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acelucky · 9 months

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Kinship - Escaflowne Secret Santa 2023

@esca-ss @riafunnel

Below is my story for the 2023 ESCA SECRET SANTA - apologies it's a day late! I got my dates confused.

Word Count: 5,969 Pairings: Van x Hitomi (implied feelings/lovers tiffs) Allen x Eries

Summary: This short story takes place over a few days and follows the Crusade traveling to Asturia along with the first few days there. Hitomi and Van get to know one another better, whilst also having a few arguments. When Hitomi is unable to sleep she spies Allen and Eries in the Palace gardens, Van takes Hitomi to the market and the two try to find a way to bond and get closer for the sake of Escaflowne and Gaea.

Warnings - None - Writing is SFW.

⚔️🩷🐉

“Van, what was it like…” Hitomi sighed as she wistfully looked over the edge of the Crusade, gazing at the pink tinged clouds below. Never had clouds reminded her more of candy floss. She felt a little stab in her chest, the grief of knowing how far away home was along with the uncertainty of the future. She longed for it whilst being afraid to leave Gaea and what waited for her at home.

“Huh?” Van asked walking over to her.

“What was it like, growing up in Fanelia?”

Van slumped down onto the floor next to her looking thoughtful for a moment. He crossed his legs, tucking his worn brown leather boots underneath himself. “It was…well it was home.”

“And was it happy?”

He nodded, “Mostly yes, at least until Folken went missing, then everything changed.”

“How old were you?”

“I was five, so my memories of the happier days with my family are limited, especially with my father, he died when I was three.”

Hitomi went to respond but Van continued, “Mostly I remember time spent with Balgus training, there was little time for family warmth or comfort once Folken had died. My brother had failed so I had to be the perfect version of him, no matter what, when there’s that much pressure, there’s little room for love.” “Oh…”

“It’s okay,” Van dismissed, “Not like I remember it any other way, but it’s why I am so close to Merle. She’s been there for me through it all, I could never turn my back on her. She saw me at my worst, I made a promise that I’d never abandon her.”

“I understand that” Hitomi answered looking back at the clouds. “And was your home beautiful?”

“Yes, my mother loved it there.”

“And have your people always fought dragons? What if the dragons weren’t evil, they were just trying to live their life.”

“Do you have to ask so many questions?”

Hitomi pulled her knees up to her chest, leaving Van’s question unanswered. Van huffed, clearly not used to being ignored by others, the indignance he felt was written across his face but he would not be the first one to crack.

Equally Hitomi wouldn’t be responding, if Van wanted to sit in awkward silence that was fine with her, it’s not as if she wasn’t used to this at home with her sister and parents. Sometimes silence could be comforting.

She tilted her head to the side watching the clouds go by below, a flock of birds, that reminded her of geese flew by, calling to one another as they went. She could see other birds in the distance, odd insects would fly past, some of them far larger than anything she’d seen back home in Japan.

Van watched her with interest, at first he had been annoyed at how she hadn’t responded to him but now he was fascinated by how at peace she was despite being so far from home. More than that she had a curious smile, almost like a child discovering things for the first time. Her cheeks were a little flushed, made more intense by the evening light, soft pinks and oranges which danced on her face.

So in the end, it was Van who relented, “I’m sorry I snapped.” Somehow he still managed to make it sound like he was cross even when apologising. Hitomi looked over to him and smiled, “It’s okay, I understand, I’m sorry I was asking so many questions. There’s just not much for me to do right now.”

“Do you have much to do or entertain you where you’re from.”

Hitomi had to laugh, “That depends, I’m not waited on…I’m not like you or the others. My life is very different. I study, a lot… a lot of reading, a lot of track.”

“Like tracking animals?”

Shaking her head Hitomi replied, “Running, we run around a track and try to beat our fastest scores.”

“And you do this for fun? You’re not being chased by a dragon or some enemy?”

“No, we don’t have dragons where I’m from. We listen to music though, I love music.”

“And what else?”

“I like to spend time with my friends mostly, we visited the shrine sometimes, I spend time with my brother and my parents, of course there’s my Tarot cards…” she paused for a moment, “I love my room, my parent’s house, our garden. My life is simple and far less exciting than this but it’s happy and there I am safe.” Her hand traced the gold chain which held her grandmother’s necklace, she rubbed it unconsciously a few times and held onto it tightly.

“Do you miss home?” Even as he asked the question, he knew it was a silly one, he shifted his weight and found his face screwed up a little with embarrassment.

Hitomi took a moment, “Yes.”

“Me too.”

Gaddes walked by then breaking the atmosphere, “I’d suggest getting some sleep now if I were you. We should be in Asturia in 4 hours or so I doubt they’ll be much chance for rest when we get there.”

Van nodded and stood up, “Goodnight,” he spoke without looking back at Hitomi, walking off to his quarters.

Gaddes walked over to Hitomi and reached out to help her up, “I know you don’t need to be treated like a princess,” he sighed as he helped her to her feet.

“Thank you Gaddes I appreciate it.”

“Make sure you get some sleep okay?” He asked, genuine concern not remotely concealed by his tone nor his expression.

Hitomi nodded, “I will, thank you.” She was still holding his hands at this moment and realised just how dwarfed her own hands were in in comparison to his. She let go and turned, walking away and back to her room when she couldn’t help but ask, “What’s Asturia like?”

Gaddes gave a longing sigh, how to answer that question? It was home for him, it was where family were, where the landscape that made him feel happy and alive was. The smell of the sea, the sea birds and markets. There were rolling fields of green and wildflowers. It was also home to the woman he had long since loved and hoped, knowing it was a fool’s hope, that one day they may be able to be together.

“It’s beautiful, really beautiful and peaceful in places. There’s just the right balance of sea, city and countryside for none of it to be too overwhelming or isolating.”

Hitomi hummed, “That sounds so much like my home.”

“And?” Gaddes raised an eyebrow.

Hitomi smiled in response, “Perfect.”

**********

That night Hitomi found it hard to sleep, she was equal parts excited and nervous for the next day. It would involve meeting new people once again and getting used to somewhere completely alien to her. Furthermore, there would be discussions of war and battle once more, it frightened her more than she let on.

The bed she’d been provided with was comfortable and she felt if she didn’t at least try to sleep it would be rude of her considering others had made changes to accommodate her.

Once settled she thought about what Van said, his words ringing in her ear, “Me too.”

She thought about how Gaddes’ face lit up when he talked of home. She thought about her own home and then she thought of Merle and how she had lost hers, everything made sense now with why Merle was so attached to Van, of course she would be and now Hitomi felt selfish to have not seen it before.

She turned over in bed and pulled the blankets closer, higher, wanting to disappear under the weight of it all and further into the darkness. But she caught the glimmer of the stars in the night sky and so focused on them and their brightness instead, that was a comfort to her and with the moon looking over her she finally fell asleep.

When she awoke, the Crusade had landed. The sound of the bustle of the ship that had woken her up, 5 minutes later there was a knock at the door.

“Lady Hitomi,” she recognised Gaddes’ voice, “We’re going to be heading out shortly, come meet us up on deck.”

“Be there in a minute,” she replied sleepily, wishing she’d gone to bed earlier.

“Do you need anything?”

“No,” she lied, she needed something to eat or drink at the very least.

“Okay, well I’ve left something outside.”

Hitomi got up a minute later and head to the door, opening it a jar she found a cold glass of water and a piece of bright, strange looking fruit. She smiled as she picked them up, though a part of her wished it had been Van to have brought the items, to have thought of her. Closing the door and leaning back against it she scolded herself, Van had far more important things to think about which didn’t concern her. Why was she feeling like this, what was wrong with her?

“About time,” Merle teased as she got up on deck, finding everyone else already waiting to disembark. Van seemed annoyed, restless, tense…he was the first to climb down without so much as a nod in her direction.

Hitomi just smiled in reply, there was no need to say anything, and she knew anything she did say was likely to set Van off, his temper was noticeably short.

She focused on something more positive. Gaddes had been right, Asturia was beautiful, she could smell the sea air and heard the gulls as they flew by.

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

Later that night…

It was no use; Hitomi could not get to sleep. The bed felt too big to her, as if it would swallow her whole, she, just a child laying in the middle of tangled sheets. She made a point of sleeping on one side of the bed so she could pretend it was small like her bed at home. Funny how she’d always dreamt of having such a large bed, what teenager didn’t? But to sleep in one felt so lonely, too vast to fill with warmth.

It wasn’t just the bed, the room she was in also felt too large, empty in many respects. The space that had been left provided so many places where people could be. She felt uneasy in the Palace, it was nothing like being on the Crusade Ship where she felt at home and where she could be herself. Here she had to act more like Millerna whom she’d met earlier that day, to pretend to be more of a princess and Hitomi was constantly worried that she could do something to cause offense or alarm.

The outfit she’d been given to wear was too pink, too frilly, to completely unlike anything she would usually wear out. That made her uncomfortable, how on earth was she to relax when she didn’t feel like herself?

Then there was the issue of Van, she’d barely seen him at all once they reached Asturia. It bothered her that there was a connection between herself, her pendant and Escaflowne, and yet Van was barely interested in hearing about it. She’d tried to speak to him when they passed one another, but Van had been whisked away and when she spoke, he simply ignored her. If there was one word to sum up Van it would be….infuriating, frustrating, stubborn…. Hitomi sighed.

It was no use after over an hour of trying to get to sleep she decided laying there would achieve nothing, all she would do was worry about the fact she couldn’t get to sleep which in turn would make it harder. Instead, she decided to practise radical acceptance and got out of bed. She wrapped a dressing gown around herself and tightened it, slipped on some house slippers to go for a walk and explore a bit of the castle whilst also trying to locate a kitchen where she might acquire a hot tea to make her feel sleepy or some warm milk. Of course, there would probably be a maid for that sort of thing, though that made her feel incredibly uncomfortable.

Opening the door slightly she poked her head round the corner to check there was no one around who might scold her for being up so late and snooping.

Once she realised the coast was clear she emerged and as she started to walk down the corridor, she marvelled at all the candles, pictures and finery. With every turn she made a mental note so she wouldn’t get lost on her way back to the room, that would be an embarrassing story that Merle would surely find out about and tease her the following day.

She continued along until she reached a staircase, a kitchen would surely be downstairs? Slowly she descended and she was correct, shortly she found a kitchen, there was no one around so she snuck inside and managed to find a glass and some milk. As she left the kitchen, ensuring everything was in its place, she saw candles lit outside. They hadn’t been before, who was out there now? She changed the direction she was walking in and head towards the velvet curtains. Looking through the window she could see nothing, she crept round the door and tried to find a way outside. Perhaps the fresh air would help her get to sleep.

She slipped out into the cool evening air where she found bees buzzing around night scented flowers and lavender, moths danced round the flames of the great lanterns. She heard voices hushed and whispered, Hitomi knew she shouldn’t head in their direction, but curiosity got the better of her. She went round another corner and alongside a tall hedgerow, there she found a topiary of a great bird of prey and another of a fish. As she got closer, she was sure it was Allen’s voice she could hear. The other she wasn’t sure of, it was a woman, but from what she could recall of Millerna, this wasn’t her.

She crept slowly across the gravel path, clutching the dressing gown tightly around her to protect herself from the cool night air.

“Please, just hear me out Princess,” she heard Allen speak.

Princess? It wasn’t Millerna, so that meant.

She peaked through a gap in the bushes and there saw Allen and Princess Eries deep in discussion, Eries had her back to Allen, visibly upset. Allen reached for her, but Eries must have sensed his movement as she tensed, her clothes no longer hanging loose and free, rather now stiff as she took a step away from him.

“How many times Allen,” she spoke softly.

“I…I know this must be confusing.”

Eries spun round, her hands brushing Allen’s away, “Confusing? That isn’t the half off it. You had a secret affair with my oldest sister whilst she was married. And that, that perhaps I can forgive considering Marlene is no longer with us, considering….” Eries paused as her expression softened, “Marlene loved you and I have no doubt your feelings towards her were true, but you had a son with her and now she’s dead, now it’s me whose affections you are after. All this time…all those years wasted when we could…” Eries paused, unable to finish the sentence. There were words here that did not need to be said.

Allen remained silent; Hitomi was frozen to the spot as she watched unable to quite process what she was seeing. What was this about Allen being a father, having an affair? He had seemed such the gentleman and so chivalrous, but he was could also be quite flirtatious, Hitomi couldn’t deny that.

“Tell me Allen, do you know what it is you want? Who is it you want? Do you love me truly, or is this just one of your games, your desperate attempt to cling to something, to make yourself appear less shallow than you really are.”

Hitomi could tell that this question hurt Allen, he looked away from Eries, though he could find nothing to rest his eyes on and focus his attention away from her and the question. What should he say? Was she right, in part yes, but he was confused after-all there were some feelings there, too many feelings if anything.

“Princess…you must know, I did not plan to fall in love again. I loved your sister truly, we were both so young. But my intentions are honest and true.”

Eries took a step back towards Allen, her hand reaching out to touch his cheek, “I love you.” A pause and then, “I am in love with you.”

“Oh Allen.”

As he stepped into the arms of Eries he looked over her shoulder and right in Hitomi’s direction, she took a deep breath and tried to remain as a statue completely still and hoped that in holding her breath and remaining firm that he wouldn’t see her. If he had, well she didn’t like to think of the consequences.

Just then she heard his owl who gave a loud hoot as he swooped above her towards Allen making her jump and clutch at her breast.

She nearly let out a scream but at that moment a large pair of arms grabbed her from behind and put a hand across her mouth to muffle the sound.

“Hitomi, it’s okay it’s me,” Gaddes spoke as he let go of her.

Hitomi turned now they were crouching on the floor beside the hedge, “Gaddes,” she whispered, “What are you doing up?” As she whispered, her gaze travelled from Gaddes to behind him, where Van stood, his expression smug, clearly pleased that he had been a part of catching her spying on others.

“We could ask you the same question.” Van said.

Her cheeks flushed, “I couldn’t sleep, I just wanted to tire myself out and find something to drink. The doors were open, I thought a nighttime stroll in the garden would be just the thing. I wasn’t intending to spy on anyone.”

Van scoffed, “Of course you weren’t.”

Gaddes elbowed him gently, “We’ve all been there.”

“I think, I think I’ve had enough exercise and excitement for the evening and perhaps should return to my room now.”

“I think that would be best, shall I walk you both back, before you cause trouble?”

Hitomi nodded, Van didn’t but complied, he didn’t wish to make relations with the Asturian’s difficult.

Gaddes walked behind them as they quietly left the garden, he could sense the tension between the two youngsters but dare not say anything for fear of setting them off and drawing attention to them. Both held their arms in tight to their bodies, their line of vision either straight ahead or slightly to the side away from the other.

Eventually Hitomi spoke, “Could you not sleep either Van?”

“Obviously.”

“There’s no need to be like that, I’m just making conversation.”

“Well it was a silly question.”

“Fine, why couldn’t you sleep, what’s keeping you up?”

Van slowed his pace, there was genuine care in Hitomi’s voice and so he softened in response, “I think you already know, how can I sleep peacefully when there is so much weight on my shoulders, when others cannot…when.”

Before he finished speaking they reached Hitomi’s room, she felt a little perturbed that Van would now know where she was sleeping but said nothing. Van did not finish his sentence, but Hitomi knew where he was going and felt useless. What could she really do to help?

“As hard as it is, I think you’ll both feel better after a good night’s sleep.” Gaddes said, opening the door to Hitomi’s room.

She stepped inside and then turned back, she couldn’t help but ask, “Gaddes, what is it with Allen? I overheard…he has a son and...”

Van looked across to Gaddes, he wouldn’t admit it, but he was curious too.

Gaddes signed and shook his head at her, “Sshhhh,” his voice wasn’t cruel. “Forget you heard about it. Allen’s relationship with the Aston sisters is, to keep it simple…actually the opposite of that, rather complex. Best you don’t think on it or get involved with it, the rest of us know to stay out of it.”

Hitomi nodded, “Understood, goodnight Gaddes and thank you for stopping me,” she looked across at Van, “Stopping us, from embarrassing ourselves”

“Goodnight miss.” Gaddes started to walk away, giving the other two privacy.

“Goodnight Van, try to get some sleep…I know it’s hard.” Hitomi said.

Van nodded, “You too,” he turned to follow Gaddes.

This time when Hitomi got back into bed her head was racing with thoughts, she was tired now and in need of sleep to recover from the excitement and worry of the evening. She worried about Allen, she was rather fond of him and didn’t like to think of him as anything other than the perfect knight. But then no one was perfect she supposed, everyone had secrets. Perhaps Gaddes was right, try to forget about it, stay out of it… it’s what the rest of them do.

She slept soundly, a head full of pretty dreams, hopes and an unexpected appearance from Van standing on a beach waiting for her.

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

The next time she saw Van it was the following afternoon, she’d hoped she would see him at breakfast so they could get to know one another better, so their bond could strengthen especially due to her connection to Escaflowne. She wanted to be able to support him in battle and felt to be able to do this best she wanted to really know him and get through the tough shield he put up.

“Van there you are,” Hitomi ran across the Courtyard to him, her first instinct was to throw her arms around him and pull him into a tight embrace. But the expression on his face and the way Merle glared at him meant she quickly slowed her pace.

“I’ve been looking for you, we could do with…. what would we call it? Training I suppose to get to know Escaflowne better, you better…I think that’s what we need to do in order for me to be the most use during battle.”

Van raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced, “I’m not sure Escaflowne works like that.”

Hitomi was not one to be put off when her mind was set on something, “Maybe not, but do you know for certain that isn’t how it works?” She paused to judge his reaction, “And do you even truly understand Escaflowne yet?”

She knew she had overstepped the mark but was growing frustrated with feeling useless and not being listened to.

“What would you know about that? You think I don’t know Escaflowne? Know something that my blood is linked to as King of Fanelia, that I was born to pilot?” His nostrils flared as he raised his voice. “But no, you know Escaflowne better than me, I see.”

Hitomi shook her head and clutched her pendant, she closed her eyes not wanting to see the indignant little boy any longer, “That isn’t what I said.” She paused to take a breath, not wanting to make things worse, she reached out for him.

Van took a large step backwards and swatted away her hand, “Who do you think you are to give orders to me?”

Merle sat by his side, cleaning her paws. It irritated Hitomi how placid she could be during an argument.

Hitomi sighed, “Please Van, put your pride to the side. That is what a King would do.”

When she opened her eyes, he was stood with an unreadable look on his face, that developed into a smirk. Merle was frozen in place, twitching.

Vans coldness had irritated Hitomi before, but now it actively upset her. Before Van answered Hitomi turned and walked off, careful not to run, although she would have liked nothing more than to escape everyone as quickly as possible, it was important she didn’t appear too dramatic, or at least not as dramatic as Van.

She could feel all eyes on her, mutterings, people wondering if they’d had a lover’s tiff. She had to laugh at the thought, they didn’t spend nearly enough time together for it to be anything as close as that.

Hitomi thought about retreating to the garden, the courtyard, the library but in any of these places she could be interrupted, the one place where she could escape would be her bedroom she’d been assigned.

When she shut the door, she leant against it for a moment and then walked to the other side of the room wanting to get as far away from others as possible. She would not cry. She would not cry.

By the window she sat on the ledge, the curtains blowing in the gentle sea breeze. She pulled her knees up to her chest and took a deep breath, feeling the sadness spread across her body, tears building in her eyes. Hitomi blinked several times trying to disperse the signs of unhappiness, as she tried to fight these feelings she looked out across the gardens and there something caught her eye.

Millerna was sat on a bench next to a man she didn’t recognise, perhaps this was her fiancé, Dryden? She wondered how Allen felt about that, although from last night he was in love with Eries, at least that’s how it came across. But Gaddes had said his relationship with the sisters was complex…

There was nothing quite like other people’s problems or mess to help one forget their own situation. Just then she heard a knock at the door.

She ignored it for the first time, trying to make out more of what Allen and Millerna were talking about, perhaps their body language would give away more. This was far more interesting than worrying about that silly boy, Van, anyway.

Another knock, “Hitomi.”

Ah. Van.

Van was at her door. Hitomi suspected he didn’t care, just didn’t want to look bad so once again his pride was getting the better of him.

Remembering the arguments she had with her brother she replied, “Hitomi isn’t in here.”

Van cleared his throat, “Then why is she talking to me.”

“She isn’t.”

“Name one other person in this country who has an accent as funny as yours.”

Hitomi dropped her knees and swung round to get off the ledge, “Hey you take that back.”

She marched across the room and opened the door, “It worked, didn’t it?” Van asked.

“You should be training,” Hitomi replied.

Van shook his head, “No, I should be listening. A good King listens right?”

Hitomi’s expression softened, “Right.”

“And I think, as much as I don’t like to say it,” Van lowered his voice as several guards walked past. “I think you are right, we should spend some more time together, get to know each other and you need to understand Escaflowne, be a part of her, breathe with her.”

Hitomi nodded; a determined smile played on her face.

“And how do you propose we go about this?”

“Do you like markets?” Van asked.

“Yes, who doesn’t? But Millerna was going to take Merle and I later today.”

Van shook his head, “You can still go with her later, but let’s go together.” As if reading Hitomi’s mind he added, “Just you and I, no Merle for once, she’ll understand.”

“Will she?” Hitomi asked feeling incredibly doubtful of this claim and already feeling the wrath of the cat girl creep up on her.

“Please Hitomi, trust me,” Van held out his hand for hers, “I know, it’s a lot after how I’ve behaved, but give me this one chance.”

“Yes Van, I will.”

The market was busier than Van would have liked, in his mind, perhaps due to his sheltered upbringing, he’d imagined the market here to be quieter, a peaceful place for pottering up and down the stalls and somewhere where they would be able to talk undisturbed. He pictured them laughing over drinks, trying different food and perhaps buying something for Hitomi that would help her feel more at home. Something that was for her alone and wasn’t just borrowed like everything else that had been bestowed upon her thus far.

Instead, what they got was the noise, stall owners shouting over one another, horrific competition for buyers. The smells of the fish market, flowers, spices, all mingled into one assault on the senses.

But when he looked over at Hitomi and saw how happy she was as she looked at each stall and talked to the owners, picking up objects and mulling over the different objects, he found himself smiling properly for the first time in ages. She seemed to fit right in, the locals loved her and her charm.

Although they didn’t speak much whilst browsing the market, apart from to comment what they were looking at, it didn’t matter. Just spending that time alone together meant they bonded better than in any forced situation, making one another laugh naturally and finding they had things in common in terms of their taste buds.

Eventually when they settled on what to drink, some local spiced red wine, and to eat, steak and salad, they went to sit on a bench overlooking the water away from the hustle and bustle.

“What do you think of the market?”

Van took a moment to consider his answer, he was thinking he’d be the one asking questions not the other way round.

“Do you miss home a lot?”

Hitomi gulped, “Every day, I look forward to returning when I can,” as if sensing his discomfort at the idea she added, “Of course I hope it isn’t too soon, I want to be a help to you in this war. I’m not ready to leave yet, not nearly ready. Besides…there is so much I need to learn about this,” she took off her pendant and passed it to Van to study.

Hitomi stared out at the ocean, “In many ways this place, it reminds me of home.”

“Do you live near the sea?”

“Yes, I see it every day on my way to school.”

“From what I saw, it was very beautiful.”

Hitomi had forgotten that Van had seen earth, if only very briefly, the shrine was one of her favourite places to reflect and find peace, she was glad that he had seen it.

“I wish you could have seen more.”

Van placed his hand next to Hitomi’s their fingertips touching, “Maybe one day I will.”

She smiled, it was a nice dream to have, even if it was just that, a dream, a fantasy of something she knew could never be no matter how hard either of them wished for it. But the fact that Van had said it out loud, made it real, was even thinking about it made her happier than she could say.

After eating they continued to browse the market, Hitomi opting for another glass of the delicious red wine. It soothed her throat and warmed her up even though the seaside city was plenty warm, it was still a nice sensation.

It was whilst passing a store selling trinkets that Hitomi spotted a relic from home, she froze on the spot staring at the silver disc spinning in the slight breeze and pointed towards it.

Van, on following her finger asked, “Do you want it?”

Hitomi took a few steps closer and asked the vendor, a fish man, “Where did you get this?”

“Ahh a pretty little trinket isn’t it? Would you like a closer look?” He took the disc down and passed it over to Hitomi, “There you go miss.”

“But where…. where did you find it?”

The seller tapped where his nose would have been had he been human. “I have many mysteries and secrets. Someone brought this to me, asked me if I’d like to buy it, how could I resist something so beautiful?”

Hitomi smiled as she turned the disc over in her hands, yes, how could anyone resist something so beautiful? Van paid for it and the two of them returned to the palace afterwards.

“Are you okay, every time you look at that thing you grow distant, what is it about it that had you so hypnotised?”

“This is from home,” Hitomi said as she lifted the disc up, it gleamed in the sunlight showing off all the colours of the rainbow.

Van took it from Hitomi as she held it out, carefully, lest it should break, he turned it over in his hands, “What is it?”

“I don’t even know how to explain what it does Van, but it plays music.”

“How?” He wrinkled his brows, clearly unsure of what Hitomi meant.

“We, we have a device, more than one…. rather there are many similar devices which you can have and when you put this disc into it there is a button to play the music that is contained.”

Van didn’t seem any surer of the matter, his expression still curious. He passed the disc back to Hitomi for safe keeping, “But you have nothing to play this item on here?”

“Well…actually,” Hitomi had kept the disc man a secret, but the thought of sharing that treasure with Van excited her. “If you don’t be mean to me for the rest of the day then I will show you something later this afternoon.”

Van intrigued nodded, “Deal.”

With that Van purchased the CD for Hitomi, the trip to the market had been in his opinion a great success achieving exactly what he’d intended.

“So Escaflowne, I think it’s time we paid it a visit don’t you? It is possible she is feeling awfully neglected.”

“Let’s go.”

When they arrived in the great hall where Escaflowne was being kept, Hitomi couldn’t help but feel unease at the number of guards all around. They were watching Escaflowne, yes, but to what end? Was it to protect the guymelef and ensure it wasn’t stolen away, or was it because Asturia had their eyes on it instead.

The two of them stood in silence for a moment, admiring it, Van still sometimes couldn’t believe he was Escaflowne’s pilot, so whenever he stood before it he took a moment to be grateful, to stand in awe at the machine which under his fingertips and command came alive. The machine to which he was destined to pilot and with whom he had a fierce connection.

Hitomi turned to face him, “Van?”

Van moved forwards walking towards Escaflowne, aware of everyone watching him, wanting to see what came next. The problem was, even Van wasn’t sure. He was certain with Hitomi they could win, as long as they continued to bond he believed they could not fail. But the pressure of being a King, the pressure of so many eyes in the back of his head caused him to sweat and tremble a little as he reached Escaflowne.

Hitomi’s pendant started to glow as she followed and walked closer to Escaflowne, she placed a hand on the Energist and closed her eyes. There in the solitude she could hear the heartbeat, slow and steady, like it was moving underground, in hibernation and an aware slumber.

Talk to me….she thought. Escaflowne, what is it you need?

She turned to Van, “It’s okay Van, I’m here. The three of us are here together. Join me.” Van followed her lead, placing a hand on top of Escaflownce, fingers overlapping slightly so the three were joined.

“Together, we will work this out.” Hitomi said.

Van smiled, “Together, we can win.” It was the most certain Van had been of anything in a very, very long time.

a/n - I really hope you enjoyed this, it ended up being longer than originally planned and I tried to tie several things you like together. I wasn't 100% on the ending, I wrote a little more and changed it a few times but in the end this felt like the perfect place to stop.

#Escaflowne #the vision of escaflowne #Van Fanel #hitomi kanzaki #allen schezar #eries aston #gaddes #merle #escaflowne secret santa #ESS #Gaddes #My writing

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katiajewelbox · 1 year

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The melancholy eldest princess of the kingdom of Asturia, Princess Eris is a wise and rational stateswoman. The 3 roses represent the 3 Aston sisters - Eris, Marlene, and Millerna. She is a character from the anime Vision of Escaflowne.

My Picmix portrait features official art from the anime along with a pattern by William Morris and my digital edits.

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azsazz · 7 months

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Can't get f1 Az out of my head now, what team would he be in? Who would be his team members and other driver?? It could be a scaled down retelling of Niki Lauda and reader could be the doc who gets him through it 🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️ Maybe is isn't a driver and works with the crew or maybe he's a retired driver who comes back to work for a team again 🤔 Maybe throw some magic in there and let Az be Illyrian with his shadows still but secret idk, time to scour the internet for an Az f1 story 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

I feel like if Az was in a team it'd be merc only because of the suits 🙏

I'm not going to lie I was thinking ferrari for some reason but i could def see him as a merc driver too...this is too good not to explore so let me see who would drive for what team lol:

Ferrari: Az & Dorian (shadow daddiesssss)

Mercedes: Rhys & Ruhn (they think they're the hottest shit ever...and they might be right)

Red Bull: Cassian & Baxian (would be the most fun ever)

McLaren: Hunt & Rowan

Alpine: Tarquin & Tharion

AlphaTauri: Lorcan & Ithan (he would literally hate ithan lol it would be hilarious)

Haas: Bron & Hart (lol it just makes sense)

Aston Martin: Eris & Fenrys (HOT)

Williams: Chaol & Tamlin (i'm so sorry lmaoooo what a pair)

Alfa Romeo: Lucien & Jurian (DREAM)

This was actually too much fun 😂

#acotar x f1 #ask azsazz

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fernandoswarcrimes · 4 months

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𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓖𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽 𝓦𝓪𝓻

Summary: the one where they survive the Great War. - this is part four in the 𝓟𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓰𝓻𝓪𝓶 series. Word count: 3.1k Warnings: Dimitri and Alexei trying to play masterminds & Gracie’s parents being awful per usual. Upset Charles in this one I’m sorry guys💔 Note: part 5 will be just as eventful can you guess what will happen next?

Taglist: @pitchandgrid @yourmom-lmao @dessxoxsworld @yellowscuderia @buendiabebeta @stillbreathin @flyingmushroomss @moneymasnn@christianpulisic10 @pierre-gasssllyy @heavengirls111 @evans-dejong @hungryhungarian @glitterquadricorn @mariar31 @pitconfirmbutton @squirreljoe @livster @lightsoutletsgo @marelovesf1 @saturnsrinqs @mbappebby @kaliis-blog @fanfiction-666 @six-call @tbhidkbutok

Charles had gotten on the flight to England a few days later after Dimitri and Alexei visited him. Gracie’s letter tucked away in his bag. It had become a lifeline of sorts to him. He hadn’t gone anywhere without it after reading the words she had written to him. Making a promise to himself that he wouldn’t give up on finding her no matter what, and he could be quite stubborn about something when he put his mind to it, this was no different.

Thankfully once he got to the hotel he noticed the two people he needed to speak with standing in the lobby. Perfect.

“I need your help! Gracie got sent away and I think it might have been my fault.” Charles blurted out quickly once he made it over to Lance and Mick. A look of worry and shame on his face after uttering the words he still was trying to deny were true in his mind.

“What.” Lance asked blankly, not understanding a word of what Charles just said. Partially because he just wasn't listening and the other part being that it just sounded so unbelievable that he couldn't fathom it actually being true.

“Her parents…sent her away…because they didn’t want her to keep seeing me… and we kept seeing each other in secret. Pierre accidently posted the picture of the three of us on Instagram and got us caught..” Charles explained again slowly, hoping it would click for the Aston Martin driver now.

The dark haired Canadian just stared at the Monegasque driver for a few seconds. How dumb could the Ferrari driver actually be?

Pretty fucking dumb apparently.

Mick on the other hand just stood there silently looking between the two pursing his lips, partially because of Lance's inability to understand the simplest things and the other at the fact that nothing could ever be normal in Charles' life, something always had to go wrong.

“Oh my god, We need an adult.” Charles said, putting his hands on his hips in exasperation after neither boy said anything to help him, this was not going how he thought it would and he was turning into a little ball of stress and anxiety like a wet cat falling into a bathtub after scurrying too close to the edge. He was grasping at straws at this point.

“You are the adult here.” Mick pointed out looking at him confused on why they'd need someone else. It baffled him sometimes at how some of the older drivers did not act their age, Fernando especially. Godforbid if he acted like a teenager because Eris, His mother and Sebastian would jerk him by the ear until he acted right. Clearly the likes of Charles, Lando and Pierre never got the privilege of fearing their mother, big sister figure and second father like he had.

“I don’t count! We need a better one, an actual adult.” Charles denied, shaking his head he may be older than the two in front of him right now but he is not qualified for this. Then again who would be qualified for this he thought, how the fuck do you find a missing princess? He watched a lot of sad movies sure but he was positive none of them gave him insight on how to do this.

“Why don’t we call Seb? He’d know what to do?” Lance suggested finally giving his two cents on the matter, which caused Mick to look at him in disbelief at the suggestion. “No! Absolutely not, we are not calling him, call your dad.”

“Why do we have to call my dad?? Seb is the one with a level head!” Lance said throwing his hand out to make a point, the last thing he wanted to do was bother his dad even if he knew he’d drop everything to find Gracie as soon as he told him what had happened, his dad never liked Albert or Charlene.

“Because! Do you really want to sit through a two hour disappointment discussion about how this whole thing could’ve been avoided if Charles had just been smart about this?? Because now you’ve implicated me and I wasn’t even involved in Charles getting her sent away her parents actually like me thank you very much.” Mick said, putting his hands on his hips. He was not going down with this sinking ship; he would white knuckle grip his stubbornness like Captain Ahab trying to harpoon Moby Dick.

Charles had a look of offense on his face, he knew he had a hand in this but this was mostly her parents fault for not letting Gracie be happy. He was just in love. Was that such a crime? Her parents seemed to think it was and maybe it was, in some fucked up Royal protocol way, but don't she have the right to love who she wanted? This was not the 1830’s anymore. Nobody was getting married off to the highest bid? Especially not his Gracie, not if he and the rest of the grid had anything to say or do about it.

“Right, yeah, I’ll call my dad.” Lance finally sighed and said, pulling out his phone to call his dad to fix this. He cared about Gracie just as much as he did his own sister Chloe, they had known each other for years ever since his mother had made an outfit for an event Charlene was attending, both women leaving him and Gracie in the ballroom to galavant about and play.

As ten year olds would naturally do.

“What are you guys doing?” Max asked as he walked over to the three after seeing them huddled together in the hotel lobby. Initially what made him walk over was seeing Mick, who looked about ready to strangle Charles and Lance, which was odd because the quiet German boy hardly ever got mad but on the rare occasion when he did he looked like a spitting image of his father. So he had to be nosy and see what was going on. Obviously.

“Charles was seeing Gracie against her parents wishes so they sent her away and nobody knows where to.” Mick blurted out causing Charles to gasp and turn to look at the blonde boy. “Mick!” “What! You said it was Pierre’s fault! He’s the one who posted that Instagram story that got you guys caught!”

The Dutch boy just stood there, completely baffled by all of this gossip. “You let Pierre in on this?? And you didn’t tell me??” He asked his emotional support rival. “I helped you the first time Pierre screwed up.” He pointed out, a bit offended that Charles hadn’t asked him to keep this secret but instead went to Pierre who apparently blew it.

“I have had so much happen in just a few short weeks. Can you please cut me some slack Max.” Charles groaned, rubbing at his face because this was getting out of hand now.

“No.” The Red Bull driver said, crossing his arms. “Because you’re dumb. That was so dumb. You’ve done a lot of dumb shit but this has to take the cake.”

Lance suddenly hung up the phone after talking to his dad. “My dads on the case. He said he'd look into it and he's sure he can find her. Money always makes someone talk.”

Charles sighed in relief, had Lawrence said no, they would've been royally screwed in every literal sense.

“Right, so what have we learned?” Max asked, clasping his hands together as he looked over at Charles expectantly who just gave him a confused look. The Dutchman just gave him a flat unamused look. “Stop fucking telling Pierre shit. Tell me next time I can keep a secret.”

Charles just rolled his eyes exasperatedly because yes, he should've not told Pierre, but he wasn't thinking properly, clearly.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Further down in London, Gracie felt like her life was over.

In every dramatic sense a 23 year old girl could think of. She was forbidden to see the boy she was head over heels for, got sent away, and now was stripped of every sense of her being as punishment for continuing to see said boy.

Annalise didn't want to but did as Charlene and Albert asked and had Gracie's natural soft blonde hair dyed an auburn red. The only tell of her looking like her late grandmother Grace Kelley was her face and unmistakable blue eyes, they couldn't change that besides with colored contacts, which Albert and Charlene also ordered they get.

Her ocean blue eyes, now a dark oak brown.

She didn't even recognize the girl she was looking at in the mirror.

Annalise sighed as she rubbed the girls shoulders. “It will be alright Chèrie. Trust.” She hated how upset Gracie was but they had rules to follow, but if she knew one thing it was that love would prevail and that boy of hers would stop at nothing to see her. Young love always does the craziest things the more you push it. This most definitely wouldn't be the end of it all she was sure of it.

“Come, you have practice soon, must get your clothes on, I'll put your pointe shoes in your bag.”

Gracie sighed as she nodded, grabbing her practice clothes and went to change in the bathroom of their little apartment while the older woman went to put her shoes in her bag. She just hoped things would look up sooner rather than later.

In the midst of Silverstone weekend Lawrence had people scouring every Ballet school within the European region for the Monègasque girl. How hard could it be to find the princess? He had more than enough money that he knew someone would cave and start talking.

It didn't take long because just like he thought, a few hours later someone had come forward with information. There had been a generous anonymous donation to the Royal Ballet School in London the same time a transfer student was approved. Bingo.

He had the informant fax the file over, which gave him all the information he needed. A girl by the name of Cecily Marchesault was the said transfer, and by his luck a picture was in there as well. It didn't take a rocket scientist to deduce that the girl was Gracie in a disguise. Sure they could change her hair color and eye color but the girl had a very distinct button nose and rosy cheeks like that of her late grandmother.

During the early morning of Saturday he left things in the hand of his team principal under the guise he had some things to take care of. Said things were making the two hour drive down to London from the racetrack to pick up Gracie and Annalise.

Neither of them knew he was coming so what a shock it was for Annalise to open their apartment door on their way out after hearing a knock to see the Aston Martin owner.

“Lawrence?” Gracie asked rather confused but wide eyed, because this could only mean one thing, that people cared. That Charles got her letter. That everyone was looking for her. Charles was looking for her. She nearly burst into tears on the spot.

“Hey kid, Anna, mind if I come in and have a chat?” The older man asked, raising a brow, it wasn't exactly a question, it was more of a ‘we need to talk’ which Annalise understood and let him in.

It was a devious plan really, in the grand scheme of things because only Lawrence Stroll could get away with single handedly giving the prince and princess of Monaco the metaphorical middle finger by taking Gracie out of the ballet school and to an F1 track.

Remarkably hilarious, truly.

After the press conference Lance had quickly grabbed Charles by the arm as he was talking to Max and pulled him to the Aston Martin garage without giving a reason as to why. Charles being Charles would not shut up and kept wondering why Lance was dragging him off.

“Dude I told you, you'll see when we get there.” The Canadian driver sighed loudly as he pressed the button that slid open the Aston Martin's Motorhome as he pulled Charles inside and up to the little lounge area. His dad had entrusted him with grabbing the Ferrari prince after getting Gracie to Silverstone.

There, looking out at the race track was the all too familiar bubbly, now auburn haired princess, talking with Annalise pointing things out as she excitedly spoke in a hushed tone.

“Gracie?” Charles whispered wide eyed as he froze next to Lance. He was in shock, he couldn't believe that Lawrence pulled it off and got her back. He thought he was seeing a ghost till she whirled around with that all too familiar dimpled smile he had gotten so used to seeing in the time they had spent together.

“Charlie?” Gracie gasped excitedly as she heard Annalise laugh softly as both kids quickly made their way over pulling each other into a tight embrace. It was straight out of an emotional rom com. The guy finally gets the girl after all the trials and tribulations.

“Oh my god I thought I'd never see you again.” Charles whispered emotionally as he held her close. Everything just felt right now. He had his little starlight back. “I was so scared for you. Dimitri and Alexei found me and told me what happened. I'm sorry. I never meant for that to happen I should've known Pierre would've-”

His rambling was cut off by her gently reaching up and cupping his face. “Charles, it's not your fault. Okay? It's not your fault. I'm okay, I'm back now and nothing will ever take me away from you again I promise and when I promise something, I never ever break that promise.” She spoke. And she meant that. She was done abiding by her parents' rules.

“Ever since you bumped into me that day, I've belonged to you; all you had to do was look at me with those big blue eyes like the sea and my heart was a goner.” Charles whispered as he looked down at her and that wasn't a lie, it was like fate had made them bump into each other that day and from that day forth a single thread of uncuttable gold had tied him to her like an invisible string.

Gracie smiled as she reached for his hand, their fingers interlocked together so easily like it was meant to be. His hand was the one she reached for all throughout this war-like endeavor. She felt safe with him, alive, like all the stars had finally aligned and she could actually be who she wanted to be not who she was told to be.

“What have they done to your hair?” Charles whispered with a pout as his free hand reached up to touch the once soft blonde hair that was now the color of autumn leaves. It made him sad that her parents put her through such things just to hide her away.

“It's alright Charlie, Chloe said she'd take me to get it fixed after the race this weekend.” Gracie smiled softly, it warmed her heart he cared so much about something trivial like that. He knew how much her hair meant to her, it reminded her of her grandmother, but seeing her smile caused him to smile back at her. He couldn't help it really; her smile was contagious. He was always smiley and giddy around her, not that anyone could blame him, they were guilty of it too.

Lance just shook his head as his dad came up to stand next to him shaking his head as well as he watched the two. He hadn't seen a love like that in a while, not since Chloe married Scott. He had a feeling these two would be next at some point. If not he was going to hatch a plan with the grid to make it happen that was for sure because if anybody deserved to be happy and married it was Gracie. Whenever she so chose to want that, if she even wanted it. But after knowing her for so many years he knew she secretly did, the whole shebang white dress and all.

“You're welcome by the way kid.” Lawrence called out to Charles with a small half grin trying not to show how happy he was, he was still trying to keep up the stoic appearance and failing. “The things I do for you kids, thank god I'm already gray headed.” He sighed dramatically. “Best get back to your garage soon though, practice is starting soon. Wouldn't want you to be late and have Ferrari up in arms that their prince is missing god forbid we have another missing Royal situation.”

Charles nodded to Lance as he pouted slightly, he didn't want to leave Gracie now that he just got her back but he knew he had to go back to his own garage sooner or later.

Gracie turned to Lawrence with her best puppy dog look causing the mafia boss-like man to hold up his hand and close his eyes immediately so as to not see the look she was giving him. “You can go, just take Annalise with you, and please don't wander off.”

“Yes! Okay deal!” The blonde Royal excitedly grabbed Charles hand and the two were instantly off causing Annalise to sigh as she shook her head following after the two younger kids. “Kids these days.”

“I know.” Lawrence shook his head with a sigh of his own knowing his own son was a handful but seeing the two dart across the paddock hand in hand back to the Italian garage, Annalise quickly trailing after them like a mother hen chasing after her baby chicks made him hope at least that this was the last of the drama for a while.

But he knew as well as everyone else that it was simply wishful thinking.

All isn't fair in love and racing, that much was true. But would it turn into something bigger now? Somewhere in the haze someone will get betrayed especially once Gracie's parents find out that their daughter is starting to defy orders putting the eight century ruling monarchy in jeopardy of ending with them.

#imagine #formula 1 #series #charles leclerc #princess protection program #charles leclerc x oc #Charles Leclerc series #f1 x oc au #oc series #charles leclerc imagine #royal au series #Monaco Royal series #the great war #Charles Leclerc mini series #formula one imagine #forumla one oc #f1 fanfic #royal au

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ysmtttty · 1 day

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Red Ferrari

Chapter 12

Summary: Azris AU, where Azriel is a mechanic and has his own service station. One day, Eris comes there because something is wrong with his car

AO3 link Chapter 11 Chapter 13

Eris felt like he was in some strange calm before the storm. If you could even call it calm, considering that literally a week ago, his still-wife had broken into his apartment. However, there had been no news from Keir or Beron. Maybe that was for the best.

He and Azriel had talked about Mor's visit. Eris had also asked since when Azriel knew how to pick locks and why he thought teaching Mor that skill was a good idea. Azriel just shrugged and cryptically said he was good with his hands. When asked about Mor, he sighed and said that as a teenager, he really wanted to impress her, which was hard given their financial differences.

Now, Azriel had returned to work at the workshop, and coincidentally, Eris's car had broken down again, right in the middle of a workday. How unlucky!

"Do you think you can fix it?" Eris smirked, watching as Azriel examined the car with a look of annoyance, having already complained a thousand times that Eris was distracting him from his real work.

"I don’t know, the car’s a wreck. I’d recommend leaving it here and just buying a new one," Azriel said sarcastically. Eris only chuckled.

"Why do I get the feeling you just want to steal my Aston Martin?"

"Because I plan to," Azriel smiled, turning to face him with his arms crossed.

From the first day, Eris had loved how Azriel looked in that overalls, worn over a white tank top with one of the straps constantly slipping down. There was something undeniably hot about it, especially with his hair tousled and beads of sweat on his forehead when he worked on something.

During their first meeting, Eris tried hard not to stare at Azriel. He failed miserably, but back then, he could easily mask it with arrogance. To be fair, he was a bit of a smug bastard at the time. Not that much has changed.

"So, what was wrong with the car again?" Azriel asked as Eris reached into the pocket of his oil-stained overalls, pulling out the garage keys.

Eris shrugged nonchalantly, though there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "The engine was making strange sounds." He paused, glancing at the car, then back at Azriel. "Funny how they stopped the moment I got here."

"Funny indeed," Azriel murmured, his gaze sharpening as Eris pressed the key fob, and the hum of the automatic garage doors echoed through the small space. The metal panels descended slowly, their groaning mechanism closing off the outside world.

Azriel raised an eyebrow in question, while Eris distractedly played with the strap of his overalls, one that had fallen loose on his shoulder. With deliberate slowness, he pulled the second strap down, letting the overalls hang low around his waist.

"When did you say your colleague is coming back?" Eris mumbled as Azriel tried to focus and figure out what he had just asked.

Colleague. Right, Cassian. Cassian had gone on his lunch break about half an hour ago. Considering he had driven to the other side of the city just because Nesta agreed to have lunch with him during her break, it could take him quite a while.

"Not for a while," Azriel replied, his voice dipping lower as he stepped closer. His hands reached out, settling at Eris’s waist. And Eris smiled as Azriel leaned in, closing the distance between them and kissing him hungrily.

Azriel's fingers were already busy, working on the buckle of Eris’s belt, tugging it free with practiced ease. The click of the belt coming undone echoed faintly.

Eris's breath hitched slightly as Azriel’s fingers slid lower, pulling down his pants. "Do you give all your clients this kind of service?" Eris teased, though his voice was rougher now, betraying the heat simmering just beneath his cocky exterior.

"Only to the very, very special ones," he muttered as he dropped to his knees, focusing more on the growing desire to take Eris into his mouth.

Azriel pulled down his underwear, Eris's cock sprang free, already hard, and his eyes widened, full of greed, his tongue licking his lips.

"God, you’re such a slut, aren’t you?" Eris taunted, his hand reaching out to grab Azriel’s hair in a firm grip. "So desperate, wanting me to fuck your mouth."

Azriel’s lips parted, his mouth warm and inviting as Eris pushed forward, his cock sliding in slowly, the sensation making them both gasp. Eris’s eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment, overwhelmed by the heat of Azriel’s mouth.

Eris let out a low hiss, feeling Azriel adjust, taking him in fully. In response, Azriel flicked his tongue around before hollowing out his cheeks, and Eris cursed. He took him deep, looking up at him with drool pooling at the corners of his mouth. And for fuck’s sake, it was the most beautiful sight.

Eris began to thrust gently at first, but it wasn’t long before the rhythm grew more demanding. His hips snapped forward, unable to hold back as he began fucking Azriel’s mouth with abandon. Azriel’s hands gripped his hips, leaving crescent-shaped marks on his pale skin as he eagerly took what Eris gave, his body straining to please.

Suddenly, they heard the sound of a car door slamming outside.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, why the hell was Cassian back so early? Azriel paused, his hands twitched, ready to push away and get up, but Eris’s grip tightened in his hair, holding him in place.

"Who told you to stop?" he hissed, his voice rough and breathless, his eyes dark with lust. Azriel’s mind spun from those words, his heart pounding wildly as the heat between his legs intensified.

Without hesitation, Azriel resumed, his mouth wrapping around Eris’s cock again with renewed fervor. Eris's pace grew harsher, more brutal, and Azriel’s gagging was more frequent now, his throat tight and slick as he continued to take Eris in.

"Such a good boy, Azriel," Eris rasped, his voice hoarse as he neared his peak. His thrusts were erratic, desperate now, and he slammed into the back of Azriel’s throat again and again until he came with a muffled groan, biting down on his hand to stifle the noise.

Azriel swallowed greedily, his lips slick as he pulled off slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Az! Why are you locked in?" Cassian’s voice came from outside the garage door, but he had the good sense not to open it.

Eris let out a breathy chuckle, amused at the situation, as he watched Azriel hastily fix himself up, wiping his face and straightening his shirt. Eris, on the other hand, took his time, adjusting his clothes without any rush, clearly entertained by Azriel’s frantic movements.

Azriel shot him a displeased look when he noticed the amused glint in his eyes, clearly not finding the situation quite as humorous.

“I swear to God, Eris,” Azriel muttered under his breath, earning another teasing smile from him.

“Worth it,” Eris whispered with a wink.

Azriel glared at him, his lips twitching in irritation as he tried to compose himself, and Eris simply smirked, leaning back against the car with a smug grin.

"Next time," Azriel hissed, voice low and dangerous, "I’ll fuck you when you can be as loud as you want."

Eris only chuckled, his chest still heaving from the exertion. "I’ll hold you to that."

Azriel gave him one last glance, filled with a mix of annoyance and lingering desire, before grabbing the keys and heading for the garage door before Cassian could recall that he had his own keys. He wiped his mouth quickly, trying to appear composed

Eris only chuckled, watching him trying to act all composed in front of his friend. He leaned back, watching the scene unfold with amusement. It had been worth every second, risking getting caught.

A few minutes later, Eris’s phone rang, and he saw Lucien’s name on the display. Thinking Lucien either needed money, a car, or bail, Eris prepared to say no firmly before Lucien even started trying to convince him.

But this time, things were different. Lucien answered the phone with maximum seriousness in his voice and asked if Eris could talk. That idiot hadn’t asked if he could talk a year ago when he called Eris at 3 AM because he and Jurian had climbed a tree in some elderly couple’s yard on a dare just because there were cherries, and those two drunks really wanted some. They were arrested that night, and Lucien had no remorse in his voice when he called Eris to bail them out.

So, his seriousness now was extremely worrying.

"What happened?" Eris frowned, his mind racing to figure out what it could be. Please don’t let it be about Aurora’s health, or his brothers, or some new bullshit his father decided to throw at Helion and Aurora out of boredom just because that old bastard could. Anything but family.

"Beron’s flying here," Lucien said, and Eris gripped the phone tighter. Life clearly hated him and wasn’t interested in listening to his requests. "Adrian just called me."

Their brother, who, for some unknown reasons beyond financial gain, had chosen to work for their father’s company, often informed the rest of the family of Beron’s movements. Eris always called him the little spy, which irritated Adrian and prompted him to remind Eris that he wasn’t seven anymore. Still, the nickname stuck with him and all his brothers used it much to his discontent.

"Maybe it’s just a business meeting," Eris muttered, trying to convince himself more than his younger brother.

"Adrian’s not sure," Lucien replied. "But you should know he will be here."

"Thanks. And thank Adrian too."

"Eris, let me know if anything happens."

Eris didn’t bother to offer an insincere promise like "yeah, sure" or something similar. He wouldn’t do it anyway, so lying to his younger brother just to temporarily ease his mind felt pointless. After all, Eris had explained the situation with Keir in very, very vague terms, heavily glossing over the details because Lucien didn’t need to know everything.

The less you know, the better you sleep. That’s why his younger brother slept until noon, while Eris was on the verge of chronic insomnia.

"Something wrong?" Azriel’s voice broke through as he returned, his smile fading a little when he saw the troubled look on Eris’s face.

Eris’s first instinct was to lie. To brush it off, make a joke, anything. Hide everything and try to figure it out on his own, because that’s how he’d always operated. His brain reflexively came up with a good excuse, convenient and plausible, ready to slip from his tongue.

But Eris stopped himself. They had promised each other honesty, and he, in particular, had vowed not to hide the important parts of his life from Azriel. His father’s arrival, as much as he wished otherwise, definitely fell into the category of major problems.

"It’s family stuff," he sighed, putting his phone back in his pocket. "I’ll tell you tonight."

That was the most Eris could offer right now. At least now he was committed to telling Azriel. Azriel didn’t press him or ask any further questions. Instead, he just kissed him, cupping his cheeks with both hands.

"Then I’ll see you tonight," Azriel whispered. Eris could only nod.

After that, he went back to work because, well, the workday wasn’t going to cancel itself.

Eris tried not to think about the possibility that, upon entering his office, he might find his father there, inspecting the books on his shelves or rummaging through the papers on his desk as if they belonged to him. In Beron Vanserra's world, everything, absolutely everything, belonged to Beron Vanserra.

Just as easily, he could have been at Eris' apartment or somewhere else, lurking in the shadows like a predator, ready to strike at the most opportune moment. Eris wished he could say that over the years he had not only learned to expect such attacks but also knew how to handle them. However, that would have been a lie. Beron’s appearance anywhere was always unexpected and unpleasant for him, and knowing that his father was currently in the city only heightened his paranoia. But even that wouldn't save him.

Fortunately, Eris' father wasn’t in his office. After asking his assistant if anyone had come by looking for him while he was out, wary that Beron might have sent someone, he received a negative reply. Only then did he breathe a sigh of relative relief.

Until the end of the workday, Eris occasionally glanced at the door as if expecting it to burst open at any moment. He wanted to be ready, to anticipate the danger and not be caught off guard.

Eris texted Azriel, suggesting they meet at Azriel's place instead of risking the dangerous theory that Beron might be in his penthouse. Azriel agreed, warning him not to expect a five-star hotel experience and offering to make dinner. One problem down.

Beron didn’t visit often. Over the years, his visits could be counted on one hand. Eris, of course, might not have been aware of all his father's appearances, as some could have been strictly for business meetings. But in the instances he did know about, Beron had sought him out. "Favorite son," Eris always thought sarcastically.

He hated it with every fiber of his being. The mere thought that he was indeed the only child Beron acknowledged in any way filled him with disgust and nausea. Even Adrian, who worked for their father, mentioned that Beron rarely recognized him as anything more than the financial director of the branch he managed.

But no one was waiting for him in the empty parking lot, and everything seemed quiet. Eris didn’t risk driving his car, leaving it at the office instead, and took a taxi to Azriel's place. He arrived without any incidents.

Climbing the stairs, Eris was still calculating his next steps when one of the apartment doors opened, revealing Azriel. Dressed casually, covered in some sort of stain, and smiling.

“How does Your Majesty manage without an elevator?” he quipped, and Eris merely rolled his eyes as he followed him inside.

“I’m ready to become a sponsor of this complex if it means they’ll install an elevator,” Eris replied as he removed his coat and shoes.

Azriel led them to the kitchen, where a delightful smell reminded Eris that all he’d had today was coffee.

“Nice place,” Eris muttered, looking around.

It was his first time in Azriel’s apartment, and it was pretty much what he had expected. Eris glanced around at the small space with old, peeling wallpaper, and some damaged furniture—it was, in a word, a place with character. He genuinely tried to be supportive, but...

“Okay, how do you live here?” The question slipped out before he could soften it.

Azriel, clearly used to this by now, laughed and rolled his eyes. It would have been foolish to expect any other reaction from Eris, but Azriel found it amusing to watch him try not to be too critical or sarcastic about his home.

“It’s just a rental,” Azriel shrugged, helping Eris out of his jacket. “I’m only here to sleep.”

“You could afford something better,” Eris said, wrinkling his nose.

“I could,” Azriel agreed. “But I’ve been living here for so many years, and I’m too lazy to move anywhere else. Too much hassle—finding a place, negotiating with the landlord, making sure they’re not a jerk, moving all my stuff…”

Eris snorted and kissed him, Azriel smiling into the kiss, his hand slipping into Eris' hair and gently squeezing.

“Speaking of things that annoy us,” Azriel grinned, “let’s talk about your suits.”

Laughing, Eris just rolled his eyes. “Is that your subtle way of telling me to undress?”

“Actually, I was going to offer you a change of clothes, but if you’re so eager, I won’t object.”

Soon after, Eris was sitting in Azriel’s t-shirt and lounge pants in the kitchen while Azriel worked at the stove. As Azriel stood with his back to him, dodging the occasional splatter of hot oil from the pan, Eris tugged the collar of the shirt closer, inhaling the scent. It was then that he realized just how far gone he was.

As strange as it was for him, part of Eris wanted to linger in this moment for as long as possible. Even though Azriel’s living conditions didn’t suit him at all—he could swear he saw something suspiciously rat-like in the bathroom, though Azriel insisted he was just being dramatic—he simply sat there, watching Azriel expertly cook their dinner. They would eat together, probably just talking about how their day went. And that’s what he wanted. More than anything else.

In recent days, all Eris could think about at work wasn’t how to close a deal with partners or how to seal a case with a bang to boost his reputation but the fact that after work, he would see Azriel.

And it no longer scared him. If before it was something unknown and seemingly dangerous, something he had to quickly build walls around and guard himself against until it was too late, now it was still uncharted territory, but without the feeling of danger.

“What are you thinking about?” Azriel snapped him out of his thoughts by tapping his nose after setting the plates on the table, noticing Eris’ pensive expression. Eris wrinkled his nose and lightly kicked him under the table.

“About the rat in your bathroom.”

Azriel rolled his eyes and simply handed him a fork, pushing the plate closer. Eris smiled slightly, doing his best not to devour the food all at once. He still had manners, even though his last meal was who knows when.

“Do you still want to talk about why you left the workshop like you saw a ghost?” Azriel gently reminded him a little later. The plates were empty, wine was in their glasses, and they sat on the couch—Eris had refused to sit on it until he’d gotten three reassurances that there were no bedbugs.

And so, they approached the topic Eris had been hoping to avoid. But he was an adult and had learned from his mistakes, so he knew avoiding it was the last thing he should do in this situation.

“My father came to the city,” he said quietly, setting his glass down on the coffee table and stretching out on the couch with his head on Azriel’s lap, looking up at him. “Not the most pleasant man, if you remember. So I’ve been on edge the past few hours, trying to figure out why he’s here and if I should be panicking.”

With the explanations about the divorce and the original idea of a marriage of convenience, Azriel should already have formed some impression of just what kind of jerk Beron Vanserra was. And Eris could tell by the hint of anger that passed over Azriel’s face as his hand absentmindedly played with Eris’ hair.

“Welcome to the ‘share your childhood trauma’ evening,” Eris commented sarcastically.

“This time, I can honestly say you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Azriel replied calmly.

“Sorry, but I’ve been mentally preparing for this conversation for hours, and I’m afraid you won’t get another chance.”

Azriel chuckled, and Eris smiled, looking up at him.

“If I’d known, I would’ve opened a bottle of something stronger,” Azriel said. “Or at least mentally prepared for some trauma-dumping of my own, to make it fair.”

Eris just snorted. “I wouldn’t dare ask.”

And… they talked. Eris told him a little about his father, about the unfair divorce where his mother got custody of all the children except him. Eris had partial custody—weekends with his mother and the rest of the time with his father. About some details of what it was like to live under the same roof with Beron Vanserra. About how while all his brothers lived peacefully with their mother and stepfather, Eris was graced with such generosity only on weekends. Azriel listened to it all, his hand continuing to run through Eris' hair in a way that was strangely grounding.

Eris had never thought he needed pity. He truly didn’t. He told all of this in a matter-of-fact tone, just trying to explain why exactly his father’s arrival here was a big deal, not in search of sympathy. But there was something about Azriel’s quiet anger that flickered across his face with every added detail that made him continue to talk. Something about Azriel’s mere presence made Eris more honest, made him want to tell everything himself.

That was when the first bottle of wine was finished. Eris’s energy along with it, as he began to drift off while Azriel changed the topic, distracting him and telling him about new engines running on some impractical fuel type that he hated working with, knowing Eris wouldn’t understand a thing anyway.

The next day, Eris would have liked to spend the same way, but a message came about a meeting, with only the place and time mentioned. No further clarification was needed to know who the sender was.

At the dreaded hour, in the designated place—a simple café in an upscale area, not particularly notable but still fitting their “status” so Beron wouldn’t take offense—Eris was there. He took his seat across from his father, who calmly sipped tea as if such meetings were a regular occurrence for them.

They sat in silence for a moment, the tension thick in the air. Eris could feel his father’s eyes on him, studying him, perhaps gauging his reaction or testing him, as he always did. Eris resisted the urge to fidget, keeping his posture relaxed, even though inside, his mind was racing.

“You wanted to see me, Father,” Eris began, hoping to start the conversation and end it quickly.

"You’re almost divorced," Beron said, raising his cold, calculating gaze at Eris, his eyes narrowed slightly, always assessing something. Eris hated how often he caught himself looking at people the same way.

"Is this some sort of final warning not to do it?" Eris asked, arching a brow, pretending his heart wasn’t about to pound right out of his chest. There was something ingrained deep within him, always surfacing when he was in his father's presence, even though Beron couldn’t harm him now—at least not physically and not in public.

Beron just stared at him, not rushing to continue. Perhaps that was part of his plan, too—to make Eris anxious, to push him to make a mistake. Every interaction with his father was, in some way, a test.

"No, it is not," Beron finally said. He held a pause before adding, "Keir won’t be a problem anymore."

Eris merely shrugged as if he had already expected this outcome. Although he did feel a weight lift off his chest, he couldn’t help but wonder if this meant that Keir was simply dead. That was the way his father solved problems.

"Thoughts on your marriage to Morrigan?" Beron suddenly asked, watching him expectantly.

Narrowing his eyes, Eris tried to figure out what kind of answer his father was fishing for. It probably wasn’t something like, ‘Those four years were like an emotional rollercoaster and living with a childish brat.’ His father only cared about money and the stability of the company, so his answer had to reflect that.

"Not much profit for our family," Eris said bluntly. "At least, none that I’m aware of. There were more effective options at the time. Morrigan’s family brings no real benefit, and their name is far less influential than ours since they’re from a lesser branch of a more powerful family."

Beron smirked, his lips stretching into something resembling a smile. "Looks like I raised you right."

There was a hint of pride in his voice, something Eris didn’t want to acknowledge. Of all the things he might have wanted, his father’s approval was at the very bottom of the list.

"If I’m right, then why?" Eris asked for the first time, realizing this might be his only chance. He had never dared to ask, remembering how their first and last conversation about the engagement had ended, and he was in no hurry to repeat that experience.

"Amarantha," his father replied simply, letting the name settle in the air.

In the ensuing silence, Beron calmly signaled for the waiter to bring more tea. The young man hurried off to the kitchen, clearly rattled, perhaps sensing the danger in the man before him. Eris watched with indifference, not particularly interested in whether his father had scared the boy before arriving or if the waiter was just sharp enough to realize who he was dealing with.

"You invested a lot of your investors’ money in her... business," Eris struggled to suppress his disgust at the word. Amarantha’s business involved too many illegal activities. Human trafficking was just one of them, and her methods were notoriously brutal.

Even as a teenager, Eris had felt sick at the mere mention of her name, yet his father had still tied himself to her dealings, investing company money behind their investors’ backs. Amarantha was a bitch, Eris had seen her once when she visited their home to speak with his father personally. She looked around like she already owned the place and like he was just a pest when all he said was ‘hello’ out of mere politeness that he forced out of himself.

She wanted to demonstrate her power and influence, while all Eris wanted was to stay polite and a crazy woman out of his house. But she stayed for longer, his father and she sat together, sipping coffee as if discussing the weather rather than the sale of illegal goods and the percentage of profit Beron expected to receive.

"It was a mistake," Beron said, chuckling without mirth, as if in regret.

But Eris knew better. His father wasn’t truly remorseful, he was just disappointed that the venture hadn’t brought in the profits he had anticipated. In the end, the whole affair resulted in substantial losses due to the arrests of several key partners, a police investigation that almost linked their family to the dirt, and the murder of Amarantha herself. Whoever ordered her death remained unknown, but Eris was ready to thank them, whoever they were.

"It was supposed to stay confidential," Beron continued, a note of anger creeping into his voice, sending a chill down Eris’ spine. Just instinct, nothing more—a reflex developed in childhood. "But somehow, the information reached Keir."

"Did he blackmail you?" Eris asked, frowning in disbelief. Beron’s face twisted in anger even more.

"The bastard did. And that kind of information wouldn’t just mean trouble with the police, son," Beron said as if Eris didn’t know that himself. "It would scare off all our investors, all our partners. Do you know how long it took me to wash away even the rumors? Imagine what would happen if Keir gave them all the evidence."

Nothing good, clearly. There was also a chance that whoever had ordered Amarantha’s murder might have come for his father, too. Given that all her partners were killed in prison within months of their arrests, the risks were indeed high. And despite his brave front, Beron didn’t want to die—he was, in fact, quite afraid of it.

"So Keir had leverage over you," Eris finally said, his voice low and steady. "And his demand was a marriage between his daughter and me, to gain more resources from our family."

Beron only nodded slightly, confirming his right assumption. It made sense; Keir had debts, and Beron had enough resources to help with that, the bastard just found the right thing to use to gain them.

"Why didn’t you deal with him sooner?" Eris couldn’t help but ask. Even if it was blackmail about Amarantha, it surely couldn’t last that long.

Beron exhaled with visible irritation. "Keir is a clever son of a bitch. He knew that the information about Amarantha wouldn’t be enough, and while I was destroying the copies..."

"He found something else," Eris finished for him. "But he is no longer a problem." He repeated his father’s own words, and the unspoken meaning was clear.

Beron didn’t answer immediately. He took a slow sip of his tea, savoring it before setting the cup down with deliberate care. His eyes met Eris’s, always calculating.

"Keir’s... ambition exceeded his abilities," Beron said indifferently. "He thought he could play the game, but he underestimated the consequences. People like him always do. Unfortunately, they’re also as tenacious as cockroaches."

Eris frowned, realizing that the last remark wasn’t just an assessment of Keir’s survival skills, unless…

"How did you ensure he won’t be a problem?" he asked, and a small smile of twisted pride appeared on Beron’s face, as though Eris had finally asked the right question.

"You’re an adult, Eris," his father said, setting his cup down with a clink. "Did you really think I would clean up your mess? I did my part, knowing you had no idea the danger you put our family in with your impulsive actions. But from now on, you’ll handle things yourself. You’ll deal with Keir with my little push in the right direction." Beron ordered. It wasn’t a suggestion—it was a direct command, one that left no room for error. "And when you do, you’ll let me know."

Eris didn’t want to respond, but he nodded anyway. He had no desire to carry out any assignments, especially those involving violence and manipulation. He was good at the latter—some might even say Eris was a natural—but violence wasn’t his forte. He avoided it whenever possible, but if dealing with Keir was on the table, it might be inevitable.

"That being said," Beron suddenly added before Eris could say anything further, "as much as I think you were an idiot for defying me and nearly finalizing your divorce from Keir’s daughter without my knowledge, it shows that you’re not as lost as I thought. You even managed to keep it hidden from me for a decent amount of time. Good job. At least in this, you haven’t disappointed me."

Eris froze. He stared dumbly at his father, who had never once come close to offering praise. ‘Good job?’ Seriously? This was the same man who used to throw him against walls like a ragdoll for the slightest mistakes. The man who sent him to bed without dinner if, as a child, he grabbed the wrong fork. The man who, as far as Eris could tell, hated him as much as he hated everyone else.

Yet here he was, offering praise. Not just for something business-related, which might have made some sense, but for defying his father. For pushing forward with the divorce behind Beron’s back.

At least in this, you haven’t disappointed me. Eris almost scoffed, but he held back. His father had a way of landing a verbal punch, and apparently, all it took to earn the old bastard’s respect was defying his direct orders. Who knew?

Yet, his father’s words felt like bait, luring him into a game he hadn’t agreed to play—a game where every move could mean survival or destruction. The sudden praise, coming from a man who had only ever torn him down, felt like a threat disguised as approval.

Beron leaned back in his chair, eyes gleaming with a twisted satisfaction. "You’ve proven you can act independently, make decisions without my hand guiding you. But," he paused, voice hardening, "don’t let that go to your head. Defiance has its limits, and you're far from invincible."

Eris bit back the retort on the tip of his tongue. Every instinct told him to push back, to reject the game outright. But rejecting Beron now would be walking into a war he wasn’t sure he could win.

"You don’t need to remind me," Eris said finally, his voice level but edged with caution. "I understand what’s at stake."

"Do you?" Beron’s smile twisted further, something dark behind his gaze. "This isn’t just about Keir. It’s about making sure the mistakes you’ve already made don’t unravel everything I’ve built. One wrong step, Eris, and I won’t be that understanding anymore."

Eris’s stomach tightened, the weight of his father’s words sinking in like lead. Every time he thought he had some grasp on the situation, Beron managed to tighten the noose, reminding him how thin the ice truly was beneath his feet. The room felt colder, the silence that followed Beron’s threat louder than it should have been.

After the meeting, Eris felt a headache. He was planning to return to the penthouse and just sleep until morning, but Azriel had texted him, offering to pick him up, knowing Eris had left his apartment by taxi. He didn’t object.

“How did it go?” Azriel asked as they drove toward his apartment.

Eris didn’t ask to be taken to the penthouse, realizing he didn’t want to be alone today. And maybe his apartment no longer felt as safe after everything that had happened. Not that it scared him, considering that everyone who had broken in was now no longer a threat, according to his father. But the associations with that place were now unpleasant. Perhaps he should move somewhere else, at least for a while.

He pondered Azriel’s question for a moment. How had the meeting gone? Chaotic, awful, good. Contradictory. Eris didn’t want to burden Azriel with his problems, but he felt like he needed to give context on what was going on in his life. Still, it was a big talk and not the one he preferred to have right now.

“As expected,” Eris said instead, giving a faint smile as Azriel’s hand landed on his thigh in a comforting gesture. “I’m just glad it’s over.”

Was it over? Eris didn’t want to think about that. Not now, when all he wanted was to return home and spend another evening in Azriel’s company. Azriel, who had remarkably understood his mood, didn’t ask any more questions, driving them home in silence.

Once back in the apartment, Eris took a shower, putting on the borrowed shirt and pants again while Azriel pulled out some groceries from the fridge, methodically laying them out on the kitchen counter.

“What are you cooking?” Eris asked, coming closer and pressing his nose to Azriel’s neck, inhaling the familiar scent.

“Actually, I thought tonight we could cook together,” Azriel smiled at him, clearly enjoying the way Eris’s expression shifted from calm to confused, and then to full-on disgust at the idea.

“And why would I do that?” Eris asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s a good way for you to relax,” Azriel informed him as they stood there, with Eris giving an unimpressed look at the pack of pasta.

“With all due respect, Azriel, I can think of other ways to relax,” Eris said, putting the pack aside and reaching for the waistband of Azriel’s pants. “Much more interesting ones.” But Azriel stubbornly moved his hands away, smirking.

“Nope, I’m going to enjoy making you suffer,” he said with a grin. “It’s just cooking dinner, Eris.”

“Dinner that we could easily order,” Eris scoffed in response, glancing again at the pasta as if it personally offended him.

Azriel flicked him on the forehead and reached for the kettle, filling it for the pot. The idea of teaching Eris to cook had come to Azriel spontaneously—earlier that morning, in fact, when he watched his boyfriend fumble around the kitchen trying to figure out how to turn on the gas stove just to heat the kettle.

“Cooking is a basic skill,” Azriel argued while Eris stood there, grumpily watching him, clearly trying to show how much he disliked the whole situation.

“And?”

“And you should know how to do it.”

“People around me should know how to do it,” Eris corrected. “And as luck would have it, you’re with me, aren’t you?” He made a step back with a clear intention to leave the kitchen.

Azriel rolled his eyes, pulled him back by the waist after those words, and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. Despite all his protests, Eris stayed in the kitchen, standing there and watching as Azriel chopped vegetables. He made no attempt to help but also didn’t try to escape again.

“Wanna try?” Azriel offered, stepping aside from the cutting board, giving Eris some space. Eris, with a skeptical look, eyed the half-chopped carrot on the board and, with the expression of a martyr, took the knife from Azriel’s hand.

“Happy now?” he huffed as he awkwardly began to cut the vegetables. Considering that Eris had never had to cook for himself in his life, his attempts were abysmally poor.

Azriel watched for a few minutes as Eris struggled, barely able to contain his laughter. Eris shot him a look that silenced the laughter for a moment, but after a few more failed attempts to grip the knife properly, Azriel grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

“Okay, I admit, maybe you should stay away from the kitchen,” Azriel couldn’t hold back his laughter again. Eris wanted to glare at him in annoyance, but that annoyance quickly melted when Azriel kissed him on the neck, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“I warned you,” Eris said. “I’m allergic to kitchens.”

“It’s fixable,” Azriel whispered in his ear, nibbling at his earlobe before pulling back a bit. Before Eris could protest, Azriel positioned himself behind him, his hands covering Eris’ hands.

For a moment, it reminded Eris of their second date at the pool table. But back then, he hadn’t been afraid of appearing like a bad player, simply because he wasn’t one. It had been fun to let Azriel teach him, to guide his body. Here, though, he was completely clueless.

Azriel guided one of his hands to the crooked, oversized tomato slice, adjusted his grip on the knife with the other hand, and brought it closer.

“Like this,” he said calmly, still with a hint of a laugh in his voice. He directed Eris’ hands, helping him slice the vegetables. It still wasn’t perfect, but much better than before.

“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” Eris grumbled.

First, Azriel was standing too close, and with each word his breath brushed against Eris’ neck, making it impossible to focus on anything but his voice and his proximity. Second, Eris absolutely hated getting his hands dirty, especially with vegetables. Third, he still didn’t understand why they were doing this. For all his actions, Eris always needed a logical reason. This time, he couldn’t find a single one.

“Because, according to studies, cooking reduces stress.”

“You made that up.”

“Yes, I made that up.”

Eris scoffed. Nevertheless, they finished chopping all the vegetables, and Azriel finally stepped away, ceasing to distract him with his hands.

“Now what, chef?” Eris asked teasingly, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Now we cook,” Azriel said, flashing a grin as he stepped back toward the stove, turning on the burner with a quick flick of his wrist. The soft whoosh of the flame filled the quiet kitchen, and for a moment, Eris found himself focusing on that sound rather than his previous irritation.

Azriel moved around the kitchen with ease, comfortable in the space. He tossed a little olive oil into a pan and then added the minced meat, frying it for a while before, with a knowing glance at Eris, handing him the bowl of chopped vegetables.

“Your turn,” he said softly, with a little wink.

Eris stared down at the bowl like it held some kind of mystery, but eventually sighed, stepping closer and hesitantly tipping the vegetables into the pan. The sizzling noise was immediate.

“Just stir them a bit,” Azriel said as he handed Eris a wooden spoon.

Eris took the spoon awkwardly, giving the vegetables a tentative stir. His movements were stiff, hesitant as if he expected the food to rebel at any second, but Azriel’s quiet presence behind him made the task feel a little less daunting.

He tried to appear annoyed that he was still there, doing all this. But in fact, the warmth of Azriel at his back, combined with the soft crackle of the stove, created a strange sense of comfort. The earlier irritation started to fade, replaced by something warmer, more intimate.

Azriel stepped away momentarily to check the pasta, leaving Eris to stir the vegetables on his own. And though it still felt foreign, he didn’t feel quite as lost as before. He found himself falling into a gentle rhythm, stirring the pan while the scent of sautéing vegetables began to fill the space.

Azriel hummed something under his breath—a soft, calming tune—as he drained the pasta. Eris couldn’t help but listen to that sound, finding the quiet humming captivating. It was one of the little details he had started to notice about Azriel over time: he would hum little melodies when focused on something. The first time he noticed this was when Azriel was working on his car a couple of months ago, but back then, he hadn’t paid much attention to such small things.

"You know," Azriel said as he returned to Eris’s side, leaning against the counter, "you’re actually doing a pretty good job."

Eris raised an eyebrow, though there was a slight curve to his lips. "Don’t lie to me."

Azriel chuckled. "I wouldn’t lie about that. I mean it."

Eris stirred the vegetables a bit more confidently, and when they were nearly done, Azriel came up beside him again, reaching around him to grab the pasta.

"I admit," Eris said quietly, his tone thoughtful, "this isn’t as terrible as I thought it would be."

Azriel had a small, contented smile as he added the pasta to the pan, mixing everything. "I told you. Cooking’s not so bad when you’ve got a good teacher."

Eris rolled his eyes but didn’t pull away. "Or a teacher who likes to get handsy."

Azriel grinned, his hand slipping to the small of Eris's back, pulling him just a little closer. "That’s not mutually exclusive terms and you didn’t seem to mind."

Eris smirked. "I didn’t say I did."

When they finished, and Azriel plated the food, they sat at the table in comfortable silence, their forks clinking. Eris wanted to joke about how the food was probably poisonous and dangerous to eat, especially considering the moment Azriel had suggested he add pepper—and who knew the pepper could spill so easily in such an enormous quantity? Eris sure hadn’t known. And because of that, they’d had to add water to dilute the excessive amount of black pepper in the dish.

However, it didn’t taste bad. Not as good as if Azriel cooked it himself, or if they just listened to Eris and ordered takeout, but still, it was edible.

Eris toyed with his fork, pushing a few pieces of pasta around before finally speaking. "You really don’t mind the pepper, huh?"

Azriel looked up, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "I’ve had worse," he said, taking another bite. "Plus, it’s got... character."

"Character," Eris repeated as he snorted. "That’s one way to put it."

"I told you it wouldn’t be a disaster. And now you can say you’ve officially cooked dinner." Azriel chuckled.

"Under very specific and unwilling circumstances," Eris added.

"Still counts."

As they sat in the quiet, the clinking of their forks was the only sound between them for a while. Eris took another bite, chewing thoughtfully, his mind wandering to the way the evening had turned out. He glanced across the table at Azriel, who seemed completely at ease, eating without a care in the world, and Eris thought that Azriel truly felt like home.

When Azriel went to wash the dishes – he tried to convince Eris to do it and failed miserably because there was no way he would do that after he suffered the cooking – Eris watched him from his seat.

He was still worried about his father and his business here. That was his main stress source right now, and he replayed their conversation again and again.

"You’re quiet," Azriel remarked after finishing with dishes, wiping his hands with a towel and turning around to look at Eris. His eyes had a gentle curiosity in them as if he could sense Eris’s shifting mood.

Eris shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "Just thinking."

Azriel tilted his head slightly, waiting, not pushing him to say more. That was one of the things Eris appreciated about him—Azriel never rushed him to speak, always letting him come to his thoughts on his own time.

Finally, after a few more seconds of silence, Eris sighed. "It’s family shit again. Can’t get this out of my head."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Azriel asked as he leaned closer, his expression softening.

Eris hesitated, his fingers drumming restlessly against the arm of the chair. "Not really.”

Azriel’s fingers traced a slow, comforting pattern on Eris’s thigh, inching upward with deliberate slowness, the gesture half-comfort, half-invitation. "You don’t have to say anything," Azriel murmured, leaning closer, his lips just brushing the shell of Eris’s ear. “But if you want to forget for a while, I can help with that.”

"I wouldn’t say no to that," Eris admitted, his voice low, his eyes meeting Azriel’s with a flicker of something unspoken. A distraction wasn’t just appealing, it felt necessary.

That was all Azriel needed. In an instant, the distance between them vanished as Azriel pressed their lips together, the kiss starting slow but with a growing intensity. Eris let himself sink into it, his hands finding their way to Azriel’s waist, pulling him closer. And for once, his mind quietened.

Azriel grinned, his teeth grazing Eris’s lower lip as he kissed him again, harder this time. Eris’s hands roamed his back, feeling the shift of muscle beneath his shirt, pulling Azriel closer until there was no space left between them.

Eris’s lips ghosted along his neck while Azriel's hands roamed lower, slipping beneath the waistband of Eris's pants, giving his cock a few slow strokes and causing a sharp intake of breath from Eris. His fingers tightened on Azriel's shirt.

"Azriel..." he whispered, a hint of need in his voice.

Azriel smirked against his skin. "Let me take care of you tonight."

tag list: @sizzlingstarlightsky @isnotwhatyourethinking @molcat07 @chairofchaos @lilah-asteria

#eris vanserra #acotar #azris #azriel shadowsinger #azris fanfiction #azriel #modernau #azriel x eris #azriel acotar #eris vanserra x azriel

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fieldofdaisiies · 1 year

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Please do modern Eris headcanons like explaining the job he would have how it is like being in a relationship with him and etc

oh I love this sooo much❤️ here we go:

modern Eris in my mind and also in other stories I have seen is definitely a doctor or a lawyer, but I lean more towards doctor

I believe he has the perfect fine motor skills needed for this job and is incredibly smart and skilled

Eris is one to love big and expensive cars, but instead of owning many he rather has only one or two really expensive one

his preferred car is an Aston Martin

he is not one to really show off, it is rather for himself

and you

god, this man loves to spoil you as long as you are fine with it

jewellery, clothing -> he loves to buy those things for you, pay for you but only as long as you are not overwhelmed by it

but not only those kind of things

Eris loves taking you amazing holidays to the sea or skiing in winter

fancy dinners are a must for him -> at least once a week he will take you out for dinner, either to your favourite restaurant or a new one if you haven't enjoyed the previous one

Eris loves spending time with you, but he also loves to spend some time alone

and that time he will mostly use for doing sports, preferably tennis

Eris is very talented, but only does it as a hobby

he loves playing tennis with you, or if you just watch him play

another thing Eris loves is going hiking

he likes it a lot to take you into the mountains, you will have a little road trip there and then you will spend the whole day in the mountains, in the forests

Eris loves the forests, you will also have a picnic there and if the weather allows it go bathing in one of the beautiful lakes nearby (sometimes you go skinny dipping)

Eris works a lot, but the weekends (safe for the few hours of tennis) are completely reserved for you, his family and his friends

when he is spending time with you, he is fully focused on you, his phone is on silent or turned off and he won’t turn on his computer

he loves bathing with you after a long day of work, it helps him relax and he also loves if you massage him after a long day of work, after night shifts

and he also loves if you make him breakfast after night shits, how you are just there for him

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra headcanons

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talictries · 1 year

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strollonso fic wip

So, he is thankful, he really is. The Stroll family are literally saving him from the cesspool of French bastards (read: Esteban Ocon) and are now buying into their origins by adding another French bastard (read: Pierre Gasly) to replace him. Before testing, his only comfort is that the two Alpine divers get along as well as he and Ocon did, which is pretty unspectacularly.

And the Aston Martin team needs some comfort going into the 2023 season because Lance fell off a bicycle and broke his wrists. Great. Fantastic. If his new teammate weren’t the boss’s son he he’d bully him for it, but he’s trying to detach himself from the reputation that precedes him when joining each new team.

Has he been, in the past, the best teammate in the world? No.

But he’s mostly forgotten 2007 and all the trials and tribulations that come along with being a World Champion and a rookie out-performing him at almost every race, and he tried being a good teammate to Lando come 2018, but his asshole-ery kicked in and the younger was mostly sent for coffee duty for him. Alpine was a mess, so he won’t treat himself too badly for that shitshow either, but hey, new year, new team that has not fucked him over or pissed him off, and a new chance to detach from the ‘grumpy old man’ caricature that hangs over him.

He’s turning over a new leaf perhaps, is what he thinks as he sits in the cockpit before his first test.

And when he gets ninth-fastest overall, with sandbags by his feet he thinks; oh, yeah, I’m definitely turning over a new leaf.

i feel like everyone writes strollonso in lance's POV so gonna try something different and do it in nando's!! already am in fact obsessed with my fic idea and it's cool having two completely different wips (george/daniel and this one) in the background while i work on fns!! (writing chap 34 atm - i have one scene that's killing me)

#f1 #formula one #ao3 #fanfic writer #fic idea #fernando alonso #lance stroll #strollonso #ls18 #fa14 #current wip #fic wip #drabble

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heavenlydragon · 2 years

Photo

“Escaflowne Bible” scans [page 9]

You may (or may not) remember the scans/translations of the tiny Escaflowne Bible artbook. This is the second to final part to be posted, called Character Profiles (or Character Biographies). Many thanks again to @legendofthesevenstars for the proofread!

This will be posted page by page, with translation, updating every week or so. The Allen - Millerna page! Translation under the cut.

ALLEN SCHEZAR

Profile

Knight of the kingdom of Asturia, equivalent to 21 years of age on Earth. He’s a fine young man with a strong sense of justice, ready to throw even his country away for honor’s sake. However, he already has a son (Chid) at this age, with Marlene (deceased). Looks like the rumours of him being a playboy are true. He hates his father, who abandoned his family to track down the hidden treasures of Atlantis, eventually meeting and falling in love with Hitomi’s grandmother. Marlene does not seem to be his one and only; his feelings flicker equally between Hitomi and Millerna as well.

Question of Interest

Did Duke Freid know Chid was Allen’s child?

According to Marlene’s diary and Millerna’s words: “Chid and I were the only ones who didn’t know”, it can be presumed Duke Freid knew the truth of Chid’s parentage. Why did he recognize him as his own child? That would have to do with Marlene’s honest confession. Even if there was some remorse, in the end he acknowledged his beloved wife’s son as his own.

Pic Descriptions

Young Allen and Marlene, or the doomed forbidden love between the knight and the princess (?) .

Allen bore a serious wound from when he was protecting Hitomi. Even looking at it is kind of painful…

Appearing in his recollection from episode 4, Allen’s lost younger sister, Celena. Where could she be now?

After Millerna’s emergency surgery, Allen wears a hospital gown for a while. He shines no matter what he wears.

Conceited in his skills, this is Allen at the time he challenged Balgus to a duel.

His current nature is a result of the lessons he took (episode 15).

A heroic story may yet be forged out of the playboy Allen.

MILLERNA ASTON

Profile

If you put Allen and her country on the scales, this Asturian princess, equivalent to 15 years old on Earth, seems to love Allen enough to abandon her country. She is interested in medicine and has been studying it for some time. At one point, she really abandons her country and acts together with Allen and the others. If it weren’t for her decisiveness and medicine skills, Allen would likely be dead. It is only when Dryden, the fiancé their parents chose for her, suddenly appears before her in episode 14, that her heart starts to waver a bit. And in episode 19, she finally gives consent to a marriage with him.

Question of Interest

Woman’s heart, an autumn sky [1]… who is Millerna’s chosen one?

Since Dryden appeared, Millerna’s maiden heart has been trembling with doubt. She even consults Hitomi (episode 15). After her father collapses because of her, she decides to marry Dryden, but as soon as she receives a blessing from Hitomi, her decision is shaken. It looks like her true choice really is Allen, but unless his heart becomes clear, her love will not be fulfilled.

[1] A Japanese saying about a changeability of heart... there's both a woman and man version.

Pic Descriptions

Don’t tell me she even packed her surgical gown…

The three Asturian royal sisters during Millerna’s childhood. Left is the youngest daughter, Millerna, middle is the eldest, Marlene, and right is the middle child, Eries.

The formal dress Millerna wears in Asturia. She truly looks the part of a princess.

Gaean Ms. Nightingale (?) The outfit she wears while operating on Allen.

The outfit she wears while in action with Allen and the others. She ties her hair back with a ribbon.

<<ESCAFLOWNE TIDBITS>> (on bottom of the page)

Even in Gaean countries, there seem to be religions present. Many idols can be seen in the Duchy of Freid, and the idols are even incorporated into the guymelef design. Judging by the scenes like Merle kneeling and offering a prayer when Van is in danger, there seems to be faith in this world, too. But the religions seem to differ by country. In Freid and some other countries, Atlanteans as Gaea’s makers became the objects of worship.

#escaflowne #translation #allen schezar #millerna aston #artbook scan

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fallloverfic · 10 months

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Rating: Explicit

Category: M/M

Fandom: Tenkuu no Escaflowne | The Vision of Escaflowne

Relationships: Van Fanel/Allen Schezar

Tags: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, angst with a happy ending, eventual smut, Allen Pov, Top Allen, Bottom Van, first meetings, developing relationship, bodyguard romance, mutual pining, more tags on Ao3

Summary: Asturia and Fanelia are about to begin another stage of negotiations for the marriage of Princess Eries Aston to Prince Van Fanel. Knight Caeli Allen Schezar is assigned to look after Van during his stay in Asturia. Allen is cautious over looking after a strange prince, but Van's charm wins him over. Perhaps too much.

Sparring Partners, Chapter 1: Hey I just met you

#Escaflowne #tenkuu no escaflowne #Allen Schezar #Van Fanel #Allen Schezar/Van Fanel #Van Fanel/Allen Schezar #m/m

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danykha · 1 year

Text

#escaflowne #vision of escaflowne #ep19 #allen schezar #eries aston #operation golden rule of love

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pethfics · 8 months

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ESCAFLOWNE WEEK 2021 DAY 3: BONDS/DEATH (Parts 1 and 2)

Title: The Buried and the Bereft Summary: The Aston sisters lay flowers at the graves of the women they have lost. Musical Inspiration: 1, 2, 3

#Escaflowneweek #Escaflowne #Aston sisters #The Buried and the Bereft #Therese Aston #Marlene Aston #Eries Aston #Millerna Aston #wow i made myself sad #like this was painful and yet I felt like I needed to write this for the prompts #because it was painfully apt #I will never tire of writing about this family and their complex dynamics #no ships in this one #only sisterly dynamics #final part tomorrow #for maximum feels

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ladyescapism · 2 years

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acotar next gen- part 3

summary: hey! this mini series will be about the children of the IC and a few other characters. ships include feysand, nessian, gwenriel, and elucien. I will include a list of OCs and ages that is updated each part.

warnings: slut shaming, swearing

wc: 3,700

o.c. list:

Persephone, age 17 - feysand's daughter

Calliope, age 17 - nessian's daughter (not mentioned)

Catrin, age 17 - gwenriel's daughter (not mentioned)

Adonis, age 23 - gwenriel's son (not mentioned)

Malec aka Mal, age 19 - eris's son

Aston, age 16 - elucian's son

Marco, age 13 - tarquin's son

Thorne, age 21 - tamlin's son

Aria, age 15 - Thesean's niece

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

“You will behave, Persephone,” Rhys said sternly to his daughter. “I will not have a scene risking this alliance.”

“I know, Daddy,” said the 17-year-old with an eye roll. “I know how to be polite and what to say and how to dance and make some friends, even if for the night.”

At that Nyx snorted.

Feyre came up behind her son and lightly smacked him on the back of the head. “Don’t be mean to your sister.”

“I didn’t even say anything, Mama,” Nyx defended.

“Are we ready,” Rhys interrupted. “The sooner we get there, the sooner it is acceptable to leave.”

“Grump,” Feyre teased her mate. “Afraid you’ll miss out on your beauty sleep?”

“Yes, darling. Not all of us find beauty as effortlessly as you.”

“Uggh, gross,” Persephone groaned. She had been subject to her parents’ shameless flirting for as long as she could remember.

Her parents just looked at each other and smiled.

“Okay,” Rhys said, tearing his eyes from Feyre. “Let’s go.”

Feyre took Nyx’s hand while Rhys took Persephone’s to winnow them to the Forest House.

The party was in full swing when the Night Court family arrived, despite being only two minutes late according to the invitation.

Immediately, they were greeted by Eris.

The children bowed or curtsied in respect to him.

“Good evening, Rhysand and Feyre,” the High Lord said, bowing his head in respect. “Welcome back to my home.”

Rhys returned the polite greetings. After speaking with her parents, Eris turned his attention to the young female.

“Hello, Persephone.” He reached out his hand, indicating that he wanted to start a conversation with her, and she would need to curtsy to him again.

“Good evening, Lord Eris.” She took his hand, dropping her foot back and dipping low enough so that her head reached approximately the center of his chest, the proper greeting from a Daughter of another court to a High Lord.

“This is your first official event as a lady, is it not?”

“Yes, lord.” She met his eyes. “My 17th birthday was two months ago, and this is the first party I have been too since.”

“Well, you look stunning, dear.”

“Thank you,” she said, resisting the urge to bow her head and blush at the compliment. She was wearing a black gown, of course. It was fitted to her body, hugging her breasts and hips. The only revealing aspect was the dresses arms and upper chest were a black sheer. Her father demanded that she be covered from neck to ankle if she attended. She was, but her mother had found a loophole to exploit for her daughter.

“Will you dance with me this evening?”

Rhys stiffened and everyone noticed.

“With your father’s permission, of course,” Eris quickly tacked on.

“If she is willing then we have no problem with it,” Feyre answered for her mate, only slightly annoyed at the antiquated tradition. Between the ages of 17 to 25, any male that wanted to dance with Persephone would have the ask Rhys for permission first.

“I would love to, Lord Eris.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it.”

The High Lord of Autumn dipped his head once more and walked off to greet another guest.

Persephone turned to her parents and asked if she could go find Malec, Eris’ son. “He still has a book of mine I need to hound him for.”

“I’ll go with her,” Nyx offered, eager to protect and annoy his sister.

“Fine,” Rhys agreed.

The siblings started moving through the crowd looking for the other young male. It only took the siblings a few minutes to him.

Mal was an attractive male, Persephone thought. He already his father’s height and not even fully grown. His usually shaggy hair was styled up and over, giving him a princely look instead of the usual rouge he went for. He was wearing a deep green suit jacket embroidered with gold, a white shirt, and brown pants. Mal was probably the only male in the room sporting gold necklaces, rings, and earrings alongside khol lined eyes.

Along with his father’s height and shocking hair, he inherited the Vanserra family arrogance. He wasn’t mean-spirited in any way, just cocky and obnoxious at times. Like all young males.

Mal was standing near the drink table, looking around the room. When his eyes found the siblings, his face lit up.

“Seph, Nyx! Over here!”

He was waving his arms like a lunatic.

Before Persephone could make the last few feet on her own, Mal lunged forward and pulled her into a hug.

“I just saw you two months ago, Mal,” she laughed.

“Too long,” he mumbled into her shoulder.

Mal had a hard time making real friends, like Persephone did. Sure, there were people that wanted to be around them, but only because of their parents, not them. Whereas Persephone was fine on her own or with her cousins, Mal was a social creature. He thrived when he was around others. Persephone knew that he was alone most days and how hard it was for him.

The two had bonded over a shared love of puzzle games. They met for the first time when her and Nyx was assigned to give Mal a tour of Velaris while their father’s had a meeting. A friendship that a mostly maintained through letters was born.

“I missed you too, Mal.”

Mal pulled away and the boys did that weird handshake turned hug that included hitting each other on the back.

“So,” Persephone asked. “Who else is here that we know?”

“Let’s see,” Mal started. “Our cousin from Day is supposed to be coming soon, as well as Thorne. Kallis and Vivienne are not bringing Nico or Veronica, but Tarquin is bringing Marco. Thesean is bringing his niece, Aria. And of course, Arta has been confined to her rooms.”

Persephone thought about the group that would be there tonight. Aston would hang out with them. He was Elain and Lucien’s son, making him both her and Mal’s cousin. Nico and Ronnie were both too young to be here by Winter Court standards. Tarquin had changed the rules regarding when children could start going to social events, so even at 13, Marco would be coming. Aria is a dear but might stick next to her uncle the entire night if she isn’t pried away. And Thorne would probably ignore them.

“Oooh,” Nyx teased is sister. “Your husband is coming! Do you think you’ll dance with him?”

Persephone rolled her eyes. Marco was four years younger than her but still looked like he was age 10 or younger. His head only reached her boobs, and he was all knees and elbows. He also followed her around like a lost puppy, hanging on her every word. He was nice to have around when she wanted someone to do something for her, like get a drink. He would without a second thought. But it made her uncomfortable to have someone giving her the moon eyes constantly.

“She’d smack him in the face with her boobs,” Mal laughed.

“He’d love it,” Nyx added.

Both boys were snickering at thought.

“Alright, enough about my boobs. Nyx, try to pry Aria away from her uncle’s side tonight. I like her company.”

Nyx just grinned at the idea. Aria had a crush on Nyx, and everyone knew it, including him. However, Nyx was a better person that she was and only teased Aria a little bit to make her blush, not fetch him drinks.

“Hello, dearest Persephone,” came a voice from behind her. She turned and angled her head down to greet him.

“Hello, Marco.” He was dressed fully in white, with dark blue accents. He looked like a child who played dress-up in his father’s clothes. The with set off his dark skin and sun-bleached hair. His eyes, a light blue, were looking up at her like she hung to moon, stats, and sun.

“You look really pretty tonight, Lady,” he said. “Like a warm, comforting summer’s night.”

He was the first person to refer to her as ‘Lady’. She took a deep breath. “Thank you, you look handsome as well. That suit really complements your complexion.”

“Really!” The boy was practically beaming.

“Aston,” Mal shouted, “Were over here!” Everyone turned to look for Aston.

Her cousin began to walk their way. The male was the spitting image of his mother. Same deep brown eyes, mahogany hair, and soft features.

“Good evening, cousins,” he said to the group, not seeing Marco behind Persephone. He noticed the boy when he stepped around the female. “And Marco. Sorry, champ, didn’t see you there.”

“It’s fine,” the young male chirped.

Mal repeated who all was coming to Aston.

“Great,” the male groaned. “Thorne is coming.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Persephone agreed.

“Don’t worry, my love,” Marco piped up. “If he bothers you, I’ll beat him up. I’ve been working on my hand-to-hand combat.”

He punctuated his declaration with a few punches into the air. Persephone huffed out a laugh as the other males tried to hold back their laughter.

Nyx clapped him on the shoulder, “Good to know she’ll be protected.”

Marco looked up at the male and said with all seriousness, “With my life.”

The group quickly changed subject from Marco dying for Persephone to various court gossip to how annoying their parents are.

“Dad insisted on coming to the dress makers with Mama and I,” she explained to the others, now joined by Aria. “He insisted on having no slit, not even one that just went up to me knee, changed the fabric twice to something that would cling to my body, and no jewels. It took Mama three days to convince him that the sheer part was not scandalous.”

“He’s just looking out for you,” Aria said softly. “At least you’re here. My parents hardly let me out of the house.”

Persephone looked at the girl and sighed. “You haven’t run off into the sunset with any handsome winged male yet?”

Aria’s cheeks turned the color of Mal’s hair.

“No — Who — I -- Stoooppp,” Aria whined.

“I mean one of the handsome Peregrine soldiers yet. Who else?”

Persephone gave Aria a wicked grin. Before the teasing could continue, Aston came and tapped her on the shoulder.

“Have you been paying attention to Thorne at all tonight?”

“I try not to,” she said. “Why?”

“Well, I overheard him talking to some of the Spring and Autumn lordlings and he is saying that you gave him a blowjob earlier tonight in the bushes.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Persephone exclaimed. “I wouldn’t touch him with a 10-foot pole. Besides, I’ve been inside all night!”

“I know that and anyone with eyes knows that, but the lordlings are spreading the rumor like wildfire.”

Persephone’s chest started getting tight and she felt like everyone’s eyes were on her.

“I’m going to kill that bastard,” Mal said.

“Mal,” Persephone pleaded. “Don’t make any more drama. If you give him attention, then he gets what he wants.”

“Darling, I’m a Vanserra.” He set his drink down. “Drama is my middle name.” He disappeared into the crowd before she could stop him. Nyx, Aston, and Marco followed. He latter vowing to defend her honor to whatever end.

“Let’s go find your parents,” Aria offered. “They’ll know what to do.”

After asking a random person if they had seen the High Lord of the Night Court anywhere, the girls set off to find the west patio. Neither girl had been in this part of the Forest House and their guide left them.

The girls made their way outside, and they could see the patio. But it was on the other end of the house.

“Are we going back inside and trying to find a way through the house or trekking,” Aria asked Persephone.

“Walking. It’s a nice night. Besides, that house is a maze.”

The girls made it all of 20 feet when the bastard of the hour and his cronies made their appearance. They came out of another door, one that had been shut and locked behind them.

“Well, well,” Thorne started. “If it isn’t the slut and the prude. What a pair you make.” His cronies laughed.

“Go away, Thorne,” Aria said, trying her best to be intimidating.

“No, Aria. I won’t. I was coming to see if Sephy here would give a repeat performance.”

“You know,” an Autumn court lordling mused. “They say that she and Mal are a thing, and her father lets him fuck her regularly to keep the peace between Night and Autumn.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Thorne laughed. “Like father like daughter.”

Persephone could feel the anger bubbling in her chest. She had always had a temper, but her dad was trying to teach her to control it.

People will be sacred of you, dove. They will hate you for making them sacred. You can use that perception to your advantage, but never give them a reason to crucify you. If you give them a reason, it will be nearly impossible to get people to trust you. Losing your temper and hurting someone is a sure-fire way to make sure no one ever trusts you again. And in our line of work, trust is everything.

Taking her dad’s advice, all she said was, “Step aside, Thorne.”

She kept her voice even and calm. She kept her shoulders squared, showing no fear or submissiveness. She flared her wings a little, trying to make her appearance a little bigger, a trick that occasionally worked on Illyrian males.

“And what precisely do you think you can do to make me,” Thorne laughed.

“She’s the Heir of Night, you fools,” Aria hissed, now standing partially behind Persephone’s wing. “You don’t want to see what she can do.”

Persephone was silently cursing her friend. She was hoping to get out of this with intimidation alone, but now she was going to have to use what Cassian called a show of force.

Think, Seph, think. What could you do that would scare them but not hurt them.

“So be it,” she taunted, trying her best to sound like Aunt Mor. “We are in Autumn after all. Why not honor our host?”

With that, she summoned a ring of fire around the group of males.

“Hey, what the hell,” someone from the group shouted.

Persephone grabbed Aria’s hand to walk around the group of males. Thorne rushed the ring of fire, attempting to scare the girls, but Persephone made the fire flare when he got too close to it.

“Let us out, you bitch!”

“And what precisely do you think you can do to make me,” she chided, adding extra movement to her hips as she walked away.

“You’ll regret this,” Thorned shouted.

The girls made it to the patio where Rhys, Feyre, and some other of the less sociable of the High Lords were.

“Daddy, Mama,” Persephone called when she got close to the patio. They immediately turned around to find their daughter.

Persephone ran into her father’s arms and Aria went straight to her uncle’s side.

“Girls, what’s wrong,” Feyre asked concerned. “What happened?”

She stepped back from her father’s arms, “You know how you asked me not to make a scene?”

“Yes,” Rhys said, narrowing his eyes.

“Well, I might have encircled a group of males who were threatening us in a ring of fire, and they are still stuck there. Also, the group might include Thorne and other nobles.”

Rhys let out a deep sigh.

“But they were threatening us,” she added on. “Not to mention calling us names and spreading rumors about me.”

“Sexual rumors,” Aria said.

“Well, are they true,” a new voice asked.

“Tamlin, I am speaking with my daughter,” Rhys snapped at the other High Lord. “And do not ask such questions.”

“Well, given my child is trapped in a ring of fire at her making, so I suppose it is in my right to ask questions.”

He wanted to ask questions but didn’t seem all too concerned with his son’s safety.

“Persephone, how about be let down the right of fire, and then tell us what happened,” Eris, who was also on the patio, offered, trying to smooth this over before anyone got hurt.

“Fine,” she mumbled, releasing her magic keeping the ring of fire burning.

“Tell me what happened,” Rhys demanded.

“Well, I was at the party and talking to Aria when Aston came up to me to ask if I had heard what Thorne was saying about me. I had no idea but Aston said that Thorne was telling everyone that I gave him a blowjob in the bushes when he got here, but I didn’t even go outside till later.”

Rhys’ lips tinned and his eyebrows pinched together. Persephone kept on with the story.

“The boys ran off into the party trying to find Thorne to – I don’t know they were going to do. I never do, to be honest. Then, Aria suggested that we come try to find you. We ended up outside, but we were all the way at the other end of the house, so we started walking around the outside to avoid the party. Thorne and his cronies intercepted us and started taunting us. He was all like ‘Look, a slut and a prude. What a pair, blah blah blah.’

Rhys now had his arms crossed and the other High Lords, except Tamlin, were joining him in anger. While some of them had their own problems with her parents, everyone loved Persephone.

“When we told him to leave us alone, he was all like ‘Make me’. Then someone,” She gave Aria a pointed look. “had to go and be all like ‘She’s the heir of night, don’t mess with her,’ and then I trapped them in fire to keep them still while we went around. And they we came and found you.”

Rhys looked up at Tamlin. “Looks like your spawn got what he deserved.”

“I think you need to control your daughter,” he spat.

“Yeah,” Thorne added, now having made his way to the patio. “She’s crazy. I didn’t spread any rumors and I was trying to see if she needed help, being outside without a male present. And she just threatened us and trapped us in fire. Right, boys?”

Thorne was almost convincing. Except none of his boys backed up his story. They all looked at their shoes. For all the power Thorne held over them, no one was willing to lie to the High Lord of the Night Court for him.

Thorne instantly knew that with no one to back up his story, he was screwed.

“Father, please. You have to believe me. She could have killed me.”

“I believe you, son,” Tamlin said unconvincingly.

“If you know she could have killed you, why did you start messing with her,” Thesean asked, concerned for his niece.

“She attacked us out of nowhere, Lord Thesean!”

“I have known Persephone her whole life,” Thesean said. “She is not one to attack unprovoked. I know her parents have taught her better than that.”

Rhys beamed a little at the compliment while Tamlin scoffed.

“Listen here, little girl,” Tamlin sneered as he took a step closer to Persephone. “If you ever--”

Feyre stepped in front of her daughter before Tamlin could get any closer.

“If you ever,” she interrupted, “get near my daughter like that again you will be shown exactly how us females get when you threaten our children. And when I’m done, Rhys will make there is nothing left for your son to bury.”

Fear flashed in Tamlin’s eyes before he scoffed and turned away. Thorne rushed after him and the cronies dissipated.

Feyre pulled Persephone into a tight embrace that she returned.

“Well, that was exciting,” Eris said, trying to cut the tension. “If you wish to leave after such events, then I won’t be offended. You will just owe me a dance.”

Persephone released her mother and looked over her shoulder at her dad, who gave her a simple nod.

“I am a female of my word, Lord Eris. Let’s dance.”

“I am not arguing.”

Before they could make it into the ball room, Mal, Nyx, Marco, and Aston rushed out onto the patio. All of them panting and red in the face like thy all ran 10 miles to get there.

“We came as quickly as we could,” Mal panted out. “We heard about you going outside to the east patio, but you weren’t there, so we figured it was the west patio and ran around to get here.”

“The east patio is right over there,” Eris questioned. “Did you take the long way around?”

“Apparently, we did,” Mal wheezed. “And apparently, I need to work out more.”

Marco, ever the dear, was more concerned with Persephone than anything else. “We saw the scorched ground. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Marco,” she said, reaching out to mess with hair. “Thanks for trying to help though.”

She looked up at the other panting males, “It looks like I’m better off saving myself than waiting on you lot, though.”

Everyone on the patio laughed.

Eris offered Persephone a hand to lead her out the door, turned when Marco demanded she wait.

“Where are you going,” he asked, eyes narrowing at Eris.

“I promised Lord Eris I would dance with him,” she explained.

Marco whipped his head around to look at Rhys and Feyre.

“Lord Rhysand, Lady Feyre,” he greeted with a deep bow. “May I share a dance with Lady Persephone this evening?”

“I think you’re a little young, Marco,” Feyre said gently.

“I know all the dances, Lady,” he said eagerly. “I promise.”

Rhys and Feyre shared a look before Rhys said, “If she agrees, then you may.”

Marco looked at Persephone expectantly.

“We’ll see.”

The boy looked like he was on cloud nine.

Eris moved his dance partner towards to door before Marco could ask more questions. As they made their way through the door, she heard Marco ask another question.

“Can I marry her, too?”

#acotar fic #acotar imagine #acotar #acotar next gen

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