. “Your Grace, these are the accusations against Lady Alys Manderly, and by default, Lady Y/N Stark, through association.” The Maester spoke clearly, despite his old age. “So this is a trial for two traitors of the Faith, not just one!” the King rose to his feet. “Lady Stark was in Dorne when these letters were sent. The laws of Dorne are different from the ones here, so she has nothing to do with these accusations.” Tyrion was the first to stand up for the girl. “Thank you, Tyrion.” Y/N muttered under her breath - the Prince rose an interested eyebrow - So the little wolf girl actually had some allies around the Crown, even if that ally was a dwarf Lion. “That does not take away from the sneaking around at night.” the King spat back. “Your Grace, Lady Stark had gone through many assassination attempts while staying here. I had personally escorted her to Lady Manderly’s chambers, so she would not feel afraid alone.” Sandor Clegane also spoke up for her. “O, Sandor, you shouldn’t have.” Y/N gritted her teeth, suddenly afraid for a completely different friend - Whilst the Martell almost huffed in amusement - The Mountain was a ruthless piece of shit who mutilated, raped and abused to death his own sister and her children, but his younger brother was a good hearted loyal dog. How ironic. “That means all accusations against Lady Stark are null?” Cersei was the one to ask, and from the looks of it, Y/N was more or less safe. For now. “Your Grace, what punishment do you find appropriate for Lady Alys Manderly?” the Grand Maester asked. “Any crime against the Faith is a great offense directly against the Crown as well. I say - Flog her to death!” murmurs and gasps were heard throughout the court - What was with that death sentence?! Over something as ridiculous as a girl telling her friend how much she cares for her. “YOUR GRACE, PLEASE -- I BEG OF YOU!! SPARE ME! HAVE MERCY! WE ARE JUST FRIENDS -- WE DID NOT REALISE HOW DIFFERENT THINGS WERE HERE, COMPARED TO BACK HOME, WHEN WE WERE CHILDREN! PLEASE, PLEASE, SPARE ME! SPARE ME!” Alys was on the ground, weeping and imploring the King to at least give a lighter sentence. Oberyn looked up, realising Y/N’s body was trembling, and her grip on the railing was even tighter. A single tear made its way down her face. King’s Landing truly was the city of sorrow. “GUARDS! UNFOLD THE PUNISHMENT HERE, BEFORE EVERYONE’S EYES - LET HER SERVE AS AN EXAMPLE FOR EVERYONE WHO DARES BETRAY THE CROWN AND THE FAITH!” Joffrey was smirking wickedly. Tywin looked seemingly unbothered, though he realised his own grandson was almost as mad as the Mad King himself, and he did not want another situation like that. Cersei, also, was annoyed that her own child was, once again, ruining her scheming by killing the people she was using. Tyrion was disgusted by his nephew’s behaviour, Sansa was too horrified to even watch, remembering Jeyne and seeing her instead of Alys down there... And Sandor... His eyes scanned for the Stark Girl, and upon seeing her, he felt pity. Only he knew how many times he saved her from the assassins and even those stupid guards like Meryn Trant. As the very same guard stepped forward with a large wooden rod, he readied himself before using all his force to strike the girl’s back. Her screams were shrill and raw, and with each him, Y/N was jolting as if she was the recipient of those aims.

“I DEMAND TRIAL BY COMBAT!”

The whole court went quiet.

“I DEMAND TRIAL BY COMBAT!” the very same wavery voice shrieked out, her voice echoing loudly through everyone’s ears. “Your King does not allow it!” Joffrey snarled at the woman. “No one has the authority to deny an ancient right like the trial by combat... Your Grace.” Y/N spat with disgust. She snatched her arms from both Oberyn and Ellaria and ran through the crowd, all the way down to the court, where she pushed Meryn Trant away from the girl. “Three days for now - I demand a fight to determine Alys Manderly’s fate. Choose your fighter, Your Grace.” each time she used the honorifics, she spat with mocking and disgust. “You dare challenge me?!” the young King was getting angrier by the minute. “Your Grace, as the Stark Lady said, the trial by combat is irrefutable. Choose a fighter and we will prepare for the fight.” the Hand of the King, Lord Tywin Lannister, spoke up with a solemn grace. “Fine then. Ser Gregor - Step forward. Show Lady Stark and Lady Manderly that the authority of the Faith and of the Crown are far stronger than some silly girl friendship.” thus, the monster of a man, clad in heavy plate armor from head to toe, holding a longsword that must have been taller than even Y/N herself, and he strutted in front of the Stark girl, who stood tall, and looked at him with sternly, despite her heart dropping with fear. “So it is you they send again, isn’t it, you fucking monster?” the people gasped at the unlady-like vocabulary displayed by the Lady. “Do you find pleasure in killing young ladies? Is that why you so willingly volunteer to do all the dirty deeds the Lannisters order you to?” her voice was getting louder and harsher with each word. “First, you abused and killed your own sister.” Y/N spat at him. “Then, you dared to touch Princess Elia Martell.” she continued - both Ellaria and Oberyn were now on their feet, shocked by her recklessness - But whilst Ellaria was more frightened, the Prince was proud and satisfied - His sweet flower wasn’t afraid to speak up anymore. “You raped her! You ruthlessly cut her body in half! You outright destroyed her children!” she yelled at him. “And now, you would kill two other women, for no reason -- You must be jerking off to the thought of butchering us... Mayhaps you want to rape us too, don’t you? Then cut us in half? Or do you first rape after death as well?” the challenging of the Mountain made the man raise his sword up - Though both Tyrion and Cersei yelled out for him not to hurt the Stark girl, as it would go against the Law of the Trial by Combat, Y/N was quick to dodge, with a graceful twirl - And she snatched away the heavy sword of Meryn Trant, choosing a defensive stance in front of her friend. “So you even have against your Master’s rules, don’t you, you fucking deaf beast?!” lucky her, however, Sandor leapt from the stands and caught his brother’s attention, protecting her. “LEAVE HER BE!” he roared, giving Y/N time to step away. “Is that how you rule over your guards, Your Grace?! You let them go savage and rampage everything in their path?! Where is the Rule of the Crown, then? Where is the abiding to the Faith?! Gregor Clegane is disobeying you, and you let him go! How is it any different from Alys Manderly’s case?!” Y/N yelled out, accusing the King, and by association, all the Lannisters. “IS THIS HOW IT WENT FOR ELIA MARTELL?! AND WHO KNOW HOW MANY OTHER COMPLETELY INNOCENT PEOPLE WHO HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS WAR?! HOW MANY CHILDREN WERE SLAUGHTERED AND CARVED UP, WRAPPED IN LANNISTER BLANKETS, BECAUSE OF THE HEARTLESS WHIMS OF A TYRANT LEADING A BRAINLESS MONSTER?!” “ENOUGH!!!” King Joffrey screamed - His eyes were red with anger, and if he could, he would burn everyone alive in that place. “GUARDS - BEAT HER TO DEATH, RIGHT NOW!” “Not yet, you have not the right to do that - Your Grace. Wait three days, and if my fighter loses, then by all means, my life will be yours. Until then, it is mine own, and no one else’s.” as the King had his temper tantrum, realising he couldn’t touch the woman humiliating him, Y/N made a mock curtesy bow and spun around, pacing towards Alys and roughly grabbing her by the wrist, dragging her away from there, in the castle, to her own room. “Stay here. Don’t move.” she ordered, locking the door.

Y/N’s whole body was shaking like a leaf. She had never protested, or raised her voice, or acted violent in any way. She had never mocked or humiliated anyone, let alone, tried to stand up for someone like that, even putting her own life on the line.

How stupid could she be?

Frankly, she wanted to bash her skull against a wall and end it all, but she knew she had to come up with a plan, and fast. There was no way she could fight against the Mountain, of all people. She should have known it would be him... Hell, she didn’t even want the Trial by Combat, but seeing her friend being beaten up made her mind go array. Instead, she leaned back on the wall and looked up at the ceiling of the hall, trying to clear her brain and think rationally.

Where could she go now? What can she do? She only knows Tyrion and Sandor here, in King’s Landing, and neither would prove to be too great of a help. “You! How-- HOW COULD YOU DO SOMETHING SO STUPID?!” a familiar voice cried out, as rapid footsteps echoed - Y/N felt herself being pushed against the wall by weak hands. Her beautiful sister Sansa was crying in her chest, shaking and sobbing tragically. “You will die! How could you do that?! Was seeing dad die not enough?! Now you will have me watch you die as well?!” “Sansa...” Y/N pulled her younger sister into a tight embrace, petting her hair dearly. “I don’t care about Alys! I don’t care about Jeyne either! I don’t care about anyone! Anyone can die - But you can’t! You can’t leave me all alone! I don’t want to be here anymore!” her voice was so broken, just like her heart. It shattered Y/N. If she could, she would kidnap Sansa and get the hell out of here, with the first opportunity. “Dorne and House Martell is known to cause problems for the Crown for hundreds of years. Might as well sneak you out and bring you back to Sunspear with your elder sister. You will see that she has taken quite a liking to the Water Gardens especially.” Oberyn’s amused voice betrayed none of his nervousness. Sansa had a glare on her face, looking at him. She saw him as the man who took her sister away from her. “Lord Martell, I would greatly appreciate it if you would not disturb my reunion with my sister, or imply such unseeming nonsense. I would not dare commit treason against the Crown and neither would Y/N.” somehow, the younger Stark child was able to keep her courtesies up. “Ahh, I see, so those pretty words run through the family, now that makes sense. You see, little flower, the truth is - Your sweet sister was happiest away from this place. I think that was obvious by what happened just moments ago.” Oberyn chuckled lightly. “Enough, you two. I am busy. I don’t have time for silly banters.” Y/N grumbled, prying her sister away from her embrace. “Busy? And with what, might I ask? Surely, you won’t go train to fight the Mountain yourself, will you?” the girl did not look at him. “Ahh, you’re playing stubborn again. Do you like me reassuring you every time, or are you willingly forgetful?” “I will not have you dying to that monster, Ryn! I won’t let him take away someone important to me.” she snapped at him strongly. “Is that your declaration of love, sweetling?” this comment made the girl groan. “And who said anything about - Dying - Anyway? Do you think me so weak as to die to that meat brain? Surely not, otherwise I would get offended.” Oberyn tut-tut’ed at the girl playfully. “I don’t want to take chances.” came her resolute reply. “You created the perfect opportunity for me to get my vengeance against that thing who took Elia away from me. Whether you want to or not, I will have my revenge.” Oberyn stepped in front of her, gently picking her chin and raising it. “On the other hand, your bold declarations of today have turned me on so bad that I will have to steal you until tomorrow. Little flower, go back to your room, your sister is safe with me.” the gallant man with the mischievous smile easily picked his soon to be wife up bridal style and brought her to his room. The look on her face was almost hilarious, that’s how bewildered and embarrassed she was by him acting so forward, in front of her sister, no less. “Now, my sweet snowdrop, how about I show my love for you? It should serve as enough of a reassurance that I will win against that thing.”

The three days passed by far too quickly, and Y/N could only watch Oberyn train, or speak to Sandor and hopefully find out whatever weakness his awful brother might have had, that they could exploit. The outside court was, once again, the place where the Trial took place, and while the Mountain was already on the fighting ground, Oberyn was kissing and embracing Y/N and watching as Ellaria polished his spear. And coated it with the deadliest poison there was.

“Ryn, please, please, please - Promise me you won’t leave me alone. I can’t bare the idea of losing you.” her wet eyes made the man smile even more as he pulled her into another loving kiss. “I won’t ever leave you, my love.” he put his forehead to her own, his hands on her cheeks. “I love you, Y/N.” “I love you, Ryn.” she held tightly onto his wrists, afraid of letting go. Still, it was thanks to Ellaria, who gathered her into her own arms, that she unclenched her fingers from around his hands, so he could get his weapon and go for the fateful fight. “Don’t worry, Y/N. Oberyn won’t lose. There is no other Red Viper in Westeros.” she petted her hair as the two watched the fight to death unfold.

Oberyn entered the fighting area by twirling around and showing off his agile and elegant moves - It almost looked as if he was dancing - Was it his way of showing Y/N that she has nothing to fear, and that the fight will be as easy as when she’d dancing around with the spear by the beach, and she’s smiling all happy and content?

He was taunting the Mountain, and parrying each and every one of his heavy blows. It was magnificent, watching the Viper mess around with his opponent, but every time Clegane would approach and hit, both Y/N and Ellaria would flinch and hug each other tighter.

The enemy was able to cut the spear in two, and even throw Oberyn to the ground - But it was the only damage he could do, as an enraged Prince impaled with ease the huge man’s torso, and even cut away at his leg’s tendons, making him kneel to the ground, before striking him even harder. The Mountain was laying flat on the ground, as Oberyn circled him, accusing him of the crimes he committed against Elia Martell, and kept ordering him to tell to the world who gave the wretched order - To prove that it was indeed Tywin Lannister.

“DON’T LOSE FOCUS!!!” Y/N shrieked at him, seeing the Mountain still twitching on the ground. Thankfully, the Viper took heed of the warning and dodged once the enemy tried to sweep him off his feet with his swinging arm. “RYN!!” it took every ounce of strength Ellaria had to keep the little flower away from the fighting ring, as Oberyn kept taunting and stabbing the Mountain, until finally, his last words became swept away into the stinking breeze of King’s Landing, and with one last defiant act, the Mountain had betrayed his former master.

“Tywin Lannister.” Gregor Clegane was dead, and so was the whole crowd, from shock. Only Y/N burst out of Ellaria’s arms once the trial was deemed finalized and the Martell Prince declared the winner, and she jumped in his arms, shamelessly peppering his whole face with kisses. Finally Dorne had received the confession and redemption of the perpetrator who committed such heinous, unforgivable acts against their beloved Princess. Now, it was only the Lannisters to bring to justice - Somehow - But all in due time. “I’m so not letting go of you tonight, my sweet Y/N.” the man couldn’t help but chuckle at the uncharacteristic display of affection from the otherwise timid and reserved lady - But it was, by far, the most endearing thing he’s felt. “Never let me go, Ryn.” how can anyone resist those sweet words, and those beautiful eyes of hers?

But Oberyn will soon learn that going against the Crown and getting revenge will prove to be far more devastating than he could ever imagine - Not for him directly, but for those dearest to him. The loss of the greatest Knight of the Lannisters must have been a huge blow, and they had to retaliate... Or that is what he thought at first... Though at the breakfast feast where only the select few members of the Royal family were invited, and the ones attending the Small Council. Everyone, but one, was shocked at what was to unfold.

They were supposed to just leave back home that day - How could things shatter so easily? Everything was under control, and they were the victors... How could the tides turn so quickly?

At the long table, King Joffrey and the Hand of the King were sitting on the opposite ends of the table. Oberyn, Y/N, Ellaria, Cersei were on one side, while Varys, Tyrion, Baelish and Grand Maester Pycelle were on the other side. There were two more chairs left vacant, one on each side. Y/N looked at Oberyn and whispered in his ear, worried - Where was Sansa? Surely, as the future Queen, she would be there? Y/N then looked at the King, further up, at Sandor, but even he seemed to know nothing. Tyrion, as well, was simply drinking wine, not bothering to raise the covering platter from his dish.

“I see my sister is running late. Is it appropriate to begin our meal without the future Queen?” Y/N asked, her hands holding each other on her lap. “Clegane, why don’t you go by Lady Sansa’s room and see how she is doing?” Tyrion ordered the Hound. “I have not been informed by her maid of any illness.” Cersei spoke, slowly reaching for her cup of wine. She shared a look with both Tyrion and her father - A look of imminent danger. They were all suspecting something was wrong. “The food will get cold if we wait any longer. Perhaps my Lady wife has lost the track of time putting on make up or doing her hair. That is what pretty girls do, don’t they?” with a wave of his hand, the people at the table had to reluctantly begin the meal, taking off the covers of their plates.

An ear-piercing shriek, followed by the loud sound of a heavy chair colliding with the cold ground. All at once, the chamber was silent, save for the loud, ragged pants of distress from the Stark girl, whose eyes were glued to the contents of the plate before her, as she stood huddled and small, like a scared little mouse, absolutely terrified.

“You have declared war with the whole North, irredeemably, and now, with the South as well. Is this how the Crown knows to keep old alliances in place? Perhaps the Mad old King Aerys wasn’t as bad as we thought.” Oberyn rose to his feet, glaring at the oldest Lannister man, who couldn’t peel his eyes from the blasted thing that ultimately sealed the end of the Lannister House.

“Sansa...” there, on Y/N’s very platter, lay her own sister’s beautiful head. Her expression was fixed, terrified, in agony. “My sweet Sansa... What have they done to you...” powerlessly crawling back to the table, Y/N reached out and gingerly grabbed her sister’s head, hugging it dearly to her chest, sobbing in her still very soft red hair. “Who did this to you, my sweet Sansa? Tell me... And I will kill them with my own two hands. Who ever it is... No matter who it is... I will make sure to avenge you.” her voice was so low and serene, that it sent shivers to most of the people present. “I assure you, this crime has nothing to do with us. We didn’t want Eddark Stark’s death, nor Sansa’s. We did not want a war with the North.” Cersei’s desperate voice seemed to make Oberyn realise that although not herself guilty, King Joffrey was the culprit. “You were Queen Regent, and still allowed her father’s death to happen. It is your fault, as well as King Joffrey’s, that the North wants you all dead.” Oberyn felt himself re-living the very same moment he learnt the news of Elia’s death. He was enraged. “I will have Varys and Lord Baelish investigate her death.” Tywin waved his hand to the two. “The same way you investigated Elia’s death? Or the same way you ordered it?” the Prince slammed his fist onto the table. “The disobedience of a subject does not fall under my jurisdiction.” the old Lannister spoke up. “A leader who cannot control his subjects is a bad one.” Oberyn refuted immediately. “What is it, Sansa...?” Y/N’s soft voice made everyone silent. “Did you say... Joffrey? The bastard born of incest? The boy-King who is crueler than Maegor, and madder than Aerys?” that seemed to anger both the mother and the child. “It is your own fault that you had to retort to killing my father to get rid of those accusations. They only made you even more guilty.” Y/N looked straight at Cersei, with piercing eyes. “Out of all the Stark children, only Arya looked like father. Us, the other five, looked just like mother. You were in the same position. You were just too dumb to realise. Now, look around you - The whole Westeros knows your secret, yet you have the stupidity to create even more enemies. The North remembers, Cersei. I have long since wished for a lion’s pelt for a carpet. Might as well have more than one.” the Queen Regent shot to her feet and stormed in front of Y/N, only to have Ellaria get in between. “I do not think you are in the right to step anywhere closer to the Princess of Dorne.” it was a warning. “And neither of you has a right to slander and threaten the Crown.” she shot back immediately. “I have every right to do whatever the fuck I want. You took my father and sister from me, for no reason. Surely, you have forgotten... That your own twin brother and lover is being held captive by my brother and mother. Let us see how long does it take my mother to take the sword herself and put Jaime Lannister’s head on a spike, once she learns that her sweet Sansa met the same fate her as beloved husband. Let us see how long it takes Robb to ally himself with Stannis. Imagine King’s Landing... Against the North... The East... The South... And, perhaps, if that does not work, than the Targaryen girl with her three dragons... She is still in Essos now, isn’t she? And Essos is so very close to Dorne... I’m sure it wouldn’t be too difficult to go in search for her and get her over to claim her throne... So many possibilities... All very tempting...” Y/N spoke, not once blinking, not once extending her gaze else where, and once she was done, she turned around to leave. “DOG, DON’T LET HER LEAVE! CAPTURE HER AND THROW HER IN JAIL!” but the Hound did nothing. “DOG!” “Fuck the king.” Clegane spat, as he threw his weapon to the ground. “I am done doing the stupid orders of a brat.” “I AM YOUR KING!” Joffrey kicked his chair in his rage. “You are no king. You are just a fucking cunt.” he was the first to punch open the doors, and he stomped away, followed by Y/N and the Martells. “Sandor. Will you come with us?” Y/N’s soft voice called out, down the corridor. “No, little fawn. I’m done with this shit. Fuck this city and all the people in it.” the man growled, and the girl agreed with a hum. “But don’t you want to avenge Sansa?” Sandor stopped in his tracks. “I know you loved her.” she continued. “She told me she wanted to run away with you. Up North, back home. Said she only ever felt safe when she saw you. We have not forgotten the many times you saved us.” she felt herself being pinned to the wall. “Avenging her won’t bring her back to life!” Sandor growled at the girl. “I know. But I’ve lost too much to let those fuckers continue to live without facing the consequences of their actions.” Y/N’s was calm... Too calm. “I have a friend in the North. He is known for flaying people alive. He had shown me, once. I think it is time I polish up those skills.” “And what would you have me do, then?” he let go of her. “You either become my guard and come to Dorne with me, or you go and join Robb in the war. Whether or not you want to fight, it is your choice, but I need someone I can trust up there. And I need to find a way to get Robb to ally himself with Stannis. He’s got a fleet. If Robb goes to attack the Westerlands again, threatening Casterly Rock, and Stannis attacks King’s Landing from Blackwater Bay... And if we attack from the South... There’s no way the Lannisters can win. We just need a good strategy, and a great many deal of people.” Oberyn had heard her speak this way for the first time. She wasn’t soft and shy anymore, nor was she erratic and desperate. Now, she was smart, collected and worst of all, grieving and war-driven. She had never been to war, but it was clear, all her trauma made her fearless. It was now that the young she-wolf was the most dangerous. “Fine. I’m going North. Your brother better not have me killed on the spot.” he scoffed, only to receive a pendant. “Robb gifted it to me before I left for the capital. It has a small letter addressed to him. He will know. Tell him I had sent you. Tell them what happened. The North never forgets.” she explained the plan. “You have changed, little fawn.” he was the last thing the man spoke to the eldest Stark girl. “I am no longer a little fawn, Sandor. Not anymore.” thus, Sandor Clegane left for his horse, Stranger, and galloped North, while Y/N and the retinue for Dorne, including Alys Manderly, set South, only stopping by a distant part of the God’s Wood to set fire to what remained of Sansa.

She was far too beautiful to rot away. Best remain ashes, and let herself be carried by the wind and travel wherever she wants to. Now, she is no longer a caged bird. Now, she is free. The days in Dorne were no better, and Y/N kept herself locked in her room, staring helplessly at the wall besides her. She was heart broken, and only revenge could quench the rageful fire in her heart. Day in and day out, she sent out letters - The first, to her brother, Robb, informing him of Sandor’s arrival, and the ideas of allying either with the greatest force on which Renly was relying on, the Tyrells, or on Stannis’s army. Then, to Ramsay, learning more of Lord Bolton’s plans, and convincing him to strive harder to become legitimized and quickly take over the Dreadfort. Lastly, she had sent a letter to Tyrion. He was the only one from King’s Landing that she did not want to kill. He had told her that he was planning a certain one’s death, after being snubbed harshly for even thinking about becoming the Heir of Casterly Rock.

Though Alys was here, she did not want to see her. In fact, save for Oberyn and Ellaria, Y/N had not allowed anyone to enter her chambers. It was clear that she could not get over the shock of losing two of her family members in such a fashion, and for the most part, the only thing she discussed with Oberyn were war strategies - Unless he wanted to help the girl sleep and dismiss her nightmares, at least for the night, and he would pamper and spoil her until she would forget even her name. His sweet words and tender caresses, those passionate kisses and the culminating sounds were all but sinful secrets that will forever remain in her chambers.

Even so, she hardly smiled - And the idea of their wedding was long since forgotten, until one evening, as she was very comfortably sitting on his lap, she found herself telling him about the preparations. “I have made you wait long enough. Everyone needs a reason to celebrate these days - Us, most of all. I wish Sansa... My family... I wish they were here. But it’s fine. You are my family, just like they are, and Dorne is my home, they same as Winterfell.” “You are still hurting, my love. There is no need for you to rush or hide your mourning. You need to heal.” his voice was so gentle and loving, Y/N felt herself melting in his touch. “I know. But I was raised with very traditional and stuck up views. I have long since broken many of those sacred laws, but by mine own selfishness, I am invoking the marriage pact so I can have you even closer to me. Will you forgive me for my unbecoming selfishness, my sweet Prince?” his chuckled breath on her skin as he was kissing her neck made her fingers dig into his shoulder as she let out a sweet mewl. “There is nothing to forgive, my love. I am sure Dorne would be filled with joy. They will see the most beautiful Princess.” he smiled, looking up to her. “And as a wedding gift, I promise you, my love, I will bring you lion pelts for carpets.” for the first time since so long, a smile appeared on her face, and life seemed to return in those beautiful eyes of hers. “Really...?” she asked, breathlessly. “I may have killed the perpetrator who did those awful crimes against Elia, but it doesn’t take away that she is still dead, while the Lannisters are thriving, and well. Now, they have made my sweet Princess suffer and they killed her family. I will have them brought to justice.” her heart was beating so fast, and she was completely charmed. She almost couldn’t breathe anymore, that’s how excited she was, imagining the dead bodies of the Lannisters. “I love you more than life itself.” without even thinking, her heart spoke out. “That’s what I love to hear, my sweet flower.” he chuckled lightly before pulling the girl into his arms once again.

The wedding was fa more spectacular than any Dornish would expect - Was it because of all the pain and suffering they had to endure? Or because the region needed all the cheering up needed? Or, simply, because Oberyn loved Y/N so much that he wanted to spoil and pamper her with every resource available in his hands, fitting for the Princess of Dorne.

Either way, it did not matter - Ellaria was the one that Y/N wanted to help dress her in all the jewellery and expensive brocades and the linen embroidered with the shiniest golden threads and sparkly zircons. Her long hair, red like the Rhoynar Sun brought by Princess Nymeria herself, was embellished with the most precious brilliants and diamonds in existence. Her make up, also, made her lips red like the blood oranges that were ripe and sweet, but her eyes were dark and seductive, making them look even more attractive and piercing than they already were.

Her dress, also, was highlighting her gorgeous silhouette and her bossom, and it was of gold and orange - Fitting for the Princess of Dorne - And Oberyn, also, was wearing his best clothes, all in the same colours of the Martell.

The songs were so joyful and fun, all the people were having a blast, everyone was dancing and drinking and were excited to celebrate the happy marriage between their beloved Prince and the kind and beautiful Stark girl.

The two lovers, despite all the woes and sorrow in their hearts, found that, together, they could move on and find reason for happiness within each other. Not once, did they break apart from each other, their hands always together, fingers always intertwined, and they were kissing so shamelessly in front of everyone, without any care in the world.

But garments were of no use at night, and their bodies spoke every words that was left unsaid. There was no need for anything else, for the passion they had for each other was enough to be understood, and their love was like no other.

For many nights, the two were the happiest people in Dorne, and even through the letters, she had received many positive news - Perhaps there was still hope for a good future for the Stark family? Perhaps, there is even promise for peace? Who knew.

There was one person, however, who was very against everything going on, and her plans all ruined. There was one last act of vengeance that she could commit.

One night, Y/N was drinking with Ellaria and Oberyn, and they were telling stories of old, and laughing about all the silliest things - Y/N especially wasn’t used to drinking so much so she was in an even gigglier disposition - But as long as she was in glee, and smiling, the two were content. A knock on the door made them raise their head, and as it opened, Alys timidly walked inside.

“Alys - So good to see you. Here, take a seat, drink some wine with us.” Y/N smiled gracefully at her friend, kicking a stool for her to sit on. Alys could see very well that Y/N wasn’t the same shy girl from up North, but someone far more refined and fitting of her title of a Princess. And the way she was cuddled up into the Prince’s side was even more of an insult. “I dare not...” the Manderly girl muttered bashfully, looking down. “Why are you acting all timid for, all of a sudden? Oh - Are you intimidated to sit with the Prince and his paramour? You were far more eager to bed them some months ago.” the Princess laughed shamelessly, making the girl keep her head even lower. “So King’s Landing was able to destroy even the most sociable of people. No surprise. Come on, you, just sit down and drink some wine with us.” Y/N sigh and rose to her feet, grabbing her wrist in an attempt to pull her on the chair - But Alys had brought her old friend into a tight embrace. “Forgive me, Y/N, I have not been able to get over what happened at the capital. I’m still shaken up that I almost died back there... And were it not for you and the Prince to save me... I am so sorry I wasn’t able to celebrate your wedding as you deserved... I am a shameful friend...” the Manderly girl sobbed into the crook of her neck, making the Stark girl sigh and roll her eyes. “Enough of that. I don’t want to hear it. You either sit down with us, or you go back to sleep. I can’t see other reason for coming here.” but then, Alys whispered into her ear. “The Lannisters send their regards -” she thought she was being sneaky, coming over at night when she was drunk - What a fool. Before she could plunge the dagger hidden in her sleeve into Y/N’s torso, the Princess had already grabbed her wrist and threw her into the stool she had kicked earlier, making her stumble to the ground, allowing Y/N to grab the hand in which she was holding the weapon and she slammed it hard onto the hand laying on the table, which was keeping her up. “First of all - Fuck the Lannisters. Second of all... Fuck you.” Y/N chuckled, seeing Alys with huge tears in her eyes, groaning from the pain. “H-How did you -- How did you know?!” the Manderly girl shrieked at her, making Y/N cringe and rub her ears. “Sheesh, so loud, calm down already.” the Princess muttered, plopping back down on the comfortable couch. “Neither Oberyn nor Ellaria trusted you, from the very beginning. Every time they warned me of you, it had come to light.” she reached towards the bowl to eat some grapes. “Also - Tyrion told me you’re Cersei’s lackey. I had been on the lookout for you for... A while now.” “T-Tyrion?! The Queen’s own brother?!” Alys’s eyes were bulged wide open. “There’s no man who wants Cersei dead more than Tyrion, trust me on that. Which reminds me... Would you now tell me why exactly do you want me dead? You were safe here, which means whatever vendetta Cersei has against me, it could have been erased... So you have something personal against me. Why?” the girl asked, her voice mocking her, as she felt Oberyn embracing her lovingly. “She is jealous of you, my love.” Oberyn spoke, taunting the girl. “From the moment I wanted to bed you, but rejected her, she has had it out for you.” he chuckled darkly. “O, so the little peasant girl wanted your wealth and status, didn’t she? How quaint.” Y/N rolled her eyes, amused, but also disgusted. “IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME!” Alys yelled at her. “It should have been me...!” she started sobbing. “Cersei promised me she would marry me to you! She promised me wealth and status and everything I wanted, as long as I worked for her!” “And you were stupid enough to believe her?” Ellaria snorted in disbelief. “Why would Oberyn ever marry someone like you?” Y/N asked in amusement. “Why would he marry YOU?!” the glare on her face made her look even uglier than before. “Because I’m cute.” Y/N laughed at her, only for her lover to agree. “Cersei thought she was being smart, creating a political alliance between the Starks and the Martells - But instead, she created an alliance that would one day come to destroy the Crown. Stupid bitch.” she shrugged at her. “Cersei would have never tried to marry you to me. Your House is nothing. Your name is nothing. Cersei isn’t smart, but she’s not that stupid either. She was only lucky I had fallen for this beautiful little lady over here, otherwise, I would have declined her offer too.” Oberyn planted a sweet kiss on the girl’s temple. “Lucky me, rather. You got me out of there, and you took care of me so dearly. I owe you everything, Ryn.” she leaned forward, her arms around his neck, pulling him into another sweet kiss. “You’re a woman worth loving and pampering, my love.” the man pulled her even closer to his body. “Just you wait until the Boltons skin your cunt of a mother and poor excuse of a brother -” Y/N immediately snapped up. “The Boltons are on the side of the North.” she corrected her, but by the look on her face, she realised otherwise. “Tywin bought Roose Bolton, didn’t he?” Y/N cursed under her breath, getting up to write a letter to her brother and to her bastard friend. “Not for long.” “The Boltons aren’t the only ones who support the Crown, you stupid girl!” Alys tried to shout, but she got ignored - For the most part. “The bastard son of Roose Bolton is MY friend. He is not loyal to anyone, even his father. Once he gets legitimized, he will kill Roose and will join our cause for good.” Y/N spoke, before looking up at Alys. “Which reminded me... Ramsay had always told me that, to get proficient at flaying, one must practice hard. I suppose it is high time I put in practice his teachings. I have to find out the other families that you claim are traitors to the Starks, after all.” Alys blanched on the spot. “Riri, will you help me out with her~?” that fakely sweet smile that Y/N had on her face made Alys even more terrified. This was not her old friend, Y/N Stark. This was a completely different person. “Gladly.” Ellaria got up from the couch and roughed up the Manderly girl, dragging her to the cellars. “Surely, you can go have your fun with her later. My sweet, innocent snowdrop aroused me too much, and I couldn’t possibly continue my night peacefully without some aid from my beautiful and lovely wife.” lazily extending his arm, he grabbed the girl’s wrist and pulled her back on top of him. “Since you ask me so nicely, I suppose I can make her wait a night... Or maybe two, to take care of my sweet husband of mine.”

#game of thrones #got #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine #oberyn martell #oberyn nymeros martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell imagine #got x reader #got imagine

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vidavalor · 7 months

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This is the face of an angel who just realized that his oppressors are afraid of him and his friends because, together, they are a force that threatens the regime.

This is the face of an angel that just realized all of this Metatron nonsense is to separate them and keep him-- the best strategist-- from starting a revolution. If they are split up, The Second Coming goes off without a hitch... but if Aziraphale unites them, then Heaven will fall. Crowley & Aziraphale alone are enough trouble together to stop Armageddon. Crowley & Aziraphale with the eons-long leaders and commanders of Heaven and Hell in Gabriel and Beezelbub, though? That is a coup.

How little would it take to overthrow it all at this point? How long until it's Crowley & Aziraphale & Gabriel & Beez... & Muriel & Eric & Furfur? How til they get Michael and Dagon on their side? How long until it's actually most of the demons and a sizable portion of the angels teaming up against what's left of Heaven?

Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death. Aziraphale took the coffee. The Metatron thinks it means subservience. He thinks it means he's tricked Aziraphale and that he's won and he was almost right, so is the level of trauma these beings have suffered. He didn't know, though, that coffee is already coded as liberty. He handed Aziraphale a cup of symbolic freedom and didn't realize how so very true that was going to be. Just like a certain empire once did when they gave some of their people the option to form some colonies, thinking that the empire would always remain in control, and now we call those colonies not part of Great Britain but The United States of America.

"Out of his mouth go burning lamps, and sparks leap out"-- the Job quote on the matchbox. The matchbox containing the fly, containing Gabriel via Beez. Out of Gabriel's mouth goes burning lamps-- Gabriel lights the way. He's the path forward. He is first shots fired in the rebellion...

...and sparks leap out.

Some Boston Tea Party stuff afoot, you guys.

That is the face of an angel that just realized that he and Crowley were both wrong: the solution isn't running away but it's also not taking over a broken system that doesn't want to be fixed... it's fanning the spark that Gabriel lit into a flame and then into an inferno and burning this entire mother to the ground.

Aziraphale is no longer headed to Heaven to run it.

He's headed to Heaven to *overthrow* it.

He's headed to Heaven to *liberate* it.

No idea how much of a chance he will get to succeed alone but this is Aziraphale. He will give them hell if it's the last thing he ever does-- for Muriel and all the angels like them. For all the persecuted demons. For the humans Heaven wants to destroy. For Gabriel.

Most of all, for what they did to Crowley and the 6,000 years of fear and pain they've put them through.

That is the face of an angel who just realized that he had almost been drawn back into Heaven's web of darkness again, only to hear that Heaven wants him to oversee the destruction of 8 billion people and the Earth he calls home and the stars the love of his life built and he has reached his absolute last remaining straw.

They've taken his home and hurt his friends and they took *Crowley* and at this point, Aziraphale no longer gives one flying fuck what it might be that God wants because God can go fuck herself if this it is. The elevator scene is Aziraphale saying Crowley was right:

That angel is *untethered* with barely controlled rage. They nearly played him for a sucker. He might die doing this and they fooled him and he broke Crowley's heart and they've taken too. Fucking. Much. It's just utter destruction. There will be no system of Heaven and Hell done when Aziraphale is through with it.

Aziraphale is about to go from not sure if he should stop Armageddon in S1 to being the angel that destroys the system of Heaven and Hell in S3.

Yes, you can save everyone, Aziraphale, but not alone. You need Crowley's imagination and Gabriel's leadership and Beez's intelligence. That's what they're afraid of. You finally got it in that elevator, so get up there now, get your gang back together, and make some trouble.

#ineffable husbands #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens s2 #good omens 2 #good omens meta

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narryffdreaming · 8 days

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A TOAST TO THE FUTURE — ONE

Summary: Aurora and Harry used to be friends, but life happened and they grew apart. Now, 6 years later, they meet again.

Rating: +18

WARNINGS: The story contains explicit language and mentions a past abusive relationship (mostly the consequences of psychological/emotional abuse). Some chapters also contain explicit sexual content.

Author's note: You have no idea how much I love these characters and how nervous I am to finally share this story again. I posted ATTTF for the first time back in 2022 but never got to finish it, so I'm hoping I'll get to do it this time! If you read this, I hope you enjoy it, and please be gentle with them! (lol)

PART ONE: 5,4k words

The sky is still dark when the Uber driver drops Aurora off at Stansted airport.

The polite man, who just kept her company for an hour and a half, wishes her a safe trip, and Aurora smiles, waving him a last goodbye and wishing him a good day right before she shuts the door of his black Toyota Prius. Once alone, a light breeze tickles her shoulders, but she doesn't give it enough time to settle as she rearranges the strap of the navy duffel bag on her shoulder and turns around, then sets her feet into motion.

Hopefully, she isn't late. She doesn't think she is. She left the house forty minutes before she needed to, and the ride to get there was shorter than expected because of the early hour, so she shouldn't be.

Still, she wants to make sure.

Just in case.

You can blame it on the fact that she hasn't spent a weekend with her friends in years. Or that it is the first time she's going out since… Well, since everything in her life turned upside down.

The strap of her bag slips from her shoulder, and Aurora catches it between her fingers. She puts it back in place and tightens her grip around the soft fabric, turning sideways to squeeze herself between a group of people that's happily chatting on the sidewalk. An apology leaves her mouth as she runs past them, but they don't seem to care nor notice they're standing in her way — or in everyone's way.

Has the Stansted airport always been this crowded?

The lights are bright outside, and the glass walls reveal how equally well-lit it is inside the terminal building. When she reaches the automatic doors, they take a moment to open, and she stops. It gives her enough time to catch a glimpse of her reflection, and her stomach quivers. Her hair is messy, the sports bag she's carrying doesn't match the maxi dress she's wearing, and she's showing off too much cleavage for a woman her age.

Those are too many things to notice in one quick glance, and she wishes she hadn't. Still, it is too early in the morning to feel insecure about the way she looks, and she doesn't have time for that. She has a flight to catch.

(Also, she really needs to pee right now.)

So she breathes in deeply and darts her eyes down, then takes her free hand up to her chest and pulls the fabric up. When she moves next, she keeps her sight fixed on the floor, then grabs the pendant of her necklace between her fingers and walks through the doors, biting the flesh inside of her cheek and fidgeting with the gold disk as her feet drag her inside the airport.

Everything feels slow and heavy. And there's a mix of nervousness and anticipation that's building up inside her. It's unsettling, but it keeps her moving, at least.

Once inside, Aurora looks up again. She turns her head to one side, then to the other, short nails never letting go of her necklace.

The wide open area in front of her leads to multiple check-in desks from several different airlines, but she ignores all of them, aiming solemnly on the huge departure boards placed around the terminal.

She doesn't have any luggage to drop, and her boarding pass is printed and ready inside her bag — and, just in case, there's also a copy of it saved on her phone — but she wants to make sure she won't be running late if she takes another five minutes for a quick run to the toilets before standing in line to get through security.

Her determination drives her forward, and she only stops walking when she's right in front of the closest monitor. She blinks a couple of times, making sense of all the information while searching for the only flight she cares about. And it only takes her a minute till she finds it:

6:45, Ryanair, Naples.

She drops her shoulders, and a yawn eases from her mouth, along with a shaky laughter.

She is fine. Everything's just fine. Desks aren't even open for check-in yet, so she has plenty of time to go to the bathroom and wake herself up. There's no need to collapse.

At some point she'll have to face the fact that she didn't sleep at all last night, but she plans to keep herself together and entertained until she's settled on her 2 hours and 45 minutes flight.

Then, she'll sleep.

Aurora turns around, and wanders her eyes to find the nearest toilets. She can't tell when was the last time she's been at Stansted Airport, but everything feels different from what she remembers. Did they go through renovations? Or has it always been big and hectic like this?

Well, it's not like Aurora is familiar with airports, anyway. She doesn't travel that much, and London has too many of them for her to get familiar with. The last time she went somewhere — anywhere — was for Noah's birthday, when she and Zack took him to Disneyland Paris for a quick celebration. They took a flight from Heathrow, though, and that place was so big that it did nothing but overwhelm her. So much that she barely remembers it.

Her chest tightens, and she closes her hand in a fist around the pendant.

A lot has changed since Noah's third birthday. In fact, everything changed because of Noah's third birthday. And things never stopped changing since then. Not even a year and a month later.

Oh God… In a couple of years she is going to be sitting on a leather couch, facing the traumatizing memories she and Zack created for him and apologizing for ruining his childhood.

She knows she will. She can see it happening.

A man bumps into her, and Aurora stumbles forward. She looks over her shoulder and apologizes, but he isn't around to listen anymore. Sighing, she lets go of her necklace and shifts her bag from one shoulder to the other, holding the strap to keep it firmly in place.

What was she even—Oh, toilets!

Right!

She shakes her head.

It takes her another minute until she sees some directions that will help her get there, and then she's walking again.

The toilets she's heading to are placed in a much quieter area, where even the lights are dim. Only a few people are there, seemingly waiting for time to pass — some occupying themselves with their phones on the chairs, but most of them laying on the floor, sleeping next to their luggage or using their backpacks as pillows. A baby cries somewhere distant in the terminal, and there's some coughing coming from a corner behind her, but besides that, everything's quiet.

She reaches the door at the exact moment a lady is walking out, and she almost bumps into her. They exchange polite smiles, and Aurora takes a step aside to make room for her to walk by. Once the lady is off her way, Aurora moves inside, then lets the door shut behind her, and everything goes silent.

The room is bright again, and someone must've just cleaned the place, because the smell of disinfectant is fresh and strong.

Aurora sighs. She heads to the last stall, walking past a row of other six on her way there.

After relieving herself, she stops by the sinks and washes her hands, taking the opportunity to look around her. And mostly to look at her.

The mirrors are big, almost covering the entire green wall between the sink and the ceiling, from side to side. To be fair, staring at her reflection doesn't sound like a good idea, but she promised she would try her best to go into the weekend with a positive mindset, and she can't do that while feeling so insecure about herself.

She lets the duffel bag slide down her arm and places it between her legs, then crouches to find her washcloth inside it. Holding the soft fabric between her fingers, she closes the zipper and stands up again.

Public toilets aren't the ideal places for skincare routines, but she's determined to do the best of whatever she can get. She places the washcloth on her shoulder and grabs the hair tie from her wrist, pulling her locks into a bun and getting them out of her way. Hunching down, she turns the tap on and puts her hands together, filling them with water before splashing it on her face. The coldness makes her wince, but it also makes her shoulders relax, and she pulls her lips into a timid smile.

She repeats the same process three times before grabbing the washcloth again and placing it against her skin. She doesn't rub it, but instead lets the fabric soak in the dampness. Finally putting her hands down, she looks at her reflection in the mirror, and bites the insides of her cheek. Her face looks more alive now that she's freshened up, but the rest of her body doesn't feel the same.

When she'd put that maxi dress on, an hour before leaving her house, she didn't think she would end up regretting the outfit. It's been probably a decade since the last time she's put it on, sure, but it used to be one of her favorites, and she always went for it when she didn't know what to wear. She used to consider it her safe choice.

And yet, wearing it now feels everything but safe.

It also doesn't feel nearly as comfortable as it used to. Maybe it's because of the straps… She never wears sleeveless outfits anymore, let alone something that's held by such a thin string of fabric. And the V neck… Oh God. How did she walk around London showing off her chest so comfortably? How did she go to class not bothering about people being able to see the curve of her breasts?

Even its color shade looks weird now, and she's not sure she enjoys how that rust red looks on her anymore. Her body hasn't seen the sun in a really long time, and her skin doesn't look very appealing — it's dry, and filled with stretch marks.

Honestly, the full length and loose fit are the only things she can still appreciate from the dress — although around her waist it doesn't feel as loose as it used to feel before.

Shit. Did she even pack one thing that's going to make her feel good about herself in Italy?

No, of course she didn't. Because Madison was the one who helped her pack for the weekend, so of course all of her choices included the tiniest, brightest and most provocative outfits that were hidden and forgotten inside of her closet since… Well, basically since Aurora stopped being single, to be honest.

"You need to loosen up," she'd said. Along with "you're divorced, not dead," and "your tits need to see the sun; they are gorgeous, they deserve it".

Alone inside the restroom, Aurora rolls her eyes at the memory of her best friend's words. Obviously, the whole chit-chat did nothing to convince her. Most of the old clothes Maddie had found hadn't seen the light of day in almost a decade, and Aurora doesn't have the same body she used to have back then to simply put them on again.

Not to mention she doesn't want Noah to ever see her wearing any of those outfits. It's not the image of a mother she wants him to remember. And she's been already messing up so many things for him, that she doesn't need to add "being an embarrassing mom" to the list — and she won't add an accusation of excessively exposing her son to his own mother's naked body in those future therapy sessions she already knows she'll be paying for.

Call it damage control, if you want to. After all, that's how she's facing it herself.

But then Maddie had put her hands on her shoulders, stared deeply into her eyes, and said: "it's going to be us. Just us. It's the perfect and safest place to have some fun and try out of your comfort zone. And you and I both know how much you need it right now." And Aurora couldn't fight her on that, so she said yes and agreed to put all of her jeans and t-shirts away for the weekend — which she can now confirm was a terrible, terrible decision.

She sighs. Again.

It's going to be a long weekend, isn't it?

Still examining herself, she turns around and looks over her shoulder, facing her back on the mirror. Fortunately, it doesn't show too much skin, although the flesh of her armpits could be more covered.

There was a time when Aurora felt breezy and comfortable on her own body. When she looked at herself and felt beautiful and free. Even sexy. Now, though, the simple thought makes her laugh. It sounds ridiculous, and she can't even make sense of it.

Biting her lip, she turns around one more time, and something catches her eye. She stops midway, narrowing her eyes to find out what it is, and then, she raises her eyebrows, and a spark of hope ignites inside her — she completely forgot about the adjustable straps!

Fully turning around, she squats down and puts the washcloth away, then stands up, already reaching both hands towards her back to tighten and shorten the strings. It isn't easy, and for a moment she even considers to hide inside of a stool and take the dress off to do it more comfortably, but eventually she succeeds, and the slight change instantly makes her chest feel more covered.

It's a small win, but Aurora is serious about making the best of whatever she can get that weekend, so she takes it, and smiles at her reflection.

The gold disk shines on her chest, and she takes it between her fingers, pulling it to her mouth and placing a soft kiss to it. She's really going to miss spending the weekend with Noah, but she knows she needs to take care of herself to be able to take care of him, and that it's also important for him to spend some time with his dad. Besides, it's only going to be three days — not even that. By Sunday afternoon she'll be back home with him, and everything will go back to normal.

Yes, see? That's it: two days.

Two relaxing and fun days with her friends, and then everything will go back to normal.

The line to get through security is huge.

Aurora stops behind a chatty and cheerful family of five, and sighs. She puts her frizzy hair down, then crosses her arms under her chest and lifts one hand to fidget aimlessly with her pendant.

Honestly? She can't wait to get to Italy. She can't wait to finally see that beautiful ocean in the Amalfi Coast. It's a trip she always dreamed about, but also one she didn't think would actually happen — and one she's sure she wouldn't be actually embarking on if she hadn't been forced to by her friends.

Aurora's mouth turns into a smile, and she looks at the ground, taking the pendant to cover her lips.

Despite everything that went wrong with her own marriage, she is happy for Lucy and Theo. She truly is. Just because things didn't work out for her, it doesn't mean they won't for them. Besides, their relationship is the only thing between all of them that hasn't changed since their graduation, so who knows? Maybe they'll have better luck than her and Zack. Maybe Lucy won't mess things up like she did, and maybe Theo won't—

"Auri?" a deep and low voice calls. Aurora furrows her brows and takes her hand down from her lips, putting her necklace back to its place. "Aurora?"

She turns on her feet, finding flamingos on a loose black shirt. Blinking a couple of times, she darts her eyes up, and meets the face of a friend she hasn't thought of in a really long time.

She widens her eyes, and places the palm of her hand on her cheek.

"Oh my God," she whispers. She raises her eyebrows, and her mouth curves into a smile at the same time it falls open. "Harry!"

She breathes out a laugh and takes a step forward, then stands on her tiptoes and throws her arms around his neck.

The duffel bag on her shoulder follows the movement of her body, hitting Harry's stomach before she can stop it.

"Ouch," he groans into her ear.

Aurora pulls away. "Sorry, sorry—"

He chuckles, hunching down slightly and placing his hands in the middle of her back.

"'S okay, c'mere," he says, pulling her body closer and crossing his arms around her waist, embracing her into a tight hug.

Heat takes over her body, radiating through her chest and tingling from head to toe. It's so good to see him! She can't help the smile that lightens up her face, so she closes her eyes and rests her chin on his shoulder, circling his neck with the same affection he's putting into his hold.

"What are you doing here?!" she asks, still too excited to let him go.

Did he get even taller?

Or is he just stronger than he used to be?

"Probably the same thing as you?" Harry chuckles.

Shit. She's so stupid! Of course Harry would be at Lucy and Theo's party. Of course! After all, he was part of the group, too. Sure, maybe the last to join and the youngest of them all, and also the only one living across the world, but still… He was—he is part of the group. And Lucy and Theo would invite him, too. Of course they would. How didn't she think of him when thinking about the weekend?

"Don't wanna break the moment," Harry murmurs, rubbing his hand up and down her back, "but I think we gotta walk."

Aurora jumps away, holding her weight on his shoulder and twisting her neck to see the line ahead of her. She slides her fingers down, watching as the family of five gathers their things. They aren't rushing, though, and it doesn't seem like they'll be taking more than two steps forward.

Still smiling, she bites her bottom lip to keep her excitement down, then looks back at him.

Harry is standing with his arms loose on each side of his body, chin down while he stares down at his chest.

Following his sight, Aurora finds her own hand, and she widens her eyes. She's clutching at the second button, where both sides of his black shirt with pink flamingos meet. His hairy chest is on display, just like tiny bits of black ink tattooed on his skin and the long golden string of a necklace.

A rush runs through her fingers, and she withdraws her arm.

"Sorry," she whispers, pulling her hand to her own chest and squeezing it into a fist.

Harry clears his throat.

"'S okay," he murmurs. Without looking at her, he straightens his back and stretches an arm, pointing out to the empty space in front of them. "Shall we?"

Aurora moves quickly, shuffling on her feet and nodding in silence. She turns around, and the strap of her bag falls from her shoulder, dropping to the crook of her arm. She winces, and stumbles a little.

"Shit."

"Here," Harry says, and the weight on her elbow disappears. "Let me."

Frozen, she watches — and feels — the way he gently grabs her wrist and takes her bag out of her arm, pulling it to himself.

"Harry…" She drops her shoulders. "You don't have to."

"Just walk, c'mon. We're holding the line."

Aurora peeks over his shoulder, and certainly people don't seem friendly while watching them. She sighs, but turns around and walks.

It only takes them three steps to reach the family of five once again, though, and she's back to facing him.

Harry is rearranging the straps on his shoulders, holding two duffel bags now — his own, and hers.

"Okay," she says, stretching her arm to him, "now give me that."

He chuckles, and dodges her. "Nope."

"C'mon!" She rolls her eyes, but a smile dances on her lips. "I can carry my own bag, okay?"

Harry shrugs. "Never said you couldn't."

She sighs, and tilts her head. "Harry…"

"Will you stop being stubborn?"

Harry grins widely, contrasting his words, and his eyes brighten with amusement.

Aurora lifts her brows and parts her lips. A shaky chuckle coming out of her mouth. "I—Excuse me?"

Harry diverts his eyes somewhere behind her, and he tilts his chin up.

"C'mon, we gotta walk again."

Lifting her left eyebrow, Aurora crosses her arms, and stares silently at him.

Harry glances back at her, then presses his lips together, watching her for a moment as he wanders his eyes around her face. He purses his mouth, and then he cracks into soft, genuine laughter.

"Ha!" He throws his head back for a moment, chuckling lightly, then looks back at her. "I totally forgot you could do that."

Aurora's beaming, just like him, but her heart is racing, and her breath gets stuck in her throat. His smile is really contagious, framed by deep dimples on his cheeks and wrinkles all around his eyes. It's hard not to feel mesmerized by it.

"Uh…" She blinks a couple of times. "Do what, exactly?"

He walks, prompting her to walk along with him. Still smiling, he points a finger up, right to her face. "The thing… Y'know. With your eyebrow."

"Oh…" Aurora widens her eyes for a second. "Right."

She laughs and shakes her head, relaxing the muscles of her entire body, including her face.

She takes one hand to her forehead, and rubs the tip of her middle finger on her left eyebrow. Even though it's something she used to intentionally do pretty often when she was younger, usually to prove a point, it was also something that came up so naturally to her that she never paid too much attention to it. And a habit that, with time, she left behind. However, now that she found out Noah thinks it's super cool that his mom can lift only one eyebrow while most people can't, she's been consciously doing it more often. She never cared about being a cool mom, to be honest, but lately it seems the title started to mean something to her.

They stop walking, much closer to the metal detectors now, and Aurora stretches her arm again. She doesn't say a word, simply reaching for the strap of her bag on his shoulder.

"Auri..." Harry chuckles. He grabs her wrist between his fingers, then slides his touch to her hand, taking it to his mouth. He places a single kiss on her knuckles, and looks at her. "Please, 's nothing. I promise."

Aurora presses her lips together tightly, words getting stuck on her throat. It only lasted a second, but it was enough to keep the warmth of his lips lingering onto her cold skin.

"Okay." She nods. Her voice is softer, and she looks down to smile. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," he says, taking her hand down and gently letting it go. "Did you bring a jacket?"

Raising her head, Aurora narrows her eyes, and meets his stare. "What?"

"Your hand's really cold." He shrugs. "Do you want my jacket?"

Aurora chuckles, and waves him off. "Oh no, I'm fine. My hands are always cold."

Harry pulls his brows together. He opens his mouth to say something, but quickly shuts it again.

"Anyway…" She clears her throat. "How are you? We haven't talked in… I don't know… Five? Six years?"

Harry looks down and nods, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Around that, yeah."

"Hmm… Well, I had no idea you were back in the UK!"

"Uh, yeah." He shifts on his feet, and shrugs. "Came back a couple of weeks ago, actually. Haven't seen anyone yet."

Taking one hand out of his pockets, he lifts his arm and scratches his jaw. The movement draws Aurora's attention to the facial hair he seems to be growing, but also to his chipped yellow nail polish and the three rings he's carrying on his fingers. And when he rakes the same hand through his curls, pulling his hair away from his face, she notices the amount of new tattoos covering his slightly tanned skin.

His movements are subtle, almost timid, but Aurora is hypnotized. She hasn't seen him since… Damn, when was the last time she saw him? He was at her wedding, she remembers that, because she remembers the floral-printed suit he was wearing, and that his hair used to be longer than—

Aurora gasps, and Harry jolts.

"What?"

"Your hair!" Uncrossing her arms, she takes a step forward. She stands on her tiptoes and reaches for his head, touching the tips of his short curls while switching her voice to a soft murmur, "It's so… Short."

Harry shoves his hand back inside his pocket, but doesn't say anything, and Aurora entertains herself stroking the hair at the back of his neck, and then pulling some longer bits around his ears.

"Oh my God…" she murmurs again.

For as long as she's known Harry, she's known him with curls long enough to french braid, pull into buns and even attempt some ponytails — he hated the last ones, by the way. The girls used to tease him for having softer and shiner hair than any of them, and they all even went through a phase of trying to use the same hair products as him.

And yet, looking at him now, she's not sure if there's length enough for even a hair clip. Well, maybe a tiny one, to keep those curls that fall into his forehead out of the way… But still…

"The line," Harry murmurs.

Aurora pulls her arm to her chest, and lands her heels back on the floor.

"Right."

She turns around and takes a couple of steps forward, and an unsettling feeling grows in the pit of her stomach. It squeezes her lungs, and it makes her mouth go dry, so she presses her lips into a hard line and swallows. Then, she takes a deep breath in. And another one.

There's silence between them, until Harry clears his throat.

"I cut it as soon as I left," he explains, and Aurora glances at him over her shoulder. "I think this is the longest it's been since then." He shrugs. "I'll probably do something about it next week."

Aurora hums, and curls one side of her mouth up.

"You got a lot of new tattoos, as well."

Harry smiles, albeit sheepishly, and nods once. "Guess I did."

Facing away from him, Aurora can't help but smile again.

What a weird thing it is, to stand in front of Harry after so many years and find everything about him so familiar, yet completely different and strange at the same time. To have grown so distant from his friendship, and yet feel as close to him as she's ever felt before.

How could she forget about him?

How could she go through life without thinking about a friend? Without wondering about how they are, or what's going on with their lives?

Shit.

Tapping one foot on the floor, she grabs her necklace between her fingers.

She can't spiral into this right now. She hates coming face to face with the person she's become, and this weekend isn't for her to swell into guilt and drama. She's supposed to have fun. She's supposed to let things go. She's supposed to—

"Auri?"

Aurora stops the steady movement of her foot, and looks at him over her shoulder. "Yeah?"

Someone from security calls the next passenger, and she follows Harry's movements to walk forward, not even bothering to look where she's going.

"Nothing." Harry shakes his head, dismissing the subject, but Aurora can see the way his brain is working hard to figure something out. Noah tends to do the same a lot of the time — he'll have questions, and when he doesn't understand the answer, he'll purse his lips and shift his eyes around him, as if looking for a different explanation.

It appears Harry is going through the same process, because he keeps staring at her arms, and at her hands. And when he pinches at his bottom lip — something she recognizes as an old habit of his — it's enough for her to confirm her suspicion.

"Harry…" She chuckles and rolls her eyes, making sure to keep her voice soft as she calls him out. "Don't be silly. Just say what's on your mind, c'mon."

An amused and short laugh leaves his chest, and she smiles at the way his entire face lights up again.

"'S nothing… I was just… Because you… I mean, you don't seem to be taking a lot of stuff… Then I realized you… Well… I was wondering…"

There's a bit of silence, and it quickly becomes clear he won't complete any of his half-sentences.

Aurora half-smiles. "Yes?"

"Sorry." He shakes his head. "Is your husband coming, too?"

"Oh…" She lifts her brows, then puts them down again.

She nods once, understanding where he's coming from. It is a genuine question, a very reasonable doubt. After all, the last time they saw each other was at the wedding — her wedding — and not many people know about the many changes in her life since then. So she can't expect him to know, nor blame him for asking.

She doesn't want to say the words out loud, though. Is there a way to tell him without actually telling him?

"Hm, no," she tries. "It's just me. Zack's with Noah."

Harry hums. He gives her a lopsided smile, and nods.

Aurora frowns, and turns around to face the line.

That probably wasn't helpful. It didn't announce Zack isn't in her life anymore. It just seemed like he stayed home with Noah.

Which he did, yes, but he isn't at home with Noah. He is at his own place, a very fancy apartment he didn't struggle at all to buy after their divorce.

Ugh! Why is it so hard for her to announce to the world that Zack isn't her husband anymore? He hasn't been for a while now, and it's not like she wishes he would still be. Honestly, figuring out her relationship with Zack keeps being exhausting, no matter how much distance she puts between them.

Will that ever change? Will things ever get easier for her?

"How's he, by the way?" Harry's voice sounds behind her. "Noah, I mean. Just turned four, right?"

Aurora bites her lip, but it isn't enough to hold back the grin on her face.

People move forward, and they walk a couple of steps. There are only three passengers left in front of the family of five.

Aurora nods.

"Yes, he's four now. And he's the most adorable kid in the world! So, so, so sensitive, and so smart" —she walks forward again, but doesn't stop talking— "and now he's getting into this stage of trying to do things by himself, and it's just so endearing to watch! And he's really chatty, too, oh my. He loves telling stories, so he keeps—"

Aurora widens her eyes, and turns around.

Harry is beaming at her, and she covers her mouth with one hand.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles against her palm, then puts it back down. "Sorry, sorry. I'm so—I mean, I know, I'm one of those mums now."

"What?!" Harry laughs. "I was loving it! Was even hoping you'd show me a couple of pictures."

Her cheeks warm up, and she looks at her feet.

"Right."

Her hair falls to her face, and she takes both hands to put it behind her ears.

Please, don't blush.

Please just keep it together.

"Hey, I mean it." He places one hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. His hand is warm, but his rings are cold and her skin tingles with goosebumps. Shit. Now, her earlier prayer becomes a silent cry of help for him not to notice her reaction. "He sounds a lot like you, by the way."

Her lips twitch, and she bites her bottom lip to hold back the stupid smile that keeps looming on her face.

"Well… Would you really like to see some pictures? 'Cause I have plenty of them."

Peeking up at him, she finds him staring and smiling. Harry's hand is still on her shoulder, but it promptly circles her neck, grabbing her opposite side and pulling her forward.

Aurora holds her breath, crushing against Harry's chest as he squeezes her body and kisses the top of her head.

"God," he groans, his lips brushing her hair as they move, "you're so adorable. 'S so good to see you again."

Hii! If you're here, thank you so much for reading part one :) it truly means the world to me! I care a lot about this story and these characters, so I'd love to know your thoughts about it — and I hope you'll feel comfortable to share them with me!

Once again, thank you for reading! :)

Dani

PART TWO

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles au #harry styles writing

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persevereforahappyending · 1 month

Text

Luck Runs Out |Part 7|

Pairing: Mabel x Reader

Summary: When your luck runs out you unknowingly drag Mabel back into the life, she's so desperate to escape.

Warnings: Violence, Beating, Threats, Kidnapping

Word Count: 3.5k

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

You weren’t sure how long you held Mabel before you got her to calm down. When she did finally settle down you led her to the edge of the bed and had her tell you what happened. She explained how when they got to the dock she saw a shifty looking guy, when she described him, you knew he was an enforcer for the man you worked for. He was not a good guy, whenever the boss wanted to teach someone a lesson or dispose of someone, he was the guy sent to get the job done. You’d never interacted with him, luckily, but you had seen the aftermath of his work.

Mabel went on to say how they basically tore the boat apart looking for the drugs but couldn’t find them anywhere. Charlie’s brother and the others were missing, no sign of them anywhere, which you knew was unusual, Tommy practically lived on that boat, he would never disappear without a word right after bringing in a haul. Then she got to the part where Charlie answered a call thinking it was Tommy, but it was the man she had seen on the dock.

Your breath caught in your throat. Your boss had the drugs back, only three packs but it was the three packs that had kept you alive. He most likely didn’t know you were still alive, but he had somehow found out the crew of the Finestkind wound up with some of his missing drugs and he wanted them back. He had them taken, probably because he thought they knew where the rest of the missing drugs were. He would stop at nothing to get his drugs back, he already had his main pickup crew killed, a random fishing crew wouldn’t even be a sacrifice to him, just an obstacle the way.

“He told me to leave,” Mabel whispered, sniffling as she continued to calm herself down. You furrowed your brow and looked at her. “The guy seemed to want me as well, but Charlie convinced him to let me go.”

You nodded, it seemed you owed Charlie again, first he saved your life, then he saved Mabel’s. He might not have even realized just how much he was saving her, he probably only thought of it as keeping her as far away from all this as possible. You almost admired him, it was annoying how good of a guy he was, Mabel deserved someone good like that. Now, because Charlie was such a good guy and saved your useless life he was in danger, all of them were in danger.

“That’s good,” you said softly. “That man you saw, he’s not a good guy.” You knew Mabel was familiar with this world, she probably had already guessed what you meant and what this guy did. You didn’t want to cause her anymore panic though, you didn’t want her to stress about just how much danger Charlie was in. After all, for all you knew, Charlie was dead with the rest of his crew. The second your boss realized Charlie and the others truly didn’t know where the rest of the drugs were there was nothing stopping him from putting a bullet in each of their heads.

“What are we going to do?” She asked, tears filling her eyes once again.

You instantly wrapped your arms around her, pulling her in for another hug. You went through idea after idea as you held her. You needed to fix it, not her, she needed to stay as far away from this mess as possible. You needed to fix it, you needed to try and save Charlie and the others. You didn’t want anyone else to die because of your mistakes, you caused the mess, and you were going to be the only one to clean it up.

After a few hours of comforting Mabel and trying to talk her out of doing something stupid she was finally asleep. With the way she had her windows covered you had no idea what time it was, but you knew it was late, Charlie and the others had been gone all day, Mabel hadn’t heard anything from anyone. You looked down at the sleeping girl, you knew it was just because she was upset but she had passed out next to you on the bed and was now cuddled up against you. This was the first time she had slept in her bed since you had been brought over, you tried to move to the couch a few times insisting your wound would be fine, but Mabel wouldn’t have it.

You enjoyed the moment of feeling the warmth of her against you. You smiled down at her, she looked so peaceful, a part of you felt guilty for what you were going to do because you knew she’d be pissed when she found out, if she knew, she’d do everything in her power to stop you. She would try every way imaginable to save your life, to save the life of a stranger, someone she hadn’t even known a week. You couldn’t let her do that, it’d been a long time since someone cared about you, but you couldn’t let her risk her own life for yours. You brushed the strands of hair out of her face before you gently lifted her off the side of your body and slid out from under her as quietly as possible. You slipped a pillow into her arms, waiting and watching as she curled her arms around the pillow and buried her face into it.

You crept to the door, moving effortlessly around the furniture. When opening the door you gave her one last look before slipping out. She would be mad at you, but it was worth it if it meant saving her, besides, if things did go wrong, it’s not like she’d remember you. You would become just a faded memory, a story she told when joking around at the bar as she laughed with friends, reminded about the person who was practically dropped off on her doorstep, someone she helped save until they disappeared in the middle of the night.

You closed the door as gently as possible then slipped out into the night. You turned down the street and began making your way to your apartment. You were going to go after Charlie and the others, you were going to clean up your mess, but you had to do something else first.

A few hours later you began making your way to an old warehouse in an abandoned part of town. You fiddled with your trident necklace as you got closer to the building. It was rundown, the windows caked in dirt, it looked like every other abandoned building in the area, not a soul in sight. You knew what secrets actually lay behind the rusted doors and crumbling walls. Before you got to the large, rusted metal doors you tucked your necklace into your shirt, as much as you would like his help you weren’t sure how much he cared when it came to drug dealers.

You brought your hand up, knocking on the door, the sound echoing throughout the seemingly empty warehouse. The grinding sound of the slot in the door sliding out of the way pierced your ears. You saw the eyes of the guard on the other side appear through the slot; you didn’t have to say anything as his eyes widened with recognition. He quickly slid the slot back into place. You bounced on your feet, looking around as the area remained silent. Finally, the grinding and groaning of the metal door scraping against the concrete filled your ears as the man opened the door. Before you could even step forward an arm reached out pulling you into the dark warehouse before quickly shoving a sack over your head. You groaned as the man aggressively grabbed your injured arm before gripping your other so he could wrap your wrists together with some rope.

You stumbled through the warehouse as the man would occasionally shove your shoulder to get you to keep moving. You had been through this before, they were very secret when bringing people inside, even if you had been there over a hundred times by now. You knew where the warehouse was, you knew where deliveries were made, you even saw the room where they unpacked the product, you’d also been in your boss’s office, but you were sure there were rooms you had never seen, rooms you didn’t want to see. You wondered which room you were going to be taken to, you were doubtful it would be a simple office visit.

You came to a stop as you heard someone unlatch the door, the metal scraping together before it was grinding against the concrete floor. The man leading you around shoved you, sending you stumbling into the room. The door was quickly closed, and you were left you didn’t know where. You swallowed nervously as you strained your ears, trying to pick up if anyone else was in the room or how many of them there were.

The bag was quickly ripped off your head, making you blink your eyes rapidly as they adjusted to dim lighting. You looked around, the walls were all solid stone, not a single window in sight. Various parts of the walls and ground were splattered with a dark brown color. You looked down, noticing the drain and the stains that were leftover in the concrete, completely imbedded now that no amount of scrubbing would ever get them to come out. You flexed your hands, your wrist straining against the rope as it dug further into your skin, before intertwining your fingers to help hide the shaking.

You looked up, your breath catching in your throat as you saw your boss standing before you. He was in his usual black suit and tie, a suit that probably cost more than you ever made on a job for him. His hair was slicked back, not a strand out of place, if he was walking down the street, he would look like a rich businessman, no one would ever peg him as wealthy drug dealer and one of the most ruthless leaders of a powerful gang. He hadn’t bothered to look at you yet, he was to busy wiping off one of his knives with a cloth. You tilted your head trying to get a better look but couldn’t see any blood on the knife.

“I was told you were dead,” your boss finally spoke. He still didn’t bother looking at you, he just held his knife up to the light, turning it to make sure it was to his liking. If you didn’t know him you would think he wasn’t angry, his tone was so casual, but you did know him, his calm and cool persona was scarier than his angry one.

You opened your mouth, letting out a shaky breath, you were ready to defend yourself, though you didn’t know what you wanted to say. The grinding of the door opening again made you jump, your head instantly whipping around to meet whoever was about to enter. Two large men, strapped with guns led four people into the room, each of the people had their wrists tied like you and sacks over their heads. The men led the prisoners to the far wall, cuffing two of them to a metal pipe that ran up the wall near the back of the room, then the other two to another pipe running up the wall closer to where you stood.

The men ripped off the bags on the prisoners, revealing Charlie, Tommy, Costa, and Nunes. You couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief at seeing them alive. Tommy had a blackeye, Charlie a busted lip and dried blood under his nose and down his shirt. Those two had clearly been mouthing off, luckily the other two looked relatively fine, besides the whole being kidnapped and held prisoner thing. Charlie’s eyes widened when they met yours, you had to look away, silently hoping he wouldn’t do something to screw this up. There was still a chance, a small chance, but a chance nonetheless that you could get them all out alive.

You watched as one of the men who brought the boys in left the room, closing the door. The other man stayed in the room, moving to stand at the door, his arms crossed as his eyes watched you and the prisoners. Your boss finally turned around, looking you up and down as he waved the knife around in his hand. Maybe you wouldn’t get to plead your case, beg for the lives of the others, maybe he’d just kill you quickly before you ever got to say a word.

“I want my shipment back,” your boss said simply. “These boys,” he pointed the knife at the guys, “were found with some of my property.” His eyes moved back to you as he took a step closer. “They’ve been refusing to tell me where the rest of it is.” He let out a humorless chuckle, his eyes were practically black, you couldn’t look away even if had wanted to. “I’m hoping you’ve come to cooperate.”

“Yes,” you rasped out. You licked your lips; you didn’t realize your mouth had gotten so dry.

“Fantastic,” he smiled, holding his arms out wide.

“As long as you let them go.”

He tilted his head, his eyes somehow becoming darker. “That’s not how this works,” his tone was still casual but there was a lingering sense of danger behind his words.

“They don’t know anything.”

“Is that so?” he tilted his head, but it was clear he didn’t believe you.

“Yes.” You tried to keep your voice steady, but it wasn’t working out well. “The only reason they had your product is because they found me in the ocean and saved my life.” He hummed, clearly interested but still not willingly to believe you. “They don’t know anything. They aren’t involved.”

“What were you doing in the ocean?” he narrowed his eyes. “Your captain, may he rest in peace,” he looked up as if he actually cared and wasn’t the one to kill him. “Said there was an accident, your life tragically lost, along with my merchandise.” You heard the shift in his tone when he said merchandise, he cared much more about losing his product then about your life, but you already knew that. “And yet, here you stand.”

“My captain shot me.” He raised his eyebrows at that, clearly your captain had neglected to divulge the full truth to him, that also explained why you weren’t shot on site, if he knew you dropped his drugs in the ocean you wouldn’t have even made it to the front door.

“Why would he go and do something like that?”

You swallowed, ignoring the way tears began to fill your eyes. Your next words would solidify your death, maybe you should have said goodbye to Mabel, left a note or something. “Because I cut the line.” You were almost impressed with yourself; your voice didn’t waver at all that time.

Everything was silent, you didn’t see the shift in your boss, you only felt his fist meet your ribs, making you double over, before he gripped you by the hair to hold you in place as he brought his knee to your face. You stumbled back, coughing as the blood poured out of your nose, spitting what you could on the floor. He didn’t use his knife, you wondered why. You heard a struggle to your side, glancing to see Charlie on his feet, straining against the cuffs keeping him bound to the pipe.

“You cost me a lot of money,” your boss said, gripping your injured shoulder tightly. “You got your entire crew killed.” He moved his hand to the back of your neck, keeping the tight grip so you were forced to look him in the eye. “Now, you’ve gone and dragged these boys into this,” he pointed his knife at the guys.

“I can make this right,” you said between gasps, spitting up more blood in the process.

“How?” he shouted, raising his voice for the first time. “How can you possibly make this right?” he tightened his grip on the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he brought the blade up with his other hand, pressing it against your neck.

“I-I-I can get your drugs back,” you gasped out, hissing as he pressed the knife down, just enough to draw blood. “I-I know where we were. I-I can show you the coordinates, ta-take you there my-myself.” He kept the knife to your neck, sliding it up as he began to trace your jaw with it. “Just let them walk.” You glanced at Charlie, seeing him shake his head, seeming to realize what you were doing.

“Why would I do that?” he whispered.

“They have nothing to do with this. They’re innocent.”

“I can’t be letting witnesses just walk about,” he shook his head.

“You owe them.”

“Excuse me?” he pressed the knife harder, drawing more blood from you.

“They saved my life, they are the reason I’m here, without them you wouldn’t have any chance of getting your drugs back,” you spoke rapidly. You knew you were grasping for straws, but you were just trying to get Charlie and the others out of there alive. “And if you don’t,” you tilted your head down to meet his gaze, ignoring the way the knife dug into your skin. “I won’t tell you shit, and you can kiss your merchandise goodbye.”

He stared at you unblinking for what felt like hours. You weren’t sure if he was going to take you up on your offer or just shove the knife in your throat and watch you bleed out. Suddenly he released his grip, letting you stumble back. He smirked, chuckling to himself as he pointed the knife at you.

“Release them,” he ordered, pointing the knife from the man guarding the door to the boys. The guard looked at the boss but didn’t move from his post. “Now!”

The guard was across the room in a few steps, quickly uncuffing each of the guys before leading them to the door. He gave three knocks before the door opened and the other man from before led them all out. Charlie looked back, trying to stay in the room before he was shoved out, the metal door slamming behind them. You released a breath, you might have guaranteed your death after you followed through on your end but at least Charlie was safe, at least Mabel would be safe.

“For someone so clever it sure was stupid for you to drop my drugs into the ocean,” your boss said, back to his casual voice as if you were doing everyday business with him.

“There was a storm,” you said. “If we didn’t drop it the whole boat would have gone down. I just… I didn’t want anyone to die.”

He nodded as if he understood. “And look where that got you.”

You looked down, nodding. You couldn’t help but agree with him, look where it got you. You dropped the drugs with the intent to save everyone but because of that you got shot, your crew was killed, innocent people were forced to be involved because they saved you, you turned their lives upside down, and almost got them all killed. If you had just stopped, if you had jut not tried to be a hero, if you had just listened to your captain, maybe everything would have been fine. Maybe the drugs would have tipped the boat, and they would have been lost anyway, there were life rafts so maybe you and the crew would have been fine, or maybe you all would have been lost as sea, that certainly would have been more deserved.

“Before we get started though,” he said, turning to face you again. Your heart dropped at the look in his eyes, already knowing what was coming before he finished his words. “You still need to pay for your betrayal.”

That was your only warning before his fist met your face. Before you even had time to recover, he dealt another punch. He grabbed you by the back of the shirt and tossed you against the wall. You caught yourself as best as you could with your still tied hands, only able to recover enough to lean back against the wall. He took off his suit jacket, tossing it to the side before rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. That was the last thing you remembered clearly seeing before he was hitting you again, you ended up on the ground at one point, coughing up blood as your vision got more and more blurry. With a final kick to your face everything went black.

#mabel finestkind #mabel (finestkind)#mabel x reader #mabel x fem!reader #mabel x you #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #finestkind 2023 #luck runs out

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deblklesb · 6 months

Text

[I Want You So Bad — Ellie x Reader, Pt. 1]

[AFAB!reader, friends to lovers, fluff MDNI] (part 2 here)

Summary: Ellie likes you so much, and it's crazy how you don't even notice it.

a/n: omg i finally did it!!!! it took me too long, so sorry anon, but it's finally here!! its a two part thing, I'll post part2 soon! hope you enjoy it, please let me know if you do!

cw: fluff and pining. as always i don't want minors interacting.

not proof read | reblogs are highly appreciated

It's a painfully hot day in Jackson, Ellie is wondering how Shimmer is doing down in the barn and contemplating about going there to spend some time with her beloved horse. The sun gives everything an extra glimmer and the roads hold small puddles of fata morganas, amusing her as always - astronomy it's her main target of curiosity but physics it's there too.

While she fixes her shoelaces and checks her pockets for the keys, she also looks at the small handmade candy wrapped in a simple paper, standing on the bench next to her door. The grocery brings back delightful memories of when you runned up to her with the cutest smile, a hand in her direction.

"Ellie, I made this candy from a recipe I found in one of those books, took some for you", you had no idea how that gesture reached the Williams girl right into the heart.

"Oh, thanks…!" She looked down at the brownish treat. It seemed to be so tasteful and you were known amongst your friends to be a very talented cook.

"So, are you coming to the Tipsy Bison tonight?" You put your hands in your back pockets. Ellie could only see a part of your tattoo coming out of your short sleeve, wondering what the entirety of it would look like.

"Uh, yeah, I guess. If I can finish all my tasks", she would definitely drop them if that meant to see you.

"Okay, cool! See ya later, then", and just like that you left with a small wave and a sweet smile.

Inside, Ellie beat herself up for not asking something like "oh do you want me there?" to slightly make a move and test the waters. You would always leave her speechless, lagging, absolutely fumbling on her words to even put a goof full sentence out.

On this incredibly hot day, she thinks it's finally the time to maybe taste your candy. She hasn't done it yet because… Maybe because she was holding onto the mere fact that you thought about her and went out of your way to give her some handmade candy. It was such a sweet act, it made her daydream for days and literally kick her feet when laying on her bed that night, thinking about your pretty eyes and cute lips.

Deciding to save for that night, she finally heads out to the hot weather and bright sun. The sunglasses she found on a supply run unfortunately were broken, she could make good use of them now.

It didn't take long to reach the barns, the shadow of the roof presenting a hope to cool down. The horses seemed to not mind the heat that much, and today was bathing day.

"Morning, Els", Pedro, a 15 year-old boy waved at her. She smiled back, finally facing Shimmer on her usual spot. But the horse wasn't alone.

In the barn, a brush in hand, stands you. Mindlessly stroking Shimmer's fur in circles, your back is not fully out since you're still with a tank on but Ellie can finally see the rest of your tattoo; it's a big tiger, an image mostly on your back with just a paw sticking on your front, under the clavicle - the part Ellie could always see. Today, it moves as your muscles do the same and you murmur a random melody, eyes careful to put the attention on the horse's fur.

The brunette has to take a deep breath before proceeding into the barn, trying to pull out that chill, laid back facade to hide the way you make her almost melt into a puddle.

"Hey, see you got up early today" She has you stopping on your tracks to look over your shoulder, immediately smiling fondly when seeing her.

"Yeah, I got the bathing job today so I didn't want to leave it until later", dirt falls from Shimmer's fur as you brush it. She's not the dirtiest one usually, but after some runs between the last bath and this one a significant amount of dirt is coming off. "Where have you been putting her to, by the way?"

"Oh, we found an old ranch somewhere west and I decided to let her run around a bit. It made a big cloud of dirt around her", Ellie chuckles as she gets closer from the horse, patting her neck. "This big girl enjoyed herself very much"

"Well, that's good, though", you go back into looking straight to your front, oblivious to how Ellie's gaze falls on your tranquil figure.

She captures the bridge of your nose and your adorable cheeks, the ones she just wanna kiss all the time so badly. Your hair, away from your face today, your attractive lips and the prettiest eyes she has ever seen. With your back to the barn's door, you almost glow in front of the light coming from outside. Like a divine vision, straight out of a fantasy book, demanding to be worshiped by the auburn haired girl. She feels her chest tightening and that feeling spreading to her arms and stomach, like it always does when she's around you; a visceral need to touch you in any possible way.

Shimmer ruffs and bumps her snout into Ellie's face, almost like she's calling her back to Earth.

"Easy", Ellie chuckles again, now trying to hide the last moment. From who? She doesn't know, there's just you, her and the horses here, but she feels so exposed whenever she's around you.

"It might sound crazy, but I do believe these horses have personality", you suddenly comment, turning to grab a comb.

"Right?! Oh, Jesse keeps saying I am crazy, that they're just horses, but I do feel this too! One time Shimmer laughed when she saw me fall. Like, a horse laugh, but I swear it was a laugh", and just like that, Ellie's loosening up.

Your laugh fills the space as you stand next to Shimmer to comb her black tail. Now facing your back again, Ellie takes in how your back muscles press your dark tank top and how your waist seems to call her hands to grab it, hold you from behind close to her chest. The desire to have your scent consuming her mind is so strong, she thinks she might actually pass out.

This is getting so out of hand.

"So", she clears her throat, looking around for another comb to work on Shimmer's mane. "Are you going to be here all day?"

"Tipsy Bison at six", you don't even care to look back at her, focused on the tail.

"Do you ever sleep?"

"Yeah, very well, actually", you chuckle. "Tomorrow I have nothing in the morning, so I can compensate"

"Oh… I thought we could, y'know…", she's trying to collect the millions of thoughts running around her mind at the same time, trying to not fuck this up. "Have a sleepover one of those nights… When you're free, I mean… But we don't have to if you don't want it- it was just an idea"

"It's a great idea!" The way you smile, turning to look at her, has her heart clenching. It's so genuine and sweet, just like you always do whenever you see her coming around and go compliment her. Do you even know the way she loses balance at each one of those acts? "The last sleepover was so long ago. We should call Dina and Jesse too"

"Yeah, absolutely", she rests her head on Shimmer's neck when you turn your attention to the tail again, cursing silently.

The rest of Shimmer's bath was calm, you both kept talking about whatever. At one point, when Ellie was rinsing the horse's back legs, Shimmer just threw her tail on the girl's face, making you laugh out loud and the auburn haired girl look stunned.

In the end you both got out a little cooled down due to splashes of water, past midday after bathing all horses. It was easier with two people, after all.

"So, I guess I'll let you get going to change and go to work…"

"Aren't you coming to the Bison tonight?"

"Oh, yeah, I guess I'll pass by", she tried to sound chill and nonchalant, not revealing how she always planned to go there as long as she wasn't patrolling.

"Okay, see you there then!" And you fucking leaned to kiss her on the cheek, smiling while you waved goodbye and turned in your street, leaving Ellie dumbfounded.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

If a stare could create holes, Jesse and Dina would cause trypophobia in anyone. Ellie was sitting across from them on the table, holding a beer bottle so tightly that it could break at any giving moment. Standing next to the table was you, listening to their shitty excuses about not being able to attend to the sleepover, oblivious to their real intentions.

"Oh, I get it, it's fine. Guess it'll be just me and Ellie then", you shrug, smiling to the auburn haired girl. She smiles back immediately under your gaze. "We'll, I have to go back to behind the counter, go talk to me if y'all need anything"

And she stares at your back while you walk away, always looking so fine while handling the objects behind the long wooden table.

"You're welcome, by the way", it's Jesse who says it, smirking.

"I'd beat the shit out of you if we weren't in public", she groans, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, come on! It will be nice having her all by yourself for a night, uh? Then you can silently pin over her while pretending to pay attention to some random ass movie", Dina is looking up like she's pondering the scenario.

"Shut up", her hands start to sweat with anticipation, all the possibilities running through her mind.

What you'll be wearing, what you both will watch, if you are going to sleep next to her, if she'll be able to hold you close absolutely in a friendly way, if you'll laugh and have a good time with her. Ellie thinks about the tragedies implicated in being alone with you for the whole night, how embarrassing it can be, how she'll combust just by looking at you so closely, yet, so far.

"Stop overthinking. Just wear those flannels, she likes it"

"No, she does not!" Her face warms up, because of the alcohol, of course.

"She already complimented you ten times about that shirt", Jesse points out.

It was true, though. And each and every time, Ellie almost melted into a puddle in front of your chaste gaze. If you only knew what ran through her mind when she looked at you…

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

This was messy, and Ellie didn't know what to do anymore.

At some point of the night, you decided to play a game and Ellie just agreed - because what could go wrong? Not going far from the known route, you opted for a Q&A game in which each one asked a question and the other one had to answer it or respond with another question. It would be nice and silly, if the given situation wasn't hard enough for Ellie.

You were sitting in front of her, legs crossed on the couch, in a tank top and the smallest shorts Ellie has ever seen you on - which was cool, it was okay, she could manage that because she was already used to holding her shit together next to you. But everytime you moved around, for some reason, that night, she just wanted to pull you close once and for all. An inexplicable energy was emerging from the whole situation and she couldn't grasp it properly, but it made her restless.

Her hands tingle whenever you lightly hold her arm or her leg, she starts to wonder why you were so touchy generally, but tonight more than ever. An indescribable feeling comes from her guts each time you laugh and lean on. She might as well be going crazy.

So, it was already hard enough. But then you asked her if she was currently into some girl around town and that was the first time Ellie responded with another question.

"Why do you wanna know?" It sounded like she was caught off guard, and that bought your attention.

"I was just curious… But your answer makes me think that you actually are", you smirk, playful.

"I didn't say I was"

"Didn't say you weren't either", damn you for being clever.

"But that doesn't mean anything…" The auburn haired girl looked away, resting her arm on the back of the couch.

"Is it Dana?"

"No" Dana was another woman that regularly worked on the Tipsy Bison. She was pretty and polite, but Ellie wasn't interested in her - not with you around. And she was so desperate to direct the conversation somewhere else that she missed the way your voice changed.

"So there is someone, it's just not Dana?"

"Why are you so interested?"

Why were you so interested? It was because of the game, right? Your only concern now was the fact that Ellie didn't answer your initial question, so you had to dig to the bottom of this topic. That sudden sting on your stomach when thinking about Ellie pining over Dana was just the prospect of your close friend having a crush on your coworker and not telling you. Absolutely.

It probably had nothing to do with the way you were weirdly infatuated by Ellie tonight, with her hair on a bun and a halfway buttoned up flannel - with nothing but a top underneath it. Or how she seemed to glow under the warm light of her room and her presence brought the biggest comfort you've ever felt in weeks. Or how her lips seemed so attractive right now, calling for your sight when she nervously bit the bottom one. Little scars were splared around her face amongst the freckles, gifts from a bunch of branches that accidentally crashed into her face once, during a patrol.

"Because… I'm your friend and I would like to know when you're interested in someone. I mean, we tell this type of stuff to each other, right?"

Not all the stuff, Ellie thought.

"Yeah, I guess. Well, you actually have never told me something like that"

"That, my beloved, is because I have nothing to tell. You know it, I'm not interested in anybody as for now"

"Or for any other time on this town"

"Ouch!" You chuckled, lightly punching her shoulder. "You're not getting away from this topic. I'll name every woman our age and you'll tell me when it's the one"

The auburn haired girl tried very hard not to express any compromising expressions, especially after the list ended and you didn't say your own name.

You couldn't think of any other person that fit into the category, and that was odd. Because if there was someone, then it should be one of those.

"Oh, you're lying!"

"I'm not!"

"You just said 'no' to every single name"

"That's the reality of the situation"

"But there is someone?!"

"You said that, not me", she shrugged.

"Alright", you seemed resigned, looking away from her green eyes. "If you don't want to tell me, that's fine"

A sting got it right into Ellie's chest. She liked you too much to let you be this way, but at the same time she didn't want to tell you. The amount of terrible things that could happen; losing you and your friendship was at the top of this list, and it was bad enough.

"It's not it, I swear", Ellie collected all the strength to softly hold your face; now she was doing it as your friend who didn't want to see you sad. She turned it so you could face her, stare at her eyes full of vivid green. "I swear, you didn't say the name"

"Okay", you sigh, trying to understand what was that feeling on your stomach that grew while her fingers still supported your chin.

"Now… Wanna watch another movie?" Her thumb caressed your face with tenderness, inside she hoped this made you less uneasy.

"Yeah", it got cold when she retracted her hands to reach for the DVD options you both picked for tonight. "You can chose it now"

[dividers by @cafekitsune]

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader #tlou ellie #ellie the last of us #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams the last of us 2 #ellie williams oneshot #the fanfic of us #ficwriting #deblklesb

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guzzlingplastic111 · 4 months

Text

~That Dress~

MINORS DNI

part two of that you weren't mine- you and kit are like together now- its the readers turn now 🤭

someone gave me the idea of a more dominate kit and I couldn't agree more. she's so cocky and we love her for it. I couldn't figure out how to like "reply to them" so I'm putting it here-

also guys- is anyone obsessed with her nose ??? she has such a nice nose I love it

After that night, kit had been consumed by the realization that you were hers. And that she was yours. Not a moment had been wasted after that. Brief unexpected moments of her tugging you into a broom closet before becoming lost in the frenzied moment of kisses and breaths.

It seemed that while jade had gotten one problem fixed, she now had to deal with an entirely different new and unexpected one. From going to extended lengths to get you both to stop bickering and fighting, to finally get rid of the constant migraine, to having to find a way to get you both off of each other.

Poor jade had found herself in many unfortunate situations where she opened a broom closet for a bucket or a broom, only to find you and kit entangled in each others arms, or that one time in the barn when she had gone to get her saddle.

That experience seemed to have been enough for you both to dial it down a little bit, save them embarrassment from each other of stumbling across another situation like that.

But it didn’t stop you two entirely.

One night, after a recent ball, kit had decided to lure you into her room through a more creative scheme. Instead of just bringing you to her room, she wanted you to find yourself there.

Upon the arrival to your room, you had been cornered by a couple of servants, muttering apologies and a messy explanation as to what happened to your room. Nevertheless, you went in anyway and saw that your bed had been completely destroyed. The frame had been reduced to nothing but large chunks of wood. It seemed almost as if someone had went in there with a sword and swung it around.

Not wanting to spend the night in a random bed, you found yourself venturing to Kit’s room, the skirts of your dress bunched up in your tired hands as you walked. You knocked on kits door, stepping back as you waited for her to answer. A quick shuffle from behind the door sounded before she opened it, hair messy as well as her shirt, as if she had hastily thrown it over.

“Hey,” she greeted, voice breathy.

“Hi,” you replied, “so…someone practically demolished my bed and I was wondering if I could…sleep here?”

“Yeah,” kit nodded and opened the door wider, allowing you inside.

You didn’t fail to notice how her eyes fluttered at the sight of you in your dress, even though she had seen it hours earlier at the ball.

She shut the door behind you with a snap, causing your attention to snap towards her and the lust full look in her eyes. You swallowed back a nervous smile. Kit looked like she was going to eat you alive.

It didn’t stop you from your stomach flipping with anticipation. Before you could even get a word out from your lips, kit hd you in her arms once more, soft lips pressed against yours. She kissed you as if she had not seen you for weeks. As if this had been the first time in years she had glanced upon you once more. You cupped the sides of her face, kissing her back before she pulled away.

Kit instantly attacked your neck, leaving a warm trail of hot wet kisses down the side of your neck, her tongue darting in and out between her lips to touch at your skin. You panted beneath her, growing warm and skin buzzing. Your legs were starting to grow weak as you clung onto her, groaning softly when she sucked in the right spot on your neck.

“Kit,” you mewled out.

Her hands gripped at you harder, moving back up to kiss your lips once more before you stumbled backward, trying to show her where you wanted to go.

“You looked ravishing in that dress,” kit mumbled against your skin “I had to spend a whole torturous evening just watching you in that.”

You shuddered, gasping once your legs hit the edge of her bed. Kit peeled herself away from you, her fingers working the back of your dress before you let it fall to the ground, your chest heaving with deep breaths of excited anticipation. Kit’s eyes slowly walked up and down your now exposed body (im not going through the fantasy undergarment crap okay) making you feel more exposed. You shyly shifted your eyes away from her, using your hand to cover up some part of your body when kit reached forward to grab your hand, a taunting smile on her face.

“Oh I don’t think so, darling,” she grinned before pushing you back into the bed.

Kit was kissing you again, and you were kissing her back. Your hands went in her hair while her fingers softly grazed at your body, nails biting in too soft places, leaving half moon circles in their wake. You groaned into her mouth, body shifting underneath her as you swiped your legs together, hoping to gain some friction from how painfully slow she was going.

“What’s the matter?” Kit muttered against your lips, “are you that needy?”

You whined, bucking your naked hips against hers. Kit grinned before giving you a sweet kiss in your lips. While she was still looking int your eyes, kit slowly pushed her ring finger into you, watching as your head fall back, eyes rolling to the back of your head, a loud moan coming from you.

“Fuck, kit,” you cried out.

Kit begins to move in and out of you at a fast pace, watching you as your eyebrows crunch up together, elbows propped you up as you fought to keep yourself steady.

“Let it out, baby,” kit instructed as she kissed at your breast.

Following her words, you groaned loudly, feeling her finger inside of your where you had needed her most. Your body burned before her, chest rising and falling as you swelled up with pleasure inside of you.

“Kit,” you cried out as you felt her lips attach to your nipple, her warm tongue swirling around it.

You moaned loudly, cut off by another one of her fingers sliding into your wet pussy. unconsciously, you grabbed at her arm to try to steady your shaking body. Your legs shook from under kit, her never fading smirk growing as she watched you fall apart.

“Keep going, gorgeous,” kit purred “I know you can, you’ve done it before.”

“Kit please,” you breathed out, not caring with how needy you sounded.

“Yeah?” She leaned in closer to you, continuing to move her steady fingers in and out of you “please what, love?”

“Fuck,” you groaned, dropping your head back on the pillows, “me.”

She gave you a sloppy kiss, bringing you closer. Kit went at a fast pace, having you moan against her lips was something she didn’t think she could ever get used to, not that it was something she would want to get used to. Your arousal was dripping from you as your hands clenched at the sheets. You felt something inside of your stomach begin to tightened, making your sounds come out faster and shorter.

In the midst of your build up, you felt kit pull out of you. You looked up at her with disappointment, only to see her lowering her face between your legs. Without another word, you felt kit lick against your folds, ripping a shuddering whine from you.

Kit ate you out like a starved woman. She dove her skillful tongue between your thighs, swirling it to drag out your orgasm.

“Kit!” You cried out, your hands flying to her hair.

Her hands grasped at your thighs, keeping them apart as she ate you out. In a matter of seconds, you had came, not comprehending the rippling pleasure that had tore through your body. Kit pulled away from you, wiping her mouth before giving you a quick kiss.

“You did great,’ she whispered against your neck.

You hummed in response, your body falling limp with fatigue. You only managed to get a few words out from how tired you were,

“I love you, kit.”

#hazel callahan #ruby cruz #bottoms movie #lesbian #bottoms 2023 #bottoms movie 2023 #wlw #kit tanthalos #kit tanthalos x reader #willow series #willow 2022

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guess-that-ship · 21 days

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S10 Finals

Lightning Strikes Twice

The Blade has known only violence their whole life. Raised from childhood to be a weapon, they're an efficient, brutal killer. They strike like lightning, swift and deadly, with no room for anything besides the bloodshed they've spent their existence wading through. And they're perfectly fine with it, until they meet the Rope, who looks at them and sees something no one else has: a person, worthy of attention for more than the violence they reap.

The Rope is a cunning man, charming and roguish with a quick smile and a quicker trigger finger. He has big dreams for how to fix a world that's rotten to the core, but no means to accomplish them… until he meets the Blade. What starts as fascination turns to admiration, as he realizes this broken person raised by death might be exactly what he needs to burn away the rot.

Lightning strikes and a fire ignites. The Blade cuts down anyone the Rope asks them to, and the Rope lavishes them with love and praise for every life they take in his name. He gives them purpose and identity outside of what they were created for, and for that they are determined to always stay by the side. They say love changes you for the better, and the Blade is inclined to agree.

The Time Goddess and the Time Traveler

cw: spoilers

The goddess of time manifests herself on the mortal plane to take care of a problem with a villain who is messing with the fabric of time. While making her way to fight this villain, she meets a time-traveler who is also out to stop this villain. Though they are on the same side, her frustration with his flippancy around the time travel causes her to snap at him, but… he reacts unexpectedly by flirting with her. And she's never been caught by surprise like that before, being used to seeing all of time at once.

When the villain is defeated, the time-traveler should be erased from the timeline, since the future he traveled back from no longer exists. However, the goddess decides to keep him in the timeline as she's grown fond of him, though it is to her detriment, because she wants to keep being surprised. This unstable arrangement continues as the two of them grow to love each other, and she grows to love the life they have together… until the time-traveler begins to fade from the timeline anyway. To save him, the goddess ultimately decides to give up her godhood to remain with him, and to truly live a mortal life with the people she cares about.

friendship in solitude

cw: bullying, suicide implication, spoilers

ever since he was a child, K has been shunned. everyone at school saw his ideas as dangerous, and him as weird. A is in the same boat. their way of dressing was thought to be weird since childhood, too. at home, K had his mother and the kid next door, and A had their family. but at school, both were alone. until junior high school.

one time, in junior high, A went up to the rooftop for "no reason", and found K. the two became friends, and when they were at school, they would meet on the rooftop. they kept each other alive. while they were alone for the most part, they had each other. everyone else thought of them as freaks, but they thought of each other as friends.

however, K was a year older, and so eventually, he graduated from junior high without A. that year was awful for both of them. A would go to the rooftop, and remember… their only friend had already graduated. K wasn't better off, as nobody in his new school would be friends with him, either. they were both back were they started: friendless. shunned. alone.

the year had passed, and a new one began. A had now graduated from junior high. K moved schools. it just so happened that they were now in the same high school. they'd changed quite a bit in that year, but now, they had each other once again. they had other friends, as well, but what's important is that, while they were still seen as weirdos by some, they had reunited with the one who had once been their sole comfort at school.

#s10 #tournament poll #s10 finals #spoilers

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adventuringblind · 7 months

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Drive With You Forever

Chapter 8.5: Play Rough

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri

Chapter summary: four go two a bar, two end up covered in marks

Warnings: PinV, dom/sub, rough sex, marking, possessive behavior, sub space, hair pulling, titles (daddy, sir)

Notes: gotta have some self-discovery, ya know?

Masterlist

This was not how she thought their night would be ending. Just stopping in at the after-party and then coming back to the room for some well-deserved sleep.

There was no sleep happening in this hotel room tonight.

They had gone to the after party. She was wearing a dress in a pretty blue color that she felt confident in. It wasn't revealing. The insecure part of her brain told her that she would be an embarrassment if she showed off her skin and scars anymore than she already was.

They all looked good, in her honest opinion. The other three had her feeling all sorts of things with just their clothes.

The group had split into pairs. Her and Lando went up to the bar. Nothing strong for them, neither of them quite like the feeling of alcohol.

Charles and Max have a tendency to keep putting away the alcohol and the younger two end up dragging them back to bed. So they get the privilege of going first while the olders meet up with their mates.

"You look pretty tonight. Is there a special someone you're dressing for?" He winks comically bad. He knows the answer to his question. She'd done it for herself, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to try and make her blush.

The reason they travel in pairs is because places like this have a tendency to lower people's filters. They up the creepy and stupid factor by too much on most occasions.

Her first experience at a club was horrendous. She was not prepared for the amount of close proximity encounters and men touching her waist.

She didn't know why she flinched so hard. Almost as if her body was on auto pilot for something she had no clue about.

Regardless, he touched her and tried to steal her away from Max. His mistake, really. The Dutch doesn't particularly like sharing with strangers.

Max is possessive. It's not in a bad way. He's just extremely protective. She'd confided in him and had shared her fears with him. If something made her scared or uncomfortable, then he had every intention of fixing the problem.

He'd punched him, and then they left.

Max had done something similar with Lando, though much less aggressive.

The Brit struggles to make himself heard at times. His natural instinct is to keep the peace if someone gets aggressive with him. Unless it's him being a brat on purpose to get Max to be rough with him.

Again, they'd decided to go out with some friends to a club. Lando had found himself alone at the bar waiting for a drink. His loneliness lasted seconds.

A woman, who she'd found beautiful herself, had approached him. She'd started the unwanted advances on him, and he could not get the idea through to her that he wasn't interested.

She'd continued, though. She went as far as to run her fingers along his patches of skin that his t-shirt didn't cover.

He wanted to scream at her to stop, but his voice kept getting caught in his throat.

She'd seen it escalate farther. The vision hitting her like a train. She'd tapped Max's should and simply said 'Lando' and 'help'.

Max was gone in an instant, putting himself between Lando and the obnoxious woman. Then, he proceeded to tell her off. He didn't care who was looking. If someone asked, he was defending a friend.

Charles and the female ended up making a trip to the store that night. Lando had so many hickies and a good few that needed to be covered.

After those couple incidents, they travel in pairs. It didn't matter who or where. They always have a buddy, as Lando likes to call it.

But even the buddy system can't always save them.

Despite the empty seats at the bar, a couple of similar age to them sit down on either side of the two. It felt oddly like a trap, and she was already uncomfortable. She catches how Lando drops his hand down to the side and she discreetly takes it.

Her and Lando had come up with a secret language a while back. It allows them to talk during conversations with other people or about Charles and Max when they are in the room.

She threw a few rapid taps into his palm. 'Unsafe'

'Copy. Leave?'

Before she can respond, the two are striking up an incredibly forward conversation.

"Are you two together?" Smirks the male.

For publicty reasons. "No, just friends."

"What a shame, you're both just too adorable." Purrs the woman next to her. "Maybe you want to come get some advice about bedroom performance? Or just to have some fun."

She feels sick. "I have a boyfriend." She settles for. A line Hana actually told her to use. The majority of unwanted advances can be stopped with just that line. Even if they keep talking, they are less likely to try anything.

"And it’s not the fine, young man?" The man on the other side of Lando starts messing with Lando's collar. His freeze response kicking in hard.

"No, but he'll be over here shortly." She tries to smile politely, so this doesn't escalate.

"But you're both so pretty. I really don't want to let this opportunity go to waste." The girl assumes that the woman now pawing at the hem of her dress and thighs is delusional.

Her response is much different from Lando. She has a tendency to fight if people start touching her. More aggressive than she likes, but its sort of deserved on their end.

She's shoving th woman away from her. Batting her hands away from her thighs. Yet the woman still persists, and she can see that they are using it as a distraction to put something in the drinks in front of them.

Max and Charles enter the bar area and see them struggling. Charles is quick to grab Max's shoulder to stop him from doing something rash.

Both of them stride over, and it looks oddly intimidating. She man and woman halt their actions as they approach.

"I don't think they like that very much." Charles crosses his arms over his chest.

"I'm giving you a chance to get away." Seethes Max.

Then, the couple is scrambling to get away. Leaving the younger two in shock and distress.

She vaugly remembers something about 'Claiming them' being said on the ride back to the hotel.

Which is where they are now. Clothes scattered about. The sun is gone, and the only light is now a dim lamp.

"I feel like I've done something wrong." Admits the Brit. He's sitting on the bed in his boxers, waiting for anything to happen. His back is to her, and she's sitting in the exact same position on the opposite side of the bed.

"Nope, but that interaction had us wanting you both." Expresses Charles. "Might leave a few marks to show everyone that you're taken."

Charles winks at her and leaves her a blushy mess. Sometimes, she hates what they do to her. Yet she simultaneously loves it.

"You know Charles, I think we ought to remind them why it is they chose us and not people like them." He suggests.

Max basically manhandles Lando into where he wants him. Underneath and pleading with his eyes.

Max attacks his collar bone. She can her the Dutch doing his best to mark him. She can't see them since her back is turned, but she listens.

Charles eyes her up and down before doing the same. Though he is much more gentle. They are all gentle with her. Sometimes, she wishes they'd be rough with her also.

She looks away from Charles for a second and gazes over at the other two with jealousy.

"Words, amour."

"Can we- do like they're doing? I guess." She stutters out.

Charles grabs her chin and brings her gaze back to him. "You want me to be rough?"

She nods yes eagerly. The anticapation building up inside her is insane. She feels like she might spontaneously combust.

"Tell me if you don't like it and we'll stop, okay?"

"Okay."

Then Charles is doing the same to her. Tossing her limbs around to get her situated where he wants her. He trails kisses and marks a path down to the waistband of her underwear. He peels them off of her and tosses them aside.

"I think someone likes this." He winks. Once again, leaving her to blush.

He teases her with the tip of his finger. She almost whines at the feeling, but she can't as he decides to thrust his fingers inside her with an intense speed.

She looks next to her where Lando is getting more of the same treatment from Max. The Brits moans only grow from watching her and Charles.

"I think they like this, Charlie." Smirks Max. The cheeky Dutch is listening to some of his favorite sounds at the moment, and he never wants it to end.

She can hardly register what's happening. Charles has more than one finger in her, and she knows she's not going to last much longer.

Much to her dismay, he pulls out of her. She looks at him with curiosity as he starts stripping himself of his clothes.

Max turns his attention to the Monegasque and pulls him in for a sloppy kiss. He helps Charles out of his clothes and then discards his own. It's clumsy, but they could care less.

She takes a second to look at Lando. The bright red marks already blossoming around his skin. She can't help herself and reaches out to caress the biggest mark on his collarbone. She'd had a fascination with how a bruise can be pretty.

Lando throws her a smile. Her curiosity is one of his favorite things about her.

The older two finally turn their attention back to them. The look on endearingly as the female continues to study each mark. On the Brit.

"You wanna leave one?" Max asks her. She'd never left a mark on any of them. To scared she'd hurt them or do it wrong.

But seeing how Lando is enjoying it makes her want to. She nods her head yes, and the odd bit of excitement of doing something new comes back.

"Why don't you put it on the bottom of his neck. He likes it there." Max guides her, and she does as suggested.

As soon as she her lips hit the spot, Lando is a mess again. One of his hands finding the back of her head and strokes her hair.

She takes her time deliberately licking, sucking, and biting. She can feel Lando squirming and feeling the moans in his throat. It only intensifies when the older two find their way back to them. Their hands now roaming everywhere.

Max is the one that pulls her off. "See, isn't that a pretty mark?" She smiles at her work and the out of breath Lando.

Then Lando lands a kiss to her lips. It's sloppy and hungry, and she has no idea what to do next.

Max and Charles guide them. Her lips are still on Landos even as they are moved.

The fact that they've done this before and it still feels new every time makes a mess of her. Charles is taking her from behind. she and Lando are attempting to have contact, but it's difficult when he's also being taken by Max. It's rough, and it's hot, and she hasn't even finished and is still in a state of bliss.

Charles' grip on her hips and thighs is bruising, and his pace is once again relentless. She can't help but fall further into the mattress.

Charles doesn't let that slide and is pulling on her hair to bring her back up. It hurts a little, but she likes it and can stop the heavy moan that leaves her lips because of it.

"Look at Lando. Look at the mess you've helped make of him." He leans down and whispers into her skin.

She wants to think about it more. She wants to think about Lando's whines of pleasure and the sounds of Max and Charles' sloppy kisses above her.

But she can't because she's fuzzy in the head and on the verge of falling over the edge into complete bliss.

"Can I- please- need to."

Charles redirects his attention to her. His hand. Slips around the front, forcing her jaw upwards as Max mirrors the motion. She is now staring straight into Lando's eyes.

She might die here, she thinks.

"Beg for it. Need to hear how bad you want it Chéri." Charles punctuates with a deep guttural moan.

"Please, I want it so bad- please, Daddy Mm need it." The name does things to Charles, and she knows it.

The title of sorts came before Lando joined. It was originally Max's, and occasionally, it still is, but when they are both dominant like this, then Max is sir, and Charles is daddy because they have to differentiate somehow.

Regardless, she lets it slip and then Charles' hips stutter. She registers the permission she needs, and then she's gone. Lando is falling with her. She would love to see it, but her vision is going blurry as Charles gets her through the high.

It's all heavy panting for a moment. Then Lando is whining, and Max and Charles are whispering to each other.

She sometimes hates herself for getting so deep into the headspace that she can't think of anything else. And the not lack of touch is making her want to cry.

Until the familiar feeling of Max's rough hand is palming at her ass. He flips her with ease. Something she's yet to get used to. Then, he caresses her face gently. Lando is already moaning heavily once again, followed by the familiar moans of Charles.

"Gonna let sir take care of you, yeah?" And who is she to say no? She mumbles a slew of 'yes' and 'please', but it's not at all coherent.

"Want sir in me, please." She manages through small pants and whines. And Max is never one to waste time. She's already stretched, so he doesn't wait. He immediately sets an inhuman pace.

She finds her gaze drifting to other places only for it to be brought back to Max by force. "Eyes stay on me." Somehow, the eye contact only increases the pleasure.

It's like her mind has overridden itself. Wanting nothing more than to hear the praise she craves and is willing to do anything to get it.

"Don't need to ask."

The part of her mind that can't form coherent words becomes relieved. She's not sure she could ask if she wanted to.

Max's hands grip into her hip and thigh. Again, she can hear more than she sees. Lando has found his peek again, presumably, by the whiny scream he lets out. The next is Charles, who is shockingly not as vocal tonight. Yet the French swearing gives him away.

Her eyes are still firmly placed on Max. His eyes glazed over with nothing but lust. He presses his body further into hers. The skin on skin lighting every one of her nerves on fire.

Max grips onto her collar bone with his teeth. The suddenness of it causes her back to arch. Her vision goes fuzzy as she finds herself jumping off the ledge into a pool of bliss and pleasure.

It's beautiful. Her boys are beautiful. It's the only thought her mind can grab onto as Max slows.

He pulls out of her slowly, then crawls down the length of her body. Kissing every scar along the way. The feeling makes her ever more drowsy.

He takes the opportunity to bite and suck in a few different places. Leaving marks every Charles and Lando had yet to leave any. Her body was clearly marked.

"No falling asleep yet. We need to clean up and get liquids in us." Max pulls himself away from her, and she almost cries at no longer being able to feel anyone's skin on hers.

Charles splays his ringed fingers on her thigh. The new sensation makes her shiver.

The two are exchanging words and endearing looks. Charles and Max are cute like that.

"We're going to clean up and grab a few things. We'll be back in two minutes to help the two of you, okay?" She shakes her head yes, not completely understanding, but she heard him, which is the important part right now.

Charles replaces his hand with Lando's. Who ultimately just drags her body into his for more contact.

Something about post sex cuddles makes her feel fluttery. Specifically with Lando because usually he's just as out of it as her.

"Don't think I'll be walking tomorrow." He mumbles into her shoulder. "Did you like it rough? I'll beat 'em up if you didn't."

"It was... fun? I'm not sure how else to describe it." She forgets sometimes that Sex doesn't have to be serious. She can have fun and still feel good.

"Next, I'll teach you how to say 'make me'."

Max and Charles come out from wherever they and a loud 'absolutely not' can be heard from the two in unison.

Tags: @styles-sunflower @purplephantomwolf @boiohboii @reblog-princess-blog @jayda12 @faithm120601 @eugene-emt-roe @lpab @yaaadii @80sloverry @spongebeck3101 @eviethetheatrefreak @chanshintien @vellicora @hollie911 @pretty-little-bunny382728 @be-your-coffee-pot

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thoughtsfromlayla · 2 months

Text

Love and Loss

Summary: Despite being married for centuries, the two lovers have yet to produce an heir. Desperate for a child, she makes a deal with Phanes, God of Life, unbeknownst to her that motherhood has its own complications much like love and marriage. Now she must find a way to save both her child and her love.

Notes: ~11k words, only lightly edited... so yeah. Also, this is my first time posting any of my writing so I'm nervous as fuuuuck. I keep switching between past and present tense but I think I caught them all but idk. Let me know if I miss any tags or warnings! (There's so many plot holes but shhhh)

Warnings: MDNI - 18+ content, one use of Y/N but written in 3rd person, Reader has a "name" that's only used twice, pregnancy, loss of pregnancy, metaphorical use of surrogation, usage of miscarriage themes, jealousy, P in V, oral (F! receiving), unprotected sex, jealous Dream but that's to be expected really, regency-esque, diverges from cannon

Masterlist

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Despite having been in the Dreaming for so long, its frigid air was something she could never get used to. The temperature always fixed itself somewhere between an unheated house on a winter’s day and a spring day in the shade. Despite her title in the realm, she always felt like a child walking to the kitchen late at night to grab a snack whenever she meanders into the great hall.

The castle of the Dreaming was her home, and she was the owner in every right as her husband. A small black cat accompanies her, its green collar and bell jingle with each step in its preppy trot. Her Lady wore simple garments, a dark green dress with slits to match her feline friend. Its light-weight fabric billows around her with a breeze that never seems to stop and some golden jewelry decorated her neck and arms, all gifts from his Lord. She opted to walk barefoot, skin to soil, so as not to hurt her feet necessarily before the upcoming dinner the Dreaming would host later today—the idea her own entirely that her husband agreed to for her sake.

Her legs move her toward the throne room, where she is certain her husband presides. Still, her feet are cold and thus she picks up the pace. Her steps are lighthearted as she prances on her tiptoes, heels dangling from her fingers.

Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, King of the Nightmare Realms, Prince of Stories. She was sure there were more, but if she were to start listing them all in her head, she’d be stuck there all day. Morpheus was as old as humanity itself, perhaps even older. But as she sees him spread out on his throne, the air of authority is never questioned. Age has only made him more intimidating.

Morpheus commands any space he enters. His shadow fills each nook and cranny it seemed fit, aura chilling and distant. Yet he himself was a beautiful creature indeed. His modern form molded himself into a lean body, distinct muscle lines, and a strong jaw. His dark hair always looked tousled as if he had rolled out of bed a mere minute ago, and despite how often she would run her hair through the silky strands, they never behaved as they should have.

“Wife, mine,” Morpheus greets as she nears the bottom of the stairs. “What ails you to seek me out?”

The Lady smiles and gives a small curtsy before she ascends the curved stairs. “Nothing ails me, my lord. Must one have a reason to see her husband?”

Morpheus lets out an entertained breath before opening his arms in invitation. Another graceful smile appears on her lips as she sits comfortably in his lap, his arms encircling her.

“No, I suppose not,” He replies. He watches as she makes herself as comfortable as she can, leaning her head on his shoulder in a way that wouldn’t mess up her hair. The handmaidens would not stop fussing over it if a single strand was out of place from their original design.

“I simply wish to spend some time with you before our feast. I fear that I will be whisked away as I entertain guests for the evening.” She closes her eyes and steadies herself on the patterned breathing of her husband.

“I will stay by your side if you so command it,” Morpheus says. He runs his thumb in circles on her bare shoulder.

“And have everyone afraid to approach me? With your dark and brooding act?” She jests, her eyes opening briefly to look into his.

He can’t help his eyes rolling at her slight tease. “As you wish, my love.”

The two lovers sit for a moment. The sounds of her cat purring and their breaths mingling fill the air. But serenity such as this never lasts long in a castle like theirs. Lucienne comes from a hallway, presumably, the library’s, dressed up as well. Her coat was tailored to fit her body, her shoes freshly shined, and her glasses cleaned.

She gives a curt bow to the two sovereigns. “My lord, my lady,” She addresses. “The guests will be arriving soon.”

“Thank you, Lucienne,” Her lady says. She reluctantly releases herself from the warmth of her husband and uses the throne as a brace to put on her shoes. Her husband’s hand rests on the small of her back to further assist her.

“I will see you very soon, my king,” She says leaning down to peck his cheek before descending the stairs. She looks back once with another smile and then follows Lucienne to greet the arriving guests.

Morpheus’s eyes watch her figure until she turns a corner. He was still underdressed, his day previously preoccupied with trying to find a certain nightmare. He was simply idling on his throne in a simple black attire with his long coat. After all, a king need not worry about how he looks if he commands respect without golden bribes. With a wave of his hand, sand befalls him and covers him like ivy to a broken wall. When they recede he is dawning a tight button-up undershirt and vest, its fabric weaved with intrinsic cloud-like designs. His coat is now replaced with another of a similar shape and design but resembles cotton instead of the original felt. He fastens the raven cufflinks and smooths down his pants before rising from his throne and going to the Dreaming’s castle garden.

When Morpheus enters the gardens he immediately spots his wife at the entrance, standing underneath a pergola of purple wisterias and climbing hydrangeas. The flowers slowly lean towards the goddess as her presence fuels them by simple proximity. Her cat is nowhere to be seen and probably ran off into the gardens after a rodent caught his eye.

Morpheus slides up beside his wife as she greets the last of the guests arriving. He turns his head towards the decorated table and can see a great spread of gods, goddesses, fairies, nymphs, and other mystical creatures that his wife had managed to befriend—the feeling of her arm wrapping around his redirects his attention.

“Shall we, lord husband?” She gives him another one of her smiles and he understands how the hanging flowers feel. How he had ever lived without her before was still a mystery to him. To be him without her, it is like the Earth without its Sun - and he wishes to always feel the gravitational pull of her love.

Morpheus leads them towards the aggregation of guests, all of whom devote their attention to them.

“Beloved guests,” His wife starts speaking in her nectar-like tone, “Despite what is currently happening in the waking world, we are pleased that you could make time and attend this wondrous dinner.”

The goddess pauses for a brief moment as her guests clap in agreement. When they stop, she continues. “The feast is served buffet style, please eat and enjoy yourself to the fullest content. The Dreaming is here for your convenience.”

With her open palm, a long table appears with dishes of all types. Wreaths and fresh flowers decorate any empty space, which is to say, not much. Lambs, beef, and several types of poultry and fish take centerpieces along the table. Fruits, vegetables, and freshly baked bread weave in between the large plates as palate cleansers and small plates appear on the very corners of the table. A satisfied smile appeared on Her Lady’s face as the guests began grabbing food.

As the dust settles and smaller niches of guests start grouping, Morpheus is displeased when his wife leaves his side to mingle amongst the other gods. He watches from the shadows, small fruit plate in hand, glooming as she smiles with her guests. A hand comes up to hide her mouth as she laughs at something Phanes, God of Life, said. Jealousy brews and grows bitter like spoiled milk.

Morpheus stands, ready to come to his wife’s side in hopes of deterring the god, but before he can a nymph comes forward and gives an exaggerated curtsy. He can’t help the slight roll of his eyes as she begins to talk him up. The nymph’s voice carries a small lithe to it and he becomes unfocused, only noticing the movement of his wife’s green dress and Phanes walking off into the hedge labyrinth.

A frown etches itself onto his face. The nymph choosing to ignore the frown finds the courage to lift a mossy hand to caress his coat’s lapel, to which the Endless notices. Morpheus looks down at the nymph, his hand tightly grabbing into her wrist and dropping it away from him.

“Do not presume you may touch me, insolent child.” His voice is deep and grave as his frown deepens.

The nymph’s face contorted into embarrassment as red poppies boom across her cheeks and ears. She briskly walks away, forgetting to curtsy, with her tail tucked between her legs. The forest nymph looks forward to the next time she meets the Dream King, but she does not know that this will be the last time the doors of the Dreaming will open to her.

Dream makes a beeline towards the hedge labyrinth, taking a right turn as he had witnessed his wife doing moments ago. But, as something as lucid as the Dreaming, the labyrinth path twists and turns in new ways each moment. Morpheus turns left and right based on where he could feel his wife’s presence, but seems that she does not want to be found.

As a deity in her own right, should she so command it, she would not be found. Something that the Endless found infuriating at the moment. What could she possibly be doing with Phanes? Did she invite him for a personal reason? Was the dinner event a ruse so she could speak with him without raising any questions? Well, Morpheus surely was starting to ask questions.

Jealously turned into guilt quickly like the crack of a lightning bolt. Has he not been a good husband? Was she getting bored of their marriage? It has been several centuries, after all. Guilt turned into sadness as the questions he asked started bringing down his spirit. Surely there is something he can do to make her happy again. Surely she is faithful, surely, surely, surely…

Morpheus stands still, the drive to find his wife lost. The hedge leaves shiver as the temperature grows colder from the king’s mood. The lovely sunset leaves the last of its warmth before disappearing, leaving the sky full of stars. He turns around and retraces his steps, if his wife does not want to be found, he will grant her this wish.

Morpheus would never admit to anyone that he mopes. But with his sluggish walk and downturned lips, he clearly was. He sees his wife had made it out of the labyrinth quite some time ago and is already waving her guests goodbye, Phanes nowhere in sight. When she sees him emerging from the hedges, she perks up and excuses herself from her conversation.

“Dear husband, where did you run off to? Too many people in your presence?” She jokes, latching herself onto his arm.

“I was merely looking for you,” Morpheous murmurs. He starts walking with her back to the castle.

He waits as his wife takes a pause, slowing down in step. “You followed me into the labyrinths?”

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting her to say, but it certainly wasn’t that.

“Yes…” He draws out, trying to tread lightly, hoping that she would open up without much prompting. “I saw you and Phanes entering together.”

An amused huff escapes her. “I see.”

The silence lingers like the plague: uncomfortable and heavy in the air.

“Will you not speak as to why?” He questions and he almost hates how desperate he sounds.

The lady takes a seat on his throne, only to lean down and take off her shoes with a satisfied sigh. She rubs the ankles of her foot when she speaks again. “I believe it to be a personal matter.”

The answer was vague, and Morpheous hated it. Angry, gray storm clouds formed overhead and the ice-cold rain started to hit the stained glass behind her.

“Am I not worth sharing with?” He asks again, but he doesn’t stop to let her answer. With her eyes wide in surprise, he continues. “Am I not good enough? Faithful enough? Am I not devoted enough to you, my love? Will you command me to beg on my knees, I shall if you so ask.”

He falls to his knees before her and runs his hands from her ankle to her knee, slowly, deliberately. His lips follow soon after, tracing the same path his fingers had. Her breath hitches and her hearts start beating faster.

“How can I show my devotion to you, my love?” He kisses.

“My wife?” He kisses again.

“My forever goddess?” And again.

“Morpheus,” She breathes out, and it’s all he ever wants to hear. She is all he ever wants to breathe and all he wants to taste.

“I pray to Daleena, Goddess of Husbandry, for forgiveness. I have left my wife unsatisfied and feel the crop of our love withered. I shall repent for my sins by your guidance.” Morpheus says in a hushed tone as he slowly inches higher on her leg.

The goddess feels power surge through her as the prayer leaves her husband's lips, and she craves the touch of them on her own. Heat pools between her legs as her husband’s breath fans across her lower regions. Her dress slits exposed her legs deliciously to Morpheous but there were still her undergarments, which he removed slowly, keeping contact with her silky skin as it slid down.

Her Lady looks down at him with uneven breaths and waits for him to give her what she wants. Morpheus, however, is patient. He traces his lips higher, he kisses all the spots she wants, but not where she needs it the most.

“Morpheus,” She pleads, and it is all he needs. One moment it is the cold air of the Dreaming and the next it is the warmth of his lips, tongue languishing the length of her slit.

She jerks in place, strong hands holding down her hips. Her own hands shoot out, desperate to grab onto anything. One, bear-clawed and desperate, on the arm of the throne and the other weaving itself into the silky strands of her husband. She gasps at the wet sensation and her head is thrown back in pleasure.

The Endless is unmovable, driven solely by the purpose of satisfying his wife. A low groan emits from deep in his throat at the unapologetic sounds she cries, babbling in a series of his name and other obscenities. He tilts his head higher until he finds her clit and relishes in the pain of her nails in his hair, lapping at her arousal with contentment until it drips down his chin. He is a starved man and she is his salvation.

Morpheus continues his demonstrations, alternating between her clit and her needy cunt. She clenches her thighs hard as she feels the impending rise of her orgasm. Her fingertips buzz with excitement as he continues to ravish her sensitive clit. His pace continues, and her eyes roll to the back of her head.

She calls out his name again, and a high-pitched whine leaves her lips as he easily adds two digits into her weeping hole. He moves them slowly, slightly curved to touch that delicious spot inside her that has her arching her back taught like a bow. From below, Morpheus looks at her through his lashes, and he can’t help the smirk that tugs on his lips as his wife tries to thrash from the sensations. She tightens around him, cunt pulsing sporadically, and he is flooded with her orgasm where he drinks greedily from the taste - sweet like a plentiful summer wine.

He places a final gentle kiss on her clit before looking at her again, the skin of her extremities glowing ethereally as she tries to control her ragged breaths. She is still in the midst of her orgasm, trying to calm herself from the high and he finds it the perfect time to leave a bruising hickey on the inside of her plush thighs. Morpheus gets up, dick painfully hard as it brushes against his pants. He takes hold of her hands to help her stand on wobbly legs and leans back.

He leans until he falls, through the throne room floor and then onto the plushness of their shared bed. His command dematerializes both of their clothes and he basks in the sticky warmth of his wife on top of him. He runs light fingers down her spine, shivers following behind like a loyal companion, whispering sweet nothings into her ears.

“Come back to me,” He murmurs, kissing her sweat-filled brow.

“Hmm,” The goddess exhales after a few more seconds of silence, eyes opening languishingly, lashes tickling the skin of her husband.

She looks around the dimly lit room for a moment before realizing that she is in their bed. Using her husband’s chest, she props herself up, effectively straddling him beneath her. Morpheus remains unmoving, ignoring the way his tip brushes against her lower lips, only messaging the meat of her hips with his thumb.

When she meets his eyes again, he speaks. “Have I proven myself, dear wife?”

It takes a moment for the goddess to remember what he was talking about and her feelings crash down again. “You had never needed to prove yourself to me, Morpheus. What happened between me and Phanes will remain between me and Phanes.”

She lifts herself on sore thighs, but can’t get far as gentle hands turn rough. The next moment, she is lying down with her husband looming over her. There was not enough light to illuminate his face, leaving only the impression of his merciless, mercury eyes. Deep down, she knows no harm will ever befall her, but in this moment, something primal presents itself.

Perhaps it is how his eyes bore into her very soul, to the very moment she was born several millennia ago. Or perhaps, she was just crazy about how his touch was driving her mad. She was very aware of the appendage that settled between the two of them and the way that her slick was coating it. His hands cup her cheek and slide down her neck and her head tilts back at the ticklish and yet pleasurable sensation. She swallows thickly and a broken sigh escapes her as his hand ghosts over her nipple.

Shivers bloom once more as his mouth incloses over the perk nipple, suckling at it in a way that has her legs wrapping around his waist. Her arms come up and snake over his shoulders, fingers gliding over the smooth marble-like skin, then resting behind his neck. One of her hands finds itself back into his hair, clenching as he gives continuous pleasure to her body.

Her hips buck up, her pussy clenching down on nothing. Cold fingers glide down the center of her stomach, going lower and lower until they cup her heat. A thumb gently circles her clit, understanding the overstimulation it recently received. They trace over her outer lips, downwards, then upwards again, coating themselves with a mixture of spit and arousal.

Morpheus removes himself from her breasts and presses his lips at the junction between her neck and shoulder. He licks at the sweat that accumulates on her collarbone and continues up her neck. When he faces her again, he speaks.

“Beg for it.” He commands.

Her Lady remains silent, slowly chewing on the inside of her lip, weighing the options in her head. Morpheus, as always, is patient and he continues running his fingers between her folds, keeping his pace but occasionally rubbing his pointer finger in circles around her clit. When she realizes that he really would just keep rubbing her and nothing else, she opens her mouth.

“P-please,” She stutters, the mere idea of begging or pleading foreign on her tongue. As a goddess, one would never allow such lowly behavior. Nevertheless how her husband will give her whatever she asks for.

Morpheus hums in approval, removing his hand to hold his dick instead. He rubs it this time in lieu of his fingers around her cunt and the goddess almost begs again. Before she can, a moan releases from both of them as he inserts himself into her and she whimpers at the familiar dull ache of being stretched out. Morpheus dips his head between her neck and shoulder again and remains stiff, feeling the warmth that only his wife can provide.

He pulls out and she mews beneath him in pleasure, ushering him to fill her up once again. Her cunt sucks him back and he wraps one of his arms underneath her waist to ground him. The other slams against the headboard of the bed, and he grabs on for all he is worth. His thrusts grow harder as her cries grow louder and he feels the way she clenches down on him.

“How divine you are, my love,” He says with a shaky breath, kissing more bruising hickeys that he hopes will last for millennia. He blows cold air over them and goosebumps rise in place, her back arching again and he can feel each perk nipple rubbing against his chest.

She moans his name again, losing herself in each drag of his cock, screaming curses when the head brushes against her sensitive spot, and whimpering when it kisses her cervix. Morpheus rises, looking down on his wife with half-lidded eyes, running a hand down between the valley of her breasts, feeling each desperate breath of air. He goes lower and groans when he sees how the two of them are connected.

Each thrust creates an unholy, slick noise and he can see the inflamed clit begging for attention. He presses his fingers on her lower stomach and she cries out for him.

“Can you feel me, my Queen?” He growls down at her, feeling the way his dick moves within her.

“Yes!” She cries back, her brows furrow and her cunt pulses around him, gripping him like a vice.

“Do you love me, my Queen?” He asks again.

“Yes!” She cries again. She starts begging again. Please, please, please, please. “Don’t stop, please my King. Please, don’t stop!”

“Will you tell me why you spoke with Phanes?” His last question.

Her eyes snap open, all the build up from her orgasm lost in the question. With her legs still around his waist, she twists her hips and topples Morpheus over until he is beneath her again.

“No,” She whispers, rocking her hips back and forth to regain the momentum they had lost.

This time, it is him who pleads. “Please,” He whispers back. His hands cup at the roundness of her ass cheeks, loving how soft they were.

She increases the ferocity of her grinds, looking down at her husband like he had just done with her. His head tosses back and she loves watching his Adam’s apple slide up and down his throat as he moans for her. His eyes are squeezed shut and his grip tightens but she doesn’t relent.

That familiar searing hot feeling appears again in her lower stomach and with one final grind she releases her orgasm all over him, falling onto his heaving chest. Morpheus cums right after, shooting his release into her in hot loads and she feels each jolt inside of her.

Her orgasm rocks through her body, feeling both too hot and too cold at the same time. It tingles in her fingers and toes and when she closes her eyes, she sees the stars of the Dreaming shinging back at her. When she comes back to her senses (again) she can feel her husband’s hand running through her bed hair, untangling it as much as he could with the one hand. The other hand holds her waist flush with his. The two lovers share a quiet moment after their throw of passion before she speaks again.

“Phanes and I…” She starts, and she can feel Morpheus stiffen under her. She groans as his cock is still deep in her, semi-hard and the only thing keeping them together.

She shifts a bit and some of their combined release pool down onto his abdomen. He would never admit to her how filthy he thought it was, nor the fact that he loved it all the same.

“Yes?” Morpheus urges, looking down at her on his chest with full attention.

“We made a deal.” She finishes her sentence.

Everything stops as Morpheus sits up. “What deal did you strike? I can do it instead, terminate the deal at once, my love.” He says with anxiety.

His wife grabs onto him as she is rocked back and a smile appears on her face. “Morpheus, my love, you have done your part.” Her smile turns sad and a forlorn look cloaks her face and she casts her gaze downwards. “We just needed some extra help.”

A confused look crosses Morpheus’s face. He brings a hand to lift her chin to look at him. With the raise of an eyebrow, he doesn’t have to say anything for his wife to know he wants a better explanation.

“I asked for a child, Morpheus.”

When her husband remains quiet, her lips start to tug downwards and his heart lurches at the sight. Her waterline soon floods with tears.

“We have not been able to produce an heir once.” She says, voice wavering. She dares not to blink for she is afraid if a single tear were to fall, all of them would.

“What in return?” He asks.

“I look after his pet snake for a weekend.” She replies simply. Morpheus has returned to his previous position.

The tears start to fall, each fat drop hitting his skin seemingly striking him directly in the heart. “You need not worry, wife. This time it will take, with Phanes’s help or not.” He whispers into the crown of her head.

She nods once, sniffling as her nose starts to run, too. The rhythmic breathing below her and the continued brushing of her hair rocks her to a dreamless sleep. Morpheus wraps his arms protectively around her frame and should he have known, he would’ve stayed longer. He would’ve held her tighter, kissed her longer, and promised her that he would be there when she woke. Alas, there was a missing nightmare, rampaging through the waking world, something that was his responsibility as king.

When she wakes up the next morning, with a satisfying ache throughout her body, the bed was cold and empty, and her husband was nowhere to be seen. To say that this was new behavior would be a lie, unfortunately. The number of times that a night of passionate love-making ended in a cold and lonely morning was more than she could count on her fingers and toes. That isn’t to say that Morpheus didn’t want to stay in bed with her, it’s simply a sovereign that understands his responsibilities, and she could never blame her husband for that.

Avoiding the difficult conversation the two lovers shared last night, her Lady avoids the locations her husband is most likely to reside in. Instead, she chooses to look towards her duties in the Dreaming. She finds herself amongst a simple dream from a small farmer who looks after sheep, who struggles with getting their weight to increase during the harsh winters. Carefully, she admits herself to him, dressed in a light yellow dress, sunflowers decorating the fabric and her hair. Her hands were covered in dirt, and she held a shepherd’s crook that had a bell attached to the end.

The farmer looks up from his rocking chair, prized sheep chewing lazily around him, and smoke from his pipe circles him. His face was rough - old and wrinkled from long days in the sun during his youth. But she smiles gently at him when his laugh lines appear around the edges of his eyes and mouth.

She stands next to him and they stare out on his flock together. He shares his life story. The story of a young boy whose father was also a farmer, and his father before him, and his father before him. He talks about his first puppy, named Barkly, his first love, whom he lost after he was drafted into the First World War, and how he now finds solitude with his late wife’s grave and his grandchildren.

He mentions that he needs to fatten his sheep up for the winter as he can’t lose any more stock so he may afford medicine for his sick grandson. He confesses that he has tried everything and nothing seems to have worked. He looks up at her now, tired, and slumped over, and realization dawns on his face as she smiles down at him.

She whispers at him a simple solution, one he can’t quite hear over the muddle of a dream. He stands abruptly as her figure distorts, the dawn is rising and a farmer’s body rises with it. He thanks her - he offers a sheep for her, which she nods at before he wakes from his dream.

The goddess visits a few more dreams, each giving her ethereal presence. Some were like the one she was just at, some needed comfort from the loss of animals, and some dreamed of a new pet to have. By the 5th dream, she realizes that several days had passed in the waking world, and her husband was nowhere to be found.

She admits to herself that she had been avoiding him longer than she intends, but perhaps it was time to face him again. She teleports to the castle, summoning herself before the drawbridge of the magnificent building. The ivory dragon perks up at her arrival, but otherwise pays no attention to her, going back to hoarding its gold coins, a few of them falling when she crosses the large doors.

As always, the castle is slightly colder than what she likes. A small sense of deja vu encapsulates her as she walks to the all-familiar throne room. This time, however, it was empty. No figure on the throne, nor the stairs as he sometimes preferrs it. Odd, she thinks, but not impossible. So she turns a corner to the library, she often finds him here as well, looking over the books of his dreamers. She searches high and low, through each aisle and reading spot, but still nothing. Anxiety and thoughts of doubt begin to fill her. Perhaps she did mess up, making that deal with Phanes.

Her last stop was Cain and Able’s homes. She finds the two brothers in front of their own homes, tending to their garden and playing with the gargoyle that Morpheus had given them. The two were of no help as they were unable to answer something worthy of even a hint of where her husband was.

She rolls her eyes as the walk away from their homes was accompanied by the sound of a scream and the resolute bang of a metal shovel hitting a skull.

As her last resort, she calls for Lucienne. Often, she hopes to never bother her, understanding that the work she puts into maintaining the Dreaming is never-ending. And, she knew that if she were to ask something of her, Lucienne would stop everything to help her.

“His Lord left several nights ago to fetch the Corinthian,” She spoke, pushing up her round glasses.

“And since then?” She questions, her hands wringing with themselves. She hopes for an answer she knows she won’t get.

Lucienne shakes her head no. “My Lady, Jessamy hasn’t returned either. Perhaps his Lord is simply taking longer than usual.”

“Let us hope,” She says defeated.

For the next few months, the goddess stays within the Dreaming. Each day that passes, more hope was lost for her husband's return. Doubt and anxiety cloud her mind at the uncertain future.

She looks down at her stomach, a distinguishable bump had made its appearance and she rubs it gently with her hand. The deal with Phanes went through, she is with child. She should be happy right? Except for the obvious fact that Morpheus still had not returned.

Her cat lounges at her feet where she sits and she pets its head. With a trill, it looks at her, similar mercury eyes of her husband stares back. She had no choice but to find him herself.

“Go,” She asks of it. “Go to the waking world, find Morpheus.”

The cat sits up and stretches, hind high in the air. Its claws grips into the plush carpet it rests on. With another stretch to its lower back, it trots off, the jingling sounds of its bell disappearing as it crosses over to the waking world.

All the goddess could do was wait and hope. She runs another anxious hand across her stomach and a tear escapes her.

Lucienne had mentioned it to her in passing a few days ago. The librarian stated that it probably was nothing to worry about, but the conversation had stuck with the goddess since.

The Dreaming is dying.

As much as the Dreaming is hers through marriage, it is suffering without its true ruler in the realm. She could see it in the dying leaves and small cracks of the castle. The ivory dragon that rests above the castle has gotten more restless in the past few weeks. And despite her best efforts to comfort the animal, the dragon did not listen to the Goddess of Husbandry.

This brings up a second concern of hers. The child she carries is as much a part of her as it is the Dreaming’s. It embodies a part of the Dream Lord and if the Dreaming is suffering, there stands to reason that her husband is suffering as well. If both of these entities are suffering, what is to happen to her child?

This child that she already loves until she is forgotten and nothing but stardust and she had been asking for centuries. This child that Morpheus is finally ready to love after the untimely death of his son. She must find Morpheus, and soon.

For the sake of the Dreaming and her child.

Several more weeks pass and her cat had yet to come back. She only hopes that it was due to the difficulty of finding an Endless and not because it got distracted with a family whose heart was big enough to take in a “stray” cat. Each day that passes, she grows significantly weaker. The prayers of her followers still ring in her ears, but she could not leave the Dreaming to help her devotees.

Another war broke out among the humans, the one they call World War II. Less and fewer people were crossing over into the dreaming and slowly, the once beautiful realm was losing its colors. The goddess couldn’t stop the residents of the realm from leaving its gates, the Dreaming was no longer a place they wished to stay. Furthermore, there weren’t enough dreamers for them to bother staying. She only remains thankful for those who decided to stay.

She sits on Morpheus’ throne, the castle colder than ever. Behind her, the once beautiful stained glass had shattered. The Corinthian had still not been captured, or else her husband would have been home and Fiddler’s Green had decided to leave. She runs a hand through her hair at the issues that seem to keep piling up. As she ignores her prayers, her powers start to wane. Fewer and fewer people were still believing in her.

And how could she blame them? She hasn’t made herself present in any of their prayers and with the war, people were less concerned about animals and more about themselves. She sighs.

A sharp pain yanks her out of her thoughts and a scream rips from her throat. She doubles over from the throne and kneels, hunching over on the floor. The pain spreads across her lower abdomen and a shaking hand holds her stomach. Immediately she knew something was wrong and it involved the safety of her child.

For a moment, she couldn’t breathe, too focused on staying conscious. The throne room was empty, her fall echoed around and bounced across the wide walls. When she thought the pain was over, she took in a large breath, inhaling shakily in gulps.

Salvation lasts a few seconds before another wave of pain overwhelms her. It wraps around her like a hot blanket on a sweltering day, sticking to her skin and making her overstimulated. Too much was happening at once and it was almost too hard to bear.

“Lucienne!” She screams between cramps. Tears fall in fat drops onto the floor and wets the hand propping her up.

Lucienne appears quickly, followed closely by Mervin. Hands grab at her weak body and hoist her back onto the throne. Where she had fallen, blood pooled and more fell from between her legs.

Her whole body shakes with shivers and a whimper leaves her.

“My Lady,” Lucienne says with concern. The librarian couldn’t stop from staring at the growing pool of blood below her.

“What do we do?” Mervin asks. Even though he was a glorified janitor, constructor, and destructor for the Dreaming, he didn’t know how to fix this.

“Call for Phanes,” Their Lady said weakly. Sweat begins to appear like morning dew across her forehead. For once, she was grateful for the cool temperature.

“Mervin, take her to his Lord’s chambers,” Lucienne instructs. She doesn’t stay to watch as she sprints to the library.

She flips through leather-bound books, old and new until she finds the correct summoning spell she was looking for. The loyal librarian could only hope that a god would listen to a dream like her.

She hauls the large book into the room her Lady lays in. Labored breathing came from both women, although for two vastly different reasons.

“Forgive me, my lady, but I require your assistance,” Lucienne said next to the goddess’ bed.

The goddess gives her a hand limply and Lucienne starts chanting the words on the page while holding her cold fingers. The wind whirls around them and Mervin holds onto his pumpkin head to not have it knocked off.

Lucienne finishes the spell and looks down. Her Lady was glowing with power but she could not have looked any more weak. Nothing happens for a few bated breaths, only the sound of howling wind around them. Then nothing, not even the sound of crickets could be heard.

Enters Phanes, golden and warm like the sun. He materializes in a cloud of golden dust. He slams his staff down, and his golden snake slithers up from under his robes.

“Who dares summon m-”

“Lord Phanes,” Lucienne interrupts, something she knows she would be punished for, if not for the more important matter at hand.

A glare is thrown her way and softens at the familiar face. Phanes’ eyes travel across the intertwined fingers and land on his friend.

Weak eyes open and meet his. The godly figure is almost too much to stare directly at.

As if understanding what was happening to his friend, he drops the golden light he had been shining. The Dreaming returns to its cold blue, and it was just two deities and two dreams in understanding.

“A new deal,” Phanes announces and the goddess wants to weep again. Judging by how her husband acted the last time she had done this, she was going to be doomed. But the decision was easily made.

“Anything,” she whispers. Her eyelids are starting to feel heavy. She had delivered countless calves, kittens, and cubs, but never another deity. Was she supposed to feel this weak?

Silky scales slide across her feverish skin and she is face to face with Phanes’ serpent.

“Give your child to him, he will keep them safe until they may come to fruition. Until then, you must look after the serpent as if it is of your blood.”

The goddess could barely pay attention but understood in a way without words. She nods in agreement and the relief begins almost immediately.

Pain seeps out of her body, slow, like molasses and her body starts to glow again. Lucienne shields her eyes and peeks through her fingers. The goddess’ stomach glows and deflates.

A small glowing ball releases itself from the warmth of her womb, its dim light is warm and lights the room like a lantern on a foggy night. A weak hand cups it and it sits in the palm of its mother.

“Hello, darling son,” She whispers. The ball stays still, a small high-pitched noise emitting from itself.

The goddess smiles. “Darling daughter, then?” This time, the ball bounces gently a few times in response but otherwise doesn’t do anything.

The golden serpent is slowly making its way up the arm that holds the glowing orb. A tongue flicks out and smells it. Then with a nod from the goddess, the serpent unhinges its mouth and swallows the child whole. The light shines through the crevices of its eyes and ears as it makes its way down the serpent's throat. Eventually, the light dissipates and the serpent looks all the same, save for the bulge in its stomach.

A sense of longing borrows itself into her chest where her heart lies. Quite literally, the light disappears right in front of her. Physically, her pain had been removed, only the dried blood between her legs reminded her of what had happened just moments prior. And yet, a dull pain resides. Something she couldn’t put her finger on, but she could feel it behind her eyes and how it lodges in her throat.

Her gaze is unfocused as she pets the golden snake, her golden snake now, her child. For the rest of the night, she rests and Phanes leaves without a word. Lucienne stays by her side the whole time, eyes only moving when the serpent shifts. Mervin went back to work after a few hours, the castle’s foundation still cracking under their feet. He left with a sorrowful look, well, as sorrowful as a pumpkin head could be.

As the sun rises the next day, the goddess wakes up to not only the snake by her side but the librarian and her long awaited cat. Lucienne wakes up at the first shift that her Lady makes and stands.

“Let me draw you a bath,” She said before any debate.

“Lucienne,” Her Lady calls after her anyway in rejection. All of her handmaidens had left. They were only there to help the goddess under the instruction of the Dream Lord who created them. Without him here, no one would punish them for leaving and not attending his wife.

Still, the librarian doesn’t listen and disappears into the joined bathroom. Meanwhile, the goddess looks down at her cat and raises an eyebrow. It has certainly gotten fatter. And a new name tag was attached to his collar next to his bell.

“Buttons,” She said out loud, reading the new name. At that, the cat perks up and stares back at her disappointed face. “You got distracted on your mission didn’t you?”

She pets his rounder stomach and scratches his head. “Well, they certainly loved you…” The hidden passive-aggressive message was evident.

The cat, now Buttons, doesn’t bother with a response. Instead, it lays back down, flicking its tail aggressively at her comment.

She rolls her eyes. “Did you locate his Lord?”

Buttons rolls onto his back and stretches, belly exposing to her, and opens his mouth in a yawn. “Burgess Manor,” He says and turns his body away from her.

Finally, an answer. She throws the blanket off her body and goes to stand. She looks at her closet, thinking of what to wear to the waking world to retrieve her husband.

“My Lady!” Lucienne exclaims as she walks out of the bathroom. The goddess looks over at her and notices her staring at her dress. She looks down as well and remembers all of the blood that she spilled last night. It had caked itself into the fabric and was still crusted on the inside of her legs.

The librarian’s shock was still on her face when she realizes that her Lady fully intends to go to the waking world looking like that, having overheard the conversation between her and the cat. Lucienne insists she take a bath first and that she would find something for her to wear.

Her Lady doesn’t disagree and disappears into the steaming bathtub that was made for her. She doesn’t regret it for a second the moment she steps in. The warmth was comforting like a mother huddling to keep its cub warm. The water washes away the filths of yesterday and within the embrace of the water, she finally cries.

It’s not a gentle cry, it is hiccups and gasping for breath. The pain of yesterday that she felt behind her eyes and in her throat spills out. Her bathwater which used to smell of apples and cinnamon now turns into a maroon as her blood washes out. It starts to smell of iron and salt and it reminds her of war.

Her hand runs over her stomach and a whimper leaves her again at the lack of the bump she had grown so accustomed to. Logically, she knows that her child, no her daughter, was safe. But, one would have to admit that having their daughter in the stomach of a serpent was a bit unnerving.

A golden head peaks at her over the side of the ceramic bathtub and flicks out its tongue.

She sniffs the last of her tears away and pets its head with her index finger. “I’m sorry for leaving you already, dear daughter.”

The serpent’s stomach had grown twice as large since last night and since this is new territory for her, she must make haste so she may be back in the dream to witness the birth of her daughter.

Before she left, though, she walks into the castle gardens and gets to work. From her fingertips she grows a birch tree, its white branches and muted green leaves fit right into the dying realm around them. She sprouts flowers and brushes for scenery and a bed made of straw under a tunnel that she dug out.

The golden serpent follows her and slithers up her body, wrapping around her curves. When its head was next to hers, it let out a rattling-like noise in agreement with the small open enclosure the goddess had made for it. It slides back down her body and makes it home in the tunnel.

“Mommy will be back,” She whispers to it when it settles in and gives it a quick peck on the top of its head. It flicks its tongue at her and moves further into its nest.

The goddess stands back up and dusts off any dirt that could have gotten on her dress. Lucienne helps her pick out an appropriate attire for the waking world. Something she wouldn’t personally wear, but it certainly helps to blend in with the mortals. She quickly had to locate her husband. After all, she has no idea how long it takes for a snake to incubate a child.

It was easy to find the Burgess Manor when she arrives in the waking world. Everyone who was anyone spoke about the grand magus who managed to capture the devil in his basement. That the devil had granted him eternal life and some other rumors. All she had to do was flaunt a smile and go where the fingers pointed.

The rumors, of course, were mere rumors. The devil? No. Without knowing it, Rodrick Burgess managed to capture something even more powerful. How he had managed to keep him captured was a different question entirely and the goddess had a sneaking suspicion that he had some help.

It was nightfall when she arrives at the gates of the manor. Thousands of people clamor in the front garden, talking amongst themselves. Suddenly, the clothing she had worn was not fit for the environment she was walking into. Using a little bit of her powers, she changes the outlook of her clothing into something else. It was a bit more formal, growing longer and softer to the touch. However, if someone were to squint and stare hard enough, they would be able to see the original dress she had worn.

She weaves her way to the front and listens carefully to the words around her.

“I had arrived this morning, my feet are killing me.”

“Ha, me as well. But anything to get into the manor. I want to see what the Great Magus is hiding.”

“Not to mention the party of your lifetime!” They joke together.

Someone taps her on her shoulder. Another young man was waiting to be let in.

“You are a new face,” He comments and takes her hand. He presses his lips to the back of it. She takes her hand back and wipes it away on the back of her dress while keeping a smile.

“Yes, I wish to see the Great Magus himself.” She half-lies through her teeth. The young gentleman offers an arm to her which she reluctantly takes. Perhaps he will be the key to getting into the manor.

The doors of the manor open and people slowly trickle in. She peers over shoulders into the manor but couldn’t immediately find anything of note that would be dangerous. The warmth of the building fans over her as she enters through the large doors and a breath of relief escapes her.

“Isn’t it everything you could ever dream of?” The gentleman asks. He looks down at her with a smile.

She looks around, the manor was certainly lively. Foods of all kinds sprawl out on tables, fresh flowers almost too sweet to smell, and candlelight flickers and dances from the sudden wind. There were some party tricks as well, the flames seem to sparkle a bit more, bubbles were floating around in the air without popping, and the statues follows her with their eyes. But, they were all small party tricks, nothing to indicate this holier-than-thou man.

Through the buzz of it all, she could feel it. The string of fate that connects her to her husband. It was faint, but it was there and she knew she was in the right place. She just had to find out where.

A man emerges on the top of the stairs to the second floor and opens his arms in a flourish. She frowns at him because there he was, Rodrick Burgess, the man who took her husband. By the end of tonight, she promises herself, there will be no Rodrick Burgess.

“Ow, dang you’ve got a grip on you,” She breaks eye contact with Rodrick when her escort for the evening exclaims out. She releases the iron grip she had wrapped around his lower arm and apologizes.

“I am terribly sorry,” She apologizes. “Actually, I am parched, can you be a gentleman and fetch me some lemonade?” She bats her eyelashes and gives a smile. His face lights up in a blush and runs off to fetch her the lemonade she wants.

As soon as he was out of eyesight, the goddess began moving. She moves between bodies like wind on the beachfront - gracefully, wistfully, but with purpose. She uses her senses to locate where her husband could be. It was like an invisible dance.

When the sense weakens she backtracks, when it strengthens she moves forward. She was so lost in her quest that she almost did not register when she ran into a wool-covered chest. Surprise overtook her face as she looks up, ready to apologize and continue on her way. But she stops when she realizes that the man she bumps into is the very host of the party.

“Rodrick Burgess,” She says almost breathlessly. Oh, how she wants to commit a grievous crime to this mortal.

The old man chuckles above her and grabs onto her shoulders. His fingers are cold when they come into contact with her bare skin and she wants to cringe away from his touch, but he holds on strong.

“You seem like a curious creature, my little dove,” He comments and starts to walk. Without much room to budge, she is reluctant to follow him.

“Yes,” She drawls out much like how Morpheus tends to do. She suddenly acts with interest when she realizes that the bond strength between her and her husband increases. She holds on tighter and presses her body against his arm.

“I heard that the great Magus kept the devil in the basement of his manor. Can we see it?” She fakes a supple voice and looks up at him with an innocent smile.

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think a small thing such as yourself would want to see the devil.”

“No!” She belts out, a bit too quickly. But she recovers smoothly. “What I mean to say is, I am far too excited to see him. Please don’t deny me this one pleasure Great Magus.”

“How loathsome,” She thinks to herself.

“Very well, I can’t deny you anything if you keep looking at me like that.” He confirms.

Rodrick Burgess leads her away from the party, down a long and quiet hallway. It is decorated with antique and rare collectibles. The older man talks about each one, dragging on his time that leads to her husband, but she nods along anyway.

She had waited decades to be in the arms of her husband again, a few more minutes surely wouldn’t hurt. Soon, she is led to a dark and demanding set of double doors. Locks and bolts seal it from top to bottom. With a nod of Rodrick’s head, the guards stationed outside open the door slowly and a cold air seeps out and blows her hair back. The basement smells musty of old water and stale air. A cough emits from further down the stairs and she frowns.

“Scared yet, child?” Rodrick says to her mockingly.

She only shakes her head no as she continues down the steps.

The smell grows stronger as she gets closer and she can also make out a small portion of dirt and sand amidst it all. Despite it, the air was crisp and cold, suitable for a stone basement.

A light emits from the end of the long staircase downwards and she can’t stop her jaw unhinging as she finally sets her eyes on her husband. Tears well up in her eyes as they dart across the room.

Arches supported the basement throughout the floor and a moat still separates between her and her husband. A singular fluorescent light is cast on him in a glass prison as if he were some circus animal on display. Below the glass prison were some sort of gold runic markings and even from far away, she could feel the real magic emitting from them.

Rodrick releases her hold on him and turns to the two guards on duty that night. “You two may go,” He instructs, and the two leave without debate.

At the sound of his voice, Dream opens his eyes but remains in his laid position. His gaze pierces into his corrupt heart, if he even had one left, but quickly notices his wife by his side. With this, he sits up and gently places a hand on the glass barrier.

“Would you look at that!” Rodrick boasts. “He moves, he doesn’t do that much. Perhaps he has feelings for a pretty thing like you.”

The goddess doesn’t hear him and walks up to the glass cage in a trance. How does she free him? Tears fall restlessly down her face and her stature dejects. She snaps out of her trances on the small bridge above the stagnant water when a rough hand squeezes her upper arms.

“Stop, you must not get any closer. He is trying to seduce you into releasing him!” Rodrick hashes out between gritted teeth.

She opens her mouth to tell him something, anything, to release her husband but stops when she hears Dream’s voice again.

“Wife,” He calls simply and her body fills with all of the love and adoration she had been missing for decades.

Rodrick’s grip tightens at his voice, the first time he remembers hearing it. With a shocked face, he looks down at the woman in his grip. “Wife?!” He screams at her furiously.

She takes a deep breath and steels herself, ripping herself away from his bruising grip, and stands between him and her husband. The tears had dried and only anger left in its wake.

“The one before you is Daleena, Goddess of Husbandry, Mother of Agriculture and Protector of Animals, Saint of Farmers, Queen of the Dreaming, wife of Dream of the Endless. You face me now, mortal.”

Wind swirls, somehow, in the basement but it is the least of Rodrick’s worries. He plants himself firmly as the wind picks up and sand envelops the two of them in a vortex of anger.

“I have captured something more than a god! I have an Endless!” He points a finger at her, eyes scrutinizing. “What makes you think you can defeat me? The Great Magus Rodrick Burgess?”

Walking a few steps forward, her shepherd’s crook materializes in her hand, the bell jingling violently in the wind. Her extremities start to glow their familiar light as she musters power. She points the staff at Rodrick as billets of wheat start growing around his feet and crawl up his legs, the nice wool of his pants long forgotten against the harsh stalks of the plants. The plants bloom as it sucks the life away from the very thing they grew on.

Rodrick starts chanting in Greek.

“Prostasía,” He chokes out. “Prostasía.” He chants again and he breathes easier. “Prostasía.” He chants one more time and he’s back to standing at his full height. The plants that were wrapped around him wither away and fell into dust, sucked into the sand vortex around them.

The goddess frowns, she did not realize how much power she had lost until now when a simple protection chant could stave off her attacks. Rodrick lunges at her, hands open and clawed, ready to grab onto any piece of her clothing. In turn, she slams her crook into the ground and a fissure opens up, but not before he can shove her further and her body slams into the wall of the glass prison. The fissure separates the two opponents away from each other and Rodrick steps back before he falls into the Earth.

She braces herself on the glass wall at the impact and loses her breath for a moment. She could feel the warmth of her husband’s hand and she turns away from Rodrick to look at him. His hand was aligned with her own, so close, only inches apart.

“The runes, my love,” Morpheus tells her. She looks down at looks at the graphics that surround them, the sand had erased some of it through the abrasive nature of itself. The magic within the runes would still be strong if not for the defiant smudge she creates with her foot, just in time for the fissure to finish opening. With a final look at her husband, she walks closer to the fissure, pulling the sand vortex smaller so it was just her and Rodrick again.

From the fissure glows a golden light, soft and merciful but quickly overshadowed by the growing dust. The light expands as the golden serpent which holds her daughter emerges. It had grown in size since the last time she had seen it. Its length and mass have nearly tripled in size and the baby bulge it used to flaunt was now merely a small bump.

Rodrick’s stare grows higher and higher as the snake continues to emerge, it stares at the man, tongue flicking angrily at him for daring to harm the goddess. The snake lunges, all fangs and dripping venom, its large scales clattering against each other like gold coins. Rodrick moves to the side and the serpent misses. It hisses in retaliation and comes around again, this time wrapping its body around the legs of the Great Magus.

Panic sets in as the serpent starts to constrict around the man and he can feel his pulse pounding against his head and the blood circulation gets cut off. The bones in his knees pop as they press together.

“Father!” A young boy’s voice screams across the vortex and the goddess sees a glint of silver cross into the vortex arena.

The serpent is halfway up Rodrick’s body when the goddess notices the sharp dagger that Rodrick now possesses. He rises it high in the air and with a large gasp plunges it into the flesh of the serpent. The golden scales provide little to no protection against the artifact.

“No!” She screams and takes a step forward, only to be stopped by the protective tail of the serpent.

The metal hisses as it melts against the golden scales, melting the scales together until they become smooth around the wound. Rodrick slides again and again until the weapon becomes too slippery with blood and he loses grip. The snake is now a mosaic of gold and red as it tightens one last time.

“Curse… you…” Rodrick strains out, his face turning purple as the last bit of air leaves him. The serpent weakens and falls in a slump like an inanimate rope and the sand around them falls like rain.

The goddess leaps over the fissure and after making sure the man is dead runs to the head of the golden serpent. Its eyes were dim, mouth agape as its muscles weakens and she can no longer feel it breathing on her skin when she places a hand above its nostrils.

“No, no no,” She mumbles to herself. She grabs her dress up and away from her feet as she makes her way down the length of the serpent. When she reaches where she last saw the small baby bump, she runs her hand along its underside, soon becoming slick with cooling blood.

She finds a particular cut that was deeper than normal and when she sticks her hand in there, they grab around a small appendage. A cry of relief leaves her lips as she digs deeper. She pulls her baby from the dying body and cradles it to her body. Golden scale imprints are decorated across her arms and legs and a few more along the spine of her back.

Her breath hiccups as silence fills the air. She pats her daughter’s back and wipes her mouth clean and panic seeps into her bones when still she remains quiet.

Morpheus appears behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. She turns to him, tears streaking down her neck.

“Crying, why-why isn’t she crying?!” She wails and clutches her child harder against her chest.

Morpheus hugs her from behind and holds the two of them to his chest.

“Y/N,” He calls her name, her real name. Not her titles, or what the mortals call her, but the name given to her since her creation.

She weeps into his form, salty tears mixing with blood and the amniotic fluid that covers her child. Her tears fall into her daughter’s mouth and feed into the child her grief, regret, and guilt as well as the hope she still had in her.

A soothing hand pets her and the silence disappears. Loud wailing comes from below and her eyes shoot open. Her daughter was finally crying, her hands in fists as they move around in the air.

“Praises,” She sobs again, this time tears of joy. Her child's eyes peel open and smiles as she grabs at her mother’s hair.

Morpheus smiles, a rare one, all teeth showing as he touches his daughter’s head gently. The three, now a family, return home to the Dreaming. There will be more to do, especially for Morpheus but for now, a small victory lies within the hope that is their daughter.

Extra:

“Well I’ll be baffled, bamboozled, and befuddled,” Phanes says, hands on his hip and his staff leaning against one of the walls of the basement.

He stares at his serpent covered in dried blood and dearly departed, lying alone on the cold basement floor.

“Look at how they massacred my boy!” He screams to no one in particular, arms out in disbelief.

He lets out a huff and crosses his arms. “I’ll let you borrow my snake, blah, blah, blah, take care of it like it’s your own, meh, meh, meh,” He mocks.

Phanes runs a hand across the top of the snake’s head and watches as the dried blood rehydrates and moves thickly back into the cuts. The gnashes done by the weapon stitch itself back close and the gold scales return to their original form.

The snake shrinks smaller and smaller until it is back to its original size. At which, it perks up and flicks a tongue out in thanks to its god.

“All right, let’s go,” Phanes says with a sigh as if this was a mundane chore. He extends out a hand for the serpent to slither up to.

“I am never making a deal with those two ever again, that was crazy.” He says to his snake.

The snake flicks its tongue again and rattles the scales on its back.

“Ohh, that’s nice that she made you an enclosure.” He responds, then remains silent as the snake says something else. “What do you mean she forgot to put mice in the enclosure for you to eat?!”

#morpheus #morpheus x reader #morpheus x reader smut #the sandman #the sandman x reader #dream of the endless #dream #dream x reader #dream x reader smut #angst with a happy ending #light angst #the sandman fanfic #morpheus x wife!reader #morpheus x wife reader #dream of the endless smut #dream of the endless x reader

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wandixx · 2 months

Text

Ghost of fries and Hero of cookies part 4

All work words count: 14 643

Words in this part: 2999

Summary of whole work: Duke wasn't expecting to wake up from his quick rooftop nap to some meta kid with fries. He also wasn't expecting kid to stay

Danny asked Dani to stay safe while she was in Gotham. Where would she be safer than under the wing of local hero? And he looked like he needed bad day combo anyway

This part summary: Dani haven't considered how hard it can be to save people from house fire

Beta read by @audhumla-sailor though English is second language for both of us, so proceed with this in mind. I also know all of the charaters through fics alone, so probably ooc. Stay catious if it's something you don't like

First part, Previous part

Trigger warnings: house fire, panic attacks, temporary character death (am I over dramatic to say this if background child character's heart stops for a long moment and Dani hears it?) slight dissociation (tell me if I missed something, I'll fix it)

Dani proved to be useful addition to Duke’s patrol routine even though she couldn’t always join him, had very little actual training and was a certified mess most of the time. It was nice to banter with her in the free time, she did help when needed and her enhanced hearing was great in finding trouble he would otherwise overlook. She also often brought snacks (he did too, because girl had no idea what was healthy and in the love of god, if he didn’t try to get her in better habits).

“Fire on seven. Some people are stuck inside,” Dani blurted out and flew faster than baseline person should be able to withstand. Duke run and grappled after orange blur she became. It was less than perfect that she couldn’t tell more specifically where things were going down, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t train.

They rarely intervened with fires, unlike Gotham’s police and CPS, firefighters here worked pretty great. Dani knew this, so her going there in the first place meant something was up.

On a fly he grabbed his gas mask. It was made to withstand Scarecrow and Joker when they released their toxins and not smoke so it should do its job. He hoped that Dani would stop before entering so he could give her spare mask and well, coordinate. But she didn’t, of course. What did he expect from kid who body tackled Joker’s goon without second thought about idk, four other goons with guns being in the same room! He only saw end of her cape in between flames when he swung to the right street. Duke made sure his mask was secure when he stopped on a nearest save rooftop to assess the situation. Fire was too big to be put out with personal means like fire extinguishers so all they could do was to evacuate.

“Hoopoe, you reckless idiot, don’t die in here,” he muttered, sure she would hear him before grappling inside too.

***

About five seconds after entering building, Dani decided that she didn’t like fires. It probably came from her time in Amity but she was far more comfortable when she could beat the root of the problem into submission. Also, it was surprisingly loud, like need-to-cover-her-ears-for-a-hot-moment type of loud. Not louder than a rogue attack, it would be really hard to beat that level of noise but fire was worse in some way. It was somewhat similar to nails on a blackboard. Not in a sound per se but in a vibe she got from it. How she couldn’t tune it out like she usually did.

She straightened herself and dove ahead to the nearest person she heard. Smoke rendered her eyes nearly absolutely useless. Though she saw, heard and felt enough to find safe routes. Of course she could go intangible and in theory wouldn’t be affected by anything from physical realm but even when intangible fire kept burning for some reason and she would prefer to stay raw to being crispy. Rescued people should stay unfried too.

She didn’t quite remember first few rescues, just that it went smoothly, she took a leaf from Danny’s book, throwing some puns and references she didn’t quite knew but from context thought they would fit. Then once outside, she kept telling them to wait for paramedics and went back inside. She was more and more on edge for some reason.

She was really glad she didn’t need to breathe as much.

Middle-aged man grabbed her arm and shook her violently, asking to save his children.

“Fourth floor, fifth window to the left. Please save them!” man cried. Dani felt kinda like snapping but took deep breath to stop herself from it. Signal would be disappointed if she yelled at panicking civilian. She could kinda relate to the man anyway. She was probably also panicking.

“I’ll save them, I promise,” she said instead, phasing out of his grip.

She heard them, little boy weakly whispering to his sister that everything would be alright as soon as the heroes would get to them. His voice was hoarse, choked, interrupted by shallow breaths while the girl sobbed. Dani darted their way. Fire unit and medics were finally getting closer.

Girl yelled when caped hero appeared in room full of smoke. They both were sitting, older boy slightly swaying.

“It’s okay, I’m here to get you out to your dad,” she soothed, grabbing them both into a hug like carry. She barely jumped away from under the crushed lamp that fell where they were half a second before. Girl yelped.

“It’s okay, I got you, it’s okay,” she muttered, hoisting kids into more comfortable position. She flew nearest way out of the rom, looking for a clear spot on an outer wall. Her stomach dropped and core spasmed when she realized that boy stopped breathing, going limp in her arms. She was panicking throughout whole of this fire rescuing mess but only then she became frantic.

Maybe it was because of the smoke that kept cluging in her throat. She didn’t need to breathe as often but now she felt like she was suffocating and was suddenly all too aware of each bit of air she managed to swallow in her lungs.

She almost dropped when they finally got out. It took less than a second for her to fly to the kids’ father. She put girl down a little to hastily before gently laying boy n the pavement. Adult was beginning to hyperventilate and honestly Dani wasn’t too far behind him. She wished Signal was there. He would know what to do. Dani only had been on one first-aid course and she spent the better part of it on reviewing memes.

She had to remember something!

Breaths! She had to make absolutely sure if he was breathing!

She remembered practicing this one, so she did as instructed, counting to fifteen instedad of ten for a good measure. Then to twenty just to be safe. She knew she was counting too fast anyway.

Boy wasn’t breathing.

He wasn’t breathing!

She wished her ears were deceiving her but there was no heartbeat too!

What was she supposed to do now?!

Oh, right, she remembered chest compression thing from movies. She could do it.

Someone yanked her back, so hard she almost hit her head.

“You’re doing it wrong. I’m nurse, I’ll do it,” young woman declared, already kneeling were Dani was mere seconds ago, unzipped boy’s hoodie and got to work. Only then halfa realized that they got circled by small crowd of people rescued from building. Two of them were calming boy’s family down. She would use some comforting too.

She scrambled to her feet, racing out the crowd. Nobody even glanced her way.

She turned around and flew back inside the burning building.

Why did it feel like running away?

First ambulance arrived three rescues after the boy. Dani was so relieved she had to stop for a moment because her knees buckled and flight betrayed her for a hot second. She heard only four other people inside and Signal. They would finish soon enough.

Good.

Her head was spinning slightly.

“Congratulations, you are being rescued, please do not resist” she announced with forced confidence, appearing next to the man who probably was in a gang. Thankfully he didn’t fight her. When she was back in Central City one of the Flashes told her to make sure that people know she was trying to help them especially if they seemed like the type to choose fight over other crisis responses. This man certainly did. He almost punched her anyway.

Next was boy who was far too little to be left alone. She gave him her cape. She assumed he could use the comfort it gave her. There was a reason she choose comfiest blanket to this role.

She heard Signal making his way to the last victim but for some reason it was slow going. She flew up there after the last reassuring words to the boy.

She learned why Signal got stuck about three seconds after appearing on the right floor. It was a literal epicenter or whatever it was called. The root of the problem. The literal Hell on earth. Dani stopped for a moment, downed by the coughing fit and tears making her sight absolutely useless.

Signal was talking to someone. Asking them to calm down. She wasn’t sure. Dani forced herself to stand up and go see what was happening. She was probably swaying a little.

There was young woman in the middle of the fire. There was no scent of burning skin or hair so Dani assumed there were some powers involved. Thankfully most likely she wasn't a ghost. Dani wasn’t in the right headspace to fight a ghost and as cool and competent as Signal was, he couldn’t fight ghosts either.

Woman was visibly terrified. She kept screaming, begging Signal to go away because she was too dangerous to be so close. Hero tried to talk her down. She yelled that it was all her fault and she shouldn’t be saved.

Oh.

Woman had to just learn about her ability and lost control over it. Go big or go home, right? She didn’t exactly have home anymore so…

Dani barely kept herself from hysterical laughter.

Ghost fights were so, so much easier, she just had to beat the cause of the problem into submission and trap it in the thermos. No persuade it into stopping.

It was all too hot, too loud, too suffocating.

Dani could barely think.

Creaking of the ceiling boomed through her brain, somehow getting over the overwhelming cackle of fire that made her just want to hide in the corner and cry, even ignoring absolute onslaught to her other senses.

Ceiling was going to fall down and crush all of them.

Dani could barely think, so she didn’t.

She forgot to turn intangible when she crushed through window, meta woman held tightly in her arms. Thank Ancients she was durable enough to not break her head for that. Signal could handle himself. Hopefully.

Dani gasped on fresh air. She felt lightheaded, barely cognizant from instinctual relief to be out. She was free falling, her body limp, eyes half-closed, wind rushing in her ears and on her face. It was paralyzing but not in a bad way.

It felt good.

It felt like freedom.

It felt like something she could do for the rest of eternity.

It felt-

“HOOPOE!” panicked yell cut through her haze.

Right.

She was plummeting to the ground. She held someone. They would die when they crushed.

She should stop falling.

Could she do it?

She had to.

She dropped off the blue haired woman with the nearest medic squad and ran. Or flew. She wasn’t quite sure. Her brain still didn’t feel right. But she knew she had to leave.

Next thing she knew was the pain from practically collapsing on a wall and dumpster she hid behind. From what, she had no idea. She had no idea about anything.

So she did only thing she still could.

Dani cried.

***

Duke was getting frantic in his search for Dani after that room collapsed. He knew she made it out, he saw her falling head first to the ground. He was trying to catch her but he knew he couldn’t do it on time. And then she caught herself, left Abigail with medics and flew away in a blur. And Duke couldn’t go right after her because some cop had questions. Duke did his best to wrap it up quickly but still by the time he could look Hoopoe was nowhere to be seen. He was straining his eyes trying to see any sign of her but other than the boy with her cape as a blanket there was nothing. He was tempted to ask Babs for help.

Scratch that, he didn’t have time to do this on his own. Pride and this stupid bet be damned. He turned on his comm, not bothering to go off the main channel.

“Oracle, I need you to search for white-haired preteen girl dressed in white and black. Somewhere near Rossaire street. Probably there will be no clear footage”

“Need help in search?” Steph chimed in gently “Spoiler can be there five minutes flat”

Duke considered it for a moment. Steph knew how Dani looked (as much as anyone who saw her only in photos could know how she looked) and wanted to meet girl anyway. She could be useful help. On the other hand, she mentioned before she had some important stuff. And he wasn’t sure how Dani would react to someone unknown finding her in this state. Last thing he wanted was scaring girl even more. He searched road for Dani’s past light, again.

“No, don’t worry. She just got a little overwhelmed”

“Alright, good luck with finding your kid then”

“She is not my kid!”

“Signal who-” Bruce grunted but got interrupted by Babs.

“Turn right, she entered blind zone but I can lead you there”

“Thanks O”

“No invisibility?” Steph mused.

“Thank God for that,” Duke answered, while grappling to the left. He shoot forward as fast as he could ”Or maybe not. She has to be quite out of it”

“Left again”

“Signal, who are you looking for?” Bruce asked again.

“Next alley to the right. It’s the last place I can see her”

“Thanks O.”

“Signal-”

“Later B.”

Duke landed in the alley, turning his comm off. He knew that sooner rather than later he would have to explain himself and would probably get endless teasing but it wasn’t important at the time. He searched again for past light. He run after glimpses. He stopped when he heard sniffle from behind a dumpster. He slowed down, approaching loudly. It wouldn’t do any good to scare her.

“Hoopoe?”

Her breath hitched. Duke sat down next to her far enough to not invide her personal space but close enough to make her feel not alone.

Her face was black from ashes and smoke other than where her mask was and cleaner tracks her tears were making.

Her mask was laying on a ground (clearly forcefully thorn off which ouch), cape obviously nowhere in sight. When she calmed down, he would ask what happened with it. It would probably be a good distraction. But not now.

“Hey kid. Can you try breathing a little slower for me?”

She mumbled something, inaudible between loud wheezing.

“I know it’s hard but I’m sure you can do it. Who if not you?”

Girl visibly tried, shifting around as if she tried to find some much needed comfort. Clearly, the lack of pressure her cape was giving her wasn’t helping.

“How about you try putting hand on my chest and matching my breathing? It often helps”

She moved her hand and he led it to his chest. Dani shuddered.

Slowly, telegraphing his movements Duke extended his arm and put it across Dani’s shoulders. Girl leaned into it with choked sobs.

“I know it was scary,” he muttered as she shook silently “You did so well, Dani”

Girl let out quiet, high-pitched whine that didn’t sound quite human, trapping him in the hug much stronger than child her age should manage. He rubbed her back gently.

They sat in silence, as girl relaxed a bit.

“I officially despise fires. Just not my vibes, y'know,” was the first thing she managed to say. Duke smiled, still trying to comfort her. He knew far too well what she was trying to do. He let her. Every hero needed to retreat to humor every once in a while. Majority of his family and associated vigilantes did it constantly.

“Right here with you”

She looked at him, searching for something on what little she could see on his face.

“You see more, don’t you?” she asked but didn’t wait for an answer “It was too much even with normal eyes. How can you be so calm?”

“I have normal ears and after fifth or tenth time it loses its charm”

“Yeah, okay,” she wheezed out “I didn’t expect the fire to be so loud. And smoke was a bit much in terms of texture and smell and everything”

“I would give you a mask if you waited, you know?”

He felt more than saw how she shrugged. It seemed like she wasn’t exactly listening to him anymore.

“But since you didn’t, we should get you looked up by some professional. You breathed in some nasty stuff”

Dani didn’t respond. Then she sprung up with gasp, a little out of his grasp, not standing but sitting straighter. She grinned, wide, eased thing gracing her lips as fresh tears began to create new paths on her dirty cheeks. She let out a choked laugh, more sign of relief or release of tension than actual happiness. It sounded rougher than usual, probably because of smoke and ashes aggravating her throat.

He wanted to ask what was up but it felt like the wrong time for it.

“He is breathing again” Dani cheered gently, as if unsure before repeating loudly, letting herself believe “THE BOY IS BREATHING AGAIN!”

Girl was shaking again, no bothering with drying tears this time.

Duke could guess what happened. He didn’t want to think about it too hard.

“It’s great to hear”

“Yup!” she grinned between fat tears.

They sat in silence as Dani gradually calmed down again. He knew she didn’t feel all that well yet, she couldn’t but she was probably calm enough to not break down in the middle of the BatBurger.

“I think this day counts as quite bad one,” girl said, wheezing a bit. Duke smiled, knowing where this was going. He ruffled her hair.

“Yeah, I think so too”

None of them said anything for a long moment.

“You’re up for a ‘bad day combo’ Gotham style, Hoopoe?”

“Yup” she smiled.

********

Apartment building: *is on fire*

Dani: It can't be that bad

Narrator voice: It was in fact, much worse

Kid, whose heart stopped thankfully didn't have too many issues tied to it and nothing life treatening long term. Every person who was in the building during fire left relatively unscathed. This fic is supposed to be mostly fluff I'm not killing anyone

Kid who got Dani's cape-blanket refused to phisically let go of it for solid two weeks. Later it still had to be in his sight. Understandable since his life went of the rails and did it hard. Kids ripe age of seven shouldn't be home alone. Especially not for whole day...

Dani: *still clearly shaken* Does your bad day combo include fries?

Duke, on his way to The "I had mental breakdown and need calories" Waffle Foodtrack: No, but we can change it!

Underpayed BatBurger employee: ...

Duke&Dani looking like they've just returned from war:...

Underpayed BatBurger employee: ...

Duke&Dani:...

Underpayed BatBurger employee: *deciding they don't have enough mental energy to care* Welcome to the BatBurger, can I take your bat-order?

Duke: One kids meal, please

Employee at The "I just had mental breakdown and need calories" Waffle Foodtrack, used to seeing Bats crying: *sees Hoopoe munching on her fries but in a sad way* Ah, babiest one got christened by fire already?

Employee: *takes out notebook to note down crazy combo this kid will come up with**they have every Gotham vigilante in here*

Dani: I haven't had a waffle ever before so maybe nuttella and whipped cream? I don't know, sweet?

Employee, offended: Let me surprise you.

It was great waffle, sweet enough to give sugar rush quite big group of preschoolers. It had marshmallows, sprinkles, whipped cream, jellybeans, whatever else this person on the mission found and could mix. Dani absolutely loved and devoured it.

I finally didn't forget to add read more!!!

I really want to draw Dani and Duke togheter but I can't find any pose references that satisfied me. Do you have any good ones? Can be chibi though preferably not

Next part

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dp x dc #dani hangs out with duke #signal got new sidekick and he cares about her deeply #no jokes for this part tags either #though I hope you had fun at Waffle Foodtruck #hoopoe's cape shock blanket #wandixx writes #ghost of fries and hero of cookies #have a nice day dear stranger who got to this part

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