#after they were already born from a secret love affair ?????

[unreal]

My Name Is Kanaya Maryam

You Fucked My Wife

PREPARE TO DIE

[bunnis-monsters]

What about a princess bunny-hybrid! reader (chubby like always) that has a secret romantic affair with a wolf-hybrid knight?

Nothing too original lmao but.... Maybe NSFW involved, please?

NSFW

warning: dubcon, somno, breeding, pregnancy

You had always been taken care of with a tender hand, your wolf!hybrid knight never letting you feel alone or afraid for even a second.

He absolutely adored you, that was clear to anyone that watched him interact with you for more than a minute… but unfortunately for your poor knight, you were oblivious to his romantic affections.

That was until the day your knight went into rut. Usually, he locked himself away from the world, not wanting to harm anyone… especially you.

But this time he had been on guard duty, staying by your side constantly due to a recent assassination attempt.

So when he watched over you sleeping, defenseless body as he stroked his fat cock, knotting his hand, he couldn’t help but gently press his tip to your tongue that poked out of you mouth.

It was straight up sinful. Knights were supposed to protect the purity of their princess and make sure they remained untainted… but here he was, using your thighs to get off as you snoozed peacefully.

It wasn’t long before that wasn’t enough. Your knight watched you like a predator watched its prey.

But you weren’t afraid. Your fluffy bunny ears twitched happily every time you saw him. After all, the two of you had been close since childhood.

“H-hey, you sure this is okay?”

Your knight licked your neck, your bottom lifted in the air and cotton tail wagging furiously as his cock rubbed against your bunny cunt.

“Of course it is, princess… just… trust me okay..?”

He panted, his tail swaying as he pressed against your tight hole. “Be a good girl for me, I always take care of you, don’t I?”

That was the first time he sunk his cock into your pretty pussy, starting off your love affair.

You’d think as a knight he would already be protective enough, but it only increased tenfold now that the two of you were mates.

He was able to keep it a secret for a while, excusing the issue of scenting you by saying it was for protection, and mating you in secret.

It got a bit harder when your belly started to swell with his pups and all you wanted to do was nest and be mated.

“Mmm!!”

He sighed as you tugged on his shirt, your chubby cheeks puffed out. His hand immediately moved to rest on your swollen belly as he began to groom you.

“What is it, my princess?”

You only whined at him some more, pulling him to your nest. These days he had been spoiling you rotten, unable to leave his precious mate upset in the slightest.

“Wanna mate…”

Your fluffy bunny ears twitches as you tried to get into a position so he could mount you, but lying on your belly wasn’t an option.

He quickly grabbed you by the hips, laying you on your side. “Shh, shh, careful now, my princess… you’re carrying our pups, okay?”

The feeling of his fingers slipping into your fat cunt made your cotton tail wag furiously, and his own tail began to thump against the bed.

“That feels good, princess? Sweet girl getting all wet got me, huh?”

Being stretched out just enough for his cock to slip into you made your body shudder. If he could, your mate would keep you on his knot all day…

Soft whimpers left your lips as he tried to be gentle with you, the tight grip on his hips telling you how much he was restraining himself from pounding into your sweet pussy.

Your scent was so intense now that you were pregnant, he couldn’t help knotting you within minutes. If anyone knew how often he had the princess of their kingdom blubbering in pleasure as he bounces you on his knot, they’d be shocked.

His claw circled your swollen belly. In reality, he feared his pups may be persecuted once they were born due to him not being of royal blood…

“My princess… I love you more than anything, you know… but some people wouldn’t want us to be together.”

The fog keeping your mind fuzzy cleared at his words, and your eyes twitched nervously. “Why? I love you, you’re my mate…”

You were too innocent, unaware of the implications of being impregnated by a commoner like him.

“I am, my princess… but they want to take you away from me. They are beginning to become suspicious of your growing belly and our close relationship…”

When tears began to fall down your chubby cheeks, he cursed under his breath. He felt terrible for being so selfish, putting you in harms way because he wanted something he wasn’t supposed to have… you.

“N-no, I wanna stay with you! You’re all I know…”

As you cried and sniffled, he licked your cheek before pulling you closer to him.

“Shh, shh… oh my love, don’t you know I am your knight? No need for years, they can never take you away from me. I will fight for our love until my body gives out.”

He sat up, causing you to whine and reach for him. “My love, if you want us to stay together, we must leave before your pregnancy is uncovered.”

Your bunny ears flicked, and you looked up at him with your teary eyes. “Are you asking me to run away with you?”

He pulled you to your feet, helping you stand on your wobbly, post breeding session legs.

“Will you?”

You answered by clinging to him and butting your head against him affectionately. After scooping you up, he covered your soft cheeks in kisses before setting you on your bed.

“Sleep, my dear. I’ll take care of all of the preparations.”

With that, he tucked you in, leaving the room to prepare for your future together.

He would have you, and no one would get in the way of his love for his princess.

After all, a knight was supposed to protect his princess and make sure they remained happy.

And you were happy in his arms…

Part 2?

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @buckoothecow @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @midromiell @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree

[violetrainbow412-blog]

From hate to love… or something like that

Aegon II Targaryen x fem!reader

word count: 15.7k (sorrrryyyy)

warnings: arranged marriage, hate-to-love, mentions of rape, mentions of incest, mentions of suicidal thoughts, drinking alcohol, mommy issues, daddy issues, mentions of sex without love, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), porn with plot (but something cheap, tbh) and I probably forgot something but I think that makes it clear that this shit is not for minors, so MINORS DNI :)

A/N: I started this since the second season premiere started so if you find any canon-like scenes I completely promise it wasn't intentional. I also want to make it clear that you are responsible for what you read and if you don't like something please just let it go, that would be very kind of you!

And this doesn't make me team green at all, I'm a defender of the rightful queen to the death… it's just that her brother is too sexy to ignore 🫦

Enjoy!

taglist (who I thought might be interested): @barcelonaloverf1life @ilovequeen978

FIRST ACT: HATE

Finding a wife for Prince Aegon II was probably one of the most difficult tasks Alicent Hightower had to face.

The engagement with his sister Helaena had been broken after a more tempting offer for the princess, which would get them a permanent alliance with the Lannister house that they couldn’t refuse. Viserys himself had agreed to accept and the queen consort had no choice but to give her little daughter in marriage to a blonde lord. The problem was that her son was left without a fiancée.

Aemond didn't worry her, after all he was growing up quite quickly and she knew that he was more inclined to become a warrior than to fulfill his marital responsibilities. But Aegon, however, was a lost cause.

It was no secret that Alicent had always felt disappointed in her eldest son. He was careless, lazy, and a hopeless alcoholic, qualities that couldn’t be celebrated at all. Now that her beloved father had returned, the queen didn’t hesitate to consult him on the matter, hoping that the man had a solution for the problem that afflicted her, and together they analyzed what was the best option to unite the king's first-born son. Especially after, years ago, Rhaenyra and Daemon got married and moved to Dragonstone indefinitely.

“It must be someone we completely trust, someone who cannot dare to hurt us because they know that their blood is linked to ours.”

The Arryns were loyal to the future queen Rhaenyra and some of the houses south of Vale were too. The Westerlands was the richest section of the Seven Kingdoms and was already secured, so it seemed prudent to the king's hand to go for the next widest section: The Reach. The most formidable options within this area were the Hightower and the Tyrell. Obviously taking the first option would be a waste since the members of that house would support Aegon without complaint due to their kinship, so the decision was made with the direct heir of Highgarden.

King Viserys agreed to the idea without putting up many obstacles, since poppy milk clouded his judgment most of the time and also the affairs of his first son had never interested him much.

The union was sealed as soon as the deal was offered to Lyonel Tyrell, who was extremely happy to be able to assure his family a future with said marriage. It was thus that he gave you, his only daughter, to Prince Aegon II Targaryen.

And the second the boy saw you, he absolutely hated you.

He had come to the idea (very unpleasant, by the way) of marrying his younger sister and now that his mother was forcing him to marry a complete stranger, he couldn't be angrier. In a short time he would turn twenty and it seemed pathetic to him that at that point he would have to offer shows like those before the kingdom. Because the wedding wasn’t simple, of course, but thousands and thousands of guests were present at the banquet that Alicent forced the king to prepare, claiming by saying that he had done the same for Princess Rhaenyra's wedding.

“It is a pleasure to finally see each other, your grace. They have told me a lot about you”

You had said those precise words the first time you had met, when his mother organized a walk so that you could 'get to know each other better', although supervised by her own eyes that were behind you, making sure that her son didn’t commit any indecency. But no matter how sweetly you smiled and spoke them, Aegon could sense that you were lying.

There was hatred in your eyes and a clear resentment towards the life from which you were torn, as if it weren’t an honor to have the opportunity to marry the prince of the seven kingdoms. Your hypocritical words represented an insult to the boy and that is why he decided from the first moment that he would hate you deeply.

With your mere existence you would have deprived him of his freedom, his entertainment, his youth. He would be tied to you for future occasions, he would have to take you to all the events, secure your food, your clothes. share the same roof and pretend to be nice to you in the eyes of others. And, besides, he could have thought of a lot of candidates better than you, physically speaking. Your beauty was quite ordinary for his taste, as if he were looking at any painting; cheap and repetitive.

“I regret to admit that I am not so fortunate, Lady Tyrell. But I am happy for the union of our houses” he lied, in the same way that you had done.

And it was obvious that this didn’t go unnoticed by you, that you had the same critical eye as your recent fiancé but that you sought to maintain composure in the presence of your future mother-in-law.

On the wedding day Aegon had a good time only because he was able to drown himself in monumental quantities of liquor and because he was able to eat as much as he wanted of the exquisite banquet. He didn't even pay a bit of attention to how you looked in the wedding dress that the royal seamstresses had been in charge of making in record time, because when the time came he flattered you superficially and then ignored the matter. The ceremony kiss was the first you shared, and it was so fleeting and awkward that the prince felt disappointed. On the wedding night he was so drunk that he didn't even look at you.

You knew that the unfortunate day would come when you would have to carnally please the young man and the simple thought of being defiled in this way caused you terror and nausea in equal parts.

It was a stranger whom you had married, of whom the only thing you knew was his noble title and name.

In the days following your marriage, unfortunately or fortunately, Aegon didn’t even speak to you. You didn't have to share a room, so it was easier for him to completely ignore you while he went about his ways.

You had to admit that the only good thing about having taken this trip was the beautiful landscapes that King's Landing offered you. Your room had a direct view of Blackwater Bay and you spent several days looking out the window at the beautiful sea. Sometimes you could watch Prince Aemond ride his dragon, and honestly, the size of the beast scared you a little. You hadn't had the chance to observe Aegon in Sunfyre yet but if he was as impressive as Vhagar, then he would be quite a sight.

A week passed, then another and another where you were nothing more than a guest in the palace. You didn't talk to anyone, you ate dinner alone, you barely saw the outside of the castle. Sometimes you went to the Sept, pretending to pray, but really just killing the endless boring hours of the day. You were somewhat lucky if you found Helaena, the most sensible and calm within the royal family, because you had pleasant conversations with her. When you met the queen it was a little more difficult, because she asked you endless questions in which you had to fake the answers. How could you be fulfilling your parenting responsibilities if the capricious prince wouldn't deign to lay a finger on you?

After a month, Alicent seemed to take matters into her own hands and forced her eldest son to take you to sleep in the same room as him. However, Aegon seemed to want to blame you for something you hadn't chosen. He never spoke to you and every time you went to bed, he would stand with his back to you as far away as possible. And as if that weren’t enough, he had explicitly ordered his guards not to allow you to leave the room unless it was in his company. It was his way of punishing you, of getting even for the complaints of his mother and grandfather regarding his lack of interest in marriage.

“My mother wants us to attend a dinner tonight” you were so unaccustomed to hearing his voice addressing you that it took you a second to process what he was telling you “I will talk to the maids to bring you a suitable dress.”

You didn't know what to say. You didn't want to go to that dinner, nor did you want to be with him, or wear one of those tight, annoying dresses. Aegon, noticing your silence, deigned to look at you and in your eyes he could see the aversion you felt for him. It was something difficult to mask and he had seen it on so many faces that it was nothing new.

“As you wish, prince.”

A bitter laugh came from your husband's throat.

“Don't be a hypocrite, for God's sake. I know you hate me as much as I hate you. Save appearances for guests, not in the chambers."

You wouldn’t have had the courage to admit out loud what his majesty had said, but you didn’t dare to contradict him either. You had to play the role of a self-sacrificing and suitable wife for the man if you wanted to keep your honor, but above all your head.

You tried, with all your might, to see some quality in Aegon that you liked so that you could treat him in a better way, which always resulted in something useless. Perhaps if he had been nicer to you, you could have known how to forgive his faults, but even that wasn’t granted to you.

The dinner was mostly family-oriented, with the guest of honor being from House Baratheon whose purpose was to discuss some political matters with the king and queen. Due to his health, Viserys didn’t usually leave his room more than necessary, however, that night the occasion warranted it.

“Lady Tyrell, how is your stay in King's Landing?”

The king had a reputation for being gentle with his guests and was the first person to ask you a personal question, so the smile you showed him was genuine.

“Very pleasant, your grace. The servants treat me as well as possible and I must admit that the views from my room are beautiful. Your dragon is impressive, Prince Aemond, by the way.”

The boy, who wasn't all that expressive, just looked at you for a moment and tilted his head down slightly.

“I'm glad you like it, princess.”

"And my son? How is our Aegon treating you?”

That question was more complicated to answer, since it required expressing a lie. Everyone present focused their attention on you, except your husband who had been staring into nothingness for a long time.

“Very well, my king. He’s a good husband and I am happy to have been able to unite our houses.”

The aforementioned snorted, incredulous at what you were saying at the table, and took a long drink from his glass of wine.

“And I hope very soon you can give us strong and beautiful heirs.”

Although that was intended as a compliment, you felt the weight of that responsibility pressing down on you again.

“I wish the same. It will be an honor to serve the crown and bear the progeny of a house as formidable as yours."

The queen was pleased with your answer and for a moment felt sorry for you. She knew her son well, so deep down she knew that it wasn’t a gift from the gods to be married to him. The rest of the table looked at you curiously, wondering if you were serious, trying to be ironic, or just trying to play the good girl role.

Aegon, as expected, became intoxicated during dinner and when Queen Alicent announced that she was going to retire to sleep you thought it prudent to do the same. Your husband, however, had other wishes.

“Stay here,” he asked, his voice serious.

When he was drunk he looked you up and down, probably evaluating how worth it would be to decide to strip you naked and fuck you once and for all. Your body in the dress you were wearing looked better with a few drinks on him.

“I think it would be best to retire, my husband. This way you can stay with the men to chat and… drink”

“But I want you to stay here to keep me company,” he insisted, holding your wrist tightly “Or don't you want to please your prince?”

It wasn’t a loving request, but one for control. He wanted to have you there only to demonstrate his power over you, without paying attention to you or talking; only as an ornament.

“Aegon, enough,” Alicent interrupted, observing the scene that had begun to unfold. “Daughter, let's go to sleep. “I will accompany you”

“Fine, do whatever you want,” he spat contemptuously, abruptly releasing the wrist that was holding you. There was hatred in his eyes, but also pride.

The queen said goodbye to everyone present and then offered you her hand to take you away from there. You spent most of the way in silence, walking through the long, wide corridors of the fortress followed only by the faithful footsteps of Ser Criston Cole.

“You must be patient with him” he began to say “He is a particular man and sometimes… difficult, but I know that with your docile character you will be able to deal with his temperament.”

What did she know about your character? She didn't know you at all.

“So it shall be, Queen Alicent.”

“I understand what you are going through, dear. We both come from the same lands to endure the difficult task of accompanying a monarch. But it is our duty to carry it out with all the honor and temper worthy of our homes. Of course, I can trust that as a woman you will be able to help him fulfill another of the most important marital commitments, such as having children, to maintain the lineage and blood. For a virgin like you, Aegon may be rough, but... patience and resilience are among the best virtues. A woman in royalty must endure these things to give the best to the people.”

You had never wanted to be a princess. And just when you thought the queen was showing you compassion, you realized that she was only looking out for her interests and those of her family.

"Thanks for the advice. I'll keep it in mind"

She smiled and immediately left a kiss on your forehead, which could have been taken as a maternal kiss but which you didn't like at all. The longer you can postpone suffering, the better. If Aegon didn't even want to look at you, it was perfect.

That night, as soon as you touched the mattress and the silk sheets that decorated it, you began to cry until you fell asleep.

SECOND ACT: CONTROL

Time passed again and although the punishment of not leaving your room was not revoked, you found multiple activities with which to entertain yourself in the prince's absence. You filled your mornings and afternoons with reading, writing, knitting and embroidering. The nights were even more boring because most of the time your husband wasn't there either.

Rumors that you hadn’t yet consummated the marriage had spread through the halls of the palace and soon the smallfolk would murmur too. After all, the people couldn’t entertain themselves with anything more than the gossip and the plays that were going on in the poor neighborhoods, making fun of royal affairs.

You no longer even had the energy to deny those accusations and Aegon had given you the perfect opportunity by throwing you out of his room and refusing to leave the four walls of yours: if you didn't leave there, there was no way anyone would question you. And since you didn't have family inside the Keep, you didn't have any visitors either.

One night, however, your husband surprised you by entering your room. It had been days since you two had seen each other and his staggering around the room warned you that he was drunk again. You often wondered how he resisted drinking so much and the long-term effects it would have on his health, but right now your mind could only focus on the fear of what he might want in that state.

“Good night, dear,” he drawled, sounding as sarcastic as possible.

You were in your nightgown and you were carrying in your hand an old book that you had been reading and that you threw on the nightstand as soon as you saw him approaching you. You didn't have time to say or do anything else when he had already approached you in giant steps to grab you by the back of your neck and start kissing you. He was abrupt, careless, with his mouth smelling of wine and tasting even worse. You wanted to cry from helplessness.

“It's what everyone wants, isn't it?” he murmured, separating himself from you, but still holding you by the hair at the back of your neck. “A marriage arranged in a couple of days to form alliances. And that's it, my life was ruined thanks to my father wanting your stupid castle to expand his domain."

The truth is that couldn't be further from the truth. Viserys’s ambition had never been that, as he had been so little involved in the process that he simply didn’t care who his children were or were not married to. Except for Rhaenyra, of course.

Aegon continued:

"I didn’t want this. I didn't want to marry you, or anyone..."

“And you think I do?” you confronted him.

You were tired of the insult, the humiliation and him ignoring you as if you were worthless; even if that was what a husband did. And the most likely thing was that your words would be forgotten due to alcohol or that they would put an end to the wait for your suffering to begin and Aegon decided to take you once and for all.

“You have nothing to lose, prince,” you continued. “You get drunk as much as you want, you run away from your responsibilities and walk everywhere when I have to stay locked up here all day just because you want me to. I have to endure the suspicious looks of everyone because I still don't have an heir in the womb while you go and fuck your whores."

“I'm the prince and I fuck whoever I want, did you hear me?” he hissed. The grip on your hair had already begun to become painful and a few tears slipped down your cheeks “And I stop fucking whoever I want too. I'm not going to please anyone by getting you pregnant. There they will see if they come and force me to put my cock in you”

“Do you doubt that, your grace?” you exclaimed bitterly “Doubts that will force us to conceive?”

“So that's what you want? Do you want me to do it?”

“I want to go home. That is what I want. But my father used me as a bargaining chip and that's why I can't do anything."

“I'm sorry it was like that. If I had chosen my wife, I would surely have chosen someone prettier and more educated than you, but I can't do much either."

Once again, the man pushed you until your lips joined his and the same discomfort settled in you. He didn't kiss you with love, but with fury and violence to the point that you had to push him away when he bit you so hard that a trickle of blood began to come out of your lower lip. Aegon was also stained by it and with an acidic smile he ran the tip of his tongue all over his mouth to remove any traces.

Looking at you he didn't look happy, but he didn't look angry either. He just seemed fed up.

Everyone knew, or suspected, that the prince was very capable of taking sexual advantage of any woman. He had done it before with maids and prostitutes and had slept peacefully throughout that time. However, there was something about you that encouraged him not to. He didn't even think it was something about you specifically but about the situation, because he wanted to do the opposite of what he was ordered: if everyone ordered him to take you to have an heir, it automatically became an unpleasant act and at the same time that he refused.

He was hurt, not because of you but because of years and years of abuse and neglect. He didn't really know you at all, he only knew what you represented.

You were just the unlucky one who had married him.

"I hate you. I hate that you are my wife and you are not worthy of me even touching you” he snapped with disdain. You were still fighting to keep the tears inside your eyes and his vision had also blurred slightly “I wish I had never met you.”

“The feeling is mutual, your grace,” you expressed, your voice breaking. If it was an offense to the crown, you wouldn't even care anymore and if he killed you right there you wouldn't regret it too much either.

Aegon looked at you one last time before staggering back out the door without another word, closing it behind him with a loud gesture and leaving you alone in the room. The reality that you had escaped, once again, from being raped by the man fell on you like a bucket of cold water and your knees weakened until you fell to the floor.

You were hurt, tired, and defeated by the stress of the situation and the fear that had washed over you the entire time. Luckily he was gone, otherwise you didn't know if you would have endured what he had to do to you. It was better to have him busy in a brothel than to have to endure him in your bed.

You wished you could talk to someone and cry on a loved one’s shoulder, only to realize a second later that that was impossible. Aegon was your new family, now you belonged to the Targaryens and you would have to do as they wished.

Anger completely overwhelmed you to the point where you stood up from your seat and began throwing pieces of glassware all over the room, in a violent outburst at what had just happened and the way you felt. None of the guards outside your door dared to come in to check on you and soon enough you fell back to the ground, exhausted from the effort.

As you cried, perhaps for the umpteenth time since you had been married, you thought about how you would never be able to love Prince Aegon. Not even if you tried.

THIRD ACT: PAIN

After months, the inevitable arrived. The truth was that the first time you felt sorrow and anger, but the following times it became more tolerable. Not because it was better, but because you began to get used to it. Aegon didn't change his attitude towards you one bit. You indeed spent more time together, although that didn’t mean that you got along better or that you had begun to have more sympathy for each other.

The only advantage was that you had started to be friends with some people in the palace. Your sister-in-law, to begin with, as well as some of the maids who were in charge of looking after you, as they turned out to be your only company during those days. Those distractions were more than enough for you, considering the situation you were in, and they kept you sane as time went by.

Almost like a punishment from heaven, it seemed that you weren’t pregnant yet, since your biological processes seemed to continue working to the letter. That meant that, unfortunately, you would have to keep trying; when Aegon was lost enough to forget who you were and you had to stand still as a statue to let him loom over you.

You often liked to imagine what your life would have been like if you had stayed in Highgarden. Nobody knew it yet, but there you had found your first love and although it never went beyond a few kisses, you treasured the memory with particular affection. You had always wanted to marry a sweet man who loved and respected you, who would give you your place as a wife and adore you day and night; someone with whom you could feel protected, cared for, but above all happy. You thought, naively, that that boy you had met and who was nothing more than a commoner could have given you that life, but all those possibilities were nothing more than fantasies in which you tried to lock yourself in to feel less miserable with your unpleasant reality.

One night Helaena had invited you to a modest dinner in her company that you couldn't refuse, since none of your husbands were present and some time with friends could clear your mind. You didn't even know where the prince was, although it was expected that he was spending some time in the town with his friends.

“Sometimes I feel sad about our situation,” said the blonde. You were in the privacy of her chambers, not even with the maids present, so confessions like that were allowed “But I am happy that you are my friend, something that wouldn’t have been possible otherwise.”

“I'm glad to talk to you too,” you smiled sincerely. “You're the best thing I've found around here.”

“My brothers aren't that bad, they're just… well, we've had a hard life. And that's why they behave like that."

“I think there is no justification for being a…” idiot, you wanted to say, but you had to remember that you were in the presence of the princess, “a person who is rude to others. But I guess that happens with royalty, right? They do what they want without consequences”

"I guess so. Kings, princes, the heirs, lords, dukes…”

“Okay, I get it,” you laughed bitterly “It's probably a masculine quality.”

You never thought your sister-in-law would have that kind of humor and to be honest, most of the time she was a comic relief for the situations you two were going through. Sometimes her prophecies scared you, especially the way she phrased them, but you wanted to think that her premonitions would never affect you directly.

When you finally got tired of chatting and the food was finished, you decided to return to your room, so you could have a peaceful night's rest. It was raining outside and thunder echoed in the distance, making the atmosphere slightly gloomy, but at the same time cooling every corner of King's landing.

The novelty of your position was no longer important enough to require you to be escorted by guards twenty-four hours a day, so you were able to slowly walk through all the corridors that led to your sanctuary. It was modest but cute, although not on the level of Aegon’s.

A man was guarding the door and you bowed your head to him to let you pass, which he did without any opposition. Once inside you got rid of your shoes and unbuttoned your corset, not caring that the room was almost in darkness; only the moonlight illuminated from the window. You took a few steps forward and squealed when you discovered that there was another person in the room, sitting at the small table with a drink in his hand. You would have started screaming for help if you hadn't noticed that said intruder had silver hair falling like a curtain over his face.

"Your grace?" you asked cautiously.

It isn’t usual for Aegon to drink in your room, as he preferred other places with more interesting company, and when you didn’t receive an answer you approached slowly. You thought that at best he had simply fallen asleep and at worst he would be dead.

At first his long, wavy hair covered your view of his face, but when he noticed your presence he raised his head and then you could see him. His features became clearer as lightning illuminated him from the outside and for a second you were horrified.

His cheek was red and a trickle of blood was dripping from his nose, however, what surprised you the most was seeing his eyes completely swollen.

“For the seven, I… I'll go call a maester”

“Don't even think about it,” he exclaimed hoarsely, seeing that you were already rushing towards the door.

Your husband didn't sound like his usual angry tone, but rather he seemed... hurt.

You thought for a second about what the appropriate reaction to the situation was. You couldn't leave the room because, in addition to the guards murmuring, it would be impolite to leave him in that state; also, where would you go? If you ignored him, he would probably take it as an insult and he had already made it clear that he didn't want to see someone who could take care of those injuries.

You hated him, it was true, but you weren't an insensitive monster either.

"Who did this to you?"

Aegon was surprised by how soft, even kind, your question sounded and the intoxication gave him some courage to answer.

“My mother and my grandfather. Mostly my mother, my grandfather rather dedicated his efforts to reminding me how useless I am”

You didn't know what to say. You never believed that the queen would be capable of hitting one of her sons like that. You didn't believe it from any mother, actually.

With some trepidation you took one of the chairs and placed it in front of him, expecting him to immediately push you away or ask you to get out of his sight. However, the prince didn't seem to have enough energy to do any of those things.

He had a lost look on his face and tears began to run down his face.

“Nothing… nothing I do pleases her. Neither to her, nor to my grandfather. All the time they are pressuring me, demanding me, yelling at me. Apparently Otto still hopes that my father will name me king, but I've never wanted that. They blame me for drinking all the time and how do they expect them not to? My father cares so little about me and my mother hates me. All his life he has hated me. She does it, my brothers… and so do you. My own wife hates me. Everyone… everyone who knows me does it”

You were silent for a moment.

There were mixed feelings inside you, because you couldn't forget the mistreatment that the man had given you during those months, nor the way he used you for his pleasure. He was right when he said you hated him. However, there was a compassionate part of you, deep down, that felt sorry for the man's state.

“And sometimes I just want to be dead. I just wish all the shit would go away and drowning in alcohol and dying would take away Alicent's problem and allow her to focus her attention on something better”

His gaze lifted and he looked at you with crystallized eyes.

“Maybe you should poison me one day. So your suffering would also end”

“Your highness, I cannot do that”

“But would you like it? Do you hate me enough to wish me dead?”

“Of course not,” you said quickly.

"Liar. You lie like everyone else. You want me dead”

You knew that saying something negative at that moment, in the state he was in, could result in him making some incoherence that you would be blamed for the next morning. So it was best to act cautiously.

“I don't think anyone wants that”

“My mother does. My father, Rhaenyra does it, and so does her stupid new husband…”

“Your grace…” you interrupted him harshly. Listening to him sink into his self-indulgence was too much to bear “You better go to sleep, don't you think? Now you're not thinking clearly, you'll feel better in the morning."

But Aegon seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, oblivious to anything you had to say to him.

“I guess I just wish someone wouldn't completely detest my existence, you know?”

Aegon had done terrible things to you, of course, but seeing him at that moment made you wonder if all of this was the product of poor parenting and psychological abuse that had been perpetuated for twenty long years. You couldn't say your father loved you, not after what he had done, but at least he hadn't constantly hurt you as the man in front of you had. You knew better than anyone that hate had to be healed with empathy and for a brief moment you felt soft for him.

Once Aegon was a small child, without sins, without accumulated hatred, without evil... and apparently that frightened child hadn’t been completely buried, because it was him who cried inconsolably and saw death as a viable alternative to end that suffering. However, there is no redemption without guilt, right? You don't get to heaven without first repenting.

You stayed silent for a long time, listening to him sob, and when you gathered the courage you spoke:

“Prince, can I be honest with you?”

You had spoken in a low and benevolent voice, while you slid from your chair until you were kneeling in front of him. The boy didn't even want to take advantage of that position for a sexual act, he was simply too tired and drained to think. You placed your hands on his knees and seeing that he nodded, you continued:

“You say you wish someone wouldn't hate you, but have you ever made an effort to do so? Or have you even wondered why people feel that way about you?”

“It's something natural for them”

“I didn't feel it,” you said, honestly. You hated the idea of getting married out of obligation, but if he had been different from the beginning maybe your feelings for him would be too “And you made me feel it. With your contempt, your humiliations, your punishments…”

“If everyone thinks you're a monster, what's the point of contradicting them?”

“And then you prefer to agree with them?”

You were probably taking too many liberties with the prince, but you would never have a chance to talk to him like that again. He was vulnerable and therefore less defensive than normal.

“Every person is responsible for their actions,” you continued. “You can't change how the queen or king feels about you, but you can choose to offer something better to others. If it’s your desire that people not hate you, that won’t happen overnight just because you tell it to. It takes time, effort and above all it requires kindness. If you live regretting the concept that people have of you, without doing anything to change it, then you will live a lifetime of dissatisfaction. If you seriously want someone to feel happy about your existence then pursue that goal, don’t expect it to be granted to you as a divine work.”

A deeper cry began to well up from the man and you almost thought he would lean down for your hug. Still, he didn't.

“I don't know how to be someone else. I have always been this”

“Not always, that's for sure. Water that stagnates rots and becomes a swamp. The one that runs, on the other hand, becomes a river and flows into the ocean.”

You raised the handkerchief you always carried and, in an act of kindness that was also intended to be an offering of peace, you gently wiped the tears and dried blood from his face. Aegon squirmed as he had never experienced that kind of care.

“You just have to ask yourself: what do you choose to be?”

For an endless moment he watched you. His judgment was clouded by drunkenness, but he wondered if he wasn't hallucinating and you were simply the voice of his conscience telling him something he had never wanted to accept.

It was easier to blame others for his mistakes, to justify himself by saying that everything about him was his mother's fault and that if he behaved the way he did it was only a defense mechanism. Aegon had never thought about how his treatment of women was a direct consequence of Alicent's upbringing: if his own mother had hurt him, why wouldn't other women do the same to him? And since he was convinced that they were all going to do it, he preferred to turn them into objects that he could use for his benefit.

He was so drunk and so exhausted from all the crying he had shed that he simply pushed your hand away from his face and stood up from the chair, without saying a word. You, now standing, saw him begin to undress and the first thing you thought was that he would seek to heal his sorrows by having sex with you. However, he only got rid of the essentials and then lay on his stomach on the bed. Without any choice, you took off your clothes for the day, put on a nightgown and also lay down on the mattress to sleep.

You were sure that the next day Aegon wouldn’t remember anything and you weighed the possibility of the whole story repeating itself, in an endless and painful loop for the two of you. And if you were right, it would be a shame if you had to live like this for the rest of your days.

FOURTH ACT: REDEMPTION

“Do you know where Meryna is?” you asked one of the maids who had come in to change your bedding.

“No, your grace”

“I'm starting to get hungry and she still hasn't brought my breakfast,” you exclaimed sadly.

You had woken up a while ago and had gotten dressed to go for a walk after eating, to see if this would cheer you up a little. It had been a few days since Aegon had opened up in the privacy of your room and after that you had barely seen him, much less spoken to him. You believed that everything was due to a matter of pride or even shame for what you had witnessed and you simply didn’t give it importance, because you knew that eventually he would approach you again. You just had to wait for him to want to do it.

Almost as if by summons, the black-haired girl appeared through the door, looking agitated and embarrassed by the delay. Furthermore, she came empty-handed.

"Princess…"

“Didn't you bring breakfast?” you asked, still sounding cordial but slightly surprised.

“I'm very sorry, it's just that Prince Aegon asked me to bring the food to the royal dining room. He is waiting for you there, he told me to come and get you.”

He hadn’t mentioned requiring your presence for any breakfast and, according to you, there were no guests in the palace to accompany. The two women noticed your dismay and Meryna stood waiting for a response.

“Did he tell you why?”

“No, your grace”

"Good. Then tell him I'll be there in a moment."

You only took a few minutes to change your dress, one more suitable for being in the presence of the prince and in case there was a guest you didn't know about. There were no guards at your door so you were able to walk to the dining room by yourself and were surprised to see that only your husband was at the table. He had an expression that you interpreted as a mix of impatience and nerves.

“Oh, you finally arrived. Sit down. You, bring the princess something to drink,” he ordered a maid. He used to call you that in the presence of guests, but it was rare for him to have that courtesy when alone.

“Are we waiting for someone?”

"No. I just thought you might want to have breakfast together.”

You were already sitting next to him, and for a second you watched him with a frown. Had he hit his head somewhere or why was he acting so strange?

“Do you prefer juice or wine, your highness?

"Juice"

“And bring her some strawberries,” Aegon exclaimed.

There was something about the situation that scared you, because you imagined that he wouldn't be treating you so kindly without wanting something in return. But you were already his wife and he did whatever he wanted with you, what more could he want from you?

You looked him up and down, as if searching for some sign, but he looked completely normal. He was wearing one of those full black robes he was used to, with a golden chain with emeralds decorating the hem of his neck and a belt accentuating his figure. The dark circles in his eyes were pronounced, as always, but the look was not that of someone angry; you would even say that he looked somewhat passive, even sleepy.

While you were thinking about all that, you remembered the last conversation you had had with him. You feared that madness had finally exploded in your husband and the food you were about to eat was poisoned, as he had suggested at the time. Perhaps out of courtesy he was waiting for you to take the first bite and, trying to control the trembling in your hands, you took a portion of the cold cuts on your plate to put it in your mouth. Luckily the food didn't taste different and after seeing that the man ate it with the utmost calmness, you assumed that it didn't contain any poison either.

There was freshly baked bread, jam, some cheeses, the aforementioned cold cuts, a variety of fruits, scrambled eggs with fresh herbs and chives, as well as some stuffed buns for dessert. It was a mini banquet and as you ate it you couldn't help but wonder why this show of kindness was due.

Aegon didn't seem to have any intention of talking and you didn't try to force him, not wanting to either. The atmosphere was one of peace and tranquility, one you had not experienced since your wedding day until now, and it was a very different but strangely pleasant feeling.

It was just a couple sharing breakfast time, but for two people who come from such a broken home it felt like a totally new experience.

You continued in silence until most of the things served were finished, leaving only what wasn’t to your palate's liking or that your body was simply no longer able to ingest.

“Do you need anything else, your majesty?”

“Clear this table, we won't eat anymore,” he said to the maid, nonchalantly pointing to the leftovers you had left. Then he looked at you “Satisfied?”

"I am. Everything was delicious”

“I want us to do the same tomorrow. I will send a maid for you, so get ready soon,” he said decisively.

Then he got up from his chair, stretched a little, and left the room without saying anything else to you.

You didn't see your husband the rest of the day, but the next morning he kept his promise without fail. Although the breakfast menu was different the routine was the same and again it made you wonder what the reason for it was.

The next day he also requested your presence for breakfast and you concluded that he intended to make it a habit. For the rest of the morning you were supposed to dedicate yourself to your activities, but after a week of following that routine Aegon informed you that he had other plans for you.

“I want you to come with me for a walk.”

"To the exterior?"

"Yeah. I have training with Ser Criston but I don't wish to attend, so you will be my excuse. I'll tell him that the princess wanted to go for a walk and that I couldn't let her go alone."

He was telling you that lie almost like a childish prank and you would swear he was about to smile.

“Huh, okay. If you want it, we will”

You were still confused by his actions, because in all the time you had been there it was the first time he treated you decently. You didn't know if he was still drinking in large quantities, but at least when he went to sleep he no longer reeked of liquor in the same way. And all that week he hadn't forced you to have sex with him.

What had motivated the prince to change his way of behaving towards you?

"Do you want to go to the beach? I will order a couple of horses to be saddled for us” he exclaimed when you had already left the dining room.

You couldn't refuse to go to the bay, because in your entire life you had never seen the ocean and your curiosity was greater than any other feeling. Besides, you loved horses, and being with them might even make you feel better.

Aegon did as he told you and soon enough you were in the stable. He had ordered a beautiful white mare for you, with a silver mane the color of your husband's hair and a formidable build.

You approached to pet the animal, carefully, and tensed completely when you felt another body behind yours. Until that moment you hadn't realized how warm your husband was.

“She's pretty, right?”

His voice sounded at your ear level, as he had also reached out to touch Frostfire’s hair.

"She is"

“I guess you know how to ride,” he muttered under his breath and you let out an offended sigh.

“Of course I do. Highgarden is the heart of the chivalry of the seven kingdoms”

After saying that you turned your head just a little and met his gaze, indigo eyes with hints of lilac looking at you carefully. You could feel his breath against yours and at that closeness your cheeks had already turned red involuntarily.

He separated from you and then went to choose his horse, a black thoroughbred with beautiful braids, to get on it and ask the guards to open the door for you. You almost managed to sneak away, but Ser Criston stopped the two of you just before you could do so, claiming that he had a scheduled practice with the prince.

“I'm taking my wife to Blackwater, she hasn't had a chance to visit since her arrival.”

“But your grace, your father…”

“We will continue with training later, Ser Criston,” he said firmly.

“Will you go to Blackwater without an escort?”

“I will”

"That's impossible"

“Don't worry, I don't want to be accompanied. Just rest for now.”

“But you are the prince.”

"Exactly. I am the prince and I want my orders to be respected."

The boy was a smug son of a bitch when he put his mind to it, just like now. The man had no choice but to obey the words and then the two of you were able to leave. You could get there on foot, but Aegon had felt like riding and had wanted an alternative to quickly escape if something went wrong.

You walked along a path that still belonged to the Red Keep grounds, so there was no great danger of being attacked along the way, and you soon reached the bay. It was even more beautiful up close and as soon as you got off the mare you forgot any courtesy towards your husband, as you rushed towards the shore to watch the waves crash. Your pumps and dress were soaked when the water reached your calves, but it didn't bother you too much because you were happy for the reason.

“Have you never been to the ocean?”

“I'm afraid not, your grace. There was never any business that required me to be on the coast of The Reach and I have always lived surrounded by hills and forests. I had seen some rivers, but…”

Before you could continue your story you staggered because of a wave and to avoid falling you tried to hold on to whatever was within reach, which turned out to be the man next to you. He supported you from the elbows with his strong arms.

“Oh, I'm so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he laughed. For the first time in your presence, he had laughed “But we should get away from the shore. I wouldn't want to take you back to the castle all soaked”

You heeded the boy's advice and, still leaning on him, walked towards the sand. The sky was slightly cloudy, so the weather was perfect for walking around without any discomfort.

“I've never visited Highgarden, is it as impressive as rumored?” he asked, as he began to walk in the opposite direction of the Red Keep.

Although you never believed that the prince would be interested in such things, you began to talk to him about your hometown with particular emotion. You told him about his surroundings, about the castle and you also told in greater detail the gardens that once belonged to you and were full of golden roses, as was the emblem of your house.

You were surprised by how attentive the boy was to everything you had to say to him and for the first time since your arrival, you didn't feel like a stranger in your own skin. Talking about your home was like remembering a part of yourself, as if you were showing him your insides through stories of the beautiful hills where you had ridden so many times.

“Everything sounds wonderful,” he concluded. The sea breeze had already ruffled both of your hair and he took advantage of this to brush a strand out of your face “Someday I should go visit it”

“Yes, maybe you would like that” you exclaimed smiling. You had come too far and it was time to walk back, towards where you had left Frostfire and Moonshadow tied up “Your grace, may I ask you a question?”

"Yeah"

You opened your mouth to ask him why he was doing all that and why he had suddenly started showing so much interest in you. You wanted to know the reason for his unexpected kindness and his abstinence from activities that weren’t very pleasant for you. But before you could speak, you took a moment to observe him. His skin looked paler in the light outside and his silver hair waved in the wind, however, what caught your attention the most was the serene expression on his face.

Although you couldn't say that you knew Aegon, the time you had lived together had shown you that his personality was extremely challenging. If you pointed out that he was being nicer to you and questioned him about it, he would most likely revert to his old behavior towards you simply on a whim. So no, you couldn't ask him about anything or you'd ruin the minuscule part of a good relationship you had managed to build.

“I was thinking... Do you think we can one day bring golden roses to the royal gardens? Green and gold are part of your emblem too and that would beautify the place. I could take care of them, if you want.”

“That's a good idea,” he exclaimed happily. You had already turned around to return and you calculated that it must be after noon “I will order them to be brought in as soon as possible, in the hope that the hot weather at King's landing will not ruin them”

“I hope not,” you said, although a little less enthusiastic than before.

You had been lost in thought after the appearance of that question that you did not verbalize and suddenly Aegon feared that he had made some mistake. You walked a few meters in silence, until this state was unbearable for his majesty and he stopped you by holding your shoulders. You were about to ask what had happened when he pulled you against his lips, stealing your breath. It was still a rough kiss, but this time less desperate than before. His hands went down to your waist and held you to his body until there wasn’t even a centimeter of distance left, with your belly touching the heat of his stomach.

“Still no signs that you are pregnant?”

You thought that, perhaps, your answer was in that question and that the only thing the man wanted was to convince you to hurry up the matter of producing an heir.

“I'm sorry to say no. It's very unfortunate."

“We'll have to keep trying,” he said, shrugging his shoulders as if he wanted to downplay the matter “Mother insists on it.”

“Has your mother always been like this to you?”

"What are you talking about?"

“It's just… she seems to have everything under control all the time.”

You couldn't be further from the truth and rather than describing it that way Aegon would have said that she was controlling. She wanted to have things under control, but she couldn't and as an example was the eldest prince himself, whom she had never been able to persuade to behave the way he did.

“Well, she is the queen. I guess that's how she must be” he exclaimed without much encouragement. He was still holding you by the waist and was surprised by how intimate that position was. “But we better get back, they must be wondering where we are”

“Maybe they even think I ran away, taking advantage of the fact that you weren't there to watch me,” you joked.

"Would you do it?"

"Do what?"

“Run away”

You looked at the man, incredulous, because it was stupid to think that if you were planning to run away you would just tell him like that. That was the characteristic of it, that it was surprising and hidden.

“Why would I do, your grace?”

“Maybe because I'm a bad husband,” he said quietly. You weren't understanding the game Aegon was playing and it was driving you crazy.

“I wouldn't dare do it. I have nowhere to go and I know I couldn't even get through the doors without your majesty noticing,” you replied.

The prince didn’t want pragmatic reasons like that, but rather his question was more aimed at whether it was your will to abandon him.

Against all odds a couple of raindrops began to fall and very soon a storm had already brewed over your head. It was useless to run, but you did it anyway and Aegon held your hand to prevent either of you from falling due to a trip. Somewhere along the way you lost one of your pumps and at this you began to laugh and he, infected by your joy, did the same. It amused you greatly to think of the face the queen would make when she saw you enter the castle, with her eldest son soaked from head to toe and your clothing incomplete. But you also laughed from the joy of feeling so alive in that moment. You felt like a girl playing in the rain and despite the coldness of the falling water, you felt a certain warmth traveling from the tips of your fingers to your chest.

Although he was sure that you were an excellent rider, your husband insisted on taking you on his own horse to avoid any accidents and you agreed without complaint. His body sheltered you all the way to the Red Keep and once there, under the roof, he helped you down from the chair with extreme care. You didn't think he was that strong until you felt him grab your waist and place you on the floor effortlessly.

“Ask the maids to prepare a bath for you, or you will catch a cold,” he said, putting on your back a cloak he had found hanging on one of the walls.

There was the hint of a smile on his face and seeing him behave like this towards you made you feel weird. You almost felt like he was trying to be affectionate with you, even though he wasn't quite succeeding.

“You should do the same,” you exclaimed softly.

Motivated by the kind moment you had shared, you reached out to brush away the wet hair that had stuck to his face and he shivered at your touch. It was the first time you touched him that way, out of conviction and with care.

“Your majesty, Lord Hand is looking for you. He says he needs to talk to you urgently."

“My grandfather,” he sighed at you, as if wanting to apologize for the words the guard behind you had just said.

He gave the man Moonshadow's reins and then explained that someone had to go get the horse you had left in the bay, so you assumed your presence there was no longer necessary. You were about to leave when he stopped you, grabbing your arm somewhat roughly and looking at you with a feeling that you couldn't decipher.

“I'll go to your room tonight,” he informed.

You felt a little disappointed by the reality of having to share a bed with him, after so long without having done so, but you were grateful that he was at least warning you.

You nodded your goodbyes and he did the same, forming an unspoken agreement. You thought maybe that was why he had been polite to you, so he could get back under your bed sheets. But there was no point in doing it, he wasn't courting you to win your hand, but you were already his wife and he had made it very clear that he could do with you whatever he wanted.

Still a little confused, you were escorted to your bedroom, where you hoped that a tub with hot water and essences would be enough to appease all those doubts that were growing in you.

FIFTH ACT: LOVE

At some point Aegon would get tired of all this, you were sure. But while that moment arrived, you were thoroughly enjoying all kinds of attention you received from your husband. He kept his promise to bring golden roses for the gardens and although the queen wasn’t very happy, in the end they adorned some of the busiest sections of the place. You took that as an act of good faith, so you thought that maybe the thought of repaying him for some of the decency he was showing you wouldn't kill you.

There wasn’t a single breakfast that you skipped, except when the prince was required for political matters or had to travel. You were too proud to admit that you had begun to genuinely enjoy his company, as you still had some distrust due to how temperamental the man was. It wasn't all sunshine and flowers, as the young man still had some outbursts that made you fear him and reminded you that this was who you were really talking to.

His drinking habits hadn’t changed much, since although he was able to handle it during the first week after that period, it was inevitable that he would go back to his old ways and drink an entire jug of wine in a couple of minutes. With sex it was the same, because he continued to fuck you without signs of care and regularly when he was lost in drink. It amused you to think that perhaps that was the reason why you still didn't carry a child in your womb; that he was too drunk when you tried to be of any use.

However, as your relationship strengthened you could notice slight (you almost swore they were imaginary) changes when having sex. He was no longer as rough towards your body as before and tried to thrust into you a little slower, as if he wanted to lengthen the moment and not just unload into you and sleep like a baby after that. Maybe it was just that the drink made him lethargic, but he had even started seeking your lips in the middle of the act or kissing everything within reach of the skin on your neck. You didn't intend to spend much time analyzing his behavior because for you it already represented a victory that he had stopped hurting you after every time you had sex and, honestly, you didn't want to inquire about it. Once again you thought it was more prudent not to question the prince and simply let him continue behaving that way.

Until one night, things looked different for you.

When you heard your husband open the door, quite late at night, and saw him approach your bed, you knew that the same dynamic of nighttime visits would take place. Aegon, already hard as a rock, would kiss you a few times, undress, order you to undress, and then position on top of you to satisfy himself. Needless to say, under the confidence that being in the dark gave you and your husband's lack of interest, you looked away or concentrated on something else while your martyrdom was carried out. He would finish, lie naked next to you, and then sleep soundly with no memory the next morning of what had happened.

Aegon called your name, just to check that you were awake or otherwise wake you up, and you were surprised to hear that his voice sounded quite normal. He wasn't slurring his words like usual.

"Your grace?" you called back, propping yourself up on your elbows so you could look at him.

He did what was expected and as soon as he was far enough away, he started kissing you. You must have known something was wrong from that first moment, when he grabbed your cheek with his wide hand and offered you the most passionate kiss you had ever had. It is reiterated that Aegon was always somewhat careless in intimacy, but this first contact hadn’t felt as impatient as others, but rather was something more careful and planned.

Only one other man had kissed you like that in your life and although the feeling brewing in your chest must have been pleasant, the truth was that it wasn't. You had endured too much abuse from the white-haired man so your body didn't know how to react otherwise. That's why when he continued kissing you for longer than usual and then laid you down meekly, you couldn't do anything but tense uncomfortably.

You were only in your nightgown so there wasn't much difficulty in sliding the straps to the side, almost exposing your tits. Suddenly Aegon lowered his kisses to your neck, where his stubble scratched your skin. Knowing that he would be busy in that area, you turned your head away to focus your gaze on a tapestry on the wall. However, you got a surprise when you felt the prince move away from you and then a bigger one when he took your face between his fingers, placing his index finger and thumb on each of your cheeks to force you to look at him. At first you thought there was anger in his eyes, but after looking at them for a second more you concluded that the feeling was more like that of someone insulted. And why? you asked yourself. What had you done that had offended the prince?

“Why are you looking away?”

His question had a certain aggressive tone, but, at the same time, he sounded hurt. With that you confirmed that he wasn’t drunk or that, if he was, he had drunk just enough to make him feel slightly dizzy. You couldn't tell the way your eyes looked at him, but Aegon interpreted your expression as one of disdain.

Unbeknownst to you, he had his own whirlwind of feelings inside him, one that was driving him crazy and causing him to look you up and down while still holding you. He’d never been like this on another night, so you were at the mercy of knowing how good or bad that would turn out.

Suddenly he seemed upset, you would even say disgusted, and surprisingly stood up from his position. The cold air hit you where he had been before and you sat on the bed to watch him, completely confused by the way he was behaving.

"What's going on…?"

“You don't want this,” he spoke firmly. It was obvious that you didn't want to and you wondered how he had barely realized it. “Not like that… I… no. Not this way"

His babbling confused you even more and when you saw him walk away with exaggerated steps until he left through the door, you couldn't help but feel totally amazed.

What was the reason for what your husband had just done?

The feeling of being abandoned was more hopeless than having him fuck you would have been, and for a moment you even felt ashamed. Maybe he didn't like you anymore or he would just go and cure his frustration in the bed of a woman you didn't know.

He had watched you very strangely and the whole scene wasn't like him. You even pinched yourself just to check that it wasn't some strange dream, getting a moan of pain in response to your question. You thought that perhaps you were acting impulsively, but barely a minute later you put on a green robe over your nightgown and headed towards the door, still not knowing exactly what you were going to do.

“Where are you going, your grace?” the guard on duty asked, putting his voluptuous body in your way.

“Prince Aegon, do you know where he went?”

“In that direction, your majesty. But I'm afraid I must recommend that you return to your room, it is dangerous to walk around the palace at this time."

“But I wish to see my husband,” you said firmly.

The man let out a sigh and then slid to the side of the hallway, leaving you a clear path. Even so, when you started walking you felt his footsteps following you because he probably wanted to make sure that something didn't happen to you. You walked for a while, but you knew it was useless when all you found were locked doors that you couldn't knock on and that you couldn't open either. If Aegon was in any of those rooms, you wouldn't know it. Defeated, you returned to your room and, as expected, found it empty again.

The next morning there wasn’t a single word about that event, but it was present in your mind throughout the day. You had already lived with him enough to realize that something was bothering him, however, upon noticing that he was less talkative during your usual breakfast, you decided to give him time.

You were about to leave the table when he stopped you, asking you to take your seat again and looking at you seriously.

“I have to travel for a couple of weeks,” he informed you. You were surprised to hear that he almost sounded sad “The king is required on some business and since my father can no longer travel, I will have to do it.”

“I hope the entire journey is favorable and the visit profitable, your grace,” you exclaimed cordially. However, your husband didn’t seem pleased with it.

One of his hands slid to hold yours, with a strength that surprised you. There was urgency in his grip, like he needed to hold on to something.

“Is that all you have to say?”

A couple of wrinkles appeared on your brow, as you clearly weren't understanding what he expected of you. Accompanying him would be reckless and you didn't know if he wanted you to keep him there at King's landing.

During those last months something had changed in the man's face, because those eyes surrounded by purple marks no longer saw you with the same aversion as the first time. And it disheartened Aegon that his attempts to please you were yielding no apparent fruit. He was giving you time, effort, and being kind to you like you had said was necessary, but he still couldn't help but feel that you still considered him a stranger.

He had been patient because he thought that, as time went by, you would begin to seek him out or not shy away from his touch. Aegon cared a lot about the physical, so every time he sneaked into your room he did so with the hope that you would welcome him with open arms and give yourself to him willingly. Countless nights he waited in his own room for you to show up to keep him warm and love him throughout the night. But it never happened and a part of him couldn't blame you either.

However, he was already tired of it. He wanted to make it clear to you that he not only wanted to give, but also receive. But forcing you to do anything would ruin everything; you had to want it.

“Have I said something that offended you, prince?”

“I just thought you would say you were going to miss me”

A laugh echoed in your throat at those words and for a second Aegon felt hurt, like you were mocking you. He was going to let go of your hand and walk away, insulted, but you squeezed his hand harder as a sign that you didn't want him to do that.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh at you. I just didn't think that if I harbored feelings of that kind they would be of interest to your majesty."

“Do you miss me when you don't see me?” he asked now, allowing himself to be vulnerable in front of you “Or are you glad to have me away?”

You didn't know what those direct questions were about, because you didn't expect that a man like him would be plagued by uncertainty about knowing the answers.

“Not at all. I will always be willing to be with you whenever you want.”

“And you want to be with me?” he insisted.

“I think that what I want is not important”

“But I'm trying to make it so. I thought I was making it clear enough,”

He was angry, but not for the reasons you might think. It frustrated him that he was trying hard to improve and that your eyes continued to see him like that first time. Too many people were already observing him like that and he thought that, perhaps, since you were the most recent to do it, you could also be the first in whom he could manage to modify it.

You, however, were still too confused by his signs. Sometimes his attitude didn’t coincide with the intentions he had, since antipathy was often the only emotion with which he allowed himself to express and feel, accustomed to what he received during all his years of life.

All those months of effort were a direct product of the talk you had had with him, of that moment of weakness in which, instead of ignoring him like everyone else did, you had stayed with him. Aegon was aware that the treatment towards you was sometimes inhumane and he couldn’t explain how despite this you had wiped away his tears with such care, expressing nothing more than an act of integrity. Sometimes he even just imposed things on you to see if he could push you to the limit and he was surprised to see that you endured everything with honor and decency. You were good, something he could never be.

He didn't want to hear anything more and then let go of your hand, feeling rejected again.

"Majesty…"

"It's getting late. I have to go feed Sunfyre so he can endure the trip.”

“Will you travel by dragon?”

“How else would a Targaryen do it?” expressed obviously.

You were silent for a moment and then he stood up, ready to fulfill his obligations. In the afternoon he had already left, without emotional goodbyes or anything like that.

You had those weeks alone to reflect on everything that had been happening. You firmly believed that a cruel and evil person would always be that way, even if they hid it, because humans can’t change from one day to the next. Still, you had to allow Aegon the courtesy of admitting that he wasn't being a complete jerk lately.

You tried to think of any unpleasant moments with him during that week and although you found a couple, you realized that they had all been because of minor arguments or simply that one of the two of you had woken up in a bad mood. The hatred for the boy had been so ingrained in you that now it was difficult to decipher how much of it was due to things that were really happening and how much of it was a resentment carried from the past, at the beginning of that harmful relationship that existed between you.

He was no longer a mean man to you, he just sometimes had those logical slips for anyone who has never been taught to love. He didn't know how to care for you, how to talk to you, or even how to touch you properly. He had always existed alone and could still be seen reflected in his incessant desire for you to be the one to look for him, in his longing to know that you would miss him during his absence and in wanting you to look forward to his return. He wanted you to pay attention to him. He needed it.

One fine afternoon the vision of Sunfyre finally appeared in the bright blue of the sky, with you watching from the huge window of your room. He looked majestic, flying deftly and confidently with the rider above him grinning from ear to ear. Aegon had once confessed to you that he loved to fly on his dragon and he spoke about it with a devotion that completely touched you.

You thought about going to look for him, grateful that he had returned, but you were afraid that your presence would bother him or, in that case, that there would be murmurs about you. You didn't want to seem like a desperate wife so you thought it would be best to look for him at dinner time and in case he wanted to see you before, you stayed in your room all afternoon.

Once night fell, you put on one of your prettiest dresses and went to the royal dining room hoping to find him there, but it was in vain. Luckily one of the cooks had seen him and he told you that he was in his room, since he had ordered that something to eat and drink be brought there.

Determined, you made your way there and took a moment before entering. You hoped that the time away from King's landing had not hardened your lover's character, because it would be a shame to waste what you had built for some time and have to start over, or not do it at all, which would be even worse. Since there were no guards at the door, you were able to push the wood without any hindrance and then you saw it.

Aegon was sitting near the fireplace, his back to the entrance and leaning against a table that had a jug that you assumed was full (or not so full anymore) of wine. When he heard your footsteps he turned slightly and when he saw you, he kept a serene expression on his face.

“Hey,” he exclaimed quietly.

“The maids informed me that you were here” you explained and he nodded.

You noticed that he no longer wore his black doublet with the Targaryen emblem, he only kept the breeches of the same color and a mint-colored linen shirt that left part of his chest exposed. His white hair had some natural curls that fell delicately over her shoulders.

“Yeah. I don't feel like seeing my parents.”

“I understand” you assumed that if he hadn't wanted to see you he wouldn't have hesitated to tell you, so you approached him. Undecided whether you should greet him with a kiss or just stay to the side, you placed your hands on his shoulders and leaned a little to look at him “How was the trip?”

“It was good,” he responded with reluctance. “But my body feels completely crushed”

“Hm. It shows” you whispered, amused. The tension in his body was palpable and that's why you began to massage him, pressing hard just where he needed it. Aegon, feeling your skilled hands doing this, let out a satisfied grunt and leaned his head back with his eyes closed.

Doing that wasn’t something you had planned when you went there, it had only happened out of the heat of the moment and the reality that your husband's body was taking its toll on him for the hours he had spent riding his dragon.

With each passing second Aegon's burden felt lighter and lighter, wondering where you had learned those movements and how your hands were strong enough to exert the right pressure.

"Feel better?" you asked kindly and he nodded immediately, eyes still closed.

Suddenly one of your hands slid lower, towards his chest, to caress him. This time your fingers were light as feathers, sending an electrical current up and down the man's spine under your touch. No whore had ever touched him like that, with that force and at the same time so delicately.

But it was clear that you were not a whore. You were his wife.

“Come here,” he said firmly, reaching out to wrap his hand around your wrist and pulling you directly into his lap.

It was extremely painful to admit that he had missed you. He was physically frustrated because he hadn't dared to take any other woman in your absence. It had been a long time since he had frequented pleasure houses, since his appetite was awakened only by being with you.

What the hell had you done to him?

“The cook told me that you ordered some food, but I only see wine around here. Have you already eaten anything?”

“Mhmm,” he said absently. Your legs dangled to the side and one of his hands came up to your face, brushing your loose hair away from it. The other one surrounded you until it planted itself firmly on your belly. “Still no signs of anything?”

“Honestly, I don't know. The maesters can’t say with certainty… I am sorry”

“What if you are sterile?” the mere possibility of it made you nervous and you wondered what your fate would be if that was the case. Aegon didn't look so worried “What a disappointment for Alicent.”

You didn't know how to take that, because on the one hand it could be that your husband was amused by the irony of the matter and on the other hand it was that he would never have wanted to have children with you. For a moment you thought that the tranquility of the environment had been fragmented by this, but it turned out that the man couldn't care less. He was completely focused on your lips, almost as if hypnotized.

“I trust that is not the case, your grace. Just… it was a streak of bad luck.”

“I guess so,” he murmured nonchalantly. He was still watching your mouth when you spoke “But now I don’t care much about that.”

He carefully grabbed you by the back of your neck and brought you closer to shorten the distance, giving you an eager kiss that took your breath away. The hand that was on your waist pulled you closer to his body, leaving practically no separation between you and him. You could feel the desperation on his lips and in his touch, like he was eager to make you his. And at the same time, he was kissing you like he had never done before: it was sweet, yearning, passionate. You felt like he really wanted you.

He separated from you so you could breathe and, as best he could, he maneuvered to lift your body until he placed you on the table, where it was easier for him to place himself in the space between your legs. You instinctively placed your hands around his neck and wrapped one of your legs around his body.

“I longed for you. These weeks” you finally confessed. You heard him, and felt him, breathe more erratically at this because your words had fallen on him with the force of an axe.

From there, Aegon acted solely driven by the feeling of knowing that you had wanted to see him as much as he had wanted to see you.

His entire body leaned over you to kiss you, with the same urgency as at the beginning. While he did that he grabbed you by the lower back, pulling you until your body collided with his crotch which, if it wasn't already hard, wouldn't take long.

His kisses were clumsy due to urgency and after a while he moved away from your mouth to descend to your neck. Sometimes he left a kiss or two, at most, but this time he seemed to want to take his time. His tongue ran all over your skin, freshly washed, and he spread caresses without restraint. Every place the dragon's lips touched lit up with fire and his hips grinding against you weren't doing much for the blush on your cheeks. Inevitably you began to sigh from so many stimuli, right at the level of his ear, which only motivated him to continue.

As best he could he pulled the laces on the back of your dress and it didn't take long to get rid of the restraints. He slid one of your sleeves over your shoulder to begin kissing that section, the same way he had done with your neck. An indiscreet moan escaped you as your husband bit into your soft flesh and you could feel him smile against your skin.

“You're mine, right?” he sighed brokenly. You had tilted your head back to give him more space and he took the opportunity to lower the entire torso of your dress. “Only mine…”

With the same devotion he took care of your breasts and you couldn't do anything but continue alternating between sighs and some muffled moans. You could feel how he longed for you, eager to be able to kiss every inch of your skin even if it took him the entire night. Suddenly your body had become a temple, an object worthy of worship. The prince continued to distribute kisses that each time descended towards your belly, until with one hand he violently threw everything that was on the table and you ended up lying completely on it. Then he walked away.

You were about to ask what had happened when he took care of taking off your ballerina flats and throwing them somewhere far away in the room, only to stretch your leg up to the height of his torso to start kissing it. No one, not even him, had ever done that to you, so it was natural for you to be dismayed. His kisses moved quickly up your thigh and once he did that, he dropped to his knees in front of you. The skirt of your dress blocked your view and when you tried to get up something made you scream. Aegon had bitten into the tender flesh of your thighs, quite close to your crotch and with more force than he had hit your shoulder. You could only imagine his face when he carefully licked the mark he had surely left on you, once again making your chest exhale a moan.

What he did next and the sensation it caused, you could never have even imagined. That mouth, which most of the time was used for ironic puns and sloppy kisses, was now taking expert care of all of your pussy. Aegon was devouring you completely, touching just where it was necessary to make you squirm on the table. He wasn't careful at all; it was a touch hungry and extremely dirty.

You wanted to hold on as much as you could to keep yourself attached to reality, but it was difficult with your husband eating you like that. One of his arms wrapped around your leg and placed it over his shoulder, probably to give him better access. You had never moaned like that in his presence and it only made him harder and harder beneath the tight fabric of his breeches.

The pleasure was barely getting to your head when he stopped and a dissatisfied grunt escaped you shamelessly. Aegon laughed unabashedly at this, pleased at the control he had gained over you, and then went up again to kiss you hungrily. You couldn't do anything but welcome his salty lips and you moaned against him as he leaned against your body and you could feel his crotch, not knowing if it was your own wetness or his that was present.

He held you from behind and, without stopping kissing you, carried you until he placed you on the bed. You considered it somewhat unfair that your husband already had you trembling beneath him and still hadn't taken off a single piece of clothing, but your complaints were silenced when he hurriedly pulled his shirt over his head and took off his breeches in record time. In the same way, he pulled your dress towards your legs so that a second later it ended up on the floor, along with everything else.

He knelt down on the mattress and spread your legs roughly, lining himself up with your entrance. He began to rub the tip of his member up and down your already wet center and that did nothing but drive you crazy again.

When a delicate, pleading, «please» escaped your swollen lips, Aegon knew it was more stimulating to have you begging for him than to worry about only satisfying himself.

He played with you for a while longer, smiling from ear to ear at the sight of his delicate, pretty wife vibrating from having him close, until he finally plunged into you. For the first time there was enough wetness in you that the stroke felt satisfying rather than painful and both of you let out a delicious moan.

He set the pace, slow at first, but after a while his movements became more desperate. He wanted to get to the core of you, he wanted to fill you completely so you knew that only he could make you feel that way. When his body began to ache he leaned towards you, resting each of his arms on the side of your head and looking directly at you. You had stopped looking away from him, now you were looking at him with your mouth open with pleasure, your eyes watery and your pupils dilated on your completely flushed cheeks.

“Aegon,” you sobbed pathetically, clouded by everything you were experiencing and proving that it wasn't long before you reached your orgasm.

You had never called him by his name. You always referred to him as «your grace», «prince» or «husband», at best. So hearing his name come out of your lips like that, under those circumstances, was too much for him to bear.

Knowing that he couldn't last much longer, one of his hands moved down to rest his thumb on your clit and once there he began to make erratic circles. You closed your eyes, completely seized by pleasure and a couple more thrusts were enough to make you lose the battle. Hearing your whimpers, combined with the way your walls squeezed him, was enough to make him cum too. With trembling legs you felt the warm liquid filling you and, for the first time, it was comforting.

When Aegon plopped down next to you, you immediately missed his body warmth. Both of you were breathing heavily, trying to catch the breath that the orgasm had taken from you. You could clearly feel your heartbeat bouncing off your bare chest and the stinging sensation coming from your crotch and running through your entire body was something you could get used to. Your hair had stuck to your face from the sweat and not to mention your lips, which you felt were burning from your husband's attention.

Aegon had already had many orgasms in his life so this time he decided to turn his gaze a little to see you enjoying yours. The mere idea that he was responsible for your condition made him completely shake.

“You look beautiful,” he blurted out suddenly. You thought he had heard wrong because of the rush, but from the way he was smiling at you, you highly doubted it. “Just like that”

“Like what?”

“Freshly fucked. Well fucked” he corrected himself.

A laugh bubbled up from within you and you blushed even more, if that was possible, perhaps from the nerves and elation of what had just happened. The man stood up a little from his seat and leaned down to kiss you, although this time he did it with a calm and affection that you never thought you would see in him. It was just that he couldn't deny it anymore; from that moment on he would become an open book for you, where you could see all his feelings, desires and fears.

“I don't know why you're doing this,” you suddenly murmured and Aegon pulled away enough to look at you “And I don't know why you've been acting like this these past few months. But I like it. I think it's a good time for you to know."

“You said I could choose who I am,” he said meekly. One of his hands grabbed your chin and stole another fleeting kiss from you. “I haven't forgotten, every word is present in my head. It's just... sometimes it's hard. And I thought I would have a better chance with you, even with the things I did to you when we got married”

You smiled at him and were happy to know that the change in his behavior was because of the talk you once had with him. If he continued like this, ignoring the demons inside him and trying to be better, then your marriage had a chance to become more than just a condemnation.

Driven by the pleasant feeling growing in your chest you reached out towards him to reward him with a kiss. The man's breath hitched when you pushed him to the side and reversed roles, now you being the one pampering him while he was lying down. There was a playful glint in your husband's eyes as you looked at him.

“Do you know this is the first time you kissed me?” he exhaled softly.

You couldn't believe that was possible and for a few seconds you tried to remember so you could contradict him. But every time you remembered you realized that it was always him who initiated the contact to which you only responded, so, effectively, it was the first kiss you gave him out of conviction.

Maybe it was an omen that something good was coming.

Still happy with how everything had turned out, you snuggled into his side, your head resting on his chest while he hugged you and threw a sheet over your bodies. You planted a hand on his bare skin and began drumming your fingers, alternating with small circles made with the greatest delicacy.

You were silent for a long time, you even thought that your husband had fallen asleep until you heard him speak again:

“It's also the first time I'm doing this.”

“Are you talking about sex, your grace?”

“No, I'm talking about cuddling,” he confessed softly, his hand caressing your back the same way you did with him, “And don't call me your majesty anymore. I am Aegon. Or my prince, at any rate. But my is important”

With the affection worthy of a wife, you raised your head to place a kiss on his cheek and assured him that from now on you would call him that in the privacy of your chambers.

Suddenly, after another moment of silence, Aegon pulled you close to him as if afraid you were going to suddenly evaporate. Intending to calm his fears, you climbed until you were on top of his body, hiding your head in his neck so that the distance became minimal.

There was silence for another couple of minutes.

“Do you think I can ever be forgiven?”

Apparently the atmosphere of the moment had managed to soften the boy's heart.

“We can all be absolved, Aegon.”

"And you?"

"Me what?"

“Do you think you can ever love me?” you were quiet for a second, thinking about your response. Then, he added “Or could you at least try? It would be a nice detail for me. No one has ever done it before.”

Not wanting to ruin the mood with a false word you decided to kiss his neck gently and that was enough of an answer for him. He would have to trust in your goodwill and that he could continue to restrain his impulses to keep this newly discovered gem that was his wife. With some luck you could even be that person he prayed for so much all his life, one with whom he could feel safe.

The slowing of the man's breathing revealed to you that he had already fallen asleep and you discovered that it seemed not so bad to find yourself in that position, sheltered by your lover's arms.

Under that scenario, the idea of eventually loving Prince Aegon Targaryen no longer sounded so far-fetched.

[redroomreflections]

Her Best Secret

1950s Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha and R are having an affair.

Note: I wrote this after watching Mother's Instinct with Anne Hathway and Jessica Chastain. I needed to make it gay. I don't know what this is truly but it's here.

Warnings: Smut and fluff kind of.

Picket fences. Two-and-a-half children. A dog in the yard. A steady job. A house on a quiet street. Nuclear family. Marriage. College. This was what life was about. The checklist of happiness, painted in bright colors and polished to perfection, like the chrome trim on the cars Sam sold so well.

Tonight, it all seemed true. The music drifted out from the open windows of Steve and Natasha’s house, mingling with the scent of freshly cut grass and neighbors' laughter on the patio. The neighborhood had turned out to celebrate Sam’s big promotion—another shiny star on the life everyone was striving for. You stood by the punch bowl, watching as Natasha twirled beneath Steve’s hand in the center of the makeshift dance floor. Her laughter was light and infectious, her cheeks flushed in a way that made her even more stunning under the string lights. She looked happy—effortlessly so.

Your gaze lingered a moment too long before you turned away, your hand brushing absently over the fabric of your dress. Sam was recounting the story of his big sale to an eager group of neighbors somewhere nearby. You could hear his voice rise and fall, full of charisma and charm, the same traits that had swept you off your feet all those years ago.

"Mama, come dance with us," Claire demanded as she tugged on your hand. Your daughter was the perfect mix of the two of you, and she never ceased to make your heart swell. You smiled down at her, smoothing the hair out of her face and taking in her toothy grin.

“In a minute,” you promised, swirling the punch in your glass. “Let me finish this.”

“Okay,” Claire shrugged, already distracted. She launched into her version of the jitterbug as “Why Do Fools Fall In Love” spun on the record player. Her tiny feet shuffled wildly, arms flailing with abandon. It wasn’t quite the jitterbug but hers, and she owned it.

You smiled, watching her. The song brought back memories of Sam. You could almost feel the warmth of his hands around your waist, guiding you through the steps, the two of you laughing and stumbling over each other in the middle of your living room. A good memory.

“It’s a great party, right?” came a voice behind you.

You turned to see Sarah Wilson, her warm smile disarming as always. She was one of those rare people who could make anyone feel at home. Your sister-in-law had been a steady presence in your life, offering unsolicited advice and unwavering support.

“Oh, of course,” you nodded, eyes flicking between Claire’s eclectic moves and Natasha and Steve, who were swaying comfortably in the center of the dance floor. “Everyone seems to be having a good time.”

“Yeah, I’ll say,” Sarah chuckled, nodding toward the dance floor. “I didn’t think Natasha would ever get Steve out there. That man’s all business. But look at them now.”

You smiled into your glass, forcing a little laugh. “They seem like they’re enjoying themselves.”

“Speaking of enjoying,” Sarah said, her tone shifting as her gaze landed on Claire. “Your little one’s a great dancer. She’s got rhythm for sure.”

“Thanks,” you said, feeling a touch of pride.

“Have you two thought about giving her another playmate?” Sarah’s voice was casual, but her eyes gleamed with curiosity.

The question was unexpected, and you took a step back. It was a fair question. Most couples with kids would have more than one. You had known that since the day Claire was born. But the thought of having another child—with Sam, of all people—made your stomach churn.

Sarah was waiting, and you knew her well enough to know that she would keep pressing until you answered.

"Oh, well,” you began, fumbling for an answer, “I’ve been thinking about returning to work. It’s just not the right time for us.”

Sarah arched an eyebrow, a knowing smile spreading across her face. “Work, huh? Well, I’m sure Sam has his own thoughts about that.”

Before you could respond, Sam appeared beside you, his arms wrapping around your waist. “What’s going on here?” he asked, his easy grin softening the tension in your chest.

“Oh, nothing,” Sarah said lightly, though her tone betrayed her nosiness. “We were just talking about Claire’s dancing—and whether she might get a little brother or sister someday.”

Sam glanced at you, his brow lifting in amusement. “Is that so?”

You felt your cheeks warm as you shrugged helplessly.

“She said she’s thinking about returning to work,” Sarah added, her teasing smile turning to him.

Sam chuckled and shook his head. “Come on, Sarah. Leave her alone. She’s got enough on her plate without you playing matchmaker for the kids. If you'll excuse me, I want to dance with my wife."

Sarah rolled her eyes at her brother. Then, with a quick wink to you, she said, "Okay, okay, I can take a hint. But don't go too far. We're doing the fireworks after dinner and need help setting up all the chairs."

Sam took your hand and pulled you out onto the dancefloor, ignoring his sister, twirling you playfully before pulling you close. His eyes shone, and you wondered how much he had had to drink. It didn’t matter. You needed this right now; you needed to feel the warmth of his skin against yours and a distraction from seeing her with him.

"I didn't know you were thinking about returning to work," he said, his eyes searching yours.

"It's been on my mind, yes," You nodded.

"I thought we agreed you didn't need to," He tilted his head slightly. "You'd be leaving Claire with a babysitter or at daycare. We can afford to take care of her ourselves."

"I know, but..." You trailed off.

He grinned down at you, his frown barely noticeable as he leaned closer. “But what?”

You laughed softly, letting him spin you again, your hesitation hidden behind the dance. “I just… I like the idea of doing something for myself again, you know?”

Sam pulled you close, his hand firm at the small of your back. His grin widened, his tone teasing. “You mean besides raising the most beautiful kid in the neighborhood?”

You couldn’t help but smile at his charm. “Exactly,” you quipped, tapping his chest lightly. He pulled you tighter to him.

"I know it's what you want," He whispered. "But you look so beautiful when you're pregnant."

You rolled your eyes. "You're ridiculous, Sam."

"I'm just being honest," He said, his tone light and playful.

"You're drunk, and I'm tired." You tried to pull away, but he held fast, his hands firm on your hips.

"You know you want to," he teased, his breath hot on your ear. Finally, he sighed. "I love you."

"I love you, too," You muttered, closing your eyes as his lips brushed your temple. When he moved to kiss your lips, you didn't pull away. You loved Sam. You really did. You always had.

And yet...

"Okay, lovebirds,” came Natasha’s voice, cutting through the music with playful ease. “Sam, let me take her away. It’s my turn to dance.” She said it with a teasing grin, the kind that made her so easy to like. Natasha, your closest friend, was a familiar presence, one the neighborhood never found threatening.

Sam chuckled, loosening his hold on your waist. “Fine, but don’t wear her out,” he replied with mock seriousness. "I need her tonight."

You pulled away and offered him a polite smile, careful not to meet his gaze.

From the corner of your eye, you caught Sam exchanging a glance with Steve. The two men shrugged, their silent communication as effortless as their friendship. They knew nothing could come between the two of you.

“You alright?” Natasha asked softly, her voice low enough for only you to hear.

“I’m fine,” you replied.

She smiled, her lips curving into that mischievous way of hers, her eyes sparkling like she already knew the truth. “Good. Let’s go find some real fun.”

Before you could respond, she grabbed your arm gently but insistently, steering you off the dance floor and down toward the basement. She fumbled for the light control before pulling the string.

“What are we doing down here?” you asked, a small laugh escaping as she guided you to the landing. "I'm going to twist my ankle."

Natasha continued. “Sometimes a girl needs to breathe,” she said lightly, though there was an undercurrent to her words. "And Steve keeps the good beers down here."

"Well, thank God for Steve," you laughed.

"Amen," Natasha nodded as she rumbled through the deep freeze. "Ah, we only have one."

"We can share it," You shrugged. "We have the best stories, and I think we've earned it."

"Cheers," Natasha said as she raised the can and pulled the tab to open it. She wasn't anticipating the rush of foam that exploded from the top, so she stepped back in horror. Droplets landed on the floor and her dress.

"Oh no," You groaned.

"Shit," She muttered, trying to brush the beer off her front.

"Oh, no. Natasha, I'm so sorry. Come here," You reached for the paper towels on the table and tried to wipe off the beer. "I think I made it worse."

"Yeah, me too," Natasha muttered, frowning as she dabbed at the wet stain. "God, I can't believe this. This is the worst."

You sighed, trying not to laugh. "It's not that bad. Just tell people it's a design feature. Or... or pretend it's a bloodstain. Tell people you got a little violent."

Natasha's laughter bubbled up, and she gave you a playful shove. "Don't joke like that! My blood is supposed to stay on the inside, thank you very much. Also, it's clear, and blood is red."

You chuckled, reaching for the can. "Here, give me some of that."

Natasha relented and watched as you sipped from the can. Her eyes never seemed to leave you.

"So...how's Sam?"

"He's...good."

Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly. "That's it?"

You shrugged. "What do you want me to say? He's...good. Things are good."

"Mmm," she hummed, tilting her head slightly.

"What?" you asked, your voice coming out more defensively than you intended.

"What were you guys talking about?"

"Nothing. It was nothing. Just...work. Stuff. Things. Nothing important."

Natasha pursed her lips, clearly unconvinced. "Uh-huh."

You sighed, trying not to fidget under her stare. "He wants another baby."

Natasha blinked. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"And?"

"And what?"

"How do you feel about it?"

"I don't know," you shrugged. "I mean, I love Claire, and I don't know if we're ready for another baby. And..." You trailed off.

"And?"

"It's just...hard," you admitted quietly. "He's so attentive when I'm pregnant, and I get to spend a lot of time with him, and then when the baby comes, he gets so busy. It's just...hard. And sometimes, I think maybe it would be better if we didn't have any more kids."

"You don't want Claire to have a sibling?" She probed. "Are you guys being careful?"

"By careful, do you mean not letting him finish inside me?"

"Um, yes?"

"Then yes," you confirmed, nodding. "Do you really want to hear the ways Sam and I are practicing safe sex?"

Natasha laughed, the sound soft and low, a private melody just for you. “No, no, I don’t,” she said, shaking her head slightly. She would rather you not sleep with him at all. She sighed, the corners of her mouth tugging downward, then licked her lips—a slow, deliberate motion that drew your attention, as it always did. That shade of red was your favorite on her, and she knew it.

Her green eyes met yours, steady and probing. “Are you happy?”

The question hit you like a stray gust of wind, sudden and disarming.

“Of course,” you replied, the words tumbling out too fast, too practiced. “Why wouldn’t I be happy?”

Natasha raised a single, elegant eyebrow, the expression laced with skepticism. “Because I can tell when you’re lying,” she said plainly, her tone cutting through your defenses like a knife through butter.

Your shoulders slumped slightly as you leaned against the countertop. The calm surface grounded you, though it couldn’t stop the swirl of emotions rising in your chest. “It’s just hard sometimes,” you admitted quietly, almost to yourself.

Her gaze softened, the sharp edges of her wit giving way to something warmer, something more tender. “Yeah, I know,” she murmured.

She set down the beer can she’d been holding, the metallic clink almost imperceptible under the weight of her words. Her fingers drummed on the countertop; the rhythm was uneven, nearly hesitant, as if her thoughts were tangled in the silence between you. The crimson polish on her nails caught the dim light, matching the glow in her eyes as she studied you.

“Sometimes,” she began, her voice barely audible, “I think we forget we’re allowed to want more.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the implication hanging like unspoken truths. You glanced back toward the stairs, where laughter and music blasted above you, but it felt a world away from this moment.

“And what if we can’t have more?” you asked, your voice trembling just enough to betray the depth of the question.

Natasha’s lips curved into a faint, bittersweet smile. “Then maybe we take what we can get,” she said softly, her eyes never leaving yours. Before you could respond, Natasha's lips were on yours. Soft. Warm. Inviting. Her arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, and you could feel the heat radiating from her body.

A quiet moan escaped her, muffled against your mouth, and you could taste the sweetness of the beer lingering on her tongue. You closed your eyes, losing yourself in the warmth of her touch, in the familiar scent of her perfume. Your mind raced, and yet your thoughts were perfectly still. Her body was so different. Her touch was so different.

A loud thump, followed by the unmistakable sound of laughter, cut through the air. Then a cry and a scream of "Mama" followed. Natasha pulled away quickly, her face flushed, her breathing uneven. You glanced at the ceiling, the spell between you broken. That was the cry of your child.

"I should probably go and check on her," You said while Natasha spoke.

"We should probably get back," Natasha murmured.

You nodded, unable to meet her eyes. Wiping your mouth, you glanced back at her before heading upstairs.

*****

You could smell the firecrackers before you saw them, the sharp scent of smoke mingling with the sweet smell of hamburgers grilling. Claire sat in your lap, the three-year-old tired and sleepy from all the excitement. You couldn't blame her after the day chasing the other kids around the house.

Claire leaned her head against your chest, her eyes heavy with sleep. You rubbed her back absently, smiling at how her small hand curled around yours.

The sky was dark, but the backyard was lit by the string lights draped over the trees and the fireworks in the sky. You were amazed at how she could sleep through this. Sam sat next to you in the grass, his arms wrapped around your waist and his hands rubbing your side. He felt at home.

Briefly, you could see a flash of the light catching across a couple, and your eyes moved towards them. It was Natasha and Steve. He stood almost a foot taller than her, his arms wrapped around her midsection as she leaned back into his chest. They looked comfortable like they belonged together. How their bodies seemed to mold into each other was the kind of thing romance novels talked about.

They were so beautiful together.

The thought made you uneasy.

Sam leaned over and whispered in your ear, his breath warm on your skin. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," you murmured, leaning into him. "Just a bit tired. She's a heavy sleeper."

He chuckled softly, his hand reaching up to caress your cheek. His thumb brushed your skin, and you closed your eyes, enjoying the sensation.

"You know, it's our anniversary tomorrow," He said, his tone casual, but the meaning behind his words clear.

"Oh," you said, trying to keep the surprise out of your voice.

"Yeah, five years," he smiled.

"Wow, I can't believe it's been that long," you admitted.

"Me neither," he grinned, kissing your lips softly. You couldn't see Natasha's eyes on the two of you.

Sam looked up and noticed the fireworks lighting the sky. He nudged Claire and whispered, "Come on, sweetheart. You're going to miss the fireworks."

Claire lifted her head, blinking blearily. "No, Daddy. I'm sleepy," she whined.

"Come on, pumpkin. Let's watch the show," Sam coaxed, his voice gentle and coaxing. Claire groaned softly but let Sam lift her into his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder, her tiny hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. “Alright, pumpkin,” he said with a chuckle, “just for a little while.”

You watched them walk toward the edge of the patio, where the first bursts of fireworks lit up the night sky. Claire’s sleepy eyes reflected the vibrant colors as she yawned against her daddy's chest.

Five years. It was a long time. You'd built a life together. One you were proud of. One you were comfortable with.

Your eyes drifted to the couple again, and your chest tightened. Natasha and Steve looked so natural together. So at ease. And then there was you, feeling like an imposter. You weren’t the girl Sam fell in love with anymore. You weren't the one who wanted all the same things he did. And you couldn't tell him. You couldn't shatter his image of you.

Sam whispered something into Claire's ear, lifting her head to look at you.

"Mama, come watch."

"In a minute, baby," you called, your voice thick with emotion.

You swallowed hard, trying to fight back the tears. How could you be so selfish? Sam had given you everything. He had given you Claire. You were blessed, yet you couldn't seem content with what you had.

Natasha echoed in your mind: Sometimes we forget we're allowed to want more.

*************

Tuesdays were sacred. At exactly 12:30, without fail, Natasha would appear at your front door, her heels clicking softly against the pavement as she walked the three doors down. By the time the clock struck the half-hour, you would already have the kettle whistling on the stove and the good china laid out.

It started as a casual thing—a neighborly gesture during those quiet, lonesome afternoons when the house felt too big and Sam was at work. But over time, it became something more. A ritual. A promise.

This Tuesday was no different. You were finishing the vacuuming when you heard Claire shriek with laughter from the living room. You smiled to yourself, knowing what that meant.

You rounded the corner, the vacuum still humming, and saw Claire spinning in circles as Natasha crouched down to her level, a broad smile on her perfectly painted red lips.

“She’s getting good at this,” Natasha teased, catching Claire mid-spin and lifting her off the ground.

“Too good,” you replied, switching off the vacuum and leaning against the doorway. “She’s going to join the circus at this rate.”

Natasha laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. Her gaze traveled to the hallway and the bags of groceries waiting by the front door.

"Let me help," She said, setting Claire back on the floor.

"Thanks," you murmured, grabbing the nearest bag. "I don't know why I let Sam talk me into doing this today."

"Probably the same reason I let Steve convince me to get the new patio furniture," Natasha chuckled, following you into the kitchen.

"He can be persuasive, can't he?"

"Yeah, yeah, he can," She agreed, her tone wistful.

"It's not a bad thing," You said, placing the bags on the counter.

"Tasha, come play," Claire begged.

"In a minute, little one," Natasha promised. Claire nodded and rushed back into the den with her toys.

"How about some tea?" You offered.

"You read my mind," Natasha smiled.

You took the teapot from the cupboard and filled it with water, watching as the steam rose from the spout. Your thoughts drifted back to that night in the basement, and you wondered if Natasha felt the same. There had been many nights like that. Many shared kisses. Shared looks. You think back to that night months again when you'd given her her first orgasm at the hands of a woman.

It was a moment that changed things. It was the moment you knew you were done pretending.

"I'm glad we have this," Natasha murmured.

"Tea?"

"No, silly. Time." She turned to look at you, her green eyes softening. "I'm glad we have this. This friendship."

You couldn't help but smile. "Me, too."

"So," Natasha said, leaning against the counter and folding her arms over her chest, "how are things going with you and Sam?"

You shrugged. "Good."

"That's all you're going to give me?" She prodded, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"There's not much to tell," you admitted.

"You guys had an anniversary a few nights ago," Natasha reminded you.

"Do we discuss the juicy details like that still?"

Natasha hesitated, then shook her head. "No, but I'm asking because I care about you, and I know Sam has been a bit persistent about the baby thing."

You sighed, turning back to the stove. You were silent.

"I'm sorry," Natasha said quietly. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No, no, it's fine," you assured her. "It's just..."

"Just what?"

"Nothing."

"Hey, it's just me," Natasha reminded you gently, reaching out to touch your arm. "You can tell me anything."

You hesitated, then blurted out, "What are we doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Us," you said, gesturing between the two of you. "What are we doing? Is this just a...thing?"

Natasha blinked, her expression unreadable. "A thing?"

"Yeah, like, I don't know, an escape or something," you tried to explain. "Like, a distraction."

Natasha shook her head slowly. "No, no, I wouldn't say that."

"Then what would you say?"

"I'd say that I enjoy spending time with you. I'd say that you're a beautiful, smart, funny woman, and I'm lucky to call you a friend."

"But what does that mean?"

Natasha stepped closer, her hand moving from your arm to the small of your back. Her gaze never left yours, her eyes searching for an answer to a question she couldn't quite voice.

"It means that I care about you," she said softly. "And if you ever need a distraction, I'm here."

"What if I don't want a distraction?" You breathed.

"What do you want?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You didn't answer. Instead, you pulled her across the kitchen to the laundry room. You left the door open to hear Claire in case she needed you. In an instant, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to hers, kissing her like it was the last time.

She kissed you back, her hands resting on your neck, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. Her tongue parted your lips, and you tasted the sweetness of her breath. Her hands moved lower, sliding over your curves, and you moaned softly against her mouth.

"Tasha," You gasped as her fingers traced the waistband of your jeans, her touch burning hot against your skin.

She broke the kiss, her eyes dark and hooded. "Yes?"

"I want you."

"I'm yours."

Her lips crashed against yours, and her hands fumbled with the button of your jeans, her touch making your skin tingle.

"Tasha, we can't Claire's here." You reminded her between kisses.

"She's playing," Natasha muttered, her fingers finally popping the button. Before either of you could ponder her statement, the front door opened. In a flash, Natasha was in the kitchen, pushing the rest of the groceries into the fridge as you attempted to gather your bearings. She was so fast.

"Hello?" Sam's voice called from the foyer.

"We're in the kitchen," You answered, closing the laundry room door and ensuring it was locked.

Sam walked into the kitchen, his suit jacket draped over his arm and his tie loosened. "Hey," he smiled. "I thought I'd surprise you guys."

"Well, it worked," Natasha laughed.

"Sorry, I forgot my lunch. I'll grab it and head out," Sam said, moving past the two of you. He glanced between you, his gaze lingering on your face.

"I'm going to finish the dishes," You murmured, turning away.

Sam stopped and frowned. "Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," you lied, forcing a smile. "Just feeling a little tired."

"You should rest," Sam stepped closer to you. "Have a cup of tea?

"I will."

"Good," Sam leaned forward and kissed your cheek. "Love you."

"I love you too," You said, the words coming out automatically. Sam lingered, landing another sweet kiss on your lips.

Natasha looked over her shoulder at you, her expression unreadable. "Sam, before you go, can I ask a favor?"

"Of course."

"Can I borrow a screwdriver? We're working on the deck chairs, and one of the bolts keeps slipping," She explained, her voice surprisingly steady.

"Sure, no problem," Sam said, digging through a drawer. He pulled out a screwdriver and handed it to Natasha. "Here you go."

"Thanks," Natasha smiled. "Oh, and before I forget, I'll have those pictures of Claire for you next week."

"Thanks," Sam replied. "And thanks for keeping them company."

"My pleasure," Natasha grinned.

"Okay, I'm heading back out. See you later, baby," Sam kissed you once more before disappearing into the foyer. The front door opened, then shut, leaving the house strangely empty.

"That was close," Natasha said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. "Yeah, it was," you agreed. "But it was worth it."

"Do you regret it?"

"No," you said without hesitation.

"Me neither," She murmured, stepping closer.

You leaned into her, resting your head against her chest, listening to the steady beat of her heart. "Tasha?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being there. For being my friend. For just being...you."

Natasha hugged you, her arms wrapping around your waist and her chin resting on your head. "Anytime," she said softly, and you knew she meant it.

*****

Drive-In Night was interesting. It's a couple's night, truly. The four of you would get together and watch whatever movie was playing. This time, it was How to Marry A Millionaire. You all piled into Steve’s car, a vintage Chevy that seemed as timeless as its owner. It was a tight fit, but no one complained. The air buzzed with the crowd's excitement as headlights flickered across the makeshift parking lot of the drive-in theater.

Natasha sat into the passenger seat, leaning her elbow out the window, her eyes scanning the packed lot with a subtle smirk. “I’m impressed, Rogers. Didn’t think you’d show up for something so… pink.”

Steve laughed, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “What can I say? I’m broadening my horizons.”

From the backseat, you chuckled. “You mean Natasha dragged you here, didn’t she?”

“Guilty,” Steve admitted, glancing sideways at Natasha, who simply shrugged. “Besides, it’s not like Sam and I had a choice.”

Sam, beside you, snorted. “Yeah, yeah. Real gentlemen, right?” He stretched his arm along the back of the seat, pulling you closer. “But hey, don’t think I’m above enjoying a rom-com. I’ve got range.”

Natasha tilted her head back, laughing. “Sure, Wilson. You’ll be crying by the second act.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Sam fired back, grinning.

You rolled your eyes fondly. They constantly bickered like this, but it was good-natured. You could tell they were friends. Real friends.

The movie began, and the warm glow of the screen washed over the car. The plot unfolded with charm, full of meet-cutes, sassy best friends, and conveniently timed rainstorms. It wasn’t bad, but you couldn’t help but notice Sam shifting every so often, clearly restless.

“Alright,” Sam announced midway through a particularly swoony montage. “Steve, snacks?”

Steve glanced at Natasha, who was far too engrossed in the movie to notice him leaving. “Yeah, good idea. You girls want anything?”

You and Natasha exchanged a look. “Popcorn,” you both said in unison.

Sam and Steve left the car, their silhouettes fading into the crowd as they made their way to the concession stand. Moving closer to the front seat, you shifted and settled comfortably against the backrest.

Natasha glanced over her shoulder, a smile playing on her lips.

You smiled back.

The moment passed.

"You're so far away," You whispered.

"I know," she whispered back, her eyes sparkling in the dim light. "Come closer," She whispered. You climbed into the front seat, quickly glancing at the long concession line.

"Is this better?" You asked, settling in.

"Much," she said, reaching up and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

Your breath caught in your throat.

"You're cute," She said. What she was doing was risky business. While it was dark, anyone with eyes and the guts to look your way could see.

"So are you," You responded.

"I want to kiss you."

"You do?"

"I do."

"I want to fuck you," She said.

Your heart hammered in your chest, the heat between your thighs growing with each passing second. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You leaned in. Her hand rested on your thigh, rubbing you through your skirt. "Tasha," you whimpered.

"Yes, kitten," she whispered.

"We can't"

"Why not?"

"It's too risky."

"No one's looking."

"What about Sam and Steve?"

"They're at the concession stand. And the movie is loud."

"But what if someone hears?"

"We'll be quiet."

"We've never been quiet," You giggled.

"We'll try," she whispered. She knew she didn't have much time. She needed this to happen and fast. Her hand slipped under your skirt, and she felt the dampness of your panties.

"Jesus, you're soaked."

"I can't help it."

"Neither can I."

She slid her hand down, pushed your panties aside, and plunged her fingers inside you. Your hips bucked, and you bit back a moan.

"So tight," She moaned.

"So good," You whimpered. She was an expert by now. She knew your body well and learned how to make you cum.

She fucked you hard and fast, her fingers hitting all the right spots. She was gentle while somehow being able to get you there so quickly. You couldn't moan or tell her how close you were. You couldn't even thrust into her fingers. You could only sit there and take it. Your face remained natural even as you closed your eyes. The pleasure was too intense, and you wanted to focus on it. You wanted to savor every second.

When you came, you bit down on your lip, drawing blood. Natasha watched you come undone under her hand.

"You are perfect," She whispered, leaning in and kissing your cheek. You were a trembling mess.

"Tasha," You breathed, trying to catch your breath.

"I can't wait to do that again," She said.

"Me too."

She kissed your cheek once more before sitting back.

You were her best secret.

[callsigns-haze]

Greatest treasure part 2

Summary: Eris, has been High Lord of Autumn for quite some time now, his son Azer who basically started his alliance with the Night Court is not an adorable three year old anymore but a minature version of him at the age of seventeen. Not only that but you two have a daughter now who is the flame in every situation. Eris keeps his alliances close to hear causing future meetings and drama.

Warning: Contains alcohol, cursing, teasing, mentions of smut, kissing, court politics, mentions of war, distress.

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x reader

English is not my first language

18k words

This will be continued into a part 3

PART 1

14 Years Later

The Autumn Court had changed in ways no one could have predicted. What was once a kingdom shrouded in fear and cruelty had flourished under Eris’s reign. The court, though still sharp-edged and strong, had softened in places—particularly where its High Lord’s family was concerned.

Everyone knew now that Eris Vanserra had a soft spot. It wasn’t something he would ever admit outright, but the evidence was undeniable. His people had witnessed it in the way he looked at his wife, his unwavering devotion written in every lingering glance and fleeting touch. They saw it in the way he ruled—with a balance of fire and fairness, always ensuring his court’s prosperity. But more than anything, they saw it in his children.

Azer, now seventeen, was the perfect blend of his parents. He had Eris’s sharp features, his golden eyes, and his burning ambition. But he had your heart—the steady kindness you’d nurtured in him since he was small, the ability to wield fire not just with power, but with control. He was already well-known within the court, training among the finest warriors, his magic nearly as refined as his father’s. But his love for his family remained his greatest strength.

And then there was Avey. Seven years old, with her father’s striking hair and your soft smile, she had Eris wrapped around her little finger. While Azer had been kept secret for the first years of his life, Avey had been introduced to the court as soon as she was born—her presence a symbol of the new era Eris had brought. She was fierce, stubborn, and far too smart for her age, often found trailing after her brother and demanding to be included in whatever he was doing.

Tonight, the Vanserra family stood at the edge of the ballroom once more. Another gathering, another political affair—this one a celebration of Azer’s upcoming formal initiation into the court as its heir. It was a mere formality, as everyone already knew Azer would one day take his father’s place, but still, it was tradition.

Eris stood tall, his crown gleaming in the candlelight, his hand resting at the small of your back. Across the room, Lucien stood beside Helion, both watching the night unfold with an amused sort of ease. Avey, dressed in a deep autumnal red, clung to her brother’s arm, her face scrunched in frustration.

“This is boring,” she declared, crossing her arms over her chest.

Azer snorted, glancing down at her. “Did you come just to complain the whole night?”

“Yes,” she replied without hesitation.

Eris smirked, watching their exchange with quiet amusement. “She gets that from you,” he murmured under his breath to you.

You raised an eyebrow. “She gets that from you.”

Before he could argue, Avey tugged at Azer’s sleeve again. “Can we go now?”

“You can go,” he said with a shrug. “I have to stay.”

Avey pouted, looking up at you. “Mama?”

You shook your head with a smile. “Not this time, love.”

She huffed dramatically before turning to her father, her eyes big and pleading. “Daddy?”

Eris sighed, ruffling her curls. “You’re lucky I like you,” he murmured, bending down so they were at eye level. “Go find Lucien. He’ll take you to get something sweet.”

Her entire face lit up, and she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before darting off toward her uncle, who caught her easily before she could barrel into him.

You leaned into Eris’s side, watching her go. “You really are soft.”

He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “Don’t spread that around.”

Azer, who had been watching the exchange with mild amusement, took a sip of his drink. “Everyone already knows.”

Eris shot him a look, but there was no real heat behind it. “Just wait until you have children,” he muttered.

Azer choked slightly on his drink. “Let’s not talk about that.”

You laughed softly, taking Eris’s hand in yours. The room was full of people, of noble houses and political figures, but here, in this small circle of warmth, it was just the four of you. The High Lord and Lady of Autumn, their fiery heir, and the little girl who had softened them all.

Yes, everything had changed. But for the first time in a long time, it was exactly as it should be.

As the night stretched on, the ballroom buzzed with energy. Laughter, conversation, and the occasional clash of goblets filled the air. Azer stood at the centre of it all, the young heir of the Autumn Court, poised and commanding in a way that was almost eerie. He wore his title well, just as Eris had trained him to. But beneath the weight of expectation, there was still the boy who had once clung to your gown and declared balls to be “boring.”

You watched him from the sidelines, Eris standing beside you with a goblet in hand. “He carries himself like a High Lord already,” you mused, eyes following your son as he engaged in polite conversation with one of the noble families.

Eris hummed, tilting his head slightly. “That’s because he’s been raised for this. But he’s still got fire in him—just like his mother.”

You smirked, nudging his side. “That fire got me in plenty of trouble.”

“And yet,” he murmured, bringing your hand to his lips, “it’s the reason I fell for you.”

Before you could reply, a flash of red darted through the room—Avey, running full speed toward Azer. You barely had time to open your mouth before she jumped onto a chair beside him and tugged on his sleeve.

“Azer,” she hissed, attempting to whisper but failing miserably.

Azer sighed, turning toward her with an amused expression. “What?”

She cupped her hands around her mouth dramatically. “Uncle Lucien let me have three pastries.”

Azer blinked. “And you came all the way across the room just to tell me that?”

She nodded sagely. “Yes.”

He fought back a grin, shaking his head. “I hope you get a stomach-ache.”

Avey gasped, smacking his arm. “Mama! Azer’s being mean to me.”

You stepped forward, arms crossed. “Maybe he wouldn’t be so mean if you weren’t interrupting an important conversation.”

Avey pursed her lips, then turned to the noble family still standing nearby. “Was it an important conversation?” she asked sweetly.

The lady blinked, thrown off. “Um… yes?”

Avey turned back to Azer with a victorious look. “Sounds boring.”

The entire exchange had Eris pinching the bridge of his nose, exhaling heavily. “We cannot take her anywhere.”

Lucien appeared behind you, grinning as he leaned against a pillar. “Oh, come on. She keeps things interesting.”

“You let her have three pastries?” Eris shot him a glare.

Lucien shrugged. “You let her wrap you around her little finger, so I figured, why fight it?”

Avey, thrilled by the chaos she was causing, looked between the adults and took Azer’s hand. “Come on! I wanna dance.”

Azer groaned. “No—”

But Avey was already pulling him toward the dance floor.

You leaned into Eris, laughing softly. “She’s going to rule us all one day.”

Eris sighed, but there was a proud smile tugging at his lips. “I fear she already does.”

Azer let out a long-suffering sigh, but he didn't fight it when Avey yanked him toward the dance floor. Her little hands gripped his much larger ones as she practically dragged him between the other dancing couples, weaving through nobles who stepped aside with amused glances. He towered over her, his formal attire sharp and crisp, a stark contrast to Avey's tiny form in her autumn-red dress. She was beaming, her excitement palpable.

Azer looked down at her, shaking his head. "You're too small for this."

"I'm not small," she huffed. "You're just freakishly tall."

His lips twitched, but he crouched down, gripping her waist and lifting her onto the tops of his boots. "There," he muttered. "Now you can actually keep up."

Avey gasped in delight as he straightened, her feet now resting firmly on his. She gripped his hands tighter, already bouncing with excitement. "This is so much better!"

Azer rolled his eyes but started moving, guiding her into the rhythm of the music. It was slow, steady, nothing too complicated—he wasn’t about to spin her around like their father did with their mother. But it was enough to make her giggle, her curls bouncing with every small step.

The ballroom had grown quieter, people pausing to watch. Not in judgment, not in ridicule, but in something softer. Something fonder. The heir of Autumn, the sharp and poised young warrior, dancing with his little sister like it was the most important thing in the world.

Avey, unaware of their audience, tilted her head back and beamed up at him. “This is way better than sitting around listening to boring people talk.”

Azer scoffed. “You’re the one who wanted to come.”

She grinned, utterly unapologetic. “And now I want to dance.”

He rolled his eyes again, but he spun them both in a slow circle, her laughter ringing out like bells. She clung to his hands as he picked up the pace, letting her lean into his movements, her feet never once touching the floor. She was weightless, free, like a little flame flickering in the breeze.

Across the room, Eris watched with unreadable eyes. His grip on your waist tightened just slightly, and when you looked up at him, you found a softness there—one he rarely let show.

“She’s going to be trouble,” he murmured, voice rich with something almost affectionate.

You smiled. “She already is.”

Lucien, standing beside you both, let out a low chuckle. “That one will bring this court to its knees one day.”

Eris exhaled, rubbing his temple. “Let’s hope it’s not anytime soon.”

But despite his words, his gaze never left his children. The son who had grown into a leader before his very eyes, the daughter who had him wrapped around her little finger. And for all the fire and power he wielded, this was what he had built. This was what he had fought for.

Azer, utterly defeated by his sister’s relentless enthusiasm, lifted her up entirely, spinning her once before setting her down again. Avey squealed, her laughter unbridled, echoing through the grand hall.

Avey was still giggling when Azer finally set her down, her tiny hands gripping his sleeves as she tried to regain her balance. Her curls were a wild mess from all the spinning, her cheeks flushed with excitement. Azer steadied her with a sigh, his hands still resting on her shoulders.

"You good?" he asked, arching a brow.

Avey grinned up at him, her eyes sparkling. "Again."

Azer groaned. "Absolutely not."

She pouted. "But—"

"Nope." He tapped her nose, smirking as she scrunched her face. "Go bother Uncle Lucien or something."

Avey gasped, whipping around to find Lucien across the room. "That’s a great idea!" And just like that, she took off running, dodging between nobles without a care.

Azer exhaled, scrubbing a hand over his face as he turned back toward the main table. He spotted you and Eris still watching him, both of you with expressions he didn’t quite like—proud, knowing. His scowl deepened.

"What?" he muttered as he strode up to you both.

You tilted your head, sipping your wine. "Nothing."

Eris hummed, swirling his drink in his hand. "You’re a good brother."

Azer huffed. "Don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain."

Lucien returned then, looking mildly exhausted as he held a very squirmy Avey in his arms. "She caught me," he sighed. "How do you two keep up with this one?"

"We don’t," you said flatly. "She keeps up with us."

Avey wriggled out of Lucien’s hold, landing with a small hop before throwing herself at Eris, wrapping her arms around his waist. He barely budged at the impact, glancing down at her with an arched brow.

"Tired already?" he asked, amusement lacing his tone.

Avey clung tighter, peeking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "No," she chirped. "But I need a break before I challenge Azer to a rematch."

Azer groaned, throwing his head back. "You have to be joking."

Eris snorted, ruffling Avey’s hair before looking at his son. "I think she’s serious."

Azer shot him a flat look. "You let this happen."

Eris only smirked, sipping his wine. "And I’d do it again."

Lucien clapped a hand on Azer’s shoulder, grinning. "Welcome to the rest of your life, kid."

Azer muttered something under his breath, but there was no real frustration in his tone—just exasperated fondness.

You watched them all—Eris, your son, your daughter, Lucien. The family you had built. The warmth of it settled deep in your chest, filling every part of you with something unshakable, something eternal.

Azer crouched down beside Avey, his sharp golden eyes glinting with mischief as he leaned in close. His sister, still catching her breath from all the dancing, barely noticed at first—until he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear, “Do you wanna ditch?”

Avey’s head snapped up, her curls bouncing as she turned to him, eyes wide with curiosity. “Ditch?” she echoed, voice barely above a whisper.

Azer smirked, nodding slightly toward the open balcony doors, where the cool night air drifted in. Outside, the gardens stretched into the dark, a maze of trees and lantern-lit paths just waiting to be explored.

“You’re always complaining about boring parties,” he murmured. “Thought you might want a little adventure.”

Avey bit her lip, glancing between him and the ballroom. Their parents were now engaged in conversation, Eris watching the room like a hawk, their mother speaking quietly to Lucien. No one was looking their way this very second.

Her fingers twitched against the fabric of her dress. “Where would we go?”

Azer’s grin widened. “Anywhere but here.”

Avey hesitated—only for a second. Then, with a sly little smile, she nodded.

Azer didn’t waste another moment. In one swift motion, he scooped her up, one arm locking around her waist as he rose to his full height. She barely managed to stifle a squeal, gripping onto him as he adjusted his hold.

“Shhh,” he hushed, his voice laced with laughter. “Do you want to get caught?”

Avey smacked his shoulder lightly. “I am perfectly capable of sneaking, you know.”

“Sure you are.” Azer shot her a knowing look before glancing toward the exit again, scanning the room for any watchful gazes. When he was certain they were in the clear, he whispered, “Hold on tight, little fox.”

The moment Azer stepped onto the balcony, the cool night air wrapped around them, carrying the scent of rain-soaked earth and the lingering embers of the torches lining the garden paths. The storm had passed, leaving behind a dampness that clung to the stone beneath his boots.

Avey wiggled in his arms, her small hands clutching his shoulder as she whispered urgently, “Put me down! We’ll be faster if I run too.”

Azer huffed but complied, setting her gently on her feet. The moment her toes touched the ground, she grabbed his wrist and yanked him toward the steps leading into the garden.

“Come on!” she urged in a hushed giggle, her bare feet barely making a sound as she darted forward.

Azer kept pace easily, letting her think she was leading him as they weaved through the lantern-lit paths. The hedges were still dripping from the earlier rain, the scent of damp leaves and flowers heavy in the air. Their footsteps were muted against the softened ground, blending into the rustling of the trees overhead.

“Where exactly are we going?” Azer finally asked as Avey pulled him through a narrow archway covered in autumn-coloured vines.

She glanced over her shoulder, grinning. “Anywhere but here, remember?”

Azer rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the smirk tugging at his lips. “If you get me into trouble—”

“Oh, please.” Avey waved a dismissive hand. “I’m the youngest. You’d get in trouble, not me.”

Azer let out a short laugh. “Unbelievable.”

They slipped deeper into the gardens, the warm glow of the ballroom fading behind them. The air was still damp, the scent of wet stone mixing with the crisp freshness of the night. Avey twirled ahead of him, arms outstretched as if she could catch the remnants of the storm in her fingertips.

For a moment, they were just two shadows moving through the night, laughter barely contained as they ran through the maze of hedges and stone paths. No court, no politics, no expectations—just freedom.

Just them.

Avey let out a breathless giggle as she grabbed Azer’s hand and yanked him toward the deeper part of the gardens, where the trees grew thicker and the paths turned uneven. The moon hung low in the sky, casting silver light over the damp leaves as they ran, their feet barely making a sound against the softened earth.

“Faster!” she whispered, shooting him a mischievous grin.

Azer groaned dramatically but picked up his pace, his longer strides easily keeping up with her frantic energy. She was quick—quicker than most would expect—but he’d always been faster. Still, he let her drag him along, her small fingers gripping his wrist like she was leading some grand escape.

The scent of rain still clung to the air, mingling with the rich, earthy scent of the lake as they neared. The closer they got, the louder the water became—calm but steady, lapping at the edges of the rocky shoreline. The path opened up suddenly, the last of the hedges parting to reveal the lake stretched wide before them, smooth as glass beneath the moonlight.

Avey skidded to a stop at the edge, her toes just shy of the damp stones lining the shore. Azer nearly crashed into her, catching himself at the last second as he ruffled her curls.

“We’re soaked already,” he muttered, glancing down at the mud clinging to the hem of his pants. “I don’t know why I let you think of this.”

Avey grinned, stepping onto the nearest flat stone jutting out into the lake. “Because you love me.”

Azer rolled his eyes but said nothing.

The water shimmered, reflecting the night sky like a fractured mirror. Avey crouched, dipping her fingers into the cold surface, sending tiny ripples across the lake. She looked over her shoulder at Azer, her smile turning sly.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he warned.

Avey’s grin widened.

And then—she splashed him.

Azer stared at the water droplets now dripping from his sleeve. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to her, feigning betrayal. “Oh, you are dead.”

Avey squealed, scrambling to her feet just as Azer lunged. She barely managed to dodge, her laughter echoing through the trees as she sprinted down the shore, her older brother right behind her.

-----

The warmth of Eris’s arms wrapped around your waist before you even saw him coming. His presence was unmistakable—the heat that always radiated from him, the scent of cedar and smoke clinging to his skin. He pulled you flush against his chest, his grip firm yet lazy, as if he had all the time in the world to simply hold you.

His lips found the curve of your neck first, the kiss slow, lingering, before trailing up to just behind your ear. The heat of his breath sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt the ghost of a smirk against your skin.

“You disappeared on me,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, meant for you and you alone.

Your hands covered his where they rested against your stomach, fingers idly tracing along the veins of his wrists. “I needed a moment. The wine was helping.”

Eris chuckled, the sound vibrating against your back. “Drinking to survive my company, sweetheart?”

You tilted your head slightly, giving him more access as his lips brushed just beneath your jaw. “Drinking to survive this entire night.”

He hummed in amusement, his fingers pressing a little firmer against your stomach as he rocked you gently in place, swaying slightly in the dimly lit ballroom. The music played on, couples dancing in elegant circles, but in this moment, with his arms locked around you, the rest of the world felt distant.

His nose grazed your ear as he whispered, “You’ve been so patient, putting up with all these strangers, all these dull conversations. Should I reward you for your suffering?”

Your lips twitched. “And what exactly do you have in mind, my love?”

Eris pressed one last slow kiss just beneath your ear, then murmured, “Dance with me.”

It wasn’t a request.

Eris didn’t wait for your answer—he simply took your hand, spinning you in one smooth motion before pulling you onto the dance floor. His other hand found the small of your back, guiding you effortlessly into the rhythm of the music.

The ballroom’s golden light flickered in his sharp amber eyes, but his focus was entirely on you. His grip was steady, his movements precise, as if he wasn’t just dancing but claiming you in front of everyone. You let yourself sink into the moment, into the warmth of him, the way his fingers pressed lightly against your spine, the way his thumb traced idle circles against the back of your hand.

“See?” he murmured, his voice nothing more than a low hum between you. “Not all of tonight has to be dreadful.”

You let out a soft huff, though your lips twitched. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”

Eris smirked, leaning down just enough so that his breath ghosted across your cheek. “Dancing with my wife? I’d be a fool not to.”

His confidence was infuriating—and devastatingly effective. You let him lead you across the floor, the two of you moving as if you had done this a thousand times before. His warmth, his scent, the way his fingers tightened just slightly around your waist when you moved too far—it was enough to make the rest of the ballroom blur into nothing.

But then—something itched at the back of your mind. A sense of wrongness, an absence that shouldn’t have gone unnoticed for so long.

You blinked, pulling back slightly to glance around the room. Your gaze skimmed over the crowd, searching, searching—

And then it hit you.

“Azer and Avey,” you said suddenly, your voice sharper than before. “Where are they?”

Eris barely faltered, but you felt the way his grip tightened just a fraction. His expression didn’t change immediately, but you knew him well enough to see the flicker of realization in his eyes. He turned his head slightly, scanning the ballroom as if he could will them into appearing.

Your stomach twisted. You hadn’t seen them in—how long had it been? Too long. A sick feeling curled in your chest as you whispered, “Eris—”

“I know.” His voice was calm.

-----

Avey let out a high-pitched shriek as Azer’s arms finally locked around her waist. She had tried to escape—kicking, twisting, even scrambling onto the rocks at the lake’s edge—but her older brother was faster, stronger, and far too determined.

“Azer! No—no, no, no—”

Her protests were cut off by a triumphant laugh as he lifted her off the ground, her legs flailing wildly in the air.

“You’ve been asking for this all night, little fox,” Azer teased, his grip firm despite her desperate attempts to wiggle free. “What kind of big brother would I be if I didn’t give you what you wanted?”

“I don’t want it!” she screeched, grabbing at his wrists, but it was useless.

Azer stepped into the water, the cold sending a brief shudder up his spine as it rushed over his boots. Avey, sensing her doom, clung to him like a cat avoiding a bath.

“Azer, NO, I will—”

She never got to finish her threat.

With a sharp twist, Azer spun and dropped her into the lake.

Avey hit the water with a splash, the sound echoing through the quiet night.

For a second, there was only silence. Then—

“You absolute—” Avey’s head broke the surface, her soaked curls plastered to her face as she gasped. “You are dead!”

Azer howled with laughter, doubling over as his sister splashed furiously at him. Her small hands sent waves of water sloshing against his legs, but he barely flinched.

“I warned you,” he taunted, stepping back just as Avey lunged for him.

She missed, sputtering as she pushed her soaked curls from her eyes. The water was up to her shoulders now, her dress clinging uncomfortably, but that wasn’t about to stop her.

Azer grinned down at her, hands on his hips. “You look like a drowned kitten.”

Avey narrowed her eyes. “You,” she seethed, “are the worst brother in the entire world.”

Avey, soaked to the bone and shivering, let out an ear-piercing squeal as she kicked forward, sending a wave of lake water straight at her brother.

Azer barely had time to shield himself before the cold water splashed against his chest. He gasped in mock offense, shaking out his arms as he glared at his little sister. “Oh, now you want to play dirty?”

Avey stuck her tongue out at him, her small hands pushing against the water as she tried to wade toward him, her movements clumsy but determined. “You deserve it, you big, mean bully!” she huffed, still struggling to get her soaked curls out of her face.

Azer crossed his arms, smirking. “You say that now, but you’ll be laughing about this by morning.”

Avey puffed out her cheeks, her big, golden-amber eyes narrowing into a glare. “No, I won’t!”

“Yes, you will.”

“No, I won’t!”

“Yes, you—”

Avey let out another high-pitched shriek and lunged at him, arms flailing. She barely reached his chest before slipping beneath the water again with an undignified sploosh.

Azer snorted, watching her pop back up a second later, sputtering and furious. “You need to work on your sneak attacks, little fox.”

Avey stomped her foot—or at least, tried to. The water made it more of a splash than anything else. “You ruined my dress, you horrible, evil, big—” She fumbled for the worst insult her seven-year-old brain could think of. “Goat!”

Azer barked out a laugh. “A goat?”

“A smelly goat!” Avey added, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“Oh no,” he deadpanned, placing a hand over his heart. “Whatever will I do with such a brutal insult?”

Avey huffed, crossing her arms in the water as she glared up at him.

Then—suddenly—her lips twitched.

Azer caught it immediately. “Ah-ha!” He pointed a triumphant finger at her. “You’re smiling!”

“No, I’m not!” she squeaked, lips pursing again.

“Yes, you are. And I told you—you’d be laughing about this soon.”

Avey groaned dramatically, throwing her head back. “I still hate you.”

Azer only grinned. “Love you too, little fox.”

Avey scowled, but this time, there was no real fire behind it. With one last glare, she lunged for him again—this time, managing to grab onto his arm, holding on tight.

Azer chuckled, easily hoisting her up until she could wrap her arms around his neck. “Come on, let’s get out of the water before you turn into an icicle.”

Avey sniffled, resting her wet cheek against his shoulder. “I won’t turn into an icicle,” she mumbled.

Azer smirked. “Maybe not, but you are freezing.”

Avey only hummed in response, her small fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as he waded toward the shore, carrying her as if she weighed nothing at all.

-----

Back in the ballroom, you barely had a moment to savor the warmth of Eris’s embrace before a chill ran up your spine—a mother’s instinct. You had been swaying in his arms, your head tucked beneath his jaw, enjoying the steady rise and fall of his breath against your temple. But something gnawed at you, a feeling that whispered—your children were up to something.

Eris must have felt the shift in your body because he hummed low in his throat, his lips grazing just beneath your ear. “Relax, my love,” he murmured, voice like embers burning low. “You’re too tense.”

You sighed, your fingers twisting against the fine fabric of his tunic. “Eris…” You lifted your head slightly, peering up at him. “Where are the children?”

He stilled for half a second—a fraction of hesitation, but you caught it. His fingers curled more firmly around your waist, his free hand coming up to brush over your jaw, coaxing your attention back to him.

“They’re fine,” he assured you, though his tone was more amused than convincing.

You narrowed your eyes. “Eris.”

He exhaled through his nose, that signature smirk playing on his lips. “Avey is with Azer.”

You stared at him. “And where is Azer?”

He hesitated. Just for a moment.

Your stomach dropped.

“Eris Vanserra,” you said, stepping back slightly. “Tell me they’re not up to something.”

He let out a long, dramatic sigh, tilting his head back slightly. “Would it make you feel better if I lied?”

“Eris!”

His smirk widened, and before you could shove at his chest, Lucien came striding toward you both, eyes sharp. “You might want to go find your son,” he drawled, crossing his arms. “And your daughter.”

Your heart kicked. “What happened?”

Lucien lifted a brow. “Oh, nothing much. Just Azer being… well, Azer.”

Eris ran a hand through his damp hair, rubbing at his temple. “I swear, that boy…” But there was no real frustration in his voice—only exasperated fondness.

Without another word, you turned on your heel, lifting the hem of your dress to make your way toward the open doors leading into the stormy gardens. Eris fell into step beside you, his hand pressed firmly against the small of your back.

“We’re never hosting another ball,” you muttered, your pace quickening.

Eris let out a deep chuckle. “You say that now.”

You shot him a sharp glare. “Your son is a menace.”

His grin was entirely too pleased. “Yes,” he agreed, voice dripping with pride. “Yes, he is.”

The moment you stepped outside, the cold bite of rain met your skin, soaking through the fine fabric of your dress. The storm had worsened since you and Eris had last been out here, the wind howling through the trees, carrying the scent of wet earth and embers.

You shivered slightly, but you barely noticed, too focused on the distant sounds of laughter—one deep and rich, the other high-pitched and full of glee.

Your gaze flicked to Eris. He had already pinpointed the source, his sharp amber eyes narrowing toward the lake.

With a groan, he started forward. “If they’re in the godsdamned water…”

You picked up your pace beside him, your heart hammering. “Avey better not be in the lake.”

“She wouldn’t.” But even as Eris said it, you could hear the doubt creeping in.

And then—

“I HATE you, Azer!”

Avey’s furious, tiny voice echoed across the stormy night, followed by Azer’s uncontrollable laughter.

Eris sighed heavily. “I knew I should’ve locked that boy in his room.”

You broke into a run, following the sound of their voices. Eris was right beside you, muttering under his breath about how his son was nothing but a walking headache, though you caught the glimmer of amusement in his tone.

By the time you reached the shore, the sight before you had you stopping dead in your tracks.

Avey stood in the shallows of the lake, drenched from head to toe, her tiny fists clenched at her sides as she glared up at her older brother. Water dripped from her curls, her lower lip wobbling, but her eyes burned with the kind of fury only a little sister could muster.

Azer, standing just out of reach, was still laughing, his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. “Come on, little fox,” he teased, wiping at his eyes. “It wasn’t that bad.”

Avey stomped toward him, slipping slightly in the mud. “You’re the worst, Azer Vanserra!”

Azer grinned. “You’ve said worse.”

“I mean it this time!”

“You always mean it.”

Before she could tackle him, you cleared your throat loudly.

Both children froze.

Slowly, they turned their heads, catching sight of you and Eris standing just beyond the treeline.

Avey’s face paled. Azer’s grin faltered.

Eris crossed his arms. “Would either of you like to explain why my daughter is soaking wet at the edge of the lake in the middle of a storm?”

Silence.

Then—

Azer scratched the back of his head, offering a sheepish smile. “Uh… bonding?”

Eris’s eye twitched.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Azer.”

Avey wasted no time, spinning on her heel and pointing an accusatory finger at her brother. “He dunked me!”

Eris exhaled sharply. “Azer.”

“She wanted to ditch,” Azer defended, raising his hands in surrender. “I just… made it more exciting.”

Avey splashed at him again, glaring daggers. “I hate you.”

Azer only laughed.

Eris ran a hand down his face, looking seconds away from dragging Azer into the lake himself. But before he could, you stepped forward, reaching for your shivering daughter.

“Come here, sweetheart,” you murmured.

Avey sniffled dramatically but rushed into your arms, wrapping her soaked limbs around you. You smoothed a hand down her wet curls, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re freezing.”

She sniffled again, nuzzling into your warmth. “Azer’s mean.”

“I know, baby.” You sent a look at your son. “Azer, you’re mean.”

He placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Wow. Betrayal.”

Eris finally pinched the bridge of his nose. “Both of you, inside. Now.”

Azer groaned. “But—”

“Now.”

Avey smirked as she let you lead her toward the house. “Hah. Loser.”

Azer rolled his eyes but trailed after you, still smirking. “Oh, shut up, little fox.”

Eris fell into step beside you, muttering, “I’m going to strangle that boy one day.”

You chuckled softly. “No, you won’t.”

He sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. “No,” he admitted, glancing at his son. “I won’t.”

By the time you stepped back into the manor, the storm had picked up, the rain lashing against the grand windows. The warmth of the ballroom was a stark contrast to the damp chill clinging to your skin. Avey shivered in your arms, her small hands clutching at your dress, while Azer trailed behind, shaking out his soaked curls like a wet dog.

Eris shot him a look. “Do that again, and I will throw you back outside.”

Azer grinned, completely unbothered. “Worth it.”

Avey, still bundled against you, let out an exaggerated sigh. “Mama, I need a bath. A warm one. With bubbles.”

You kissed her temple, smoothing a hand down her damp curls. “We’ll get you one soon, love.”

Lucien had been standing nearby, talking to Helion and Arlene, but at the sight of the four of you—sopping wet and clearly having just returned from whatever disaster Azer had orchestrated—he made his way over, brow arched.

“I don’t even want to ask,” he muttered, raking his gaze over his dripping niece and nephew.

Eris exhaled sharply, rubbing at his temple. “Then don’t.”

Lucien chuckled. “Azer, what did you do?”

Avey immediately pulled back from your hold, pointing an accusatory finger at her older brother. “He threw me in the lake!”

Lucien turned to Azer, unimpressed. “Really?”

Azer smirked. “She wanted to ditch the ball. I made it fun.”

Avey huffed, crossing her arms. “You threw me!”

Lucien sighed, shaking his head. “You’re lucky your mother’s here to keep your father from strangling you.”

Eris shot his brother a glare. “Don’t tempt me.”

You rolled your eyes, shifting Avey more comfortably in your arms. “Alright, enough. Avey needs to get warm, and I need to get changed before I catch a cold.”

Avey perked up immediately. “Can I have extra bubbles?”

You smiled, brushing a damp curl from her face. “Of course, sweetheart.”

Azer groaned. “She gets extra bubbles, and I get threatened? Unfair.”

Eris turned, eyes sharp. “You dunk your sister in a lake again, and I’ll dunk you.”

Azer only grinned, the picture of unrepentant mischief. “I’d like to see you try, old man.”

Lucien let out a bark of laughter. “You are getting old, brother.”

Eris glared at them both. “Out. All of you. Before I lose my mind.”

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to Avey’s forehead. “Come on, little love. Let’s get you warm.”

As you turned to leave, Azer leaned into his sister with a teasing grin. “Still the best night ever.”

Avey stuck out her tongue. “Hate you.”

Azer just laughed, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “No, you don’t.”

And despite her dramatic grumbling, Avey leaned into her brother’s warmth as you all disappeared up the stairs, leaving the remnants of the storm—and the ball—behind.

-----

Later that night, after the manor had settled into a quiet hum of flickering candlelight and distant laughter, you found yourself standing by the window of your chambers, gazing out at the darkened forest beyond. The rain had finally eased into a soft drizzle, the world outside bathed in silver moonlight.

Eris was behind you, his presence a familiar warmth as he pulled you into him, arms wrapping securely around your waist. His chin rested on your shoulder, his breath fanning over your damp hair.

“They’re in bed,” he murmured, voice laced with exhaustion.

You hummed, tilting your head slightly against his. “Both of them?”

“Avey knocked out in the bath. Azer had to carry her to bed.” His lips brushed just beneath your ear, a smile in his voice. “I think it made up for the whole lake incident.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “He’s lucky she adores him.”

Eris sighed, holding you a little tighter. “He’s lucky we adore him.”

You turned in his arms, meeting his gaze. There was something softer in his expression tonight, something only you ever got to see. The High Lord of Autumn, so ruthless to the rest of the world, so completely undone in the quiet moments he let himself have with you.

“Are you alright?” you asked, brushing your fingers over his cheek.

He exhaled, his hands settling at your hips. “I should be asking you that.”

You raised a brow. “Eris.”

A smirk ghosted over his lips before he shook his head. “I keep thinking about tonight. How different everything is now.” His thumbs traced absentminded circles against your waist. “There was a time when I never thought I’d have this. A family. Peace. You.”

You softened, sliding your hands up to cup his face. “But you do have it, Eris. And you always will.”

His grip tightened as he kissed you, slow and deep, like he was trying to commit the feeling of you to memory. When he pulled back, his eyes burned with something unspoken.

“Stay with me,” he whispered, though you both knew it wasn’t a question.

You smiled, leaning into him. “Always.”

And as the rain faded into nothing, as the world outside stilled, you let him pull you towards the bed, towards the warmth of his touch, towards the life you had built together—one that was yours to keep, always.

Eris’ lips found yours again, slow at first, savouring, but then something shifted—something more playful sparking in his touch. His fingers skimmed along the curve of your waist, featherlight, making you shiver as he deepened the kiss just enough to leave you wanting more.

Then, just as you leaned further into him, he pulled back.

You blinked, dazed, only to see the smirk curling at the corner of his lips. “What—”

Before you could finish, he brushed his lips over yours again, barely a ghost of a touch. And again. And again.

A frustrated sound caught in your throat as you tried to chase his mouth, but he only pulled away, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Patience, darling,” he murmured, voice rich with laughter.

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

Eris chuckled, pressing a kiss just beneath your jaw, his fingers now tracing slow, teasing circles over the small of your back. “And yet, you adore me.”

You huffed, though the warmth pooling in your stomach betrayed you. “That’s debatable.”

He grinned against your skin. “Liar.”

Then, in one smooth motion, he dipped you backward, catching you securely in his arms. A surprised laugh escaped you as you clung to him, the world tilting. His eyes, molten with mischief, locked onto yours.

“I should leave you like this,” he mused, pretending to consider it, “make you ask for it.”

You let out an indignant scoff. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Eris merely hummed, as if the thought truly tempted him. Then, finally, finally, he kissed you properly—deep and slow and claiming. His hand cradled the back of your head, tilting you just the way he liked as he swallowed the breathless sound you made.

By the time he pulled away, you were sure your legs would have given out if not for his hold. He studied you, smug and satisfied, his thumb brushing against your kiss-swollen lips.

“See?” he murmured. “Patience does have its rewards.”

You glared at him, though the effect was ruined by the heat in your gaze. “Shut up and kiss me again, Eris.”

His grin was wicked as he obeyed.

Eris didn’t waste a second. His lips crashed onto yours again, this time with none of the teasing restraint from before. His hands tightened at your waist, pulling you flush against him as he kissed you deep, hungry, like he’d been waiting all night for this.

A pleased hum vibrated against your mouth when your fingers tangled into his fiery hair, tugging just enough to make him groan. His grip on you tightened, one hand sliding up your spine, the other slipping lower—possessive, claiming.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he broke the kiss, only to nip at the soft spot just below your ear. “You taste like wine,” he murmured, voice husky as he kissed a slow path down your throat.

“And you taste like trouble,” you shot back, though the breathless edge to your voice ruined the effect.

Eris chuckled, the sound vibrating against your skin. “Funny, I was about to say the same about you.” His hands skimmed lower, fingers pressing into your hips. “Dragging me out into the rain. Ruining my perfectly tailored suit.”

You gasped as he suddenly lifted you, hoisting you onto the nearby table in one swift motion. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, but he pulled back just slightly, his lips hovering over yours.

“What am I going to do with you?” he mused, his smirk utterly wicked.

You arched a brow, fingers still tangled in his hair. “I could give you a few ideas.”

His gaze darkened, molten heat burning in those amber eyes. “Oh, I bet you could.”

Then he kissed you again, deeper this time, until all thoughts of the ball, the rain, and everything else melted away entirely.

-----

Two months later

Azer barely stirred when his bedroom door creaked open. The early morning light filtered through the heavy curtains, casting soft golden streaks across the room. His bed was warm, the blankets a tangled mess around him, but he was still deep in sleep, his face half-buried in his pillow.

That was, until a small set of hands shoved at his shoulder.

“Azer,” Avey whisper-shouted, her seven-year-old voice laced with urgency. When he only groaned in response, she huffed and tried again—this time climbing onto his bed, her knees digging into his side as she shook him harder.

“Azer, wake up!”

He let out a dramatic groan, rolling onto his back and throwing an arm over his eyes. “Go away, Ave.” His voice was rough with sleep, and he definitely wasn’t in the mood for whatever chaos his little sister was about to unleash.

But Avey was nothing if not persistent.

She flopped down onto his chest with all her tiny weight, making him grunt in protest. “Wake up,” she whined. “It’s important!”

Azer cracked one eye open, only to find Avey’s face inches from his, her big autumn-coloured eyes wide with excitement. Her curls were a wild mess from sleep, and she was still in her nightgown, her little feet tucked under her.

He groaned again, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Ave, if this isn’t life or death—”

“It is!” she interrupted, bouncing slightly on his chest. “Mama and Dad are up, and I heard them talking about something big.”

Azer sighed, already regretting this conversation. “What kind of ‘big’?”

Avey’s grin stretched wide. “I think we’re going on a trip!”

That got his attention. Azer’s brows lifted slightly as he finally pushed himself up onto his elbows, making Avey slide off his chest and onto the mattress beside him. “A trip where?”

“I don’t know,” she huffed, flopping onto her stomach and kicking her feet. “But I heard Mama saying we have to pack, and Daddy said something about ‘preparations’ and ‘not causing a diplomatic disaster.’”

Azer blinked, then smirked. “That definitely sounds like Dad.”

Avey giggled, nodding enthusiastically. “So come on,” she urged, tugging at his arm. “We have to find out where we’re going!”

Azer let out a long-suffering sigh, but he was already swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He knew there was no getting out of this—not when Avey was determined.

“Fine, fine,” he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. “But if this is some boring meeting in another court, you owe me.”

Avey beamed, hopping off the bed. “Deal!”

Avey practically skipped down the hall, her nightgown billowing behind her as she rushed ahead. Azer trailed after her at a much slower pace, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from his eyes.

The Autumn Court palace was quiet this early in the morning, save for the occasional flickering of flames in the wall sconces and the faint rustling of servants already beginning their day. But Avey’s hurried footsteps echoed through the halls, her excitement impossible to contain.

“Avey, slow down,” Azer grumbled, running a hand through his messy hair. “If you wake up the whole palace, Dad will—”

He was cut off as Avey skidded to a stop in front of their parents’ study. Without hesitation, she pressed her ear against the heavy wooden door, eyes gleaming.

Azer sighed, crossing his arms. “Really?”

Avey shushed him, waving a frantic hand for him to join her. He rolled his eyes but stepped closer, leaning against the wall beside her.

“…we need to make sure everything is in place before we leave,” their father’s voice came from inside, calm but firm.

Azer frowned. Before we leave?

“We should tell them soon,” their mother replied, her voice softer but no less decisive. “Azer especially. He’ll need time to prepare.”

Avey turned to him, practically vibrating. See? she mouthed excitedly.

Azer ignored her, listening closer.

“We’ll tell them at breakfast,” Eris said. “And we’ll remind them to be on their best behavior—”

“Especially Azer,” their mother added, amusement clear in her tone.

Azer scowled. What was that supposed to mean?

Avey giggled into her hands.

Then, suddenly—

“I know you two are listening.”

Avey gasped, her eyes going wide as the door swung open to reveal their father standing there, arms crossed, an unimpressed expression on his face.

Busted.

Avey immediately threw Azer under the metaphorical carriage. “It was his idea!” she blurted, pointing at him.

Azer scoffed, looking down at her in betrayal. “Seriously?”

You appeared behind Eris, shaking your head but clearly amused. “Come inside,” you said, stepping aside. “Since you’re so curious.”

Avey brightened, all traces of guilt gone as she skipped into the study. Azer followed with far less enthusiasm, dragging a hand down his face.

“Good morning to you, too,” he muttered as he stepped past his father.

Eris merely raised an eyebrow. “You’ll be less pleased when you hear where we’re going.”

Azer frowned, but before he could ask, his mother gestured for them to sit.

“Children,” you said, a knowing smile on your lips, “we’re going to the Night Court.”

Azer groaned the moment the words left your mouth, dropping his head back against the chair like the weight of the world had just landed on his shoulders.

“The Night Court?” he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. “So that means…”

“Yes,” Eris confirmed, clearly enjoying his son’s misery. “You’ll be seeing Nyx and Annavella.”

Azer let out another louder groan, tilting his head to glare at you like this was your fault. “Mama, do we have to?”

Avey, sitting beside him, perked up immediately. “I like Nyx and Annavella,” she chirped, swinging her legs beneath the chair. “They’re fun.”

Azer shot her a betrayed look. “That’s because they baby you.”

Avey stuck out her tongue.

You tried—tried—to keep a straight face, but Azer’s suffering was far too entertaining. “Since your father and Rhysand formed an alliance, yes, we do have to go,” you told him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “And you will behave.”

Azer slumped further into his chair. “Nyx is so annoying.”

“He’s twenty-one, Azer,” you sighed. “I doubt he’s changed that much since the last time you saw him.”

“Exactly,” Azer huffed. “He’s worse now. He acts like he’s so mature and wise just because he’s the heir to the Night Court. And don’t get me started on Annavella.”

Eris raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with Annavella?”

Azer let out an exasperated laugh. “Oh, I don’t know—maybe the fact that she thinks she’s better than me at everything? The last time we sparred, she practically tried to take my head off!”

“She won that sparring match,” Avey reminded him sweetly.

Azer scowled. “She cheated.”

Eris chuckled, shaking his head. “Sounds like you’re afraid of a little competition.”

“I’m not afraid,” Azer grumbled, crossing his arms. “I just don’t want to deal with her smug face for an entire trip. She and Nyx are so full of themselves.”

You patted his arm, barely holding back a smile. “You’ll survive.”

Azer only slumped further, muttering something about Night Court arrogance under his breath.

Avey, meanwhile, was practically bouncing in her seat. “When do we leave?” she asked eagerly.

“Tomorrow,” Eris answered.

Azer groaned again, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, “Kill me now.”

Eris smirked. “Now, now, little firefox,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “It’ll be good for you.”

You watched as Azer slumped deeper into his chair, rubbing his temples like this trip was going to be the end of him. It was so tempting to drag this out just to watch him suffer, but you decided to be merciful—for now.

“And,” you said, drawing out the word, “Kallias and his wife will be there as well.”

Azer barely reacted.

You smirked. “With their son, Edur.”

That got his attention. His head popped up, eyes slightly less miserable. “Edur’s coming?”

“Yes.”

He nodded approvingly. “Alright. That makes it slightly better.”

Eris snorted, shaking his head at how quickly Azer’s attitude shifted. You knew he and Edur got along well—both of them were skilled fighters, and Azer actually respected him, which was rare for anyone outside of his own family.

But you weren’t done yet.

“And,” you added, enjoying this a little too much, “Tarquin is coming as well.”

Azer frowned. “Okay…”

“With his daughter.”

The moment the words left your mouth, Azer’s entire body stiffened. He slowly turned to look at you, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Noelani?”

You smiled sweetly. “Yes.”

Azer let out the loudest groan yet, dramatically flopping his head back against the chair.

“No,” he whined, dragging a hand down his face. “Not her.”

Avey, who had been swinging her legs beneath her chair, perked up at this. “Oooooh,” she hummed, grinning. “Azer likes her.”

Azer bolted upright so fast it was a miracle the chair didn’t topple over. “I do not like her, I want her existence to end.”

“You totally do,” Avey singsonged, giggling as she leaned toward him.

Azer turned his glare to you and Eris. “Why is she like this?”

“She’s seven,” Eris said simply.

“With a seven-year-old attitude,” you added, ruffling Avey’s curls.

Avey giggled again, clearly enjoying every second of Azer’s torment.

Azer groaned, dragging both hands down his face. “This is awful.”

“Oh, come now,” you teased, nudging him. “Noelani is a very nice girl.”

Azer scoffed. “She’s obnoxious.”

“You’re obnoxious,” Avey shot back.

Azer ignored her. “She’s always smiling and talking and trying to act all charming, like she thinks she’s so clever.” He rolled his eyes. “And she flirts with everyone.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you jealous?”

Azer gawked at you. “What? No! Why would I be jealous? That’s—ugh, forget it.”

Avey smirked. A perfectly mischievous smirk that looked far too much like Eris’s. “I think Azer has a crush.”

Azer groaned again, shoving away from the table. “I’m done with this conversation.”

Avey giggled, leaning into your side. “He totally likes her.”

You chuckled, wrapping an arm around your daughter. “He’s in denial.”

Eris merely shook his head, clearly amused. “This trip is going to be interesting.”

Azer, now standing with his arms crossed, scowled at all three of you. “I hate this family.”

Avey beamed up at him. “We love you, too!”

Azer moved before Avey even had the chance to scramble away. One second, she was grinning up at him with all the mischief in the world, and the next—

“AHH!”

Avey’s delighted shriek filled the room as Azer lunged, grabbing her around the waist and tackling her straight onto the plush carpet.

She wriggled and kicked, but Azer had years of training on her, easily pinning her down with one arm while using the other to mercilessly tickle her sides.

“Take it back!” he demanded over her squeals.

Avey screeched with laughter, thrashing like a wild thing. “Never!”

Azer grinned wickedly. “Wrong answer, little fox.”

His fingers moved faster, digging into her ribs, and Avey shrieked again, gasping between giggles as she tried to kick at him.

“Mama, help!” she cried, still laughing so hard tears pricked her eyes.

You crossed your arms, pretending to think it over. “Hmm… I don’t know. You did say Azer had a crush.”

Avey cackled. “Because he does!”

Azer groaned, flopping dramatically onto his back beside her. “Why do you exist?”

Avey immediately rolled onto him, sprawling across his chest in a way that made it impossible for him to move.

“Because you’d be so boring without me,” she declared, grinning as she poked his cheek.

Azer huffed, scowling at her. “You’re the worst.”

Avey batted her lashes. “And you love me.”

Azer sighed, letting his head fall back onto the carpet. “Unfortunately.”

Avey giggled, curling up against him like a satisfied little fox kit. Azer sighed again but let her stay, draping an arm around her like he always did.

Eris leaned toward you, murmuring, “Seven going on seventeen.”

You laughed softly, watching your children—so different, yet always drawn back to each other. “Tell me about it.”

Azer lay sprawled on the carpet, letting Avey practically nest on top of him. She had her arms tucked beneath her chin, peering up at him with a triumphant little grin, clearly very pleased with herself.

He huffed. “You’re ridiculously smug for someone who just got tackled.”

Avey wrinkled her nose at him. “You still didn’t win.”

Azer raised a brow. “Oh?”

Before she could react, he flipped them, rolling her onto her back and pinning her wrists to the floor.

“Who’s winning now?” he teased, grinning down at her.

Avey scowled. “You cheated!”

Azer barked a laugh. “I taught you this move, little fox. You should’ve been ready.”

Avey thrashed, trying to break free, but Azer easily kept her in place, smirking as she let out an exasperated groan.

You and Eris watched from the side, both of you thoroughly entertained.

“I give it a minute before she bites him,” Eris murmured.

You hummed, considering. “Thirty seconds.”

And then—

“OW—Avey!”

Azer jerked back, grabbing his arm where Avey had actually bitten him. Avey used the distraction to scramble free, cackling as she bolted across the room.

“I knew it,” Eris said, shaking his head.

Azer glared after his sister, rubbing his arm. “You are feral!”

Avey only stuck her tongue out at him. “You deserved it!”

Eris chuckled, stepping forward and ruffling Azer’s hair. “That’s what you get for underestimating a little fox.”

Azer grumbled something under his breath, still glaring at his sister, but he didn’t argue.

You just smiled, watching them—knowing that no matter how much they bickered, no matter how much they teased and tackled each other, Azer would always protect her, and Avey would always adore him.

Seven going on seventeen, indeed.

Avey kept a safe distance from her brother, practically vibrating with smugness as she rocked back on her heels. “What’s wrong, Azer?” she taunted, her little hands on her hips. “Didn’t think your baby sister could outsmart you?”

Azer rolled his eyes, still rubbing his arm where she’d bitten him. “You didn’t outsmart me, you cheated.”

Avey just grinned. “You should’ve been ready.”

Eris let out a low chuckle beside you, clearly enjoying this far too much. “She is your sister,” he reminded Azer. “I don’t know why you’re surprised.”

Azer let out a long suffering sigh, running a hand through his unruly hair. “She’s a menace.”

Avey beamed, taking it as a compliment. “I am!”

Eris shook his head with a soft smirk, then glanced at you. “How do you feel about giving her to Rhysand as a diplomatic gift?”

Avey gasped, utterly offended. “Mama!” she cried, running straight to you and wrapping her arms around your waist. “Tell him he’s not allowed to give me away!”

You smoothed a hand over her wild curls, barely containing your laughter. “I don’t think Rhys could handle you, little fox.”

Avey nodded fiercely. “Exactly!”

Azer snorted. “He’d return her in a day.”

Avey whipped around, pointing an accusing finger at him. “I am a delight, you meanie!”

Azer just smirked. “A delightful menace.”

Avey huffed dramatically, but instead of arguing, she just turned back to you, her eyes wide and pleading. “Mama, can we please go now?”

You smiled down at her. “Go where?”

She groaned, bouncing on her toes. “To the lake! Azer promised!”

You raised a brow, glancing at your son. “Did you?”

Azer sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I might have.”

Eris chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Then you’d better take her before she decides to bite you again.”

Azer grimaced as Avey giggled, clearly thrilled by the idea.

“Fine, fine,” Azer muttered, grabbing her hand. “But if you splash me in, I swear—”

Avey just cackled as she dragged him toward the door, already knowing she would.

As Azer and Avey disappeared through the doorway—Avey practically bouncing on her toes, Azer grumbling but following nonetheless—you felt Eris’ arm tighten around your waist, keeping you close.

The warmth of his body against yours was familiar, steady. Even after all these years, after all the chaos and change, there was something constant in the way he held you.

You glanced up at him, and his gaze was already on you—amber eyes soft, lingering, filled with something deep and unspoken.

“You’re looking at me like that again,” you murmured.

His lips twitched. “Like what?”

You tilted your head, watching him carefully. “Like you’re trying to memorize me.”

Eris huffed a quiet laugh, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, he reached up, fingers brushing along your jaw, tilting your face slightly toward him.

“I already have you memorized,” he murmured, voice lower now, softer. “But I like to remind myself anyway.”

Your breath hitched, caught in the way his thumb traced over your cheekbone, the way his gaze flickered over every detail of your face—as if he were savouring the moment, as if he wanted to keep it forever.

You smirked, placing a hand over his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm. “Sentimental, aren’t we?”

He exhaled a quiet laugh, leaning down just enough that his lips almost brushed yours. “Don’t tell anyone.”

You grinned, tilting your chin up slightly, closing that last bit of space. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

And then, just before his lips could fully claim yours—

A scream echoed from outside, followed by a loud splash.

You both froze.

Then—

“Avey, I swear!” Azer’s furious voice rang through the halls.

Eris let out a low groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why did we have children?”

You laughed, grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the door. “Because you love me and your dick always used to end up between my legs.”

Eris sighed dramatically, but he followed—because he did. More than anything.

The two of you stepped outside, the warm breeze carrying the scent of damp earth and pine from the gardens. The moment your feet hit the stone pathway leading toward the lake, you knew what you were about to find.

Sure enough—

Azer stood at the edge of the water, dripping wet, clothes clinging to him, curls a soaked mess as he glowered at his little sister. Avey, who was still standing knee-deep in the lake, had her hands clasped behind her back, lips pursed in an attempt to contain her laughter.

“You little monster,” Azer seethed.

Avey giggled, her shoulders shaking. “You should’ve seen your face!”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing, but beside you, Eris had no such restraint. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, and when you turned to look at him, he was smirking.

“You did say she couldn’t push you in,” Eris mused. “Not that she couldn’t pull you.”

Azer shot his father a withering glare. “Not. Helping.”

Eris merely shrugged, unbothered, as his attention flicked back to Avey. “You’re lucky I like you, little fox.”

Avey grinned, positively beaming. “I know.”

Azer groaned, pushing his wet curls back from his face. “I hate all of you.”

You snorted. “You don’t.”

Azer exhaled sharply, muttering something under his breath, but before he could start his inevitable rant about how much of a menace his little sister was, Avey let out a squeak—

And promptly ran straight for you.

You barely had time to react before she leapt into your arms, soaking you in the process. The cold water from her clothes seeped into your dress, making you gasp as she nuzzled into your neck, giggling.

Eris smirked at your expression, stepping forward to ruffle Avey’s soaked curls. “You are soaked, little fox.”

Avey hummed. “So’s Azer.”

Azer grumbled something incomprehensible.

Eris exhaled through his nose, then turned to you, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Shall we retrieve our chaotic children and return before we cause any more scandal?”

You sighed but smiled, adjusting Avey in your arms. “I suppose.”

Eris smirked, then reached for Azer’s shoulder, clapping a hand against his wet clothes. “Come, my drowned heir. Let’s get you dried off before your mother disowns us all.”

Azer groaned, but followed—because, despite the theatrics, he wouldn’t change any of this for the world.

-----

Rhysand leaned back in his chair, swirling a glass of wine between his fingers as he looked around the room. Feyre sat beside him, one arm draped over the back of her chair, her expression calm but observant. Across from them, Cassian was sprawled lazily on the couch, his wings draped over the sides, while Nesta sat beside him, her usual unimpressed stare locked on her mate’s attempt at looking relaxed.

Azriel stood near the window, arms crossed, his shadows curling idly around his shoulders. The room was warm, the soft glow of the chandelier reflecting against the polished wood floors, but there was an edge to the atmosphere—an unspoken weight in the air as they all waited.

Seated in the center of it all were the next generation—Nyx, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, and Annavella, who was perched on the arm of a chair, idly twirling a strand of dark hair between her fingers. Cassian and Nesta’s sons sat beside them—Andros, the eldest at nineteen, with his father’s broad shoulders and wild grin, and Evander, who was eighteen and a perfect balance of both his parents, sharp and steady but with Cassian’s penchant for trouble lurking beneath his composed exterior.

“You’re making it sound like we’re preparing for war,” Nyx finally said, raising a brow at his father.

Rhysand exhaled a slow breath, setting his wine down on the table. “Not war. But there will be tensions.” His violet gaze flicked toward Andros and Evander. “It’s your first time meeting them all at the same time, and I want you to be prepared.”

Annavella rolled her eyes. “It’s a gathering, not a battlefield.”

Nesta scoffed, taking a sip of her own drink. “Clearly, you’ve never been to a court gathering.”

Cassian grinned, ruffling Evander’s hair, much to his son’s annoyance. “There’s a lot of pride on the line when you throw High Lords and their families in one room. You’ll want to keep an eye on everything—and everyone.”

Evander frowned slightly. “Who exactly is coming?”

Rhysand leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Eris and his family, obviously. His son Azer is around your age, along with his younger sister, Avey.” His gaze flicked toward Nyx and Annavella. “You two have met them, but this will be the first formal gathering since they’ve become fully recognized within Autumn.”

Nyx nodded, his expression unreadable. “Azer’s fine. A bit high-strung, but fine.”

Cassian snorted. “Can you blame him? Look who his father is.”

Feyre shot him a look, but Rhysand only smirked before continuing. “Kallias and Viviane will be attending as well, along with their son, Edur. He’s twenty now.”

Andros perked up. “He’s the one that trained in Winter’s army, right?”

Azriel nodded. “He’s skilled—one of their best.”

Evander raised a brow. “So he’ll be fun to spar with?”

Cassian grinned, nudging his son’s shoulder. “Maybe. If Kallias doesn’t mind you breaking his alliances.”

Nesta sighed, shaking her head before turning to Rhysand. “Who else?”

“Tarquin,” Rhysand replied. “And his daughter, Noelani.”

Nyx groaned immediately, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Not her.”

Annavella laughed, tossing a cushion at her brother. “Oh, come on, Nyx. She likes you.”

“That’s the problem.”

Cassian laughed loudly, and even Azriel smirked slightly. “She’s persistent,” Rhysand admitted, amusement flickering in his gaze. “But you’ll survive.”

Nyx grumbled something under his breath.

Andros glanced at Evander, who was trying to stifle a grin. “This is going to be interesting.”

Rhysand exhaled slowly, glancing around the room, making sure they all understood. “Just remember—this is about alliances, about maintaining the peace that’s been built over the years. Whatever personal feelings you have about the others, put them aside.”

Cassian stretched, flexing his wings. “And if it does come to a fight—”

Nesta smacked his arm.

Cassian grinned. “What? Just saying. Wouldn’t be the worst way to spend an evening.”

Rhysand sighed, rubbing his temples. “Mother help us all.”

Nyx groaned again, leaning back in his chair. “I still don’t get why we have to be the ones dealing with this. Shouldn’t this be a High Lord thing?”

Rhysand gave his son a pointed look. “You’re the heir to this court, Nyx. One day, you will be the one managing these relationships.”

Nyx muttered something under his breath, but Annavella smirked. “I think it’s fun. Maybe Azer and I can make a game out of it—see how long it takes before someone snaps.”

Evander chuckled. “You say that like you’re not going to be the first one to start something, again may I add.”

Nesta sighed, rubbing her temples. “Please, for once, can we get through an evening without one of you causing a scene?”

Andros grinned at his mother. “No promises.”

Cassian laughed, clapping his eldest on the back. “That’s my boy.”

Rhysand rolled his eyes before turning back to Azriel, who had remained silent, simply listening to the conversation unfold. “What do you think?”

Azriel shrugged, his shadows curling around his shoulders. “Eris is smart. He knows the importance of tonight.”

Nyx scoffed. “Yeah, but Azer?”

Azriel hesitated for half a second before exhaling. “Azer takes after his father in ways that matter. He’ll keep himself in check.”

Annavella grinned. “I hope not.”

Rhysand shook his head, but before he could respond, Feyre cut in. “We also need to be aware of the political weight of this night. It’s not just about alliances—it’s about history. The Autumn Court has been in shadows for centuries under Beron’s rule. This is one of the first times Eris is fully opening his doors to others.”

Nyx tapped his fingers against his knee. “So what? We’re supposed to act like everything’s perfect and ignore the fact that everyone has some kind of grudge against each other?”

Nesta arched a brow at him. “That’s called politics.”

Cassian smirked. “That’s called bullshit.”

Feyre sighed. “Just try not to let your emotions get the best of you.”

Nyx let out a long breath before finally nodding. “Fine. I’ll behave.”

Andros snickered. “That makes one of us.”

Evander grinned. “Two.”

Annavella just winked.

Rhysand closed his eyes for a moment before muttering, “This is going to be a disaster.”

-----

You sighed as you knelt in front of Avey, carefully wrapping her in a thick, warm towel. Her curls clung to her face, damp and tangled from her latest adventure—one that had ended with her completely drenched, yet again.

"Avey," you murmured, gently squeezing the towel around her shoulders. "This is the third time today. Do you enjoy making me chase you down with a towel?"

Your seven-year-old daughter giggled, her little nose scrunching as she rocked slightly on her heels. "Maybe," she admitted, mischief glinting in her bright amber eyes—the same ones her father had.

You shook your head, unable to suppress a small smile as you rubbed the towel over her curls, trying to absorb as much water as possible. "You're going to catch a cold at this rate."

"Nuh-uh!" she protested, puffing out her chest. "I'm strong!"

"You're soaked," you countered, pulling the towel from her head and moving to dry her arms next. Her skin was still cool from the lake, and you hurried to warm her up, rubbing her down with firm, steady motions.

Avey sighed dramatically, letting her head tilt back. "You're like Azer."

You arched a brow, moving to dry her tiny legs. "Oh? How so?"

"He always says I’m trouble," she grumbled, crossing her arms.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. "That’s because you are trouble."

She gasped, eyes going wide with faux betrayal. "Mama!"

You winked at her, then reached for the fresh clothes laid out on the bed. A simple cream-colored dress with delicate embroidery along the edges—something soft and easy to move in.

"Arms up," you instructed.

Avey obeyed, lifting her arms so you could pull the dress over her head. It fell into place around her small frame, and she wiggled her fingers excitedly before spinning in a little circle.

"Pretty?" she asked, peering up at you.

You brushed her curls back from her face, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Very pretty."

She beamed, then suddenly gasped. "Oh! Shoes!"

You barely had time to react before she sprinted across the room, slipping slightly on the rug as she grabbed a pair of tiny slippers. She shoved her feet into them, grinning triumphantly as she turned back to you.

"Ready!" she announced.

You stood, smoothing out her dress one last time before taking her hands in yours. "No more lakes tonight, understood?"

Avey bit her lip, clearly debating.

"Avey."

"Okay," she relented with a sigh. "No more lakes."

You arched a brow. "Or fountains. Or ponds. Or any water that isn't a bath."

She huffed. "You sound like Daddy."

You smirked. "Good. Now, let’s go before he realizes how much of a mess you made."

Avey giggled, gripping your hand tightly as you led her toward the door—warm, dry, and looking every bit the little princess she was. For now, at least.

You scooped Avey up into your arms, pressing a quick kiss to her damp curls as she giggled, her little arms wrapping around your neck. She was warm now, her fresh dress soft against your skin as she nestled into you.

"Where are we going?" she asked, her voice lilting with curiosity.

"To my room," you murmured, shifting her slightly in your arms. "So I can braid your hair before you go running off again."

Avey let out a dramatic sigh, flopping her head against your shoulder. "Braiding takes forever."

You chuckled, carrying her through the halls of the Autumn Court’s grand estate. The flickering faelights cast soft golden glows along the walls, the distant hum of the evening carrying through the corridors. Avey tapped her fingers against your shoulder as you reached your chambers, pushing the door open with ease.

The room was warm, the fireplace crackling gently in the corner. You set Avey down on the cushioned stool in front of your vanity, her little legs swinging as she looked at herself in the mirror, making faces.

You grabbed a wooden brush from the vanity, running it gently through her curls. "Hold still, little fox."

Avey pouted but obeyed, only fidgeting slightly as you worked through the tangles. Her hair gleamed under the light, the soft waves slowly smoothing out with each careful stroke.

"You have so much hair," you murmured, brushing it all to one side.

"Daddy says it’s wild like me," Avey said with a grin.

You smiled, gathering three small sections of hair near her temple. "Well, let’s see if we can tame it a little."

You started twisting the strands together, weaving them delicately as your fingers worked with practiced ease. Avey hummed under her breath, her hands resting in her lap as you continued.

"Are you making it fancy?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.

"A little," you admitted. "But not too fancy. Just enough to keep it out of your face."

She seemed satisfied with that, watching in the mirror as the intricate twist braids formed, wrapping gently around the side of her head.

"I like when you do my hair," she admitted softly.

Your hands stilled for a moment before you pressed another kiss to the crown of her head. "I like doing your hair, baby."

She smiled, leaning into your touch. You finished securing the braids with a delicate ribbon, tying it neatly before running your hands over her hair one last time.

"There," you said, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. "Now you’re ready."

Avey turned in her seat, reaching up to touch the braids before beaming at you. "Thank you, Mama!"

You brushed your fingers along her cheek. "Always, my love."

And as she hopped off the stool, twirling once in front of the mirror, you swore you saw the same wild spirit in her eyes that Eris carried—bright, untamed, and full of fire.

The door creaked open just as Avey finished her twirl, and a familiar voice filled the room.

"What are you two up to?"

Azer leaned lazily against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest, the usual sharp amusement dancing in his eyes. His red hair—so much like Eris’s—was slightly tousled, as if he’d just rolled out of bed or had been roughhousing with someone, which, knowing him, was highly likely.

Avey gasped dramatically, whirling around to face him. "Look! Mama braided my hair!" She grabbed the ends of the delicate twist braids, her little fingers fumbling to show them off.

Azer pushed off the doorframe, sauntering into the room with the casual confidence of someone who knew exactly how much space they took up. He stopped just beside Avey, reaching down to flick one of her braids lightly.

"Not bad," he mused, tilting his head. "Mama’s got some skill."

You raised a brow at him, folding your arms. "Are you just figuring that out now?"

Azer grinned. "I mean, I guess I could have better ones, but—"

"You have better ones," you interrupted, rolling your eyes. "I’ve been braiding your hair since you could sit still long enough for me to do it."

Avey giggled, stepping closer to her brother and grabbing the hem of his tunic. "Are you gonna get braids, too?" she asked, looking up at him with wide, mischievous eyes.

Azer scoffed. "No way."

"Why not?"

"Because I have style, little fox," he teased, ruffling her hair and promptly messing up a few strands you’d just secured.

Avey let out an indignant squeal, swatting at his hand. "Azer! Mama just fixed it!"

You sighed, already stepping forward to smooth her hair back into place. "Honestly, do you have to torment her all the time?"

"It’s part of my job," Azer said matter-of-factly, stepping back before Avey could retaliate.

Avey crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at him. "You should get braids, then I’ll forgive you."

Azer chuckled, but something in his gaze softened as he looked at her—his little sister, his shadow, the only person who could truly bend him to her will. With an exaggerated sigh, he turned his back to you, lowering his head just enough.

"Fine. One. One braid," he said, pointing a warning finger at you. "And if anyone sees, I’m blaming you."

Avey cheered, bouncing on her toes. "Yes!"

You just smirked, already gathering a few strands of his unruly red hair. "I think I’ll make it fancy."

"Not too fancy!" he quickly protested, but the way he stayed still—the way he let you do it at all—said more than words ever could.

You ran your fingers through Azer’s thick, unruly red hair, smoothing out any tangles as he knelt on the floor in front of you, his back to you. He was tense at first, his pride making this harder for him than it needed to be, but as your fingers worked methodically, he relaxed, exhaling slowly.

Avey sat cross-legged beside him, watching with rapt attention, a grin tugging at her lips as if she couldn't believe her big brother had actually given in.

"You know," you murmured, carefully sectioning a small strand at the nape of his neck, "for someone so dramatic about this, you sure have nice hair. You should let me do this more often."

Azer groaned. "Don't push your luck, Mama."

You smirked, weaving the first few strands together. "Oh, don’t worry. Avey will make sure this isn’t the last time."

"I will," Avey confirmed with a firm nod.

Azer sighed, but you could feel the way he was holding back a smile.

With steady hands, you continued braiding, the rhythm of it as familiar as breathing. His hair was soft, silky despite his reckless nature, and it took to the braid easily. You made it neat but not too intricate—just enough that it wouldn’t unravel too quickly, but still subtle enough that he wouldn’t feel like a walking target when the others inevitably noticed.

As you reached the end of the braid, you grabbed a small leather cord from the table beside you and tied it off, securing the strands in place. You let your fingers linger for just a second before sitting back, admiring your work.

"Done," you announced, patting his shoulder.

Avey clapped her hands excitedly. "Let me see!"

Azer reached up, running his fingers over the small braid at the base of his neck. He turned his head slightly, catching your expression—your barely contained amusement, the fondness in your eyes.

"Alright, alright," he muttered, standing up and shaking his head, as if trying to see if the braid would just come undone on its own. When it didn’t, he let out another sigh, but there was something softer in his expression as he turned back to you.

"Happy now?"

Avey grinned. "Very."

And despite himself—despite all his protests—Azer smirked, giving you a look that was so much like Eris’s, full of reluctant amusement and deep-seated affection.

You reached out, fixing the collar of his shirt. "You?" you asked, tilting your head at him.

Azer rolled his eyes. "Don’t push it," he muttered, but the way he nudged Avey’s shoulder—the way he didn’t immediately take the braid out—told you everything you needed to know.

Eris strode into the room, his presence as commanding as ever, though there was a rare ease in his expression. He glanced around, expecting movement, maybe the usual last-minute scrambling before departure. Instead, he found the three of you huddled together, suspiciously still. His sharp amber eyes flickered with confusion as he took in the scene—Azer sitting on the floor, Avey perched beside him, and you kneeling behind your son with your hands suspiciously close to his head.

“What exactly is going on here?” he asked slowly, crossing his arms. His gaze zeroed in on Azer, who immediately tensed, sitting up straighter as if caught doing something scandalous.

Avey, on the other hand, had no such reservations. She beamed up at her father. “Mama braided his hair!” she announced proudly.

Eris’s eyebrows lifted, his gaze flicking down to the small, subtle braid nestled at the nape of Azer’s neck. His lips twitched as he fought a smirk, though the glint of amusement in his eyes betrayed him.

Azer groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “This is not a big deal.”

Eris hummed in mock consideration, tilting his head. “No, I suppose it’s not. But it is rather… unexpected.”

You sat back on your heels, wiping your hands on your skirts. “You say that like I haven’t done this to you before.”

Eris gave you a knowing look, one that sent warmth curling low in your stomach. “Yes, but I married you. Azer here still has his pride to think about.”

Azer scowled. “Are we done? Or are we going to analyse my hair?”

Eris chuckled, finally taking a step forward. “I came to check if everyone was packed, but clearly you’re all too busy playing dress-up.”

“I am packed,” Azer shot back.

Avey, of course, had no such claims. She gasped dramatically, grabbing your arm. “I forgot my stuffed fox!”

Eris sighed, shaking his head. “I should’ve known.” Then, looking back at you, he arched a brow. “And you, my love? Or were you too occupied tormenting our son?”

You smirked. “I’m ready. Just waiting on these two.”

Eris exhaled through his nose, clearly holding back a laugh as he ruffled Azer’s hair—a deliberate move to mess with the carefully woven braid. Azer swatted his hand away with a glare, and Avey giggled.

Eris grinned. “Hurry up, little foxes. We leave soon.”

Azer groaned as Eris left the room, muttering something under his breath about insufferable parents while Avey scrambled to her feet, suddenly remembering all the things she needed to bring.

You stood, brushing off your skirts, watching as your daughter darted around the room in a flurry of energy, grabbing her stuffed fox, a book far too heavy for her to actually read, and a small bundle of miscellaneous trinkets she had deemed essential for the trip.

Azer, still seated on the floor, rubbed a hand over his face before looking up at you. “Do we really have to go?”

You sighed, walking over to him and nudging his shoulder with your foot. “Yes, you really have to go.”

He groaned louder this time, tilting his head back against the edge of the bed. “Nyx and Annavella are so annoying.”

“You say that like you’re not just as bad.”

He scowled at you. “They’re worse.”

You rolled your eyes, reaching for his wrist and tugging him up to his feet. “Come on, stop sulking. It won’t be that bad.”

He gave you a flat look. “You do remember that Noelani will be there, right?”

Avey gasped dramatically from the other side of the room. “She likes you!”

Azer looked horrified. “She does not!”

Avey smirked, hugging her stuffed fox. “She does.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing as Azer threw his hands up in exasperation. “This is actual torture.”

You patted his cheek fondly. “Oh, you’ll survive.”

He muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like I’d rather not, but he didn’t argue further, which was a miracle in itself.

Eris’s voice echoed down the hall. “Are you three coming or am I leaving you behind?”

Avey gasped again, clutching your arm. “No! Don’t leave me!”

You laughed, hoisting her up onto your hip. “Let’s go before your father actually considers it.”

Azer trudged after you both, muttering complaints all the way down the hall.

-----

The carriage rocked gently as it moved through the Night Court’s mountainous terrain, the familiar scent of crisp night air seeping through the cracks. You could already see the glow of the palace ahead, the elegant structure nestled into the cliffs of Velaris, its towers piercing the dark sky.

Inside the carriage, Avey sat beside you, kicking her feet restlessly against the seat, while Azer slouched on the other side, arms crossed, staring moodily out the window. Eris sat beside him, watching his daughter’s movements with an arched brow.

“Avey,” Eris finally said, his voice calm but firm.

She froze mid-kick, blinking up at him innocently. “Yes, Daddy?”

Eris gave her a pointed look. “What are the rules?”

Avey huffed, tilting her head back dramatically against your shoulder. “Be polite, don’t interrupt, don’t challenge people to fights—”

“Especially not Cassian,” Eris added, rubbing his temple as if already anticipating disaster.

Avey grinned. “But he always accepts!”

Eris sighed. “That is not the point, little fox.”

Avey giggled but quickly straightened her posture when Eris narrowed his eyes at her. “Fine, fine. Be polite, don’t interrupt, no fights, and no climbing on anything.”

“Or anyone,” you added, thinking of the last time you were here when Avey had quite literally scaled Azriel’s leg like a tree.

Avey pouted. “He didn’t mind.”

Eris pinched the bridge of his nose. “Regardless, I minded.”

She sighed dramatically. “Fine. I’ll try to be good.”

Azer snorted. “Yeah, right.”

Avey turned and stuck her tongue out at him.

Eris exhaled sharply. “And you,” he said, looking at Azer now. “I don’t want to hear any complaints about Nyx, Annavella, or Noelani tonight. Understood?”

Azer scowled but grumbled, “Understood.”

You reached over, patting his knee. “Thank you for at least pretending to behave.”

Azer muttered something under his breath, but you chose to ignore it as the carriage slowed, signalling your arrival.

Eris straightened his jacket, casting one last glance at his children. “Be on your best behavior.”

Avey beamed. Azer rolled his eyes. And you—well, you just knew this night was going to be interesting.

The carriage door swung open, revealing a familiar stone courtyard bathed in the soft glow of faelights. The crisp night air rushed in, carrying the scent of rain-soaked earth and blooming jasmine.

Avey was the first to scramble forward, but Eris caught her before she could leap out. He shot her a warning look, and she huffed but obediently let him lift her down with practiced ease. Azer stepped out next, landing with a heavy thud, shoving his hands into his pockets. You followed last, smoothing out your attire before taking Eris’s offered hand as he helped you down.

Velaris’s grand palace loomed before you, dark and elegant, the open doors revealing the warm glow of candlelight inside. At the top of the steps, Rhysand and Feyre stood waiting, both dressed in their court’s signature shades of deep midnight and starlight silver.

Feyre’s lips twitched as she looked between your children. “They’ve grown.”

Rhysand smirked slightly, eyeing Azer’s unamused expression. “Some more than others.”

Azer gritted his teeth, clearly already preparing himself for a long night. You nudged his side in warning.

Eris stepped forward, inclining his head slightly in greeting. “Rhysand. Feyre.”

Rhys nodded back, his expression unreadable. “Eris.”

It was a tentative truce between them, one that had taken years to forge. But despite their alliance, an air of tension always remained—a deep-rooted wariness that neither High Lord would ever fully let go of.

Feyre, ever the diplomat, smiled at you warmly. “It’s good to finally host you properly.”

You returned her smile. “Likewise.”

Before anything else could be said, a flurry of movement caught everyone’s attention as Nyx and Annavella appeared, walking down the steps toward you.

Nyx, now twenty-one, moved with an easy confidence that he’d inherited from his father, his cobalt siphons gleaming against his black leathers. Beside him, Annavella, the same age as Azer, was dressed in a flowing gown of deep violet, her golden-brown curls cascading down her back.

Nyx’s lips curled into a smirk as he clapped Azer on the shoulder. “Miss me?”

Azer gave him a deadpan look. “Like a hole in the head.”

Annavella rolled her eyes. “And yet you never change.”

Before Azer could retort, another voice cut in.

“You made it.”

Cassian’s deep, amused voice carried across the courtyard as he and Nesta descended the steps. Azriel followed a few paces behind them, his shadows curling slightly in the cool air.

Avey’s face lit up, and before Eris could stop her, she bolted straight for Cassian.

“Cassian!”

Cassian barely had time to brace himself before Avey launched into his arms. He caught her effortlessly, laughing. “There’s my favorite little Vanserra.”

Eris sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is exactly what I was talking about.”

Cassian grinned unapologetically, ruffling Avey’s hair. “Come on, Eris, don’t act like she doesn’t get it from you.”

Eris muttered something under his breath, but Avey just giggled, clinging to Cassian like a koala.

Nesta crossed her arms, eyeing her mate. “Put her down before she starts thinking she can get away with anything.”

Cassian smirked. “Oh, but she can.”

Eris looked like he was deeply regretting every life choice that had led him here.

Meanwhile, Azriel’s shadows curled toward Avey, brushing against her arms. She gasped, twisting to look at them. “Hello again!”

Azriel’s lips twitched slightly. “You remember them?”

Avey nodded eagerly. “They’re my friends.”

Azer groaned, rubbing his temples. “Mother above, this is going to be exhausting.”

You just smiled, squeezing his shoulder. “Welcome to diplomacy, my dear.”

A rush of footsteps echoed through the courtyard as two more figures appeared at the top of the stairs—Andros and Evander, Cassian and Nesta’s sons.

Andros, the older of the two at nineteen, had the same broad build as his father, his wings tucked neatly behind him. His dark hair was tousled, as if he had just flown in from training, and his golden-brown eyes gleamed with mischief. He had inherited Nesta’s sharp features but wore Cassian’s signature cocky grin.

Evander, only a year younger, had a slightly leaner build but carried himself with the same easy confidence. His hazel eyes flicked over the gathered group, his mouth twitching as he took in Azer’s unamused expression.

“Well, well,” Andros drawled as he descended the steps, wings flaring slightly. “Look what the wind dragged in.”

Azer groaned, already regretting everything about this visit. “Is it too late to turn around and leave?”

Evander smirked, clapping a hand on Azer’s shoulder. “Afraid so. You’re stuck with us now.”

Avey, still in Cassian’s arms, wriggled excitedly. “Andros! Evander!”

Cassian huffed as she all but launched herself at Andros. He caught her easily, spinning her around before setting her down with a dramatic bow. “Princess Avey, looking as ferocious as ever.”

Avey puffed up proudly. “I am ferocious.”

Evander ruffled her hair. “You’re definitely something.”

Eris sighed, crossing his arms. “This is exactly why I warned her about manners.”

Andros grinned. “She has excellent manners. Just… selective use of them.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “That’s the problem.”

Azer, meanwhile, had taken a half-step away, clearly prepared to avoid whatever chaos his sister and the two Illyrian males were about to cause. But Andros, never one to let an opportunity pass, draped an arm around Azer’s shoulders.

“You know, I think I missed you, Vanserra.”

Azer shot him a deadpan look. “That’s unfortunate for you.”

Evander laughed. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

Azriel, who had been silently observing, finally spoke, his shadows curling lazily around him. “Let’s see if you’re still saying that by the end of the night.”

Azer muttered under his breath, “Cauldron, save me.”

The group made their way through the grand halls of the Night Court’s palace, footsteps echoing softly against the polished floors. The towering ceilings, carved with intricate constellations, seemed to glow under the soft faelights lining the walls. Despite Azer’s reluctance about this visit, even he had to admit—the place had style.

Rhysand led the way, walking with that effortless grace that spoke of his power. “Your rooms have been prepared in the guest wing,” he said smoothly, glancing over his shoulder at them. “I assume you’ll find them comfortable.”

Eris, walking beside you with Avey’s small hand in his, gave a slow nod. “We’ll see.” His tone wasn’t harsh, but it held that natural edge, that careful reservation he always carried outside of Autumn.

Avey, meanwhile, looked like she wanted to touch everything. She twisted in Eris’s grip, her wide amber eyes darting to the draped tapestries, the sparkling chandeliers, the darkened garden views beyond the windows. Azer nudged her as they walked, whispering, “If you break something, I’m not covering for you.”

Avey just grinned, whispering back, “You always cover for me.”

Rhysand led them up a spiraling staircase, gesturing down a long hallway. “Azer, your room is here,” he said, opening a door to a spacious chamber with deep sapphire accents and a view of the mountains. A large bed sat in the centre, draped in plush, midnight-blue blankets, and a small seating area was arranged near a balcony.

Azer glanced around, nodding slightly. Not bad.

Before he could step inside, Avey tugged on his sleeve. “Where’s mine?”

Rhys smirked, leading them a few doors down to another room. This one was lighter—rich purples and silvers, a few plush pillows scattered on the bed. Avey gasped and immediately ran inside, flopping onto the bed like she was testing its bounce.

“It’s so soft!” she exclaimed.

Eris sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Avey.”

She grinned up at him. “What? You said not to break anything. I’m not breaking anything.”

Rhysand chuckled, turning to you and Eris. “And yours is just ahead.”

He led you both to a grand chamber at the end of the hall. It was elegant but understated, done in deep, romantic hues. A large fireplace flickered in the corner, the carved wood furniture polished to perfection. The balcony doors were slightly ajar, allowing a cool breeze to drift inside.

Rhysand gestured inside with an amused smile. “If anything is not to your liking, feel free to send a complaint directly to my mate. I won’t listen, but Feyre is far more accommodating.”

You rolled your eyes with a soft laugh. “Noted.”

Eris simply exhaled through his nose, stepping inside and surveying the room. “It’ll do.”

Rhysand placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Such high praise, Vanserra.”

Eris didn’t dignify him with a response, instead turning toward you as Avey’s delighted giggles echoed down the hall. “Do you think she’ll last ten minutes before getting into trouble?”

You sighed, rubbing your temple. “Five.”

Azer, still lingering in the doorway of his room, called, “Two. At best.”

It was less than two minutes before a loud crash echoed down the hallway.

You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply before turning toward Eris, who already looked exhausted. He pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath, while Rhysand just smirked.

“Well,” Azer sighed, leaning casually against his doorway, “that didn’t take long.”

Eris shot him a warning look before pushing past you, striding down the hall toward the sound of what was probably destruction. You followed quickly, heart already sinking as you turned the corner and saw Avey standing in the middle of her room—innocently—while a large, ornate vase lay shattered at her feet.

Avey, to her credit, at least looked a little guilty. “It was an accident,” she said quickly, hands clasped behind her back.

Rhysand, standing beside you, let out a low chuckle. “That,” he murmured, “was an expensive accident.”

Azer sighed dramatically. “Told you.”

Eris’s jaw tightened as he crossed his arms. “Aveline.” His voice was low, measured.

The use of her full name made Avey straighten. “I didn’t mean to!” she protested. “I was just—spinning, and then I tripped, and then the table wobbled, and then boom.” She spread her arms for effect.

Cassian, who had wandered in with Nesta and Azriel behind him, snorted. “Gotta say, that sounds a lot like how Nyx used to be at that age.”

“I never broke anything that expensive,” Nyx muttered from the doorway, arms crossed as he took in the damage.

Nesta let out a long sigh before turning toward you. “Would you like some wine?”

Eris cut in before you could answer. “No. She’d like an explanation from our daughter about why she can’t stand still for one minute without causing a scene.”

Avey, still standing there with wide, innocent eyes, tilted her head. “Because I’m seven?”

Silence.

Azriel made a choked sound that might have been a laugh before turning away, shoulders shaking slightly.

Eris ran a hand down his face. You, on the other hand, took a long breath and crouched down to Avey’s level. “Sweetheart,” you said gently, “this isn’t our home. We have to be respectful of other people’s things, okay?”

Avey shuffled her feet. “I was being respectful. The vase got in my way.”

Nesta exhaled through her nose. “Oh, I like her.”

Rhysand, ever the amused host, simply waved a hand. The shattered pieces of the vase lifted from the ground, reforming smoothly before settling back onto the table, completely whole. He smirked down at Avey. “Try not to destroy my house before dinner, little Vanserra.”

Avey beamed. “No promises.”

Eris let out a slow, measured breath. “We are never visiting again.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples before glancing at Rhysand. “We’ll cover the cost,” you said, exasperated. “And anything else she manages to break before we leave.”

Rhysand chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. “Consider it a gift.”

You arched a brow. “A gift?”

He smirked, tilting his head toward Avey, who was now whispering something to Evander, her wide grin telling you she was already plotting her next grand adventure. “Yes. A gift for the sheer entertainment she’s about to provide.”

Eris let out a long breath beside you. “I don’t find it very entertaining.”

Cassian clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “That’s because you’re the poor bastard raising her.”

Avey perked up at that, turning toward her father. “Poor?” She gasped dramatically. “Are we poor now?”

Azer, from his place against the doorway, howled with laughter. “No, but you might be by the time we leave.”

Eris shot him a sharp look, but before he could speak, Avey was already looking up at you, big-eyed and curious. “Mama, if we’re poor, does that mean I can’t get a pet?”

You groaned. Rhysand laughed. Azriel, standing in the corner, only shook his head.

“I’ll set up a damages account,” you muttered, half to yourself.

Eris pinched the bridge of his nose. “Make it a large one.”

Rhysand, still grinning, waved a lazy hand. “Oh, don’t bother. I’ll just send you the bill when you leave.”

Eris shot him a deadpan look. “How generous.”

Rhys chuckled, but before he could retort, Avey tugged at your sleeve. “Mama,” she whispered conspiratorially, “if we are poor, maybe Uncle Lucien will buy me a pet instead.”

Azer, barely holding in his laughter, leaned down. “Go ask him. See what he says.”

Eris pointed a warning finger at him. “You encourage her one more time, and I’ll—”

“What?” Azer challenged, smirking. “Throw me in the lake? Again?”

Avey gasped. “You threw him in the lake?”

Eris exhaled, long and slow. “I’m going to throw myself in the lake.”

Cassian, grinning, slung an arm over Eris’s shoulder. “If you do, at least make it entertaining for us.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Alright, enough.” She glanced down at Avey, then at you. “Dinner’s in an hour. Maybe keep this one occupied until then.”

You glanced at Avey, who beamed innocently up at you, hands clasped behind her back.

Occupied. Right.

You sighed, rubbing your temple. “Come on, troublemaker.” You took her hand, guiding her down the hall toward your rooms.

As you walked away, Azer called after you, voice full of laughter. “Don’t forget to set aside extra for the damages bill!”

You didn’t look back, but you did send a sharp glare over your shoulder. He only grinned.

You led Avey through the dimly lit hallways of the Night Court’s palace, your hand wrapped gently around her much smaller one. The echoes of chatter and laughter from the others faded behind you as you walked toward the guest wing.

Avey’s steps were light, nearly bouncing with each one, her seven-year-old energy never seeming to wane. She swung your hand back and forth, humming under her breath, her mind clearly still buzzing with whatever mischief she was planning next.

When you finally reached your room, you pushed open the heavy wooden door and guided her inside. The Night Court’s guest rooms were just as grand as you expected—deep purples and blues woven into the tapestries, the furniture dark and rich with elegant carvings. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering golden light against the walls.

Avey plopped herself onto the edge of the large bed without hesitation, kicking her feet back and forth as she looked around. “It’s pretty,” she admitted, tilting her head. “But our home is better.”

You smiled softly, sitting beside her. “Of course it is. Your father made sure of that.”

She huffed, crossing her arms. “I still don’t get why we have to stay here so long.”

You brushed a loose curl away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “It’s important. These alliances—”

“—are important for the court. I know.” She sighed dramatically, flopping back onto the bed. “But it’s boring.”

You laughed, smoothing a hand over her wild red hair. “You sound just like your brother.”

Avey perked up, her sharp little fox-like grin appearing. “Maybe Azer and I should ditch again.”

You gave her a look. “Absolutely not.”

She giggled, rolling onto her stomach and propping her chin on her hands. “Fine. What can we do then?”

You tapped a finger against her nose. “Well, for starters, I can fix your hair. It’s a mess.”

She gasped, swatting your hand away with an exaggerated scowl. “It is not!”

You simply arched a brow, reaching over to pluck a leaf from her curls. Her eyes widened slightly before she let out a sheepish giggle.

“Okay, maybe a little.”

You shook your head with a smile and patted your lap. “Come here, little fox.”

With a dramatic sigh, she scrambled up and settled herself in front of you, small and warm against your legs. As you reached for her hair, she leaned her head back to look up at you, grinning.

“Can you make it fancy?”

You smirked, already separating the strands. “Of course.”

You gently combed your fingers through Avey’s wild curls, smoothing them as best you could before you began weaving the strands into a proper braid. The firelight cast a soft glow over the room, warming the deep blues and purples around you.

“Alright,” you murmured, sectioning her hair with practiced ease. “But you have to sit still for this, Avey. No squirming.”

She sighed dramatically but didn’t argue, her little hands settling on her lap. For a few moments, she stayed perfectly still—until, of course, she didn’t.

Her foot started bouncing first, tapping lightly against the floor. Then she wiggled her shoulders, twisting slightly to look up at you. “How long is this going to take?”

You pressed a hand to her shoulder, turning her forward again. “It takes as long as you let me work.”

She groaned, but you felt her settle again, at least for a moment. As you began braiding, she suddenly whispered, “I am being calm.”

You snorted softly, fingers continuing their steady work. “Avey, you have not been calm a day in your life.”

She gasped, twisting again to look at you. “I have too!”

You lifted an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? When?”

She blinked, mouth opening and closing as she tried to think of an answer. “Um—yesterday.”

You tugged lightly at her braid, a teasing correction. “Yesterday, you and Azer stole one of your father’s hounds and tried to race it through the halls.”

Avey giggled, completely unrepentant. “Okay, fine. The day before yesterday.”

“The day before yesterday, you convinced a servant that the kitchens were on fire so you could sneak extra pastries.”

She burst into laughter, tipping forward slightly. “Oh yeah! That was a good one.”

You shook your head, exasperated but smiling. “You see my point?”

She huffed, dramatic as ever. “Fine. Maybe I don’t like sitting still.”

“I noticed,” you teased, giving her braid a final twist. “But you can learn. And tonight, I need you to at least try to be patient.”

Avey groaned, slumping slightly. “I hate patience.”

You chuckled, tying off the braid and running your fingers over the woven strands. “I know, little fox. But I also know you can do it.”

She turned slightly, peering up at you with bright, mischievous eyes. “Maybe if I try really hard…you’ll let me ditch again later?”

You flicked her ear, making her squeak. “Absolutely not.”

You turned Avey gently by the shoulders so she was facing you, her bright, mischievous eyes still sparkling with the remnants of her laughter. But you gave her a look—a serious one—and the smile on her face dimmed just a little.

“Avey,” you started, smoothing your hands over the tops of her braids, “I mean it this time. You really have to behave tonight.”

She groaned dramatically, tilting her head back. “Ugh, why does everyone keep saying that?”

“Because we know you,” you said simply, tapping a finger against her nose. “You and Azer are two sides of the same coin, and if I leave you to your own devices, I know you’ll get into trouble.”

Her lips pursed in a pout, arms crossing over her chest. “That’s not true. Azer gets into way more trouble than me.”

You lifted an eyebrow. “You lit your curtains on fire last month because you wanted to ‘see what would happen.’”

She flinched, eyes darting away. “That…that was an experiment.”

“Avey,” you said, voice patient but firm. “This isn’t just any visit. This is an important meeting between courts, and I need you to try to be calm and well-mannered. I know it’s hard for you to sit still, but you have to be polite.”

She let out a dramatic sigh, flopping back slightly. “But it’s so boring.”

You held back a smile, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “It doesn’t have to be. You’ll have Nyx and Annavella to keep you company. Even Andros and Evander will be there.”

Her face scrunched up. “Evander is mean.”

“He is not mean, he just likes teasing you because you react.”

She huffed, looking away. “Maybe.”

You tilted her chin back toward you, waiting until she met your gaze again. “Avey. I need your word. No tricks, no sneaking off, no setting things on fire.”

She blinked at you, silent for a long moment, before muttering under her breath, “That last one is very specific.”

“Because I know you,” you repeated, trying not to laugh.

She sighed again, but after a moment, she straightened her spine and looked you in the eye. “Fine. I promise.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Good. Because if you break that promise, your father will be the one dealing with you.”

Avey froze, eyes going slightly wide. “... You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

She swallowed, then nodded vigorously. “Okay. No sneaking. No tricks. No fire.”

“Good girl,” you murmured, smoothing down her dress one last time.

-----

Rhysand’s office was dimly lit, the warm glow from the lanterns casting flickering shadows across the mahogany desk and the deep violet curtains that framed the massive windows. Outside, the Night Court’s sky was inky black, stars glimmering like shattered diamonds, but inside, the air was thick with the scent of aged whiskey and crackling firewood.

Cassian leaned back in one of the plush armchairs, his boot propped up on the low table between them, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “So,” he drawled, eyes flicking toward Eris with a smirk, “how long until one of our kids tries to kill each other?”

Azriel, standing near the window, gave a soft huff of amusement but said nothing, simply taking a slow sip of his drink. His shadows curled lazily around his shoulders, as if even they were relaxed in the presence of old friends.

Rhysand, perched behind his desk, arched a brow at Eris, who was sitting opposite Cassian, fingers tapping against his glass in thought. “Azer and Annavella in the same house?” Rhys mused, his violet eyes gleaming. “I give it two days before something catches fire.”

Eris scoffed, lifting his drink to his lips. “If we’re being honest, I’m more worried about Avey.” He took a long sip before lowering the glass. “She’s seven, but she’s clever—and she’s the one Azer indulges the most.”

Cassian snorted. “Sounds familiar.” He shot a glance at Azriel, whose shadows rustled in what could only be amusement.

Azriel finally spoke, voice quiet but edged with dry humor. “Sounds like she gets it from you.”

Eris smirked, swirling his whiskey. “That girl was born scheming. I blame her mother.”

Rhysand chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned forward to pour himself another drink. “Speaking of, how is your mate handling all this? I imagine she’s already trying to keep Azer from fighting anyone before the night is over.”

Eris exhaled sharply through his nose. “She’s trying, but Azer…” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He has my temper. And your son has yours.”

Rhys’s smirk didn’t falter, but there was a knowing glint in his gaze. “He does. Which means we’re in for quite the next few days.”

Cassian clinked his glass against Azriel’s, grinning. “We should place bets.”

Azriel shot him a look, but there was amusement there, lurking beneath the usual shadows.

Eris simply groaned, tilting his head back against the chair. “If my son sets something on fire, I am not taking responsibility.”

Rhysand only laughed, lifting his drink. “We’ll see about that.”

BUT i think i might make this a series of the events of their kids growing up to be leaders....

[gotham-daydreams]

Planned Fics [For Batfam]

Will be listing both Romantic and Platonic fics that I not only have planned, but will be trying to prioritize! This is not the full list of what I have in mind, but kind of what I'd like to show first at the moment! Oneshots and smaller ideas are not included, and everything here is going to be multiple parts long.

'Bite-sized' are smaller fics like the Not [ ] Series, 'Long' fics are.... well, long, and I consider them to be more on par with full-length fics people post on other sites and such. With 'Medium' being somewhere in between 'bite-sized' and long fics. They don't really determine the actual set length of a fic, but moreso how long I think they'll be in the long run- so its more of a general idea then anything else!

'Mixed' fics are also a, well, mix of both platonic and romantic yanderes - or have yanderes that I feel cannot be defined as solely romantic or platonic. Though for simplicity I have placed them under romantic or platonic, and will specify which ones I consider a 'mixed fic'. Romantic and Platonic fics are also fics that predominantly has romantic or platonic yanderes - which basically means that one or two of they may be different.

I will also keep the descriptions of each fic short as... well, if I don't, I think this post will be waaayy longer than it has to be.

With that out of the way, let's get onto the lists!

Platonic:

Flick of the Wrist (temp title) [Villian! Artist! Reader] {Medium (?)}

Destroying the city your father seemed to love so much turns much more personal when you realize that your entire family is composed of costume wearing freaks. At least your trying to spice things up, geez. Though, for a bunch of detectives.. they can be fucking idiots for not realizing who you are. Guess being ignored really did give you a leg up in that department, so, really, you can't be too mad about that.

One Chance (temp title) [Kidnapped! Reader] {Long}

They thought you didn't know. That you'd be too young to remember what they did that night, that you didn't know how they treated your parents. Though, over the years, you didn't really help clear that idea... if anything, you fed into it. You play their little game, just so that they all could fall into the very palm of your hands. No matter what they try to do, no matter how much power they think they have... they will never know that you're still waiting. Waiting and making sure that when the time comes, you'll finally seize your opportunity- but you have to do it right the first time. You know that there won't be a second, especially at this point. One chance is all you're getting, and you'll be damned if you don't make sure it counts.

Ghost [Heavily Neglected! Reader] {Bite-sized}

You were the ghost in Wayne Manor. That's what everyone called you. That's what even the media saw you as, and at this point, it was all by design. They gave you a role to play, and you've done everything you could over the years to see it through. But, what happens when you finally want to leave, and go haunt some other place? What happens when your family finally decides to do a little 'Ghost Hunting' after all the rumors?

Prodigy [Prodigy! Reader] {Bite-sized (?)}

Born from an affair, and after your mother's unfortunate passing, you are given to Bruce Wayne - possibly the richest man alive and with a booming buisness. Yet, having been born and raised in this industry, you were practically made to take over the buisness. You've proven time and time again that you're more than capable of it, along with keeping your family's secret. Buisness and work is all you know. It's how you've lived, and you saw no reason to explore or look into things outside of it - along with the money it brought. So why is you family so insistent about 'spending more time' with you? Don't you give them enough free time already?

Bond [Reader who is obsessively looked after] {Bite-sized - Medium}

You keep them together. You keep them sane. You are their family. They need you more then you will ever know, and nothing will ever take you away from them.

Even a Worm Will Turn [Spider-Man! Venom! Reader] {Long} [Also known as 'Waiting Reader'] [Sort of mixed?]

You were so young when everything went down. You didn't know any better, not with how you grew up before your adoption - and not with what followed after. It wasn't your fault, or was it? You didn't think so, you were still in highschool for crying out loud. You were still just a kid... but, it's no wonder you grew up hating them. It's no wonder that, when given an out - when actually getting a taste of what they had robbed you of, did you finally see past the barriers that your parents had put up and that they reinforced unknowingly. Yet, when you finally seemed tired of waiting, they came crawling right back. Though, this time, unlike before- you weren't alone.

Husband! Reader [Technically I have two ideas for this concept so.... no title or length- how I go about it is going to be a little weird so just trust the process on this one, folks!] (Married to Bruce... obviously..)

It was peaceful for a while, or- well, as peaceful as it could get in Gotham. With you just caring for your insane family, and your doting yet equally insane husband. Though, just being apart of this family... maybe you should've expected things to go sideways.

(The more Batfam focused idea is focused on the reader basically being flung into a different dimension that is essentially the reversed Batfam AU (so Damian is the oldest, Dick is the youngest and such). The other idea is more JL focused so I won't go into it here.)

Darkest Night, Brightest Day (temp title) [Batman! Reader] {Medium - Long (?)}

It's a wonder how you've come this far. From being the newest addition into the family, to now the only one who's left to dawn the mantle. The world needs Batman, after all, and though many have argued that you've likeness is too much like Bruce's, you just see that as a sign that your efforts are paying off. After all, you have sacrificed your mind, body, and soul to keep up with the original... especially with all that's happened. Especially when everyone else is dead. Yet, it seems life really does love tormenting you, and one day, people that look like your deceased family come stumbling into your world, and would you look at that?

Their Bat is alive, and more human then you've ever been in a long, long time... maybe it's about time you ask how the hell he does this job without having to do half of whay you've done just to keep up. Maybe then, you'll feel like you aren't disrespecting those that came before you.

Romantic:

Letters [Fan! Reader] {Medium - Long (?)}

Ever since you were young, you've always been a fan of the unusual family that was Batman and every bird and bat he seemed to take under his wing. So to show your appreciation, you wrote letters to each and every one of them... that you ended up being too shy to send. As you grew up, your appreciation and admiration seemed to grow with you - but it also did extend to the Wayne family, who, in your opinion, really did seem to be boing just as much good as the Bats when it came to Gotham. You loved the Bats so much you even trained and became a vigilante yourself... but, now that you work beside them.. you can't help but keep your letters closer to yourself. With them becoming more personal as you lost hope in ever being able to send a single one.

Though... maybe now you have an opportunity? Especially when they've taken notice of you too, and don't seem to realize that their admiration is matched.

Clover [Reader taken from a diff universe] {Medium - Long(?)} [Sort of mixed. Platonic -> Romantic for some.]

They took you away from a life you didn't know you missed, and tried to play it off as if the life you lived before was all a dream... as if it never happened. You believed them at first, and yet, it seemed that just as you were becoming the very thing they were trying to shape you into, they began to change gears. No longer did some of them want you to pose as a family member that had long since passed - but rather, you were supposed to be something more.

Brotherhood and Co. (temp title?) [Dilf! Reader] {Medium(?)} [Mixed]

You trusted him. You trusted him with your life- he was like your god damn brother- and yet, he stabbed you in the back. Betrayed you like no other, and they both knew for years. Years of your life wasted away loving that woman, just like that.

So it's no surprise that you took the kids and left. Left and tried to do what you could to provide them with the life you knew they deserved, and provide the stability you knew they needed. Yet, it seems that your dear 'friend' isn't quite done with you yet, and nor is his godforsaken family. You really should've known not to trust them from the start, but hell, it was your big heart that got you in this mess, isn't it?

Intruder [Isekai! Reader] {Medium(?)} [Mixed.] [Also has a JL ver. though, again, just focusing on Batfam/Gotham for this post.]

Who knew that a crazed fan like you would end up in this situation? What are the odds that you of all people wind up being an unexpected artifact of some insane villian who could open portals across dimensions, space, and time? Granted, you aren't the only one- but you managed to slip under the radar. With you being able to use your knowledge of the universe you've plopped into to survive, and make sure to not catch any unwanted or unwarranted attention. It'd be horrifying and embarrassing as hell to meet Batman, only for him to be able to easily see that you're a complete fucking loser..

Yet, even when they do find you, you manage to catch their attention too well. And now... well, let's just say that while it was their job to bring everyone home, it wouldn't hurt to let you stay, right? After all, you seem to be adjusting so well... it'd be a shame to let you go now, wouldn't it?

Never-Ever After [Friend! Reader] {Medium - Long (?)}

Being a friend if the Wayne's wasn't all too bad, especially when you're basically friends with everyone. So when they ask for your help, and also for tickets to concerts of a particular idol duo you're also friends with- you don't think anything of it. It slips your mind when they ask for you to introduce them to your idol friends, but it becomes a little odd when they begin to ask for more... personal information on them, and sure, you answer their harmless questions - but not much else. Even if you do know the answers, that's weird and an invasion of their privacy! Not to mention your friends' trust in you!

Then the threats start coming... and suddenly the Wayne kids aren't so friendly with you anymore... and you can't help but notice how obsessed they seem with your idol friends... and yet, when you try to cut them off and avoid them, its like you can't. Like they won't allow you to anymore.

It's only when your life starts taking a horrible turn for the worst do you even consider the idea that maybe... just maybe.. did their obsession turn to you instead?

Gotham's Finest (temp title) [Insane! Villian! Reader] {Bite-sized - Medium (?)}

With the villians, rouges, and thugs of Gotham as your main infulence in life, it's no wonder that you became a villian yourself - and not only that, but aspired to be just as good as the people who really brought terror to the streets of Gotham. You were one of the best, 'trained' yourself to be as such. So is it any real surprise that you catch the attention of the infamous Bat and his family once you finally take your crime to the next level, and begin to become active at night?

Maybe not, but the real kicker is how much they seem to love how you drive them absolutely insane.

Birds of a Feather [Winged! (Metahuman?) Reader] {Bite-sized - Medium (?)} [Mixed.] 《In Progress》

You hate them. You'd do anything to get rid of them. And you're friends- they promised that they'd help you find a way to get rid of them forver. They did- they... they said they would, and you trust them, of course you do! You'd do anything, anything to rid yourself of these cursed wings. But, you just couldn't wait. It was taking too long. So... you took matters into your own hands just a little, and had a solution! A cure! So why... why are your friends and their family looking at you like that?

These lists may or may not be updated- especially as they get posted and people ask questions. Again, these are moreso the stories I'll be trying to focus on after the Not [ ] Series. Though, to be fair, some things may be a bit different after that series in general, but no need to think about that just yet! Author here is just trying to think of how to go about certain things and organize some stuff, especially since I'll dabble a bit into JL and Superfam stuff down the line- but that's not important right now!

If your curious about anything, don't be afraid to send in an ask! Or even if you want to hear more about an idea, and so on and so forth.

Also, as I'm sure you can tell... naming things isn't exactly my strong suit 😅 I'm more of a plot guy, y'know? Love me a good, dark, horror-esc story!

[callooopie]

Modern!au Davos who's hooking up with one of his friends from their big friend group but they have to keep it a secret

Situation Situationship // Modern!Davos

I don’t want your body. But I hate to think about you with somebody else — Somebody Else // The 1975

chat I think I went too sad and not funny with this

What Davos offers you is a beneficial relation between you two. A humble friend’s with benefits scenario, a situationship if you will. An agreement between two friends born out of boredom and driven by the need to just fuck things out. This would have to not affect your friendship, with both of you sharing a friend group; the possible chaos of a relationship between you two would be too much. Rules were then set out: no pda, no posting, no exclusivity.

Plus you were already sorta talking to someone and he was a guy who didn’t like being tied down. And both of you knew that a breakup between you two would make the friend group weird. So Davos couldn’t really complain when you would talk about your other dates or some other guy. He bit his tongue as he let you vent about what went wrong, or what could’ve been better. Oh, that guy didn’t pay? Damn, you should always pay for the pretty girls. This was his grave, and he would lie in it.

Despite this being his idea, Davos really hates it actually. Which is a little funny. The thing that he insisted would not happen, happened to him. It’s a little hard not to fall in love, or not to become attached to you when you’re the only one who seems to understand him. In the daylight when you’re hanging out with the group, when your eyes don’t leave him as he talks, when you text him throughout the day about anything and everything. Your closest friend—Davos. Even worse when it grows into night and he’s in your bed or you’re in his. He does want to tell you to stop doing aftercare so good; the way you caress his face and card your fingers through his hair makes him feel too many things better left unsaid. He refrains from saying anything.

And maybe he thinks the no PDA rule is stupid too. He sees how his friends touch and hold their girls, his own fingers twitching by his side as he watches the displays. He wonders if you think about it too. If you think about the feel of his hand in yours, how different it could be in the daytime. How your held hands could swing back and forth as you walk along a path. Maybe he would pull you into a store that catches his eye, or down an alley to press you against the wall. He wonders if you like it when he holds your hand at night. Do you like it when his fingers press open your closed palm, interlacing his fingers with yours? He always thinks about how your hand is smaller than his. He knows it makes you shiver, his fingertips trailing down your back; he hopes his calloused hands feel gentle against your soft body, maybe just as soft as his kisses. He likes when you sit in his lap, because then he can look into your eyes as his hands slowly run down your spine. No matter the reason however, Davos knows his hand wouldn’t leave yours. Day or night, rain or shine. If the rule did not exist.

Secretly he either blocks your social media accounts or simply deletes the apps off his phone. He wasn’t a big user on those anyways, and to see you post about dates or what you’re wearing to them drives him up a wall. Davos doesn’t wanna think about it but he does; he lets his mind wander to what you would wear to a date with him. Would you like something more formal? A nice restaurant? Or maybe a laidback affair, a movie at his place where you could snack and hide under the blankets. He would offer you his hoodie, would you take it? You already wear his clothes when you’re around anyways, rifling through his closet like a little animal in search of the softest fabrics to wear after you two finish. Sometimes when you’re looking with your back turned to Davos, he’ll stare at you as you pick up shirts or toss them aside. He’ll say he’s attracted to your body, the way it curves or shifts with each singular step or movement. But Davos also knows different; he’s staring past the skin, past your intricate body, and looking—hoping—for you to turn back to meet his gaze. You never leave with them, no. You always give them back before you leave.

He wonders if you’ll think him pathetic or weird, if he begs you to stay. Davos isn’t sure what’s come over him this early morning. It’s your usual routine; you both get up, he makes coffee, you get dressed to leave. Davos knows he’ll throw up if he so much as takes a sip of the warm coffee, feeling too tense and anxious about what he could do—what he wants to do. You’re oblivious maybe, or you’re just ignoring how strange he’s acting today. His thoughts are racing: Don’t look at your phone, keep your eyes on him. Don’t turn away from him, don’t step toward the door. Don’t, don’t, don’t. Davos can’t believe it himself that he’s reached you before you’re even out the door. His breathing heavy as his hand remains wrapped around your wrist. His stomach does somersaults as you look back at him. Davos swallows thickly, he’s this deep in already, might as well keep going.

Whatever the outcome of his stupidity this morning; he hopes you’ll be at least somewhat kind in letting him down as he spills his heart out to you…

[samodivaa]

Deny the truth,set my world on fire (Part 1)

Bucky Barnes x Reader (Winter Soldier x Reader)

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ Part 2⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ Part 3 ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆* Part 4⋆*･ﾟ:⋆* He knew that she was having an affair...she denies, but the love marks on her body are still there. She can't tell him the truth, it will break him - the Winter Soldier is indeed inside of him, fucking her at night and Bucky doesn't remember. ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ Warnings - heavy angst, betrayal, smut, non consensual, dom!Soldat. rough!Soldat Words - 2000

Bucky was already waiting on the couch, tormented by the decision he has made – to confront her. Y/n enters their shared apartment, carelessly smiling at him. She seemed so generous about her love – a constant presence and support since the fight on the airport years ago. Grace and patience and consideration is what she made him master once again, these little qualities are in his control, thanks to her kind soul. Y/n helped him forgive himself and he chose to return love and compassion, chose to fight his past. Wakanda was their secret - beautiful and peaceful. Her heart was born open and although his hands were empty at the time, he filled them with the soft fire made from the two ember eyes. The dreamy mind is full, overflows with tender memories… When she enters a room, it blazes with red, pink, roses, but behind her blossomed spirit stood a façade he was not aware of. The floral presence is poisoned, spreading into him. And just like the deadly nightshade, she is indeed is a poisonous flower.

"How long has this been going on?" he asks coldly, taking a sip of his bottle before putting it back on the table. A stressed dove, mournfully looking at her as he gets up. "How long?" he asks again. „Bucky, what is the matter with you?“ There won’t be a chance of escape, he steps closer, towering over her as some sort of a warning. He just came back to life, laying under the warmth of it and is already being burned by the person who he trusted the most. Abstained for far too long, he needs to hear her says it – he needs the truth to devour his life. "Can I ask what happened to your neck?" pointing to her neck, his tone is still neutral, but his eyes are exhausted by the phantom following his mind the past days. Love makes knots, now it is brutally tearing them apart. He ran from the darkness of his nightmares for so long, only to find himself in a situation darker still. „I don’t know“ she is wearing a turtleneck shirt, she hates those – inside she is crumbling as much as her lies. “You don’t know?” his tone strays to the realms of anger – it consumes him, fear ensnares her until her back hits the wall behind, Bucky not withdrawing from her face even for a moment “Who was it?“

"No one, Bucky" she manages to retain her posture, not giving him the satisfaction of telling the truth. The blade of her words hit a nerve. "You’re terrible at lying" He crosses his hands, nails digging into his arms. Silence looms for a while before he nods, his dearest love painting his misery and his eyes ache with the weight of the unspoken truth. “So no explanation, got it" „I don’t know how I got them…“ Bucky’s eyes narrow slightly, trying to shackle his intention of breaking something. "So you have no idea what happened to your neck? Are you making fun of me or do you have brain damage“ his tone finally rises as he takes the collar of her shirt between his metal fingers, pulling it down rashly to reveal the bite marks. The image wraps around his throat as a wreath of spikes. “Who did that to your neck, because I am sure that it was not me“ „Jesus Bucky, why are you so angry, I didn’t do anything. We literally spend most-“ He laughs devilishly, still holding her by the colar. “Just so many bad things happening in my life. Nothing important, nothing new, just one thing after another, you know?” There is no such thing as life for him , it's just catastrophe. Unmoored and alone, his eyes become full of tears. The only still part is his body. He gives her one more chance to say something, to explain herself in any way, but the silence is pain chiselled forever into his chest, it hurts more than words. "Don’t be angry, please…let me go…“ "Don’t be angry…don’t be angry" he whispers as a lullaby, staring into her teary eyes. His eyebrows furrowed at her audacity to even cry. "We shared a life and you to cheated on me" His favorite beauty and terror on myriad levels keep her silence. He decides to let go of her collar, his fingers clenching to fists as their drop weightlessly to the sides of his body. "You expect me to believe this…? Really, y/n?” he says , his expression is still angry, but it appears softer "If you didn’t want to tell me because you‘re afraid, it‘s fine. Just be honest and tell me that, why are you still lying? That hurts me more than you think." „I am not…“ He stands there unmoving, staring at her and it seems like he‘s still processing this realty of her not having any concern towards him. Her mind is resting whilst his is grieving, wondering and reasoning. He can’t gain control of his dreadful spirit, he is the shell he was back at Wakanda. A tear runs down from the wet, dreamful eyes, landing on his cheek as he looks down, trying to hide it from her. Bucky takes a step away from her and rubs his eyes. His hands are shaking and it‘s obvious that he doesn’t want to cry in front of her. Their love is his apparition, a figment of his imagination. He observe her for a moment, he is dying in that house, buried underneath the floor of their shared past and she just watches it unfold. Bucky finally shakes his head in disbelief. "So you‘re telling me you have no idea where that bruise came from?" a weak laugh escapes his lips, choking back a sob. „You’re lying, I know it“ he says in a calm voice, but there was a quiet threat hidden beneath it. „I don’t want to leave, Bucky“ "And I don‘t want to get cheated on" he counters with an angry scream as his pain is infinite at this point. All kind of thoughts stirring inside of him. „I won’t say it wasn’t meant to be, because it was. We were. Only for a short while, maybe. But we were.“ It makes him tremble to remember their daily life, but now he is unsure which pain is worse: the shock of what happened or the ache for what never will. „I can’t tell you...I can’t...I will leave“ she whispers, having found a comfort in hiding. "Fine, leave then!” Bucky snarls, before he spins around as his heavy footsteps resonate through the quiet room, but he stops himself to look at her for the last time – the end of the line.

Bucky watches her leave, already nostalgic for his love. He doesn’t say a word, not even bothering to close the door as he stands in the doorstep, watching her go. Y/n notices him staring from the darkness of the doorway as she makes her way into the world. Bucky’s inner self is shutting down more and more, as though to protect himself, but it became inaccessible even to himself. Over the next couple of days, Bucky shuts himself completely in his lonely home. He only leaves the apartment to buy alcohol and some food. His days are spent either drinking or sleeping, and when he‘s awake and sober, he just sits on the couch blankly, staring at the wall. He is composed of nothing, but illness – a phantom built out of pain. The days turn to weeks. With his heart broken, he despises life. Rising from a grave with each morning, wallowing in his sadness and alcohol. („What went wrong...Did I do something wrong?”) he wonders for weeks repeatedly, tears again rolling down his cheeks. „What did I do to deserve this“ he screams, slamming his metal fist into the wall, there is nothing but a stain in his heart, it grew – infecting the whole heart. He slowly slides down, sitting on the ground as he buries his head into his arms and starts to cry.

- Two days before she left - „Bucky, baby…I don’t wanna do anything tonight, let’s just sleep“ he was getting harder and harder, pressing into her back to let her know. He whispers in her ear, but the voice is huskier than usual and filled with seduction „Цветок...“ (Flower) Bucky’s control is slipping once again and y/n gups at the realization. The metal grip tightens on her hip, drawing her even closer to his clothed cock. Fingers pass through the fabric of the nightdress, pulling it upwards to reveal her butt cheeks. His warm hand, spilled under her body proceeding to lightly trace his fingers over her nipple. She knows to her remove the panties by herself, not wanting to anger the Soldier from the very beginning as it happened last time. He groans, closing his eyes to savor the scent of her hair. Vibranium fingers digs his into her soft skin, leaving prints of evidence. „No, don’t…please…he will see“ she desperately tries to voice her concern, knowing there is no way of fighting him in this state. „Пусть он увидит…“ (let him see) His breath fanned the skin of her neck, sending chills to the bone.

He dragged his length through her wetness, pushing in fully leaving y/n with no time to adjust. Tears roll down her beautiful face, why this keeps on happening? The warm touches of his human arm move to from her nipple to her stomach „Я хочу ребенка...да.“ (I want a baby…yes) She takes a deep breath, sometimes regret settles in for not telling Bucky that the Winter Soldier was very present and real. He never seems to remember, they operate as different people. She whimpers at the cold touch to her clit, he was flicking it, making her body shake. His hand returns to her hip, grabbing it harshly as he starts thrusting deeply. His pace becomes erratic, being closer to his orgasm. Soldat forcefully holds her in place so he can fill her with hot cum. Her reality hurts so much. She wants to get away, but when she had tried before – resulted in him being close to sadistic. His fingers trail to her hair, removing it from her neck and he sinks his teeth. Goosebumps trickle up there, from fear, from pain as he slowly turns her head towards him – there is no sight of Bucky.

[pedriache]

English love affair — Pedri González.

Pairing: Pedri González x Bellingham!Reader

Summary: You and Pedri had spent one, long, night together. That changed when it became a regular event. For months the two of you had continued to meet up, but out of nowhere it ended. After the El Clásico, Pedri finally gets the nerve to tell you why.

Word count: 1.6k+

Disclaimer/s: mention of a hook up, reader is judes sister. Mentions of drinking & thats basically it! no actual smut or anything bc i do nawtt write that!

A/N: listened to this song and immediately had an idea.. and then i gave up at the end if you couldn’t already tell LFMAOO

It started during a hot weekend in May. You’d visited Barcelona to see some of your old college roommates. They suggested club hopping, and who were you to decline some fun?

You were sitting on a bar stool, waiting for your drink when you first noticed him. He was easily recognizable, despite the dark clothes he wore to blend in with the crowd. He looked undeniably handsome under the dark strobe lights.

When his eyes found yours, a mixture of curiosity and confusion washed over his face. Pedri was only slightly tipsy, a few drinks in, but he felt sober. So, seeing the slight grin on your face he made his way over, abandoning his friends to get to you.

“You’re Bellinghams sister, right?”

You had nodded, sticking out your hand to introduce yourself. “Fancy meeting you here.” You quip, “drink with me?”

It was no secret that you loved attention. You were a model and your brother was famous, you were practically born for the spotlight. Having Pedri’s attention though, it was a different kind of euphoria.

The rest of the night was a blur. Sneaking out of Pedri’s house with a hangover, was a blur. What wasn’t a blur was when it happened the second time. It seemed that you had given him your number, and he wasn’t shy to use it.

Every trip you made to Barcelona, you stopped by. A little affair nobody knew about, your own secret that seemed to add more fuel to the fire.

When you moved to Madrid, Pedri’s desire to be near you had only increased. All he’d been thinking about since may was you. Every night before he went to bed—it was you on his mind.

During an international break, one that for once; Pedri hadn’t been called up for, you invited him to Madrid. It had been a while since you saw him and you would have been lying if you said you didn’t miss him.

He showed up at your place with a cautious smile. “Your brother isn’t going to make any stops by is he?”

You shook your head with a laugh, “he’s in England.” That’s all Pedri needed to know before he was cupping your face in a long awaited kiss.

Pedri was the first to break it off. He hated the sneaking around, the distance, and the fact that you were unintentionally distracting. He couldn’t get you off his mind during practice, sometimes even during games. He couldn’t have you on his mind during the El Clásico—but he didn’t tell you that.

Instead he opted for the slow ghosting. Less texts, calls, meetups, then, eventually, nothing.

You tried not to show it, but it hurt. You weren’t supposed to be upset about it, but you were anyways. Jude had noticed the change in your usually bright mood, but you couldn’t tell him.

How would you even begin to explain? ‘Hey bro, i’ve been sneaking around with your rival. Oh! And I might have accidentally fallen for him!’ Absolutely not.

The day of the El Clásico, you’d joined your family to support Jude. Up in the stands, you couldn’t help but look for him. You hadn’t seen Pedri in well over two months. He looked handsome, his face stern and focused as he walked onto the pitch.

He wouldn’t be able to see you from the pitch, but a part of you wished he could. Maybe then you’d get some answers as to why exactly he’d broken things off. A look in his face to give you the answers you do desperately wanted.

Barcelona won. The rival team. Madrid lost, and badly. You should’ve felt more disappointed, that was your families team, your brother’s team. But when you saw Pedri, his face wide and smiley, you couldn’t help but feel elated for the man.

Shit. You were so screwed.

“Why are you smiling?” Jobe grimaces.

Your smile falls, “just thought about something funny. My bad.”

That night, at the hotel while you wallowed in your own pity, a notification on your phone has you going through a dozen mood swings.

Pedro: Come over ?

First came anger. You had typed out a message calling him many, many rude names.

The second was guilt. You deleted the text, your fingers hovering over the send button as you typed out a quick apology.

The third was relief when he replied by saying;

Pedro: It’s okay, I deserved that.

Then you finally allowed yourself to smile, sending a quick, ‘omw’ before climbing out of your bed.

Pedri’s house was only fifteen minutes from the hotel, so you hadn’t bothered to come up with an excuse as to why you were gone. You texted Jobe to ask if he wanted anything from the store though, just in case.

You knew the front door was unlocked when you arrived, but you couldn’t simply walk in. Too much time had passed and you figured it was too awkward now.

Knocking lightly, you were surprised when the door swung open almost instantly. Slightly taken aback, you take two steps away from the door. “Hey!” You cover up with a quick greeting.

Pedri was flustered, his cheeks holding a twinge of red to them, which after months of seeing it, you never had enough of. “Hey.” He smiles, “come in.”

Walking past Pedri into the foyer, you slip off your shoes before trailing further into the house. It hadn’t changed in the last few months, except—oh! There was a puppy jumping at your legs.

“Nilo!” Pedri groans, “down!”

Laughing, you bend down to pick the pup up, holding him in your arms as he panted. “He’s so cute, when did you get him?”

“Uh, a while ago.” He shrugs. “Do you want anything? A drink?”

Shaking your head, you scratch Nilo’s head, your adoration growing when his eyes closed and his tail wagged. “No, but I would love to take this little guy home.”

Pedri rolls his eyes, laughing through a breath. “Funny. Go wait in the living room, I need to put his food up for the night.”

Doing just that, you find yourself getting comfortable on the couch, letting Nilo curl up in your lap. By the time Pedri returns, the dog is fast asleep. He grins at that before sitting down a few feet away.

“I’m sorry.” He finally admits, not beating around the bush or explaining, just apologizing. When you don’t say anything, Pedri leans his head onto the cushion and watches you.

You were clearly deep in thought, staring at Nilo with furrowed brows and pursed lips. “You ghosted me, Pedri. Out of fucking no where. Why?”

“Because you are a distraction!” He snaps, rubbing his jaw. “For months, all I could think about was you! It was messing me up and I needed to focus on the games not you.”

Oh! Okay, well. Right.

Now you just felt stupid. A blush spreads across your cheeks, although a sense of pride washes over you. He couldn’t stop thinking about you?

“You’re smiling.” Pedri interrupts your thoughts, “why are you smiling?”

Your gaze flickers to him, “you think about me often?” There is a twinge on teasing mixed with genuine curiosity in your voice that has Pedri’s eyes rolling and his lip twitching.

“Unfortunately.” He admits, which only had you elated.

You nod, looking back to Nilo. “I suppose I could forgive you for that.” You scratch the black dog’s ear, smiling when he yawns and stretches across your lap. “That is, if you don’t ghost me again.”

Pedri sighs, “I won’t.”

“Then you’re forgiven.”

“Hear me out,” Pedri starts, sitting up straight in his spot on the couch. “I take you out. On a real date.”

Your head snaps in his direction, “but—I though you—“

“I take it back. I don’t care who sees. I want to take you out.” He scoots closer to you on the couch, arm wrapping around your shoulders. “So?”

Tilting your head up, you force your wide smile to be suppressed into a closed lipped grin. “I would love that.”

“Good. When are you in Barcelona next?”

“Whenever you want me to be here, i’ll come.” You say simply, attention turning back to Nilo, who was waking up.

Pedri watches his dog as well, “i’ll let you know when i’m free again.” He tips his head, pressing a kiss to your jaw. Your head dodges him, “Ay—“

“You ghosted me, you still have to make up for that.” You giggle, “and I have snacks to acquire for my brothers who are going to kill me when they see us in the tabloids in the near future!”

Groaning, Pedri leans away. “Fine, fine. Text me before you leave to go back home, yeah?”

“As I used to do.” You press a kiss to his lips and gently set Nilo aside on the couch. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

And with that, you were gone, making a pit stop at the store for snacks before getting back to the hotel. Jobe opens his door after you knock twice, to which you find Jude sprawled across the couch watching TV. “About time.” He quirks an eyebrow when you drop a bag on his lap.

“Is that dog fur on you?” Jobe questions, taking a peak at your shirt.

Your happy smile drops, “oh! A stray.”

“You could’ve gotten rabies.” Jude comments, to which you ignore.

“What are you watching anyways?” You ask, plopping down beside your brother, examining the TV. You were so not prepared for hell to break loose when they find out what really happened tonight.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future pedri posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @sakashq @hrts4havertz @joaoflms @spidybaby @gadriezmannsgirl @unx100to !

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Ann Sheridan (I Was a War Male Bride, City for Conquest, The Man Who Came to Dinner)—she was called 'the oomph girl' and i think that deserves a vote

Marlene Dietrich (Shanghai Express, Witness for the Prosecution, Morocco)—its marlene dietrich!!!! queer legend, easily the hottest person to ever wear a tuxedo, that hot hot voice, those glamorous glamorous movies.... most famously she starred in a string of movies directed by josef von sternberg throughout the 1930s, beginning with the blue angel which catapulted her to stardom in the role of the cabaret singer lola lola. known for his exquisite eye for lighting, texture, imagery, von sternberg devoted himself over the course of their collaborations to acquiring exceptional skill at photographing dietrich herself in particular, a worthy direction in which to expend effort im sure we can all agree. she collaborated with many other great directors of the era as well, including rouben mamoulian (song of songs), frank borzage (desire), ernst lubitsch (angel), fritz lang (rancho notorious), and billy wilder (witness for the prosecution). the encyclopedia britannica entry im looking at while compiling this propaganda describes her as having an “aura of sophistication and languid sexuality” which✔️💯. born marie magdalene dietrich, she combined her first and middle names to coin the moniker “marlene”. she was a trendsetter in her incorporation of trousers, suits, and menswear into her wardrobe and her androgynous allure was often remarked upon. critic kenneth tynan wrote, “She has sex, but no particular gender. She has the bearing of a man; the characters she plays love power and wear trousers. Her masculinity appeals to women and her sexuality to men.” in the 1920s she enjoyed the vibrant queer nightlife of weimar berlin, visiting gay bars and drag balls, and in hollywood her love affairs with men and women were an open secret. she was an ardent opponent of nazi germany, refusing lucrative contacts offered her to make films there, raising money with billy wilder to help jews and dissidents escape, and undertaking extensive USO tours to entertain soldiers with an act that included her a playing musical saw and doing a mindreading routine she learned from orson welles. starting in the 50s and continuing into the mid-70s she worked largely as a cabaret artist touring the world to large audiences, employing burt bacharach as her musical arranger.

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

"ms dietrich....ms dietrich pls.....sit on my face"

"First of all, there are those publicity photos of her in a tux. Second of all, I have never been the same since knowing that she sent copies of those photos to her Berlin lovers signed "Daddy Marlene." Not only is she hot in all circumstances, but she can do everything from earthy to ice queen. Also, she kept getting sexy romantic lead parts in Hollywood after the age of 40, which would be rare even now. She hated Nazis, loved her friends, and had a sapphic social circle in Hollywood. She also had cheekbones that could cut glass and a voice that could melt you."

"Did a bunch of humanitarian work during ww2, pretty sure a shot of her from Shanghai express was the inspiration for one of queens album covers and also her in the suit in Morocco (1930) CHANGED LIVES. I’m sure she’s already been submitted but I wanted an opportunity to submit one of my favourite pictures of her for the poll"

Bisexual icon, super hot when dressed both masculine and feminine, lived up her life in the queer Berlin scene of the 1920s, central to the 'sewing circle' of the secret sapphic actresses of Old Hollywood, refused lucrative offers by the Nazis and helped Jews and others under persecution to escape Nazi Germany, the love of my life

Her GENDER her looks her voice her everything

“In her films and record-breaking cabaret performances, Miss Dietrich artfully projected cool sophistication, self-mockery and infinite experience. Her sexuality was audacious, her wit was insolent and her manner was ageless. With a world-weary charm and a diaphanous gown showing off her celebrated legs, she was the quintessential cabaret entertainer of Weimar-era Germany.”

"The bar scene in Morocco awoke something in me and ultimately changed my gender"

"Her manner, the critic Kenneth Tynan wrote, was that of ‘a serpentine lasso whereby her voice casually winds itself around our most vulnerable fantasies.’ Her friend Maurice Chevalier said: ‘Dietrich is something that never existed before and may never exist again.’”

"Songstress, photographer, fashion icon, out bisexual phenom (notoriously stole Lupe Velez and Joan Crawford's men, and Errol Flynn's wife, had a torrid affair with Greta Garbo that ended in a 60-year feud, other notable conquests including Erich Maria Remarque -yes, the guy who wrote All Quiet on the Western Front- Douglas Fairbanks Junior, Claudette Colbert, Mercedes de Acosta, Edith Piaf), anti-Nazi activist. Marlene was a bitch - she had an open marriage for decades and one of her favorite things was making catty commentary about her current lover with her husband, and her relationship with her daughter was painful- but she was also immensely talented, a hard worker, an opponent of fascism and the hottest ice queen in Hollywood for a long time."

"She can sing! She can act! She told the Nazis to fuck off and became a US citizen out of spite! She worked with other German exiles to create a fund to help Jews and German dissidents escape (she donated an entire movie salary, about $450k, to the cause). She looks REALLY GOOD in a suit. If you're not convinced, please listen to her sing "Lili Marlene". Absolutely gorgeous woman with a gorgeous voice."

Gifset link

"Bisexual icon and Nazi-hater. Looks absolutely stunning in the suits she liked to wear. 'I dress for the image. Not for myself, not for the public, not for fashion, not for men'."

"would you not let her walk on you?"

[k1ng0k]

Australasia AU comeback

AU Lore:

China planned to declare war against Western countries unless Oceania is seized by Asia, and becomes part of the region. In an attempt to resolve the issue, America and the UK advised Australia to surrender to China but Australia refused. A war happens between China and Australia. Obviously Oceania countries and other allies provide support for Australia. However, China unexpectedly attacks NZ via bombing him resulting in his near death experience. With the promise of chivalry from America, UK and Japan on the way, only Japan arrived. After being "abandoned" by who Australia thought was somewhat their family, China took the chance to strike a deal with him. Becoming his partner and seizing the Oceania in exchange for bringing NZ back to life. Sadly, Australia agrees and NZ recovers with the support of China’s aid. This leads to the geopolitical divide between Oceania, Europe and Asia. In order to protect the Oceania from further invasion, Australia comes into an agreement with China and they join ties. Leading to the unity of Oceania and Asia. As a result of this, Australia and China have a successor known as Jīnsèa, which takes over the eastern coastline of Australia. However, Australia has other children not known to China for future plans of breaking the agreement.

China & Australia’s relationship becomes the opposite from how they were before the war. China has become more content, relaxed and considerate knowing his region is secure alongside the delusion he believes he knows best. Australia has become older, grumpier and more vigilant. China’s sudden calm demeanour is off-putting to Australia as China acts so laidback and gentle. China treats Australia and the Oceania like family, trying to shower them with gifts and aid since he wants a closer relations with the region. To China, it feels natural but for everyone else it’s awkward and weird.

Jīnsèa is the child of Australia and China. Jīnsèa is only favoured by China but not Australia, which is who Jīnsèa wants to be with the most. As the "love" child and unity between China and Australia, Jīnsèa is a tropical convergence connecting Queensland and New South Wales coastlines into one country. With Australia already having so much diversity, he's predominantly an Asian country and heavily influenced by Chinese culture, and cuisine. Regardless, his personality and behaviour is more similar to Australia.

Australia’s other children are held more favourably than Jīnsèa. His daughter, Riosalia, who was made with Brazil & his younger son, Subastéri, who was made with Antarctica. China doesn't know about the affairs Australia had with Brazil & Antarctica, but Jīnsèa finds out about Subastéri (not knowing they’re brothers). Subastéri is the convergence of Australian and New Zealander Antarctic territories, with a collection of isolated cities throughout. Being born in the most isolated region/ country, Subastéri is still a developing country with limited resources (provided by Australia). To get on good terms with Australia, Jīnsèa keeps Subastéri’s existence a secret from China but there's rivalry between Jīnsèa and Subastéri.

[asilaslaughters]

TATYANA ROOT

--------------------

Tatyana is a person who can speak with her teeth in a second.

Her mother did not love her and Tatyana had to achieve it herself through pain and sweat. She has a younger Brother, and he was loved more than her, even deprived of food. She worked part-time and bought her own food, and soon she moved away from them and cut off all ties. She met Drayton by chance at a gas station when she came to look for work, when they saw each other they felt a slight sympathy. Over time, when she was working, she learned the bug’s secret, Drayton had to kill her, but changed his mind at the last moment, he explained everything to her and surprisingly, not even a muscle flinched on his face and simply agreed. After a while, she got a job at a slaughterhouse, honing her cruelty by killing animals, and not just the old way of beating with a hammer. Over time, she was able to direct her cruelty onto her first victim, it was a couple who got lost along the way. She killed them by cutting their carotid artery with a knife. After that, she asked Drayton to help him and he agreed. Tatyana charmed and manipulated victims when she abducted them. Four years later, Tatyana met her first and last husband, a week before her pregnancy, Tatyana was cutting meat, Drayton came up to her and asked, “It’s already late, maybe you’ll stay with me today? The house is not rich, but... it’s warm there,” she just nodded and smiled at him. “I hope my hubby won’t be jealous,” a shadow flew through Drayton’s mind about the mention, but he carefully hid it. When she became pregnant he fell into despair, he wanted to be with her. No one understood her like he did, and he has known her for a long time. When Alice was born, he promised that he would take care of her as if he were his own, and would not let anyone get hurt. After Alice was born, her husband left Tatiana and left a letter with a photo of him with a stripper and showing his middle finger. And there was a note: “I don’t need this child and such a naive fool like you, good luck.” She didn't sleep in a rage no. She found where this stripper worked, based on the photo and the background. From the beginning, she brutally killed her, cutting her into pieces, and found her ex. And she cut into his organ, silently, and calmly left. When Tatiana was sitting at work in the evening and Alice was in the Slotters’ house, Drayton approached her nervously. “Tatyan...I’ve long wanted to say, I like you, not just like you. I’m in love with you, from the first meeting and...” She looked at him, there was pure anger in her eyes and, getting up, she began to scream, “MY HUSBAND RECENTLY LEFT ME, IT’S FUCKING HARD FOR ME, I STAYED WITH MY DAUGHTER. AND YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT LOVE NOW? NO! DO YOU HEAR? I WILL NEVER BE WITH YOU. Tatyana cried for the first time, tears flowed in a stream from years of accumulated troubles, she took Alice and went to her home.

For a year she cut off ties with the Slotters, a year later she restored communication, but there was no more talk about love and recognition.

Tatyana loves her daughter very much, she takes great care of her, and manipulated her perfectly until she was 18 years old. When she found out about the affair with Johnny, she was very unhappy. She wanted Alice to be happy, but not with Johnny, she saw his affection for her when she was a child. Although he said when he was five years old that it was not interesting to be with Alice. But when Tatyana came after work to pick up Alice, she saw that Johnny was hugging her and sleeping on the sofa.

Johnny is afraid of Tatyana, he knows what she is capable of and what she will do for the sake of her daughter. He always tries to act Calm even if he has to do it through clenched teeth.

-----------------------------------

ALICE ROOT(SLAUGHTER)

--------------------------------

Alice Root (Slaughter) 1973-1974 she was 19 and 20

Birthday: May 29, 1953.

Alisa lived with her mother Tatyana, her father left as soon as she was born. They lived poorly, her mother had to work long hours in several jobs. From the first month after birth, Tatyana left her to the Slotters. Nubbins and chop top played with her as mother's daughters, Sissy cut fabrics from the victims' clothes and crookedly sewed dresses for Alice. Bubba treated her as an equal; if she moaned because she couldn’t speak, then so did he. She didn't care about Johnny, they were five years apart. but if they left him, he looked at her and pulled her cheeks with the words “What big cheeks, do you eat a lot or something?” But she always laughed and did not cry in his arms. Tatyana, on the other hand, worked in a slaughterhouse and helped Drayton with the capture of victims and worked part-time at the cash register at his gas station. When Mother took her, Nubbins ran up and gave Alice a small bralset made from the teeth of the “B-BEAUTIFUL GIRL” and quickly ran away.

She stayed with them every day, and during the summer they had her completely for three months. Alice grew up, and when she was 10 years old, it was the last summer with the Slotters due to one incident. She was sitting on the porch, it was a hot day, she heard a scream from afar and did not betray the meaning and made a trinket from pieces of bones and flowers. But the scream intensified with every second, she raised her head and saw Johnny, at that time he was 15. He was covered in blood, he screamed and flew into the house, breaking everything. Alice got scared and looked around to see if there was anyone nearby, but there was no Sissy, no Nubbins, not even Bubba. She ran after him into the house, through drops of blood she found him in the kitchen, he was washing the blood from his face and whining, swearing under his breath. Alice just wanted to calm him down and help, noticing a large cut under his eye, she tried to calm him down, “Listen, everything will be fine! Uncle Drayton will come now and..” but before Johnny could finish, he hit her with all his might, causing her to fall, the noise in her head turned into a loud ringing. Johnny shouted at her, “YOU ARE TIRED OF BEING SO KIND! I HATE YOU, YOU STUPID SHEEP” and left. Alice did not cry, rather she was even shocked. She didn't say anything to Drayton, she just asked her mom to pick her up in the morning. When she got into the car the next day, she looked at their house for the last time and noticed Johnny in the window, the cut was deep, she didn’t know what Nancy had done. He pulled back the torn curtain and disappeared into the shadows of the house.

Alice went to a regular school and was an average student. Always stayed late in art class. But in the last year, her performance dropped significantly, and she dropped out of school. For a month she worked part-time for her mother in a slaughterhouse and was taken to a detective agency by an old friend of Tatiana. She has a good ability to notice details and an autographic memory for faces. At one of the first investigations, she took evidence from a corpse with maximum decomposition, surprisingly the only one who did not lose consciousness or vomit from the smell, she wrote down possible evidence, checked the facial features that the maggots ate. It was possible to find the killer only two months later; it turned out to be the ex-husband of this victim; he shot him in a field because she was cheating on him and threatened with divorce and payment of elements. One evening when Alice arrived, she saw her mother drinking whiskey on the sofa in the living room. Tatyana called her and said the following: “Baby, listen to what I tell you. It will sound absurd, but, remember Uncle Drayton Slotter? So...” She explained everything to her and Alice thought about it. Cover them? It’s a big risk if everything is opened and they imprison you. But she did not know how she could understand where and how they would be killed or kidnapped, until the time when she herself did not notice it. At the scene of the disappearance of the guy alone, Alice noticed a torn bralset on the ground made of human cartilage. She hid it in her pocket and pretended to be looking for shoe prints. This is how the family went into hiding. Alice later decided to meet Drayton for the first time in many years.

When he saw a glimpse of pain in his facial expression, he said, “You have grown up to be as beautiful as your mother.” they hugged, but there was tension between them. He invited her to come to their home and Alice tried to refuse, but he insisted, and she went to them alone.

[pascaloverx]

OUR SECRET — MYG

EPILOGUE

Summary: You and Yoongi are having an affair. No, you are not being his lover. But the world is not ready to know that an idol is dating someone. So you two were doing your best to make sure no one found out. Until he breaks up with you. His mistake.

Author's note: Hello dear readers, did you miss me? I decided to write this extra chapter to complement the end of the fanfic. I hope those who read it will enjoy and comment. Thank you for your attention.

PREVIOUS

Yoongi is rocking the show tonight as he performs his newest song. Your daughter, Min Yebin, is in your arms, wearing noise-canceling headphones to block out the noise of the concert. You've come to support your husband's show with your second child together.

"If you want, I can hold Yebin for you while you go talk to Yoongi," Namjoon says as he plays with Yebin's little fingers. You watch Yoongi's fans singing along with him. It's beautiful. He looks so happy.

"I think it's best if we stay here. Yebin seems to be enjoying watching her father from afar and I know Yoongi won't concentrate properly if he sees Yebin. From the moment she was born, he became an overprotective father." You answer Namjoon who came to accompany you two to watch a show on Yoongi's solo tour. You almost had to force him to do the tour while you were pregnant. A second pregnancy after the loss of our first daughter made you both very afraid.

"The show will end soon. Then I'll take you backstage. Yoongi will be so happy to know that you came to see him." Namjoon speaks as you watch Yoongi's show. Yebin even with the headphones, moved her feet as if she were dancing to her father's songs. After a couple more songs, Namjoon took the two of you backstage so when Yoongi finished the show with the next song, he could see his daughter. And that's what happened, he finished the show very emotional and while you were giving your daughter a bottle, he approached you.

"The love of my life came to see me at work." He says taking your baby in her arms and showering the baby with kisses. Yebin laughs loudly as her father gives her lots of affection.

"I thought I was the love of your life. But it looks like I've been replaced by my own daughter." You say and Yoongi gives you a peck on the lips.

"You are much more special than being the love of my life. You gave me the love of my life. I can't believe you came to see me." He says excitedly as he rocks your daughter in his arms.

"We came to get you, Yebin wants her father to put her to bed. And know that she became your fan." You say holding your daughter's fingers. She takes your hand and tries to put it in her mouth to bite. Her teeth are growing and now she wants to bite everything.

"I just need to give my fans some love and I'll meet you in the car in a bit." Yoongi kisses your mouth softly and then puts your daughter in your arms. You go with her and Namjoon to the car. After a while, you and Yebin fall asleep while she is in the car seat and you are sitting next to her, holding her little hand. When you wake up, you are already in front of your house with Yoongi.

"You and Yebin were so beautiful sleeping that I didn't have the courage to wake you up." Yoongi speaks as he get Yebin out of the car. You get out of the car right away. Namjoon must have gone home while you were sleeping.

"Let's put her in her crib. Then you're going to take a shower, you're all sweaty." You say giving Yoongi your hand while he holds Yebin with his other hand.

"You're married to me and you can't stand my sweat? I thought you loved me." Yoongi says, kissing her cheek. You open the door and you enter the house, going straight to your daughter in the crib.

"I love you but everything has a limit. Even don't forget to check if Yebin needs a diaper change." You say placing her baby bag on top of her closet. Yoongi lifts the still sleeping Yebin and sniffs around your daughter. He makes a disgusted face and you know the diaper must smell. Then he changes her diaper while you get ready for bed. Yebin just sleeps all the time, which is good. You only hear Yoongi say that he loves Yebin and that he wants her to sleep well as soon as he finishes changing her diaper and puts her in her crib. When he closes the door to your daughter's room and goes to your room, you turn to look at him.

"Since I have to go take a shower, why don't you come with me?" Yoongi speaks close to his ear while you are already on the bed waiting for him.

"What do I get from that?" You ask looking at your husband who smiles mischievously.

"If you follow me, you'll find out..." Yoongi says after taking his towel and taking off his clothes as he enters your bathroom. It doesn't take long for you to go after him.

END

[gojoscalico]

Turn Back Time || s i x

Summary: You were never sure when it started to fall apart but it did. 10 Years later and now you're facing him again. Will it reignite the feelings you both once had for one another? Or will you both end up walking away from each other once again? Word Count: 2228 A/N: WARNING!! MENTIONS OF CHILD ABUSE. Her story past is finally revealed.

Tag List: @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @thefictionalcharacterssimp @picievi @tqd4455 @lenasvoid @gojosatorubrainrot @yozora7154 @luciiferian

<- Previous Next ->

“So who’s going to go first?” You were anxious. You were about to reveal everything that had happened ten years ago and you were scared that Satoru would hate his clan. Or worse maybe even hate you for lying and running away. “I’ll go first.” You looked up at Riko who took a sip of her drink before speaking, “Satoru and I are not actually in love or engaged. The only way that we could stop my sacrifice to Tengen-sama was if the Gojo clan was supporting my decision. Also I am actually dating Suguru.” Riko let out a sigh of relief, cheeks tinted red as she said the last part of her statement. Suguru placed his hand on hers with a smile that made you so sure he was  absolutely enamored with her, “You did good, baby.” You felt a rush of relief. It took everything in you to not smile. He hadn’t moved on. It was fucked up but you were happy because that would just mean that maybe after you tell him everything you can be by his side again. You looked around the table to find only Hime was shocked. Typical. Of course all three of them knew their deepest darkest secrets but left everyone else out. “Wait What?!” You slightly giggled at her slightly exaggerated reaction. Satoru watched you giggle. There it was. Your sweet innocent smile he had missed. A smile he hadn’t seen since the day you vanished. 

You cleared your throat, “Okay I guess it’s my turn.” You felt everyone’s eyes suddenly focus on you. ”For my story it goes back before I had even met the three of you…As you all know my past wasn’t exactly the easiest, I have never told anyone about it. Not even Satoru, I never had the chance.” You paused as you started to feel your heart beat faster. Here you were about to talk about a part of you that you had never once told anyone or spoke to anyone about unless they already knew about it. You took a deep breath. “My mother hated me. That much you all knew when you saw the bruises and the cuts on me when we had all first met.” You paused. You never realized how painful those memories were for you until you mentioned it. Satoru watched as you bit the inside of your cheek. He knew you were stopping the tears, a habit that he knew you picked up from the abuse. “The reason she hated me so much was behind the secret of my birth. My mother’s family is a very affluent family. They had political pulls, so when they found out that their youngest daughter had gotten pregnant, unwed, they had tried their best to hide the scandalous affairs. They were quick to find her a husband to hide the fact that she was pregnant from some unknown man. Except to my mother that man wasn’t unknown. It was just someone that had been born with no status or money. Something my grandparents had required from her. She tried to run from her family but they had been one step ahead and murdered him. Losing the love of her life she took it out on me. At first she was just negligent of my needs, she never cared to pick me up or hold me as a child. Everything really just escalated when she had a child with her husband. She cared for and loved her in a way she never was able to with me.” You choked on your words. For once you realized that you were jealous. Jealous that you never received that warmth from her but it was all too late now. So why were you hurt by it? 

 “Her husband was never home because he just wanted to be connected to my mother’s family,for their influence on his political career, since being married to my mother he was able to become more successful. He did care for me and my sister. He would buy us toys and he would read us stories, he would give me the parental love I lacked from my mother. And he loved me because to him I was his first-born…But my mother was jealous of the attention he was giving me so in a drunken state, one night, she told everyone…including myself the truth behind my birth. Then just as she wanted all that had stopped. My father would push me away or completely ignore me when he was home. At this point I was alone, even the maids had treated me like trash since they knew my parents didn’t give a damn about me…Just like how she wanted.” 

Satoru watched as you weren’t able to stop the tears any longer. “Then the abuse escalated as I got older. She would hit me,starve me, burn me,or cut me. But only in places no one would ever find, I always wore baggy clothes or long sleeves. The dresses I wore were always past my ankles. Like a doll on display they made sure I looked picture perfect. To keep their little illusion that our family was perfect, alive. I mean after all I am still a politician’s adored daughter. I mastered smiling at a crowd and waving when I had two broken ribs from a beating I received the night before. At school, my sister’s friend’s would make my life a living hell. Of course no one did anything. But all the reasons for my resentment towards her to grow. Because why was I receiving this treatment but she was always clothed in the best brands, given the best food,and was protected from harm. Wasn’t I their daughter too?” You wiped your eyes as the tears started to blur your vision. Remembering the times when she would make friends you made somehow hate you or move away. “Then I started to see things, curses. Created from my mother’s hatred towards me,  my father and sister’s indifference to my treatment and the way everyone around me treated me. It manifested into something that was killing those around us. I was able to see them and I tried to protect them…but instead they blamed me and wanted me gone. Dead.”

Satoru’s heart sank. He can only imagine how you felt knowing that the people who earned a God-given right to love someone as precious as you wanted you dead. He clenched his fist, he thought how right you were not to tell him about this when he was younger because he knew he would’ve killed them for even thinking about killing you. He didn’t understand why they were unable to find the need to protect your sweet innocent smile he fell for. “So they heard of the sorcerers, called them to come and exorcize me, I suppose. That’s when I met Principal Yaga. Everyone around me had harbored such great hatred for me that the curse they had manifested was a special-grade.” You laughed, pain being so apparent in it. You began to sob as you remembered the fear you felt that night. At sixteen you were sitting on the floor of your childhood home’s basement. Looking up at the man towering over you as his gaze softened realizing that you weren’t the threat. You remembered trembling but quietly accepting your fate. To die in his hands. You remembered just as clearly as Principal Yaga did, the look of defeat on your face. You had already gone through so much, so as an act of kindness he brought you to his world. You had always remembered to thank him for his decision that day. You recalled that for the first time in the past ten years you endured your abuse, you cried. You sobbed uncontrollably as he picked you up and coddled you like you were his own child. You remembered asking yourself that maybe if your father had lived you would know the warm embrace of a parent’s unconditional love. You held your hands to your mouth to muffle the whimpers you let out between your sobs. Too busy muffling your sobs you hadn’t realized that Satoru was now sitting next to you.

“I…I remembered how he looked at me that day. But I also thought that was it. I was going to die finally. I did think about how I can fight it. But why? Next thing I knew the curse started to attack the Principal and I didn’t want anyone else to die so with the little energy I had left I activated my curse and saved him. That  was when he decided to protect me. To save me. For my family they aren’t dead but they did hand me over to Principal Yaga...willingly. They told everyone they knew that I had died from an illness and so now I live in the shadows as a long-lost relative of the Yamaguchi clan.” 

You paused as you looked up at Satoru who is now where Suguru had been. He had a pained expression painted on his face. You were embarrassed now that he knew your pathetic past. “I was born as a curse.” Satoru’s face cringed as he felt the pain of you calling yourself a curse. Because to him you were a blessing, a blessing bestowed to him by the gods. Because he alone was the honored one and he strongly believes you are his greatest gift. “Something who reminded my mother of the love she lost. I never thought I deserved love until I met you. But the Gojo clan…they heard about us. Our ‘great’ love story they called it. So they looked into my birth and looked into my past. They were able to find out about the history behind my birth father. And they told me that for you I wasn’t good enough. They said that if you were to become the strongest I would have to let you go.That my past would only hold you back…that the same way I held back my mother, who was now thriving now that I was gone.” You sniffled, looking back on the pain of seeing your family happily on tv. Smiles that reached their ears. Something they had never been able to do when you were in their life. Recollecting your thoughts about their lives being better off if you hadn’t been born. “Seeing that they were right, my family had been better since I had left. Because I was their curse. I thought about how I was affecting you all. Both of you almost dying and Shoko almost losing Haibara…all those would never have happened if I hadn’t showed up. That’s what I thought…so they forced me to make a decision. That I leave while you were unconscious or I stay and you no longer become part of the clan.” You bit your lip as you remembered looking to Principal Yaga for help. You looked at him to defend you, to protect you as he did when he saved you from your family. Your heart shattered as he averted your gaze and agreed with the elders. And once again you remembered that you were alone. In this world there is just Y/N, everyone’s adoration will fade in time even if they state how much you mean the world to them because if they found out about your history they will hate you just as much or maybe even more than your mother did. And that was something you wouldn’t be able to handle. To watch Satoru lose interest in you. To find him resenting you for making him choose between being a Gojo or being with you. 

“I didn’t want you to resent me for taking what you thought made you so great. So I left for Kyoto, where I made sure there was a wall between where I stood and where everyone else stood. All I wanted was the best for you. For all of you.” You said while flailing your arms as you sobbed harder. You felt Satoru pull you gently into his arms. A warmth you have always craved and missed. “I’m sorry…”  Satoru heard how defeated you were. He can only imagine the agony you had felt when you decided to carry the burden of leaving him. He patted your head and you sobbed into his arms as if you were a child again. “I’m sorry…Y/N…all this time I resented you when I should’ve been there to protect you.”

“Those fuck-ass geezers. They picked at her weakness. Played her trauma so that she would leave you willingly. I should’ve known something was off…I’m going to kill those fuckers.” Suguru stated as he watched his two best friends torn apart by a generation that cared nothing more than who was gonna stay on top. Cared more about the past that they completely neglected the youth with their dumb ambitions.  “And I knew everything…I didn’t say anything because it wasn’t my place but if I had stepped in and told you…” You shook your head as you walked up to Shoko hugging her. “No…I know now that we weren’t at fault. It was the adults who exploited our feelings and emotions. So don’t apologize!” Shoko cried harder as she saw you plaster that smile that always felt like home to her.

[miusmusings]

peteway kimkenta royalty au? 😳🥹

Hi hi hi! This is so late, I've been awfully busy with a lot of stuff lately T^T sorryyyy T^T

So I had actually forgotten what this wip was about and had to search to my folder lmao

The premise of this fic (it's on the more unplanned side of wips) is that Way And Kenta are Tony's two sons, but Tony's a shit father. So, Way, enigma, heir to the throne and the eldest of the two, starts conspiring with a rebel leader called Pete to overthrow Tony. Kenta, who is more loyal (he has Issues, is a beta, and he craves the sweet sweet toxic fatherly affection), tries to stop Way.

But he cannot, because he knows Tony is not just a bad father but also a bad ruler, and partly because Way and Pete combined are just too good to be stopped.

Tone dies, Way comes to the throne and is mated to the Pete, the rebel leader and another enigma, and they are supposed to have an happily ever after, except that Tony has left a shit ton of problems, and Pete, the Lord Protector and Way, the new King, must sort through them.

On the other hand, Kenta, who is now living considerably better and safer, is wracked by guilt because he saw his father die, and he knew he was going to die, but didn't try to stop it.

One day in the garden, or in a council meeting (Way encourages Kenta to participate in state affairs, unlike Tony). he meets Kim, the new minister from Pete's faction.

Kenta dislikes Kim from the start because

Kim was one of the main figures behind Tony's assassination. Pete and Way were there too, but Kenta can't hate them (and he doesn't really wanna blame anyone since he knows deep in his heart that Tony deserved it), he tries to blame Kim, even though the reason sounds awfully flimsy to even his own ears.

2. Kim belonged to the commoner class, and from childhood Tony, as well as Kenta's tutors, had told him how "vile and horrible and unworthy" the commoner were. But Kenta... likes him, and he's disgusted by his own reactions, and what easier way to deal with feelings than lump them all together under the label of hate and disgust?

And Kim also ins't fond of this highnosed, uptight prince, but he knows how important Kenta is to way, and way is important to pete, and kim values everything pete has done for the commoners, so even though they spat a lot, he still shows Kenta the respect he's owed.

And he sees Kenta as a person rather than what most other noble council members see him - a beta trying to push himself in places where he doesn't belong. But the peasants have never placed much importance on subgenders - they were too busy trying to survive, so Kenta's just another council member to Kim.

A pretty one, sure, but Kim won't covet things far out of his reach.

Then one day, Kenta presents as an omega during a council meeting (he was a late bloomer boo), and the entire kingdom is upturned because everyone eithet wants to bag up a royal omega and share the royal bloodline for themselves (the noble faction), or send Kenta to an advantageous foreign marriage alliance for the betterment of the kingdom (the commoner faction).

Pete and Way are torn because they feel a civil war might be imminent, and Kenta well... he thinks it would be perfect if he was never born.

At this time, Kim swoops in and proposes Kenta to marry him, and promises he'll treat him well.

Kim is all 'ik we don't love each other (except he does, a little), but I promise i'll treat you well', and kenta's all 'oh he doesn't love me, how can i make him get into a loveless marriage even tho i love him?'

but they have to get married, and in secret too, because that's the only way to calm the two factions down. they can't keep on fighting when the prize of already gone, right?

anyway, kentakim fall in love within weeks everyone is happy :D

[strawberrysundi]

George & Maria

way too late with this, so i'm really sorry to that anon who asked me about my headcanons for them ages ago... but since it's the anniversary of MOTHER 1, i figured i should finally sit down and do it! :D

So, without further ado, here's my own personal take on George and Maria, the two who started it all...

[As always, this is all my own vision for these characters, it differs a lot from other interpretations and since I'm particularly interested in them I kinda go off the rails with it. Hope it's enjoyable!]

So, things begin with Maria! She was the daughter of a fairly wealthy family, born on the later side of the 1800s in a rural part of Eagleland. She was kind, outgoing, positive to a fault, and well-liked by everyone in the town she lived in. She hosted most of the town's events and celebrations, most often at her family's estate, and no one was excluded.

Also, she was trans. This was something of an open secret, although she never talked about it, and most of the locals considered it impolite to gossip about. But since she'd been in the public eye since she was a child, it wasn't something that went unnoticed.

George was an out-of-towner, who showed up one day and quietly settled in, accompanied by a friend of his (his personal doctor, apparently. This is a weird oc that just kinda came into existence naturally, and he just kept showing up afterward... really need to give him a proper name at some point). He was a quiet person, although he got along well with the people he spoke to. He never spoke of where he'd come from, or why he'd left there. Mostly he preferred to stay indoors and write (he was something of an aspiring poet).

He never really paid much attention to the affairs of Maria's family, but one day he just happened to overhear some passing gossip while in town, and what he heard astounded him. He immediately knew that he had to meet Maria himself.

George had never attended any of Maria's parties, not being one for large social events, but he made sure to attend the next one as soon as he could. It was there that the two finally met. George was immediately captivated by her, and the more he spoke with her, the more he knew he was in love. She loved the way he spoke and looked at the world, and she wanted them to keep talking as long as they could.

The whole party passed, people left, until it was just the two of them. They were still talking and now, privately, George could finally reveal his own secret, too.

George was like Maria in a number of ways. However, he'd struggled far more with his own identity than she had. His family hadn't accepted him, had tried to force him into being someone he couldn't be, and so he left. Besides Maria, the only other person who knew about his secret was his doctor, a close friend of his who he'd always confided in. He'd had little hope he'd ever find anyone else who could understand, but he'd never even considered there might be someone else like him.

By the end of that night, they were already in love. They met more and more after that, never wanting to be without the other's company. He loved the way she sang, she loved to help him with his poems. She loved to tease him and say that he looked just like a penguin. When they went into town together, everyone wondered how this strange, quiet man from out of town had captured Maria's heart so well. Eventually, they were married, and after their daughter Rosie was born, they decided to move to a small, quiet town further away.

Just at the edge of the town of Mother's Day/Podunk, they built a small house on top of a hill (George's doctor came with them of course, as loyal as always. He moved into his own house just a short walk away, at the bottom of the hill). And so they lived there, husband and wife, their daughter growing up, and everything was happy.

When Rosie was about 8, a shadow fell over the town. Things lifted off the ground and flew across the room, animals went wild, and people vanished from their homes without a trace. When the morning came, George and Maria were gone.

Unfortunately, I think I'm gonna have to split this post. There's still plenty of George and Maria's story left to tell, and I think there's too much to get into in just one part. (also i still have some things i wanna work out for giygas...)

In any case, that's the story of how George and Maria met, right before everything goes wrong and the course of history is changed forever! I really love thinking about how many things turn out the way they do because of these two people. Without them, Giygas wouldn't have turned out the way he did, without Giygas, Porky would never have gone down that path, and without Porky...

So I've become super attached to my interpretations of these characters, and I really love giving them a larger spotlight. ^^

Hope this was fun! And happy 35th anniversary to MOTHER 1! :D