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minniepetals · 1 year

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cry me a river | the habits

— summary: you are a weapon and weapons do not weep

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, mafia!au

— word count: 6.4k

— warnings: physical abuse, violence, mentally unstable mindset

— PART 25 / previous post / masterpost

One.

Two.

Three.

The seconds will pass. The minutes will fly. The hours will go.

You’re alright.

Endure it. Endure it.

It will pass.

Everything will pass just as everything has always passed.

In time, father will raise his hand to indicate them to stop. A stop signal. He may leave the room out of boredom but he will return just as he always does in order to demand them to leave you alone. He will never be satisfied but there is always a limit to everything and father sometimes gets too bored to keep seeing it, to keep hearing it, so he’s always there to stop it.

Eventually.

You just have to endure it for now until the signal comes, until—

“What are you doing?!”

You didn’t realize it and perhaps that’s because you blacked out, your mind keeping you from feeling it all completely, trying to protect you, but you’re sitting on the ground when a call demands out an answer in a loud, commanding voice, and a rushing of a pair of feet running over to push Karl off you.

Asher punches Karl right in the face, throwing him off you, before demanding the guards he has with him to hold the man back.

“She provoked me!” Karl argues like a child in a kid’s play.

He’s never been abruptly stopped before. Always angry, never satisfied.

Nothing is ever enough when it comes to the two of them.

Karl landing hurt through his fists and weapons and anything he can get a hand on. Your father landing hurt through his commands, watching and watching and watching.

And you, their victim, who has to stay down and accept it all until there is a small amount of satisfaction that calls at them to stop.

You always wait on that call, no matter how much endurance it takes.

“That doesn’t make it right to lay your hand on a woman!” Asher retorts with anger laced in his tone, and this anger, despite how different it is from that of Karl’s, still shakes you violently though you keep as still as ever, paralyzed.

Paralyzed.

Even when the anger does not fall on you, even when he does not turn to you but towards the companion who stands behind you, who had stood still this whole time. “And what are you doing? Your boss was getting hit and you just stood there?”

Yeonjun, with a snap on cue, kneels over to your side and looks down at you with widened eyes and a frozen expression. He doesn’t touch you right away, cautious, but you see what those eyes mean, you know exactly what that expression is telling you.

That he, too, had reverted back to the past.

When your father still lived, when he had to stand by and watch everything without moving a muscle.

He reverted back just as you had.

Two little kids, who're still affected by the traumas of the past.

Two little kids.

You take Yeonjun’s hand, giving him the permission to touch you, so he helps you back onto your feet and the two of you remain in silence as you walk off with his help, not daring to look Karl in the eyes, not caring to reply to Asher.

But you feel yourself trembling with the presence of a pair of eyes boring right into your back. Not from Asher or Karl or the two guards but from someone else.

The ghost of him.

Of that man.

That man named father.

“Y/N?” There’s concern in Jungkook’s voice when you walk into the room and you guess that’s probably because of the state you’re in, but right now you can’t entertain him so you simply hold a hand up, asking him to stay back, and Jungkook, though worried, leaves the room on your behalf.

When you’re left alone with Yeonjun, you let your legs give in to sit on the floor rather than finding a chair or taking a seat on the bed.

The floor is comfortable. It’s always been more comfortable.

The boy takes your heels off, along with your jacket, and despite the sting of the pain that aches over your body, the only thing on your mind is the fact that you let it happen so easily, that you allowed yourself to walk back into that state of being an obedient and perfect little doll.

You reverted back to the damages just when you thought after father’s death, you wouldn’t let anyone walk over you anymore.

But it isn’t easy.

It isn’t easy.

And it will never be easy.

Father still lives in your head rent free and there’s nothing you can do about it. No matter how much time has passed, nothing will change. It’s already been a little over a year since his death but he’s still here, still thriving, mocking you, taunting you, controlling everything that you are.

You’re shaking, trembling, not just out of fear but out of anger. Angry at yourself. For being so weak, for reverting back, for thinking things could get better.

And with Yeonjun the only one here with you at the moment, you lean into his touch and let yourself into his arms to allow the sort of warmth only your Reapers can provide you.

Yeonjun’s heartbeat won’t be the same as Mingyu’s, it’s probably even beating rapidly right now, so you don’t let your ear rest against his chest and instead wrap your arms over his neck and climb into his lap to lay your cheek against his shoulder.

Yeonjun brings his hand over to rub down your back but he’s a little awkward and unsure because he’s never really had to do this; comforting you. It’s always been Mingyu, and if Mingyu wasn’t there, it’d be Yuna, and if Yuna couldn’t do it, it’d be Dasom, or someone else.

Anyone else.

He’s only a kid after all, just eighteen years old, the youngest of your Reapers, but because no one else is here, he does his best to pick up the role that’s been given unto him.

Yet you feel him tremble slightly himself and you guess that in some way, he must be afraid as well.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers to you. “I didn’t…I…”

You know what he’s trying to say, that he failed you, that he couldn’t protect you. But can you really blame him? Because just as you’ve been trained to endure through the pains and take everything that’s given unto you, Yeonjun, the Reapers, were trained to stand by and watch.

Habits are scary.

Frightening.

And because you don’t know how to console him and he doesn’t know how to console you, the two of you remain in silence simply holding onto one another.

Just two little kids having to rely on each other.

Just two little kids.

And after a little while, when things have settled a little more, when he starts shaking a little less, Yeonjun gathers himself and forces himself out of the state he’s in.

He stands up and you watch him leave for a second, not too long, because he rushes, and returns with materials in hand to begin tending to you. It remains as quiet as ever between the two of you, but you see the way his brows furrow in concentration and he stops himself from staying in the mindset of a teenager.

Of a child.

He becomes an adult, a reliable adult. For you. Applying what’s needed on the bruises that have swelled up, wrapping your arm with bandages, and when you frown with disgust at the sight of the white wrapping on you, wanting it off, complaining, he doesn’t fall into your trap and stands his ground just as he’s seen Mingyu do plenty of times.

Yeonjun gets frightened of you at times but he always listens to your every command and does all that you ask him within a heartbeat, but today he grows a pair of wings and knocks you lightly on the head with his knuckles when you try to push him away, when you get stubborn with him.

“Do you want to die?” You glare at him but he doesn’t give in.

“You can kill me after I treat you,” he says and continues his ministrations.

“I hate it,” you tell him. “I don’t like it, this…this white.” You try to scratch at yourself but he grabs your hand before you can and your face scrunches up with anguish. “Get it off me.”

You tug the pearls on your neck and it scatters onto the floor but you don’t care and move on to the white dress, yet Yeonjun stops you once more.

“You’ll hurt yourself.”

“I’m not weak.”

“I never said you were.” And because he knows the signs, because he’s seen it plenty of times in you, he grabs the sleeve, rips it, then the hem of the dress, and tears that as well without doing too much. “See? Look. Imperfect.” You hate perfect things and seeing that, the tears of the dress, alleviate a bit of your drumming heartbeat, so Yeonjun grabs a pair of scissors to start cutting off bits of your dress.

All your life you’ve been told to be perfect, that everything you do must be under the command of your father. He made you into his perfect little doll, his perfect little weapon, prepared you for the battlefield, prepared you for war.

For the war that he brought, for the war that was his.

Or rather, he was the war itself.

You are a weapon, and weapons do not weep. Weapons are used and weapons do not run off on their own. Weapons are perfect, they fire at the command of their owner, they’re silent when told, and left to waste if they do not do their job.

You’ve never wanted to be left to waste, you’ve never wanted to be dropped back into an empty room, the White Room, and never picked up again.

“I look broken,” you utter a whisper as if shocked at the image of yourself when you look down at the mess of your dress and the white bandages on your body. Your brows are knitted, teeth grinding on each other, fingers dug into the skin of your palm, eyes red but as always, they refuse to cry.

Because weapons do not weep.

And Yeonjun, for a second, almost panics, thinking he did something wrong, but in Mingyu’s wise words, “Just because it looks like I know what I’m doing when it comes to boss does not mean that is the truth. It is far from the truth. There are times when it feels like I’ve messed up, times when I’m about to panic because she responds differently from what I imagined, but you cannot ever show her that you do not know what you’re doing. Ever. Just pretend when you’re in that position, and if you’re good at pretending, she won’t know a thing,” Yeonjun quickly pulls himself back up.

“You don’t look broken,” he puts the scissors down and takes your two trembling fists. “You look imperfect.”

You look imperfect.

Imperfect.

It does the trick.

He sees the way the crease between your brows starts to soften, how your clenched jaw loosens, the way you let him help your fingers unravel from the strength they held digging into yourself, and how your shoulders fall a bit from being so hunched up.

“I look imperfect?” You ask him, eyes wide and puppy-like, darting right to him and though they shake slightly, they look towards him for an answer, for reassurance, to detect any lie, to seek for the truth. But also pleading, also begging for him to say just that.

Even if the lie must disguise itself as the truth.

“You do,” so Yeonjun lies skillfully. “You look imperfect, boss.”

There’s a breath of relief, quiet and subtle, and it comes in a whisper just barely there. Yeonjun keeps you close and presses a palm to your chest, just where your heartbeat strums.

“Now count,” he tells you. “Mingyu says counting is good, right? Count until he gets here.”

“Is he coming?” You ask when he takes both your hands to take over where his palm once lay.

“Yes,” he lies again. He hasn’t made the call yet. “Soon.”

“You have to stay here.”

“I will.”

“No one can come in.”

“I know.”

“Don’t talk to him, don’t let Karl anywhere near me.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“I’m tired.”

“Alright, come here.” He pulls you in carefully into his lap, in his arms, and you let yourself be warmed and comforted in his arms once more, this time with your back pressed to his chest.

“I don’t want to sleep,” you tell him. “The nightmares…they’ll come. He’ll come. He’ll visit. And he’ll try to make me perfect all over again.”

He. Your father.

“I don’t want to be perfect.” It isn’t a command, it’s a plea. A desperate cry for help.

“Then don’t sleep. But count the heartbeats, yeah? Count.” The soft lure of his voice, gentle, encouraging.

With hands still pressed against your chest, you let your ear tune out everything else in order to hear the beat of your heart so that you can start counting them.

One. Two. Three…

It’s fast and you know that you can’t completely count every individual one of them but you try your best to simply concentrate on only that while your eyes stare out at the window a few feet away. The sun shines brightly from the opened curtains and there’s a small little bird perched on the closest tree.

It jumps onto a branch and rests there with its head moving about in different directions.

There are pretty white clouds up above and one of the bigger ones shapes like a castle and you imagine fairies up there, hiding.

There’s another cloud that looks like a cat and another one shaped like a ghost.

The wind blows and your eyes turn back to the bird that flies off.

Thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five…

It’s slowing down, just slightly.

“I heard what happened this afternoon.”

Kiwi keeps you distracted as he nibbles with your finger. You can’t recall when he’s decided to hang around you rather than his own master whenever you’re around but at least it gives you a reason to not look someone in the eyes.

“Would you like to tell me what happened from your perspective?”

Thirty-something years old. You can’t even remember just how old you are but lately, it hasn’t mattered in the slightest because you feel much younger than what you actually are. Like you’re twenty-something. Even a teen. It doesn’t feel like you’ve aged much.

Your birthday hasn’t been celebrated since your time at the Bangtan manor but it doesn’t really matter. Nothing really matters.

Because you feel like a kid back under the control of your father, having to do what you’re told, obeying his every command like someone who can’t do anything on her own.

Under scrutiny.

“What did Karl tell you?” You pop a question of your own, eyes still unfocused, mind still trying to pretend you’re fine, that you’re okay in a room full of strangers.

There’s only one stranger but a stranger nonetheless.

“He said you provoked him.”

“That’s right.” You don’t deny it and instead nod, expression blank so that Alexander cannot tell what’s going on inside your head. And maybe he does, maybe all of this faking is futile because he’s so wise, but you don’t care. You keep still, you keep vague, and you remain cold.

“Is that so…?” He trails off, perhaps thinking, and you can feel his eyes never leaving you. “And what was it that you did to have provoked him?”

“I told him something he didn’t like.”

“And what’s that?”

“That I killed his best friend.”

“And did you?”

“I did.”

“And who was that?”

“My father.”

He pauses, perhaps because he hadn’t expected that answer but you’re sure he’s thinking back on the moment when you first mentioned your father to him. The “story” you gave him was that your father passed away and was a good friend of Karl’s, though you never mentioned anything else about it.

And now here’s the answer; you killed him yourself.

“Is that why you let Karl do what he did?” He asks you. “Because you thought you deserved the punishment for what you did? Some people may not regret their actions but they’ll let the person most affected do something against them. Was that how it was?”

No.

No, not at all.

You didn’t let Karl hurt you because you knew he’d be hurt by what you did. You didn’t let him hurt you because you thought he at least deserved to lash his anger out on you. Or that you felt bad. Or that you wanted some sort of punishment. Or that you were repenting.

You let Karl hurt you because you’d always let him hurt you, just as you’d always let everyone hurt you.

Because that was how it always was.

A habit.

Being the weaker one, being the one who would chant the words endure, endure because that was what was instilled in you from the moment Mister Butler died. You cannot get out of your habits that easily, you do not just get stronger because you vow to yourself you will.

You don’t just get stronger and you certainly don’t just decide ‘I won’t let anyone step over me anymore’ and succeed on the first try.

Or the second try.

Or the third.

Even the tenth or hundredth time.

You let Karl hurt you because you were used to it and your body, remembering how it always was before your father died, returned to those habits.

The habits of staying still, the habits of enduring all that came at you.

“Yes.” But you lie because what else is there to say? You lie because there is nothing else to say. Because you don’t want to tell the truth. Because the truth means explaining and explaining means opening up and opening up means trusting and trusting never ends well.

You lie because you have to.

“That is all there is to it.” You put Kiwi down onto the floor and stand up straight, making sure to look in the old man’s direction with your hands held together in a formal stance. “Karl’s story is the whole truth. I deserved what he did, for killing his best friend, for killing my father.”

His brows are furrowed and you sense doubt in his eyes but because he has no proof and because you’re not willing to share anything else with him, he can’t push you too hard about the matter. “Whether that is the truth or not, do you really think a man much older and bigger has the right to hurt a woman younger and smaller in stature? No–” he fixes his sentence, “do you think a man is in his right to hurt a woman?”

“A man is capable of hurting anything that he wishes to hurt. He is in the power to do so.”

“You are strong, Y/N.” He stands to meet your eyes, serious, calm, and collected, but there’s a little twitch in his brows to indicate that he feels a bit frustrated by the situation. “You are capable of dodging his attacks. Even if a man were much bigger and stronger than you, you have the brains to outsmart them. You don’t look like someone who will easily let someone else step all over you.”

No. You are exactly just that. You are still the little girl you thought had changed. You’re still weak.

“So I’ll ask you again, Y/N; why did you let Karl hurt you?”

You hate feeling caged in and right now, despite the fact that only Alexander stands in this room, you feel eyes from all over. And maybe that’s just you being paranoid, maybe you’re just making it all up in your head, but you hate every bit of it.

Every bit of this.

“I gave you my answer, take it with a grain of salt. Do not pretend to be on my side.” And with that, you turn your back to him and walk off without another word.

Alexander doesn’t chase after you but you feel his eyes.

It’s ironic the way you’re supposed to be the one trying to gain his favor and yet this happens; you pushing him away and putting up your walls. And Asher makes sure to remind you of that.

“Isn’t the whole point of you being here to gain his favor?”

He stops you in the middle of the hall when you’re heading back to the guest room.

“Why?” He asks, genuinely curious, maybe even with a bit of genuine concern in that tone.

“Maybe I’m tired,” you say in a quiet voice.

“Of?”

“Of trying to be likable.”

He hums, considering the answer with his arms crossed over his chest and leaning against the wall. “And that young bodyguard of yours,” he brings up Yeonjun, “he may be a kid but don’t you think he deserves punishment for failing you?”

“No.” You reply easily and Asher raises a brow.

“You won’t punish him?”

“I don’t blame him.”

He watches you as if you were a strange being, like you weren’t making sense, though there’s a bit of unease that marks his features, some sort of disturbance that troubles his thoughts and you realize that you’ve said too much so you start walking again.

“My people aren’t allowed to act unless I tell them to.”

But Asher doesn’t want to leave it with just that. “You wanted my uncle to hurt you?”

“Nobody wants to get hurt willingly, Asher.”

“Then what is it?”

You’re talking too much.

“It is none of your concern, that’s what it is.” With that, you pick up your steps and walk into the room before he can push you any further.

Jungkook is in there when you walk in, and although being left in a room with just him should trigger some sort of response, surprisingly you don’t tremble that easily and perhaps that’s due to the fact that somehow, in some way, your body just knows that Jungkook doesn’t pose any threat to you. Perhaps because somehow, in some way, you’ve learned to put some trust in him in just the slightest way through the times he’s spent acting as your guard.

It’s been a little over a month.

Mingyu came here prior to your meeting with Alexander and surprisingly you didn’t need him as much as you thought you did. You think that’s because Yeonjun managed to calm you down well, despite his perpetual fear in the beginning. He picked himself up in time, after all, and was there for you by mirroring what Mingyu would have done.

Maybe in some ways, your right hand man has trained all the Reapers in how to respond to you when he isn’t around.

He took Yeonjun away for something, though right now you aren’t too concerned about it.

“..Kook.”

You feel tired, you feel drained, and that’s why you’ve managed to only call Jungkook by a shortened name.

He’s responsive at the first call, despite how quiet your voice is, and when he sees that you’ve given him permission to come in close contact with you, he doesn’t hesitate to walk over to you.

“Do you need something?”

It’s odd the way you feel some sort of relief he’s as responsive as he used to be all those years ago. Maybe because a part of Jungkook will always remain the way that he always was, maybe that’s why you’ve learned to associate him with a figure that you can put a bit of trust in.

“When are they coming?”

“They?” He tilts his head and when you reach a hand out towards him, he takes it in order to help you because you feel your legs are weak in the knees.

“Namjoon. Them.” He takes you to the bed so that you can lie down.

“In a month or so,” he replies. “You said as much time as you need to gain Alexander’s favor but the latest would be in a month.”

You’re already winning so what’s the point in waiting?

It’s been a month, over a month.

You just want to go home already.

“Can you call him?”

Jungkook looks for his phone. “What for?”

“Tell him to come earlier,” you say, body turned over towards him, cheek against the pillow, eyes drowsy. “In a week. I don’t…Karl has…I want him dead.”

For a second his thumb hovers over his phone to look back over at you and there he finds, the little girl he’s seen holding her walls up so high not even a plane can cross over, beginning to crumble in just the slightest way.

You look exhausted.

The makeup does not hide the bags under your eyes, it doesn’t hide the exhaustion, how drained you are over all of this. And maybe a part of that is due to your insisting to stay awake when you needed sleep but a big part of it is the mission itself.

Every mission is a little different from the other, but Jungkook has come to know that every one of them involves someone who has sucked all that sweet girl energy out of you. They’ve all done you wrong and it can’t be easy. It can’t be easy having to face all of them one by one, trying to deal with it all, trying to rid of them, and ultimately as a result, hurting yourself in the process.

“Kook?” Your eyes went closed for a second but upon his silence, you open them up again in order to look up at him, and due to your exhaustion, he finds the pretty girl he once loved all those years ago with the smallest voice as if calling out for him in a sense of help.

“I-I’ll call.” He’s flustered, slightly, but hits the call button with his thumb and walks towards the bathroom. “Stay awake, alright? I won’t be away for too long.”

He closes the door behind him to start looking around for something just as Namjoon picks up on the other end.

“Jungkook?”

“Y/N wanted me to tell you to come earlier.”

“Earlier?” It’s surprising on his end because just the night before, you told him to stick to the original plan. “Did something happen?” Of course something must’ve happened for you to change your mind so quickly.

In some ways you’re just as stubborn as he is, so he knows you aren’t someone who will change your mind that easily.

“This afternoon, uh…” Jungkook hesitates, not sure if it’s okay to relay him the news but something tells him you probably expect Jungkook to not stay silent about it to the boys. They share everything with each other after all, and if you really cared, you wouldn’t have let him anywhere near you after what happened. “Karl, you know, after touching her when she felt uncomfortable?” He did mention the incident a few weeks ago to Namjoon already. “Well, Y/N took up his invitation to tea in order to catch up and stuff and I assume she pissed him off.”

Somehow, Namjoon expected that. After all, you hinted at doing something reckless during your call with him.

“I’m not sure what happened exactly because I wasn’t there but Karl hit her.”

“What?” There’s some shuffling on the other end. “What do you mean hit her?”

“Not just once. She has bruises as a result.”

“Bruises?”

“I should get back to her, she might fall asleep but I’ll catch up with you later.” He doesn’t wait for Namjoon’s reply before cutting the call off and returning to your side out of worry that leaving you alone for too long won’t be good, and the fact that you might have actually fallen asleep on him.

Surprisingly you’re still awake, though your eyes are as droopy as they were when he left you.

“Can you turn over on your back?” Is the first thing he asks of you and you obey, turning over. The bed dips a little when he takes a seat beside you and that’s when you feel he begins to take your lashes off.

“You know there’s a lot of processes that go into taking off makeup, right?” You tell him when he takes the other one off.

“I know, bub, I’ve done it before.”

Right.

He’s helped you before.

“So just stay still, yeah? You don’t have to do anything.”

You listen to the lure of his voice, as soft as the way he used to speak to you all those years ago, and let your eyes close as he begins to swipe the makeup wipe over your face. It’s gentle the way he does it, almost as gentle as Dasom, and although he’s a little clumsy and isn’t as fast as she is, he does his best during it all.

When the makeup wipe is done, you feel your hair pushed back and a band coming over to keep it out of the way, then some sort of cloth on your chest and tied behind your neck.

Warm water walks over your face. Bits of it, not too much, not too little, so that you don’t get too wet anywhere else, and then the feel of soapy foam begins to rub in circles all over your face. The massage feels nice and you almost feel your consciousness slipping away but you keep awake to the touch of Jungkook’s hands.

About a minute later, he soaks a washcloth into water and starts to wipe the cleanser off you so that you don’t have to sit up and wash it off with water yourself.

It takes a moment but eventually, he gets it done, and then you feel a wet cotton pad swipe over next.

Something about all of this, the steps he memorized either for you from the past or the fact that he now does it himself regularly, feels rather domestic and just…soft.

And in your sleepy and tired state, you feel anything but uncomfortable, lured in with the feeling of basking on top of clouds with your head bathing under the warm sun with light little pitter patters of rain sprinkling over you.

You don’t know why you enjoy this so much despite how different it feels from when Dasom does it for you, but knowing that your trust is beginning to leak outside of Reapers somehow brings a sort of comfort you never thought you’d feel.

It’s a little frightening because trusting is always scary, especially for people that had once broken it, but for some reason, it just…feels right.

Somehow.

And maybe that’s because you know they were never at fault in the first place, that they were just forced into making an unwanted decision.

Jung Hoseok would probably be in the same position as they were were he to realize the truth all those years ago. If he hadn’t gotten hurt on that mission. If he hadn’t been forced to lay on the infirmary bed in order to recover. If he hadn’t stood away from the six of them.

Even still, as you’ve said it plenty of times before, just because someone doesn’t mean them doesn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt.

In the safe space that they provided you, you were kicked out of your own comfort and forced to return to the hell you thought you had escaped.

“Why do you not cry?” His voice keeps you awake and when you look up at him through your lashes, eyes feeling quite dreary and heavy, he finds himself pausing in his ministrations as he stares down at you who’s looking up directly at him.

“Why do you ask that?” You return a question, voice just as soft.

Jungkook’s eyes trail down your face. “Karl…he…” he didn’t see what happened but the aftermath of it is right before his eyes. “And Leehyun and…..” He presses his lips together. “You have..so much to cry for.”

“...Do I now?”

“Is there nothing left?” He asks, a hand brushing back small strands of hair that tries to block your eyes.

You don’t nod because you’re too tired to move so you nod through a blink. “It’s all dried up.”

From the water that he used to clean your face, a drop falls from your lash and trails down your cheek, mirroring what a teardrop looks like, and then you say, “But…if I knew how to cry……do you think you deserve to see them?”

He doesn’t reply but you have your answer.

He doesn’t feel worthy.

This Jungkook and the Jungkook you once knew long ago are the same in the way they always feel unworthy of something. No matter how many times you can assure him, he will always think there is something he can do better, that he is undeserving, that he can never be enough.

But unlike idiots who simply say “I don’t deserve you” and go about their days after breaking your heart, Jungkook says it and steps up to do what he can to try and prove to himself that he can be someone deserving.

He always did all that he could and when there came a point when he looked as if he could finally come to terms with being at peace with his love for you, it was ripped away from him all too soon and now he’s back to square one, trying to prove himself.

Even if it isn’t in the form of love.

Jungkook will always care.

But even still,

“I still hate you.”

It comes out soft, it comes out quiet, and a little timid and a little brave, but you hadn’t meant for it to come out.

If you were wide awake, if you weren’t in such a vulnerable state, you would have never spoken those words to him. But because your consciousness is on the verge of slipping away, you speak them out loud for him to hear.

“I know.” And he replies in the same voice, the same softness, quiet, and timid, and brave.

He doesn’t leave your side even after those exchanges uttered unto each other and you fall asleep next to his presence, next to his comfort, next to his warmth.

Jungkook wasn’t there when Taehyung said he witnessed you sleepwalking but he said that it wasn’t the sort of sleepwalking you’d see in a normal person. He said you looked like a ghost more than anything, and that at times, you’d just stand still in the middle of the room and not move an inch.

No, not a ghost. A corpse.

And now here he is, after endless refusal to sleep and finally allowing your eyes to stay closed, he witnesses what Taehyung had meant.

A corpse standing still in the middle of the room, blanket over her shoulders, eyes staring up at the dim sky outside the window, blank and without any hint of life in them.

He watches you from a distance, a furrow in his brows, with his tongue bitten back and his fists clenched by his side.

Subtle anger lies in his heart, brewing, not at you but towards the world that has made you into the sort of person you are today. Or maybe it had always been this way, maybe you had always been hurting and he just never noticed, maybe it was always like this all along and maybe, perhaps, they made it worse when they left you all alone to fend for your own self.

Feeding you to the wolves.

He’s angry not just at the world but at himself and Jungkook knows that if the truth were to ever leave your lips about what actually happened to you, about all the things that you’ve gone through, he knows that this hatred he feels right now is only but a small fraction waiting to build up before it all breaks into the tiniest little pieces.

Shattering in the way he had broken you.

Shattered.

The world can only do so much but he encouraged it by standing by, by letting it all fall down onto you, by letting himself be convinced that you’d be fine, that everything would be alright.

But nothing turned out alright.

In the days and months and years that followed your absence, they returned to how things were, returned to loving one another, accepting one another, forgiving one another. But in those days and months and years, he can only imagine what sort of events you had to face.

While they had each other, while they always had each other to lean on, did you have anyone by your side?

The Reapers may be one thing, supporting you and giving you their utmost loyalty, but did they ever hold power over the things that happened to you in the way Namjoon could have handled it? In the way he would have handled it?

“Y/N?” You don’t answer him when he calls out to you but he expected that so he walks on over to where you’re standing.

You’re as still as ever, and he approaches with a careful, watchful gaze, hesitant when he reaches a finger over to you.

A small touch to the blanket, just over your shoulder, and when you don’t freak out or move away from him, he puts two fingers.

Then another.

And when you don’t react to his hand, he proceeds to place a hand on your head and press it towards his chest.

You don’t resist.

“Come on, let’s head back to bed, yeah?” And understanding that you’re okay with him even in this lifeless state of yours, because he knows your body is capable of telling the people you trust and don’t trust apart, he puts his other hand under your knees and picks you up to carry you over back to the bed.

You comply well with him despite your unresponsive self, and when he tucks you back in with the blanket pulled over your chest, he looks back to see your eyes staring straight toward him. Empty yet lonely.

Vacant.

Not at him but through him, and his heart aches a little at the sight.

“You’re alright now,” Jungkook whispers. “You’re alright.”

If Hoseok had been here, would he have been able to do a better job looking after you?

Jungkook wishes he could have been better.

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sunandsstars · 2 years

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YAWNETU

CHAPTER 1

Jake x Neytiri x Na’vi!Reader

Summary: One other mate was enough, but two? Unneeded. ___ was the outcast, the unwanted woman. Jake and Neytiri wouldn’t ever see her..right?

Warnings: Talks of war, Briefly mentions death/Bodily harm, Angst, Swearing, Non-con Word count: 2.4k

A/N: Here it is people, the angst series :( Prepare yourselves

Taglist: @itsyoboysparkel @dumb-fawkin-bitch @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @fanboyluvr

Having one mate was enough for a Na’vi, they did not need another to deal with or weigh them down. It was a huge commitment and for most, a waste of time. More than one significant other was a rare case these days anyway, usually only reserved for Na’vi of a higher ranking, like an Olo’eyktan or Tsahìk.

Jake didn’t know that the Na’vi can bond with more than one at a time until Grace brought it to his attention one day, “Na’vi will mate with only one other person for their whole life, unless duty brings them to marry another” she stated, smoking a cigarette haphazardly in the lab room, eyeing the man who sat uninterested in his wheelchair.

Mating. Jake thought it sounded primal, animalistic, something the creatures back on Earth used to do just to get a quick fuck. But when Neytiri brought it up and he finally experienced it himself, it could only be described as sublime. He’s never felt such feelings, emotions. You share them with your partner in such a deep level it left him feeling breathless.

Following their mating the skypeople attacked and cut down the Tree of Voices, severing one of their main connections to their ancestors. That’s when he realised it was time for war. Several clans joined the mighty Toruk Makto to fight for Pandora, when he called they answered. But the battle was bloody, long and gruelling, they all lost brothers and sisters that day. But at least now they will find peace in Eywa’s warm embrace.

The Great Sorrow then became something of the past and the Omaticaya were relocated to an area by Hellsgate, the humans and Na’vi finally living in harmony but not peace, a lot preferring to still shun the aliens away from their home.

But the forest provided tall trees to cover them from predators and plenty of abundance, humans will also be with their technology inside an environment they can thrive in, so each side wins. Jake had finally been anointed as Olo’eyktan with Neytiri being his tsakarem, the couple couldn’t be more happier with the way things have become, fully believing the skypeople will not return.

But happiness must soon come to an end.

“Ma sa’nok! Why?! Why must we be mated to her?! She is useless!” Neytiri yelled angrily at her mother, the Tsahìk, she has just been told her mother has been seeing visions in her sleep and suspected Eywa was trying to tell her something. This ‘something’ was about her child’s third mate, which she did not anticipate.

“All of our roles play an important part here daughter” Mo’at glared, has she taught her child no less? “your new wife will be a good edition to your family and therefore the clan. It must be done, Eywa has spoken”

Neytiri did not understand, her and Jake were happy together. Alone. They did not need another person to ruin the balance of their life. She turned around sharply to her husband who was sat on the ground by the tree of souls, urging him to make an opinion on the matter with a glare. Jake coughed.

“I agree Mo’at. We are fine together just as it is”

“This is not your decision to make Jake Sully. The great mother will not be happy, she has done this for a reason and we must trust her judgement. She has shown me what will happen if this does not happen, you and your family will fall under a great despair, it will disrupt all we have made” Jake’s ears perked up, alarmed, ‘what does she mean a great despair’. As his thoughts started to turmoil Neytiri continued to talk to her mother, coming to an understanding that it was the way of life. She cannot disregard Eywa’s wishes.

With a huff she walked towards Jake and pulled him up by the arm with no effort, eyes a glare and ears pinned to her head. She walked away and towards her new ikran, ready to get back to camp. “So.. do you know who we’re supposed to mate?”

“Srane”

“Are you gonna tell me?” They flew into the air, Bob screeching as they went above the trees, staying low to the forest. Neytiri didn’t answer his question and stayed silent, shit. He was just a man, a man who knows when NOT to anger a woman, especially one like her. He decided to not take it any further.

Arriving back to Hellsgate they dismounted and landed onto the floor, Jake greeting the humans who passed by them, taking samples from the nature. Neytiri walked up to where the food was being prepared, a group of woman sat by some small children who they looked after while parents were away doing chores. She grabbed one of ladies by the arm and dragged her towards Jake who only stared in confusion. Soon morphing into realisation.

“Introduce yourself” The warrior exclaimed harshly. Knowing that Mo’at has already told her of the plans, she knew going to her daughter first would cause another war and the elder planned to avoid it. So telling the new mate first was the best option for everyone.

“___ te Syakx Hìfey’ite” the woman’s ears lowered to her head and she faced the ground. The pain in her arm where Neytiri gripped was hard, sure to bruise. “I am a gatherer, a healer. I do not hunt like you or -“ Neytiri squeezed her arm to silence her, having enough of her talking.

They were close in age, both eighteen years old and fully grown adults. They both attended Grace’s school together growing up, they were close. ___ was closer with Neytiri’s sister though, Sylwanin. When she died, the younger sister blamed everything on the other girl. Cursing her out and they never talked again until now.

___ was nervous, she knew she had to mate with them, both of them. She knew that the other woman was angry at her still, even after two years. She could not blame her for the grief of her sibling. But over something she did not do? She was not at fault here.

“Nice to meet you” Jake said curtly, not really wanting to talk any further. He did not like the idea of a second mate either, even on Earth it was extremely taboo so he felt awkward on the matter. Neytiri let go of her arm and dragged Jake off, presumably to talk about anything but the ceremony that is supposed to be held later today. Announcing the decisions their Tsahìk has made to the clan, surely they would all be most pleased. ___ could not say the same towards the couple who walked off.

One part of her thought that they just wanted to be alone for a while, being more recently mated and being thrown into another relationship was confusing and disrupting, she understood that. But the more rational part knew that while Neytiri continued to dislike her, she knew their life together would be filled with nothing but pain and suffering. But she would put on a brave face. For her own sake and the clans. Eywa has spoken.

But is what Eywa saying right?

She was correct, the clan was most happy. Despite some whisperings here and there, they would have to agree that they would all make a good trio. ___ was a good healer, she was gifted with her skills. She was also good to the elderly and children, always happy with a smile on her face. Neytiri was a good huntress and a Tsahìk in training, her battle abilities are most adored on. Jake, he was their Toruk Makto, Rider of Last Shadow. He was well respected in that alone.

But while the Omaticaya was happy, she was not. Sat next to Jake on his left she was left to eat in silence as him and Neytiri conversed without her. Not even looking in her direction once. She figured that they would not talk to her all through the night and decided to make peace with herself.

A little girl tapped her shoulder and ___ turned around to face one of the children she often looked after, Sray. “You are going to be mated to them?” she looked at her Olo’eyktan and his wife, yellow eyes wide.

___ nodded and forced a smile on her face “Yes, Sray. I will be” she stated softly, not comfortable with saying the revelation out loud.

Suddenly Sray sniffed, doe eyes watering “does that mean you will not have time for us anymore? Please sa’nu! I do not want you to leave!” the sweet girl jumped in the adults arms and clung to her chest, fearing that if she let go, ___ will disappear.

“Ma ‘evi, I will always have time for you and everyone else, just because I will be mated, does not mean I will not see you ever again” ___ kissed Sray’s head, wiping her little tears and grinning. Bringing comfort to the girl, Sray smiled back, still sniffling.

“LeNa’vi! Fìtxon awnga fpe’ pxefo mìso!” the people cheered, raising their drinks and whooping. The three will be mated under the tree of souls, to legitimise the union.

Jake and Neytiri looked at each other, worry in the man’s and anger in the woman’s. They did not want to do anything with her, but would have to make it look like they had, they were not stupid. If they did not do this then the people will become angry, it would be a disgrace. Only the great mother shall know.

Standing up, Jake held his large hand out to his wife who took it. Letting go and walking towards the direction of the tree, they would not take the ikran, but rather run through the night. Jake then turned to look at ___ who still sat with Sray in her warm arms, he nodded his head to the direction Neytiri went and followed her.

A little hurt that he did not offer his hand to her, ___ kissed Sray’s forehead and stood up, walking after them. As they got deeper into the forest they began to run, ___ tried her best to catch up but the two were hunters, they were more used to navigating the thickness of the fauna better than her.

“W-Wait!” she called in English, but the two ignored her and ran further ahead of her. ___’s ears slicked back and she huffed to herself, heart beating erratically with annoyance.

At some point the jungle got too thick for her to get through and she paused, the two she was following nowhere in sight. She twisted around, straining her ears to hear any calls or footsteps to help guide her. But to no avail, she lost them. Meaning she herself did not know where she was, this part of the forest was so much further out from the old hometree, a part she has not navigated before.

Her breathing started to speed up, panicking. Did they leave her? Alone? Here? She knew they did not like her, but this was too much. It was past eclipse and night, anything could come to kill her.

A rough hand grabbed her arm, the same one Neytiri held earlier that day and turned her around. An angry Jake stood there with brows furrowed, fangs bared. “Why did you stop?” he growled, ears slicked back “you were supposed to follow, not stop and sightsee like a lunatic!”

She did not know what that word meant, but by his tone it was something mean. Her own ears pressed against her head and her tail tucked between her legs, she yelped as she was harshly dragged through the forest, Jake never letting go of her arm even as they got to the tree of souls.

He let go and stood next to Neytiri who had her queue attacked to one of the hanging branches, tendrils letting go and she broke the bond. Turning to see ___ with a hand on her arm, the bruises were darker than before, the sting aching the area and making her hesitant to move it.

The warrior glared at her and snarled “you will have a baby put in you, as it is the way. But we are not bonding. Never. You will deal with that shame” she barked in Jake’s native tongue, her words were harsh and the prospect of not bonding with the only people she could was demeaning, it brought water to her yellow eyes. This was low, a baby without a bond was seen as disgrace. She would bring great shame to Na’vi.

“Neytiri-“

“Kem si ke plltxe kurkung!” ___ closed her mouth, she did not want to anger Neytiri further than she has. Jake, who stood watching the ordeal, strolled towards ___ and pushed her down onto the ground, pulling her loincloth to the side and doing the same to his.

“Pey! Oe kawkrr-“ her words were again cut off as pain filled her lower abdomen, he entered her. It was her first time and he just did it so fast without considering her feelings. Tears streamed down her soft cheeks, pained noises leaving her mouth as Jake started to move. He manhandled her onto her stomach, pressing his hand to her lower back above her tail bone, if the pain at her core wasn’t enough then the sensitive space on her back was.

Neytiri simply watched as her glare burned holes into the girl beneath her, the person that ruined her life. That took her sister away from her, took everything. She was not going to welcome this destroyer into her family, never. She’ll make sure ___ and her children will be shamed, if not by the people then by her own kids and husband.

___ felt something warm release inside of her, oozing out of her hole. She felt Jake lift off of her and heard him step towards his mate, both of them softly talking to one another while ___ was left to curl up, sobbing quietly. The man that was supposed to care for her, supposed to love her, took her dignity and now her first child.

Her heart squeezed in her chest as she could only imagine the future to come.

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#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ yawnetu #avatar 2009 #avatar the way of water #x reader #atwow #avatar x reader #atwow x reader #avatar the way of water x reader #na’vi #angst #series #jake sully #neytiri #poly #unwanted marriage

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sevensinswithin · 2 months

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anyone interested in hearing about my alicent & laenor lavender marriage canon divergent au set in a world where viserys never remarries and actually prioritizes rhaenyra as his heir?

#rhaenicent #rhaewin #yeah rhaenyra's poly. because she can be. she deserves all the kisses.#alicent & laenor lavender marriage au #alicent hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #laenor velaryon #joffrey lonmouth #laenor x joffrey #harwin strong #hotd #house of the dragon #illium.txt

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synnamonroll666 · 9 months

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THEY ARE ENGAGED?!?! 🤯😱

#mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #mortal kombat reptile #mk reptile #reptile #mortal kombat syzoth #mk syzoth #syzoth #mortal kombat ashrah #mk ashrah #ashrah #I didn't really know what the word meant until I looked it up. 😅#I'm happy for them both! They both deserve happiness. 🥹💚🤍#Now to make headcanons of myself worming my way into the marriage. 🤣#They make me more and more poly each day. 🤭

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valentinetypewriter · 1 year

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Me and My Husband-Chapter 1

Summary + series masterlist

Main masterlist // marauders era masterlist

This is a slow burn wolfstar x reader/arranged marriage au

Word count : 2,724

The Marauders had all piled up into a carriage of the Hogwarts Express, sweets and lollies littering the seats and floor as they talked all about their break from school. Sirius had of course spent most of his break with the Potters once again before having to go back home before the start of their new school year. "We went to this muggle movie theatre and it was amazing, I've never been to one before" Sirius was currently spouting out about all the things he had done with James, not having a chance to do those kinds of things in his own home. "It was quite fun until we almost got kicked out because Padfoot here wouldn't shut up!" James spoke up with a humorous tone. "Well enough about that, how did your guys break go?" Sirius asked the other two boys after giving James a slight shove. Remus spoke up first "I went to visit my grandparents, they live out in the countryside, so it was nice to have some peace and quiet finally" Peter timidly spoke, a hint of concern in his voice. "Did you handle the full moons alright?" Remus gave a slight nod "it's a pretty secluded area, plus lots of room to run around" He gave Peter a smile to ease up any concern he had for the young Werewolf.

The rest of the trip was filled with mindless talk about more stuff that happened during their break, what kind of pranks they were planning this year and of course relationships. Sirius seemed to stiffen as soon as the topic had been brought up. Peter droned on about his new hufflepuff girlfriend he had gotten at the end of last year before asking the others if they had any crushes or anything. "Well I can't say I have one yet, but who knows this year I might get lucky" James said with a huge dorky grin on his face. After being rejected by Lily Evans far too many times the boy had decided it was best to move on, and now without the constant attempts to gain her affection they had become close friends. Sirius hadn't contributed much to the conversation though, in fact he hadn't spoken a word since Peter had brought the topic up. Although James and Peter didn't notice, the two boys continued with meaningless conversation. Remus on the other hand had noticed how Sirius was unusually quiet, his stormy eyes didn't look away from the window he was leaning against until the scarred hand of the tall boy touched his knee gently "you alright padfoot?" Remus's soft voice had always been pleasant to his ears. Sirius gave a small nod and faked a smile, though Remus could always tell when someone was faking a smile he just always knew, tilting his head as his eyebrows furrowed, clearly not believing what he had said. It scared Sirius just how much of an open book he seemed to Remus, though he guessed everyone felt that way about the tall boy. He knew Remus knew he was lying, he leant down towards him "I'm here if you need anything Sirius" giving him a soft smile, everything about Remus Lupin was soft, his hair, his voice, his warm skin and even the sweaters he always wore. Thankfully though he didn't press on, just leaving his large warm hand on Sirius's knee.

The train ride had come to an end soon after that, the four rowdy boys rushing off the train. All laughing like madmen at some stupid joke James had said. "Let's get to hogwarts quickly I'm starved" Sirius said with an over dramatic and drawn out sigh, James slung his arm around him as a laugh was drawn out from him "yeah because you totally didn't have enough from the trolley" Sirius elbowed him in the side, although that did nothing to discourage James. "Yeah padfoot you would've brought her whole stock if Moony hadn't stopped you" Peters jab had James cracking up all over again. Even Remus let out a small laugh, though Sirius just huffed "you're all the worst" shaking his head at his three friends. "Yeah but you'd be lost without us" James stated, ruffling up the hair of his best friend. As they continued walking Sirius caught sight of the one person he dreaded seeing around the school other than his younger brother, Y/n l/n, or as he referred to her since their last meeting during their break, the absolute bane of his existence. The sight of the expensive jewellery she wore on her hand made his thoughts bubble with anger, she was just as pompous and up herself as ever. He quickly dismissed the thoughts of her, not wanting to think more of it.

The four friends eventually found their way to the great hall, watching on as new 1st years were getting sorted. The boys were certainly the loudest when new students were sorted into Gryffindor. After the sorting and the same speech Dumbledore gave every year the feast had begun, everyone digging in and talking loudly with the people around them. Once the boys had finished eating they rushed to their dorm room, already excited to start planning out pranks for their last year. They all fell asleep quicker then they had initially planned on, the adrenalin wearing off as they started to crash out, barely out of their clothes or under their covers. Remus fell asleep sitting at his desk, his head leaning against his sweater he was using as a makeshift pillow. James was sitting upright, leant against the headboard of his bed, Sirius had crashed out at the end of James bed, his legs dangling off the edge of the bed. And Peter had fallen asleep on his own bed, though lying on top of the covers in nothing but sweat pants he had changed into.

They woke up later than usual, all stiff and sore from the uncomfortable positions they slept in, except for Peter, he was just cold. They all got dressed and decided to go down to the courtyard, they had the entire weekend to settle back in before 7th year classes started. Which they were all eternally grateful for. The Marauders made their way outside, laughing and joking around as usual. Finding somewhere nice to sit they picked back up their conversation from last night. "So this year everything needs to be bigger and better boys" James announced, clapping his hands together "I was thinking that prank we did last year on Snivellus, when we turned his uniform bright pink for the whole day, was pretty good but we could definitely top that". As soon as he finished the four boys all had that same classic Marauders look on their faces that screamed they were up to no good and to steer clear. Sirius shot up "how about we make it rainbow and glitter" Peter laughed and added on "yeah we could even add frills this time" that sent the boys into a crazed fit of laughter all except Remus. It wasn't that he was against the idea, it was more that he had something else in mind "or we could turn his uniform into the girl's one" despite his voice not being as loud as the others, their laughter had completely stopped. Wide devious smiles quickly covered the shocked looks they gave him "Merlin Remus you're a bloody genius!" James shouted, as he ruffled his hair up in approval.

They continued talking about how they'd pull it off when James noticed none other than Lily Evans walking through the courtyard "hey Lily!" James shouted out without a second thought. Lily's head shot up and she smiled at the boys walking over with one of her friends she had been talking to. "Hello boys, I hope the break treated you all well" the boys responded with simple answers of head nods and even a thumbs up from Remus. Sirius had finally noticed who Lily just so happened to drag along with her, of course it just had to be her, Y/n. "Mind if we sit with you guys?" Lily asked, her tone as sweet as always. Sirius would have denied her, almost saying how they were planning some 'Marauders' stuff. But of course James beat him to it "of course not, go for it ladies" he smiled at the two girls as they sat down. Sirius was angry at this, not at James for letting her sit with them, but at Y/n for thinking she could just sit near him so casually.

Sirius couldn't help the hateful glare as he watched the girl in front of him, seemingly avoiding conversation with the rest of the Marauders. All he could focus on was the girl he deemed to be the bane of his existence talking away with Lily, the two only met because of Lily's best friend Severus due to the two being in Slytherin. His stormy eyes held a gaze with the glittering gem on her left ring finger, acting as a constant and cruel reminder of his unwanted fate. Remus of course had noticed, he always did when Sirius's mood suddenly changed. The Werewolf leant down to whisper into said boys ear "You know if you keep brooding at her you're going to burn holes into the back of her head" he let out a soft huff of amusement as the boy looked back over at him, an incredulous look on his face "I'm not brooding, I just don't like her" Remus had that look on his face, the kind of look that said yeah that's totally it. The boy shook his head leaving the over dramatic boy to continue his not brooding session.

Y/n knew Sirius was glaring, she could feel his eyes on her as soon as she sat down with Lily. She tried to ignore it, instead choosing to focus on her conversation with said girl about their breaks, the muggle born witch always asked about the balls and events Y/n went to. Neither minded talking about it, Lily got an inside view of what rich and exclusive Pure Blood gatherings were like and Y/n was able to boast about the overly expensive dresses and jewellery she wore to each event and how pretty she felt in them. She was able to ignore the glaring eyes that seemed almost harsh enough to feel in her skull, until Lily had pointed it out "you know Sirius has been staring at you this entire time" the Slytherin didn't spare a glance at the mentioned boy "I'm well aware, he's been doing that a lot lately, I have no idea why" she let out a scoff at the end of her sentence. As much as she liked to talk about every little detail that happened during her break to Lily. The one thing she just so happened to leave out was the meeting between both her family and the Blacks. When Y/n's left hand combed through her hair brushing it back giving Sirius a perfect view of the beautiful ring he had come to hate, and of course he had taken it as a personal insult, as if she was flaunting the expensive jewel on her finger to dig the knife deeper into him. And that kind of insult wasn't something he had taken very lightly as something seemed to snap inside him, the black haired boy stood up abruptly walking over to the two girls "may I have a word with you l/n" his stormy grey eyes filled with hatred and disgust met the dull and harsh eyes of the girl he stared down, awaiting an answer from her. "With all due respect Black I'm currently busy" despite the two seeming to hate each other's guts, they always still acted formal with each other, years of being raised by pure blood families leaving its mark on the two teens."Yes well it's a very urgent matter Y/n" at the use of her first name she sighed and stood from her seat next to Lily, Sirius had only ever seemed to use her first name when he was beyond angry at her "i'll be back soon Lily" the girl just smiled and nodded joining the conversation with the rest of the marauders as Sirius dragged her away. Remus noticed the tight grip his friend had on the girl's wrist, he felt a tinge of worry creeping up on him, though he seemed to be the only one who noticed, not even Lily had noticed how Sirius pulled away the girl she was just talking to a second ago. Remus knew he was overly perceptive sometimes to his own detriment, so he softly interrupted the group's chatter with the excuse of going to the bathroom. Only to follow the two teens who had just left, stopping just before turning the corner peeking over slightly to see the people he was looking for.

Sirius had cornered Y/n against the wall, not wanting to let her leave until he spoke to her "do you seriously have to wear that stupid ring everywhere" he scoffed down at her, disgust clear in his voice. The Slytherin rolled her eyes at the boy "my parents wanted me to, it's not like I could say no to them, you know what will happen if Regulus finds out you're not wearing yours, do you really want your parents to find out" it was now Sirius's turn to roll his eyes "that doesn't mean you have to flaunt it around and keep reminding me of it" the girls face morphed from slightly irritated to furious "Excuse me! You think I'm flaunting it, as if I ever wanted this, as if I like this any more than you do!" Her voice kept rising in octaves as she yelled at the boy in front of her. "All I'm saying is you seem far too comfortable wearing that to be too upset about it" he leaned down into her face, it was clear to Y/n he was trying to intimidate her, there was a pause of silence before a loud slap rang out in the empty corridor they had found themselves in. Sirius's hand shooting up to hold his now reddening and sore face "you prick! Stop speaking to me like that, as if you know anything about me, it's like you think it's my life's dream to be betrothed and bear children to some moronic teenage boy I hate, simply to uphold our stupid pure-blood lineage!" Sirius was too stunned to speak, he didn't know if it was because of the slap, the angry words the usually quiet girl had yelled at him, or the tears that were now violently streaming down her face. Y/n turned away from him, face red and hot from her anger and tears, in doing so she had locked eyes with none other than Remus Lupin who was standing at the end of the corridor in shock only slightly out of view, both their eyes widening as their eyes locked. Y/n letting out a shocked gasp had alerted Sirius, whose head shot over to look at Remus, the tall Werewolf looking between the two, a slight bit of fear etched on his face at being caught. He looked down "sorry, I didn't mean to overhear anything, I was just worried about you" he didn't say who exactly he was talking about, eyes locking onto the floor. Though Remus himself didn't know who he was talking about either, only looking up when he heard the sudden movement of feet, watching as Y/n shoved Sirius away from her. Finally being freed from against the wall, she took off in the other direction, unable to contain her violent sobbing. Remus looked awkwardly at Sirius as he slowly made his way over, the taller boy staying still in his spot "you can't tell the others about this, can you promise me that Moony?" Remus seemed shocked, while he looked at Sirius. He seemed so vulnerable and scared, almost weak even as a few tears leaked down his face "I- I promise… I won't tell anyone anything" he gently put his hand on Sirius's shoulder. Said boy leaned into the touch of his friend, he sniffled slight before speaking "thank you Remus"

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centraliafire · 2 years

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Casual sex is stupid and risky. You don’t need to have sex. You won’t die without it. So stop sharing your most sacred, intimate moments with people you barely know.

#traditional marriage #traditional femininity #radical feminism #Anti sex positivity #Centrist #Libertarian #Mine #poli

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amartianonmars · 4 months

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Description: Four panel comic

First Panel: Julian Bashir and Miles O'Brien kissing in Mile's quarters on a bed, shrouded in darkness. Julian is on top cradling Mile's head while Miles strokes his hands down Julian's back, which show's that his jumpsuit is zipped down

Second Panel: Julian pulls away from the kiss with a sigh and sits up. Mile follows and asks Julian, who has an anxious expression on his face, " Julian? What's wrong? Are you ok?"

Third Panel: Julian has now shifted towards in the end of the bed, where you can now see the rest of the room is accommodated with a small side table, a round lamp sitting on top, and a large chair besides the bedside, all hidden in the dark besides their outlines. Julian is leaning on his hands with his worried face dipped low, Miles behind him sitting up on his knees, a reassuring hand on Julian's shoulder and a mild expression on his face. Julian says " This doesn't seem right, Miles. What about Keiko?"

Fourth Panel: The room is suddenly bathed in yellow light as the lamp is clicked on to reveal Keiko, who has been sitting on the large bedside chair. She tells a screaming and exaggeratedly shocked Julian, "It's alright, Julian". Julian is holding tightly onto Mile's, his legs and arms draped over his body and his mouth thrown open in a scream, his eyes popping out of his skull. Mile's, casually holding Julian's back, says "Hi, Keiko!"

#I've had someone ask for the descriptions to my comics so pls let me know if I'm writing this properly #star trek #my art #martianmarsart #amartianonmars #star trek deep space nine #star trek deep space 9 #star trek ds9 #st ds9 #st: ds9 #miles o'brien #julian bashir #keiko o'brien #i genuinely believe that not only do keiko and o'brien have an open marriage because they canonically get freaky in various ways #keiko seems to always push o'brien into these very attractive people that he connects with #so i also believe that keiko wants to be cucked especially if its a strong beautiful woman or julian bashir and you cant tell me otherwise #i have evidence of this #poly o'brien's > cheating o'brien's

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fuerrziah · 18 days

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Kishiel has peak design yall go read Sherbert above the sea of fog manga plsplspsls

#sherbert above the sea of fog #kishiel #i want her hand in marriage guys #rhhdhdhhdh #art #fanart #my bisexual poly queen

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wardenparker · 1 year

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The Viper's Bride - ch 13

Oberyn Martell x female reader x Ellaria Sand x OC Co-written with @absurdthirst

The second Prince of Dorne has lived under the illusion that he would not be forced to wed for his entire life. He has enough lovers and illegitimate children to make him a legend across Westeros, and the love of his soulmate Ellaria Sand to content him. But a contract between his brother and a lord from the north will catapult him into a match that may prove to be as complicated as it is intriguing. Especially when he learns that you already have a soulmate of your own.

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 12.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: terrible parents, age gap 10+ years, arranged marriage, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, internalized homophobia. Reader is described as having hair long enough to braid. This is a MMFF polycule, folx. Get on board or don't click to keep reading. Pregnancy!* Fluff, support, love, and surprises. Summary: Margaery learns the truth about what Raeden means to you, and it leads to an unexpected conversation. Notes: Listen, I just think Margaery needs a hug and some time to chill, okay?

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12

The days blend into weeks and the trial continues to drag on. Luncheons with Queen Margaery blur together, dinners at your own table in your chamber make way every evening to hours in bed. The idea of being anywhere besides the comfort of your lovers’ arms each night is now impossible, although all four of you do not always sleep in one bed. It is more frequent, though, and always a comfort.

“Are you sure you wish for me to join?” Every day when Margaery extends the invitation to Raeden to join you for the midday meal, he asks you. Not wishing to impose, even though the request is from the queen.

“Of course.” He always asks, and your reply is always the same. Raeden’s company is always wanted for you and Ellaria, but apparently also for the queen.

“I did not know if there were things you wished to discuss privately.” He murmurs softly, feeling proud when you wrap your arm around his.

“Anything I could say privately, can be said with you present,” you remind him gently. Since the revelation of having more than one soulmate, you had promised your lovers that you would never keep a secret from them again. It had made you wholly uncomfortable and upset to do so.

“Just so,” Margaery agrees, motioning to the table that has been laid, indicating the three of you should sit. “We are all friends, are we not?”

“It is an honor to be considered a friend, your highness.” Raeden doesn’t understand why Margaery seems so interested in him eating with her, but he has enjoyed getting to know the younger woman.

“Hopefully it is not a consideration that is one sided.” She sits at the round table in her customary chair and wine is poured immediately.

The young man who serves each luncheon is under the impression you do not much enjoy wine and has begun to serve you sweetened lemon juice with water added, which seems to be more to your taste. In fact, wine was the first thing to start tasting bitter and undesirable since you found yourself with child. Ellaria had laughed and said children were like that – that you lost taste for things and gained taste for others because of them.

“Thank you, as always, for so graciously hosting us.” Raeden tells her with a small smile after taking a sip of his wine. Despite the two enchanting soulmates he possesses, there is something about the widowed queen that is easy to be around.

“It is a comfort to have such steadfast company,” She admits, her smiles having changed over the weeks from painted on, to weak, and soft and true. “I have you both to thank for that.” Ellaria is always a welcome presence as well, but Margaery understands the older woman has no taste for politics and the trial specifically. It is a distaste that she shares, though she cannot afford to express it.

“The company is always marvelous with the Princess.” He acknowledges, sending you a small smile and reaching for a piece of fruit that you have been craving ravenously the past few days.

“I would call you a flatterer except I appreciate the compliment.” Your own smile is relaxed, and you anticipate the fresh-looking apricot with gratitude. “Raeden is never insincere,” you assure the queen. “It is one of his virtues.”

“There is no merit to being insincere.” He defends with a small shrug. “If you cannot trust a man’s word, you cannot trust him.”

"That is not, unfortunately, the type of opinion one normally hears from noblemen." Margaery acknowledges as dishes of meat, vegetables, and fresh rolls are unveiled on the table before them. "What shall we talk about today?"

“I think that the two lovely ladies I have the privilege of dining with should choose.” He decides with a wink. “Anything you would like.”

"I cannot say that I have very much new to speak of," you hum, still playing the news of your pregnancy very close to your vest. No one knows beyond your small family and the maester, who has graciously been admitting you to the Citadel once weekly at Oberyn's request to make sure your health stays at its peak. "Perhaps you will be willing to speak of something older, then?" Margarey sits up in her seat while her plate is filled on her behalf, used to the ceremony although she dislikes being treated like a doll. Not being allowed to do anything for herself is immensely taxing on the mind. "You speak so well of each other, yet I know nothing of your bond beside the fact that Lord Raeden was once your guard, during his time serving your father."

The question is one that was loaded, and Raeden looks towards you to see you if you unwilling to tell the truth. If you were, he would say nothing, but there is a small nod when he catches your eye and he realizes that the fear of what people will think is now a thing of the past. Perhaps your mother’s departure from King’s Landing and your earnest conversations with your father have made it so. However, he thinks it has a lot to do with your marriage to Oberyn and his complete acceptance of the situation. “The strange truth is, your highness, the princess is my soulmate.”

Whatever she might have been expecting, that is certainly not it, and Margaery's glass nearly cracks at how hard she sets it down on the table. "Gods above," she murmurs, looking between you both with wide eyes. "Truly?"

"Truly." When you nod you also reach for Raeden's hand, placing yours on top of his on the table. "We have been fortunate to be able to hold on to each other through despite many challenges."

A million different questions roll through her brain at once as she sees your joined hands. Wondering if she was being tricked as some elaborate plot, but there is obvious affection for each other in your gazes. “I— does the Prince know?” She asks quietly, lowering her voice and leaning in.

"He has known since before we were married." You nod, interested to note that she seemed genuinely concerned. As though the happiness of those involved was a priority, which would be a welcome thing if it turns out to be true.

“That is….” She shakes her head gently. “Wonderful. I have heard that the prince is open in many ways but the fact that he is accepting of your soulmate?” She sighs softly. “You are blessed by the Seven.”

"I cannot deny it." It would be a terrible lie to claim otherwise, and you have no desire to do so. "To love my husband and my soulmate equally is a blessing that I had never looked for but am very glad to have found."

"You love the prince?" She seems shocked by that admission and her eyes dart over to Raeden's to see if there is any jealousy. None are found in his dark orbs and she is equally intrigued by such a thing.

“Very much.” And the freedom to feel that in your bones without hesitation — to accept it as you always accepted your love for Raeden — is something wonderful. “Of course it is not common to love more than one person at once. But it can be done, and it can be gloriously fulfilling.”

"Yes." Margaery would not disagree with such a thing; she knows that the heart and what you are supposed to want are sometimes conflicting things. It was why she had been willing to share her first husband. "And the Prince's lover?" Ellaria has become dear to her, but she does not quite understand the dynamic.

Oberyn and Ellaria are not shy or secretive about their relationship or what they are to each other, so when Raeden sits up in his chair a little straighter he does not feel as if he is betraying anyone’s confidence. “Soulmates as well,” he tells the queen.

“I was lucky to find myself betrothed to a man who also understood not being able to marry the person he loves.” You know this, and yet it is the happiest part of the unfortunate way you came together. “Fortunately for Ellaria, she did not wish to be princess and I was well prepared for the duty.”

"I see." She takes a sip of her wine and mulls over the information that you have just given her. It would be likely that whoever married Lord Raeden in the future, to establish his house, would have to be accepting of sharing her husband. Despite men doing as they wish for centuries, it did not mean that women had accept it quietly.

“This is not what you expected to hear, I think?” Her manner makes that obvious, and you sit up to your plate with interest as well as hunger.

Raeden finishes pealing and slicing the fruit, sliding it onto your plate and smiling when you hum. "It is an odd thing to hear from anyone, my love." He reminds you. "Especially from nobility and even more so from the Princess of Dorne."

“Perhaps.” You can agree to that, and pick up a slice of fruit eagerly. “But friends are honest, are they not?”

Margaery hums in agreement and she nods. "Do you...may I come to your chambers tonight to discuss our honesty?" She asks with a raised brow.

You exchange a small glance with Raeden but you both know the answer. It does not bear discussion, though you will be returning to the trial chambers early to tell Oberyn and sending a message back to Ellaria. “Certainly,” you answer with authority, and admittedly you are intrigued. She has not yet discussed any plans with Oberyn but apparently the time has come. “We would be honored.”

"Thank you." She bows her head towards the both of you with a relieved smile. "I will not come right after the end of the day's trial. I think we all should need a brief rest from the testimony."

“It has been a trying time,” Raeden agrees as you all begin to eat. “Hopefully the end is now in sight and the entire ordeal can be out to rest with justice.”

"Yes, justice." She knows as well as you and Raeden that the Lannisters would never allow anything but the outcome they wanted, even with Oberyn as a judge.

“We can hope.” Raeden says again, knowing that is all it is.

"Have you and the prince decided when you will leave for Dorne?" She asks curiously. "As soon as the trial is over? Or will you stay for the next royal affair?"

“His commitment to the Small Council will be at an end with the trial and he is anxious to be home again.” In fact, you are anxious for it too, but because of your pregnancy. You hate to think what traveling by sea would be like in another few months of time. “And there is the establishment of Lord Raeden’s new House to attend to.” You beam at him, happy to not have to mark your pride in him or joy at his elevation.

“I have a feeling that your house will prosper.” She tells Raeden with a smile. “You are more noble than most men who carry lesser titles.”

“It is a great deal of work to begin a noble house. I admit I had little idea of the details necessary to tend to.” He sips his wine and eats politely, always with one eye on you and the other on the queen. “But I am equal to the task, and your Grace’s kindness is most appreciated.”

“Perhaps my house would be able to aid in some small way.” She offers. “Since you have been so kind to me. My father recently mentioned that he has noticed that I am less mournful, the credit was given to my wonderful companions.”

“Any aid from House Tyrell would lend immense credibility to the future of House Sunstone.” Having mulled it over in his mind, Raeden had eventually decided on the new name Oberyn suggested second. Dragonstone had sounded presumptuous to him the more he thought about it.

“Sunstone?” She blinks and then a true, bright smile blossoms on her face. “I must say that I am envious of such a beautiful name. I own a sunstone ring that is quite precious to me.”

“The good fortune of being able to forge my own path comes with the prince’s grace.” He knows that. He understands the debt and does not mind paying it two hundred times over if it means he can bring honor to his family and to Dorne. “But I am sure your treasured ring is as stunning as its owner.” Paying a compliment to a beautiful woman, especially one who has been good company to both of you and particularly kind to him, is an easy task for Raeden. Very easy indeed.

Margaery pauses for a moment, surprised that there isn’t even the tiniest hint of jealousy that crosses your face and she bestows a pleased smile on both of you. Picking up her cup and lifting it. “To House Sunstone, May it prosper under the Dornish sun.”

“I will drink to that every time,” you agree, raising your own glass in proud salute.

Raeden’s eyes flash and glitter, both deeply proud and deeply pleased, when he raises his glass to you and the queen in return. His blessings have been innumerable and she could not be more grateful. “My thanks to you both,” he acknowledges, his smile genuine. “With such support as this, I cannot see a future for House Sunstone that is not as bright as its namesake.”

******

For some reason, Raeden is nervous as he escorts you back to the rooms. There’s an idea that has been running through his mind since that luncheon and he doesn’t know what you or Ellaria would think about it. Even though he had spoken to Oberyn about it vaguely, it would affect you two most of all.

“You seem distracted, my love.” As he pushes open the door to your chambers, you frown slightly. Oberyn should be a few minutes behind you and Ellaria will be waiting inside, so this moment is only for you and Raeden. “Is the trial weighing on you?”

“No.” He knows that he needs to talk to you. The honesty that has been promised demands it. “I have been thinking about the future of my house.”

“A matter far dearer to our hearts.” You offer him a reassuring smile. “What can I do to help you?”

“To remember that I love you, regardless of who I marry.” He murmurs softly.

"I have no doubt of that." Stopping in the doorway, you turn and take both of his hands, squeezing them as you look up at him. "She will have to be a strong and clever woman, and especially kind-hearted in order to deserve you, but I know you will choose well. Whoever she is, she will be very lucky." The hurt you once harbored over knowing that your marriages could never be to each other has healed. If your betrothal had turned out so wonderfully, did it not also follow that Raeden might also choose a woman who turned out to be just as joyful a choice?

“I hope you continue to think so.” He murmurs softly as Ellaria comes out of the bedroom to greet you both.

"Good evening, my loves." She moves to both of you together, putting out her arms in welcome. "How did the trial fair today?"

“It was interesting.” Raeden snorts. “The evidence against Lord Tyrion is flimsy at best.”

“Unfortunately, that does not seem to matter to Lord Tywin,” you tut sympathetically and accept the embrace happily. “What have you done with your day today, love?”

“Leyth went with me to the marketplace.” Ellaria bestows kisses on both of you and brings you inside to settle in front of the fire. “We obtained our dinner from the Dornish vendor that Oberyn loves so much, after wandering around and amusing ourselves with trinkets for a while.”

“Then Queen Margarey will be in for a treat at dinner tonight.” Raeden lifts your hand to kiss the back of it before reaching for Ellaria’s. The offer to dine with you had come naturally when she had asked to come speak with you tonight. Returning the hospitality of someone who has been so kind would not cause tongues to wag, although they still talk just because of the proximity to Oberyn.

“Yes, I think so.” Ellaria had perhaps gone slightly overboard in her ordering with the combination of impressing the queen and feeding your increased appetite on her mind, but that does not matter. “Is Oberyn still in meetings? They seem to want him for everything the longer this business goes on.”

“He is only about ten minutes behind us.” Raeden assures her. He had wished to stay back to learn some information from Lord Varys and his little birdies.

“Then come and have a drink and sit with me while we wait.” There is always wine, of course, and also teas and tisanes for you to enjoy now that your tastes are changing.

He looks to you, knowing you might prefer to lay down for a few moments. “My love.”

"Enjoy yourselves, loves." You nudge them together and stretch, offering them a soft smile. "I will lay down for a few minutes with my eyes closed, enjoying the sound of absolutely no one arguing nearby."

“Rest, my love.” He murmurs, watching as you stand and walk towards the bedroom that Ellaria had just exited.

"How was your luncheon?" Ellaria pours wine for both of them and brings Raeden to sit down in front of the fire.

“It was very enlightening.” He admits, accepting the cup and when he sits down, he pulls her into his lap.

"How so?" There is not any need to coax her into further action, and Ellaria readily trails kisses along his neck and jaw.

“She is very eager to be rid of this keep, King’s Landing, all of it.” He tells her, tilting his head back and sighing softly.

"Who could ever want to stay in this place?" It is distasteful, cold, and unfriendly, and Ellaria will be glad to leave it behind as well. The only thing worth staying for is her lovers.

“I do not know why anyone would.” He chuckles and tilts forward so he can look at his second soulmate and lover. “I wish to ask you a question.”

She pauses, drawing away from him and looking into his eyes to find determination in his dark orbs. “Anything, my love.”

“What do you think about a marriage offer to Margarey?” He asks her softly. “I know you have no desire to marry, you have made that clear, and I need a wife to give me sons and daughters.” He knows she would give him a child if she is able, but he doesn’t want to risk her health if it is too taxing on her body.

“How long have you been thinking about this?” Her head tilts in curiosity and she runs her nails soothingly over his scalp. He would not all such a question flippantly, and surely he would have weighed the pros and cons heavily before even bringing it up to anyone in their complex relationship.

“Since the luncheon with the queen today.” He confesses quietly. “It just seems as if there was a moment where I knew she would accept my relationships with you and her.” He nods towards the doorway. “She knows that she is my soulmate and is fascinated by the acceptance.”

“There is always danger in accepting new faces into a situation like ours,” Ellaria admits with a sadness that says she knows this firsthand.

“I can imagine.” He nods seriously and sighs. “I can only ask that she accept and if she cannot, then she would not be the wife for me.”

“Do not be discouraged if your first choice is not realized.” She murmurs, not wanting him to find himself upset if Margaery will be unable to keep jealousy at bay.

“I want you and our love to be involved in the decision.” He insists. “She will be in both your lives.”

"And Oberyn's." She reminds him, but she nods. "I do not envy the life Margaery Tyrell has had to live, but I certainly find her to be clever and beautiful." Leaning down, Ellaria presses a kiss to Raeden's lips as the door to their chambers creaks open. "I would not be upset to see more of her if she was your choice."

“Gods curse this trial.” Oberyn groans as he comes through the door and immediately starts to shuck his broadcoat as he walks over to the couple in the front of the fire to kiss his soulmate.

"Does it vex you so terribly, lover?" Ellaria asks before sinking in his kiss without moving an inch from Raeden's lap.

Oberyn has no issue with the other man being a part of the kiss and his tongue slides against his lips in their journey into Ellaria’s mouth. Kissing her thoroughly before he turns and brushes his nose against the other man’s.

His lack of answer and determined kiss say that yes, it does vex him, and the three of them tangle in each other to let the kiss linger until Oberyn is ready to pull away himself.

“Now I am feeling more relaxed.” He huffs, his fingers reaching out and stroking Raeden’s jaw and then Ellaria’s. “You always relax me.”

"We love you, too," Ellaria hums, her own fingers running down the prince's broad chest. "Leyth and I ordered our dinner to be delivered from the vendor you discovered in the marketplace and the princess is resting," she reports after another soft kiss. "I think they told you already that we are having a guest tonight?"

“Yes.” Oberyn’s eyes slide back to Raeden’s. “Have you broached the subject?”

"Just now." The younger man nods slightly. "With Ellaria first."

His brow ticks up curiously and he sits down next to Raeden and strokes his lover’s thigh as she sits on his lap. “And what do you think of the idea, my sun?”

"It is intriguing," she admits, holding Raeden's hand in hers as she lays back against Oberyn's chest. "Her political navigation cannot be matched, and that will be most valuable."

“That was my thinking as well. The alliance with Highgarden and the Tyrells would serve Raeden well, as well as legitimize his offspring beyond all protests.”

"And she finds our valiant knight very handsome." Ellaria acknowledges, her fingers tangled in his and holding his hand tenderly. "Of course she does. She has eyes."

“What do you think?” He asks softly. “I cannot imagine you kicking her out of bed if she decided to join us.”

"No." Shaking her head, she makes an animated frown and waves one hand freely. "I would certainly not. Young, beautiful, and curious? She will be a quick learner."

Oberyn grins and leans in to bite his lover’s chin. “I knew she would interest you.” His eyes sparkle towards Raeden. “Or would you want to keep your lady wife to yourself, Lord Sunstone?” He teases playfully.

"That is her decision," Raeden acknowledges with a huffed half-laugh. He knows the prince is teasing him, but his answer is honest. "But there is one more person to consult before the discuss is had." He nods his head toward the closed door that has so far kept you ignorant of the topic. "I do not know if it helps or hurts that they have become true friends."

“I think that it would help.” Oberyn offers, having learned the way your mind works very well over the past weeks. “Go and talk to her, make sure she knows you would not proceed without her blessing.”

"I would never." Moving Ellaria over to Oberyn's lap fully, Raeden gives each of them a kiss before pushing himself up to standing. "For the sake of transparency..." he looks down at the pair. "I have both of your blessings for this idea, if I decide to move forward with it?"

Oberyn nods. “Of course you have my blessing, it is a smart move.” He tells the younger man before he leans in to kiss Ellaria’s jaw. “Lover? What is your answer?” He doesn’t speak for her, knowing that the marks on her skin bind her to Raeden in a way that he does not have.

"It is a clever choice," she agrees, nodding her approval. "I will be proud for you if it works out, lover. If it does not, then she was not the right choice after all."

“Thank you.” He smiles at both of them, bolstered by their approval. “Now I should ask my other soulmate.” He hums, removing his boots before he moves silently towards the door.

The sun has gone down since you laid your head on the pillow of the bed you usually sleep in – though who you share it with now changes regularly. When the door opens it brings you out of the depths of your mind and you turn your head to see who has come in. "Raeden," you hum his name happily. "Are you come to beckon me into dinner, or to cuddle for a while?"

“Cuddle.” His jacket is in his hands and he drapes it over a chair before he climbs into the bed with you. “And talk, if you are agreeable to it.”

"Always, my love." As soon as he is on the bed you turn to face him and burrow into his side with a happy purr. "What is it you have a mind to talk about?"

Raeden wraps his arms around you with a happy groan, aware that he is very fortunate to be able to hold you like this at all. Perhaps he is being selfish, wanting to establish his house. “My house. My future wife.”

"Oh?" That has your ears perking and your eyes widening. The feeling of your heart in your throat is surprisingly less violent than you would have expected from this topic but it is more tinged with worry. Worry that he might have trouble finding a suitable choice who would not also endeavor to take him away from you. "Have you...made a decision?"

“I have not spoken to her about it, because you, Oberyn and Ellaria are my priority.” He assures you, squeezing you slightly and then rubbing his hand up and down your back. “If you do not approve, I will say nothing at all.”

"But you have found someone worthy of asking." It is not entirely surprising, considering you are all living at the very center of Westeros society, but still you bite your lip. It is not necessarily surprising, but it is still an enormous step forward for him.

“I have an idea.” He stresses. “One that has me reaching well above my station even as a Lord.”

It takes only a moment for your mind to race through the options with that clue in mind, and you end up with even wider eyes than before as you lean up on your elbow in his arms. "Margaery..." you breathe, looking at him in surprise. "Truly?"

It is marvelous how your mind is quick, piecing everything together. “You think that it would be a grave mistake?”

Sitting up a little straighter, you shake your head and lay your hand on his cheek. "On the contrary, my love. I think it is impossibly clever of you. She is acquainted with our situation, has a keen mind for politics, and is looking for a solution to her own situation."

“That is analytical and practical.” He leans into your touch, his warm brown eyes begging you for your opinion. “How would you feel about it personally. Spending time with Margaery and knowing that she would also carry my children, help me establish my house?”

For weeks now you had been trying to detach yourself from the idea. To think of it as something for the distant future. But that is simply not true. Raeden's House is here, and it is now, and he will need a wife to help it grow and to keep him steady. He will need someone who understands how to play the game of nobles and will be able to bear him many children. "I think she is my friend, as surprising as that is to say." Especially since the very first day that you had met her, you thought that her presence in your life would be nothing more than a passing curiosity. It has been nearly two months now and you have come to dearly enjoy the time that you spend walking, reading, or talking with the young widow. "But I know that she does not think she has much future as a bride, despite how dearly she wishes to be a mother. So I advise you that the conversation may not go the way that you think at first."

“I know that she is a higher station, that her prospects should be better than a new lord, but it would also be easier on her reputation than being found in bed with your husband.” He offers.

“She wants to be a wife,” you promise him, not realizing that your voice has gone soft with understanding. The walks that you have taken with Margaery Baratheon — who still considers herself Margaery Tyrell in her heart — have been much more revealing than you could ever have anticipated. “She wants to be a mother. And I know that she would relish the chance to make a decision about her life on her own for once. Not what her father would do, or what her grandmother orchestrates, but simply what Margaery herself desires.”

“I understand.” Raeden nods solemnly. “I will not speak a word of this to her if you wish it.” He promises. “You and Ellaria and Oberyn are my first concerns, your feelings are of high importance in this matter.” He chuckles quietly. “You will choose my wife, approve her, or I will not take one.”

“A vastly different arrangement than we had when I was married,” you chuckle softly. “I approve of the choice, my love, as long as you like her and it is not simply a political decision.”

“It is not. I think she would accept your place in my life, and Ellaria and Oberyn’s.” He confesses.

"I think she would, too." Your hand strays from his jaw, moving to his shoulder to pull him close to you. "I think it would bring more happiness than we suspect, and perhaps even sooner than we might expect." You have always known that it could not be you – for too many reasons at different times in your life you have known it. But this? If it cannot be you, and it will not be Ellaria, let it be someone you all can trust.

“I love you.” He promises you softly. “That will never change. Until my dying breath my soul is a part of yours, my body as well. My heart has been yours since we met.”

"And I love you in precisely the same way." It is not just a promise, but a statement of truth. Something that is an immovable part of your very existence in this world. "You are as much myself as I am, and I am a part of you."

“I do not want to take this step without your approval.” He admits. “I care more about your happiness than anything else.”

“I will be beside you at every turn.” Nuzzled into his side, you breathe in his reassuring presence and feel the warmth of him fill you from the tips of your toes to the top of your head.

“Of that I have no doubt.” He murmurs softly, continuing to stroke your back. “If no one will accept our situation, I will remain unwed.”

“You cannot,” you remind him quietly, though it pains you to your core to admit it. “Or your house will die before it can begin.”

He sighs softly, wanting to remind you that his house was never supposed to be before your husband. He doesn’t though, he knows you are right, he must marry. “Then we will make sure that my wife is the right one for our group.”

“I think Margaery is a wise choice,” you admit, knowing what self-doubt his sighs betray. It had taken him a long time to show you that side of himself but since he has you have done everything to build him back up in return for his shows of vulnerability. “Will you speak to her tonight?”

“I was thinking about it.” He admits. “As long as you approve. See if she would rather elope with me rather than completely ruin her reputation.”

Taking the sharp line of his jaw in your hands again, you smile and hold his eyes. This is not an easy conversation for either of you to have — considering you had dreamed in your hearts of being able to find a way to be together — but it is by far the best outcome in many ways. “I approve,” you tell him unequivocally. “Margaery has been my unexpected friend in all of this. I would be glad if she could be given a choice in her own life, and if you could have all the advantages possible for your house and your happiness for the years to come.”

“I love you.” He promises you, smiling in relief. “I love you down to your very soul and I am so grateful that you are my soulmate.”

“As I love you.” There is not anyone else in all the world you would rather be tied to by fate or love or any other matter, and the fact that you have both Raeden and Oberyn to share an equal kind of love from your own heart remains extraordinary. “We should join the others, my love. Margaery will be here soon and it promises to be a most interesting meal.”

“We should not lay here too long.” He agrees, although he leans in to kiss you softly. “We will find out if she would like to be a part of our lives.”

“You say the words but make no move to go.” Of course, you do not either. You would much rather lay here and kiss him, if you are honest.

“If I am truthful, I would rather spend the night in bed with my beautiful soulmate.” He confesses.

“After,” you promise him, sighing when he kisses along your neck. “First we must determine if you are to be a groom soon.”

“I wish it was you.” He whispers softly. “Or Ellaria.”

“Do you not like Margaery?” The idea that he might marry purely for politics bothers you immensely and you pull back from him with a frown. “If you cannot find affection for her, my love, then you should not even entertain the idea.”

“I like her.” He tells you. “She is beautiful and witty, kind and smart.” He sighs, stroking your cheek gently. “I just imagined marrying my soulmate. It is hard to swallow that I now have two and cannot marry either one.”

“You could marry Ellaria.” Although your voice is gentle there is sadness to it, and you swallow another sigh. “But she would not be happy as a lady, and I think you would not be happy to let go of the chance to do good as a lord.”

“She does not want it.” He reveals. “She and I spoke of it after the second set of marks appeared.” He chuckles. “She told me she did not marry a prince, and she would not marry me.”

“If the law allowed, I would marry you both,” you promise him, kissing his shirt over his heart.

“Still my favorite woman.” He teases, ducking his head down and pressing his lips to yours. “How are you feeling, love?”

“My head ached this afternoon, but that could have been the trial.” The attempt at a joke is half-hearted, but you both smile a little wider. “And I have been ravenous for days. I cannot think how fast a child grows in its mother’s womb, but it seems to require far more food than I ever thought a little baby could.”

“A little princess.” The idea that it will be another girl has taken root with all of them, and he also knows that you wish for one. His hand slides down and cups your stomach protectively. “If you are hungry, then our meal will not come soon enough.”

“Come, my love.” With another kiss, you are shifting on the mattress. “This is to be a very important meal.”

“Yes it will.” He huffs, following after you with the same slight grumble he has when he has to leave your embrace.

Through the doors into the main chamber, Oberyn and Ellaria are sitting in front of a window with their arms around each other when you and Raeden come in from the other room. Their expectant look makes you shoot a sly smile in Raeden's direction. "I take it I was the last to hear of your plan?"

“You were tired.” He pouts slightly, sending you a beseeching look.

"Apparently growing a baby is hard work." You wink and make your way over to the tray where Leyth has left a pot of the tea you have been favoring the week.

“I found myself equally exhausted when I was carrying my first and third.” Ellaria nods and smiles indulgently at you. “Oberyn would find me sleeping at the dinner table sometimes.”

“I will not be surprised if I follow that example.” The endearing image earns Ellaria a kiss, however, and you temporarily abandon your teapot to bestow it upon her.

She chuckles and nods. “Why do you think Oberyn has ordered pillows to be set at the tables while we eat?” She teases.

It takes you a moment, but when you examine the dining table that has been laid out for all of you with every possible accoutrement besides food — there are numerous pillows laid nearby that you simply had not noticed before. “It is a most thoughtful gesture, husband. You have been looking out for me in ways I have not even been aware of.”

“Star, that is my job.” He purrs, smirking at you and winking. Since the announcement of your pregnancy, he has been doting and he knows it will only get worse as your time gets closer and you are visibly pregnant.

“You have many jobs, I think, your Grace.” The widowed queen stands in the doorway of your chambers with a smile on her face. “Forgive me for being a few minutes early. I was eager for good company.”

Looking over at the queen, his hand is still on his lover’s thigh and he grins. “Lady Baratheon, or queen?” He shrugs slightly. “Whatever your title, we always welcome beautiful guests, come. Would you like some tea? Wine?”

“Amongst friends, might I ask to be just Margaery?” She nods in thanks to the offer of wine, knowing that she has come here tonight to rather insert herself into the situation of all of the people here. Informality seems best, especially since what she has asked Prince Oberyn to do for her – to her, with her – will snatch her from a place of royalty forever.

“Margaery.” The name drips from Ellaria’s tongue like honeyed wine as she turns to kiss her lover and stands, slowly meandering over to the wine to fill a cup for the queen. She winks at you playfully and nudges your shoulder. “Pour your tea, Princess.”

“You all seem to be in high spirits tonight.” And Margaery desperately hopes that that is genuine and not out of delight at her predicament. While she might feel her friendship with you is genuine, she still finds Prince Oberyn to be an unknown entity, while Lord Raeden and Ellaria seem sometimes inscrutable.

“Of course it is.” Oberyn slouches down into his chair a bit more and lifts his cup to his lips. “We are celebrating. What we are celebrating remains to the seen.”

“Sit, Margaery, please.” You offer her the seat beside where you usually set yourself and tut in your husband’s direction. “I will go and tell Leyth we are ready for our meal.”

Your husband chuckles and watches the queen as she sits down and sips her wine. Discreetly looking around the common area of the chambers. “Dornish.” He tells her, lifting the cup to indicate he means the wine. “Superior to the swill that Cersei gulps down.”

“Dornish wine is very fine.” Renly had preferred it, so Margaery knows the taste well enough. It’s actually a bit comforting in an odd way. Something familiar. “Thank you for allowing me to press in on you like this. I know I am not everyone’s favourite dinner guest at present.”

“No thanks needed.” Raeden interjects, sending you a smile as he sits down beside you. “You will find that the prince is very accommodating when his interest is captured.”

“Is that so?” She looks to the faces around the room with curiosity, only to be met mostly with more curiosity in return. “Then for once I count myself lucky to be considered a curiosity.”

“Tell me.” Oberyn starts. “Would you leave the North behind if you could?”

“That is not altogether an easy question,” Margaery admits. The table fills one by one as Oberyn and Ellaria join and Leyth appears with platters of food delivered by the Dornish stall in the marketplace. “I suppose if I had a very good reason to, then yes.”

“Very good.” He will accept that answer at its face value. “And what of sex? Are you prudish? I do not think so, but I must ask.”

“I—” She glances at Leyth to take stock of the girl but your maid pays the conversation no mind whatsoever – just finishes setting out trays and exits the room after checking that everything is as it should be. “I do not think so,” she admits, sounding more uncertain than she would like. “But I admit I have only a small frame of reference.”

“Not pure, good.” He chuckles at her bewildered expression. This was not the conversation she was expecting but it was raw, honest. What Oberyn was hoping for. “And your soulmate? Have you found them?”

“They died.” She fidgets in her seat, looking much younger than she normally holds herself. She looks – self-conscious and bewildered – her own age. A young woman on the edge of uncertainty. “When I was a girl. I had a mark on my belly for years and then one day it was gone.”

“You poor dear.” Ellaria tuts and reaches out to touch the Queen’s knee as she sits back down with Oberyn. “I am very sorry.”

“It could have been worse,” Margaery acknowledges. “I could have known them.” An old thought creeps through her mind that she banishes with a small shake of her head and a painted-on smile. “It is not all so terrible. Or so difficult.”

“Perhaps you will be gifted with another soulmate.” Ellaria offers kindly, knowing that most nobility never get to be with their soulmate, but she couldn’t see Raeden denying her the connection given his own circumstances.

“That would be a rare gift.” One that Margaery tended not to let herself dream about, if she could help it. There is no benefit to letting her imagination run away with her. So instead she smiles as plates begin to fill and finds herself relieved and relaxed at the idea that she will get to choose her own delicacies tonight. She did not bring her maid deliberately, so there was no one to fix her plate on her behalf.

“Would you like me to serve you, Margaery?” Raeden turns towards the younger woman with a smile. “You can direct what you wish to eat?”

“Believe it or not, I am delighted to see to myself for once.” It almost makes her blush, though, for the situation being unusual and the offer being reasonable and kind. The food on the table looks and smells Dornish which means it is new to her, but that is somehow also an unlooked for delight rather than anything else. “As I am sure the princess understands, it is a rare chance that ladies of our situation are able to choose anything for ourselves. Food included.”

“Indulge, then,” you encourage, offering your friend a smile. “Choose only what you like and give yourself a taste for Dornish spices. I promise you will not be disappointed.”

“If there is something that does not agree with you, simply choose something else.” Oberyn instructs her. “You will not offend anyone here.”

“Growing up, the food at Highgarden always had herbs and roots for flavoring, but this smells so very different. I am intrigued,” she admits with a small laugh, then changes the subject as everyone begins to fill their plates in earnest. “I trust, now that the day is at an end, everyone is in higher spirits?”

“We are normally in high spirits when we can spend the evening together, it is very pleasurable.” Raeden doesn’t mention that it is spent having pleasure, but his eyes slide over to you and Ellaria with a fair amount of heat.

“Yes.” You clear your throat in the most ladylike way possible and Ellaria grins broadly. “To be in the company of those we hold dear is very pleasurable indeed.”

Margaery feels like there is an undercurrent to the comment but she doesn’t question it. “So,” she murmurs once the plates are full and Leyth slides discreetly out of the room to wait until she is called. “Your servants, they can be trusted with this?”

“Entirely,” you promise her, knowing that the matter she came to discuss and what will be presented to her are two separate things. “Their discretion and their loyalty is complete.” Something that would be obvious if news of what had happened with your mother had ever gotten out — but because of Leyth and Cal’s impregnable loyalty, not a word had been uttered to anyone.

“It is rare that such loyalty is inspired, and it is a credit to your character.” She praises. It is rare the noble that garners much respect and loyalty from their servants, having seen the worst of them.

“It is a credit to Oberyn, and to choice,” you offer, not wanting to downplay your husband’s kindness to those he employees but also knowing that freedom of choice – to select one’s path in any way at all – was taken from Leyth and Cal in a way that was far too cruel.

“Whoever is responsible, it is a blessing to be surrounded by that kind of integrity.” She smiles as she scoops up the first bite of her food to try.

Margaery hums in delight, blissfully unaware of the four sets of eyes currently trained on her as she takes her first bites of Dornish delicacies. The roasted meats, stewed vegetables, creamy dips, and highly spiced sauces are all delicious and an indulgence they partake of often. The Red Keep’s kitchens are not equipped to create the masterpieces that Oberyn prefers so he – or one of you – will routinely order from the gentleman at the marketplace that you discovered on your walk with Oberyn.

“Delicious, is it not?” You ask, when she closes her eyes in a dreamy expression.

“It is divine.” She moans, aware that it is not ladylike but sure that no one at the table would mind. “The flavors are so…robust. I could eat this every day.”

The small smirk on your lips is pure amusement as you glance up at your husband. Ellaria’s eyes flash as well and there is a silent laugh shared between the three of you at the table. “Would that please you?” You ask conversationally. “This food came from a very talented man in the marketplace, and it is just a sampling of what Dornish delicacies can be tasted.”

“It is better than any feast displayed in the Red Keep’s dining hall.” She tells you honestly, “You must show me this vendor before you leave.”

“I will,” you promise her, managing not to give anything away by not glancing at Raeden. “Do you expect to stay in the keep long after your…plan goes into action?”

“If Cersei does not have me killed, I expect to be thrown out like the morning’s chamber pot.” Margaery jokes weakly.

“I wonder—” Raeden sits up a little taller at the table, feeling this to be his cue. “If you have considered every avenue available to solve your problem.”

“Sort of throwing myself from the tower, I believe so.” She frowns, turning towards Raeden. “Have you some idea? You are a clever man; you have taught me that during our luncheons.”

“I will take that as the highest compliment.” And an encouragement, that she thinks well of him and is not just abusing herself with his presence or inviting him out of pity. “There are other people a beautiful young noblewoman could marry, if she chose. Surely a different husband is preferable to death?”

She sighs softly, setting her fork down. “All the men who would wish to marry me are not very noble men.” She confesses. “Someone like Petyr Baelish would be the type to offer for me with the scandal an elopement would cause, for I would have to marry and bed hastily.” She smiles and reaches out to squeeze his hand. “Do you know of someone?”

Her hand is delicate. Small on his and warm, and perhaps a little uncertain though it does not tremble. “Perhaps,” Raeden nods and sets down his wine glass in turn. “What would you say if I offered myself?”

Her eyes widen and she snatches her hand back as her head swings towards you. She is not disgusted, her heart jumps in fact, but she respects you. “I— you have a soulmate here.” She gasps. “You—” she finds that you are not upset, in fact, you are obviously anticipating an answer. “You don’t mind?”

“What right do I have to dictate Raeden’s life when I have a husband and a growing family of my own?” You ask her seriously, knowing that news of your pregnancy has also not made it beyond your immediate household. On Oberyn’s advice, you had not made an announcement at court yet. That would wait until you were starting to show. “I do not wish to see you hurt, Margaery. You have been a wonderful and unexpected friend to me and to see you so desperate wounds me in ways I cannot express. If you can acceptance our situation, and the love we all have for each other, and think that you could be happy with a good, clever man just beginning his own House — then I do not mind at all. In fact, I urge you to accept.”

“You—” she’s speechless and for a moment tears swarm her vision at the prospect of freedom from this red tomb and life beyond the reach of the Lannisters. “So please tell me what I need to accept so I can decide.” She begs, wishing she could hug you.

“Firstly, that I will not give up my soulmates.” Raeden puts both of his hands on the table, offering her comfort but leaving it up to her if she chooses to accept it. “Each of us here has two soulmates, as rare as that is. I am blessed to be attached to both of these women and I will not turn away for them from any reason.”

“T-Two soulmates?” She had been reaching for her cup and nearly knocks it over in surprise as her head snaps up. Barely sloshing a large drop of the Dornish red onto her hand, she doesn’t notice as she stares at the four of you, mouth gaped open.

“It is rare, but it is true.” You confirm with a nod, understanding her shock completely. “I bare Raeden’s marks as well as Oberyn’s.”

“And Ellaria?” She looks at the other woman. “You wear Oberyn’s and Raeden’s marks?” She asks, wanting to confirm.

"I do," she nods and laces her fingers through Oberyn's. "And though I do not share marks with the princess, we do share a bed more than occasionally."

“Do you and the prince share a bed?” Margaery asks Raeden, wondering how the dynamic works. Does everyone share?

"We have not yet." He adds yet carefully, knowing that he fully intends to, and likely soon. "Would it bother you if we did?"

“No— um...” she chews her lip. “Renly was eager to bed both me and my brother, so I understand.” She explains, toying with her wine cup. “I do not have any bother with that. But you will bed me?”

It is a fair question, even if Raeden feels temporarily wounded at the idea that he would offer marriage to a woman and then not treat her as his wife. "In order to grow House Sunstone, I will need legitimate heirs," he reminds her gently. There is nothing patronizing in his tone, it is only facts and kindness. "So yes, I would intend to bed you."

“Would I have other lovers?” She asks, looking around the room, “All of you?”

That makes Raeden smile, and he glances around the table before looking back at her. "If you wish it. No one here would turn you away."

“Truly?” She’s shocked by that. While many people boast of wanting lovers, very few actually take them. At least the women she knows.

"We would not expect it of you," you clarify quickly. "But if you wished to take other lovers, it would be entirely unjust of Raeden to forbid it while having three other lovers himself."

“You enjoy it?” She asks curiously. “Being with a woman? I have never had a chance to experience it.”

"My first lover was a woman." Confident and comfortable with the memory of Brynna's place in your life, you can assure Margaery in this completely. "It can be a wonderful and extremely pleasurable experience."

“And you wish me to join your little group?” She asks seriously. “As a lady wife to Lord Sunstone and potential lover to all of you? A preverbal fifth wheel?”

"We have all discussed it." Raeden artfully leaves out the fact that – in one case – the discussion only happened just before she arrived. Instead he focuses on the positive. And on the offer he is making. "If you would like to be a part of this group...this odd little family that we have...we are offering you the chance to be a part of it. If you desired nothing beyond my own bed and never shared pleasure with your dear friend, with Oberyn, or with Ellaria, that would be entirely up to you." He turns now, offering his hands to Margaery again and looking into her eyes. They really are stunning now that he has a chance to look deeper. "Rather than shatter your reputation and put your life on the line, would you consider an elopement? It will eliminate the problem of your father's arrangement with the Lannisters and take you far away from King's Landing." He smirks slightly, looking over at the food on the table before his smirk blooms into a full smile. "And you will have all the Dornish delicacies you like in Sunspear."

Her fingers slide against his palm as her laughter blooms. Joyous and relieved. “I accept.” She decides instantly. “If nothing more than a lifetime of food such as this.” She jokes before she squeezes his fingers. “If we elope and my marriage is actually consummated, the dowry the Lannisters are planning to line their coffers with is yours, Lord Sunstone.”

"And as Dornish subjects, you answer to the princes and princesses of that realm, rather than to Cersei Lannister." It is a deeply added benefit, and now will be the second time you have exploited that loophole to help get people you care about away from imminent harm. Looking to Oberyn, Raeden holds tight to Margaery's hands. "Do you think Maester Rhodestone would mind a late night visit?"

“If you wish to do this tonight, we will finish our dinner and make for the Citadel.” He tells Margaery. “The same maester who married myself and the princess would oversee your vows and make sure they are registered.”

Though her hand is in Raeden's, you place one of your own gently on her shoulder and squeeze. "The speed is out of concern for your safety, my dear. It is the same reason that Oberyn and I wed so quickly. Because Raeden was my sworn guard and his life was in danger."

“What happened?” She asks, tilting her head curiously and wanting to know what could possibly threaten this kind and handsome man.

"My mother threatened to spread a vicious lie that would most likely have ended in his execution." You shake your head sadly. "I did what I had to do to keep my soulmate safe. And found myself the luckiest woman in the world when I began to know more of the husband I had made vows to. I think – I hope – you will consider yourself equally as lucky as you get to know Raeden."

“I hope that this does not affect our relationship.” She murmurs quietly. “I have come to view you as one of my dearest friends. A true friend. That is so hard to come by.”

"A true friend can be more valuable than gold." You readily agree. "The only thing that would change would be if we decided to share a bed. And that would be a way to bring us closer."

She has been curious about that. Biting her lip and nodding. “It would be an experience.” She admits. “I am not pure and I would like to live my life to the fullest.”

You can feel a bloom of warmth in your cheeks and do not even turn your head to Ellaria, knowing what she will say. Her stunning smirk surely says I knew it like only she can. “I can assure you that no one here is pure in the sense that you mean.”

“I understand if you wish to wait until I bleed, but I can swear to the Gods I have not been with anyone since before I married Joffrey.” Margaery promises.

“Well, when was the last time you bled?” Ellaria pauses with a bite of roast meat and bread halfway to her mouth and quirks an eyebrow. She knows the answer - the maids know everything and Leyth has good ears – but she wants to see how genuine Margaery is being tonight.

“I bled the week after Joffrey’s funeral.” She admits, squirming slightly since she is unused to speaking of such things in front of men. It’s not that she is embarrassed, just unaccustomed to men around talks of women’s things.

“Then there seems little need to wait.” Raeden nods when Ellaria seems to accept the answer and resume her dinner casually, but he looks back to Margaery with concern. “Unless you want more time to think over the offer?”

“There is not much time to wait.” She answers honestly. “I had come to beg that the prince be discovered in my bed by morning,” she confesses. “They wish to announce my marriage to Tommen after Lord Tyrion has been executed.”

“Then the longest we will wait is after our supper.” Knowing that Rhodestone is now fond enough of your group to receive the lot of you even at an odd time, Raeden is certain they will be allowed into the Citadel no matter what time they arrive. Perhaps it will all one day make a charming or romantic story. Instead of being a true matter of life and death twice over.

Oberyn scoffs slightly, aware that the trial has been a farce, but it is made even more obvious by her comment. “You will be wedded and bedded before the sun rises.” He promises. “Our maid will discover your blood on Lord Sunstone’s sheets.” Even if he must provide his own blood, he will make sure proof is undeniable.

“We will stand beside you tomorrow, and every day afterward,” you promise her, knowing that your roles are about to reverse. With you the princess and her the lady, nothing would change, though. As Margaery pointed out herself, true friendships are difficult to come by.

It is rare, she knows this. Her own family crawled back to the Lannisters after Renly died, her body as a pawn. Now, Mace would be unable to use her to better himself again, and she believes her grandmother would approve. “So this is now our wedding feast.” She says, lifting her cup. “To House Sunstone, May it grow strong and prosperous in Dorne.”

“Here here.” You approve of that most heartily and raise your cup to salute her and Raeden with one hand. The sadness – the melancholy – the bracing discomfort you expected to feel when Raeden finally married is nowhere in sight. His future is secure in the hands of a woman that you not only know well but enjoy, and his legacy will grow from the vines of the House that they sew together. The injustice of being denied each other’s love does not exist. Margaery accepts it just as the rest of you all have. She will be safe and they will persevere together. In time, there will be so many less important things to fret over. And you will all have the luxury of fretting, because you have survived.

Dinner ends up being a lighthearted, jovial affair. Turning into more of a celebration than anything else and by the time that the food has been eaten, Margaery is almost eager to make Raeden her Lord husband. He is a good man, she can see that from the way that he treats you and Ellaria, and Oberyn. Two soulmates. She can’t even fathom that, but he had shown her marks from both you and Ellaria, proving it to be true. Oberyn has been kind, flirtatious as well and she wonders if her first night in these chambers will be with everyone. Experiencing the orgies that Oberyn is famous for.

******

“You should wear this.” The cloak that you hold out to drape over Margaery’s shoulders is one of your own. Nondescript but comfortable and attractive, the piece will not mark her as Margaery Tyrell, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms but as just another noble lady walking with her party. “Keep the hood up while we are in the carriage. The last thing we want is to be stopped or mobbed on the way to having you married.”

“Is this how you felt when you married Oberyn?” She asks quietly. “Afraid you might be discovered before the vows could be said?” Her stomach knots up in fear that could happen, her slight chance at freedom ruined.

"I was terrified," you agree, though your face is much more serene now. "At any moment my mother could have been sending the keep's guard after us. I literally begged Oberyn to marry me."

“It does not seem like he regrets that decision.” Margaery looks over at Oberyn as the group walks towards the carriage.

“Regret would be the last word I would use to describe my marriage to the Princess.” He reaches for your hand and lifts it to his lips.

"I love you, too." The words have come easy since the first nice that you managed to say them, and you press your own lips to the back of Oberyn's hand in turn before accepting his help up into the carriage. The five of you will be cramped inside but you will manage. It is more important that you not be identified on your way to the Citadel than that you be able to spread out.

“Once you are wed, we will return to our rooms.” Oberyn tells the group as the carriage starts to move once you are all loaded up. “While I do not know how luxurious your chambers are, it would be better if you stayed with us on your wedding night.”

"Once the wedding is complete, my lord's chambers are mine anyway," Margaery points out with a nod of agreement. "I have no doubt that my father would have overwhelming questions when I returned. This will be better. Safer."

“Yes.” He nods in agreement. “Tomorrow, Raeden and I will inform your father.”

"It will not be good news to him." Although the more she sits with the idea and rolls it over in her mind, Margaery might actually be looking forward to this third marriage.

“No matter his feelings, it will be a successful marriage.” Oberyn predicts with a smile. “It will last longer than the other two.”

"It would be very difficult not to last longer than the second." Even as she says it, Margaery chews her lip. Her weeks have been filled with a magnitude of worries, not the least of which is the concern that if something should happen to her third husband then she might seclude herself somewhere untouchable for fear of being the unwitting cause of their demise. A jinx.

“Yes, it would.” Oberyn chuckles and looks to you for a moment before he leans over and whispers to you.

A silent nod and a kiss for your husband are the end of the communication for now, and you tuck a smile in the corner of your mouth as the carriage pulls through King's Landing. As troubling as your time in this city has been at points, it has also been rewarding and joyous on many occasions. Tonight, you hope will be one more moment of celebration.

******

Margaery takes a deep breath then the carriage finally rolls to a stop and Raeden looks over, reaching out with a smile as he takes her hand. “Perhaps you can guide me through this.” He whispers softly. “I have never been a husband, so you should instruct me on what to do.” He means it as a comfort, knowing she must be worried about another marriage.

"Try not to die." Margaery advises wryly, letting her fingers curl around his after a moment's hesitation. The carriage door swings open to let them all out and once more the group is on the move.

He chuckles as he hops out of the carriage first, turning to assist the ladies out. “Do not fear, I wish to die a very old man with my numerous children surrounding me.”

“From several mothers, if you are lucky.” Ellaria hums as she gets out of the carriage behind them.

Raeden turns to look at Margaery. “You would not object, would you? A child with my soulmates?”

“Before tonight I would have said that I objected to it most strongly,” she admits, looking around the group before her eyes meet Raeden’s again. “But to see love is something genuine, and I cannot find it in myself to object to a child that will be loved.”

“Believe me,” Oberyn chuckles. “All our children will be loved in our family. Which is what we are. One odd family.”

“A large, odd, loving family,” you agree before ringing the bell at the Citadel’s door. “Come. Let us have you two married.”

This time when the door is opened, a different face peers out at the group. A confused frown on the chubby cheeks of the younger man. “Yes?”

“Would you kindly inform Maester Rhodestone that the Prince and Princess of Dorne and their party are in need of his assistance?” Haste does not mean you have to be impolite, but it is essential to get your group inside so Margaery is not recognized. You have lent her a cloak, not a potion of invisibility.

“I will be back.” He informs you, stepping back to allow you into the Citadel. “Wait here.”

"Thank you." The five of you file into the foyer and almost sigh with relief as the door shuts behind you.

“We should have brought the book back.” Oberyn snaps his fingers, a smirk on his lips as he winks at you.

"If only we had not been in such a hurry." The twist of your mouth matches his smirk and you lean into his side.

"How careless of us." Ellaria agrees with a chuckle.

Raeden chuckles, leaning in to whisper in Margaery’s ear when she frowns in confusion. “The Princess borrowed a book from the maesters on soulmates when the second set of marks appeared on her skin.”

"When was it?" She still cannot quite believe the reality of having two soulmates, but the proof is irrefutable. She has seen the marks.

“Just a few weeks ago.” He tells her. “Ellaria and I did not know what to do when our own marks showed up. Afraid of what the Princess would think. But our fears were unfounded.”

"Your soulmate is very kind." Margaery's eyes glance over to you, and then past you to Ellaria, and she smiles. "They both are. You are very lucky."

“We are all lucky.” Raeden tells you quietly. “If you are blessed by the Seven to have another soulmate, they will be welcomed.” He tells his future wife. “I would not keep such an important person from you.”

“Let us hope that, if they do appear, they are as kind and as stalwart as the companions we have now.” Margaery has no illusions about her own worthiness as a political pawn - in that she is very powerful as one – but soulmates come from personal worth and that is an entirely different matter. One that she is not willing to let herself drown in now for fear of the melancholy it will bring.

“We do not know why some of us have marks and others do not.” Oberyn tells her. “But I personally believe that just because you do not share marks does not mean you cannot share your heart with someone.”

“The gods chose who could share my soul,” Margaery nods, finding that for all his reputation, Prince Oberyn is full of wisdom and not only instinct. “But I choose to whom I give my heart.”

“Precisely.” He hums, sending her a tiny wink as the rattling of chains signifies that a maester is returning.

“My favourite visitors,” Rhodestone chuckles at the sight of your group. “To what do I owe the pleasure so late on this night?”

“I have come once again to beg a favor.” Oberyn takes charge and steps forward. “Another marriage than needs to be made in haste.”

“I see.” Rhodestone surveys the group, standing before the five of you with interest and a characteristically expressive countenance. “The match is made freely? All parties are consenting?”

“We are, Maester.” Raeden steps forward and captures Margaery’s hand in his. “We desperately wish to be married and must make it so before the opportunity is lost.”

“Forgive me if I do not bow, your Grace. This old back does not cooperate as it once did.” Maester Rhodestone surveys the couple – their tightly joined hands and anxious postures, their forced smiles and their rounded shoulders. “I take it there is no time to waste?” He asks, sensing that – like last time – there is more to this haste than meets the eye.

“None.” Margaery insists. “Please know that I am willingly consenting to marrying this man and must do so immediately.”

“Then I see we have no time to waste.” He is not a man for politics or intrigue, though he understands both, and decides it is not in his best interest to ask questions. Instead, he waves for all of you to follow and chuckles under his breath. “This way, this way…although I suspect you remember from the last marriage.”

Margaery reaches out for your hand instinctively, even though she has gone through her vows twice now, this time is even more daunting. This time she is going against the political wishes of her father and making her own choice, forging her own destiny and she has only your obvious happiness to guide her.

“Breathe,” you remind her quietly. “All will be well.” And, with a much softer tone in your already hushed voice. “You have chosen a good man, Margaery. I promise you. He will protect and cherish you.”

“It is not my future I am worried for.” She admits quietly, her heart racing as she envisions letting all of you down, or worse, hurting you.

“We are a family now.” Holding tight to her hand, you offer her the most reassuring smile you are able, and continue walking together. “We look after each other. All of us.”

“Due to your marriage to my wife’s soulmate,” Oberyn adds quietly. “You will have very strong ties to House Martell.” He knows she is not worried about that, but it can be a comfort. “All of Dorne will be eager to come to House Sunstone’s aid if needed.”

“And my father’s House may be far away, but they will send aid if we should ever require it. We have friends who will help us.” Though you all hope that day will never come, it is necessary to be prepared for. Especially when there is so much at stake.

“Then all we can hope is that our union creates a happy home.” Raeden murmurs quietly. “I wish to fill the halls of whatever home with have with laughter, children and one day – love.”

Margaery seems positively flustered at such an optimistic picture of life ahead, and is blushing profusely between you and Raeden when you offer him a smile. “I have something for you both. And I hope that you will accept it with all the good intent it is given.” On one of your fingers, there is an intricate sunstone and bronze ring that Raeden himself had picked out at the market a week ago. He had settled on the new name for his House and presented it to you as a way to tell the group. Slipping it from your finger now, you take Raeden’s hand and place it in his palm. “Ellaria presented me with a ring that Oberyn had given her just before we were going to be married,” you explain to Margaery softly. “Now a ring from Raeden will leave my finger to grace yours. I pray it brings you happiness.”

Her gasp is soft, expression almost startled as she stares at the ring and then you. “Are you sure?” She asks quietly. It is a beautiful ring and yet she doesn’t know if she should accept.

“Very sure.” Even as you close his fingers around the trinket, Raeden looks as if he might be moved to tears, and you squeeze his hand tight. “One day perhaps you will pass on a ring to another bride, and we will make it a tradition.”

“It would make a lovely tradition. The first jewels in the Sunstone house.” She leans over and kisses your cheek. “I will cherish it, like I cherish your friendship.”

“Come.” Smile beaming at both of them, you motion to where the Maester, Oberyn, and Ellaria have gotten ahead of you. “Let us see you married and then we will all remember how to breathe a little easier.”

Now, when the moment has arrived, there is no fear. A sense of calm washes over the woman who was queen in name twice and never in reality. Now she will be Lady Sunstone and that is a brighter future than she might have every had as Margaery Tyrell.

______

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