A vintage's touch: There is no one at the other side of the phone

 A vintage's touch: There is no one at the other side of the phone

// Finally I am exploring a little bit of what we discussed a while ago. Just felt like trying my hand at it. it's angsty though... very. poor darlings. 

xxxx

#Tuuuuuut Tuuuuuuut.....#

The phone kept ringing in the dark. There was no one on the other side of it because Tommy didn't pick it up. How many times had Mary tried to reach out to him? How many times had she told the telephone operator to keep trying? She had lost counts. The rare times she was able to have someone, it wasn't Tommy but rather the butler or handmaid who was working on his room at the time, all saying the very same thing, just a variation of "He's not there." "He's just left" or even "He will call you back, he's in a meeting." Still, Mary called, worried sick about Tommy and overwhelmed with a feeling of powerlessness. Tommy was out of reach. She had no way to know how he was doing. He didn't write to her or send a telegram or anything really that could have appeased her mind. Instead, she was met with silence. 

#Tuuuuuuuut Tuuuuuuuut#

With each ring of the phone, Mary's lips trembled and she could feel her eyes slowly filling themselves with unshed tears. Tommy had made it clear. He didn't want to talk to her. he didn't want to let her know how he was doing. He was shutting her out. She slowly moved the phone off of her face, to wipe some tears that threatened to roll on her cheeks and she bit back a sob. Her eyes shifted from left to right and she tried to clear her throat but no other sound came out of her mouth. Instead, the phone operator took back the call and gave her a very apologetic: "I will have to end the call Mrs Coulson. There is obviously no one on the other side of the phone." before she ended the call and left Mary with nothing but silence for company. 

The nurse felt her heart break and she tightly clutched at her shirt. What could she do if not just sit and accept that Tommy didn't want to talk to her? He had been absent for months now. While his body only left the house for a month, his mind had already been away for months now. It coincided with his admission of having seizures, which happened only after Mary had witnessed him have one. Ever since he seemed to be elusive. He left often, they didn't speak much, and he sheltered himself from her. At first, the nurse tried to get him to talk to her, but the more she did, the more he withdrew within himself, forcing her to stop. She learned all she could about seizures and asked doctors she knew how best she could help a loved one going through one. She tried to find a way to give him support but it didn't work. Then, a couple days before he went on a business trip, Tommy came back home. 

It was a rainy day and he was soaked with water as he pushed the door of their home open. That night, while they argued because Mary was worried he would catch a cold and get sick, he simply told her that he thought about suicide. He was ready to jump off of a bridge and even saw his late wife in the water. The revelation acted like a bomb. it decimated everything inside her heart, especially the idea that he could have had feelings for her. Ultimately, he saw his late wife, the love of his wife and he wanted to join her. Ultimately, who was even Mary to try and form a romantic bond with Tommy? Ultimately what use could he have of her love for him? Mary didn't say anything, but from that day she tried her best to keep her feelings out of her interactions with Tommy. She acted as if she was yet another maid as if she was only there to look after him and Charlie. He saw the change in demeanor. He saw the pain in her eyes and worst of all, he realized that he had hurt Mary and pushed her deeper into the web of lies she kept telling herself. That was why he became even more distant, that was why he didn't take her calls (well, some of them, the others he couldn't). He didn't know how to fix the situation and make her hurt less. Mary ended up believing that he had no feelings for her and didn't even care about her. 

#Tuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu....#

As she sat in the silence of the room, Mary covered her mouth to muffle her sobs as she finally let it all out. how could she believe that Tommy would fall for her? Why did she believe that anyone could? at this point, she was being delusional into thinking she had a second chance at life and that perhaps she could find happiness in this house, with these people who were her home. Tommy couldn't possibly love her when he had lost the woman he loved the most: Grace!  Tommy couldn't possibly look at her and desire a life with her. What could she give him? Her heart was devastated by her loss and the violence in her past. She couldn't help herself but make sure that no one in her care was wounded and always tried to be of service. At least she would be useful, at least she was useful. At least...  but what could someone like Tommy want in someone who was just being useful? who wasn't in the loop of things? Who wasn't a gangster or just... a woman of the world? Tommy had ambitions and Grace's background was important and helped him secure a position. What could a black orphan woman give him? What could he even want from her? The intrusive thoughts filled her head and made the young woman cry harder. She blamed herself for her own misery, thinking that it was foolish of her to expect a man like Tommy to fall for a woman like her, and because of their latest argument, he didn't want to talk to her. And because he was so far away, vulnerable to his seizures and suicidal thoughts, she couldn't be there for him. Ultimately, she just wanted to be there... to help...to comfort him. Wasn't it ironic, to have these thoughts while she was crying? 

A vintage's touch: I have failed her

A vintage's touch: I have failed her

// Because I love me some Arthur. he would have a hard time after Mary's assault. 

xxxx

Arthur lit a cigarette and took it to his lips. his face was sunken, hardened by the anger and the stress that had overwhelmed the eldest Shelby. he couldn't sleep, not after the debacle that was Mary's assassination attempt by that cunt "Archie" or "Archer" whatever. Arthur wasn't in the mood for pleasantries, to be honest, ever since he learned that Mary survived an attack, he was on the verge of giving in to his old demons once again. Linda had returned to his life and helped him return to health but it was so fragile and his resolve was paper thin. To know that he almost lost Mary and he wasn't even there to protect her opened old wounds. The hallucinations he couldn't have when he was torched up by alcohol, he had them in nightmares. Memories of the war crept back up, reminding him of the horror humans could inflict on other humans. He remembered the dead bodies, some still in one piece but filled with bullets, while others were torn apart by bombs and other war machines. Memories of his late brother, John, one of the very few people on this bloody Earth who could understand what they went through. He still remembered his sweet and young face, so pale after life had left his body, at peace maybe... at peace at last... He still remembered wanting to avenge him and then join him in death because how else could he keep going?  Memories of a dying Grace, being held by a crying Tommy resurfaced and the guilt of that day strangled him again. 

Arthur had failed his family. He had failed Grace, John, and his comrades who fell during the War. He had failed Mary. She needed help and protection and on that day, he was so drunk that he gave her inexperienced Peaky Boys to look after her. his blood boiled upon learning that she had to use a gun and later on, a knife to kill her assailants. Because of Arthur, because of his inability to care for the people he loved, Mary was forced to kill with her hands. She was a nurse! She, who was never supposed to kill, had to because of his negligence and drunken stupor. Arthur apologized to her, and in her good grace, she forgave him, even going as far as to tell her that it wasn't his fault.  Arthur then talked to Tommy, hoping that he would be reprimanded instead and that his brother would make him pay for his mistake. Tommy did, but not in the way Arthur expected him to. He told him that he should have had his head straight on that day, that when he was out of town, the safety of his family fell upon Arthur. He told him to get his fucking head together and stay sober. however, he didn't lash out at Arthur. he didn't even get angry at him. however, there was a clear sign of disappointment and that was what got the Shelby. Arthur felt worse because he disappointed Tommy and it didn't sit well with him for more than a week. 

"Arthur....Do you understand that this is not going to help you?" -Mary's voice tore him off of the silence he forced himself into- "Hey... Look at me. I'm right here."

"I can see you just fine, lass. I'm just, not right in me head that's all." -He wanted to sound dismissive but Mary saw right through him. She pinched the bridge of her nose and gently fell on her knees, so she could hold onto the hand that was on his lap. Arthur looked at her, his tired blue eyes softened at the sight of the young woman. 

"Arthur. You have to let go of your guilt. it's going to eat at you, it's going to hurt you more than anything else. What happened wasn't your fault, you couldn't have known about the attack."

"I have failed you, Mary! I have failed you! There's no excuse for this! I was drunk out of me head! and look what that brought! I almost lost a sister again." He lamented. She held onto his hand tighter and shook her head. "Tommy doesn't trust me anymore. I'm useless..." She shook her head again. 

"I trust you, still. I need you still. He needs you, Arthur. Don't you dare think that he doesn't! he can't do this on his own. So I beg of you, get yourself together, stop blaming you for what happened to me. I'm here, I'm fine and I'll be safe. We'll be even more careful." She took a deep breath. "Promise me, Arthur. promise me that you will try your best to stay sober this time." She cupped his cheek and gently pressed a kiss on the back of his hand. "And that you'll be there for Tommy. Okay? I need you to be here for Tom. He needs you."

Arthur swallowed a lump and puffed some smoke. He wanted to promise. He wanted to be the man he knew both Tommy and Mary needed but it was difficult for him. So instead, he gently stroked Mary's hair and helped her stand back up on her feet. He stood up too and gently grabbed her shoulders. Mary swallowed a lump and nodded, understanding that he would be doing what she told him to. He pulled her into a hug and she held onto him as hard as she could. She was there for him too and somehow, this alleviated a bit of his pain. 

A vintage's touch: Low-Hanging fruit.

A vintage's touch: Low-Hanging fruit.

// These two. ugh... I love them so much. Get ready for Arthur's thoughts and finally  Mary's. 

Can't wait to get to our drama-juicy era :p for now, he only has to deal with this one.  You're awesome as my Tommy N. always has been. always will be :D 

xxxxx

How could he make her understand? How could he let Mary know that all she believed in were lies? Lies she told herself about him. Lies she told herself. Lies she was told about him.  He wished he knew the answer to his question -he did!- and he wished she could understand without any explanation from him -he knew she couldn't.- Lizzie was faster than he could ever be and she had poisoned Mary's mind with her lies... well.. were they? Tommy knew how he treated Lizzie. With her, things were transactional, as they have always been. While she became a good friend and ally of the Peaky Blinders and the Shelby family, she wasn't even close to becoming a lover. She wasn't Mary, that much Tommy could acknowledge.  She wasn't the woman that had haunted his sleepless nights, nor the one he wanted to find once he returned home. She wasn't the woman whose smile made his heart tingle and his knees weak. She wasn't the woman who had stirred desire in his loins, let alone the one now sleeping by his side.  Mary was. Mary was the only reason he hadn't already offed himself. She kept him together after the loss of Grace and the loss of John. She kept him together even now...with her lovely lullabies she sang to him sometimes, to the warmth of her arms wrapped around his frame. Mary and her gentle efforts to get to know him better, and her comforting presence in the life of his son. Their son.... Mary was...Mary was... 

How could he make her understand? how could he let Mary know that she wasn't a commodity. She wasn't there to replace grace. She wasn't there to replace Lizzie. She wasn't a novelty nor a whore he would be using to empty his sacks. She was a woman he... A woman he... A woman he... He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing full well he couldn't finish his trail of thoughts. Deep down, Tommy knew what he felt for the nurse. He was in love but it scared him to be. He didn't want a repeat of the same tragedies that had followed him since he was a teenage boy. He didn't want to lose Mary to Death so it was easier to keep his feelings to himself, and to show his love in a way that only she could understand. Well, did she? Did she? Of course not! If she understood how he felt for her, Mary wouldn't have freaked out the way she did because he didn't pick up the phone. She wouldn't have thought he didn't give two fucks about her well-being. She wouldn't have thought he didn't care whether she was alive or dead. It was a lie, a web of lies and only had the answers and only he could appease her fears. Could he blame her? Mary had never known love in her life, and the only time she could have, her child was taken from her. Could he blame her for wanting to ensure he felt the same way as she did? Not really, but he wasn't ready. He couldn't take the risk of losing her and go through the same thing all over again. So what to do? What to do? 

TB: Hooked on John

 Sara was hooked on John. It was a simple fact. It was the easiest fact to be honest. She had welcomed him from the very first time they met (except, back then, she was also afraid because dude was scary). Still, her ability to talk her way out of trouble somehow brought them closer than she could ever expect and the two bonded quite easily, quite deeply, quite unhealthily. 

Sara is well aware that being this attached to someone, this fast could not benefit her in the long run. It never did with her exes but she couldn't really resist the extraordinary pull Homelander had on her. It was as if they were made for each other and the more they spent time together, the more it confirmed that they were, indeed, meant to be. 

It wasn't obsession, but more of a sensation of having found one's family and someone who could anchor the other in this life. It was the sensation of having found the right person, the one who would be a ride or die. It was the perception of having found the love of one's life that tied them together. They were finally understood, finally loved for who they were and both were perfectly happy with it. Sara's world was a small one. There use to only be Dotty (her manager and mother figure) and herself. Now she added Homelander and Ryan. the rest of the world could crumble for all she cared. She was happy with the three most important people in her life.

xxx

Sara's partners have at least two things in common: 

"Their smile" and "their intense gaze": Sara has always been unable to resist people who could focus their attention on her like her exes did. She could barely resist people with an intense smile. Tara had the prettiest of them all it was warm, inviting and incredibly sexy because she knew how to use it. Brett used to be the one with the most intense gaze she'd ever met. 

that was before she met with Homelander. John surpasses every single one of them with his charisma, his intensity and his goddamn beauty. needless to say that Sara just can't get enough of him. it is what it is!

xxxx

John: 

Well, John is Homelander and Homelander is John. However, his alter ego (brunette, thanks to a brown dye she bought him and with a scruffy beard), allows him to be more of himself. It's the way they found to be able to do mundane things without the world clocking that he's Homelander and she's Unnamed Girl. Sara and John love to spend time together, doing very simple things that don't ask too much efforts for the both of them. 

Sara is helping John handle this alter-ego thing since she's used to doing it. He's slowly getting used to it and would enjoy more and more being an absolute prick to whoever tries to bother his girl (and him for that matter) without repercussions.

xxx

"You're all always happy when he come to your rescue but you always have something negative to say about how he does it!

He could have been doing a billion things instead of saving you, but when he does, suddenly it's "you should have done this or that" or "not my American Hero." oh piss off... piss all the way off! 

There would be a day I would tell him not to bother with anyone anymore and we'll see who is going to save you when he's not around."

GoT: "Betrothed"

Betrothed. 

The princess and the knight were betrothed. Coming to the realization that her dream had come true,  Bäahal couldn't help herself but smile at her reflection in the mirror. Bäahal had tilted her head to the side and was enjoying the memories of the morning. Jaime and she finally expressed their love for each other. Her body was still hot from their previous romp, her cheeks were dark from the blood that had rushed there and her breathing was still labored. Moments ago, the knight had ravaged her body, he had explored and claimed every single crease and curve of hers and she had enjoyed it. She had explored him too, allowing her hands to wander over his hard frame, his curly blonde locks, his beard, and his chiseled chest. She allowed her fingers to explore his body and his hard length with her fingers, her mouth, and of course, her moist core. It was the first time the princess actually made love, the first time she allowed a man to touch and claim her. 

She could barely register the emotions she was going through. Joy, of course, excitement, lust, and probably satisfaction. It was a wonderful experience. One she wanted to repeat as soon as possible and this new hunger put a smile on her lips. Jaime was such a kind man. He cared for her throughout the whole communion. He cared for her feelings, her emotions, her sensations, and her pleasure. He made sure she knew she had control and could call things off if she wanted to. He let her decide for herself, make demands, reclaiming her agency and that had been the best gift she'd ever had. Jaime... was beautiful. For the first time in her life, Bäahal took the time to look at a man, to see the little things that made Jaime who he was, the scars, the creases, the curves of his ass, the way his waist felt when she held onto it. She loved to see how strong her beloved was, how passionate, feverish, and ultimately how vulnerable he was too.  He was such a wonderful man and she was the lucky woman who was betrothed to him. 

Daenerys blessings were such a relief for the princess. She wouldn't have to worry about her union being accepted by her family but would only have to focus on the rest.  The smiling face of the princess slowly became somber as reality settled. They still had to hide her survival until the traitors who launched a siege against her were tried and punished by the queen. They still couldn't go out, or organize a banquet for their betrothal. They would have to face a huge backlack given Jaime's bad reputation and the deep hatred Westerosis felt for him. Bäahal knew that the months leading to their wedding would not be the easiest and she would have to take her responsibilities and act as her rank demanded. They had to be perfect to the outside world, so no one could ever say that the knight brought dishonor to the princess. 

Betrothed.

It was a bittersweet situation because the princess couldn't fully enjoy it but it was still better than anything she had ever known. Her heart, body, and soul belonged to Jaime Lannister and they both had decided to lace their lives together. What else could she dream of? It was all that she had ever wanted and she would fight to keep it that way.

Doya: you saved me.

"You saved me, Dean. You certainly did. I was so determined to die in the line of duty, hoping that somehow it would absolve me of my sins. I thought I was responsible for my mother's death, for my brother's and my father's. I used to carry the guilt over my shoulder, hoping that somehow, killing the monster that took my mom and brother's lives would somehow, make it even. I thought that I couldn't be loved again because I had nothing but sorrow to give. I was mistaken. I was so mistaken but at the time, I couldn't see it. Then you came and Team Free Will and suddenly I had a second chance at life. I had people who cared for me. I had people who loved me.  Dean...The years spent in your company healed me. I found pleasure in being alive again and reasons to keep fighting for and to stay alive. I found my new home in you and Team Free Will and... I found out that I could be loved, just for myself. 

You saved me, Dean. I don't know how to express the way I feel but you gave me a second chance and I want to make the best of it. we have our slice of apple pie and it's a beautiful life, doing things we love to do. Helping people, killing monsters... That's the family motto, that's our life and we get to do it together. I count my blessings and I know that I'm lucky, I'm lucky to have you. I'm lucky to have found you and you know that I accept everything about you, the good, the bad, and the ugly. I accept the kids you had before we met and I will accept you as you are. With you, I can be myself. I don't need to pretend. I don't need to toughen up. I don't need to lie. I just need to be. With you, I can relax! I know I will have crippling nightmares at night, but I also know that your arms would be wrapped around me. I would not be alone. You'll be here, with me.  You saved me by loving me and that's why I'm so proud to be your wife. You've always been it for me Dean. You've always been my happily ever after and you will always. So... how about we go and slay the beast? what say you, partner?"

Klasma: Disgust

Klasma: "Disgust." 

(It's a little flash forward. It takes place after Klaus' rescue.)

Neela looked at her shoulder. It was still healing from the injury inflicted upon her by the werewolf she fought a couple of days earlier. It stung, more than the witch had ever wanted it to hurt but it reminded her of her own mortality, and in a way she welcomed the wounds and the pain caused by it. She was alive, after all, and the curse could not take it away from her. Her golden eyes set upon her reflection in the mirror and the witch found herself biting at her bottom lip. It had happened again, after all these decades spent hidden and in control, Nëela let her anger take the best out of her. During the rescue, the only desire she had was to decimate her enemies and rescue Klaus. In the midst of the fire, she could have hurt Klaus himself if she had not been brought back to reality. How could she still be storing that much anger? How could she still be a danger to those around her? 

Her eyes swelled up and she could feel tears quickly fill them. Was it what her curse had reduced her to be? A bloodthirsty creature that could only feel relief when she inflicted pain? She had no remorse during her rampage, quite the opposite. She was elated by the sounds of pain and agony she earned by her actions because, to her, her enemies were the recipients of her pain. She was happy because they would feel what they made her feel when she thought Klaus had abandoned her. Still, that part was true today. It was also true that the witch hated to give in to her impulses and wreak havoc. All this blood, all this pain... It didn't make her feel good once her hunger was satiated. Instead, she felt shame. She wanted to crawl back into the darkness and keep her power in check.  Did that make her a monster? Her reflection thought so, given the tears that were now rolling down her cheeks. Nëela ran her hand through her curly pink locks, holding a fistful of hair before she slowly started to sob. She was a healer, yet she couldn't stop killing wherever she went. She couldn't stop because she had to defend herself and those she loved.

"Was it the real curse you cast on me, Supreme? Did you want to force me to take lives rather than save them? You must be laughing where you are... laughing because you force me to lose myself a little more every day...."

She whispered to her reflection before the hand that was holding her hair gently laid against the glass. It wasn't her loneliness nor the fact every single creature would reject her. It was the fact she would have no choice but to kill if she wanted to survive. The whole point was to make her life a living hell where she would be forced to go against her very beliefs in order to stay alive. how cruel of a punishment. How cruel...

-TBC-

TB: "You can't tell her nothing."

 You can't tell Sara nothing about her body. You can't tell her she's ugly. You can't tell her she's too fat. You can't tell her that her freckles are ugly. You can't tell Sara nothing about her body, she know her worth, she plays with it and she definitely can use it for her own benefit.

Way too many people had tried to make her feel self-conscious. Way too many people try to make her hate herself and to make her hide her body. They wanted her to cover her curves and plaster her skin with make-up. They wanted her to be glamourous, fake, and they wanted to mold her into the woman they wanted her to be.

But it never worked.

She set herself free.

She is free.

Klasma Headcanon: Old century

 Headcanon: Old century

One of the things Nëela doesn't regret is the old century (centuries). They weren't really favorable to her and she had to fend for herself and force others to respect her. Sometimes she used magic to force humans to treat her decently despite their bigotry and racism but fortunately, she also met people who were open-minded and genuinely treated her with humanity and decency. 

Still, She's much better in the current times, where she would blend in society without having to justify her very presence there. She still keeps memories of the past times, mostly portraits or pictures of herself to remember where she comes from and what she had to endure.

Klasma: "headcanon: His violence."

 Headcanon: his violence. 

Klaus is known to be a very violent creature. He's impulsive and usually has no qualms and no remorse when it comes to stopping his siblings (how many times did he stab Rebekah? how many times did he break Elijah's neck?) or to destroy his enemies. the witch is well aware of his power and his violent streak. As a matter of fact, she has been a victim of it centuries ago when Klaus went on a rampage and slaughtered her family. She's not afraid of him. She's not afraid of this side of him. She very much became the same over the centuries (since her curse) and has so much blood on her hands that she doesn't mind seeing violence play out in front of her. however, she still values life and would try her best not to take it from others.

The girls and their men: "what they love about them."

“Oya:

Dean is truly the cutest when he sings and enjoys his favorite songs. I usually try to join him when he lets loose. He doesn’t often do it, because he is often focused and serious. Often really tired or focused. She loves how cute and relaxed he can be when he’s enjoying himself and wants him to be able to do so as much as possible.”

xxxxxx

Elpis “My Sin can be extremely Romantic in the way humans do. I love it so much when he takes me to dinner and we have fun. I love it when we can dance and I can tell him how much I love him. I love when he makes me feel like a billion dollars. Like the only star in the sky. I love it when he loses his fingers in my hair and looks into my eyes. He is perfect. Perfection made flesh and I love when he’s all sensual.”

xxxxx

Neela: 

“I know the obvious thing to say is that he looks so good when he paints. The truth is, I love it when Klaus is smiling. More than I care to admit. I love it when he dances with me and makes me blush. He has the softest voice when he wants to and when I panic and am worried and he wants to…. Comfort me.  I love to be able to hold onto him. His touch comforts me.”

xxxx

Baahal: 

“I love it when Jaime feels a bit selfish and takes what he wants from me. His focused face is the most beautiful face I have ever seen. It sends shivers down my spine and I feel so damn good. Uh! He is so handsome! Eyes with a hard edge and his impulsivity make me feel so wild. He wouldn’t hesitate to bend me over and lift my robes up. He wouldn’t hesitate to make me feel his bulge.  He is hot, beyond reason and I don’t think I can ever resist him when he feels like this. I love it when he’s spontaneous. Truly.”

xxxxx

Mary: 

“Tommy…. Look. I love his smile. It’s so…. I feel electric when he does smile at me. And even more when he looks at me with an intense gaze.  But I will try to pick something new.  Well…. I love it when he’s being sarcastic. I love his wits. I love it when he is outsmarting others with words. He’s so dominant and so…. Clever!”

xxxx

And Sara:

“I love… okay. It’s a bit sexy but I have to say that. You know, I love my baby. He’s perfect. I love his intense blue eyes a lot and I have to say, when he looks at me, I really adore him. Especially when he drinks from me. I love the way he closes his eyes and is stubborn when he doesn’t let go of my nipple. He is so handsome like that. So handsome with his mouth full of milk and his lips wrapped around my nipple and his eyes either opened on me or closed because he was savoring the moment.  I have to say, it turns me on, it truly makes me so good when he services my heavy teats. But it’s his face I love the most, he’s at peace. He’s feeling good. He’s himself. And I love it the most.”

A vintage's touch: "I'm here."

Tommy couldn’t sleep. What use could he have of sleeping when Mary was in danger? He had been trying to find the moment her protection failed as a way to ensure it would never happen again. Mary had to kill, her pretty hands, made for saving lives were used to take them away.  He could understand the way she felt, he could understand the fact she was shaking when he reached out to her, her eyes blank, her lips trembling, and dried tears on her face.  She seemed to be doing better, at least he noticed she was slowly returning back to her old self, still solar, still warm, still… her.  For a brief moment, he realized that she could have been gone. Not physically but mentally. She could have been changed for the worse and turned into a colder version of herself. But instead, she remained as he knew her.  To his wonder and relief. Mary acted out of love for Charlie. She wanted to protect the child and she did it. Love guided her hands and perhaps that love was what saved her soul. He didn’t know. He asked Polly In his sleep but Polly didn’t answer him. Mary was alive. She was shaken but she was still here, with him. Still, he couldn’t sleep and ended up shifting on the bed and standing up. Mary rolled on her side and opened her eyes, setting them on the Shelby’s strong back.  

“Can’t sleep?” He nodded and felt her shift on the bed and sit on it, her feet flat on the floor.  “…..” she sighed and stood up,  closing the distance between the two of them. “Mr. Shelby. I think you are overthinking. Today was a good day.  And tomorrow will be.” She wrapped her arms around his chest, allowing her hands to rest against his pecs while the older man dropped his head and slowly but surely put his hands over hers to keep her there. 

Mary leaned her head against his shoulders and took a deep breath. She would not push him too hard tonight but she would reassure him. She could feel his heartbeats become faster and harder and knew how tense Tommy was at this moment.  Her lips pressed soft kisses to his neck and she said in a soft voice. “I can’t begin to imagine how worried you must be right now, afraid that another tragedy will happen and you end up losing everything again. I— know that you wonder if you and me make sense. If you didn’t put me in danger…. If you didn’t curse me. You have not. I don’t know a lot of things Tommy Shelby, but I know that you and me…. We make sense. We didn’t anger God. We didn’t anger Grace. She wanted someone to care for Charlie and for you. I am here. I will always be watching after my  two beautiful boys.” She felt his hand squeeze onto hers harder after she mentioned Grace but he didn’t want to let her go. She could tell that was the kind of squeeze.

“ you are right about something, Mary. I wouldn’t know what to do if you were dead. I need… the only thing that kept me sane all these fucking years was you. I would have lost it….”  She blinked and moved her eyes from left to right as she felt her own heart sink. Tommy was open, at least enough for her to see he was telling the truth. He meant these words and for the first time in her life, she felt wanted. Not in the innocent and childish way of Charlie, but in the mature way of his 

Father. 

“You speak… you speak as if I was thinking about leaving you behind. Not on my watch, Tommy. I need you way too much to let go. You made me feel wanted, desired… you made me feel like myself after so long. I was in a fog, Tommy. A fog since my child died. I felt that my life meant nothing and that I would be better dead. That the world would be. But I met you and you destroyed those stupid thoughts, one at a time. I can see and feel clearly now. I am not in a fog anymore…. I am here. With you. With Charlie.”  She pinched her lips together and felt him slowly turn around to face her.

“Mary…” he cupped both of her cheeks and kissed Mary. It was a passionate kiss, a desperate one as he needed to feel her. He was brutal in the way his lips pressed to hers, refusing to slow them to breathe and forcing Mary to struggle a bit with him so he could take a few steps back, break the kiss, and fall to his knee.  She noticed the unshed tears in his eyes and felt her own eyes be imbued with hers. 

“Stay.” That was all he could manage to say. He couldn’t ask her to leave him because it was too long of a sentence and his throat was gagged. He couldn’t explain properly how he felt and that was frustrating him. His brain was working twice as fast and there were a million things he wanted to say. But Tommy ended up muttering and begging for one word. His arms were open, inviting the nurse to come and hug him and she did. Of course, she did. Mary went and closed her arms around his shoulders and placed her hands on his head. She cuddled him, her face pressed to his head while she stroked his scalp. He could hear the heartbeats of the woman, strong, calm, soothing and he could wrap his own arms around her waist, keeping her close to his frame while his heart cried tears he couldn’t shed. She was everything to him. Everything that kept him alive and together. Everything was good he couldn’t let go of.  She was his. And he was hers. That much he knew. That was all he needed to know tonight.

GoT: I dream of you

I dream of your kindness, of the tender way you would tell me the things I don’t know. I dream of the soft tone of your voice as you say my name and the gentle touch on my skin. You would kiss my lips and then my shoulders, shushing away any bad thought that I could have. Shushing away any doubt I can have. My skin is yours. And my heart belongs to you. I need your words whispered in my ear as you explore inside me with your fingers. I need your praise as you enjoy the warmth of my mouth as I taste you, as I devour you, as I make take you in and savor your taste.

I dream of your roughness, that bold side of yours that wouldn’t hesitate to make your desires clear to me. I want to hear the filthiest words come out of your mouth and fall on my ears. I want to shiver by anticipation because I know what you want to do to me. I want our skin to burn because of our passionate touch. I need that rough side of you, Jaime, when you take what you want from me. When you make me feel the abundant passion between your legs and you desire to feel my heat up close and personal. I need that rough side of yours, when you squeeze my flesh, when you kiss me as if you were devouring me, when you pull on my hair and possess me devilishly.  Oh I desperately need you, my beloved Jaime. I desperately need you, regardless of the mood you are in.

Doya: I love hunting with you

Doya: I love hunting with you

// Love our babies. 

Oya tilted her head to the side, and her heavy locks fell on her chest and onto Dean's back. She was straddling him, determined to help him relax. His back was still covered with the scratches she gave him the night before, which made the hunter grin.  He let her take care of him, the energetic hands were undoing the knots he had on his shoulders. He purred and leaned his cheek against his arms. 

“You were so good yesterday, Dean. I loved how you took care of that demon.” 

“You did?” She nodded and hummed a little bit while her hands closed on his neck. “I guess I was great then.” 

“You are always great! I made some progress since the first time we hunted demons together.” She noted, her hands still managing him. 

“Yeah! You did. You used to be paralyzed whenever we worked these cases. Now, you kick ass and take names!” He said proudly. 

Oya was excited by the compliment. She used to be terrified of Christian demons, freezing on the spot when they appeared. She had such a deep ingrained fear that it took a long while for both of them to help Oya overcome her fears. Now, it was different. Oya was different and Dean felt proud. She smiled at him and gently bent forward, kissing his neck.

“Thanks to you. I became better and… I really love hunting with you. It’s the best thing in the whole world.” She then felt him shift in the bed and roll around so he could face her. Oya giggled and bit her bottom lip.” You’re the best thing in the world. The best thing to ever happen to me, husbando.” She grinned and pressed a kiss to his lips. 

Dean felt his heart beat faster and he rolled around, switching position with Oya so he was hovering above her. He lost his fingers into her wild mane and bent forward, peppering her neck with kisses. 

“Same.” He nuzzled her neck and gently nibbled on her skin. “You know I feel the same.” He repeated while he managed to lay on top of her, propping himself on his arms so she wouldn’t have to be crushed by his body. “We will always hunt together.” 

« I don’t always make promises unless I am sure I can keep them. But this, this I can. I’m here. Always. Fucking always. » 

« Damn right! »

COPG: "The serpent was in her house."

 While looking back at how life had been, the lies, the grooming, the schemes, it was hard for the goddess of Light and Hope to find solace knowing that for most of her life, the snake was in her own house.  the memories of her past with her siblings brought a lot of anger to the goddess who would have thrown up to have been so close to the conspirator of her murder. 

Ayasha was cunning, she was a weasel, a cynical mastermind who would do everything and anything to achieve her goal. For a long while, she pretended to be close to her and even dared claim that she loved her. the memories of those words uttered to her ears, while the blonde goddess would stroke the pink locks of her sister resonated inside her brain and made the goddess puke her soul. it was wrong, it was awful, it was something that made her nauseous but it also was a motivation. Ayasha would die and Elpis would bathe in her golden blood. it was a promise, it was the future. 

COPG: She was the goddess of Light

  She was the goddess of Light and Hope, the ultimate product of love between the All-Father  Khaos and the All-Mother Gaea.  

She was his queen, his Light, and the one he fought to set free from her curse. Elpis was hungry for more. Long was gone the naive goddess, groomed to ignore her destiny and true ability. Long gone was the innocence from her eyes, as she had realized the truth about her family and the world. 

Instead, she had matured into someone stronger. She realized that she had potential, something she should tap into in order to fulfill her destiny and she managed to do just this. over the weeks spent with her beloved, Elpis managed to harness her power, master some of it, and reach new levels. Perhaps the path to becoming the new All-mother was at her reach. Perhaps, this time, she could carve her legend in the fabric of all Eternity. 

Perhaps, all of this was just the beginning. 

Doya:; She was a wonder

She was a wonder

"She was a wonder and she knew it. Oya was definitely confident in herself. She was a badass on the field, eating monsters for breakfast and she was the fiercest lover one could ever know.  She was confident in her ability to save people and protect them from monsters, and she was confident in her ability to love. What she wasn't confident in  was her ability not to screw herself over. 

What she wasn't confident in was her desire to save everyone at all cost even if that meant she would die in the process. What she wasn't confident in was her ability to forget her pain, or forgive herself for what happened to her parents and siblings. What she wasn't confident in was the look of her arms, the deep scars caused by the monster she tried to kill while killing herself in the process.. 

The Asanbosam left reminders of her own recklessness and of what once was, a desire to pay for her sins and the sins of the world. The catastrophes she was responsible for.. the pain and destruction she left on her wake. The Asanbosam reminded her of that time in her life, when she didn't have love in her heart and didn't know she would find anchors to this world, a teether, a Home in Dean and Team Free Will. 

Would she be able to move past that? Would she be able to stop herself from repeating the same mistakes? Would she be able to let him love her, despite the darkness in her heart? She could. Yes, she could. 

Yes, she would. 

She was a wonder...."

JB (modern) What would happen if you ever died?

 JB (regular): 

What would happen if you ever died? I couldn't dare think about it. I couldn't try to imagine life without you. I know I would survive you, for I cannot give up on my family. I would live for them, I would do my best to keep them safe but I would be devastated if you are gone. Oh Jaime, you give me purpose. you give me a reason to fight every morning. I didn't expect to know love in this lifetime and was certain that I would die serving others, be it family, be it friends, be it the throne...I was about to give myself to this life. I didn't trust people, let alone men. To me they were all the same, taking whatever they wanted with no consideration for the others. 

I went through so much shit, you know them all. Being used as an object because I wasn't born in the right family. Being despised, desired, abused for everything I had. I had nothing but my pride and the desire to fulfill my mother's dream of freedom. I was free but upon discovering freedom, I was burdened with uncertainty and darkness. What to do now that I was free? I placed myself in the service of my sister, thinking that my life was no worthy of more. I was willing to become her blade, her shield, whatever she needed to be safe but I didn't think about me. You made me. You saved me. 

So how could I go on without you? I would lose my raison de vivre! You are a man I trust. You are a man I fell in love with. The first and I hope, my last. I searched the seven kingdoms for you. I cried out your name when I was dying from starvation. I only want you... even now as I am confronted with the idea of you losing your life to find the traitors to the thrones, I cannot imagine myself love another human being. I can't. I simply can't. You are my everything and I beg of you... I beg of you to survive. I know, I know my sister might not allow us to be together, but I surely would feel better if you were alive rather than dead. I would still be able to protect you from afar, to love you from a distance and ensure your family's safety...Do not die. I beg of you. Do not die for if you do die, I will die with you. My always and forever! My beloved. 

-TBC-

GoT: "I'm excited for the year to come"

 For the first time in a long while, I am excited about the year to come. I cannot wait to enter 2023 with you in my life. I can't wait to plan our future together and plan the life I want to share with you. I can't wait to look into your green eyes, a glass of champagne in my hand, and my purple eyes set upon your green ones. 

I'm yours, Jaime Lannister. I'm yours now. I'll be yours tomorrow. I have been yours from the moment we met. I told you I wanted to take you to Naath, and I will. I want you to enjoy the place I grew up at. I want to visit my mom's grave with you. I want to introduce you to her just so she could see how happy I am with you. I also... I'm also a friend of your sister and I am happy to be. Truly, the year has been good for me. Truly, the year has been great for me.  You have been. I love you. Happy New year!"

GoT modern: She wasn't a bad person

(Modern)

She had her life in every magazine, pictures taken by paparazzi, and everyone thought they knew who she was. Some thought she was one of those young harlots who had nothing in her brain and only had an uncanny beauty to sell. Some others believed that she was and would only be a usurper, the bastard child of Aerys II Targaryen, a good-for-nothing woman who was suckling on the teats of her father's fortune. She was a segway to her much more interesting sister, the powerful Daenerys Targaryen, head of the family estate, an implacable business shark who expanded and strengthened her father's legacy. She was the Genius of the family. She was the only true heiress. Not like her (former, but nobody was sure) washed-out older brother Viserys or her younger sister, Bäahal, who was mostly known for her harsh tongue and attitude. 

She had her life in every magazine, pictures taken by paparazzi, a false idea of her personality spread on cold sheets. Bäahal was nothing like the idea others had of her. She could read you to filth but would only do so if you attacked her first. She could punch and kick if violence was her only way out. She could be crass, she could be hot, (she was hot), she could be mesmerizing and was known to haunt some people's dreams (ahem, Bronn could testify). But Bâahal was more than that. Bäahal was a kind heart and a soft soul. She was genuine, honest, and sincere. She was lonely, extremely lonely and hurt, and determined to help her family get better. She was stubborn, and sometimes a handful, but was she a bad person? 

No. she wasn't. 

Yet, she didn't know it. 

yet, she couldn't see it. 

Doya: I eat monsters for breakfast

 I eat monsters for breakfast. that's all you need to know when it comes to me. I am a hunter, one of the meanest and most efficient one. I am a hunter, but it entails more than just fighting. It means that I save people. It means that I am here when it matters and I can save lives. it means that I hear you when you scream at night and that you're not alone. It is more than just a job. it's a vocation. it's my true calling. 

I eat monsters for breakfast but I am a soft heart when you get to know me. I have lost a family and found another with the Winchesters and Team Free Will. I thought my heart was broken and beyond repair and suddenly, here I am again, in love, deeply so. Here I am again, with a desire to build a good life with Dean, and to work hard so we could have a piece of paradise on Earth. I think I did pretty good. I think we managed well. We have our heaven on earth. We have it in each other.

A vintage's touch: Arthur was a big brother.

 Arthur never truly spoke with Tommy about one of his deepest fears. He couldn’t tell his brother about the nights spent drinking himself to sleep, smoking until his lips parched up, or using drugs as a way to escape the Fresh hell he was going through.  He never got to sit and tell his younger brother how guilty he felt for Grace’s death. He loved this woman like a sister and after her death, he still believed it was his fault. That he didn’t protect her enough.  Arthur never got to talk about the guilt he felt about John’s death and the desire to trade places with the best of them all. He let Esmee take John’s kids. He didn’t even fight for them and never tried to visit or reach them.  Arthur felt guilty about a lot of things, even his drug and alcohol intake, even his failing marriage with Lydia. Even the fact he was a useless elder brother.  He felt like a giant failure. He felt….

Worried about losing Mary, worried about being useless again, Arthur had resumed heavy drinking. He was barely in shape to do his work, his sister Ada, aunt Polly, and even Tommy all cared for him but he could see how tired of him they were. He could see how much of a burden he was. Still…. Still…. Mary was there. 

And Arthur was scared of losing her. He was scared of failing her (and Tommy) again. He was plagued with nightmares about the day he would see the distraught face of his brother. About his own heartbreak over losing another sister. About…. Oh god, he would not let it happen. He couldn’t let it happen.

Got (modern): Sensual

 Lift my skirts, pull aside my underwear, and make love to me as if you were going to war the next day. Kiss my neck, suck on my earlobe, whisper all the dirty thoughts that you had on your mind. I am yours. I am yours, always. 

Truth be told, I have never known what it felt like to feel desire for someone. I never knew that it could be good, to be touched, to be wanted, to make love. But I discovered it with the love of my life, Jaime Lannister. And now that I have tasted it, there is no way I could go back to a world where I didn't have that. I want, I need, I crave, and I take. 

So, lift my skirts up, bend me forward to the nearest surface, and pull on my hair. Make me feel the might of years of pent-up frustration. Make me scream your name, my love. Make me call for the gods. Make me rediscover myself with you and let us embrace each other and become one.  

Doya: Date night part 2: The vintage cars

 Doya: Date night part 2: The vintage cars

"Yup, that's us! he still doesn't like selfies but he promised and since he won that freaking paintball game, he also won a week of free cleaning from me. So he can indulge a little bit of self-love right? How did that vintage cars exhibition go? perfect as you can imagine. I was so nervous, like the fuck would I do if it didn't work fine? owner was a victim I saved from a monster, some months ago so he gratefully accepted to let Dean drive his old cars. I didn't get to drive because I wanted to film it. I filmed the cars, I went inside with Dean and filmed him driving a  little bit and captured his very emotions. He felt like a kid in a candy store. his eyes were filled with stars and excitment and his smile, oh his beautiful smile. I felt my heart race, like a bitch. it hurt even because I couldn't contain my happiness. that was the Dean I wanted to see. Happy, relaxed, enjoying things he loved to do that didn't involve killing or hunting.

I arranged for Sam to take any case that would come up so Dean and I would have our special moment. It was the an anniversary date, my one year with the winchesters actually. I didn't want to turn this event into something more even though I could feel my heart wishing I could. but what more? there was nothing more. he didn't see me the way I did, didn't need more from me than what I gave him. I know.. I know it all too well that's why I am fighting my emotions right now. I kissed his lips, a little more enthusiastically than usual. I looked at him a lot more lovingly than usual but he didn't notice, did he?  he'd freak out if he knew.. I'd freak out if I admitted it, so I won't admit it. never! I'd die with my feelings in my heart, if my poker face game could be a lot better though. 

Because, I barely held myself back and nearly told him he was going to have a gun at dinner. a vintage Smith and Wesson to go along with his weapon collection. I had to look out and spend a shit ton of money to get my hands on it, but I did. I wanted to. it was for him. Sam had his present already, a book of African spells that would do wonders with some of the monsters that existed in America and Sam got a skype convo with me too. it was enough I thought because.. Sam was more of a brother to me than anything else right? I just wanted to let him know I cared about him and was grateful for him in my life. it was simple with Sam, easier...with Dean...I knew deep down saying "I love you" or "love you"" was different than with Sam. the meaning was different. I didn't love him like a brother, we wouldn't have had sex if that was the case right?  I loved him.. differently.

I twitched nervously on the chair of the last car we rode together because I knew that  soon after we'd have dinner. Aside from the gun I knew he would love, I did crafted something for him. It was sculpted in wood, a heart and two sticks piercing through it. He doesn't know what it is, but it's an enchanted item, a protective trinket if you prefer. one like a tattoo or a special artifact. this heart shaped pendant, to be efficient, has to be sculpted by the hand of someone feeling genuine love for you. -it doesn't have to be romantic love. a mother could do one to her kid, a brother to his siblings but usually it was a gift lovers gave each other.- I refused to acknowledge how I felt when I was sculpting it and even less now that I wanted to give it to him but he had to get it right? he had to get it. it only protects from the spells that mess around with the mind, as in.. he would never be forced to forget about who he is. memory loss would not work and possession if successful would never truly consumme him. he would always find his way back, always keep a piecce of himself. it wasn't much but it was enough.

He saw I wasn't feeling well, so in between kisses he cupped my cheek and pushed my face up so I would look at him. "What's wrong?" he would ask, but I would just shake my head and say nothing was wrong and I couldn't wait to take him out to dinner. see, I was treating him well. I was taking him out on a date and I am not sure he realized I was actually wooing him out. I wanted him to feel okay. I wanted him to feel well. I wanted him.....I wanted to give myself some strength for the real main event. dinner. fancy dinner with canddles and shit. fancy dinner where I'd get to wear a killer dress and make myself pretty. fancy dinner where I would let him know without telling him, just how much he was the center of my universe. I was scared and he felt it but I had fun because he had some and because we rode some nice cars eh!  I thought he wouldn't like that day, buthe held my hand while we were changing cars, this time leaving the exhibition after we thanked the owner, to go back to Baby. he held my fucking hand and I looked up to his face. "It was great Oya." 

"YOu liked it?"

"You bet I did. Have you seen all the beauties that guy had?"

"I have." I said in a chuckle before he intwined his fingers with mine. I stopped and looked up to his face again, unsure of what that mean but I knew it all was in my head. 

"You have no reason to be this nervous Oya." He said in a chuckle. "you look as if I was going to kill you. Relax."

"MMmmhhh the best is yet to come. I can't fuck this one up. I was a homerun!" I said before he pulled me against his frame and kissed me again. He had to bend forward to reach my lips and since I was pressed against the car, he didn't mind. both hands were on each side of me holding Baby while he deepened the kiss. I closed my eyes for a second and then opened them again and grinned. "What was that for?"

"Your husbando is very happy with how things turned out. I think he's hungry and wouldn't mind dinner."

"Okay. but first we freshen up, so let's go back to the motel and get ready for the night 'kay?"

He sniffed his clothes and shrugged his shoulders. whatever floated my boat right? 

But I was wondering what he had in mind and if he understood...just how much I was willing to give so he could be happy, even if that didn't last long. 

Even for a second. 

(TBC) 

Klasma: Headcanon her curves.

  Headcanon: Her curves

Nëela had never felt bad about her curves, not one bit. Over the centuries, she's had people either fawning over her curves or trying to police her. It didn't matter to the witch. It doesn't now and it never will. She dresses as she pleases, usually she would have a classic and timeless look on her but there were days she would wear the most clingy pair of jeans she can find. Nëela is a menace, a woman who attracts people with her timeless beauty and her sensational curves. Watch out!

Doya: We don't like the beach

 "We don't like the beach, but I can tell you that if we absolutely have to go to the beach, I would get carried away by Dean exactly as he does when we're in the bunker.

The truth is... it was my birthday not so long ago and I just allowed myself to marvel at the chance I have. I feel lucky, you know? Through darkness and death, I managed to have my own little slice of apple pie life. I managed to have my little piece of heaven on Earth and I got it because of Dean, because of Sam and because of Castiel. 

They filled the void in my heart, gave me a sense of belonging and they became my family so effortlessly that I wonder if I wasn't smitten from the moment we met. It doesn't matter, I'm theirs and they're mine and nothing and no one can get in between us. Still.... I feel lucky. I feel lucky because I found Love when I thought there was nothing but Death awaiting for me. I feel lucky because I am happy. At long last."

Elpis: "I am the main entertainer."

(Elpis)

"This reality  is a show and I am the main entertainer. Be prepared for an adventure where love clashes with ambition, where revenge is the main leitmotiv. Be prepared for the princess to turn into a queen, for the Light to flirt with Darkness and for the end to come. You won't be the same when it's all done. I won't be either.

Welcome!"

Doya: "The work is always on our minds."

 (Oya)

"In our line of work, we can't really forget what we do, what our next case would be and how shitty life was for us. There are days I do forget. There are days I like waking up because I know he will be next to me. I know he would be safe and would tease me and I'll get flustered and petty. He doesn't know just how much I love waking up to him. He does get that I like his company though. I mean, he calls me shorty And gets away with it."

Doya: Oya and Sam

 Oya and Sam :

Oya's low-key love for Comic books had Sam thinking of a nice present he could bring her home. Sam wasn't big on presents, it wasn't something he was used to doing but Oya took the habit to bring them something from the places she visited. She usually opted for ugly shirts and aprons they never wore but from time to time she would come home with something she spent time looking for. Something cool like a rare weapon or a book of the spell. The case he worked on with Dean, involved a comic book nerd who got haunted by the spirit of a spiteful comic book artist. Oya was a big comic nerd, so when he realized that he did save another big nerd who offered him one of the most expansive items of his collection (an original x-men print), he didn't say no. He took it and came back to Oya with his present.

Of course, he chose to go to /her/ room rather than Dean's -she shared with- and placed the comic book on the bed for her to find. -all nicely wrapped up and protected by a plastic film by the previous owner- He took the time to sit and look around him, at Oya's space. Save for one picture of the three of them, her personal space was rather bland. There was nothing, not even her weapons -because she kept them in bags she hid under her bed- like there was in his older brother's room. Her room was spotless for she cleaned up every week but lacking a personal touch. Sam ran his fingers through his chocolate mane and left her bedroom. The picture was a new detail, something she added after nearly a year spent with them and he noticed the change.

The fact she put it on display, despite the emptiness of the place suggested that Oya felt home. She had to since she did share Dean's bedroom. Sam only assumed that she put some of her clothes and shoes there, maybe her toothbrush, maybe some weapons she kept in a bag under the bed like in her room. He never really entered Dean's room since Oya moved in there, save for the occasional talk with Dean, but he knew he wasn't too far off. Oya wasn't home, she was working a case on her own but he was smiling at the idea of her finding her present. She would scream like she always did when excited, she would probably try and hug him to thank him and he would feel all types of ways because of her.. All types of happy, because of her. All types of alive...

Because of her.

DOYA: Oya and Castiel

 Oya and Castiel :

Castiel and I started on the wrong foot, the wrong kind. Part of it was due to my deep hatred of angels. I couldn't fathom the idea that Castiel was different from those celestials. It couldn't be true. I hated the fact Dean and Sam were close to him, I judged him before even knowing him but he didn't let me. We butted heads so many times at the beginning, especially when I wasn't feeling « home » yet. It was ugly between the two of us, mostly because...I was prejudiced against Castiel. After all, Angels were deceivers to me, they still are. They drape themselves in this holier-than-thou attitude when they are nothing but a bunch of liars and hypocrites.

They are nothing but monsters who would pretend they care about mankind when they absolutely don't give a fuck about us. They don't give a fuck about humans, they'd rather see us dead but because their precious God made humans their responsibilities, then they have to watch on us and protect us. We were taught to believe that angels would guard us, protect us... but where were they when my entire family was slaughtered because of a monster? Where are they when hundreds of people are being killed by monsters? Where are they when this world is cruel and unfair? When innocents die and criminals live? Where were they when my dad had cancer and died in front of me? Where were they? Where was their comfort when I most needed it? NOWHERE! It was nowhere!

I prayed and prayed and nobody answered my cries for help! Nobody guided me or helped me mourn their deaths! NOBODY! So yeah, I didn't like Castiel because of his brothers and sisters but we managed to get along just fine. I chose to get to know him and I am glad I did. Castiel is just as fucked up as we all are. Dean and Sam, Castiel and I are broken ladders trying to support one another. We're broken, that's... that's true. Him more than anyone I came to know. We talked in depths about our regrets and what we messed up. We shared our thoughts about our guilt and how we were trying to fix things or at least make amends for our fault. He gets me and I get him. We both feel guilty about things we had control over and things we don't. We take the blame, we carry the guilt and sometimes, we do tend to wallow in it and push away those who care about us. He understands why at the beginning, I tried to run away. He understands the fact I felt lost, confused and like I didn't belong. He understands my need to protect Sam and Dean and keep them together....even if that means I shall die for that. He understands... because he would have done the same.

Our relationship got better to the point that we joke around one another. Do we fully understand each other? I doubt so. His whole stoic attitude sometimes gets on my nerves but it's also part of..who he is and why he gets along so well with the other two. I've never seen people so emotionally constipated. I know, I know, I am not the poster child for being open but I can more easily talk about how I feel... now, do I? I guess. I mean, I keep saying that I am open about how I feel but this is not true at all.. this is not true because I refuse to think deeply about my feelings for Dean. I'm very okay with how things are and I can't possibly want more than that. We're good and it's all I could have asked for. I like Dean... I like him a lot. I like his presence by my side. I like spending time with him, I like when we sleep together and when we have sex together and when we work cases together. Would I say it out loud? You will never catch me do that. So, does that make me someone emotionally constipated? Probably. Probably...

New profile: Calypso (Siren)

Calypso Fisher (Siren OC)

I wanted a siren OC :) 

XXXX XXXX

Main Faceclaim: TBD

Other FC: Cindy Mahlangu

Real Name: Calypso

Nicknames: Cali, Cal.

Age: 1000+, her true age is unknown, even she doesn't remember how old she is.

Height: In human form: 175 cm, As a fully transformed siren: 3.25 m

Weight: In human form: 75 kgs. As a fully transformed siren: N/A (she's heavier than you think)

Special features: She has gills on her neck in both siren and human form. However, her glamour spell makes it impossible for humans to see.

Physical appearance: 

As a human: 

Calypso is a gorgeous and voluptuous woman with flawless skin. Her hair is huge, and wavy that teased the small of her back. She has beautiful brown eyes shaped like almonds. Her lips are plump and soft and when she smiles there are dimples on her cheeks.

As a Siren: 

She has a long blue tail, with gold and black highlights. Her hair is longer and bigger. her teeth are sharper and her nails are longer as well. 

Sexual orientation: Bisexual

Alignment: Neutral

Specie:  Siren

Occupation: Florist.

Abilities: 

Enhanced Attributes: Have all attributes (senses, balance, speed, durability, strength) enhanced.

Shapeshifter: She can turn into a human woman or a fully transformed siren at will.

Enchanted allure: She can manipulate how others perceive her. Hence she can hide her gills.

Siren Song: It is an ability that only belongs to sirens and can be used for different goals:

Beacon Emission: Works like a sonar and allows other sirens to find her wherever she is.

Death Sound: Could kill anyone who is too close to her. It requires a lot of strength.

Hypnosis/Mind Control: She can subjugate any creature with her voice to do her bidding. It also can cause Anger, insanity, and paralysis in her target.

Internal Rupturing: Her cries impact the physiology of her targets and could injure them.

Musical Spell Casting: She does magic through singing.

Supernatural Beauty: Like all Sirens, she is incredibly beautiful.

Amphibious Transformation - Merfolk are able to take on an ordinary human appearance through a painful metamorphosis to blend in with modern society and avoid being detected for varying lengths of time. Merfolk who gained legs and later went back into the water went through a painful transformation process. Their teeth become dagger-like and their skin turns into scales of various flamboyant colors. Their hands become talons and a dorsal fin emerges from their backs. Their legs fuse together to form a scaly fishtail. Merfolk can only transform in ocean water. When they transform into their human-like forms, they shed their scaly fishtails

Aquatic Habitation - Sirens can survive and adapt to underwater environments such as high water pressure and extreme water temperatures.

Speed Swimming - A Siren's powerful and streamlined tail and huge flukes can propel them through the roughest waters with incredible speed, grace, and agility with minimal restrictions to water resistance. Like a dolphin, their fins can propel them high out of the water.

Regeneration - Sirens possess greater regenerative capabilities than those of humans. They heal quickly from non-fatal injuries within a short period.

Immortality:  Calypso's Lifespan/Immune System is so strong that she cannot die of "Old Age", Poisoning, or Disease.

Accelerated Regeneration: Can heal from any form of damage unless it's life-threatening (decapitation for example)

Skills: 

Multilingualism: She is well-versed in several languages. 

Weaknesses/Crippling fears:

Mortality: Although Cal is an incredible siren, she is still susceptible to dying via injuries.

Family:

 Mother: Disappeared when she was a baby - presumed dead.

 Father:  Disappeared when she was a baby - presumed dead.

Universe:   TBD

Status:  Alive. Active.

Personality:

Cal is a kind but secretive and aloof person. She has run away from the Kingdom to ensure her safety and with the help of friends. She is very careful but her kindness shows up whether she wants it or not. Cal is brave and she becomes attached to the people of the small sea town she settled in and considers them family. However, she rarely lets people get close to her because she's afraid they will discover her true nature. Hence she's not intimate with people but has forged strong friendships. 

Fictional Character Biography: 

Calypso left the Ocean and sought refuge on Earth after someone tried to kill her. She doesn't understand why people are coming for her but rumours have it that she's the rightful heir to the throne.

HoTD: "He couldn't let go."

  HoTD: "He couldn't let go."

// I couldn't take them off of my mind. So here you are, a very spicy and bittersweet moment between these two true lovers.

xxxxxxx

" I might be losing sight, I can still hear you clearly." -Aemond snarled as he failed to leave the room unnoticed. Ceryse was sitting on the bed, her luscious white locks crowned her face as she turned her head to look in his direction-

Moments earlier, he had snuck into her chambers for a long overdue reunion. As the war between the Greens and the Blacks had entered its most barbaric phase, the prince managed to find Ceryse and take her back to the Red Keep. He was afraid he could lose her, once again, to Daemon Targaryen. Aemond despised his uncle. He considered him to be responsible for the rift within the family and the slow agony of his mother. He considered him to be responsible for the torments of Ceryse whose father Daemon killed without any remorse. Perhaps what enraged him the most was the fact Daemon took Ceryse's innocence. It was to be expected from a man like him, to prey on a vulnerable grieving daughter and try and make her his. She seemed to have changed her opinion on the man, but Aemond believed it was her years spent in captivity - according to him- that led her to be more forgiving than she was before. 

He was afraid he could lose her. Perhaps this prompted him to desperately make love to her in a bid to keep her with him. She was betrothed to his grandsire, Otto Hightower, and thus despite Aemond's suggestion to take her as his wife. That decision felt like a slap in the face of the tall Targaryen who felt trapped in his current situation. He wasn't king despite being more fitted for the task, he killed his nephew in an accident, thus starting the war between the Blacks and the Greens and now, the only solace he could find in marrying Ceryse had been taken away from him by his grandsire, and her maidenhood by his sworn enemy. So yes, Aemond was passionate, in a hurry even as he wanted to make her remember him. His hips were thrusting forward, making sure he was buried deep inside her with each stroke. He was holding her legs with his powerful arms, keeping them spread while his fingers were digging into her supple flesh. She loved when he was passionate and when he let her know without a word that he was ready to give her the whole universe if she asked him to. Her fingers were holding onto his shoulders, scratching the skin there as he hit a sensitive spot inside her. A growl, a moan and she opened her eyes to look at him. In the dead of the night, with such a dim light and her almost blind eyes, she couldn't see him very well but tried to.  He watched intently, studying every curve of her face, he listened to every sound he could elicit. He watched as she was sweating, her hair was stuck to her face, and sweat was beading on top of her beautiful skin. God, She was fucking gorgeous!

"I didn't mean to keep you up this late. I was thinking that leaving without a word would be better than arguing."

"Arguing? About Daemon? About what happened with him?" -She cocked her head to the side and furrowed her brows. "Are you mad at me, Aemond? I can feel the resentment in your tone."

"I am not angry at you, Ceryse. I am frustrated that we couldn't have our way. You would have been my wife, you should have been. Instead.."

"Instead Otto Hightower decided to claim me. My father has been rolling in his grave ever since. I am well aware of what happened, of what I did."

"Don't say it." -He didn't want to have this conversation. Not now, not when they were to be separated again. He would have to go to the battlefield and the gods willing, he would be able to come back to her.-

"I had sex with Daemon Targaryen!" -She cried out, sobbing at the echo of her own words. She felt ashamed of what had happened, and thus despite knowing damn well the reasons that led to this moment.-

"Don't say more!"

"I let the man who killed my father fuck me!" -She dropped her head and covered her face with both of her hands.- "I'm forced to marry the man who would steal his family heritage... who would bring the name Velaryon to the ground... I... All my father had ever wanted for me was to choose a husband I would love and have a nice life... And look at me now, look at us..."

 

He didn’t mind her nails on his skin, scratching so hard she drew blood to her fingers. He didn’t mind her loud and louder moans for they were music to his ears... He didn’t mind feeling her legs clench around his waist as he pounded into her sweet wet core. Aemond wanted to speak to her, tell her how beautiful she was and how lost he would be if she left again. He had words, plenty of words that died at the back of his throat. He couldn’t speak, not when he was so deep into her warm folds.  their kiss spoke for them. It was ferocious, delirious, a battle of wills. They were so into it that he forgot to stop and breathe. He wanted to devour her, taste her, and become one even more. his hips bucked harder and her breasts jiggled underneath me while our kiss strangled our moans. 

Aemond had wanted to be with Ceryse for so long now, liking the girl so much that he even considered straying away from his infamous focus to dote on her -in his own way-. They understood each other, always had and she had never felt intimidated by him. not even once. But they weren't allowed to be together. He fucked her with urgency, far differently than usual and Ceryse responded in the same manner given her frantic hip thrusts matching his. Words failed him.  Her screams, however, encouraged him, mostly because he knew she wasn’t much of a screamer. She was losing control. Her folds were massaging his cock, milking it softly, and taking him straight to the edge. He knew he would cum. It only was a matter of minutes. The prince felt her feet against his calves and he bucked so hard that the bed cracked. He pushed Ceryse upwards, against the bed headrest and stopped there.

 "What do you want me to say, Ceryse? What do you want me to do? I can't defy my Grandsire, especially since you've asked for his help and you agreed to give him anything he wanted. You agreed to this marriage. You agreed and I.. it kills me that you did! It kills me to come here, sneaking into your chambers like some petty thief, to steal moments together."

"I know... I know... I'm not asking you to defy your Grandsire. I'm not asking you to defy...It's just... I'm confused that's all. I don't know... I thought I hated Daemon and a part of me because he killed my father. I thought I could accept anything, but I didn't want to marry Otto Hightower. And now... now.. I'm living the life my father would not have wanted for me. I'm just property.' -Aemond crossed the distance between the two of them and gently pulled her into a tight hug.-

He gasped, struggling to take his breath back. She was already close to the edge, just a nudge from him and she would also cum. He had to make her cum first. He had to make her surrender completely. Aemond needed to gather his strength for a minute. The prince felt sweat drop onto her chest, while his hair was soaked with it and stuck to his forehead, neck, and shoulders. She didn’t mind. Her soft and gracile hands cupped his cheeks and she stroked them. Her eyes, oh, those eyes… were staring at him as if there was a fire in them. It all started with her gaze anyway. The way she set her eyes on him, literally inviting him to her bed. How could he say no? That jolt of pleasure went down his spine as he pressed my lips to hers in a searing kiss. Their first. He wasn’t himself anymore but an animal, a sex-driven and love-lusting animal. He was completely hers. Ceryse simply caught her breath back and cupped both his cheeks in a soft embrace.

 « I love you. » Was all she said. It was a quiet one. An assertive one. I guess a reminder of her feelings for him. They would never wane off, they would never end. They were here to stay. She loved him and he loved her. She spoke for them because words were still stuck at the back of his throat. All he could do was put their foreheads against the other and nod quietly. So Aemond resumed fucking her, picking up a slow and hard pace, hitting all the right spots inside her. He could feel her quivering pussy reaching its near completion. She was just an inch away from climaxing so he wrapped his hand around her throat, delicately so she wouldn't choke. The prince encouraged her. his voice, gruff and low was now whispering to her ear, urging her to cum for him and she obliged. 

He felt the familiar squeeze and the warm eruption of her love juices. He felt her give in to me, chest jutted towards his, back arched, and feet on a frenzy. The prince watched her shut her eyes and moan loudly while her hands were holding onto him for dear life. She was beautiful, so beautiful when she came that he couldn’t help but thrust harder, riding her orgasm while about to reach his. She said his name, several times and then, just when Aemond least expected, stared at him with so much intensity that he came undone and inside her. He gave her his love that night. he gave her everything and she took it without hesitation. She took him in, all of him, and he was lost into her, all of her.

"I love you, Ceryse. This is our truth. We love each other and we'll find a way out of this. I promise."

Doya: sometimes your words cut deep.

 "Sometimes your words cut deep. They hurt because you said them with intent. I understand that sometimes you are lost and you don't know how to handle your emotions. I understand that you're hurt and as the saying goes, hurt people hurt people. Still... your words cut deep and I'm left flaggerbasted and hurt too. I'm left with a sour taste in my mouth and venom at the tip of my tongue. Then I remember, I remember you. I remember us. I remember what we've been through and why you are how you are. So I give you space instead of fueling your self-loathing self-destructive behaviour. I leave and let you cool down or perhaps, I need a place where I can let my emotions explode, the tears roll down my cheeks, the frustration erupt from my heart. Sometimes, your words cut deep and I can't come back from them."

GoT: the first day of a new life.

 "Today is the first day of a new life. A life where I get to decide for myself, a day where I can finally bask in this long-desired freedom. Today is the first day of the rest of my life, a life I will share with you, Jaime. I couldn't be happier. I couldn't feel more priviledge than today, because I get to share my life with you. Bless the seven gods, old and new."

Klasma: There is a melancholy inside of her.

 There is a melancholy inside of her, one that very few were aware of. Perhaps no one could see it and the witch would have to deal with her own emotions by herself. Perhaps she would be able to find some solace somewhere.  Until then, she would keep a smile on her face and try and hide as much as possible in how much pain she truly is, to the delight of her curse, to the delight of her late coven.