#is him being like usually it's a man who supports his wife and puts her needs above his own why does that make him a wife. albeit a 'male'

[maddy-ferguson]

every time i see the word malewife my life expectancy decreases

[sansaorgana]

— LADY OF THE ROSES (I)

PART TWO || PART THREE || PART FOUR

PAIRING — Ser Gwayne Hightower x fem!Reader // Tyrell!OC

SUMMARY — When Lord Tyrell organizes a huge tournament, the rumour has it that the winner might get his eldest daughter's hand in marriage. When she finds out that certain twins are not playing fair and are scheming together with her father to win, she finds herself a champion she wants to succeed instead – Ser Gwayne Hightower, who was sent by his father to win the tournament.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is a Tyrell. Although I am not sure if we have even seen them in House of The Dragon, so they can literally look like anything...? 🤔 Thank you so much for reading my last fic with Gwayne and leaving lovely comments and messages! 🌹 It inspired me to write for him again and I already have more ideas for him and a Tyrell Lady Wife (although I don't think the fics will be connected, so they can be read separately). For some reason it makes SO MUCH SENSE to me for Gwayne to have a wife from Highgarden! Some sexual things are mentioned here but there is no actual smut, so I didn't put the warnings. 😉

WORD COUNT — 5,040

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

LADY OF THE ROSES (I)

Beautiful courtyards of Highgarden were filled with tents and knights. The sound of horses and clinging armour reached your ears as you were taking a stroll between the tents – against your father’s wish. He didn’t want you to walk freely around all those knights but you had your own guards and your curiosity had no match because you knew perfectly well what that expensive and flashy tournament was about.

You were in the right age to marry – some would say the age was more than right, too right even. You were Lord Tyrell’s eldest daughter and out of all the three sisters, you were the only one who still remained unmarried. The reasons behind that were two. First of all, you were a picky and proud Lady. Second of all, you didn’t want to leave Highgarden and The Reach.

Your father hoped that your marriage would create a powerful alliance and as a daughter of The Lord Paramount of the Reach and The Warden of the South, you were quite a catch for your suitors. Walking amongst them, you saw them turning around and staring at you with smirks. You were the only Lady around and your pale green dress was showing off just enough of your virtues in a typical Highgarden fashion. There were golden roses in your hair and golden eyeshadow on your eyelids as you were all dolled up for the first day of the tournament.

You took a turn around the Lannister tent and you hissed at the sight of your father. Thankfully, he was not looking in your direction and you managed to hide behind your guards but you ordered them to stand still. You wondered why your father was even by the Lannister tent. Talking so openly to one of the knights participating in the tournament was a clear favouritism.

“Thank you, Lord Tyrell, your support means a lot,” Lord Lannister said and you tried to see him better from between your guards’ shoulders. You didn’t like him at all since arrogance was written all over his face.

“It is no secret for all the men here that I would like you to win. It is a formality,” your father lowered his voice. “An alliance between such big houses… It would make us both stronger,” he put his arm around The Lannister. “But I liked the idea of the tournament. It has splendour, don’t you think? I like to show off,” you father grinned.

“As I said before, I am no knight. My younger twin brother is,” Lord Lannister said and your father looked around before shushing him and they both entered the tent.

Curiously, with furrowed brow, you peeked inside the tent despite your guards’ protests. And you nearly gasped at the sight of another man inside who was being prepared for the tournament as a squire was putting his armour on. He looked identical to the man your father was talking to.

“My brother, Ser Tyland, will pretend to be me during the tournament. No one will know,” Lord Lannister told your father and your father nodded at that. “I will sit and watch, pretending to be him. I will be criticising his techniques out loud just like a real knight would criticise his foolish brother who takes part in a tournament without being a knight,” he explained, very proud of himself.

He wouldn’t be the only man who wanted to take part in this tournament without the title of the knight. After all, everyone was aware that the prize was your hand in marriage and you didn’t necessarily need a knight. There were lots of common Lords joining the tournament but they were all honest with their intentions. Not only Lord Jason Lannister had your father’s favouritism but he also was planning to obviously cheat by using his brother.

It made you angry as you carefully took a step back and nodded at your guards to follow you down the path. It seemed like the whole tournament was just a show and a theatre play – you were no longer excited since the end result seemed to be fixed. You would be sent to Lannisport to marry that annoying and arrogant Lord Jason Lannister. Tears filled your eyes and you didn’t even care about your makeup anymore since you no longer longed for the tournament to begin.

You walked past the greenest tent around and saw a man in auburn hair washing his face outside. He noticed your staring and looked up with a dashing smile. He recognised you immediately from the portraits and your clothes. Also, what other Lady would dare to take a walk here? Only the one for whom the tournament was taking place.

“Lady Tyrell,” he bowed his head but his blue eyes were still on you.

You sniffled your tears back and straightened yourself.

“Lord…?” You asked and turned your head to see the banner on the tent. “Lord Hightower? No, that cannot be. Lord Hightower is in King’s Landing, is he not? And he is much older. He is The Hand of The King Viserys,” you tilted your head a little.

“You mean Otto Hightower, my Lady,” the man nodded with a smile as he approached you. His armour wasn’t fully on yet and you could see his shirt slightly open. “I am his eldest son, Ser Gwayne Hightower,” he introduced himself and reached his hand out.

After a while of hesitation, you allowed him to kiss the palm of your hand.

“Ser Gwayne Hightower. You are a brother to our Queen Alicent! Are you to inherit Oldtown after your father’s death?” You asked.

“That is correct, My Lady,” he nodded and straightened his back.

You hummed to yourself. Oldtown was in The Reach and it was the second largest and most populated city in the Seven Kingdoms. To get there from Highgarden, a horse needed around ten days down the Roseroad. You had been there before a few times with your parents but you had never met Ser Gwayne before. 

You looked him up and down. He had a cocky grin on his face but there was something about him that you actually quite liked – especially compared to Lord Jason Lannister. Ser Gwayne seemed to be confident but in a different, less exasperating way.

“Did your father encourage you to take part in this tournament, Ser Gwayne?” You asked him as you raised an eyebrow at him. “I do believe he is known for being an ambitious man.”

“Yes, my father insisted on me taking part,” Ser Gwayne admitted. “But I do not mind it myself.”

You nodded at that. Well, a union between your houses seemed to be right. You were both from The Reach and perhaps The Tyrells were more significant but The Hightowers were a real power, especially now. Sadly, your father seemed to be fixated on that whole idea of you marrying a Lannister.

Unless… Unless you would interfere somehow.

Your silence was interpreted by Ser Gwayne as a sign of exhaustion or boredom, though. He nodded his head and took a step back.

“It was nice to meet you before the tournament, my Lady,” he bowed his head. “I know there are dozens of knights around but, please, do remember about me while choosing your champion, I humbly ask,” he gave you one more dashing smile before walking inside his tent.

As a Lady for whom the tournament was taking place, you had the right to choose your champion. A man you favoured. Although, since the unofficial prize was your hand in marriage, it would be very awkward for a man who was not your champion to win. You assumed that your father would try to force you to choose Lord Jason Lannister.

And you had been right. Now, when you were holding a golden rose prepared for this occasion as all the knights were standing in front of you and your family in the audience, your father squeezed you by your elbow. He leaned in to whisper into your ear:

“You shall give the rose to Lord Jason Lannister and name him your champion,” he said with a fake smile before moving away.

You swallowed thickly and took a step ahead to be able to reach the man you would choose. You glanced at The Lannister man on the horse – Tyland, pretending to be Jason. And in the audience nearby you there he sat – Jason, pretending to be Tyland. Your eyes met for a second and he grinned at you confidently although he had no idea you were aware of his plan.

You searched for a different pair of eyes now, amongst all the knights. And then you found them, the blue ones. His armour had beautiful ornaments and even his horse was armoured. It all looked so elegant and you smiled at the sight.

You bit on your lower lip. But was he a good knight? Did he actually stand a chance to win?

Well, you were about to find out.

“Ser Gwayne Hightower,” you took a few steps to the right to be closer to him as he commanded his horse to take a few steps ahead. “I choose you to be my champion,” you smiled at him and leaned in to hand him the golden rose.

“Lady (Y/N) Tyrell, it is an honour,” he bowed his head and you saw in his eyes that he was quite surprised that you had named him amongst all the men your champion. He took the rose from you carefully and pinned it to his armour before closing his helmet and returning to the other knights.

You took a deep breath in before walking away to take your seat. Your father’s burning gaze was nearly painful but your mother kept smiling, unaware of the schemings.

“That’s Otto Hightower’s eldest son. The Queen is his sister,” your mother babbled to your father. “Our daughter has chosen wisely,” she smiled at you. “And he’s handsome and quite young.”

Your father ignored her words and gave you a deadly glare instead but you only huffed and walked away, locking your eyes with Lord Jason again. The real one, sitting in the audience. He was not grinning anymore.

Thankfully, Ser Gwayne turned out to be an excellent knight. Sadly, so was Ser Tyland Lannister, pretending to be his brother Lord Jason.

On the second day of the tournament, they already got rid of most of their opponents as they defeated them in combat. Some of the knights were seriously wounded.

On the third day it was already known that the last duel would be between Ser Gwayne and Ser Tyland. Everyone was taking bets and your father was gritting his teeth.

All this time, you were carefully watched by him and you had no opportunity to speak to any of the men taking part in the tournament. But on the night before the last, fourth, day when the final duel would take place, your father had thrown a feast, during which you were approached by Ser Jason Lannister.

Or Ser Tyland. Were they pretending to be each other during feasts as well? You were tempted to ask but you had no courage to do so.

“Lady Tyrell, there should be songs about your beauty,” he bowed his head and you bowed down.

“Lord Lannister,” you mumbled out, uninterested. “Why aren’t you busy writing them then?”

Your mother looked at you with terror in her eyes but you ignored her.

“Oh, believe me, I do not have time for such frivolities although I wish I had. However, my duties in Lannisport are many. My treasure is full and I shall spoil you with my goods when you are my Lady Wife,” he grinned at you, luring you with his wealth.

“You sound so sure that you’re going to win, my Lord,” you pointed out.

“Oh, I am sure. Ever since you named that Hightower knight your champion, I am determined to show him his place. But I hold no resentment towards you for your choice. I do realise that you, women from The Reach, like to tease,” he winked at you and you had to pretend his words were not an insult. Even your mother gasped a little at his boldness.

“I cannot believe you would spoil me with your wealth for nothing in return, my Lord,” you raised an eyebrow, curious of the response.

“Well, of course not. Like every husband I want my wife to be obedient, easy on the eye and give me many, healthy children,” he informed you. “Sons, I mean,” he fixed himself. That arrogant smirk was still on his face.

“I think your father is calling us,” your mother saved the day as she quickly took you by the arm and excused you both to walk you away from Lord Jason. “Oh, what an insufferable man! Sadly, your father seems to be fixated on the idea of you marrying him. And you know, dear (Y/N), after all the matches you had dismissed in the past… You just can’t say no now. Especially at your age,” she looked at you sternly, but still worried.

You didn’t answer that. You simply nodded your head and walked away to go outside and catch a breath.

You kept walking ahead of you, leaving the noise of the party behind you. You wanted to be alone and despite the darkness, you knew where you were going because you knew this garden better than yourself.

You entered the maze to hide in your favourite spot but after a while you heard unfamiliar steps behind you. You gasped and turned around to see a male silhouette, which caused a shiver go down your spine. If something happened to you now, unguarded and with no one to rescue if you called for help… You didn’t even want to imagine the consequences.

“That is only me, my Lady,” you heard a familiar voice and the man took a few steps ahead. It was Ser Gwayne Hightower, smiling at you.

“Ser Gwayne!” You pretended to sigh with relief but the truth was that you didn’t trust him either. You trusted no man who was creeping up on a Lady like that. “We shouldn’t be left alone without a chaperone,” you pointed out.

“Forgive me, I saw you running away and quite upset. I wanted to make sure nothing bad would happen to you as you wandered off from the crowd without any guards following you,” he lowered his voice as he approached you.

You swallowed thickly. He was right in front of you and behind you there was a tall live-fence that was making it impossible to escape. As he leaned in, his auburn hair fell onto his face and you felt it tickling your cheeks. That close he was.

“How chivalrous of you,” you breathed out, starting to feel dizzy. You had never been so close with a man.

He looked down, his gaze fixated on your tight, revealing dress. Your breasts were squeezed under the silky golden fabric.

“What if I don’t win tomorrow?” He asked as he lifted his eyes up again to meet yours. “Lord Jason is surprisingly good, especially for a man who is not a knight.”

“It’s because it’s not him,” you confessed with a heavy sigh and Ser Gwayne furrowed his brow at you.

“Are you suggesting that…?”

“I am not suggesting, Ser. It is true. I know from the very beginning, I have overheard them talking to my father. My father wants me to marry Lord Jason Lannister and this tournament is nothing but a show-off. He was angry at me for choosing you as my champion,” you told him.

Ser Gwayne seemed to be confused as he took a step back and you surprised yourself because you wanted him close again.

“That is… Unhonourable and disrespectful,” he pointed out. “Do you wish for Lord Jason to win as well, my Lady?” He looked at you, intensely.

“No! Why would I choose you as my champion then, Ser?” You shook your head, desperate to make him believe you.

“To toy with me, perhaps. Or to tease Lord Lannister,” Ser Gwayne pointed out.

“I do not wish to have anything in common with that man,” you huffed.

“And me? You do not know me, do you, my Lady?” Ser Gwayne smirked as he leaned in again, his nose nearly brushing yours as he put his right hand on the live-fence above you. You felt so small underneath him suddenly.

“What do you expect from a wife, Ser Gwayne?” You asked, swallowing a lump in your throat and he looked confused at that question as if it was a stupid thing to ask.

“Loyalty, of course,” he answered.

“And that’s it?” Now you were the surprised one. “What about children?”

“Well, it would be nice to have them, don’t you think, my Lady?” Ser Gwayne chuckled and rubbed your nose with his.

“What if I am flawed like my mother and I can give you only daughters?” You bit on your lower lip, slowly getting drunk at the feeling of having him so close.

“Then we shall make them all great ladies of great houses. My sister is The Queen. Us, Hightowers, we are ambitious,” he told you. “And I have many younger brothers who can produce their male heirs. The future of my family is safe whatever I do,” he assured you and raised his other hand to caress your cheek with his fingertips.

At first, you got startled at his touch as if it was causing you pain because you were not used to being touched like this by a male hand. But then, after a short while, you gave in and hummed to yourself, making him smirk.

You leaned back onto the live-fence and arched your back, connecting your crotch with his. You had no idea what made you do that… It was as if your instincts were telling you what to do. And it felt good.

“Don’t,” Gwayne scolded you and took a step back as you whined.

“Aren’t you here to claim me just in case you lose the duel tomorrow?” You asked, feeling your cheeks heating up. You couldn’t believe the boldness of your own words.

Lord Lannister had been right about the women from The Reach, apparently.

“Perhaps you should have not made me your champion, Lady Tyrell, if you think so lowly of me,” Ser Gwayne bowed his head and turned around to walk away, leaving you alone; confused and full of embarrassment.

One thing was certain – he was messing with your head. You couldn’t stop thinking of him all night long, touching yourself to the thoughts of him standing so close, to the memory of his touch and his voice.

You would rather die than marry Lord Jason Lannister. Any attempt to imagine anyone else other than Ser Gwayne touching you, was making you physically sick.

You watched with fear, clenching your fists on the railing and leaning down to see better although, at the same time, you didn’t want to see; you were that scared.

You knew that people had been betting on who would win this combat. And more people had bet on The Lannister. Your eyes followed the golden rose attached to Ser Gwayne’s armour, though. You only wanted to keep looking at him as you prayed to the gods old and new for his victory.

The combat was fierce and long. Both of the horses got hurt and taken away and the two opponents were standing face-to-face now, having to duel with their swords on the ground.

Lord Jason Lannister – the real one, the one in the audience – stood up and clenched his fists on the railing, too, as he watched his twin brother.

“Come on!” He yelled and that was when the other Lannister struck Ser Gwayne down. “Yes! That’s right!” He cheered alongside the audience. Then, he looked at you with a smirk.

“Ser Gwayne!” You exclaimed in a high-pitched, scared voice.

To your relief, your champion stood up after taking the blow and you clenched your fists even tiger around the railing. You wouldn’t be surprised if you broke the wood with your hands.

After a few more attempts to strike each other down, both opponents were roaring with frustration. And then you spotted Ser Gwayne taking his helmet off and throwing it aside as people gasped.

Was he insane? You had been thinking that he was a rational man but apparently much less than you expected.

He looked up at you and nodded his head as the wind ruffled his auburn hair a little. You had to admit that he was presenting himself very handsome and you were aware that the helmet was limiting his view during combat but it was still very risky.

When you nodded back, he went back to the fight. His strikes and blows were fast and determined as if the fight was to death. You held your breath whenever he would get a punch or a strike since he was wearing no helmet. However, he seemed to be doing much better now.

Eventually, The Lannister was laying down and not standing up for quite a long time now as Ser Gwayne spat some blood out and looked up again – his face covered in blood and a few bruises but other than that, he was fine.

Your father stood up, carefully, before walking up to you to see with his own eyes. He hesitated and froze instead of announcing the winner and the whole audience was now looking at him.

“You shall announce my champion the winner,” you reminded him and he swallowed thickly.

“I… I announce Ser Gwayne Hightower the winner of this tournament. Congratulations!” He exclaimed and turned around this very instant to sit back down on his chair.

“You fought bravely, Ser Tyland,” Ser Gwayne helped his opponent to stand up as everyone froze at his words. “Oh, Lord Jason, do forgive me,” he nodded at him with a smirk before leaving the field.

Your heart picked up its pace and you couldn’t help a big grin. You glanced at The Lannister in the audience and he gave you a very unpleasant look this time. You couldn’t blame him, really. Ser Gwayne’s little mistake would make people gossip about The Lannisters cheating in the tournament. It was bringing you lots of satisfaction.

You were about to excitedly leave your parents’ side, when your father grabbed your wrist and stopped you.

“Where are you going?” He asked, harshly.

“To see my champion!” You answered him.

“Absolutely not,” your father shook his head. “You are coming with me to meet with The Lannister brothers,” he told you and both you and your mother widened your eyes at him.

“Father… Ser Gwayne has won the tournament… Fairly,” you pointed out.

“You said that the winner would have (Y/N)’ hand in marriage,” your mother reminded him.

“It was never officially announced, was it?” He barked at the both of you. “It was just a rumour.”

“Do you want to enrage The Hand of The King by disrespecting his son? Do you want to enrage The Queen herself by disrespecting her brother?” You asked him.

Your father let go of your wrist but he kept staring at you with anger and resentment in his eyes.

“Why did you want The Lannisters to win so badly?” You asked him. “To the point of letting them play it dirty and cheat?” You continued as your mother’s eyes were widening. “I have overheard your conversation on the first day while taking a stroll between the tents like you had forbidden me to,” you admitted. “Why, father?”

“My Lord Husband?” Your mother asked him, enraged by what she had just heard.

“Perhaps you have also overheard the part where I was saying that the tournament is a nice show-off,” he explained.

“I do understand why you threw the tournament. The question was not about that,” you raised an eyebrow at him and crossed your arms.

“Wealth,” was all he said after a short silence.

“And… that’s it?” You asked, disappointed.

Your father nodded and looked away.

“Wealth and splendour. An alliance between The Tyrells and The Lannisters would be a powerful one. And their treasure is big,” he added.

You opened your mouth to say something but you had no words.

“Your foolish sisters!” He continued as he raised his voice suddenly. “One married some Dornish lesser Lord and the other went up North to marry a knight in The Vale! The Ladies of House Tyrell! I should have been creating powerful alliances with you, foolish girls, but, no, all of you know better! All of you!” He yelled at you as your mother began to calm him down.

“I would never marry a man without an honour like Lord Jason Lannister,” you only said. “A cheater who plays dirty by using his brother because he knows very well that he would lose his very first combat if it was him down there,” you finished.

Without any other word, you hurried downstairs to run up to Ser Gwayne’s tent. His squire was working on removing his armour off of his body and you approached him to cup his bruised face splashed with blood.

“Ser Gwayne…” You started and then you swallowed thickly and looked down, remembering your encounter with him from the previous evening and the things you had been thinking of at night.

“Lady Tyrell,” he nodded at you with a smile.

“Are you alright, Ser? What has gotten into you to take the helmet off?” You asked as you dared to look up again, right into his blue eyes.

“It was limiting my view,” he answered. “I am alright, my Lady, no need to worry about me.”

“Are you always that irresponsible, Ser?” You asked yet another question. After all, it was important to know if he was supposed to be your Lord Husband.

“Never, my Lady. But it was rather an important combat, was it not?” He raised an eyebrow at you and you smiled widely at him.

You let go of his face as you took a few steps back to let his squire continue his work with the armour.

“I shall leave you now,” you nodded. “Thank you.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Lady Tyrell,” Ser Gwayne bowed his head slightly as he watched you walking out of his tent.

There was a feast again on that evening but instead of being with the guests, your father was locked in the library with Ser Gwayne, discussing the unofficial prize of the tournament – your hand in marriage.

You were pacing around the corridor, all dolled up for the party in a pastel pink dress but with no interest to walk down and participate in the celebrations. You were afraid that your father would be rude to Ser Gwayne or scare him off, so you wanted to be around just in case you needed to put out some fire.

At first, you had chosen Ser Gwayne Hightower to be your champion simply to annoy your father and to avoid showing any favours to Lord Jason Lannister. But as the time progressed – especially after last night… – you just wanted to become Ser Gwayne’s wife. You would still live in The Reach and have your mother quite close but at the same time you’d be away from your father and his constant remarks of remaining unmarried despite your age.

Oldtown was an important place on the map of Westeros and you would be The Queen’s sister-in-law. Your father would be foolish to choose Lannister's gold over that honour.

The doors opened finally and you saw your father who was visibly surprised at the sight of you nervously pacing outside the library.

“Are you curious or nosy, dear daughter?” He asked you with his eyebrow raised.

“Perhaps both,” you answered.

“Either way,” your father shrugged, taking a step aside and revealing Ser Gwayne standing behind him, “that is not a problem of mine to deal with anymore,” he finished. “Disciplining her might be a challenge,” he chuckled at Ser Gwayne.

“With all respect, Lord Tyrell, I am not Lady (Y/N)’s father to discipline her,” Ser Gwayne nodded at him and approached you to hold your hands in his as he looked at your face. “We are going to get married, my Lady,” he announced to you and you smiled widely at him, feeling a huge wave of relief washing all over you. Relief, happiness and… excitement.

“When?!” Was all you asked before looking at your father’s face. He seemed to watch you carefully but wasn’t as displeased as before, right after the tournament.

“Ser Gwayne is running Oldtown in the name of his father so he must return there immediately tomorrow morning,” your father answered. “We will escort you to him for the wedding once all the preparations are finished. It shouldn’t take more than a few weeks.”

“A few weeks?!” You whined. “How am I supposed to wait for so long?”

Ser Gwayne chuckled at that and so did your father as you felt your cheeks heating up.

“You have been waiting for so long to get married, my dear, you can surely hold off a few weeks more,” your father pointed out.

But he didn’t understand. Now, when you actually wanted to become a wife and found a man worthy enough to be called your Lord Husband, you didn’t want to wait a day longer. However, being whiny about it would only make you look childish and desperate.

“I shall wait then,” you sighed and looked down in defeat.

“And I shall prepare The Hightower for your arrival, my Lady,” Ser Gwayne nodded at you. “What is your favourite colour, may I ask, my Lady, just so I know how to tell my people to decorate your new chambers?”

“It’s green, Ser Gwayne,” you answered with a soft smile. “Green and yellow like the colours of my house.”

“Something tells me we are going to be an excellent match,” Ser Gwayne smirked at your answer with a wink.

MASTERLIST

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [10]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 4.5k

Trigger Warnings: graphic violence/torture, gore, implied mutilation

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 9 | Fic Masterlist | Part 11

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Wooyoung called out, entering the general's study with Jongho following closely behind, having been summoned to the estate.

Seonghwa looked up from his desk, "Ah yes, I heard you turned down the bonus incentive we offered. Why is that? Is there something else that you wish to have?"

Having encountered few who would refuse extra money, your husband found it hard to comprehend the private investigator's decision. Most people around him were usually drawn by the allure of his wealth or other associated benefits, which left him curious about Wooyoung's motives for declining the bonus. Surely, there was something specific he desired.

The younger man beamed, "My lord, I wasn't working so willingly for you because I wanted something more from you. Honestly, nothing makes me happier than being recognised by you! I just... okay, maybe there is one thing I really want."

Raising his brow, the general was not surprised by the sudden admission, "Go on, name it then."

With a cheeky grin, the investigator replied, "It's that you allow me to help you with whatever problems you have now!"

Your husband rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "What do you mean? I have no problems now; the worst is over."

"Really? Is that why you're here sulking alone instead of being with Lady Park? You clearly want to be near her, and yet, here you are, staying away from her because you haven't a clue how to face her after the traumatising ordeal you put her through yesterday."

That finally piqued Seonghwa's attention, prompting him to sit up straighter, though he attempted to maintain a nonchalant demeanour, "H-how did you figure that out?"

Without waiting for Wooyoung's response, he shook his head, "No, wait, actually, I don't want to know that. Just tell me... what should I do? I realise I haven't considered well enough what she went through, but I... I've never had to care for someone like this before, and I'm not really sure how to..."

The investigator offered an understanding smile, "My lord, the key to any relationship is communication. You need to talk to Lady Park. Ask her how she's feeling, and tell her you're sorry for what she went through. Avoiding each other won't solve anything; it will only create more distance between you two. You're her pillar of support now, and she needs to feel that you're there for her. You both deserve happiness, but it starts with open and honest communication."

Absorbing the advice, the general nodded thoughtfully, "You're right, Wooyoung. I appreciate your straightforwardness. I'll go talk to her and make things right."

Without hesitating, he sprang from his chair and made his way out of the study. The assistant and his friend couldn't contain their laughter, covering their mouths with their hands, but quickly composed themselves when Seonghwa glanced back at them, "Oh, and please, accept the bonus. You deserve it, especially after this."

Before Wooyoung could object, he had already exited the room and was rushing down the path toward the House of Lotus, his heart pounding at the thought of seeing his wife again.

He remembered how quiet you had been during the entire journey back home the day before, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. While you weren't overtly distant or cold to him, you seemed lost in thought throughout dinner. You excused yourself early, retiring to your quarters. The atmosphere carried an unspoken tension, making him hesitant to say anything for fear of your potential reaction.

Reflecting on it, he realised he should have assured you that things would be better from that point forward. Rather than maintaining a facade of normalcy, he regretted not breaking the silence and being there for you in that moment of unease.

His steps hesitated, and his breath deepened as you finally appeared in his line of sight, seated alone in the pavilion outside your room. Your lady etiquette books lay open beside you, but the faraway look in your eyes remained glued to the horizon beyond the lotus pond. For a moment, he stood there, appreciating your beauty, suddenly feeling thankful you looked nothing like your father.

However, as soon as you turned your head slightly and noticed him standing by the entrance, he blinked rapidly, feeling flustered. Gathering his courage, he took a deep breath and approached you.

Just go talk to her, you fool.

Seeing him approach, you closed the books and made room for him to sit in the small pavilion. He offered a warm smile, "Hey, I hope I'm not bothering you or anything."

Shaking your head, you returned a small smile, "No, not at all. I tried to study, but I just... I couldn't."

As he settled down beside you, reaching for your hand, you didn't flinch or pull away. He released a relieved breath and moved closer, "It's alright, you don't have to force yourself. I know you're probably upset with me. I... I'm sorry, my dear."

Lifting your head to meet his eyes, you furrowed your brows, "What? Why would I be upset with you?"

He winced, wondering if you were intentionally testing him to see if he knew what he did wrong. But then again, he knew you would never do anything like that. Sighing, he admitted, "Look, I know I should've thought things through better yesterday. I was so focused on wanting to punish your family for what they did, I forgot about how horrible it must have been for you to go back there and sit through all of that."

"I acknowledge it was a mistake. My intention was to give you a chance to confront your family by taking you to your old room. I didn't think it would affect you so badly. I realise now that it was a misguided decision, and I regret taking you back to that place. I'm a goddamned idiot."

His admission tugged at your heart, and you responded by placing a comforting hand over his.

"Seonghwa, you're not an idiot. I'm not upset with you," You assured him, "I've been quiet since the visit because I'm still processing the fact that my own father killed my mother. All this time, I believed she died from sickness. Now, I can't help but wonder how different my life would have been if only she were still alive. He took her away from me just like that, and for what? All for his own selfish reasons..."

"I just... I feel so—" Tears welled up in your eyes, and your voice broke, "I-I'm sorry..." You pulled your hands away from him, attempting to wipe your eyes, but he gently grasped your shoulders and turned you to face him.

"No, you need to stop apologising. You have every right to be sad, and I'm here to tell you that you never have to endure any more of the pain you're going through alone. I'm here for you, okay? From now on, I want you to lean on me whenever things get too unbearable. Can you do that?"

Feeling the genuine warmth in Seonghwa's tone and seeing the unmistakable care in his eyes, you finally broke down. The weight of the revelations, the pain of your father's actions, and the years of emotional torment spilt over, and you couldn't hold back your tears any longer. He pulled you close, cradling you in his arms as you sobbed against his shoulder.

Whispering comforting words into your ear, he pressed gentle kisses onto the top of your head. His touch was a soothing balm, providing the comfort and support you desperately needed in that moment. As you let out your emotions, he held you tighter.

The sound of your heart-wrenching cries only caused an uncomfortable squeeze in his heart. The general had never experienced this kind of ache before. Throughout his life, he had always believed that no one had a tougher life than he did. But then you came along, with your fragile form, managing to shake his entire world and alter his perspectives on life. All of a sudden, the notion of having someone to protect and care for didn't seem so repulsive, especially when it was you.

You slowly pulled back, staring up at him through your wet lashes, and offered a grateful smile, "Seonghwa, I want to thank you for doing all this for me. I never imagined someone caring enough to go through all that trouble. I promise, in return, I'll try my hardest to be a worthy wife for you."

He wiped away your tears tenderly and gazed into your eyes, "You don't need to prove anything, my love. You're already perfect, just as you are."

Your heart raced, and your eyes widened as you stuttered, "W-wait, what... what did you just call me?"

He stilled, realising the words that had slipped from his mouth before he softened. Leaning close, he pressed his forehead against yours, "My love."

Seonghwa's presence became almost intoxicating. Feeling him so close, as if with a mind of its own, your eyes slowly fluttered closed. He took that as permission to lean in further, and after what felt like an eternity, his lips touched yours in a soft and tentative kiss. When you didn't push him away, he bravely angled his head before pressing his lips firmly against yours.

Finally, our first kiss.

Pulling away after a while to catch your breath, you bit your lip shyly, "I-I'm sorry if I wasn't—"

He shook his head, "Don't worry, it's my first time kissing someone too," He admitted, struggling to take his eyes off your swollen lips. A soft smile played on his lips as he caressed your cheek with his thumb, "Can I..." He asked with half-lidded eyes, and you nodded breathlessly.

Without wasting another moment, he captured your lips in another loving kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of each other's presence. His touch was gentle yet filled with a depth of emotion. As the kiss deepened, you felt a rush of emotions, a mix of vulnerability and passion.

Feeling the need for air, he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. Your eyes met, and you could see the affection and sincerity in his gaze, "You're perfect." He whispered, his voice filled with tenderness, realising that kissing you might just be his new favourite thing to do from now onwards. The moment lingered, the air charged with newfound emotions. It was a beginning, a sweet promise of the love that had blossomed between you.

"Your Majesty, please—"

The King slammed his fists against the handle of his throne, causing the minister to gasp and lower his head. He shook like a leaf, awaiting his impending doom as the ruler declared, "I don't want to hear another word from you, Jang. You're a bloody disappointment. Actually, you're worse than that, you monster."

Kneeling beside your father were your stepmother and stepsisters, equally trembling. Pathetic tears rolled down their cheeks as they attempted to put on a pity show, hoping to move His Majesty's heart. However, their efforts did little to appease his rage. He scoffed in disbelief at their audacity to cry, considering all the despicable things they had done to you and your mother.

This marked the first time the four women had set foot in the palace, and little did they anticipate it would be under such circumstances. The visit might also be their only time here, as the imminent judgement from the King would decide their fate.

Seonghwa stood in the corner, arms crossed over his chest, an amused expression on his face. He left home that morning after a lingering kiss on your lips, feeling rejuvenated and determined. Choosing not to burden you with the details of today's assembly, he shielded you from further thoughts about your family.

Don't worry, my love. I'll make sure they suffer a punishment worse than death.

"I can't stand to look at you imbeciles for another moment longer. Let's get this over with already. Royal Secretary Choi, would you be so kind as to enlighten us with all of Minister Jang's crimes and his punishments?" said the King.

Stepping forward from his corner next to the throne, San bowed, "As you wish, Your Majesty," Tugging open the scroll in his hands, he began reading out loud, "Minister Jang has committed a total of five crimes. First, he committed adultery voluntarily, and for that, he will be whipped with eighty lashes. Second, he committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, he will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."

Dread filled the minister as he gulped, anxiously listening to the secretary move on to the next section, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of his own daughter, an innocent citizen, he will be flogged thirty times. Next, for violating the code of ethics as a minister, which is to be a law-abiding citizen, he will be stripped of his title and flogged another twenty times."

As your father's hands trembled, he attempted to hold himself up by pressing his sweaty palms against the floor, breathing heavily as he awaited the final and most severe punishment. San continued, "And finally, for the murder of his first wife, an innocent citizen, he will be sentenced to permanent exile."

That's... it?

Feeling a sliver of hope, the old man let out a small sigh of relief. At least it wasn't death by beheading or arsenic poisoning as he had feared. Banishment seemed acceptable; he supposed he could still live a quiet life somewhere away from here. Bowing deeply, he cried, "Thank you, Your Majesty! Your grace is immeasurable!"

All the ministers and officials present quickly stole glances at Seonghwa, wondering if he would throw a fit and object to the punishment that was yet to be the heaviest one. However, they failed to discern his feelings, as there was only an unreadable smirk on his handsome face.

Lady Jang and her daughters trembled as they awaited their turn. With a nod from the King, the secretary continued, "Moving on, Lady Jang has committed a total of four crimes. First, she voluntarily committed adultery, and for that, she will be whipped eighty lashes. Second, she committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, she will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."

She nodded to herself, seemingly already accepting her fate, as she listened, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, she will be flogged thirty times. And finally, for being an accomplice to the murder of the first Lady Jang, she will be sentenced to penal servitude for life."

Her eyes shot up immediately, finding it hard to accept that she would be separated from her husband. She had believed she, too, would be exiled along with him. But she quickly lowered her gaze as soon as she saw the glare the King had directed at her, as if daring her to complain about it.

Oh god, my life is over...

Noticing the King's patience wearing thin, San quickly concluded with the final sentencing, "Lastly, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, the three young misses of the Jang family will be flogged thirty times each and sentenced to penal servitude for a total of thirty years."

All three of the sisters' jaws fell slack at their punishment. After living luxurious lives like spoiled brats for so long, they were now expected to be servants, performing hard labour for three decades. All their dreams of getting married and leading comfortable lives were shattered. The prospect of finding suitors after serving their sentences seemed bleak. Their lives were forever ruined, and things would never be the same.

"Now that that's settled, remove these individuals from my sight, and see to it that they receive their physical punishments by today. I don't want their presence contaminating my palace walls any longer than necessary. Moving on to the next agenda, let us discuss who will stand in as the interim Minister of Military Affairs until we elect a new one." The ruler grumbled, waving his hands dismissively.

Seonghwa grinned smugly, relishing the way your father's face fell as he absorbed His Majesty's words. The King fully intended to drive the point home, reminding him that, no matter how much he believed he contributed to the nation, he, too, was just as disposable. Consider it emotional torment for further punishment, if you will.

As the members of the Jang family were forcefully pulled to their feet and guided toward the palace torture chamber where all punishments for criminals were administered, the general bowed deeply, "Your Majesty, forgive this humble subject for not feeling too well. Would it be possible for me to excuse myself from the remainder of today's assembly?"

With a knowing glint in his eyes, the King nodded, "Of course, my boy. Nothing matters more than your well-being. I'll have Royal Secretary Choi send you the minutes of today's meeting later on."

All eyes were fixed on your husband as he confidently exited the hall, wearing an excessively pleased expression, looking a little too content to be feeling unwell as he had claimed. It became evident to everyone that he was plotting something, a scheme that even His Majesty was privy to and had tacitly approved.

"P-please, have mercy!"

Screams reverberated within the dim and eerie confines of the torture chamber, a place the general once frequented during his duties of interrogating spies, war criminals, and suspicious individuals to maintain peace within the nation.

The familiar sounds of your family's agonising cries filled his ears, and he couldn't suppress the chuckle that escaped his lips as he entered, "Ah yes, music to my ears."

Upon his arrival, all the royal guards present swiftly bowed deeply and greeted Seonghwa with respect, "Good day, General Park!" They dared not continue until he gave them a nod, "Go on, don't let me stop you. I'm only here to enjoy the show."

"Yes, sir!" They chanted in unison. To many young soldiers and palace guards, he was akin to a god, an embodiment of success they aspired to achieve one day. Therefore, his mere presence motivated them to perform their duties with increased ruthlessness and precision.

Taking a seat in the centre of the room, your husband bit his lip with a smug expression, locking eyes with your father whose gaze reflected anguish. The elderly man lay face down on a wooden table, enduring lash after lash on his already bloody and battered back. His painful ordeal was far from over.

Whimpering, your father pleaded, "S-Seonghwa, I'm s-still your father-in-law! Please, at least show a little mercy to your wife's father!" Beside him, his wife nodded pathetically, sharing the same painful fate. Meanwhile, the three daughters stood frozen in a corner, wrists cuffed, awaiting their turn to face their beatings.

A devilish laughter escaped the general as he shot a menacing glare at the former minister, "Oh, I'm sorry, was that supposed to make things any better? I would show you mercy if only you had shown my wife any. You shouldn't have said anything, you fool," Turning to the guard in charge of whipping your father, your husband ordered, "Not hard enough, soldier. I want to see his skin tear."

"Yes, sir!" Striking with increased force, the lashes landed on the old man's back, inflicting wounds that would take months to heal. The continuous shrieks of pain only served to widen the smile on Seonghwa's face, "And to think you were thanking His Majesty for his grace; you've underestimated the severity of being whipped, haven't you? Did you really think you were going to walk out of here with a small bruise? Dream on."

"Oh, I can't wait for all of you to experience the wonders of flogging! It will be delightful, a punishment perfectly suited for your kind." The general sang, eyeing the three girls slyly.

They cowered under his intense gaze, suddenly regretting every action they took on the day of your visit. Perhaps if they hadn't attempted any of those, they might have gotten away with a lighter sentence. But there was no point dwelling on such thoughts now.

"Father! Mother!" The girls cried, witnessing their parents only now completing the first half of their punishment. Before they could continue their wailing, guards approached them, saying, "Quiet down! Worry about yourselves instead; it's your turn."

The former minister and his wife looked practically lifeless by the time the guards were finished with their hundred lashes each. The skin on their backs was completely torn open, blood gushing out relentlessly. They were nearly unconscious by the time the guards moved them to separate poles, where they would be beaten with a heavy stick all over their bodies.

Letting out a small yawn, Seonghwa signalled for them to prepare for the flogging. This would be entertaining to witness; most criminals barely survived this punishment by the time it concluded. He would relish the idea of them being left in critical conditions.

"Enjoy yourselves! Thirty times each for what you've all done to my wife – just the perfect amount to leave you halfway to hell. Don't worry; you'll wish you were dead by the end of this. But rest assured, we will keep you alive," Your husband exclaimed with a clap of his hands, "Now, I want you to think of all the things you've done to my wife as you endure this. Can we all do that?"

In the ensuing silence, the guards approached each family member, forcefully striking them with the heavy sticks in their hands. With just one hit, all of them began howling in pain, "Answer the general! Can you all do as you are told?!"

"Y-yes! Yes!" All five of them sobbed miserably, and the general beamed, "Fantastic! Now, let the official flogging begin! The first one does not count, alright? Consider it warm up!"

The insanity in his eyes was genuinely terrifying, and your family was once again reminded of his reputation. Suddenly, it all made sense. This was how it felt to be a victim of his cruelty. They never should have sent you to him; that was their biggest mistake, and nothing they do or say could ever change that now.

"Yes, sir!"

And so it began, the screams that now filled the room were even more piercing than the ones during the first round of whipping.

Approaching each family member one by one, Seonghwa smirked, "Remember all the times you starved her?" Jinjoo nodded in between shrieks, "Good. And you, recall all the times you insulted her and made her feel small?" Jinhee repeated her sister's actions, nodding furiously, "Very good. And you, remember all the times you did something wrong and blamed it on her so that she would take your punishments for you?"

Jinah cried, tears and snot running down her sweaty face, "I'm sorry!" He shook his head, "Will saying a useless sorry change anything? Nope. Hit her harder, soldier," With a grin of approval, he moved on to your stepmother, "And you, recall all the times you kept her locked up in that prison cell you call her room?" Not wanting to suffer like her eldest, she nodded aggressively, "Good."

Finally stopping in front of your father, he crossed his arms over his chest, "And you, remember all the times you laid your hands on her? Your own daughter?" The former minister nodded quickly but was not spared, "Good, hit him even harder so he never forgets how it feels."

"Twenty-nine, thirty." The beatings stopped for the four women, and they collapsed one by one onto the floor like rag dolls. Blood trickled from their noses and the corners of their lips, their bodies covered in countless bruises and open wounds, soaking their clothes red. And that is only what can be seen on the outside; who knew what fatal internal injuries they could be suffering from.

With his hands propped on his hips, Seonghwa took in the sight with satisfaction, "Very well, some of these scars should last you for life. Now, you look as bad as the way you'd left my wife. Actually, worse. But that's good. I'm very happy with the outcome. Guards, take them away and make sure to send them to places where they're known to treat their servants poorly."

The girls sobbed upon hearing that, "General, please, have mercy! We've already suffered enough!" Your husband scoffed, "Mercy? Have you not been paying attention this entire time? I'm not known for that. Get them out of my sight."

As the guards dragged the wailing women out, they cried for their husband and father. The former minister yelled, still taking his twenty additional beatings as he watched his wife and daughters go, "W-will you not at least let me say my final goodbyes to them?"

"Minister, please don't make me laugh. Did you also allow my wife and her poor mother a final goodbye?" The old man had nothing to say at that, grunts of pain escaping his lips as he tried to endure the remainder of his punishment despite feeling like all of his insides had been beaten to mush at this point. He didn't have to look down to know that he was soaked in blood; he could feel the sting on his wounds whenever the slightest bit of wind blew past.

Just a bit more, and I'm free.

« Preview of Part 11 »

"Forty-nine, fifty." Your father sighed in relief when the punishment finally ceased. Collapsing to the ground upon being untied, he stared blankly ahead, feeling pain throughout his entire body. Slowly but surely, he slipped into unconsciousness due to the loss of blood.

Unfortunately, his respite was short-lived. A bucket of dirty water was abruptly dumped over him, causing him to scream in agony as the injuries on his body stung intensely, bringing tears to his eyes.

"Did you think it was over?" His blood ran cold as he noticed he was now tied to a chair, unable to move. With most of the guards gone, only him and Seonghwa remained.

"What do you think you're doing, general? I've completed all my physical punishments; you're supposed to banish me now!" The old man croaked, his eyes widening in fear as he noticed the dagger in your husband's hand.

The general burst into laughter, "Oh, minister, you can be quite slow at times. Did you genuinely believe that His Majesty's decision not to sentence you to death was an act of kindness? Who do you think requested your exile?"

"Y-you—"

Seonghwa smirked, "Indeed, it was me. Killing you would have been too merciful. No, I want you to endure a life so filled with pain that you wish for death every single day. Now, after seeing how skilled you were at begging all day, I believe you'd make a very talented beggar. Do you know what would make you a successful beggar?"

Tears streaming down his face, your father shook his head hopelessly as your husband traced the blade against his skin before whispering, "One without limbs."

That was the most violence I have ever written HAHA I had to channel my inner Joker for Seonghwa's character. Anyway, I hope that was satisfying enough!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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[kadwrites]

an introduction | T.S

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summary ; you meet your husband to be for the first time.

warnings ; angst, dysfunctional family ig? , arranged marriage trope. bad writing?

a/n ; is it good? is it bad? is it too long? who knows. thank you for the support <3 please let me know what you think!

_

you hadn't left your room for the past three days. celest would be there , feeding you, holding you as you cried.

tonight though, you couldn't sleep because the sounds of your siblings yelling is keeping you away from the slumber you very much needed.

"you did what?"

oliver's brows furrow, his very pregnant wife , renee , sits beside him, her eyes open wide and a hand on her belly.

his mother tries to act like she didn't feel the guilt clawing at her heart , she sips her tea, "it's about time she got a husband."

"mum , what were you thinking? what has gotten into you?" his voice isn't loud, it isn't his usual roar, which is what concerned his wife. she puts a hand on his shoulder "you're forcing 'er to marry thomas shelby? are you fucking insane? have you lost your bloody mind?"

"im not forcing her to do anything, she agreed."

"after ya slapped 'er."

celest lets out a chocked sob at the mention of that

his mother's eyes are stern when they look up at him, resenting the fact that he brought it up

"she's a wild girl, she raised her voice at me"

"what did you expect 'er to do?" he got up, and his wife desperately tries to calm him down "lay on 'er back and open 'er legs?"

"to obey her mother."

"the mother that treated 'er own daughter like a piece of meat?" his jaw clenched, his hands shake "how could you do that? you didn't even tell us anything."

abraham is pacing around. his girlfriend ,anna stands in the doorway, watching this unfold. what else was she supposed to do?, its not like she can do anything. celest is sitting on a chair, her face buried in her hands as she cries. their father wasn't at home, he was out visiting his brother.

he's been avoiding this very incident like the plaque.

"when did this even 'appen?" abraham walks and stands next to oliver, both of them staring at their mother, his voice trembles as he tries to hold back whatever he had to say.

"why does it matter?" their mother slams the teacup on the table "it's already happened. what good is it going to do if we keep talking about it?"

"how long 'ave you been plottin' at this?" oliver's voice gets louder, his wife tries to get up but cant, abraham grabs his shoulder instead. "are you that desperate for money?"

"i did it-"

"for 'er ? securing 'er a future, yeah? is that what you tell yourself?" celest finally speaks, her face glistening with tears as she stands up

celest was always her mother's daughter. being the eldest, she always aimed to please her but when this happened, she couldn't even stand to look at her mother. she knew their mother was looking for a suitor ,she tried to reason with her, telling her how her younger sister would never agree, that she'll just yell and maybe even try to run away. celest never knew that the suitor her mother had in mind was thomas shelby, she never knew that he'd already agreed to all of this.

their mother's eyes move to celest, renee and anna share a look , and anna stands with her mouth covered. "this is not going to end well." ,they both think.

"what?"

"i said is that what you think you're doing? that you're doing whats best for 'er?" celest repeats "when you and i and everyone in this room knows who thomas shelby is, we know what he does, we know how he lives"

"he will take care of her." she raises her voice as well

"mother...." abraham warns, with his eyes closed. he knows the words she will say next would just anger everyone further

"i dont want her to end up like you! with a man that has you living in a piss poor excuse of a house, running after his spawn." her mother spits those words out like venom.

"i love 'im, i chose 'im, and i never ever regretted that decision, i never once complained,i never doubted his love or loyalty" celest walks closer "i will live a good life with a man who is good to me, an honest man. would she say the same about the husband you chose for 'er?"

"she will love him! she will grow to love him" she yells those words, as if she desperately wants them to be true.

celest lets out a chuckle , looking at her mother as if she was insane "do you not hear yourself? do you not hear how you sound?" then she moves even closer,"you're ruining 'er life!" celest cried, her screams sound through the whole house, abraham is now holding her back, as she squirms and thrashes "is this what you fucking want ? for your own child to live a miserable life?"

oliver left the living room at some point and he was inside your room now, somehow.

he crouched at the side of the bed, where you're laying on your stomach, cheek against the pillow and covers tucked up to your neck.

"i..." he tries to speak, he lets out a breath "i didn't know" he felt guilty for some reason, as if he could've stopped this.

"i know"

"you don't 'ave to say yes" he puts a hand on your head smoothing down your hair. oliver was never the one for affection, always awkward with it. "you don't. you can say no"

"i cant" you whisper back to him, your eyes look at him and they are once again filled with tears, your lips quiver

"yes you can"

"no i can't" you let out a sob "and you know that."

he just looks back at you, keeps on smoothing down your hair

"its not your responsibility to save them."

"it is now"

and he knew he couldn't change your mind, "she says he's comin' by tomorrow ,to see you."

silence ensues. you two just stare at each-other not knowing what to say

for the first time in his life, oliver the man with the biggest mouth, the loudest voice, the one who always fought you over that one spot on the table, doesn't know what to say. he has nothing to say.

he slowly gets up, and leaves the room, closing the door behind him gently.

and when that dreaded morning comes, you find yourself on your vanity chair, looking at your reflection in the mirror, your face still almost emotionless

celest stands behind you, brushing your hair,she's crying silently, and you just stare at the mirror

you knew that those steps belonged to your mother, you'd memorized how they sounded when you were a child , when you pretended to be asleep so she wouldn't know you'd stayed awake past your bedtime. she walks and stands next to celest, you don't look at her, you just stare at yourself.

celest puts the brush on the table and she walks away, she walks to the window, trying to calm down. your mother picks up the brush.

"i know you think im cruel, and that i'm selfish. but i did it for your sake." she speaks

this is the first time you'd even seen her since it all happened

your eyes dart up to her, she doesn't look at you, she just looks down at your hair as she brushes it.

"when your father got sick, i never thought we'd lose the farm too, we lost the very thing that gave us most of our money." she pauses for a second "i know this isnt how you wanted to get married, it was not an easy decision for me either"

"i don't love 'im" your voice is soft, its not angry

"love isn't everything, you don't need it to be content" she continues "i didn't love your father when i married him , but love follows"

"he is nothing like my dad"

your mother stops again "he's a hardworking man, he was in the war , wasn't he? just like yer father."

"my father was a farmer," she muttered "that's what you loved about 'im, what you've come to love. that he is a good man but the man you're marrying me off to isn't"

you sound like celest.

your words cut deeper than you thought they would, your mothers eyes close, she sighs "you're my youngest child and i want you to live a good life when me and your father are no longer here .a safe life. i dont want you to need a roof over your head or worry about money or food"

you don't want to argue , so you don't. you just let her brush your hair and neatly style it. she brings a box and opens it, inside it a golden necklace with a ruby as a pendant, she puts it on you, she smiles at your reflection

"i wore it when i married your father", maybe it will bless your marriage too, your mother thinks to herself.

you don't say anything, you just do what you're told. you were too tired to fight this anyways. you just wanted this day to pass

and then you hear it, your brother's voice as he greets him, despite his anger your oliver sounds polite. their voices are muffled but you hear them.

you mother walks you down the stairs and when you descend you see him, on the green sofa , talking to your father and your brothers and as if he could sense your presence his eyes dart up the stairs and he sees you.

you feel as if the whole house ran out of air, and as if your lung collapsed. you look back at him nonetheless as you walk down the stairs.

it feels as if their voices are distant as your family greets him, very welcoming and warm they sound but you can't process a word. you just look at him. you think you mumbled a greeting too, you're not sure.

he got up when you entered the living room, he looks you up and down but only for an instant and then his eyes go back to yours. you cannot see any emotion on his face.

you sister stands at your side, renee on the other, they sit with you between them on the couch facing him, the rest of your family scattered around the room but you didn't look at them, too busy looking at the man you'll marry. it's almost as if you can visibly see the blood on his hands.

but when he speaks , you snap back into reality out of your trance

"its a pleasure to finally meet you."

his voice is deep, calm and collected. for some reason it sends a chill down your spine

"the pleasure is mine" you say back, as politely as you could.

slowly, person by person, your family leaves the room

you glance at the window, your brothers and father are outside smoking, pretending to not watch. celest, renee and anna are under the foyer.

your mother and mrs gray are in the kitchen, having tea, when did she come in here?, you didn't even notice her.

you lean back against the sofa, you stare at him just like he stares at you

"mind if i smoke?" he already has his cigarette between his lips , he pulls out his lighter

"no" you say curtly , you sit on the sofa in the most expensive dress you own, your newest heels,

he offers you a cigarette, you eye it. you hadn't smoked since your parents caught you smoking on the roof but they've disappointed you, so what if you disappoint them one more time

you pull a cigarette out, he passes you the light and you light it, then putting it out

he leans back as well, crossing his legs

"are you good with children? can you care for them?"

you nod, your cigarette hangs between your fingers"i 'ave one nephew and 4 nieces, one on the way too"

"i 'ave a boy"

his eyes give nothing away no matter how long you stared at him , looking for a crack in the mask

"what's his name?" you ask softly

"charles"

"how old is he?"

"four, he's turning five soon"

"is that why you're looking for a wife? to look after your son?"

"thats a part of it, yes" he exhales the smoke, he throws an arm around the back of the sofa

"what's the other part?"

"i need a wife and i want someone i can trust around my boy when im not around"

you nod , your eyes look away for the first time.

"do you feel like you can do that?"

you turn back to look at him

"i believe so , yes"

he nods, "are you being forced into this?" he's blunt. it doesn't take a genius to know that you're not happy, that you're reluctant.

"no, i'm not"

"i don't want to marry you if you're unwilling"

"i said i'm not ,didn't i?" you tried to hold back your tongue, but you couldn't

his brow raises at this ,"you don't exactly look like you're content with your decision"

"is this an interrogation?" you ask, stubbing the cigarette on the ashtray that sits on the table. partly because the taste of it made you nauseous, having not had one in years. the other part annoyed and defensive

"i believe its called an introduction" a his face is still stoic, but his voice is betraying him, it's sounds as though he's amused.

you look up, you hate to admit it but you can't deny it. he looks handsome, in his expensive suit, his glasses, his cheek bones. celest was right, at least he is easy on the eyes

"an introduction, aye?"

"hmm"

you just look at eachother, you blink a couple of times, then lean back again.

"its my decision, mr shelby." you try to compose yourself, "it wasn't forced on me,"

he nods again,

"do you 'ave any conditions?"

"i do..." you lick your lips nervously "my father, he's sick"

"i will take care of his medical expenses" he nods before you could finish that sentence

"it would be nice if i could finish my own fucking sentences"

he lets out a dry chuckle, and you take it as a sign to continue

"he's never been properly checked , we don't know what exactly is wrong with 'im" you sigh "my only condition is that 'im and my mother would be looked after, financially and medically."

"they will be"

"i want it in writing" you hesitate but then say it anyways , you don't know if you can trust him, you don't care if you offend him.

he looks at you, his eye travel between yours "alright"

you let out a breath you didn't know you've been holding

-

@tardisloverz , @optimisticsandwichgladiator

[omgsuperstarg]

Could you do fic for Toto Wolff with wife reader? The team had a photoshoot based on 2024 Team Photoshoot and there is one woman that kept helping him by fixing his clothes, hair, always touching him. And she saw what happened, but she decided to repaint silent, not wanting to cause a scene. Everyone could see how close she was to snap especially the drivers. Eventually she snapped because she saw how Toto was feeling uncomfortable. You decide how it ended. Tag me later!! hanks!! :))

Ooh a Lil jealousy, as a Wolff wife I must do my Duty. i hope you like the One Shot @pear-1206

Touch Ups- Torger 'Toto' Wolff x Jealous Wife! Reader

As the wife of a very respected and influential motorsport individual, your life has been a whirlwind. Most days out of the year or the entire year to be frank, Toto and you are on opposite sides of the world only communicating via devices and getting only a fortnight together when the season break occurs or whenever time and the job allow.

This year was going to be a rollercoaster of emotions. Lewis was departing the team at the end of the year and moving to Ferrari and George was being prepped to be the new team leader while Toto was hunting for a driver to fill an iconic but now vacant seat with fresh talent. All these aspects were to be considered, but today was a necessary evil for all teams involved in F1, promotional photoshoots. Every year the teams doll up their drivers and in some cases leaders to shoot pictures to hype the fanbase up for another wild ride of racing and with the Silver Arrows having the more eye-catching men of the grid, the communications department was more than willing to pander to the evergrowing female fanbase.

Some fans have dubbed the Mercedes men, the M4 which consisted of their drivers Lewis, George and Mick, led by their fearless Leader, the head of the Pack, Toto. The driver photos were already completed and it was time for the leader to have his chance to shine, Toto had asked you to accompany him for moral support and being the supportive wife, you jumped at the opportunity.

You observe the set which was a stylish Mercedes AMG car with Teal Neon light illuminating the background. Hair and Makeup stylists fluttered around him doing their jobs to make him as camera-ready as possible but you did notice there was one who was a bit too close. You were not a jealous person but you couldn't help but catch a feeling you ignored it for the time being figuring that you were just being paranoid. So the cameras began clicking as Toto got into his model mode, trying to look as cool as possible. Even though this was clearly not his forte, from what you observed he was doing well and the pictures appeared amazing. You then look up to see him put on his shades in a very manly manner and you can't help but blush.

The photographers take a pause so they can change lenses and the makeup staff can do more necessary touch-ups but there was a particular woman who was about the same age as you if not a bit younger who was getting a bit too close to your husband. Yes, these individuals must assist in making him 'LOOK GOOD" but this one's hands were lingering on him a bit longer than usual and touches that were nearing close for comfort.

Toto was a man who wouldn't say his disgust or discomfort out loud (depending on the situation)but more in his body language and it clearly showed that he didn't want this woman near him. Still, he couldn't fault her for doing her occupation although she took advantage of her position. After the touch-up was done, the photos continued and you couldn't help but get even more mad.

After the next change, you decided to confront the woman,

Oh, Mrs Wolff. How can i help you?", she asks almost smugly but she hides her deceit well. 'Oh, nothing. I've just been observing the way you assist Mr.Wolff," you say to her.

"Ah yes, Mr. Wolff has been such a delightful subject," she continues. "I agree, the extra touching really shows that off,'', you bite back.

"I get it, he's a very influential and distinguished individual. I also know how many women gravitate towards him, I saw your interactions with him" You bite slightly as you turn your head to face her.

"Mrs. Wolff, I assure you it's not like that," she says with a bit of fear.

"Touch him like that again, I'll have you escorted out of the venue," the response a bit dark.

She then nodded put her tools down and then approached her colleague and conversed. After which she leaves.

She definitely got the message.

After the shoot, Toto finally approached you and then he responded. "Do you like the photos?", he asked

"I do, but I didn't like the way that woman who was assisting with your makeup was touching you," I respond honestly.

"So what should I do?" he inquires.

GIF credit to Pinterest

[deakyjoe]

Arranged & Absolute

Pairing: Papa Emeritus IV/Copia x Reader (fem, afab)

Category: arranged marriage, smut

Summary: To strengthen his new position as Papa, Copia agrees to marry someone he’s never met.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected p in v sex, desk sex, you get cum on the paperwork, vaginal fingering, grinding/dry humping, kissing, groping, arranged marriage, unspecified age gap, awkward first meeting, Sister Imperator being a supportive mother (but not because Copia doesn’t know she’s his mother), dead Papas (all of them, even Nihil), guilt, self esteem issues, parental issues, loneliness, poorly translated Italian, reader vaguely described as being shorter than Copia but nothing else, let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 6.9k

A/N: I chose the gif specifically because he looks hot in it. This fic went from “huh maybe one day I could write about an arranged marriage thing with Copia but I don’t know what exactly yet since I don’t have any solid ideas” to “what the fuck have I done” in the space of less than 24 hours! Enjoy!

Consider buying me a coffee :)

Copia had thought it was a stupid idea. But Sister Imperator had insisted. So here he was. On his wedding day. Having never met his bride.

His foot tapped against the floor at a rapid pace, nerves radiating out of him, as he stood at the head of the chapel and watched the guests flood in to take their seats. He didn't fail to notice that almost everybody there was there for him, so many of them arriving in fact that they had to start sitting on the pews that were supposed to be reserved for your friends, family and kin. But he knew you'd travelled a long way, practically the only information he knew about you, so maybe no one from your home was willing to make the journey. Still, Copia found it sad.

Sister Imperator stood at his side, attempting to be supportive. "Calm down. The ceremony will go smoothly."

That wasn't what he was worried about. He knew the wedding itself would go smoothly, Sister would make sure of it, but everything else about it seemed all wrong. For starters, he'd never met his future wife. Which was bad enough by itself. But what if you hated him? From what he'd understood, you weren't too thrilled about the pairing either but your father had managed to convince you. Copia had met your father at least but he wasn't a particularly nice man.

When Imperator had initially come to Copia with the idea he'd laughed it off thinking it was a joke. An arranged marriage in the 21st century? And in the Satanic church where they encouraged freedom of all places? He thought it was nonsense. But then when she'd explained that a well thought out match would be put in place to strengthen his new title of Papa Emeritus IV... he started to realise that she was being serious.

He'd refused at first, saying that his position was enough. He was Papa now. And there was no taking that away, especially with his three predecessors dead and Nihil also in the grave. Who was there to question his authority? But Imperator pointed out his lack of legitimacy, he wasn't really an Emeritus, and how Papa Nihil had been reluctant to let him be the face of the clergy when he was still a mere Cardinal. Then he saw the cracks in his status.

So he agreed. A spouse would be found for him, to stand by his side and bring more power to his Papacy. He'd only allowed himself a brief second of panic when Imperator had mentioned in passing the need for an heir.

Copia looked at Sister, who had changed out of the usual skirt suit she wore and had chosen to adorn a dress in a nice green colour that suited her. Despite insisting that the whole thing was a formality, Copia appreciated her effort in making the day nice. "What if she doesn't like me?"

The older woman's face softened for a moment, how hadn't she realised that was what he was nervous about? He was a sensitive soul after all, constantly seeking approval. "She will adore you, C. Don't worry."

Copia looked down at his outfit, what if he wasn't dressed well enough? First impressions mattered after all. And the paints on his face itched more than usual. What if they started sweating off? But it was too late to dwell on that now. The last few people settled in the pews and silence descended over the chapel. It was time.

The large double doors at the back of the room swung open with a creak and the quartet in the corner started playing, what Copia believed to be, some sort of twist on the wedding march. He froze as his eyes landed on you, the reality of the situation dawning on him fully and sending him into a spiral. He was about to marry somebody he'd never met.

He tried not to let it show as you started walking towards him down the aisle, a train of lace following you. Nobody was walking you to him, ready to give you away, he noticed. Your father hadn't come to the wedding? Copia drank you in, the black wedding dress sweeping down the curves of your body and the matching veil covering your face. At least he had a moment to compose himself before he had to make eye contact with you.

You walked quickly, like you wanted to get the whole thing over and done with, and you were stood at the base of the steps in front of Copia before he could blink twice. He offered a gloved hand to you to help you up, which you took after a brief moment of staring at it through your veil. Copia squeezed it gently, hoping to offer some support and solidarity. He didn't know if it translated well.

And then you were in front of him, and the ceremony was beginning.

Imperator coughed quietly behind him. "C, the veil."

"Oh." He gasped and reached up the take the bottom of it in his fingertips, pausing for a second to allow you a moment to stop him if you wanted, before lifting it and pushing it back over your head.

The moment he met your eyes, Copia felt all oxygen leave his body. You were beautiful.

You sent him a nervous smile. "Hi."

Your voice was barely a whisper, so small and worried, that he barely heard you.

"Hi." He replied, sending a smile of his own and taking your hands in his.

Sister Imperator relaxed behind him, she could tell that he was smitten with you already. She’d chosen well.

The officiant ran through the ceremony with ease, the two of you repeating all the necessary parts when needed. Then suddenly it was over, the 'I do's' were said, rings were exchanged and Copia was a married man.

"You may kiss the bride." The officiant said.

Copia looked at you for confirmation that it was okay and when you gave a small nod of approval, he shuffled towards you and rested a gloved hand on your cheek. You leaned in first, which he was glad for as he felt as if his heart was about to beat up and out of his mouth, and met him halfway. Your lips pressed together for a second or two before the both of you pulled away with shy smiles.

The room cheered, a clear mix of real elation and dubious celebration. It wasn't a love match after all. But Copia didn't care, he had high hopes about the pairing now. You seemed nice enough and he found you breathtaking, he just hoped you could feel a fraction of the same about him. Which he feared you didn't, what could he possibly offer you?

The thoughts left him as Sister Imperator patted him on the back. "Well done, C."

"Thank you." He nodded at her before looking back towards you again.

Imperator looked at you as well. "And congratulations, it's lovely to finally meet you."

"Thank you, Sister. My father speaks very highly of you." You bowed your head at her before glancing at your new husband. "I think we're supposed to run out of here now. Like the wild newlyweds people expect to see."

Copia grinned, liking your attitude, and nodded his head in agreement. "That is exactly what people expect, shall we?”

You took the hand he offered to you and the two of you trotted down the few steps before speeding towards the doors of the chapel. People shouted words of praise and felicitations as you passed them which you could only smile at in return.

Once the both of you had burst out of the exit and the doors had swung shut behind you, a moment of peace was found. You turned to each other breathless, bashful looks gracing your faces.

“Hi.” You said, louder than the first time at the altar.

“Hi.” He repeated back to you. “You look beautiful in your dress, by the way.”

“Oh, thank you.” You looked down at the garment before looking back at him. “You look handsome too. I like your jacket.”

“This old thing?” Copia replied before wincing. Why did he make it seem like he’d worn an old jacket for his wedding?

But you didn’t seem to notice his slip up as you continued to smile at him. “What happens now?”

“I believe Sister Imperator has organised a banquet for us.” He pulled you closer to him as guests started to file out of the chapel and guided you in the direction of the ballroom.

“A banquet? That’s pretty fancy.” You chimed, looping your arm through his so the two of you could walk together.

“She pulled out all the stops.” Copia looked over at you, surprised at how well you seemed to be taking it all. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.” You glanced over your shoulder at the crowd of people that was emerging steadily. “Can we just walk a little faster? I don’t want to be bombarded by all those people just yet.”

“Sì, sì.” He increased his pace, making sure you were tightly secured to his side the whole time. “What made you agree to this marriage? I heard at first that you said no.”

“Ah.” You paused. “I did say no at first. Nothing personal against you, I promise.”

“We did not know each other. It’s okay.” He assured before letting you carry on.

“I didn’t want to marry a stranger. But I did want to escape my father. You know who he is, correct?”

Copia nodded. “I’ve met him.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry.” You winced. “He’s not a nice man. But holds a high position in the clergy. I’m his only child, you see. And he’s always drilled into me that I am useless because I am a daughter. What use is a daughter? I cannot be an heir and inherit anything from him.”

“That’s not true!” He gasped. “The clergy dictates that-“

You cut him off by laying a hand on his arm. “It’s not the clergy’s doing. It’s my father’s. It’s okay, I grew used to his archaic ways. Anyway he said the only good I would be was marrying me off. At first I said no because I thought he was going to marry me off to an old, ugly man who was unkind. Then he told me that you seemed sensitive when he met with you which translates to nice. And he also told me that no Emeritus has ever been ugly. I believed him. He used to keep a portrait of Papa Emeritus III before he died so I knew there was some truth in that at least.”

Copia’s stomach twisted at the reminder of Terzo’s death, a sense of guilt still ate away at him when he thought about him and his older brothers. But he didn’t let it show in front of you. “Well, I am glad that you decided to believe that I was not unkind nor ugly. However, considering you didn’t mention anything about me not being old I am going to assume that you consider me to be ancient.”

You gasped out a laugh. “I didn’t say that!”

“You didn’t need to. It was implied.” He laughed along with you as you reached the ballroom, pushing the door open to allow you to go in first. When he joined your side again, he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his mouth as you linked your arm with his again.

“Wow.” You mumbled as you took in the expanse of the room. “You weren’t kidding when you said Sister Imperator pulled out all the stops.”

Copia led you over to the table designed for the newlywed couple. It held four chairs. One for him, one for you, one for Sister, and one meant for your father. He guessed that chair would remain empty for the evening.

You made no comment on it as you took your seat, watching your new husband closely as he sat next to you. “What about you? What made you agree to this marriage?”

He sighed deeply before looking at you. “I feared my place as Papa would be easy to shake. I didn’t inherit it officially through the Emeritus line like my predecessors. Marrying a family member of a high upper clergy member is meant to solidify my status.”

“Ah, a power play.” You nodded.

“Yes, a power play.” He frowned at that term. “But I only agreed once Sister promised she would find me a good match.”

“And what constitutes as a good match to you?” You asked, wondering what he’d requested in a wife.

A smile lit up his face. “The gorgeous woman who is sitting in front of me.”

“Smooth.” You replied, reminding yourself to interrogate him on the topic later.

Guests started flooding in, finding their seats at the various tables that filled the room. You just watched with barely concentrated attention.

You turned to Copia once the room was about three quarters of the way full. “How many of these people do you actually know?”

“I recognise most of them. I would say I probably know a third of them personally.” He shrugged. “How many do you know?”

“None of them.” You shrugged. “I didn’t have any guests come.”

“What? None of them?” He couldn’t quite believe that. He’d assumed that the people he didn’t recognise were your half of the wedding party.

“I don’t know many people back home. Those I do know… I wouldn’t want them here.” Your nose scrunched at the memory, the people you’d grown up around were not people you needed ruining what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life.

Copia looked at you sadly for a moment, wondering whether you were upset by the ordeal. But you seemed fine. “Well, now you have me.”

You looked at him, surprised, before a gentle smile settled on your face. “Now I have you.”

He returned the smile, picking up your hand and placing a soft kiss on the back of it. He mumbled an apology when he noticed the black kiss print he’d left on the skin there. You stopped him when he reached for a napkin to wipe it away, insisting he leave it there.

The moment was disrupted by Sister Imperator collapsing into the seat next to Copia. “You two seem to be getting along well.”

You exchanged a slightly giddy look with Copia before looking back at the older woman.

“We are.” He clarified. “You matched us well.”

“Knew I would.” She said smugly before looking at the empty chair next to you. “Your father did not attend.”

It was a statement more than a question.

A neutral smile settled over your lips, like you were prepared to discuss this. “No. I didn’t want him here. He didn’t want to be here. It was an easy enough decision.”

Imperator respected that response so said no more on the matter, only glancing towards the door to the kitchens where a group of servers were bustling about. “Food should be served soon. Then the day’s celebrations will be over.”

“No after party?” Copia sounded disappointed.

“That’ll be held next weekend. After all official marriage business has been taken care of. Ah, the food!” She sat up straighter in her chair as a waiter suddenly appeared and placed a plate in front of each of you.

You stared down at the appetiser salad that was about the size of your big toe. You hoped there were more courses to come. A lot more. Nevertheless, you picked up your fork and stabbed at a crunchy piece of lettuce before popping it in your mouth.

Copia did the same next to you before looking back towards Imperator again. “Official marriage business? Like what? We are married.”

She looked at him like it was obvious. “Well, you know what happens on the wedding night.”

He only looked more confused. “People getting drunk?”

Imperator rolled her eyes before practically hissing at him. "You must consummate the marriage."

Both you and Copia stopped chewing, forks being lowered to your plates with a clatter.

You swallowed the mouthful, straining slightly to force it down. "How- how soon?"

"Well, tonight preferably." Imperator said calmly. "To solidify your union."

"Sister, we've only just met." Your husband croaked.

The older woman looked at him unimpressed. "Are you trying to tell me you've never had a one night stand with someone you just met?"

"Well-" Copia choked. "That's- that's different."

"Different how?" She questioned, eyes flicking between the two of you. "Treat it like a one night stand. If it's terrible then you do not have to touch each other again. Well, until an heir is expected. But if it is good then see it as a lovely start to your marriage."

You ignored the talk of an heir, the thought of having a man you just met's baby being too much for you to handle in that moment. "Okay."

"Okay?!" Copia whirled on you, surprised you'd agreed that easily.

"Ah, beloved husband, do you find me that repulsive?" You grinned at him, only a hint of genuine worry in your voice.

"No, no. Of course not." He rushed out, thinking about how it was quite the opposite in fact. "I just did not expect you to give in so quickly."

"Give in?" You asked, eyebrows raising in question. "It might surprise you that the concept of sleeping with you does not sound so bad to me, Copia."

His heart, and cheeks, warmed at the use of his name. It was the first time you'd done so. It sounded nice coming out of your mouth. Out of his wife's mouth. "Eh, very well. We shall consummate the marriage."

"Wonderful." Sister Imperator clapped her hands together before standing up. "I shall inform the clergy of this joyous news."

The two of you watched her walk away, abandoning her salad, the knowledge that a group of old men now knew about your future sex lives playing in the back of your minds.

You shook the thought away as you scooted your chair closer to Copia's, lowering your voice for only him to hear. "You sound elated at the concept of sleeping with me."

His eyes widened as he looked at you. "Um, I uh-"

You smirked. "It's okay. We can just pretend if you'd like. They'll never know the difference."

"No, that's- we don't have to do that. Do you want to do that?" He took a deep breath. "To pretend?"

You looked him up and down. "No."

His ears and neck burned red with a flush. "Really?"

You let out a short giggle. "Yes, why is that so surprising to you?"

"Because I'm- and you're-" He gestured at your face but said no more.

You smiled softly. "Well, to me you are-" You mimicked his gesture to his face.

"Oh." He squeaked and you grinned widely at him. "But you're sure? So soon?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Although I would maybe like to see what's underneath all this paint first." You said, letting your eyes roam his face.

"Of course, of course." He babbled. "Maybe you will find yourself disappointed and change your mind."

You rolled your eyes. "Unlikely."

Copia liked your confidence in assuming you were going to find yourself attracted to his face underneath the makeup. He wasn’t so sure himself but at least you’d given his ego a slight boost.

The two of you exchanged idle conversation as more food was served, bigger portions to your relief, and the occasional guest came up to your table to wish you congratulations. You didn’t fail to notice the looks of envy that were sent your way by several people who eyed up Copia hungrily as they approached. You could only laugh to yourself, finding it even funnier that your new husband seemed to lack faith in his looks despite there clearly being a long line of people who wanted him.

A couple of hours passed by and soon enough the guests started clearing out, which you were thankful for. You couldn’t wait to take your shoes off or to ease up the laces on your dress. It had been a long day. But you knew it wasn’t over yet. The time was slowly approaching. The time when you were supposed to sleep with your new husband for the first time.

You weren’t nervous exactly. But there was still an element of apprehension deep inside you.

Once the last few people had departed and Sister Imperator had wished you both a good night, a very suggestive look on her face, you and Copia were left in an empty ballroom.

“Would you like me to give you a tour of the building now? Or in the morning?” He asked you as he took your hand in his, rubbing his gloved thumb over your knuckles.

“In the morning.” You decided. “It will give us something to look forward to. Besides, I can see that you’re tired.”

“Not too tired for you, I promise.” He sighed. “It’s just been a long day.”

“I know.” You agreed and stood up. “Let’s go to bed.”

The words weren’t suggestive in the slightest which is why Copia didn’t feel nervous as he joined your side and the two of you made your way out of the ballroom. He pointed out a few landmarks of the place as you walked in the direction of his rooms but everything went largely unexplored. It could wait for tomorrow.

Anxiety set in as you reached the corridor that led to his bedroom. What if you didn’t like his space? He was willing to change things, to accommodate, as he wanted you to feel welcome. But what if you hated it? And didn’t want to share a room, or a bed, with him. He supposed he would find you your own place to stay. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that it would make him sad.

“And these are my rooms.” He said as he pushed his door open and ushered you in. “Our rooms, if you’d like. But if not then I’m sure we can find you somewhere of your own to stay.”

You looked around as the doors were closed behind you. It was nice. Very him from what you’d gathered so far. There was a book case, overflowing with volumes, next to a desk covered in paperwork in one corner. A large bed took up almost an entire wall, four posters with a curtain hanging around it. Fancy. He had an ornate oak wardrobe teeming with sparkly jackets that poked out of the open doors, you’d have to ask him to model some of those for you at a later date.

You turned towards Copia with a timid smile. “I don’t want to intrude. This is your home.”

He rushed towards you, taking your hands in his to reassure you. “It’s your home now too. I want you to be comfortable here. Well, not right here if you don’t want. Or if you do want.”

You couldn’t express how relieved you were at how sweet he was. “I do want. For now at least.”

His face lit up. “You’ll stay here? With me?”

You nodded, matching his positivity. “Yes.”

“Wonderful, hehe.” He paused and glanced over your shoulder towards the bed. “I will go wash my face and then… then we can…”

“Consummate the marriage?” You offered with a sarcastic smile. “It’s okay, we can take it slow.”

Copia nodded before turning and disappearing into the bathroom. You took the opportunity to snoop around a little, to get a feel for your new husband some more.

In the bathroom, he washed his face meticulously, careful not to be too harsh on his skin. He wanted to look clean and fresh for you, not like a ripe tomato from being too aggressive with a washcloth.

Once he was done Copia stared at himself in the mirror, face only slightly red from where he’d scrubbed the paint away. Faint traces of black had been left around his eyes but he knew no amount of rubbing his eyes raw with a washcloth would clean it away so he left it there. His fists clenched around the edge of the basin, nerves setting in. What if you were disappointed by what was revealed to be under his paints? You said it was unlikely you would be but a part of him still worried. The day had been going smoothly, almost too smoothly, that he thought something was bound to go wrong. And what if it turned out to be his appearance.

Pushing all of that away, he realised that he wouldn’t know any of it for sure until he just went for it. So, after letting the murky grey water wash away, Copia opened the bathroom door and stepped out with an air of faux confidence that quickly dissipated.

He found you stood next to his desk, eyes scanning his book shelves as you had a good look at all of the titles. You glanced over your shoulder at him, doing a double take when you saw him. He was standing in the arch of the bathroom doorway, backlit with light that made him glow. If you weren’t a Satan worshipper you would have said he looked angelic.

Copia shifted from foot to foot as you stared at him silently. The panic was starting to set in again as you continued to say nothing. Why weren’t you saying anything? That feeling vanished when you held out a hand to him.

“Come here.” You said quietly, tipping your head back to invite him over.

He practically ran to you, taking your hand in his but still keeping his distance by a foot or so.

You closed the distance yourself, lifting your spare hand to cup the side of his face in it. “You are so beautiful.”

His shoulders relaxed, tension leaving them, as he leaned into your touch and turned his head to kiss the palm of your hand. “That is high praise coming from you.”

You shook your head playfully. “Oh, my husband’s a charmer.”

My husband. He was your husband. He liked that. “Only for you, amore mio.”

“Don’t go making promises you might not be able to keep.” You teased, warmth flooding through you at the term of endearment he’d used. “What if we hate each other?”

“I think we made a promise when we recited our vows.” He kissed your palm again before leaving one on your wrist as well, quickly making his way down your arm until it was wrapped around the back of his neck. “And I cannot imagine myself ever hating anyone as lovely as you.”

You hummed in response, not being able to form a coherent reply as his face drew nearer to yours. His free hand reached for your waist, winding his arm around you and pulling you flush against his chest. Your intertwined hands stayed connected beside you.

He looked down at you with a half smile curling the edges of his mouth. “Cat got your tongue, amore mio?”

You shook your head slowly. “Just wondering where the shy Copia of a few moments ago disappeared to.”

“Ah, well, my gorgeous wife told me I am beautiful so I decided to toss the nerves aside.” He tilted his head to the side innocently.

“Your wife sounds wise.”

“Oh, she is.” His eyes flickered downwards. “She is also driving me crazy in this dress.”

You averted your own eyes in embarrassment. “I was hoping you’d like it.”

“Oh, amore mio, I do. I really do.” Copia decided then to push towards where the night was inevitably going to end. “However, I think I’d like it even better on the floor.”

Your eyes widened at that. But you liked it. “We better get to work then because it has a lot of buttons and a lot of lace up.”

“You are in luck. I am good with that, you see.” He grinned and gestured downwards.

You followed the angle of his hands and saw that he also had a lot of lace up. Over his crotch. “I guess we can help each other then.”

“Sì.”

And with that he kissed you. It was a lot different to the one kiss you’d shared at the altar. That had been shy and slightly awkward, hundreds of people had been watching after all. But this kiss left that one behind. It was sweet and tender, just as you expected from your new husband. But it was also hungry, like he’d been waiting all day for it. Which he had.

The arm around your waist tightened as he craned his neck to meet you halfway. He tasted vaguely of the soap he’d used to clean his face but it wasn’t unpleasant. You hummed against his lips in approval which only spurred him on, his tongue now licking into your mouth. You let your hand card through his hair before sliding it down onto his cheek again, to keep his face close to yours even when you broke apart to breathe. Your connected hands swung lowly by your sides, his fingers twitching against yours and tangling them further together.

You pulled away from him, breathless, and lifted your joint hands. “Can I ask about the gloves? It’s just I noticed that you kept them on when we did the ring exchange. It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.”

“Oh, right.” He looked down at his hand, specifically to where his new wedding ring was sitting over the top of the leather. “I don’t know really. I’ve always just liked them.”

You hesitated before answering, taking in the way he was looking at you with pure open honesty, before nodding. “Okay. Would you like to keep them on now?”

Copia shook his head rapidly. “No, I will take them off.”

“You don’t have to.” You assured, not wanting to pressure him in to anything.

“No, I will. And then you can put my ring in its rightful place on my finger. Sì?”

You nodded and stepped back a pace as he slid the gloves from his fingers. You bit back a comment about how his hands were beautiful just like the rest of him and only watched until he looked up at you again. He handed you his wedding ring and offered his left hand out to you.

“You sure? No backing out after this.” You joked.

He chuckled. “I think I signed that right away when I said ‘I do’.”

You hummed and slipped the ring onto his finger, bending down to place a kiss over it once you’d done so. “Ah, perfect. See?”

“Yes, perfect.” He whispered.

When you looked back up you found that he was looking at you. You tried not to swoon.

“Are you going to help me get my dress off now that your fingers are free from leather?” You asked to distract yourself from the way he was looking at you.

“Sì, turn around.”

You did as you were told, exposing your back to him. He unfastened all of the buttons slowly and carefully, being gentle with the fabric of your dress, before exposing the section underneath with all of the ribbons that laced up your dress.

“How long did this take you to put on this morning?” He grunted as he untied the first ribbon and loosened it.

“Too long.” You sighed. “I really needed to pee by the end of it.”

Copia huffed out a laugh, his breath fanning against the back of your neck. “All for me? Amore mio, you shouldn’t have.”

“First impressions matter.” You retorted, letting out a quiet groan of relief once the second ribbon was loosened.

He reflected back on his own thoughts of first impressions only hours previously. They did matter, he agreed. He paused when you let out another quiet groan. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes.” You sighed. “This dress may be pretty but it sure is uncomfortable.”

“Should have said something. Would have ripped it off you in the ballroom if it was going to make you comfortable.” He pulled more quickly at the next ribbon, eager to get it off you now.

“Would have been a sight for your guests.” You said over your shoulder.

“No, would have got them to leave. My naked wife is not for them to see.”

“Ah, so possessive already?” You giggled quietly.

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on the side of your neck. “Would prefer it if your body was reserved for me only, yes.”

Your eyelids fluttered shut. “It is, don’t worry.”

His hum of approval vibrated against the skin of your neck. “You’re free by the way.”

Your eyes snapped open and you turned to him again, dress falling loosely around you. You clutched at the neckline for a moment, grasping it to keep you covered. “Um, this dress doesn’t really allow for underwear. So I am actually naked underneath this.”

Copia’s eyes darkened as he glanced towards where you were pressing the fabric against your dress. “Do you want me to look away?”

“No, I was just warning you.” You clarified.

“Warning me?” He took a step closer to you, hand lifting to cover your own. “Amore mio, drop the dress. Please.”

There was only a split second of hesitation before you let go and the dress floated to the ground and created a pool of black lace at your feet. Copia tried desperately to keep his eyes on yours but the temptation was too strong. And when he looked down, there was no looking back up again.

He drank you in slowly but ravenously, eyes taking in every inch of your exposed form. When he started babbling words of appreciation to the Dark One, you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore.

“It’s only fair.” You stated before reaching for his own laces at his crotch.

Copia just batted your hand away from him, grabbing you by the shoulders and spinning the two of you around. Before you could ask what he was doing, he slid his hands down to the back of your thighs and lifted you the couple of inches onto his desk.

“Your paperwork-” You started but he cut you off.

“Don’t worry about it.” He huffed and kissed you again.

You moaned into his mouth when he started pawing at you, hands gliding over your body and squeezing at the handfuls of flesh he was finding. He seemed to be doing it more for his own enjoyment than yours. But you didn’t care, happy that he was just appreciating your body.

Your hips jumped forward when his clothed pelvis met yours, a mewl tumbling from your mouth at the friction. Copia took note of that and hooked an arm around the back of your ass and scooted you forward towards the edge of the desk.

“Did that feel good?” He asked and smiled when you nodded enthusiastically. “Hm.”

He bucked his hips towards yours again, using his hand at the small of your back to guide you closer to him and encourage your own movements. You whimpered into his mouth, desperate for more. It felt good but you needed more. You needed him.

“Copia…” You whined, hoping to get the idea across.

“I know, amore mio, I know.” He huffed, shrugging his jacket off of his shoulders. “Can you get the buttons on my shirt please?”

Your hands flew to unfasten it as quickly as possible, not questioning why he wasn’t doing it himself. Not until one of his hands drifted from your waist to your inner thigh at least. You paused momentarily, toes curling, when his thumb brushed against your clit. Watching your reactions closely, Copia did it again.

You cried out, forehead dropping to meet his chest. “Please.”

“Please what, amore mio? Tell me, hm?” He kissed the top of your head gently to encourage you, the confidence he had when performing as Papa now helping him take charge now.

“More. Please more.” You didn’t have the words to describe what you needed.

But he knew. He lifted your head with his free hand, kissing you again, before rubbing a tight circle against your clit with his thumb. The noise you made cemented what he already knew. So he did it a few more times before re-angling his hand to slide a finger inside of you.

It felt so good that you bit down on his bottom lip by accident.

“Ah, fuck, I’m sorry.” You grumbled against him.

“No apologies necessary.” He replied softly, pulling his finger back out before pumping it back in again. This time joined with a second one.

Your eyes closed in pleasure, head dropping backwards and legs circling around the backs of his.

“Amore mio, you didn’t finish with my shirt.” He reminded you in a playful tone.

Your eyes shot open again, your hands racing to get the last of the buttons undone and the garment off of him. When it was done, pushed off his shoulders, slid down his arms, his hand momentarily retracting from you to get it fully off and on the floor, you immediately leaned forward and started exploring his chest with your mouth. You kissed, you licked, you sucked, you bit, you were insatiable. Copia enjoyed your enthusiasm.

So he doubled down in his own actions, pumping his fingers into you at an even faster speed, thumb circling your clit even harder. And soon enough it had you crashing over the edge and collapsing backwards on the desk, back flattening against the piles of paperwork.

Copia licked his hand clean, sucking your essence from his skin, with a satisfied hum. He then finished undressing himself, having no trouble with his own laces, before grabbing your hips to get your attention.

You lazily lifted your head, shooting straight up when you saw what he’d been hiding between his legs. “Are all Papas this hung?”

He barked out a laugh. “Yes, it’s a requirement for the position.”

You watched as he pumped himself a few times before stepping forward and running his tip through your folds, gathering your slick to lube himself up. Your jaw hung open the whole time.

Copia rested a hand on your cheek to get your attention again. “Amore mio, are you ready?”

You nodded at him. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

He slid into you with ease, face falling to meet your shoulder as you swallowed him in. He groaned lowly at the feeling, you were so warm and wet and felt so good. You made your own desperate sounds next to his ear that he couldn’t even take a moment for himself, too eager to please you. So he pulled back out slowly before thrusting in again. Your hands flew to his back, keeping him near as your nails scratched into him. He didn’t care.

Lifting his head to see the two of you meeting between your bodies, he noticed that you were doing the same thing. He couldn’t stop himself from kissing you when you made eye contact. Thoughts ran wild through his head, wondering how’d he been lucky enough to be granted you as his mystery wife. The universe must have messed up somehow, right? No, it hadn’t. Because here you were. On your wedding night. And he was inside of you as you kissed.

The kiss made mobility difficult but neither of you wanted to pull away. Copia had an arm around your waist to keep you steady and a hand on the back of your head to keep you close. You, on the other hand, just clung onto him like your life depended on it. His hips snapped backwards and forwards at a fast pace to keep the friction going but not too harshly as to disturb the meeting of your mouths. Your tongue licked into his mouth hotly and Copia could taste the desire on you. It reflected what he already felt in himself.

“Close.” You managed to gasp out during a break for oxygen.

But Copia knew that, he could tell by the way you were clenching around him. So he didn’t switch up the pace, just kept going with what he knew felt good for you. And soon enough, he had you falling over the precipice again.

He wasn’t far behind, hips rutting forward frantically a few more times before he pulled out and spilled himself over your thighs and the stacks of paperwork you were sitting on.

You giggled tiredly at the sight and looked up at him. “It’s our wedding night and we didn’t even make it to the bed.”

He hadn’t even realised that, glancing over at his large bed with fresh sheets. “We still have time.”

The fatigue washed away at that answer. “Oh?”

Copia offered a hand out to you. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up first.”

You took his hand and hopped off the desk, following him into the bathroom where he washed your thighs off. After that, Copia led his wife to your shared bed where he planned to keep you for the foreseeable future.

A/N: me staring at the title of this fic knowing full well I already have an Obi-Wan fic titled “Absolution”. It bothers me a little but not enough to come up with a new title since this one took me almost as long to come up with as it took me to write the fic itself.

[eldrith]

oh babe dont get me wrong, i thoroughly enjoyed the fic (everything you write is an automatic favorite) and it was so, so heartwrenchingly beautiful but omg i'm in pain lmao.

also going back to the last ask you answered of mine (before the sad fic one. lol)!! absolutely he is the #1 wifehusband. dare i say #1 malewife. but this part!! "he’d want to talk to his wife for days on end, and also could (and does) talk about her for so so long to anyone who was around. #1 wifehusband i stand by this" skdufhaskf YESSSSSSSS. i can just imagine him keeping his wife up later than usual (and not for the reasons she truly desires. jace is a dumb Loser for not noticing.) yapping her ear off, especially if it's been a busy busy day as the crown prince.!! or rhaenyra having to cut jace off in a council meeting bc he's droning on and on about his wife, and while she thinks it's cute and endearing, they have actual business to attend to.. "and wearing pieces of jewelry that belongs to each other omg." girl i just went weak in the knees ugh akshfaksj didn't know i needed that in my life but now i do. or jace having jewelry crafted from pieces of old swords/equipment of his for his wife to have something of his with her always, or his wife giving him a tiny pocket square of embroidery to tuck into his pocket that has become so worn from the amount of time he spends rubbing his thumb over it (especially during longgggggg meetings). he lowkey gives fidgeter vibes so i can just see it becoming a soothing mechanism for him !! "so cute and like can u imagine how rhaenyra would just be so happy to see how happy jace is (& how incredible of a man hes become… hes so devoted to his sweet wife)" i'm getting teary eyed with an idea of rhaenyra thinking about how proud harwin would be of jace and what a great man he's become. anyway don't let me expand further on that bc i will Cry (and talk your ear off for 12 hours)!!!!!!! also rhaenyra would be the best mother in law??? ever??? so so supportive and sweet and loves how much you love and adore her son. anyway. Anyway. also in my head luke lives and spends 90% of the day teasing jace over how whipped he is for his wife :// little brother things i fear. and jace has zero shame bc he's #1 wife guy and knows luke will be the exact same way one day soon.

one day i will expand on jace as a father but. i fear i've talked enough today pookie. love u. - hubby jace anon <33

aw stop ur too nice omg :') im glad u enjoyed it <3

but omg yes 10000% to all of this.

jace literally bounding into his wife's quarters, basically oblivious to the looks she's sending him as he just rambles and talks, so excited to be with her. and asking her about her day, sighing gently when she starts to kiss up and down his neck nevermind i can't go there

also in the earlier stages of marriage or when the war is quite stressful and theyre at council and jace out of nowhere just snaps to defend his wife's honor, calling someone out who slightly disrespected her and the chamber goes silent... <3<3 love <3<3

i also loveee the idea of having a piece of him on her at all times <3 and like... jace gets one of her rings and puts it on a necklace and wears it under his clothes. he fidgets with it when he's reading or strategizing, just as he does with the pocketsquare (you have to give him a new one bc the first one is so frayed) alSO he takes your hair ribbons and uses them as bookmarks. yeah

& ur so right rhaenyra would be emotional and see so much of harwin in jace and shes just so proud. also yes she'd be the best mother in law i see her inviting you to dine with her and just thoroughly enjoying your presence, gossiping and just loving spending time with you & seeing you interact with her son. she would love you like a daughter - she always wanted one.

also stop can you imagine luke... oh my goddd. hed be thrilled to make fun of jace and i feel like he'd become so fond of calling jace ur dog lmao.

things like being in a hall with luke when jace enters, speaking with some lord - you wait for him patiently to end his conversation but luke has no mind for that and immediately teases jace. calling out to him, "here boy!" mocking and whistling like one would summon a dog, "your lady needs you!"

or or or (you've awoken a beast in me this is your fault) like

him walking past and catching jace adjusting the clasp on your necklace or something, maybe helping you with your slippers and he cant help but just go "i swear you’ve got him trained better than the hounds." you roll your eyes at luke, shooing him away with a grin as he mutters "he’d probably sit and beg if you asked him to.”

but jace would just grin so proudly, laughing and shaking his head as he stepped back to admire his handiwork - then sending you a look when luke is gone lmao.

& luke and jace sitting at a feast watching you dance with others and luke just gives him a look, "wipe that grin off your face, you look like you've gone mad. i think you're salivating" and jace is just like "she's so beautiful." & luke rolls his eyes, gagging, “gods help me if i ever get like that.”

but jace knows his brother, and he smirks, "oh, you’ll be there someday, luke.” luke rolls his eyes and huffs, "strike me dead first." and with no hesitation jace just mutters "i'll be sure to. if not before."

yeah i have so many thoughts about that... luke would become jace's wife's annoying little brother but also her bff

also PLEASE father jace bring it on omg. he'd be the cutest father i actually am going to pass out

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Could I request Helaena and Aegon in a ploy relationship with more femine male reader who helps around the castle, the relationship starting while helping Hel out when she’s pregnant with the twins and showing that he’s not afraid to stand up to Aegon despite his reputation? Can be headcanon/fic format

The dragon couple and the servant

Heleagon x male!reader

warning : fluff, comfort, kiss, cuddling, alcohol consumption, reader has longer hair

info : thank you dear anon for the request always happy to write for hotd and liked your words very much. Heleagon really needs something good. Enjoy reading and have a good day :)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~

The king and queen of the greens were destined to wear the crown one day since Aegon and Helaena were born so it had to happen according to the council of the greens.

This is how and no other way the royal green Hightower Targaryen family was meant to continue, and to help the young couple they had not only their own family to help them but also numerous servants and ladies in waiting as well as the Kingsguard.

People who accepted the orders and helped the couple from the outside without a second thought…but despite everything, there was hardly a knight, nor even a servant.

A small house of knights from a very small country came to the king's court to swear allegiance to Aegon, who first found Helaena's company when he caught her butterfly that had landed on the tip of his nose. ,,A shield will come to help” she had said then, not knowing that these words were to become wharer than anything else when she took the butterfly back and he saw it as his duty to bring her back to her mate, for apparently the queen had no guards or they were off looking for the king again.

He walked beside her at a certain distance knowing her preference to keep to herself but it was too dangerous without protection. “What kind of butterfly is it my Queen?” he had dared to ask as he looked at the insect's greenish golden wings, seeing the Targaryen Hightower gently stroking the animal and giving him a soft smile, seeming happy as she began to tell and tell and tell.

The conversation continued in her room, she offered him a place on the floor where she had more animals and maybe he smiled more often because he liked the young queen, maybe he smiled when she put some animals on his hand and maybe he smiled when he looked into her pretty violet eyes because she was the most beautiful thing he knew.

°Heleana and his relationship because of his long hair she loved to braid it as a distraction special kinds of braids that kings and queens had worn. It reassured him when she was so close to him he could protect her in return Aegon who usually looked in front of him also got a few small braids as best he could and the three of them spent their time like this when they all needed some rest.

Aegon the king was the king's first son with his second wife, a young man with a reputation for being hot-headed, unhinged and drunk, as well as for whoring in the streets of Silk.

Opinions that everyone had, even he himself knew of the king's deeds and had once even accompanied him to keep an eye on him, sneaking out of the brothels more than once for his own goodness' sake.

He had been insulted by Aegon in his drunken stupor, he said that a woman's appearance in a man was the best way to start working in a brothel and even when he was angry with his king, sometimes even wanting to hit him at the end of the day when night fell and he saw this figure stumbling towards the castle wall, he sighed and went down. “I-I deeoon't neeaad you,” Aegon muttered and fell down again if he hadn't been supported, at the end of the day he felt sorry for the king.

Yet there was something handsome about the Targaryen Hightower king the bright pretty hair, violet eyes and something inside that he wants to do good but doesn't know how. ,,You'll feel better in a moment, my king,” he agreed and carried him over to the bed and felt Aegon holding him, not wanting him to leave…and he didn't.

He stayed all night giving him water and a little bread until the king fell asleep again, receiving quiet thanks and even a brief hug while Aegon found the fine soft hands soothing on his. Until in the morning he found a sober Aegon who gave him an ashamed look, Heleana came to them some time later with a cup of tea and food and the three of them ate, sometimes quietly, sometimes talking, but most of all the royal couple seemed glad that there was someone who took them both as they were.

°Aegon then apologized for his bad jokes and misdeeds would give his new friend and maybe even more in this three-way relationship a sword and armor a small land for the future. It would be the small deeds of a king trying to mend his ways. Aegon on Sunfyre with their shared lover and Helaena on Dreamfyre taking flights together. Such intimate moments that Ageon actually only did alone and Helena had a better relationship with her dragon were shared with the only person they were close to.

But even the moons that passed became more stressful and darker and the three shared the bed at some point, even if it was Aegon's prerogative to take care of his wife.

The first signs of nausea and pain were always guarded at first by Aegon, who eventually withdrew and then by her lover, Heleana offered his hand or arm everywhere, helped her climb Dreamyfre, brought her food and thought like teas and tinctures. ,,A new insect a bug for good luck” he had said and showed her the pink beetle a gift he had ridden into the forest for knowing she was interested in it ,,An animal of love and blood thank you" she replied and grabbed his hand for a moment in thanks before turning to her new friend.

But another shadow soon settled over the three of them the good time they were having was disrupted after the birth of the twins where Aegon and the immediately in the room were the only ones holding the two besides the queen herself the king shirked his duties more and more as the shadow of war began to settle over the land, ,,My king, your deeds must make you escape punishment and take the crown, take your advice and do what you must,” he admonished again as he met the green king sitting drunk on the throne at night.

He was sympathetic to the situation of Heleana and his children, Rhaenyra on Dragonstone and his own brother full of ambition for the throne. But on the contrary, all he heard were slurred words and insults, which resulted in him grabbing the king by the collar and dragging him behind him, ignoring his shouts and commands with a heavy heartbeat before opening the door to Heleana's room softly.

The queen lay in her bed in her arms the twins a soft smile on her lips while a beetle sat on her head, ,,There Aegon there lies our heart, this throne ascend it and win the war for your will for the will of your children. I am your loyal shield but without you I can protect no one” he said and let it go hearing the sniffling as Aegon wiped away the tears before a soft smile formed on his lips. He pulled his friend, his heart into a hug, hugged him, thanked him and pressed a big kiss on his head as Heleana had once done after the birth of the twins.

°Not only did Aegon make him part of the Kingsguard, he used him as a guard for himself and his sister. The three of them kept repeating the words of courage to each other, trying to come up with plans and advice to help Aegon in the green council. It was their cohesion of dragon dreams, the king and the sworn shield that the first battles of the war, the victories went to the greens while all three enjoyed the twins who saw the three as their three-headed dragon parents.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[waynewifey]

dear mr. wayne — b.w

part one: dear mr. wayne

part two: aftermath

part three: aporia

epilogue

summary: it’s not easy being a politician’s wife. it’s even harder to love a vigilante. months of negligence make you an easy target to his enemies.

pairing: bruce wayne/battinson x reader

genre: angst romance & dark action

warnings: swearing; smoking; kidnapping; violence; a bit of gore; “you” is she/her; bruce is the worst husband ever btw

word count: 2.8k

A/N: i wrote this back in january 2022 when the batman movie had just premiered, so kinda off the hype here. i hope you enjoy it anyway. already working on part 2, let me know if you guys would like it! also, this has taken a path way darker than i had in mind so i’m sorry if it’s too much. comments are appreciated!

gotham city, USA.

it's late.

you have no clock nearby, but you feel it in your bones. in your muscles too. it's too late and bruce should be home already. laying in the sofa, only half conscious, you regret telling alfred to go to bed. at least you wouldn't be alone. of course, being married to the batman you knew he would patrol at night often. you were okay with it. but lately bruce had been too focused on his other, and recent, goal: running for mayor. at first it seemed out of character, he was never good with the public or the press. but he stared at thomas wayne's painting in the hall in such painful façade, it made sense all off sudden. you were supportive of it. you showed up to every event just to stay by his side, to show the people the lovable man he was. the man you loved. the man who couldn't even be home for dinner.

the penthouse's elevator dings, opening its doors at the end of the hallway you see perfectly from your seat. your head doesn't lift instantly, like in the first week. instead, a long sigh escapes from your lips as bruce reaches the living room.

"hello, darling." he says, still in motion as he walks the stairway up to the room you shared. not a single kiss, or a hug. you follow him, because what else is there to do? you need to go to bed anyway. by the time you get there, slowly, his suit is already on the floor and he's taking a shower.

"how was the meeting?" you ask, knowing he usually did his Wayne Enterprising meetings — which consisted of hanging out long hours in bars with business men — at night. recently, he started a complicated relationship with a real estate company he wanted to invest in.

"the usual." he stopped fully answering these questions three weeks ago, making the only time you ever talked even shorter. the city has gotten more violent than ever since his batman duties were put on standby.

"any closer to sealing the deal?" you sit on the bed, watching the open bathroom door.

"probably." it's not like he's being rude. well, maybe a little bit. he just doesn't want to talk any more, it's clear on his tone. but it's 2am and you brain isn't working too well.

"when is this gonna end, bruce?" you finally say, as he puts his boxers on. "when are we ever having dinner again? or going on a date? when are you gonna stop treating me like i'm some sort of home decor?" you almost vomit out the words that have been stuck on your throat for days. surprisingly, the heartache doesn't softens. instead, it gets worse. it's like admitting your abandonment.

six months ago, you started trying to get pregnant. it hadn't always been a dream of yours, but the idea of having an heir to all you've spent your life building is charming. you realised you were in the right time to do so, you had just turned 28, bruce was 32, and both had stable careers. a month later, bruce announced his candidacy. and so soon you gave up. you told yourself once he won the election everything would be fine. you would try again. but, realistically, being a mayor was already a lot of work on itself. he wouldn't want a pregnant wife or a child to take care of. after the four years, who knows? he might as well have a new life project. and your family would always stand on the side.

"i don't know what you're talking about..." he doesn't look into your eyes. hell, he barely looks at you. that feeling, the negligence, is enough to trigger the tears. you take a deep breath, making an effort to look composed.

"don't you, though?" your voice is shaken. look at me. look at me. look at me. look at me. he doesn't. "bruce." you call, finally getting his attention. however, the boredom on his face knocks you off your feet, legs trembling in pain and anger. "i just want you to make an effort on us..."

"really? cause that's all i ever done." he's leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed in a way you would find attractive in other circumstances. but now he's yelling and you fight back the urge to shrink into the mattress. "do you think i wanna have a kid on this fucked up town? i'm tryna fix this. fix everything!" his faces turns red-ish. something inside of you makes you want to leave the room. you've always been an avoider, that is one of the reasons you hadn't really had couple fights. so, basically, this is very new. "i've got the weight of the fucking world on my back."

"let's leave then" you manage to say, replacing the you chose this. it was true, however, that he was the one to put himself in this position. bruce wayne could've gotten his entire life without working if he wanted to. but he always needed to save everyone, to suffer for other's happiness. he was a giver. sometimes you wondered if he needed to be saved instead.

"you know i can't do that." he mumbles, in a defeated tone. a sigh escapes from his lips, suddenly the tiredness takes over his face. it's almost enough to make you let it go, to internalise your distress again. he really can't, you know that. he feels that the city is his liability, because it was the only thing he had since he became an orphan. but he had you, too. he just didn't acknowledge that.

"and i can't stay like this." it sounds like an whisper, but it's a plead. choose me. please. he seems to read it in your eyes, face contorting in agony when he realises what you're asking for. me or gotham? it's stupid to think he would ever choose you. but you hoped, so desperately, because you would choose him. always.

"let's not do this tonight, okay? i have to be in the office by the morning." tears instantly fall as he turns off the lights and lays on the bed, turning his back to where you slept. for a moment, you're static. his words were final. were you ever in control of something in your life? why were all of these decisions being made for you? mechanically, you stand on both feet and walk to the door. you don't even notice your movement until you're on the elevator. your husband didn't intervene either. this neighbourhood is one of the safest in town, which honestly isn't much but you had to get out. anyway, nowhere is totally safe at 3am.

you walk two blocks, clinging to the fluffy sweater you wore. the depressing air of gotham slows your pace, to a point you start wondering if it was really necessary to be aware. you could feel the city devouring you, starting with your hope. the blue 24h sign lights up the street, in a way that isn't welcoming, but you know the place well enough to not be scared to get in. a bell sounds over the door and wakes up the male behind the counter. he's got long black hair and seems to haven't seen a good night of sleep in weeks. same,you think.

"hi. can i get the blue one?" you point at the camel's behind the man. he nods, quickly putting a pack on the wooden board. the prices pops up on the cashier's display. you pay and go outside. smoking was an bad habit from your college days, when pressure got too excruciating. every now and then you would treat yourself to some cigarettes, for the confidence it gave you. the sense of control to be the one, for once, ruining yourself. the smoke burns your throat on the first inhale and you hold back a cough. you're too entertained by the cigar to notice the black van approaching. it stops right in front of you, and everything happens too quickly for your brain to process. it's all dark.

he's in a meeting, the boring kind.

the kind that has him seated in silence while a representative talks to his employees, who never get to listen to their actual boss. there's a chart being shown on a large tv on the other side of the room. he's not listening, though. he's writing down ideas for a thanksgiving speech. a head pops into the conference room.

"mr. wayne." it's one of the new assistants, hired especially for the election season. he didn't care to memorise her name, because temps usually don't last long. if she hadn't called him, he might've not even looked up. but the room is silent, expecting eyes on him. the girl at the door looks terrified. "you're urgently required outside, please."

he sighs as he gets up from his leather chair. the second the door closed behind him, chatter is heard again. in the corridor, the woman conducts him to his office and they get in. there's a bit of a commotion, four men lounge around his table, all their faces tense.

"mr. wayne, i'm afraid we don't have good news." the head of the marketing team speaks, a man called robert vance. he's probably said the same phrase to bruce about seven times this month, so that doesn't do much. the assistant approaches with an ipad, unpausing a video. "we received this from an anonymous email about forty minutes ago. we weren't able to get the ip address just yet."

the video starts with a black screen, zooming out to show a woman with a bag over her head. she has her hands on her back and is kneeling on the ground. bruce's heart skips a beat noticing the hair falling down her shoulders.

"bruce wayne..." an eerie voice whispers from behind the camera, breathing heavily. "i've robbed an egg from your basket, and you haven't even noticed!" there's a disturbing chuckle and the video shakes a bit. bruce doesn't move, eyes stuck on the screen. no one in the room has done anything other than breathing. someone gulps. "it's been long hours, but we're having fun, aren't we, darling?" a gloved hand reaches for the bag, pulling it out. her face - your face - is dripping blood. you're biting on a fabric, still in your home clothes. bruce's jaw clenches. you're crying, face beaten, in this degrading situation. your eyes pierce the screen right into his. suddenly, a gun is tapped on your forehead and you close your eyes into a sob. your lips mouth please. "i'm running out of patience here, you're running out of time. let's do business, shall we?" he laughs, knocking the pistol on the side of your head, making you fall laying on the floor, unconscious. the spot bleeds. "here's my proposal: you come clean about your father's deal with carmine falcone and maybe i don't shoot little mrs. wayne... or i do both. it's your choice, really. the clock is ticking. tick tock, wayne."

the video stops, the sight of a gun pointed at your unresponsive body burns into his mind. bruce is panting, the adrenaline rushes into his brain. there's a million of plans being built, but none of them seem viable.

"don't let media get this." he managed to say. one of the men in suits says it's too late. the tv flicks on showing a news report on the video. he kicks the side of his table, the contents being thrown across the room. "FUCK! you bastards wait forty fucking minutes to show me this?" he screams, no one can look him in the eyes. a hand runs through his black hair. "meanwhile my wife is out there with a gun on her head! and what have you done? i swear to god, if i don't find her alive and well i'm killing everyone in this goddamned room with my bare hands."

he storms out of there, reaching to his phone to call alfred and noticing the multiple missed calls. fucking silent mode. the sun is setting.

"i got the address." the butler says, instead of hello. a 'ding' sounds in his ear.

there has been pain for so long. you try to remember before the pain. but all is pain. he has to make it stop.

the floor is cold cement and you feel so small in this huge warehouse. the man in the mask knows you can't run. not only you're tied up, but the will had left you long before getting dragged into that van. he sees it in your eyes. so he strolls around, always in that ridiculous dark green overall. then he beats you up for fun. no cameras. just you and the devil himself. you find yourself praying, after all these years. you don't pray to get out, no. you pray so that it ends soon. you pray that the stab wound in your abdomen will get you an infection. you pray that when you close your eyes, you never have to open them again. but the divine has left you in the cold cement.

there's an explosion. your eyes open. there's smoke and dust taking over one of the walls. you're seeing everything horizontally, cheek on the floor. the man in green is just as scared as you were.

bruce wayne busted that fucking wall down. he expected a full team of psychopaths and maybe some more security. there was just one coward in the warehouse. the thing stares at him coming out of the smoke, fingers fidgeting. the batman steps forward. the freak steps back. then turns around, runs to a half broken wardrobe and grabs a gun from it. bruce walks slowly. there's a struggle loading the gun. he takes the opportunity to run and throw the thing on the floor. he bangs his head on it. the vermin screams. he takes one punch. two. tries to reach for the fallen gun. bruce steps on his hand and the loud crack echoes in the room. he screams again. three punches. the mask is taken off. his nose is bleeding. more punches. he holds the neck. the head is turning purple. oh how he wants to kill this little shit. bruce wayne will kill him. it will just take a few more seconds...

"baby, no" at first he thinks he's imagining it. it's so soft, so weak. but he looks up and there she is. his hands loose. right on the corner, chains on her legs. her face is ruined from blood and dirt. her wrists bleed too. the motherfucker chained her. hell is too good for this thing.

bang. on his shoulder. he looks down and the blood is dripping on the freak's face. he’s pushed to the side, holding the wound. tiny white dots obstruct his vision. he grunts through the pain. the man gets up and runs towards you. bruce can’t move. he arches his back, trying to roll and lay on his chest. it feels like he can’t move his arm anymore, like his bones had detached. when he finally does so, the man is escaping through a window. his hand searches for the adrenaline-boost in his belt, grabs it and quickly injects on his leg. it takes a second to get his blood rushing again. he crawls up and jumps through the window, which leads him to a metal balcony.

you’re almost standing, but he holds your chains and a gun to your face. the shooting sound had scared you awake. you can’t believe how close to bruce you finally are, but the conditions couldn’t be worse. you can hear water running below your feet, you don’t need daylight to show you the violent river you’re standing above. this is not good.

bruce has his hands up in the air and is holding himself back to not do anything stupid. the man’s face is contorting into the creepiest smile. no.

everything happens so slowly, yet he’s not quick enough to grab you in time. you’re falling in the air and he jumped after you. for a moment, the world is air. you can’t hold out your hand. your hair is flying in your face, he does not want to die without seeing you one last time. his cape holds him back and the distance between you only increases. you’re gone. the impact comes.

part two

[ch4osworld]

THE PASSENGER

A Lucifer x fem!reader ff

This is my first time writing a fanfiction, or writing in general plus my native language isn't english so sorry for any mistake! Critiques are welcome as long as they are respectful and reblogs and comments are well liked! I am planning to make this a series so tell me if you like it!

Words:1509

You were in the garden of Eden, long (h/c) hair flowing behind you. That's when you were created, when you begun living. You were made to be the first wife of the man Adam. You truly loved him, at least you thought you did, you did everything he told you, always being good...then why were you taken and put into heaven?Why did you have to be taken away by your one true love?You stood there, confused, scared even, with only your long hair covering your nudity. That's when you met him, an oh so wonderful and stunning angel, Lucifer was his name. He dressed you, took care of you, cared about you. It didn't take long for you to catch feelings for him. What was a lady supposed to do when some handsome was so caring to you, so touchy even. You still remember the times he took you flying with him, the look of adoration he gave you, it was just you two, flying in the sky peacefully. The comfort he would give you, his touch always lingered on your skin, oh how you wanted him to hold you like that forever.

You stood there, high in heaven, observing Adam, the one that was supposed to be you husband, with another woman. Lilith was her name, how could he do this to you? Did he not love you? No you were sure he did. But if you were so sure then why did tears start falling from your eyes? Why did you start crying like that? You felt horrible. If the man that was supposed to love you for eternity didn't want you, who would have? You hear rustling behind you, and that's when he came: "Y/n? Are you ok?" You didn't respond to him, you didn't have the strength to, you felt so embarassed, you were so vulnerable,what would he think of you now: "Oh sweetheart what happened to you? Who hurt you? Please don't cry I hate seeing you like this. I know that whatever the problem is we can deal with this togheter" and there again, the usual hold he would give you in those moments. He treated you with such a care, you felt bad for him. You used all your strength to mutter some shaky words: "Why is he with another woman, who is she?"  He answered, holding you closer to him: "Dear, is this really the problem that's taunting you every day? Don't be sad, please, trust me he doesn't deserve your love. He doesn't deserve you! You are the most wonderful woman I have ever laid my eyes upon, it's not your fault he doesn't see your beauty. It's not your fault he doesn't love you". You sobbed back: "No, no he does love me. I was made for him he surely dose. He just doesn't understand it yet". He watched you with compassion as he kept comforting you.

Lucifer, or Luci, as you would always call him, always talked to you about all his plans and ideas. You never understood them much, you were too naive, too dumb and stupid to understand, but you would always support him through it no matter what. You always encouraged him to expose his ideas, you were his number 1 supporter. You loved him oh so much, you always did and you always will. Nothing would have prepared you to the day he got casted down from heaven, and with Lilith too. Not only have you lost the one you REALLY loved, he loved someone else too, the same one that stole Adam away from you. Damn Lilith, if only you were as pretty, if only you were so captivating maybe it would have been you who got casted down with him. After that you came back to the life at Eden, becoming Adam's wife again, but you couldn't be happy, not when Lucifer was gone for good, you longed for his grasp once again, and so, you did the unimaginable, you decided to fall down for him. You always liked to explore places, you saw a lot of heaven, it was bound that you eventually found the entrance to hell. You were afraid, but your love for him guided you into the pits of that horrendous place. You did it for him, and him only. you jumped and fell for who knows how long. You landed in a place full of Sakura trees, it was beautiful, absolutely stunning. The petals on the ground where as soft as snow and it was so calm you could easily fall asleep in there. You didn't have the time to savor the space you were in at the time. Too focused on the pain all over your naked body. You couldn't give up yet, you had to find him, you had to find Lucifer. You were trying to move from the ground, to get up peraphs, that's when he found you.

Lucifer was relaxing among the trees when he heard a loud thud. Startled, he went checking what the source of the sound was, and that's when he saw you: "What the- Y/n? Is that really you? Oh god what have you done! Why are you in here? Are you hurt? Here let me help you dear" he got you dressed and picked you up, you could hear the hurt in his voice as he murmured you comforting words and whys: "I am sorry, I didn't know what I was thinking. I missed you Luci, I missed you so much I just wanted to see you again" you cried to him. He replied: "Please don't apologize, there is nothing for you to be sorry about. I am just glad you are with me again, I missed you so much, you know?Don't worry sweetheart, me and my wife will take care of you, we will teach you all about this place. Oh there is so many things I have to tell you! Lilith will be super happy knowing she can finally put a face to the name, she always wanted to know you!"

Right....Lilith

It took you a lot to adjust to the situation, and Lucifer and Lilith being all lovey dovey didn't help you one bit. You were forced to see them togheter, you lived with them after all. It isn't that you had any place to go other then his castle. You enjoyed living in there, and you savored all the alone moments you had with him, but oh it hurt you so much, but if you really loved him, you'd let him go, so you kept staying with them as your heart broke and shatteted more, the longer you were with them. The thing you didn't know though is that you weren't the only one suffering from all of this .

Lucifer's pov

As he brought his friends to his castle, his heart was flooded with a torrent of emotions, absorbing his every being. The flames of love once felt for her burnt with a passion he never felt before in his life, peraphs that flame never extinguished. As y/n lived there, his life had changed in an unimaginable way, as he lived in a never ending desperation. A desperation born from the knowing that his heart belonged eternally to his wife, but every quick glances, every alone time spent with y/n, served as a poignant reminder of his unceasing adoration for you. Yet, in the depths of his agony, he found solace in the the devotion and trust he vowed to always give to his wife, that he would never betray her, not when she lived an oh so happy life with him by his side. There was no other choice, he must let you go.

Y/n's pov

The more you learnt about hell the more you felt confident navigating it's depths of your own. You began forming a sense of identity, you started to know yourself, something you were never permitted to do in Eden, you even dared to cut your beautiful, long hair. You didn't like them, they held too many harrowing memories you needed to let go of. Your free spirit was finally able to show itself, the decisive step happened when you decided to leave his castle for good. The agony you felt seeing them togheter becoming unbearable to you. You ventured into the steppes of hell, explored all you had to see, seeked every secret of it. Your hunting never stopping, as the inferno kept increasing in size. The more it got bigger, the more you wanted more, you soon got hungry for it, and you ate all your discoveries. You didn't have a home, you'd rather sleep and get food from the people of this place, also making the usual visit to Lucifer and Lilith. It didn't take long for the demons to get used to you, you also managed to make a few friends. Only a select few knew your real name, the majority of people simply called you

The Passenger.

[xjulixred45x]

okay, I think I'll focus on making a few requests before doing the final work on HADES....BUT FIRST ONE LAST WORK ON KNY.

in this case from Kimetsu Gakuen/Kimetsu Academy.

mainly to make up for the Angst of Kokushibo and his son, so here we go (I'll just refer to reader as "son" because it's easier).

We already know that Kokushibo is dedicated to being Muzan's "bodyguard", and probably thanks to this no one entertains the idea that this man has children or a family in general.

but no, he does have them.

He and his wife (Haruhime seems to be a popular name for Michikatsu's wife so I will use it here) taking into account their work they do everything possible to keep their children's lives anonymous, whether teaching them at home or in high-level private institutions. They will not settle for less for their children.

and I can imagine His oldest child (reader) being especially gifted in those types of areas, the type of child who has the best grades as a child, and has a higher than average IQ level. which makes his parents very proud. that's for(due to recommendations) they decide to put him in various activities to "stimulate" him and have many possibilities in the future.

This causes son to unintentionally become an Overarchiver, that is, he goes to MANY activities at the same time, some he likes, others not so much, but he doesn't dare to tell his parents (especially his father) for fear of disappointing them. .

When he is very Burnout, he does REALLY innocuous and intricate things to miss his activities and his father doesn't notice, it is literally easier to do a stunt.

Kokushibo is not a bad father here, if he comes from the same background as in the original manga, he himself does not know how to have a normal upbringing for any of his children, so he tries to be the opposite in every way of his father, encouraging his child and not discourage him. apart from the fact that he personally fears that his son will be afraid of him (which ironically in a sense is already happening...)

Probably despite being so talented and deadly, he doesn't even realize how negatively this affects his son, his high expectations of him come more from ignorance (of not being very emotionally intelligent) than from a real urgency for his son to stand out in everything.

Other than that, he's a pretty decent father. when he gets the chance, he brags about his son and how smart he is to "trusted" people, tries to go to his son's sports/debate shows, supports him when he gets in trouble (even if he gets in trouble at home ), etc.

I imagine that being an Overarchiver, Kokushibo's son receives many MANY comparisons from both teachers and parents of other students, so he is not very popular so to speak...

You can see Kokushibo even forcing Kaigaku to give him certain reports about his son😅 and ironically they both end up becoming friends (Kokushibo doesn't know whether to be happy or worried, on the one hand his son finally has a friend, but it turns out to be the worst influence possible) .

Kaigaku even ends up helping Kokushibo's son get away with his escapades and relax a little, which would be nice in a way.

(he also tried to convince him to vandalize the bike of a boy who was especially mean to him, but son ran away).

the meetings at the Tsugikuni house when Kaigaku and Kokushibo are there at the same time must be VERY awkward.

some extra information about this:

*I think Kokushibo's other daughter (the youngest, I'll call her Mitsuki) is also an overarchiver, but more inclined to art, things like theater, ballet, choir, etc.

*I can't decide if Haruhime and Kokushibo would be separated. But let's say yes because I enjoy an intimidating woman who is soft on her family(same with Koku).

*Kokushibo's eldest son takes martial arts, debate classes, history, mathematics and probably knows how to play at least one instrument.

*as I said, Koku doesn't usually talk about his kids to many people, but his desk probably has several hidden photos of his kids (as children or at certain important events, he's that kind of dad).

*Koku is the overprotective father, Haruhime is the loving but strict mother.

*Muzan has probably tried to infiltrate his son or Mitsuki into Kimetsu Academy, but Haruhime (and lowkey Koku) WILL DIE before their children set foot in a public school.

*(what none of them know is that Kaigaku already put his son in school several times, just because).

*Haruhime definitely doesn't like Kaigaku, Mitsuki tolerates him. Kaigaku is afraid of Haruhime.

*Jigoro adores Son, thinks he's a good influence and probably threatens Kaigaku not to do anything to the poor boy🤣Zenitsu can't believe Son is so nice and at the same time is Kaigaku's friend ("blink if he's holding you against your will")

*Yoriichi probably knows about his nephews and they know about him. but they try to see each other without Koku being there (since he gets angry with their mere presence). They think it's funny.

Overall, just a weird family with communication problems, but who love each other.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[venusintheblindspots-blog]

Viserys Targaryen Rant Part 2

Rhaenyra, the King’s Heir

After episode eight of House of the Dragon aired, there were a lot of people cheering on Viserys for his support of Rhaenyra’s claim.

I will admit, the scene was heartwarming to me at first,- a frail old man on the brink of death, getting up solely to defend his daughter in front of a court that may have had grievances with her being a female-heir. That kind of fatherly support, means a lot in a misogynistic society like Westeros. But, what does that moment of support truly mean for a man that had not performed his duties as a father?

Let us refer back to episode one. This scene in particular:

Aemma expresses to Viserys that she does not wish to have another pregnancy after the birth of the child she’s pregnant with.

According to Fire and Blood, Viserys and Aemma married when she was eleven years old. Their marriage was not consummated until two years later, when Aemma had flowered. Aemma in both Fire and Blood and House of the Dragon would go on to suffer multiple miscarriages, that some of Maesters suspected were due to her being bed too young.

Refocusing on the scene above, Aemma tells Viserys that Rhaenyra suspects that the unborn child might be a girl. Viserys is insistent that it is a boy.

In episode one, Rhaenyra was fifteen years old. If she were male, Viserys would have started preparing her as his heir,- taking her to council meetings, send her as a messenger, etc. But he doesn’t, because he wanted a male heir. He spent almost two decades brutalizing his wife and ultimately killing her for a son. He spent almost two decades neglecting his daughter and putting her aside because he wanted a son.

Aegon, Second of his Name

In the third episode of House of the Dragon, we meet Aegon, the first child between Alicent and Viserys.

For a majority of the episode, Aegon is being celebrated as it’s his name day, and he’s the king’s first born son. The King now having son would usually signal a change in succession, since for most of Westeros, sons inherit over daughters. However, by the end of the episode, Viserys’ position does not change: Rhaenyra is his rightful heir.

So what happens to Aegon, the long-awaited son?

Let’s look at some word from the screenwriter, Ryan Condal:

"Aegon is a great example of neglect and indulgence," Condal says. "This is the medieval version of the millionaire's prodigal son. His mother was 15, and his father never paid any attention to him. His father deeply, deeply loved Aemma and Rhaenyra and was [only] having [more] kids to carry on the line. He really didn't want Aegon — he wanted Baelon, the son that killed his first wife."

When we first meet Aegon he was being celebrated. After hoping for a boy for years, Viserys finally got a male heir.

We don’t get any scenes of his early childhood but we see Aegon again when he’s a teenager. He’s disinterested in most things, he’s blunt, he teases, he masturbates by the window sill, but most of all, he’s disinterested and lackadaisical.

After another time skip, we see Aegon again. He’s still disinterested in most things, he drinks, he’s a rapist, and is overall not really a good person.

Within the fandom, most of the blame for the way Aegon has turned out has been directed to Alicent.

Now, Alicent being a child-bride does not excuse all of her actions, but it does explain a lot of them.

In scene where Alicent speaks with Dyana, I interpreted her reaction as one filled with shame, frustration and disappointment. All of the traits I used to describe Aegon, can be applied to Viserys. Aegon is his father’s mirror and Alicent is the only one who is trying to break it. Immediately after meeting with Dyana, she confronts Aegon, and disowns him(well,not really). Were her methods rash? Yes, it was rash and abusive, but who else was checking him? Where was Viserys during his formative years to correct this behavior?

I do not condone any of his actions, but I grieve the person Aegon could’ve been if Viserys had not been his father.

Aemond, the Kinslayer

I’d reckon that Aemond’s birth wasn’t quite the spectacle that Aegon’s was, he’s the second son, who inherits nothing.

When we first meet Aemond, he’s miserable. He has a very low self esteem mostly due to all of his peers having dragon, while he doesn’t. His father, Viserys was the last mount of Balerion, the Black Dread. Balerion represents the strength and history of House Targaryen in Westeros. He’s the last dragon to have come from Old Valyria, and his first rider was the man who united Westeros under one crown, Aegon the Conqueror. Viserys took Balerion on one ride, and the old dragon died shortly after. He spent all of his rule as a Targaryen king without a dragon. We get no indication that he had negative feelings about not being a dragon rider, in fact, he finds power in the dreams and prophecies of Targaryens and Old Valyria, than the man power of dragons. Had he been around to salvage any feelings of unworthiness Aemond felt when his egg didn’t hatch, or when the riderless dragons in the dragon pit rejected him, Aemond would’ve been less resentful about not having one.

So in this scene here, where he claims Vhagar, and rides her for the first time, it’s a moment of legitimacy for him. He’s a Targaryen, with a dragon. He fits in with his siblings and his nephews, finally.

His claiming of Vhagar came with a price, his eye. I’m not going to delve into the mishap that took place between him, the Dragon twins and the Strong boys, because they were children. Baela and Rhaena had all right to be angry about Aemond claiming Vhagar, Luke had all right to defend his brother, Aemond had all right to react to their insults. Was he a bit insensitive ? Yes, but he’s a kid. They’re all children. They do not have the same awareness and consideration adults should have.

The aftermath of that scene is a confrontation between Rhaenyra and Alicent.

There has been a lot of discourse about this scene in particular, but Emma D’arcy and Olivia Cooke’s is the one I resonate with the most :

ED: It’s such an interesting scene, right? My sympathy is fully with Alicent. On the page I was like, Well, she’s fucking right.

OC: Someone’s lost an eye.

ED: Someone’s lost an eye! I’m so amazed every time Paddy basically tells you to let it go. Simultaneously, Rhaenyra is playing quite a basic game: Lie hard, do not back down, and weaponize this word “treason.”

OC: Alicent’s being gaslit massively and she fucking explodes. In friendships or relationships, when it gets to the point where you feel you’re going mad, there’s no route out other than complete volcanic annihilation.

ED: There is something resentfully delicious in it for Rhaenyra, in that she so rarely gets definitively the backing of her father. Early on, she loses both her best friend and her father because they get married. These moments where she gets publicly chosen, and chosen instead of you — there’s a really violent quality of vengeance for her.

No Alicent should not have asked for a five year old’s eye. But her son, has just lost one. And his father, is more focused on the fact that his grandchildren were called bastards. Now I’m not discounting the fact that Westeros discriminates against bastards, but that could have been addressed afterwards. Viserys spent the entire scene promising his court that they’d lose a tongue for even uttering a word about his grandsons, while his son is sitting in a chair with his eye in front him on a plate. Aemond now has to learn how to maneuver around with one of his five senses damaged. (Honestly, I think a few scenes with Aemond struggling a bit with this would’ve been great).

If Viserys had just acknowledged Aemond’s detriment in that scene, maybe give him some reassurance, comfort, literally anything, he wouldn’t have remained vengeful years after the incident.

Helaena, the Dragon Dreamer

The parenting of Helaena is the best representation of Viserys and Alicent’s dynamics with their kids,- Alicent struggling to connect with her child, while Viserys the parent who would’ve had a better shot at connection is nowhere to be found.

Helaena has correctly predicted several events in House of the Dragon so far, the loss of Aemond’s eye being the price of his dragon, Meleys bursting from beneath the dragon pit, and the Dance of the Dragons. The thing is, no one in universe is paying her any mind. The weight of prophecies in ASOIAF is a topic that George likes to explore, and he’s given us a few tragic characters like Rhaegar, who met their doom by interpreting a prophecy ‘incorrectly’.

Helaena is a dragon dreamer. She’s also a dragon rider, but we have no scenes with her on Dreamfyre. She represents the more mystical part of House Targaryen, as she possesses the power that prevented them from the Doom. Yet her father, who is a deeply interested in these aspects of being Targaryen, doesn’t speak to her about these things.

If Viserys had made an attempt to understand or simply bond with his daughter, none of the atrocities his family faced would have happened the way it did.

My sympathy for Team Green stems from the fact that literally every single one of them would’ve been way better people if not for Viserys.

[kidstemplatte]

the greatest

summary: cardinal copia becomes a father.

warnings: brief mention of suicide || wc: 8.3k

notes: reader is terzo's wife. i recommend checking out my other works to learn more about the (now expanding) family! message at the end as per usual, enjoy <3

“You’d be a good Papa.”

His niece’s kind words still echoed in his mind, even after nearly five years.

The Cardinal had wanted to become a father for quite some time now but wasn’t sure if he was fit for the job. He was a bit of a child, which could be considered a pro or a con; the upside being he was fun and pure-hearted, the downside that he could be a tad chaotic. 

When Copia was summoned to Sister Imperator’s office, he assumed it was because he had forgotten to turn off the stove again or left the sink running, habits from his youth he was yet to abandon even as a middle-aged man. Bracing himself for another lecture, the Cardinal took a deep breath in and out before knocking three times on the sturdy oak door.

“Come in.” A hoarse voice rang from within the room.

Copia gently pushed the door open and entered the lavish office. Sister Imperator’s office couldn’t differ anymore from the Cardinal’s, sporting a classy yet minimalistic aesthetic decked in shades of brown and black. Meanwhile, Copia’s office had “Copia” written all over it in big cartoonish block letters, thanks to the dozens of figurines and comic books lining the shelves, as well as other dorky memorabilia. Sister Imperator sat behind her meticulously organized desk, her clasped hands resting on the polished wood.

“Hello, Sister.” Copia greeted the woman formally, bowing his head as he took a seat in the plush chair across from hers.

“Cardinal.” She returned the greeting with a brief nod, before instantly diving into her reason for his summoning. “Do you recall, a few years back, when a Sister of the Austrian chapter took her own life?” she inquired.

Of course he did, how could he not? It was a tragic day, each chapter holding its own memorial ceremony for the young woman.

“Oh. Sì, I do.” Copia answered, saddened at the remembrance of the event. 

“Well, she had a son additionally, who had an absent father.” 

Been there. 

“They have done their best to take care of the boy since he was just a newborn- he’s resided in the church his whole life- but as he’s gotten older, they’ve decided it’s simply not fit for him to grow up without a permanent system of support.” She explained.

Copia suddenly became much more alert, his eyes widening and posture straightening. “You mean… a family?” 

“C, if you’re interested…”

Sister Imperator noticed a longing in her son’s eyes that she had not seen in a long time- not since he was but a child brimming with curiosity, a subtle glow that surfaced only when he wanted something deeply, most of the time, an answer- but this time- it was more than curiosity, it was yearning. “Now would be the time.”

“Yes.” The Cardinal blurted out. “Yes.”

“The adoption process is not easy- let alone raising a child. This is a massive responsibility. Are you sure you can handle this on top of a Cardinal’s duties?” She cautioned him.

“Yes, Mother.” He reiterated.

She froze.

“I want this more than anything.” He pleaded.

“I will notify them of your consideration.” She nodded.

“Thank you. Thank you so much. Grazie. Grazie.” The Cardinal repeated like a mantra, placing his hands together as he bowed his head in gratitude. 

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Gently shutting the door to your son’s room, you walked down the hall and into the living space, pleasantly surprised to see your brother-in-law sitting in a lounge chair across from the couch. “Hi, Copia! What a nice surprise.” You greeted him with a smile. “Sorry, I just put Vinnie to bed. Am I allowed to join, or is this a brother talk?” 

“Please, join us.” Copia gestured. “Is Violetta here?” he asked. 

“Oh, she’s in her room. She’s not feeling very well tonight.”

“Oh, I am sorry to hear that, let her know I said hello.” Copia responded.

“Will do. So, what is going on?” Terzo asked, reaching to the coffee table in front of him and pouring his brother a glass of wine.

Copia took a deep breath in and began. “Sister Imperator called me into her office today and gave me some news.”

“News that..?”

You elbowed Terzo in response to his impatience. “Let the man speak!”

“Eh, do you remember when a woman of the Austrian chapter, um… She took her own life?”

“Johanna?” You asked.

“You knew her?”

“Not too personally, but yes. I met her years back when I studied briefly in Innsbruck. She was a lovely woman.” You recalled, sadness beginning to tug at your heart. “Sorry, continue.” You dismissed yourself, knowing if you continued, there would surely be a few tears. 

“Oh, no, do not apologize. Please, continue, if you are comfortable.”

“Okay.” you sniffled, laughing nervously. “There’s not much else, it’s just- it was sad. My bad, go on.”

Your husband placed a loving hand over yours, a subtle way he reminded you that you were safe with him.

Copia nodded. “Well, she had a son, who has lived in the church his whole life. But, um, they are considering finding him a more traditional… family.” He explained.

“Here?” Terzo inquired.

“Si, ah… with me.”

“You are adopting him?” 

“If everything goes according to plan, yes.” He replied slightly hesitantly.

“You’re gonna be a dad, Copia!” You nearly cried, your face lighting up with joy.

He laughed, a smile grazing his face at the idea. “Ah, well, we don’t know for sure yet. The process is a bit difficult. I fear it won’t work out.”

“Copia, you can’t mourn the loss of something that’s just beginning!” You encouraged him.

“Do you think Sister Imperator would ever propose such a thing to someone she didn’t trust could do it?” pointed out Terzo.

“That is a good point,” Copia replied. “I just… even if it works out… what if I am not… good?” He rambled anxiously.

“Not good? Our kids can’t get enough of you.” Terzo reassured his brother.

The Cardinal smiled at the thought of his niece and nephew.

“So what do you know about him?” You asked eagerly.

“Well, ah, that’s actually all I know… And that he’s four years old.”

“Oh my gosh! He’s the same age as Vinnie! It was meant to be!” You gushed, excitedly waving your hands. “Copia. I think it’s gonna happen. I really, really do.”

“Thank you, Y/N.” He expressed his gratitude with a heartfelt smile.

“Mommy?” You heard a voice squeak in the distance.

Turning around in your spot on the couch, a small figure stood down the hallway.

“Hi, Vinnie. What’s wrong?” You asked, a gentle tone adorning your voice. “Excuse me, I’ll be back.” You told your brother-in-law and husband as you rose to your son’s aid.

“Copia.” Terzo addressed his brother, his voice suddenly earnest.

“Yes?”

“When have I ever lied to you?”

Pondering the question and recalling no particular incident, he shrugged.

“Exactly. You can do this,” stated Terzo, his words few yet meaningful, clearly touching the heart of his beloved half-brother.

“Thank you, Terzo.”

Terzo smiled, his eyes conveying a depth of sincerity. “I mean it, fratello.”

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

The Cardinal closed the door to his small abode and let out a hefty sigh. His expression softened a little as he caught sight of the large cage sitting on a table against the wall, inside containing two furry friends. Inside the enclosure stood a gray rat, once brown, perched on his hind feet and clutching onto the metal bars, eagerly waiting for his Papa’s return. 

“Ciao, Bean.” Copia cooed, opening the drawer below his cage and opening their bag of food. “I’m guessing your brother is…” Copia scanned his eyes around the cage, his suspicions confirmed once he noticed Pesto’s nose peeking out from a small wooden hideout. “Ah, did I wake you up, my Bestie Pestie? I apologize. Buon appetito, little ones.” He said, opening their cage and pouring their food as the little rodents scurried to their bowls.

That night, the Cardinal felt inclined to do something he hadn’t done in a long time. 

Overwhelmed with an immense sense of desperation, Copia prayed on his own in the solitude of his room. He knelt beside his bed, knees on the hardwood floor as he placed his hands together and shut his eyes tight, a soft sigh escaping his lips before he began his prayer.

“Tua empietà, so che è passato un po' di tempo. perdonami, ti prego, ma devo chiederti una cosa. per favore, satana, concedimi il dono della paternità, per favore. Farò qualsiasi cosa, viaggerò all'inferno e ritorno, per trasformare questo sogno in realtà. Prego che il ragazzo stia bene e al sicuro e trovi la sua nuova casa tra le mura del clero.”

And just as Copia was lying in bed, about to doze off, he opened his heavy eyes; and through the darkness of the room caught sight of a poster featuring a cat, reading “Hang in there, baby!”, a silly yet needed reminder for Copia to persevere.

He needed this. More than he had ever needed anything in his entire life. 

Little did he know, the boy needed him just as much.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Throughout the next few months, the adoption process was proven to be just as lengthy and overwhelming as it was described as, the heightened levels of anxiety meaning Copia frequently had trouble sleeping, finding himself spending late nights in the Clergy’s grand library. Basking in the comfort of a large plush chair a few feet from the crackling fireplace, Copia was nose-deep in a book entitled “Raising Your Children With Satan.” 

“Can’t sleep?” A voice said just a few feet from where the Cardinal sat in the plush armchair. Looking up, Copia was faced with his eldest brother, Primo.

“Primo! What are you-”

“I had a feeling you might be here.” The man reckoned. “I understand these are stressful times, but you need to get some rest, for Satan’s sake! You look exhausted!”

“Ay, but that’s why I can’t sleep! I just toss and turn in bed for hours and hours until I give up.” He complained, punctuating his sentence with a sigh.

“You know I have all sorts of remedies for that. Why did you not ask me?”

“I… I don’t know. I guess I felt like I was already asking too much of people.” The Cardinal admitted, sighing and setting his book down on the table beside him.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think you’ve asked a single thing of me throughout this whole process.”

Copia opened his mouth to respond, but no retaliations were heard as he realized that Primo was, in fact, correct. As usual. “I suppose… that is true.”

“Indeed it is. But I want to let you know you can always ask anything of me, Copia. I am not a father, but you could say I’ve done my fair share of parenting.” He chuckled. “And beyond that, I’m your brother, I’m here for you no matter what the issue is. Even if I cannot relate fully.” He comforted Copia, reaching across and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you. I’m just… very scared.” The Cardinal admitted.

“Why is that?” questioned Primo.

“I have no idea what I’m doing. Parenting. I just… I have- no idea.”

Parenting?

Just outside the walls of the library, Violetta, unable to fall asleep, stood with her ear pressed against the door, her mouth agape as she began to piece together the fragments of the conversation. Her uncle, Copia, had been notably distant lately, and now, standing on the precipice of this revelation, she couldn't help but wonder if this- parenting- was the reason. Primo's laughter, warm and familiar, seeped through the walls, filling the air with a sense of camaraderie. 

"Nobody does, fratello. Do you know how scared Terzo was? He was at my door practically every other night, rambling to me because he was too concerned he would further stress (Y/N) with all his worries."

Violetta's heart fluttered with a mix of emotions. Thrilled by the news that her beloved uncle was going to be a father, she couldn't shake the twinge of hurt that accompanied the realization that she hadn't been enlightened of this information. Her young mind grappled with conflicting sentiments—elation for the impending addition to the family, yet a pang of longing for the connection she wished she had shared with Copia. As the weight of the revelation settled, tears began to well up in her eyes, her heart aching while she turned around and silently made her way back to her room.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

6 months had passed since Sister Imperator gave her son the news: There was a little boy in Innsbruck, Austria, who needed a permanent system of support. Or, in normal people terms, a family. And there Copia sat in the very same chair he did on that first day, anxiously leaning forward while Sister Imperator gave him an even better piece of news: he had found one.

“It’s official.” 

It was like time froze; the months of meetings and paperwork, and beyond that, years of longing, had all led up to this pivotal moment.

“I- we- it’s been finalized?” Copia exclaimed. “Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh.” 

Sister Imperator suddenly felt a surge in her heart, upon witnessing her son’s ecstatic reaction.

“Congratulations, Copia. You’re a father.”

Thank Satan Copia always kept a handkerchief in his pocket. 

“…C?”

“I know I was not a perfect mother. And, I…” She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “I want to do better this time around as a grandmother. And a mother. You are my family, and I’ve been quiet about that. It is the biggest regret I’ve ever had. But you, Copia, are not a secret. You are my son.” She confessed, reaching across the desk to place her hand over Copia’s. “And I am proud of you.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

“I love you, Copia.”

“I love you too.”

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Copia spent the next few weeks frantically preparing for the arrival of the new family member. His Cardinal’s suite he had resided in for years was now empty, as he was moving into a larger suite with an extra bedroom and bathroom. The man was beyond stressed- He didn’t know how to properly decorate a room for a child, let alone assemble the furniture. Copia was quite satisfied with the simple layout of his old room, with strikingly lavish decor consisting of a pull-out bed, lava lamp, and a cat poster that read, “Hang in there, Baby!” Yeah, he was definitely taking that. Unsure at first who to ask for help, the Cardinal realized the person best suited for the job was his dear sister-in-law.

“This is such a nice space!” You gawked, following him into the room that would soon belong to the young boy. “And it has such a nice view!” Walking to the window, you were astonished to see the room was just in view of the Clergy’s beautiful garden and somber forest behind it. “Okay, so I think since it’s a twin bed, it should go against this wall,” you suggested. "There’s gonna still be some space after assembling this stuff,” you gestured to the boxes lying against the wall, “but maybe we should leave some space so he can pick what he wants.”

“Okie dokie. Sounds good. Shall we get to work?” Copia prompted.

Your attempt to build the bed was short-lived, you and your brother-in-law soon cackling loudly at your evident lack of skills.

“Damn you, IKEA,” Copia chuckled, squinting at the fine print on the instruction manual.

“What’s going on in here?” You heard a familiar voice echo through the bare room, your husband walking inside and noticing you two were having some trouble with the task at hand.

“We’re just, ah... struggling a bit with this furniture.” Copia laughed, gesturing to the various pieces in front of him.

“I know just the ghoul who can assist,” Terzo replied.

“Oh, it’s fine, we can figure it out-”

“Nonsense! Omega!” Terzo clapped his hands, to which the ghoul quite literally appeared out of thin air. “Hello, Omega!” chimed Terzo, who loved nothing more than to torment the poor man.

“Hello, Papa. Copia. Y/N.” Omega greeted you.

“Would you be a dear and assemble this furniture for my dear brother?”

“It- it has instruc-“

“Yes, and so do you, silly ghoul!” Terzo said, reaching to pat the tall man on the back and holding his hand out towards the unassembled bedframe.

Omega sighed and chuckled, “Yes, Papa.”

“Thank you, Omega.” 

Suddenly, Terzo crept behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, your eyes widening in fear of his next words, though your face heated up at his contact. Your husband, though you loved him dearly, often had little-to-no filter regarding intimate matters, and his sudden affection warned you he was about to let something slip. “It feels like just yesterday we were making Omega set up the nursery…” He reminisced.

“Terzo, ‘we’ is you. I didn’t make him do anything.” You laughed.

“You know, maybe we’ll do the next one ourselves.” he suggested wickedly, completely ignoring the innocent bystanders in the room.

“The next one? No, sir.” You swatted his wandering hand.

“I’m going to put this drill through my ears.” You heard Omega mumble in the corner.

“So, Copia! Three weeks! That’s so soon!” You exclaimed. "We're gonna tell the kids tomorrow." You announced, grinning at the thought of their reactions.

"Oh boy. I wonder how they will react."

"They will be beyond thrilled." Terzo reassured Copia.

Through the window, the sky was fading into a hazy orange. “Papa, don’t you have a meeting soon?” Omega asked his boss, who was known for being just a tad forgetful.

“I appreciate your help, dear Omega, but the meeting is on Thursday.” He said assuredly, a satisfied smile on his face.

“Today is Thursday.”

“What- it is?” Terzo exclaimed, checking his watch, his eyes nearly popping out of his skull as he realized he had a mere minute to make it to his office. “Shit!” Terzo began dashing out of the room, then spun around on his heels as he realized he had forgotten something very important. Leaning towards you, your husband gave you your ritual-esque goodbye kiss, pecking you on the cheek before turning around once again and bolting off.

“If he can do it, so can you.” You laughed with your brother-in-law, beginning to assist Omega with his newly-assigned task.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Violetta couldn’t sleep. She figured there might be someone else who couldn’t either, someone she hadn’t spoken to in a while. Carefully tiptoeing through the dark hall and down the stairs, she made her way to the library with deliberate caution. Entering the library, she caught sight of Copia sitting in a cozy armchair, nose deep in a book, completely oblivious of her presence, as he had seemingly been for the past few months. His eyes darted up as he caught sight of his 10-year-old niece in her pajamas, standing by the entrance with her arms crossed. 

“Violetta!” He exclaimed, frantically shutting the book and setting it aside. “What are you doing up so late?” 

“I dunno. Sometimes I walk around at night when I can’t sleep. But, uh, I also thought you might be here.” His niece answered anxiously.

“Eh- Why do you think that?”

She shrugged, an awkward silence plaguing the room before Violetta broke the ice. “Is that a parenting book?” She asked, pointing to the book Copia had tossed aside.

“Uh…”  Clearly, it was a parenting book. It had the word “PARENTING” engraved on the spine in shiny gold lettering- there was no way for him to play it off. “Yes.” 

“Why are you reading a parenting book?” Before her uncle could respond, she immediately regretted asking, feeling uneasy about the question. It wasn't a lie, per se, but it felt dishonest considering she was well aware of the reason. “Actually… I’m sorry. I know why.” She confessed, looking at the ground, a sense of guilt flooding her heart.

Copia was dumbfounded. How did she find out? It’s not that he was upset she knew, he just didn’t understand how that came to be- he was positive Terzo didn’t tell her, nor the other brothers. Had he let something slip?

“How did you find out?” Copia asked.

“I… I heard a conversation you and Primo had in here. I’m sorry I listened. I didn’t tell anyone. I promise.” she confessed, her voice becoming shaky as her eyes remained glued to the ground. 

“Oh, Violetta, it’s okay.”

“…Okay.” She said, still feeling guilty.

“I'm sorry Violetta, you do not have to cry, it’s okay. I promise, it is. I didn’t want to keep anything secret from you, I was just scared that if things did not go as planned, it would disappoint you.” He reassured her, his voice gentle and caring.

“I didn’t disappoint you, right?” Violetta sniffled, wiping tears from her eyes as she looked him in the eyes once again.

“No, no, no- I would have done the same thing. In fact, I’m very impressed and honored that you kept it a secret. That is not easy.” He lovingly comforted her.

Violetta smiled. “Thanks.”

“I'm sorry I have not spent much time with you recently... I have been so busy. But he is almost here, after all this time.”

“He?”

“Ay, I really can’t keep my mouth shut, can I?” he laughed. “Well, I might as well tell you more since I’ve already begun…” he figured, patting the arm of the seat next to him.

Violetta smiled, wiping the tears from her eyes as she took a seat beside him. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too, my dear Violetta.” 

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Though Violetta unconventionally discovered her uncle’s secret, her brother’s reaction was a drastically different experience. You and Terzo called your son into the living room, to which he bolted in and looked up at you with his sparkling mismatched eyes. 

“Vinnie, do you want to hear something very exciting?” Terzo cheerfully asked his son, picking him up and placing him into his lap as he bounced his leg up and down, often one of the few ways to keep him from moving around on his own.

“Yes! Please! Please!” Vinnie begged, giggling.

“You have a cousin that’s going to be here very soon!” Terzo informed him.

“What?!” Vinnie gawked.

“Yes! Your Uncle Copi is going to adopt a boy who’s exactly your age!” You exclaimed, sitting beside them on the couch.

“Yay!!! What’s adopt?” Vinnie tilted his head.

“You know Violetta’s good friend Carmen?” You asked him.

“Yeah!” 

“Do you remember her two mommies?” 

“Yeah!”

“They adopted Carmen. She was born somewhere else but then she became their baby!” You continued.

“Oh, okay,” Vinnie responded. 

“And Uncle Copi is adopting a son from Austria!” You explained enthusiastically.

“With the koalas?”

Terzo chuckled. “You’re very close, Vinnie. That’s Australia.” He said, ruffling his son's hair.

“Oh, I get it. He’s in…”

“Austria.” You assisted him.

“He’s in Austria now and he’s gonna be here! And now Uncle Copia is going to be his Papa.” Vinnie processed.

“Sì!”

“Okay. Yay! When do I get to meet my new cousin?” Your son asked eagerly.

“Two weeks.” You replied.

“Two whole weeks?” Vinnie repeated as you had just informed him he would have to wait a millennium. “I thought you said soon!”

“I know, we’re all very excited.” Terzo added, amused by his son’s enthusiasm.

“I’m so excited! Yay, cousin!” The little boy started kicking his feet, a telltale sign that he needed to let some energy out. Vinnie was a little fireball, constantly moving. While Violetta grew up satisfied with playing in the comfort of her room, her brother was like a windup toy, exhibiting bursts of energy before inevitably crashing and needing to rest. “Can I go outside?” He asked, pointing at the door.

You and Terzo were familiar with Vinnie’s harmless need to release his energy and sought to embrace it rather than suppress it. Terzo chuckled, gently placing his son on the ground, walking over to the door and opening it. Vinnie wasted no time, darting through the doorway at lightning speed while you and Terzo laughed.

“He’s so adorable.” You observed your son, zooming around in circles around the grass like a little Tasmanian devil.

“I hope he never grows out of his spark.” Terzo chuckled.

“He won’t. Not as long as you’re his Papa.”

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Soon, the long-awaited day arrived. Copia and Sister Imperator stood in anticipation by the doors of the entrance. Though he was incredibly fearful, he had been waiting for this day his entire life, he put on a brave face. He couldn’t let his nerves show. Not now. Who was he to be afraid when the poor boy was certainly terrified and confused beyond measure? It was Copia’s responsibility to ensure the boy felt safe and welcome in the Clergy; he couldn’t do that if he himself was displaying unease. The solemn moment was interrupted by a knock on the door, making Copia jolt in shock. His mother, noticing his panic, placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and gave him a soft yet reassuring smile.

“In,” she gently instructed, the two breathing in, a ritual they often did when Copia was younger and feeling anxious, “And out.”

Copia exhaled his worries, letting them disappear into the air, smiling at his mother before opening the door and being faced with a social worker and a little boy. He had blonde hair, dusty freckles, and a pair of glimmering blue eyes, wearing a pair of blue headphones of sorts around his neck. His eyes spastically darted around, to the ground, to the door, to the sky, to the walls of the church, and for a brief moment, Copia. The poor boy was visibly petrified, having been through a lot of travel and confusion that was surely enough to rattle his young mind, gripping the straps of his backpack tightly.

“Hello, Augustus.” Copia greeted the boy. We’re very happy to have you here.”

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

The walk to the suite was silent, minus the sound of echoing footsteps in the grand hallway. “How are you, Augustus?” He broke the silence. 

The little boy held out a thumbs up. Copia decided to continue speaking, not necessarily looking for a response, but to lighten the air.

“I know you are from Austria. I myself have never been, but I want to go. Maybe one day you can take me. But first you'll have to get your pilot's license. That was a dream I once had: to be a pilot. But, alas, I am afraid of heights. And look! We are here!” he announced, gesturing to the door of their suite.

After a small tour of the new space, Copia finally led Augustus to his bedroom. “I apologize, it’s a little boring right now, but we will fix it up in no time. However you like.” He said, opening the door for Augustus. The room was fairly empty minus the essentials: a bed, dresser, nightstand, rug. Despite the room’s humble appearance, Augustus’s eyes lit up enlivened at the idea of having his own space. “You can either stay here, or we can look around more. Up to you.”

Augustus paused to think for a moment, then pointed to the door.

“Okie dokie, we can explore. Do you want to see the library?” Copia inquired.

His eyes lit up.

“Library?”

Yes! A word! Thank you, Satan! A choir of angels sang in Copia’s head as he celebrated this small yet mighty victory.

“Yes, we have a rather nice library! Would you like to go?” He questioned.

“Yes!” Augustus chirped.

Copia and Augustus exited the bedroom, walking through the living space and to the front door.

“Are you ready to go?” Copia asked.

Augustus seemed conflicted, his gaze drifting off to somewhere else in the room. “Is… is something-“ Copia, lost on what to do, awkwardly looked aside, until a bright blue object caught his eye- something he must have set aside during their tour. “Eh… Oh. You want your headphones?” He asked.

Augustus nodded, a small smile forming on his face. Copia walked to the counter and picked up the headphones, approaching Augustus once again. Crouching down to be at eye level with the little boy, he extended the headphones toward him. “Here you go, good sir!”

Augustus smiled appreciatively and took them into his hands.

“Where we are about to go is very quiet. But, of course, you can still wear them if you’d like.” the Cardinal consoled gently.

“Okay. Just in case.” Augustus replied, placing them around his neck.

“Just in case.” Copia reiterated. “Ready?”

“Okie dokie.” Augustus said, holding out a thumbs up.

Copia and Augustus walked through the halls of the abbey as the boy eyed his surroundings curiously, counting each brick on the wall as they passed through.

"This is our library," Copia declared as they entered the large doors, a sense of pride evident in his voice. Though the library was nearly ancient, he had played a large part in its organization. Augustus’s eyes twinkled with wonder as he stared in awe at the utopia surrounding him, lined wall-to-wall with books of all kinds.

“Very cool, right?”

Augusted smiled wide and nodded, looking up to meet eyes with Copia, which made his heart warm.

“Do you have a favorite book?” Copia asked Augustus.

“The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe.” he answered, nearly instantly.

Copia’s jaw dropped. One, because clearly this kid was a genius, two, because that was a book he held dear to his heart, and three, because that was the longest phrase he had uttered the whole day.

“Wow, that’s a big kid book. You must be a very smart boy. I happen to love that book, though I certainly wasn’t reading it at your age. Have you read the others?” he asked.

He tilted his head, not fully understanding Copia’s question.

“The story continues in other books.” He explained. 

“Really?” He asked, his eyes widening in excitement.

“Yes, it’s a series. And whaddya know…” Copia trailed his finger across the vast collection of books as he strolled along the shelves, until-

“They’re all right here!” exclaimed Copia, who had led them both to the fiction section of the library. 

Augustus’s head nearly exploded at this newly found information, a large smile spreading across his face.

“And there are movies.” Copia informed him.

The boy’s jaw dropped. “Movies?”

Oh, this was gonna be great.

In the middle of their lighthearted conversation appeared Secondo, in the mood for some refined literature. His facial expression molded into a soft smile as he observed Copia and the young boy discussing the classic novel.

Copia caught sight of his older brother in the corner of his eye. "Oh! Hello there!" He greeted his brother as he made his way towards them. "Augustus, this is your Uncle Secondo."

"Hello to you, Augustus. I'm Secondo. It is very nice to meet you.” Secondo said warmly, reaching out his much larger hand and shaking the boy's. “Nice, strong handshake. Good for you.” Secondo praised the boy with a smile. “And what is that book you are holding?”

Augustus, feeling shy, held up the book and pointed at the title engraved on the spine. 

“Wow, that’s a grown up book! It looks like we have a distinguished gentleman on our hands. Have you met your other zios yet?”

“Not quite yet. But I was planning on taking him to meet his cousins after he sees the garden.” Copia answered for Augustus, still a tad nervous.

“How fun! Well, I won’t bother you two any longer. Very nice to meet you, Augustus. I look forward to seeing you again soon.” He said with a warm smile, waving and exiting the room.

“I like him.” Augustus commented.

“Secondo is great. Looks like this was a successful trip!” Copia exclaimed. 

“Are we going to the garden?” Augustus asked, placing the book in his backpack.

“Only if you want to.” Copia replied.

Augustus nodded.

“Okie dokie, off we go!”

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Copia and Augustus paced outside in the grass, Augustus’s smile growing wider and wider as the two approached the Clergy's lavish garden.

“Do you like the outdoors?” Copia asked Augustus.

“Yes.” Augustus answered. “This is so cool!” He exclaimed, in awe of the wonderland in front of him, longing to get lost in its winding path. 

Among the vibrant colors of the flowers, an older man quietly tended to the garden, crouching in front of a bed of hydrangeas, an aura of wisdom and insight radiating from him. Hearing footsteps nearing on the gravel, he turned his head towards Copia and Augustus, giving them a soft wave. 

“Why hello, there. Very nice to meet you, you must be Augustus.” He spoke softly but warmly.

The boy nodded sheepishly, staring at the flowers in Primo’s hands.

“Augustus. That’s a good name. Better than good. Do you know what it means?”

Augustus looked up to meet Primo’s gaze, and shook his head.

“Great.” Primo revealed.

“Oh. Really?” Augustus asked.

“Indeed.” He nodded. “Do you have a favorite flower?” Primo stood up, Copia and Augustus beginning to follow him along the edge of the the flowing stream.

Augustus looked around the garden for a moment, contemplating which of the many flowers he preferred. “I like the sunflowers.” answered Augustus, pointing to the yellow flowers just a few feet away.

“So do I. They are a classic choice.” Primo agreed. “Sometimes I find myself in here not just to expand the garden, but to find peace in its stillness. It is very quiet out here, but there are many noises to be noticed. The sounds of the stream, birds chirping, sometimes pesky animals that want a snack.” He conversed.

Augustus gasped, his love of animals evident in his jovial reaction. “What kind of animals?” 

“Squirrels most often, but rabbits as well. You know who also likes animals?” Primo asked.

“Who?”

Primo pointed at Copia, who smiled fondly.

“I do, that is true.”

“Maybe one day you two will have a little pet.” Primo winked as Augustus looked up at Copia, his hands fidgeting with excitement.

The three continued their wholesome exchange as Primo taught Augustus all about the flowers and plants, curiosity brimming in his eyes. Copia observed Augustus’s interactions with his uncle, admiring the boy’s gentle and inquisitive nature that ignited a sense of youthfulness in his heart.

“Lovely to meet you, Augustus. You are what some would call an old soul. Maybe even wiser than me, even at my age.” Primo chuckled.

“Nice to meet you.” Augustus responded, finding comfort in Primo’s serenity and knowledge.

“Ay, the sun is already setting…” Primo remarked, the garden’s vibrant colors beginning to dull down as the sun prepared itself to rest.

“Ready to go inside and, if you’re ready, meet your cousins?” Copia asked Augustus, to which he nodded, holding out a thumbs up.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

As the Cardinal raised his hand to knock at the door of the suite you and Terzo shared, Augustus suddenly felt a surge of uncertainty, and without thinking, grabbed Copia’s hand.

Copia, shocked by the sudden contact, looked down at Augustus with concern in his eyes. 

“You okay?” He checked in on the boy.

Augustus nodded. “Nervous.”

“We don’t have to go inside if you don’t want to.”

“I do.” Augustus decided.

“Okay. We can take a deep breath and go inside. Okie dokie?” He comforted Augustus.

“Okie dokie.” Augustus repeated.

“In,”

The two of them inhaled in unison.

“And out.”

Phew.

“Ready?” Copia asked Augustus.

“Mhm.”

Copia stood up and knocked three times on the door of the large Papal suite, which nearly instantly swung open. In front of them stood a man with jet black hair in a black suit, face covered in white and black paint.  

Augustus tapped Copia on the shoulder, waving his hand for him to lean in. He abided, leaning down to hear whatever it was he had to say. Augustus cupped his hand over his mouth and stage whispered, “Is that Dracula?” 

Copia nearly cackled.

“No, that’s your Uncle Terzo.” The Cardinal chuckled.

“Oh. Okay.”

“Dracula?!” Terzo exclaimed. “You flatter me! I’m Terzo, it’s very nice to meet you.” Terzo greeted, holding out his gloved hand for the boy to shake.

“Hi. I’m Augustus.” the boy said, taking his hand and shaking it.

“Augustus! So nice to have you in our family. There are a few other people here who are excited to meet you.”

“Feeling up to it?” Copia asked. 

Augustus nodded. 

“Okie dokie. Your Aunt (Y/N) and cousin Vinnie are here as well. Your cousin Violetta will be back from school soon.” Copia told Augustus.

Just around the corner, you were eagerly listening; after hearing of Augustus’s agreement, you walked down the hall to your son’s room, where you found him pacing in circles.

“Is he here yet?” He asked before you even got the chance to inform him he had arrived.

“He’s here! Come say hi! But remember, he’s nervous, so be very sweet.” You reminded him.

“Okay!” Vinnie agreed as you took his hand and walked him to the living room. As you entered the room and caught sight of your nephew the for the first time, your heart nearly melted. He was utterly adorable, golden hair, rosy cheeks, and freckles dappling his face; he looked like a little cherub. You turned to look down at your son and were elated to see his face lit up.

You gently crouched to the ground to meet your nephew at eye-level, noticing his eyes darting away from your gaze.

“Hi, Augustus. I’m (Y/N). It’s so nice to meet you!” You said, softening your voice. “This is Vinnie, your cousin, who is so excited to meet you.” 

“If you couldn’t tell.” Terzo joked, gesturing to his son, filled to the brim with energy.

“Hi! I’m Vinnie!” The boy excitedly introduced himself.

“Alright, Augustus. I’ll be back very soon.” Copia said to Augustus. “Have fun, and if you need anything, just let your Uncle Terzo or Aunt (Y/N) know. And if you need me, you can also let them know, okie dokie?”

Augustus nodded. “Okie dokie.”

“Do you want to play?” Vinnie asked, to which Augustus nodded once again.

“Okay, let’s go!” Vinnie announced, leaving no room for a verbal response as he grabbed Augustus’s hand, fingers intertwining, and eagerly took off to his room.

Though Copia kept a smile on his face, it was evident he was overwhelmed, understandably.

“You’re doing great.” You consoled Copia, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you, (Y/N). I greatly appreciate your help.” He expressed his gratitude.

“Of course, you don’t have to thank me.”

“He likes you, Copia,” Terzo observed.

“I hope so.”

“No, seriously, he likes you. It’s his first day here and he’s already holding your hand and clinging to your side. It’s precious.” You added in agreement.

“Sì, Copia, you have nothing to worry about,” Terzo reassured him.

“Thank you. And, uh, Terzo, can I borrow one of your ghouls? I have a little last-minute project for his room I’d love to get done.”

Meanwhile, just down the hall, Vinnie had dragged Augustus to his bedroom, animatedly explaining its contents, from his favorite toys scattered across the floor to the pictures on the wall.

“This is my room.” He announced. “And this is my bed and this is my rug. And this is my bookshelf and these are my books that my Mama and Papa read to me. Sometimes my sister. And these are my toys.”

Augustus listened patiently as Vinnie kept talking, admiring the contents of his room.

“Do you like it?” Vinnie asked once he was finished with his grand tour.

“I love it.”

“Yay, thanks! I like your headphones.” Vinnie complimented him. “Sometimes my Papa wears them when he listens to death music. Once he let me hear. Don’t tell my mom. Cause there’s bad words.”

Augustus giggled. “Can I draw?” he asked, unzipping his backpack.

“Sure,” Vinnie said as Augustus pulled out a box of crayons and a stack of paper, laying them on the ground for them to share. 

“Do you like to draw?” Augustus inquired, pulling a beige crayon out of the box

“I’m no good,” Vinnie answered.

“That’s okay.” Augustus pushed the crayons towards his cousin.

Hesitating at first, Vinnie reached into the box and pulled out a green crayon, beginning to scribble on a blank sheet of paper. The boys sat in silence, enjoying each other’s company until Vinnie caught sight of Augustus’s paper and noticed his artistry.

“That’s really good!” Vinnie complimented him.

“Thank you.” Augustus looked up, making eye contact with the raven-haired boy.

“I don’t even know what I have.” Vinnie laughed, looking at the chaos on his paper.

“Grass,” Augustus said, pointing at the drawing, covered in green scribbles. “You can make a house or animals or flowers or trees on top.”

“Oh. Good idea. House.”

"And then you can add people and make it a home," Augustus suggested.

The two went back to drawing in silence until a knock was heard, a girl standing in the doorway.

“Hi, Augustus!” she said. “I’m Violetta. How are you?”

Augustus held out a thumbs up, still concentrating on his paper.

“That’s good. Are you drawing? That’s cool.”

“Duh. He’s really good.” Vinnie told his sister, pointing at his cousin’s paper.

Violetta took a seat beside Augustus on the carpet, peering over at his drawing.

“Wow, that looks really good!” Violetta remarked, impressed by Augustus’ skills; on his paper was a drawing that appeared to be a self-portrait. “There’s a lot of space left. Any other ideas on what to add next?”

Augustus nodded.

“Well, I can’t wait to see!” Violetta said enthusiastically.

The boy smiled and looked up at Violetta, appreciative of her welcoming nature. As his eyes met her gaze, he noticed her black hair similar to her brother’s, as well as a dark red marking adorning the left side of her face. Anxious regarding Augustus’s staring, Violetta suddenly became self-conscious, looking away from the boy and fidgeting with her hands. She mentally prepared herself for a blunt comment, as she had faced many times before, especially from young children.

“I like it,” Augustus said sweetly, pointing to her face.

“Oh.” Violetta said, lost as to how she should respond, not expecting such a kind comment. “Thank you. I like your freckles.”

“Thank you,” Augustus replied with a smile, then went back to perfecting his masterpiece.

Violetta’s heart felt full. The kindness Augustus displayed towards her was unexpected, and caught her off-guard.

“I have homework to do, but it was nice meeting you, Augustus. I’m so excited that you’re my cousin.” She said farewell to Augustus, waving and exiting the room.

“Bye-bye, Violetta.” He said, waving his hand at the girl.

“My sister is cool,” Vinnie said. “She can also draw good.”

“Really?” Augustus said.

“Yeah. She’s awesome. Let’s play spies!” Vinnie declared, a sudden shift in topic, one that didn’t bother Augustus. “But we need something first.”

“What?” Augustus tilted his head.

“We need IDs,” Vinnie stated.

“You’re right! Spy IDs.” Augustus agreed.

“Can you draw them, though?” Vinnie asked, unsure of his abilities.

“Yeah!” 

“Alright, let’s do it!”

Augustus’s time spent with his cousin had clearly lightened his mood. By the time Copia had come to pick up Augustus, he was non-stop giggling with Vinnie, his expression soon resting in an adorable smile, dimples on display.

“Hi, Augustus. It looks like you had fun.” The Cardinal smiled, walking into Vinnie’s room.

“Yeah, I did.” Augustus cheerfully responded, looking Copia in the eyes.

“Ready to head back home and have something to eat?” 

“Yeah!”

After a fulfilling meal of spaghetti and meatballs- which Copia would have to make more often, the plate was empty in what seemed like a millisecond- Augustus was exhausted, but still enthusiastic upon discovering the surprise waiting for him.

“Wow!” Augustus said, standing in his room in front of the newly added bookshelf. “How did that happen so fast?”

“Magic,” Copia responded.

“Woah.” He said in awe, mouth agape as his ocean eyes glimmered.

“And now you can put your first book on it!”

“Oh!” Augustus exclaimed, taking off his backpack, unzipping it, and taking out the book. He walked over to the bookshelf, standing on his tallest tippy-toes and placing it on the shelf.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

“Goodnight, Augustus. If you need anything, I am just down the hallway, okie dokie?” He said, holding out a thumbs up.

Augustus, tucked snugly under the covers, held out a thumbs up in return. “Okie dokie.”

Copia, leaving the door just slightly ajar, made his way back to his room. Staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, he sighed deeply, picking apart the man staring back at him with tears in his eyes, who still didn’t seem much like a father. The day went well, he thought, but there was no doubt it was all incredibly overwhelming. Did he overwhelm Augustus? What could he do to help him come out of his shell? 

“Day one of fatherhood and I’m already a wreck,”Copia mentally belittled himself. In the middle of his spiral, he heard a quiet knock on the door. 

Like magic, Copia nearly teleported to the door and sucked back his tears; a superpower that supposedly came with becoming a parent. There Augustus stood in the doorway, tears running down his rosy cheeks.

“Augustus! What’s wrong?” He fretted, crouching in front of him, concern etched on his face.

“I can’t-” Augustus sniffled, Copia’s heart instantly shattering. “I can’t sleep.” the boy softly cried.

“Oh, it’s okay. It’s okay.” Copia consoled him. “Can I give you a hug?”

Augusted answered by holding out his arms, to which Copia immediately wrapped his arms around him.

“It’s very hard. I know. I know.” Copia comforted him, though he wanted to cry just as much. Through the sniffles and hiccups, Copia soon heard a giggle escape Augustus’s mouth. Copia gently pulled away from the hug, as Augustus smiled and pointed to the wall behind Copia. Turning around, he noticed his iconic poster hanging proudly - ‘Hang in there baby!’

“Oh, the poster? It is funny, isn’t it?”

Augustus nodded. “I like the cat.”

“So do I. Do you want it?”

“Really?” He asked, wiping tears from his eyes.

“Sì. We can put it up in your room.”

“Sì is yes?”

“Oh! Sì- Yes. Sì means ‘yes’ in Italian.”

“Okay. Yay!”

“I always seem to catch sight of that silly cat when I need it most…” He remarked. “Speaking of a cat… I know a very good story involving a lion, a witch, and a specific piece of furniture if you’d like to read it together.”

Augustus grinned wide, his joy completely replacing the tears he had shed just moments ago.

Copia followed Augustus into his room, carrying the framed poster, and setting it beside a stack of paper on top of the dresser.

“He will sleep here tonight, but we will put him on the wall tomorrow.” Copia said as Augustus crawled into bed and under the covers. “All snug?”

Augustus nodded.

“Okie dokie. Here we go. The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe.” He began. “Once there were…” Copia began, and soon noticed Augustus holding up four fingers.

“Ah, you are correct! Four children. And their names were…”

“Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy,” he repeated.

“And you remember them in the right order, too! Wow. Very good memory you have!”

“Thank you,” Augustus replied, smiling.

“This story is about something that happened to them when they were sent away from London during the war because of the air raids. They were sent to the house of an old Professor who lived in the heart of the country, ten miles from the nearest railway station and two miles from the nearest post office…”

Copia continued reading the story as Augustus found his eyes growing heavy under the soothing cadence of Copia’s voice. 

“This is the land of Narnia, said the Faun, where we are now; all that lies between the lamp post and the-”

Copia peered above the book and caught sight of Augustus, eyes shut and mouth agape, his breathing establishing a steady rhythm . Augustus had made it to sleep before they even made it to Narnia. Copia smiled, closing the book softly, careful not to disturb the now-sleeping Augustus. The Cardinal remained seated on the side of the bed for a moment, basking in heights of graciousness he didn't even know were humanly possible; he felt blessed that this precious little boy, whos life clearly had not been easy, was safe with the Clergy, was safe with him.

Placing the book on top of the nightstand and turning off the lamp, Copia carefully stood up and began to tiptoe out of the room, stopping when he noticed a sheet of paper sitting atop the dresser. He knew drawings were an important and often personal form of self expression, especially for children, but he couldn’t help but be curious as to what Augustus had come up with; he seemed like a creative spirit. Through the darkness of the room, squinting at the paper, Copia was able to make out two figures with writing on top.

Yeah, he was gonna be be a good Papa. Better than good, great. Some may even say the greatest.

.

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OMG YALL😭😭😭😭

first things first,

i can’t apologize enough for my absence!!! this story became way longer than i thought it would but i hope it was worth it!!! now that this is done i have other WIP stories i can finally continue working on that include augustus!!!

i love dad copia so much y’all omg i can't even, vinnie and augustus are twin flames omg im so excited to show yall more <3

thank you SO MUCH for reading i can’t thank you enough, i love y’all so much!!!! thank you for your love and patience!!! more stuff coming up SOON <3

<3, alice

[bonefall]

even though I've never read the books, i love how you handle the women in this series.

The utter lack of interest in the internal lives of women characters in WC kills me. If you don't read the series it's hard to put it into words, but it really does not value women on the same level as their male counterparts

I think the best example I can use is Turtle Tail. All of her choices, from going to live with Bumble, choosing a "cruel man" as a mate, and even her grief when Bumble dies, all only happen as accessories to Gray Wing's arc.

Living with Bumble was because Gray Wing was obsessing over a woman who didn't love him, neglecting Turtle who does

Choosing Tom the Wifebeater was also because Gray Wing didn't appreciate her enough

She accepts that her friend's murder was just an unfortunate accident and her emotions carried her away in the moment, because Gray Wing needs to be right that his brother is a good boy

In this way, Turtle Tail's emotions and motivations aren't allowed to really be about her. They're about how her romantic interest influences her. And then she's crushed by a car for his man pain after they've explored every other way her life could make him sad.

This does not happen with men. Even characters like Stemleaf and Larksong, whose primary narrative purpose is dying for their wife's pain, have functions outside of that. Stemleaf gives his life opposing the tyranny of the impostor in a rebellion, and Larksong has input on The Kin, SkyClan, and even serves as a source of comfort and support to a son who he's never met in contrast to the unreasonable mother.

There's just so much more respect and reverence to the toms in this series. You have to be in the POV of a molly to get depth, and even then, they nearly always (exceptions being mothwing and mistystar) include a major conflict over romance and/or parenthood

(And they usually get punished for their choices a lot harder than male counterparts. Directly contrast Crookedstar and Sparkpelt, who both distance themselves from their children out of grief, but only one has to deal with the lasting consequences of being a "bad parent")

Anyway, enough wistful analysis. It is MY kitchen and I get to choose the conflicts. It is my personal mission to write lots and lots of women persuing a higher education in STEM. Sadism, Torture, Evisceration, and Murder <3

[hyperfixingfr]

CW for abuse. Idk if I've said this already but a conversation with @rainbowwwzo last night prompted a thought. Why are we still trying to claim 2 and 3 have good families?

1 & 5 have amazing families (Cree aside). 4 has a family who's trying their best, although probably need to look into why their son has behavioral issues instead of sending him to boarding school. But they still have their best intentions for him!

However, 2 and 3 have both been shown to have abusive and neglectful families. Somehow, I still see some of you claim they aren't that way despite the piles of clips that prove them to be horrible for their children.

For one, Numbuh Two is PHYSICALLY ABUSED. He's wacked over the head with a cane for anything mildly annoying he does. And his mother does NOTHING. Even when in the same room watching it happen, she does NOTHING. His grandmother can't even remember his name. He results to LYING to try and get her to love him, and even that doesn't work. Do you understand how that would impact a child? Do you understand that his fear towards fighting in the show and tendency to yelp or scream is a trauma response, because he's abused? I'm not saying you need to headcanon the boy with 98 mental illnesses or something... But you'd really be mischaracterizing him and ditching what is so obviously shown in canon if you didn't have this impact him in some way, shape or form. I feel VERY strongly about his home situation being misportrayed in particular because I was once in a situation where I was living with only my abusive, demented grandmother and my mother who was too weak from her own mother's abuse to save me from being abused too. My home situation looked just like his and it almost offends me when people claim he'd be happy go lucky, no heavy mental battles, content with his life, best outcome of the group. Because I can tell you right now, absolutely not.

For Numbuh Three, she gets the most ignorance. Her father was shown to be emotionally immature, screaming, yelling and slamming when he couldn't scoop *ice cream*. I hate to say it, but do you think a man who can't even handle letting ice cream melt a bit would be treating his daughters right? Absolutely not. We'd be lucky if all he did was emotionally abuse them. But judging by his reaction, it unfortunately seems he'd lay hands if upset enough. He reacts this way constantly. And his wife isn't any better. She seems to be projecting herself onto her children. She seems dull and uninterested in doing anything worth-while, and seems more keen on keeping them entertained indirectly instead of directly via playing with them. She raises so many red flags that you'd only see in emotionally abusive or absent parents. And even if she weren't, you cannot discredit the fact that she'd be letting her husband do it to them instead. Because she hardly does anything about it besides saying "calm down". We all know Kuki's innocence is a fake mask, but it baffles me how many people cannot piece together that she puts it on to protect herself from the environment her parents have created. She acts innocent to protect her feelings, most likely from her father. If she acts innocent, people let her off the hook more, which means less yelling.

Tommy and Mushi both take on personality traits found in abused children. Tommy seals himself off after realizing he can't always have his brother available (would've been achieved had he been in the KND) which means he wouldn't have the support of anyone that likes him or at least tolerates him. Hiding away in his room would be the best way to avoid conflict from Lydia. While Mushi takes on a evil, "I need to be the center of attention" demeanor. She goes to extremes just to get back at people who had her best interest in mind. Usually children give up a grudge like that quickly. It's not as bad as Tommy's signs, but it does imply she's attention hungry.

I'm not saying to make them both look like emos listening to MCR daily. But please, take 2 and 3s home lives into proper account. Especially when trying to portray it. I don't like seeing all of these misportrayals of people saying they've got perfectly happy families because they don't and it's very obvious they don't. At least to me, who had experienced both an abusive grandmother + hopeless mother and emotionally immature angry all the time parent. Missing the basic "2 and 3 have bad home lives" feels like you've missed the point of the show. Of course kids with bad home lives are gonna be there fighting for a better home life. The show is about fighting for basic rights for children. Completely glossing over a very in your face instance(s) of children being treated less than human is crazy.

[persephone11110]

A Different Dialect | b.bradshaw

prompt: “You can’t keep hiding this stuff.”- credit: @memesomething

tw:illness—hiding said illness, past child abuse, self esteem issues, protective b.b, readers a mom| dad bradley bradshaw, reader is masking her pain, the word throw up is mentioned and vomit— also the act of throwing up is mentioned, perfectionism, pushing yourself to exhaustion, 15 years into the future

reader goes by angel

children names: Cobie and and Nicky

this a random one-shot/ apart of FALLEN ANGEL Series

AN: Its been awhile since I posted to this series, random idea was born after listeing to Because of You. And i also pulled a quote from one of my fav shows ever Bojack Horseman , ever have a hard time trying to write the middle of a fic

—

Self care….not your biggest strong suit, which is pretty funny for ER/n. Lets just say Bradley doesn’t find it so funny.

This is all started because of your weak immune system. It was shameful how someone who’s been a ER/n for the past decade and half didn’t recognize the severity and symptoms of the flu. For crying out loud your a mom and a wife, your the definition of unstoppable,someone who doesn’t get the chance to fall apart. And yet here we are—laying on bedroom floor, curled up in pain. Weakness doesn’t look good on you Y/n Bradshaw.

Let’s turn the clock back.

This time, you had the chance to hide your sickness from your other half—since he recently taken promotion of Captain he had been busy with students and paper work. As evil as its sounds—you just didnt want him fretting over you, ruining his work schedule because of you, missing out with friend’s because of you.

Being sick today wasn’t any different, you usually toughen it out—pushing yourself while sick was a familiarity, well before you became an adult. You gone to school with body aches, slight fevers, the twins sports game with severe nausea—taking medicine to soothe it. Nothing made you stop—as you learned at a young age age,“Y/n the world doesn’t stop just because your sick.”

You could remember the last time you got sick as a child and the memories are faint but some of it is ingrained into the back of your mind.

“Y/n remember what we say about crying... crying is stupid!"— Dad had grown tired of your loud wails, having come home from a important dinner, he grabbed you by your jaw and gripped it tightly. “Don’t make me have to tell you again”.

You cupped your forehead once again, it felt like someone was taking a knife pulling it in and out. Only couple more hours and your teenaged twins would grow tired and retire to their rooms.Then you could fall apart—cry if you needed to, throw up if you needed to.

What you didnt expect was your husband to come home early.

“Honey its just a little cold”, you mother batted your hands away from your nose, she stood behind you smoothing the sides of your dresses perfectly.“Your father needs at your best for this dinner, the governor might be considering giving him the funding he deserves”.

You didn’t deserve to be cared for, you didn’t earn the right to stay home like your parents did.

You rolled your shoulders back, you looked in the mirror, praying to god that your mascara didn’t smudge. You put on a fake smile because god forbid you didn’t you smile hard enough infront of strangers your father would have your backside and a belt.

“Come on Y/n, Linda!”’your father shouted from downstairs, he stood at the end of staircase. His shoulders squared straight, his eyes portraying nothing but coldness, it really added to the whole army man persona. “Don’t have all day”.

You sniffled one more time, you swallowed the snot down your throat. Mom hated the way your nose looked after you blew it too many times.

You spent the entire night politely turning down men old enough to your father,while also keeping the bile of vomit down. Multitasker

“Dear god Y/n loosen up, your father needs all the support he can get”. Your mother walked past you, whispering into your ear.

“Yes ma’am, let me go freshen up real quick”, your were face down in toliet, biles of vomit coming up. Remembering where you were, you quickly stood flushing the toliet— you held onto the stall wall.

An older woman passed you onto the way to the sink. “This generation,what makes you think a man is going to want you like that if cant even hold your liquor?”. The silvered hair woman voice held a certain amount of digust that even your own mother couldn’t beat.

Pull yourself together Y/n.

You can do better than this, you were taught trained better than this.

—

Walking through the front door Bradley expected two things, his wife helping the twins with last minute homework Or Cobie and Nicky chasing after Orbit, causing a mess to happen around the house.

Quiet house. Bradley allowed his feet to bring him to their shared bedroom.

He didn’t expect for his wife to laying on the floor curled up in a fetal position.“Angel!” Bradley shouts as he slides on to the ground, he didn’t have time to panic—years of being in miltary and being father kicked in. He pressed his finger into your neck hoping and praying to god there was pulse somewhere.

“Brad?” You open your eyes, your confused the worry look Bradley was wearing.“Whats wrong?”.

“Whats wrong Y/n?” His voice dripping with sarcasm, “I just found my wife unconscious on the floor”. You and Bradley are sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Bradley lets not be hysterical, I wasn’t unconscious I’ve worked a graveyard shift while also taking care of the kids”. Your was voice strained, you lost it while at Cobie soccer game.

You squeezed your eyes the ceiling light was starting to bother you, and because you didn’t want Bradley to see you cry.

Bradley gave you once over and started to feel his bubbling anger starting to faint away. “Angel we’re partners remember?” He’s caressing your face, “I have your six, you know that right?”

You peered your eyes back open, and whispered“I know that, I just…..nevermind it doesn’t matter”.

You start to move away from him“the twins need some important forms signed Brad-Brad and Orbit needs to be let out again”.

“Y/n dont worry about that, right now we need to talk about your lack of self care”. Bradley pulls you back to him, “Please let me take care of you”. The amount of emotion that filled Bradley voice broke your heart, you didn’t mean to make him upset.

“We also need to talk about I didn’t even notice my own damn wife was in so much pain”. Bradley ran his hands through hair, “I mean how I couldn’t I?”.

“Well Brad you’ve been working long hours since becoming a captain, the navy needs you more than usual to”. You smile weakly, the last thing you wanted to do was make Bradley feel bad for being promoted.

“Oh angel Im sorry, thats it I’m taking a leave of absence”. Bradley tone held a no-none sense tone.

“No,no Bradley I’m fine this something im used to, sometimes you need make sacrifices”. You speak like its fact, you’ve never been told otherwise.

Bradley sighs his eyes rimming with tears, its got this far without Bradley noticing.“No Y/n your just used to making unnecessary sacrifices for everyone else”.

“When the last time you’ve been taken care of— when’s the last time I spend the day taking care of you?”. Bradley voice was soft, careful to not wake the kids. “Y/n let me take care of you, my wife the mother of kids deserves to be loved , cherised and taken care of”. His voice is quiet, he puts his hand into yours. “I love you Y/n Bradshaw”.

“I love you to Bradleu Bradshaw”.