Doya: pancakes

// Picture courtesy of my beloved Dean <3 I love these two so much though. :o eheh it's right before the next case so they're in a good mood.

She cupped both his cheeks and chuckled with him. Dean was on top of her, both arms on the mattress for support. Oya had just woken up, to a smiling Dean who knew she would be happy to hear he had made fresh pancakes for her.

"You wouldn't have to pester for them then."

"I wouldn't have to pester for them, indeed." She chuckled and pecked his lips before her hands gently ran over his shoulders and arms. her hazel eyes were still sleepy but they slowly started to wake up as she stared at his beautiful face.

Was it one of these mornings when the world had stopped moving and time was frozen? there was nothing but them in her world and the warmth in her heart that slowly washed through her body. Nothing but happiness this morning, and laughter, and silence. she smiled again and stroked his cheek with the back of her hand. At this moment, Oya was not worried, she didn't have the familiar crease on her forehead as her head was filled with thoughts and questions. There was the only certainty. The certainty that Dean was with her this morning and she wasn't alone. The certainty that he would be there tomorrow and she would wake up with him. The certainty that he was making her happy, despite the bruises and the pain, the loss, and death, he was making her happy. How could she verbalize her emotions? how could she say with her own words that he was her world? That she couldn't imagine waking up to a life without him? How could she make him know he made her feel alive again? that he brought back a dried-out heart into health just by being there? she couldn't. say a word, but she was hoping her smiles and those hands on his cheeks would speak for her. the ebony hunter's gaze became soft, softer than it had ever been which made Dean pause for a minute and just look at her. There it was, the connection she was looking for a while ago. there it was. He was now focused on her, his green eyes were scanning her face, noticing the little details he loved about her like the plumpness of her lips, the shape of her nose, the perfect bright hazel eyes of hers, but this time, he noticed the way she was looking at him. He recognized those gazes, what they meant and knew she was silently telling him that he meant the world to her. She proved it, countless times that she was willing to do anything for him. She sighed and gently wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him against her, into a soft hug.

"Thank you."

"What for, O?"

"Everything," she whispered as she kissed his shoulder and kept him in a tighter embrace.

Doya : Gifts

Doya : Gifts 

Oya ran her hand through her thick black locks and twirled some around her forefinger. She was sitting on the chair and was watching Dean unpack a couple of weapons he brought back from her arms dealer. She tilted her head to the side and watched him slowly pulled the set of knives off of the briefcase he carried back to the bunker. She smiled at the sheer size of these, the blades were thick, as thick as a butcher's knife and she was wondering what use she could make of these. Her arms dealer knew her taste, and he knew she was more into knives than guns. The last time she went to him, she asked for homemade knives she could use against enemies with thicker skin. Could that be it? Dean grinned and examined the two beautiful blades carefully before he handed one to Oya.

« This one is for you. »

« I love Alfredo! He always knows what I'm looking for!  Give me those babies! » She said as she grabbed the knives and started to look at them.

« He also said you got a gun for me? A custom gun? » He asked while checking the briefcase and finding the said gun in the middle of it. Oya nodded and then looked up to his face.

« I've been thinking of this design for a while now. I wanted a weapon that could be easy to handle, not too big and yet still powerful. He managed to work a gun that is lighter than a magnum but as powerful as a magnum. »

« Power and manageability uh? » He grabbed the gun and started to look at it. It was lighter than an actual magnum, easy to play with, comfortable in the hand. Dean was genuinely surprised and twirled the empty gun in his hand before he lifted a brow. « How about the ammo? »

« It has its own ammo but magnums can work too. » She said, still staring at her knives. He enjoyed when Oya was focused on a weapon. Her hazel eyes lit up as she was talking about them, thinking of making easier weapons to work with or special weapons for special monsters they could hunt.

She met Alfredo when she arrived a couple years ago. He instantly recognized a mind as creative as his own and they started to work together. They made several knives for her and a few guns she was still using to this day but most of the time, he was her ammo supplier and the one to repair the guns her father gave her on his deathbed. They were close enough for her to just order an item with a few words and he would know if it was for her or for someone else, like the gun she ordered for Dean. He would often ask how she was doing and would always offer a piece of advice. Dean grinned as he inspected the gun and pointed it at the wall.

« I asked him to make it for you. Given the monsters we've been hunting lately, it was about time you upgraded your gear. » She teased him with a smile and put the knife on the table. How does it feel? » She asked as she stood up and walked closer to him. Dean grinned, still engrossed by the gun he was holding.

« It's awesome ! » -he watched as her short frame was standing in front of him and put the gun away so he could wrap his arms around her waist. « Thank you for this. »

« Don't mention it, Kid. » She chuckled and wrapped her arms around his neck. She pecked his lips and grinned. « I'm glad you like the Gun. I think that there is something else in the briefcase. »

« What makes you think that? » He asked bemused, with a smirk on his lips as he pressed his lips to hers firmly.

« You would have put the briefcase on the table instead of at your feet. So you're either hiding something from me OR... you're keeping the best for the end. Which is which? » She lifted a brow and grinned at Dean who had her sit on his lap.

« Close your eyes. » -It was a surprise. Oya's face lit up as she didn't expect there would be a surprise for her. She expected Alfredo to have manufactured something for her and eventually, he had told Dean about it so she shut her eyes tight put her hands on her face to prevent herself from cheating. She heard the sound of the briefcase being placed on the table and the click of it being open. « Now open your eyes. » -He gently commanded, making the hunter open her eyes.-

There was a knife, engraved with Oya's full name and a date. She furrrowed her brows and let her fingers run over the engraved words. The date meant something to them, but she didn't remember just yet. Cussing at herself for her bad memory, Oya grabbed the pocket knife and gently manipulated it. Just as she paid attention to the delicate design of the handle, it suddenly hit her. The date was the date she met Dean for the first time. It was a simple gift, but one that brought tears to her eyes.

« Dean...... I just... » She looked at him and pressed her lips to his before she turned around and played with her knife. It was easy to manipulate, the blade could withdraw within the knife and it was reinforced. Perfect for close combat and emergencies. There also was a set for it to be a necklace and she ended up crying a single tear. « Fuck... »

« It's a bitchin gift isn't it? » Dean said, chuckling as he wiped the tear-off of her face. « Come on. It's not as good as your ugly aprons. »

« You hate those aprons. » she chuckled and nodded at him. « It's a bitchin' gift! Thank you. »

« Always. A bitchin' gift for my favorite bitch. » He teased her, using their nicknames in an endearing way.

« A  bitchin' gift from my favorite dickhead. » she replied, pressing another urgent kiss to his lips.

A bitchin' gift indeed.

GOT: Daenerys x Bäahal: Talk to me

Daenerys x Bäahal: Talk to me

Daenerys fingers were busy brushing Bäahal's hair. For once she was the one helping and not the one being served. Bäahal's hair was easy on the brush, so it always was a pleasure to unknot them. The march to King's Landing was giving them less and less time to bond and with Bäahal withdrawing herself more and more it became a necessity for the two of them to rekindle their relationship. Daenerys knew her sister was loyal, devoted even but she didn't want her to erase her own needs for her sake. She needed to look after her, or at least try to. The silver Queen wasn't very used to it, to have to look after someone. She had always been looked after, by her brother, by her husband, by her followers. Now, she had a sister and one who needed attention and affection. In the midst of fire and in between two wars, it relieved the queen to have someone else to focus on than herself.

They got along better, over the months spent together. Her children accepted the princess and it brought them together. Two dragon riders, someone who could understand Daenerys and what she went through, the physical and psychological abuse she was a victim of, the desire to take her destiny into her own hands, the strong sense of revenge that drove her, Bäahal could understand and she did. Daenerys didn't have to justify her thirst for the throne, Bäahal felt it in her bones. She didn't have to justify her harsh decisions, Bäahal took some of her own and she certainly didn't have to justify the blood on her hands because her sister had some too. She was thankful Bäahal convinced her to trust Jon because ever since she did, she discovered love again. She discovered an honest and good man, who was loyal, morally-driven and a natural leader. She discovered her heart wasn't as dry as she thought it was and love could still flood into it. She was thankful Bäahal confided in her about her past, her bond to Viserion and allowed them to mourn together the loss of her son. She was worried, however, about Bäahal's clear withdrawal ever since Lord Jaime left Winterfell.

It was delicate to talk about these things, especially since Love meddled with war. Bäahal already assured her that nothing would come in her way to the throne and Daenerys understood that her sister would shove whatever feeling she had deep down her heart and not even look at it twice. It didn't sit well with her, it didn't sit well with the queen to see her sister plaster a mask of indifference on her face while deep down she was breaking down. But it was war and like Lord Tyrion said War was not kind. War wrecked everything, especially feelings. War could destroy a soul. As she caught sadness in the eyes of her sister, she wrapped her arms around her shoulders and pulled her into a tight hug.

« Please, Bäahal, rest assured that I don't want to hurt you. I never want to. »

« I know, Dany. I know. » She said, leaning against her shoulder while her hand touched the crossed hands above her heart. « This is soon over. You will soon sit on the throne. Let's think of this, of the aftermath of the war. »

« I can't help but feel guilty. Me sitting on the throne is not the end of everything. It's supposed to be a beginning. »

« I know...It will be. » She smiled at her and looked at the reflection. « I am not afraid of tomorrow and while I'm confident I would survive this war, I still have to tell you that I am grateful we met and you let me in your life. I.....learned how to accept our name. I learned to accept my past and my origins. I realized I wanted to live and I will live. » She smiled softly and looked at the mirror. « I love you. Dany. I love you very much and your happiness makes mine. Your success is mine and tomorrow we will be victorious. »

« Bäahal...... I. I love you too. » Daenerys hugged her tighter and closed her eyes. « And because I love you, I have to make sure you're happy too. Please, don't sacrifice your happiness for mine. Do not forget your own needs because you want me to be happy... »

« Are you saying this because... »

« When the war is over, we will have to talk. We will have to sit and talk as honestly as possible. You're hiding from me and I can tell. I do not know what hurts you this much, but please..talk to me when the war is over. »

« I will... »

Would she?

GOT : Be yourself

Jaime and Bäahal : Be yourself

The princess unbraided her hair, meticulously removed the knots while she stared at her reflection on the mirror. Tomorrow would be the day she would slip into her armor, carry her valerian steel sword and be ready to fight for her queen. Tomorrow would be the day Cersei would die. Her face twitched, her lips trembled and she furrowed her brows as she didn't want to think of what it implied. Tomorrow, Lord Jaime would die too. If not physically, his soul would join Cersei's when she would be killed. After countless conversations, she had with Lord Tyrion, Missandei and even Jon, shedding a tear today would be indecent and was not welcomed. She bid him farewell, they even kissed on that last day spent together. It was time to put him away, push the memory down into her heart, bury her emotions and ignore how it made her feel. It was time to truly say goodbye and focus on what was important: Her sister and the throne.

It was within their grasp, just a moment away and soon the trumpets of victory would be blown and Daenerys would sit on the throne. Mission accomplished, now the real hard work would begin. Missandei already decided for herself, what she wanted to do with her life. A life away from King's Landing, a life of her own spent with the person she chose to live with: Torgo Nuhdo. Jon already decided how he intended to lead his life, to serve his beloved queen the best he could, but where he was the most comfortable...Lord Tyrion would serve her well...what about Bäahal? What did she want? She let her hand touch her cheek, stroke the soft skin of hers before it went down to her lips. She could still taste Lord Jaime's lips against hers, the gratitude he had for the way she saw him, the emotions she made him feel, the fact she treated him like another human being. She could still taste how it made /her/ feel. The tingle in her loins, the tears in her eyes.

Ah, tears... here they came again. Her heart was broken, how could it not  when Lord Jaime was going to die? She was dreading encountering him on the battlefield, but she already knew that it was the aftermath she wouldn't stomach. If the battle didn't kill him, then seeing Cersei's execution would surely. Could she watch it? Could she endure seeing him lose what made him /him/? Could she stay? She knew the answer to her questions, she couldn't and wouldn't want to stay. She would leave, run away, try and find more about herself. Answer his question after research of her own. He had always told her to be herself and that was what she would do, to honor his memory and her promise to him. She would find out who Bäahal truly is.

Jessica and Asma: Copycats

Jessica and Asma: Copycats

Asma ran her fingers through her pink locks, her hazel eyes set upon the waiting for clients at her parlor. While she loved her job, she could careless for the crow eaters who had an appointment with her today. All of them were long-haired slender brunettes with an attitude. None of them, however, had Jessica's class or even sense of self. They were copycats, look-alike airheads who didn't realize that they would never replace the Queen. Most of them didn't have any ambition, if not just have a couple of mean bikers fuck them around and show them around like trophy wives. Some of them, however, wanted the throne and they were speculating about whether or not they could replace Jessica. Tandy was one of them. Slim figure with a little curve on her, an intense blue gaze and long soft chocolate locks. She came in asking for a heart tattoo on her right hand's little finger, which Asma frowned upon. She straight-up refused to do it to her, claiming that she could have anything but a heart tattoo on a finger. They argued, but Asma dryly told her that she wouldn't be the next queen and that Jax hated copycats anyway. It was enough to make her back-off.

Copycats? Really? It is true that when the cat isn't there, mouses dance their asses off. Disgusting! Tandy changed her mind, asked for stylized hearts instead of on her pelvis. Good, get your coochie tattooed and stop playing pretend. Asma obliged her request, made sure she was half-listening to what the airhead was saying and it didn't disappoint. Word got out that Jessica hadn't visited Jax in Prison for a while. Did they know why? Of course, not. Did they speculate? Oh yeah, they did. For these girls, the queen was not doing her duty properly, so someone had to step in. Fucking idiots! Did you think that Jax was that type of guy? Because he wasn't getting pussy he would let anyone of you slide it in? Stupid girls...Stupid fucking girls! Jax and Jessica were more than this, they were more than sex, more than the satisfaction of the flesh, they were more than the basic idea of a couple those women had. They were the real deal, the ride or die type. They were partners, equals, and when Jax couldn't run his business, Jessica did. Working on these idiots was frustrating because it forced Asma to realize she was missing her sister. Her heart bled out...her heart bled out but she had to keep her composure and wait.

And wait.....

COPG patience

Patience :

What were a mere couple of years compared to the 2000 ones she already spent waiting? Elpis should know better and should be more patient, but how could she, when vengeance was within her reach? She had to learn how to wait and bid her time. She had a childish mindset when it came to having things she wanted. When the Sumerian gods disrespected her father, she avenged him by destroying said pantheon. When Pride was cheating on her, she threatened to leave him for a better suitor, so what could prevent her from pressing Superbia into avenging her? Elpis and Patience didn't mesh well after all, but she learned to take her time. Her punishment taught her to be patient, to wait until it was the right opportunity, the right vessel she could use to escape her prison and reach out to her beloved. She succeeded in being free but instead of an end, it was a beginning. What were a mere couple of years compared to the 2000 ones she spent locked up? What could it cost her to wait a little longer before she could bathe in the golden blood of her sister Ayasha? Pride knew she was dreaming of Liquid gold and he promised her she would soak her perfect skin with the blood and guts of her enemies. He promised the goddess her revenge and she trusted him to deliver...

And he would.

GoT: he kissed me

(GoT)

"it was just a kiss. nothing to make a fuss about. it was just lips pressed against lips, with little to no intensity to it. A moment spent away trying to forget about the tragedy to come. It shouldn't have sent shivers down my spine, or blood up to my cheeks. it shouldn't have filled my heart with desire, let alone emotions I can't decipher. The knight bid me farewell but by doing so, he left a print on my heart. A kiss... it was nothing but a kiss and yet, I felt swept off of my feet. I felt the strong urge for more, the desire to explore.

But I won't. I can't. tomorrow he's gone. tomorrow he'll return to his sister and I would be left alone with frustration as a companion. I would be left with the burning memory of his lips against mine, the warmth of his body pressed against mine and the smile that crept on his lips in between kisses. Is it so bad? there are worse ways to part ways. I should be sad tonight, I should feel desperate, and yet at this very moment, all I feel is a party in my heart. He kissed me. that's all that matters to me right now."