#brother awakening event

[badlydrawndave]

Fuck.

Your name is DAVE STRIDER, and you've just had a very rude awakening. Something is happening, but you can't put your finger on it.

You sit up in your BED, breath very heavy. It's the thought of your BROTHER that usually makes you panic. Or cry. Sometimes you win the TRAUMA LOTTERY and get BOTH! But it seems today you are not lucky.

What do you do?

[shidoukanae]

also now realizing there's a heavy possibility that the unknown event Daniel references where he asks Lyla "how are you going to find your happiness?" is the same event Helene references when she tells Lyla that Lyla "betrayed" her.

Coincidentally, that's probably the same event that allowed Helene to be manipulated by the Empress into turning against Lyla and might have been the cause of Daniel leaving Lyla (probably to find out how to awaken as a dragon so he could gain the power to take her away from her family faster? maybe even going so far as to try and compete w/ Paris for the throne if it means protecting Lyla?)

There's also a suspicious gap of time from when Helene was poisoned to when she told Lyla to get away from her that has been omitted. And considering baby Lyla cries about Helene not wanting to be with her anymore...and that same baby Lyla is seen hugging Daniel in the unexplored scene...Lyla what the fuck did you do to Helene to embitter her like this?

[reasonsforhope]

Story from the Washington Post here, non-paywall version here.

Washington Post stop blocking linksharing and shit challenge.

"The young woman was catatonic, stuck at the nurses’ station — unmoving, unblinking and unknowing of where or who she was.

Her name was April Burrell.

Before she became a patient, April had been an outgoing, straight-A student majoring in accounting at the University of Maryland Eastern Shore. But after a traumatic event when she was 21, April suddenly developed psychosis and became lost in a constant state of visual and auditory hallucinations. The former high school valedictorian could no longer communicate, bathe or take care of herself.

April was diagnosed with a severe form of schizophrenia, an often devastating mental illness that affects approximately 1 percent of the global population and can drastically impair how patients behave and perceive reality.

“She was the first person I ever saw as a patient,” said Sander Markx, director of precision psychiatry at Columbia University, who was still a medical student in 2000 when he first encountered April. “She is, to this day, the sickest patient I’ve ever seen.” ...

It would be nearly two decades before their paths crossed again. But in 2018, another chance encounter led to several medical discoveries...

Markx and his colleagues discovered that although April’s illness was clinically indistinguishable from schizophrenia, she also had lupus, an underlying and treatable autoimmune condition that was attacking her brain.

After months of targeted treatments [for lupus] — and more than two decades trapped in her mind — April woke up.

The awakening of April — and the successful treatment of other people with similar conditions — now stand to transform care for some of psychiatry’s sickest patients, many of whom are languishing in mental institutions.

Researchers working with the New York state mental health-care system have identified about 200 patients with autoimmune diseases, some institutionalized for years, who may be helped by the discovery.

And scientists around the world, including Germany and Britain, are conducting similar research, finding that underlying autoimmune and inflammatory processes may be more common in patients with a variety of psychiatric syndromes than previously believed.

Although the current research probably will help only a small subset of patients, the impact of the work is already beginning to reshape the practice of psychiatry and the way many cases of mental illness are diagnosed and treated.

“These are the forgotten souls,” said Markx. “We’re not just improving the lives of these people, but we’re bringing them back from a place that I didn’t think they could come back from.” ...

Waking up after two decades

The medical team set to work counteracting April’s rampaging immune system and started April on an intensive immunotherapy treatment for neuropsychiatric lupus...

The regimen is grueling, requiring a month-long break between each of the six rounds to allow the immune system to recover. But April started showing signs of improvement almost immediately...

A joyful reunion

“I’ve always wanted my sister to get back to who she was,” Guy Burrell said.

In 2020, April was deemed mentally competent to discharge herself from the psychiatric hospital where she had lived for nearly two decades, and she moved to a rehabilitation center...

Because of visiting restrictions related to covid, the family’s face-to-face reunion with April was delayed until last year. April’s brother, sister-in-law and their kids were finally able to visit her at a rehabilitation center, and the occasion was tearful and joyous.

“When she came in there, you would’ve thought she was a brand-new person,” Guy Burrell said. “She knew all of us, remembered different stuff from back when she was a child.” ...

The family felt as if they’d witnessed a miracle.

“She was hugging me, she was holding my hand,” Guy Burrell said. “You might as well have thrown a parade because we were so happy, because we hadn’t seen her like that in, like, forever.”

“It was like she came home,” Markx said. “We never thought that was possible.”

...After April’s unexpected recovery, the medical team put out an alert to the hospital system to identify any patients with antibody markers for autoimmune disease. A few months later, Anca Askanase, a rheumatologist and director of the Columbia Lupus Center,who had been on April’s treatment team, approached Markx. “I think we found our girl,” she said.

Bringing back Devine

When Devine Cruz was 9, she began to hear voices. At first, the voices fought with one another. But as she grew older, the voices would talk about her, [and over the years, things got worse].

For more than a decade, the young woman moved in and out of hospitals for treatment. Her symptoms included visual and auditory hallucinations, as well as delusions that prevented her from living a normal life.

Devine was eventually diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder, which can result in symptoms of both schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. She also was diagnosed with intellectual disability.

She was on a laundry list of drugs — two antipsychotic medications, lithium, clonazepam, Ativan and benztropine — that came with a litany of side effects but didn’t resolve all her symptoms...

She also had lupus, which she had been diagnosed with when she was about 14, although doctors had never made a connection between the disease and her mental health...

Last August, the medical team prescribed monthly immunosuppressive infusions of corticosteroids and chemotherapy drugs, a regime similar to what April had been given a few years prior. By October, there were already dramatic signs of improvement.

“She was like ‘Yeah, I gotta go,’” Markx said. “‘Like, I’ve been missing out.’”

After several treatments, Devine began developing awareness that the voices in her head were different from real voices, a sign that she was reconnecting with reality. She finished her sixth and final round of infusions in January.

In March, she was well enough to meet with a reporter. “I feel like I’m already better,” Devine said during a conversation in Markx’s office at the New York State Psychiatric Institute, where she was treated. “I feel myself being a person that I was supposed to be my whole entire life.” ...

Her recovery is remarkable for several reasons, her doctors said. The voices and visions have stopped. And she no longer meets the diagnostic criteria for either schizoaffective disorder or intellectual disability, Markx said...

Today, Devine lives with her mother and is leading a more active and engaged life. She helps her mother cook, goes to the grocery store and navigates public transportation to keep her appointments. She is even babysitting her siblings’ young children — listening to music, taking them to the park or watching “Frozen 2” — responsibilities her family never would have entrusted her with before her recovery.

Expanding the search for more patients

While it is likely that only a subset of people diagnosed with schizophrenia and psychotic disorders have an underlying autoimmune condition, Markx and other doctors believe there are probably many more patients whose psychiatric conditions are caused or exacerbated by autoimmune issues...

The cases of April and Devine also helped inspire the development of the SNF Center for Precision Psychiatry and Mental Health at Columbia, which was named for the Stavros Niarchos Foundation, which awarded it a $75 million grant in April. The goal of the center is to develop new treatments based on specific genetic and autoimmune causes of psychiatric illness, said Joseph Gogos, co-director of the SNF Center.

Markx said he has begun care and treatment on about 40 patients since the SNF Center opened. The SNF Center is working with the New York State Office of Mental Health, which oversees one of the largest public mental health systems in America, to conduct whole genome sequencing and autoimmunity screening on inpatients at long-term facilities.

For “the most disabled, the sickest of the sick, even if we can help just a small fraction of them, by doing these detailed analyses, that’s worth something,” said Thomas Smith, chief medical officer for the New York State Office of Mental Health. “You’re helping save someone’s life, get them out of the hospital, have them live in the community, go home.”

Discussions are underway to extend the search to the 20,000 outpatients in the New York state system as well. Serious psychiatric disorders, like schizophrenia, are more likely to be undertreated in underprivileged groups. And autoimmune disorders like lupus disproportionately affect women and people of color with more severity.

Changing psychiatric care

How many people ultimately will be helped by the research remains a subject of debate in the scientific community. But the research has spurred excitement about the potential to better understand what is going on in the brain during serious mental illness...

Emerging research has implicated inflammation and immunological dysfunction as potential players in a variety of neuropsychiatric conditions, including schizophrenia, depression and autism.

“It opens new treatment possibilities to patients that used to be treated very differently,” said Ludger Tebartz van Elst, a professor of psychiatry and psychotherapy at University Medical Clinic Freiburg in Germany.

In one study, published last year in Molecular Psychiatry, Tebartz van Elst and his colleagues identified 91 psychiatric patients with suspected autoimmune diseases, and reported that immunotherapies benefited the majority of them.

Belinda Lennox, head of the psychiatry department at the University of Oxford, is enrolling patients in clinical trials to test the effectiveness of immunotherapy for autoimmune psychosis patients.

As a result of the research, screenings for immunological markers in psychotic patients are already routine in Germany, where psychiatrists regularly collect samples from cerebrospinal fluid.

Markx is also doing similar screening with his patients. He believes highly sensitive and inexpensive blood tests to detect different antibodies should become part of the standard screening protocol for psychosis.

Also on the horizon: more targeted immunotherapy rather than current “sledgehammer approaches” that suppress the immune system on a broad level, said George Yancopoulos, the co-founder and president of the pharmaceutical company Regeneron.

“I think we’re at the dawn of a new era. This is just the beginning,” said Yancopoulos."

-via The Washington Post, June 1, 2023

[brokenmenswhore]

Hi hi

Could I request an Aegon fic where after he got burned Aegon thought that you would see him as a monster and would leave him, but he was surprised when you stayed and took care of him.

aweh i fuckin love this request

monster | aegon ii targaryen

pairing: aegon targaryen x reader

warnings: none, just some fluff :)

────── ☾ ──────

When Aegon regained consciousness, all he wanted was you.

The events that had brought him to his current predicament were blurry; all he knew was that he was painful and terrified for the future. Would he heal? Would he survive? Would he ever speak again? Walk again? Would you even look at him?

Aegon was not someone who maintained stable, healthy relationships with anyone, but despite his best efforts, he couldn’t shake you. When no one cared for him, you were there. When his own family and council disagreed with him, turned on him, or treated him like he was useless, you listened to him. You pushed him to be a better king, a better partner, a better person.

Everyone always leaves. Laying stagnant, leg wrapped and propped up in his bed, his grotesque burns on display, he couldn’t possibly imagine why you would be an exception. He felt, in his heart, that you wouldn’t do that to someone, but, in his head, he believed that he wasn’t worth someone like you sticking around. He could only imagine how he looked, just as he felt he was internally: a monster.

Aegon was stable, and Maester Orwyle was hopeful that the King would make some form of a recovery. Aegon spent most of the day asleep, his body desperate for an infinite amount of rest, but would awaken for just around an hour of every ten.

It took days, if not weeks, for Aegon to be able to speak, and when he could, he could only form small words or groans. He tried to speak your name- to ask for you- but he was unintelligible.

Aegon wasn’t aware that you had spent most of your recent days tending to him as he slept. You cleaned his wounds, rewrapped his leg, and most importantly, sat beside him and spoke to him, hoping the words would stick in his brain when he was conscious enough to remember or understand them. You told him of your days, the happenings around the castle, and laughed to yourself about the stupidity of his brother Aemond’s new policies. You missed him, and you were terrified for his life and his health every single second of every single day.

Weeks after Aegon regained somewhat stability, handmaidens rushed in to begin his morning care, and Aegon fought with everything inside of him to let out a small whine of your name.

One of the handmaidens stopped her actions, her fingers leaving the wrap around Aegon’s head as she looked into his eyes. “Your Grace?”

Aegon repeated your name, the handmaiden leaning in to ensure she heard it correctly. Even if you were going to leave, he had to see you one last time.

The handmaiden stood up straight in understanding, exiting the room as she went to fetch you.

“He is asking for you, My Lady.”

You shot up from your chair. He was asking for you? Meaning he could speak? Meaning he was awake?

A million thoughts rushed through your head, but your feet took charge, rushing toward his chambers to see him.

When you entered the room, the handmaidens all turned in unison to watch you.

“Please leave us for a moment,” you requested, the handmaidens bowing in your direction as they exited the room, leaving you alone with Aegon.

He looked straight at you. You hadn’t seen his eyes open in what felt like ages. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes at the sight. You rushed to his side, taking his uninjured hand and holding it in your own.

“Aegon,” you spoke, a smile on your lips as you choked back a sob.

Aegon could not say or move much, this much you knew. You didn’t expect him to, you were simply happy to finally be in his true presence.

Aegon, however, was nervous. He was nervous that you were moments away from breaking his heart, the only feeling worse than that of his current condition.

Aegon was completely in his head. She’s going to leave. Memorize her features, you’ll never see them again. You fucking monster, no one could love you like this.

“I’ve missed you dearly,” you nearly whispered, “you know, I’ve been here each and every day, yet we’ve always seemed to miss one another.”

Involuntarily, a tear fell from one of Aegon’s eyes. You had come to see him every day. You didn’t run at the first sight of him.

You noticed the tear, and you knew Aegon. You know he likely doubted your relationship and himself, and you’re almost certain that he expected this to be a goodbye. He underestimated your love for him constantly, and to no fault of your own, but because he still struggled to believe anyone could actually love him.

You didn’t want to overwhelm his emotions, but just in case, it was important for you to make sure he knew this was true: “I love you, Aegon.”

You leaned down to place a kiss on his forehead, calming Aegon’s crying hiccups and erratic breathing kissing his burns to show you loved him no matter what, but keeping the kiss light so as not to hurt him further.

You stared at one another for a moment, content to be in each other’s presence.

“May I?” you asked, walking the the other side of the bed and patting the sheets next to Aegon.

Aegon groaned in response, and you knew him well enough to know it meant yes. You, slowly so as not to hurt him or shift his body weight, lifted the sheets and layed down beside Aegon, your face turned on the pillow so you could look directly at him.

You brought your hand up to Aegon’s face, stroking the unphased skin as a gesture of love, avoiding the burns in an effort to keep your actions painless. “You could not rid yourself of me if you tried, My King.”

Aegon’s eyes closed again, and yours did the same, your body relaxing as you slept next to him in peace.

[bet-on-me-13]

DPxBNHA Prompt

@evilminji recently made a Post about DP x MHA and I'm in love with the idea of those 2 fandoms together. (I'm gonna tag this dpxdc just to spread it around but there won't be much dc in it. Maybe a few crumbs here and there)

So! Quirks came into existence the same day Danny became a Halfa. He wasn't directly responsible for it, but when the Portal opened it released a truly Massive amount of Ectoplasm into the world at large. The Dr's Fenton didn't notice it at first, because Amity Park had always had that level of Ectoplasm and all of their Sensors were within the City Limits.

The Ectoplasm released onto the world quickly and integrated with multiple Humans across the Planet, and eventually enough Ectoplasm gathered in a single Human to form the first Proto-Core, aka Quirk. That human was the Glowing Baby.

This phenomenon spread across the world as the situation in Amity Park devolved. The GIW knew for certain that these "Meta Abilities" were the result of Ectoplasm Contamination, and doubled down on Amity Park to try and fruitless contain the spread. Not that it would have worked, the Portal opening had sent a Shockwave across the fabric of Reality, creating mini-portals that continued to feed Ectoplasm to the Earth.

Eventually the day came when Amtiy Park was Evacuated from the Mortal Realm by Clockwork for it's own Protection. It's disappearance was blamed on a newly awakened Quirk destroying the entire Town, which was used to feed the flames of hatred in the Early Dawn Era.

Then one day, Amity Park returns. In Japan of all places.

Clockwork had dragged the entire Town through Time, to an Era that would accept their abilities. It was placed in the countryside of Japan. Clockwork had considered putting them in a dimension of Heroes, bur decided that would like to stay in their home dimension for now.

Thats the basic world building, but there are other parts we can expand upon in this AU

For Example, OFA and AFO

All for One was the first True Core in the 1st Gen of Quirks, but he was born with a Defect that made him unable to generate his own Ectoplasm. He felt a Hunger that could never be satiated, and eventually found a way to feed that hunger by absorbing the Proto-Cores of other people into his own True Core, stealing their Quirks.

One For All was the Opposite, born as an empty True Core but without the insatiable Hunger that his brother had. Then AFO force fed him a Stockpile Core and it fused with his own, giving him the power to Generate and Stockpile his own Ectoplasm.

He also had the power to Pass On his Core to another Body, basically just passing on his power. Then his Successor did the same, and their successor, and their Successor. Eventually we reach the 9th Holder of OFA, and the Singularity.

In this world, the Quirk Singularity isn't just an event where Quirks grow too powerful for their Bodies to handle, it is an event where the Proto-Cores of Quirk Users experience an Apotheosis, and change from Proto to True Cores. True Cores which the Human Body can't handle having.

But it's different for OFA. It was a True Core from the beginning, born within a Human Body, and it has the power of 6 other Proto-Cores within itself all ready to Apotheosis into True Cores themselves. When OFA is passed onto zuku Midoriya, it floods him with 7 Cores worth of Ectoplasm, and turns him into a Halfa.

When Danny and the rest if Amity Park reappear in Japan, they find not only a world populated by mostly Liminal Humans, but also a Powerful Halfa who doesn't even know he is a Halfa. Maybe even 2 if All Might also experienced the same Apotheosis?

Thoughts?

[sunderwight]

TSCTIR-inspired SVSSS AU.

Shen Yuan was just a regular (ehhh kind of) nerd when the invasions began, monsters and dungeons started showing up, and people started "awakening" as RPG-style superheroes with special abilities, enhanced strength/speed/etc, and ranked classifications.

Shen Yuan's older brother awakens as S-classes. His younger sister awakens as an S-class. Shen Yuan?

F-class.

Of course, chronically ill Shen Yuan told himself he wasn't really expecting any different. But there have been people who have awakened as higher classes despite their own lifelong health problems or disabilities, and in many cases awakening cured them, and so he'd hoped...

Well. It doesn't matter what he'd hoped.

The worst part isn't even that he's not some badass dungeon-delver himself (even though he is wildly curious about all the strange monsters and beasts and demons that have been turning up), the worst part is that his siblings have all but left him in the dust. They aren't just busy, he can tell that they've increasingly been avoiding him, until virtually the only time they speak to him is when they catch him trying to go into a dungeon again and then yell at him about it.

(Of course, his siblings have been increasingly aware of the danger SY is in whenever he's in proximity to them, but no one ever accused the Shen family of having strong communication skills...)

Nonetheless, if there is some possible way for Shen Yuan to increase his rank, he won't find it staying at home. And there are too many mysteries to investigate to just keep himself out of it, even if that would be more sensible. So, Shen Yuan arranges to be on various low-level dungeon teams. Often among the more questionable, misguided ones being attempted by the newly-awakened or by people who are just desperate to try and get some kind of windfall. Dungeons are dangerous, but a lucky item drop can still make someone more money in a minute than they could otherwise earn in a year. It's through these jobs that Shen Yuan meets fellow F-class Shang Qinghua, whose motives for entering the dungeons are definitely more financial than academic.

This is also how Shen Yuan ends up in the wrong place at the wrong time, in a dungeon that has suddenly gone from low-level to a high-level boss, fleeing for his life. Just when it seems like he's about to become mincemeat, his older brother (Shen Jiu) shows up and takes on the dungeon boss. But it's too much for a lone S-class, even one as determined and vicious as SJ, and Shen Yuan can only watch in horror as his brother is killed by the terrifyingly powerful and weirdly beautiful Heavenly Demon Boss.

But the reason SY survived the initial assault, when no one else did, is thanks to his hidden ability. Which temporarily grants him the powers of anyone he has a bond with who has just died, x2. Previously, he had his bacon saved by Shang Qinghua's traumatic death, and when Shen Jiu dies, SY gains enough power to actually take down this mysterious Heavenly Demon boss.

It's a hollow victory. His brother is dead. His friend is dead. Even the boss monster seems inexplicably tragic to him somehow.

And why did SJ show up anyway? Between his siblings, Shen Yuan thought that his brother had grown the most distant from him, that he even hated him now! Why couldn't he have just... stayed away...?

Despite the traumatic horror of these events, killing the boss monster grants Shen Yuan a boon. It isn't a "raise people from the dead" boon, but it does permit time travel! In fact it seems kind of emphatic on that point, like something has gone really horribly wrong with reality and the world is struggling to hold itself together now somehow. Though that could also just be because Shen Yuan's world is struggling to hold itself together...?

Regardless, this new entity called "the system" refuses to let Shen Yuan go back to a point in time before he awakened, or before the dungeons appeared. But he can go back to a point before his brother died, which is definitely good enough. Accept, accept! Who has time to read the terms & conditions? Whatever it is he'll deal with it! Just send him as far back in time as he can go!

As such, Shen Yuan's memories are sent back five years in time. Along with him go a bunch of weird new unlocked abilities, and the system menu, which demands he fulfill certain tasks and complete certain quests as a stipulation of the time travel boon. Succeed, and he gets more rewards to help him keep himself and his loved ones alive. Fail, and he'll be rebooted back to the bad ending, except to the moment before the Heavenly Demon boss died but without any of his power boosts.

So maybe Shen Yuan should have read the fine print.

Though, even if he had, he still would have made the same choice.

Back five years in the past, he's got some thinking to do. Five years is a decent chunk of time. His siblings have both awoken, and begun distancing themselves from him, but their positions are still pretty different. Shen Jiu and his childhood friend Yue Qi had a falling-out over something (they wouldn't say what) at this point in time. Shen Jiu signed on with the Qiu Collective, one of the initial rich adventuring guilds that hired people to go into dungeons. But the Qiu Collective was corrupt even by the standards of a lot of dungeon-oriented corporations, and though Shen Yuan was never made privy to the details, he knew they mistreated Shen Jiu badly and that there were a lot of investigations. The collective ultimately went under when their office was destroyed by a rogue rampaging monster, after an undiscovered dungeon opened nearby. Dungeons that open but aren't found are especially dangerous, as the threat levels will steadily increase without anyone to clear them out, until the result is a dungeon break -- monsters escaping the dungeon and emerging in the normal world, causing havoc and Godzilla-style rampages.

According to the official reports, that was what caused the destruction of the Qiu Collective's head office and the death of their CEO.

Yue Qi, on the other hand, joined the Cang Qiong guild, which had fared a little better over the five year span. Yue Qi eventually even took over the guild, and after the Qiu Collective went under, Shen Jiu made up with him enough to join him there. Shen Yuan had hoped they would reconcile and maybe even answer some of his calls, but things remained strained between all of them even afterwards.

Shen Ying, his little sister, was sheltered and trained by their older brother until she was old enough to join Cang Qiong as well, but despite being S-rank, her youth and inexperience kept her more on the sidelines. Shen Yuan had thought they might bond over being kept out of the loop, but his last conversation with his sister had made it clear that as far as she was concerned, he was still world's away from her level.

(Read: Shen Ying told him he should keep away from dangerous things, was clumsy about it, and unwittingly fed some of Shen Yuan's worst insecurities.)

On top of that, though, was another consideration:

Luo Binghe.

Among the guilds that could rival Cang Qiong five years hence, the biggest one was Demon Path. Luo Binghe would start out as a member of Cang Qiong guild, recruited shortly after awakening. Shen Yuan had thought he was pretty cool, actually, but there was some bad blood between Luo Binghe and Shen Jiu, and it got bad enough that when Luo Binghe made his solo break he got Shen Jiu embroiled in some kind of legal investigation (something about the wrongful death of another guild member) on his way out. Demon Realm and Cang Qiong remained thoroughly at odds afterwards, and things only got worse when Demon Realm surpassed Cang Qiong's count of S-rank members, and conducted a successful merger with Huan Hua guild. That is, until Luo Binghe just mysteriously vanished altogether from the public eye.

Though Luo Binghe of course wasn't the dungeon boss that actually killed Shen Jiu, he had certainly been trying to destroy him before Shen Yuan reset the timeline.

But going five years back in time... Luo Binghe had been a prodigy, the youngest to become a guild leader. Five years hence, he'd be around twenty years old.

Which means that right now, thanks to the rewind, he is fourteen or fifteen years old and hasn't even awakened yet.

It would be possible to take him out of the equation altogether.

Then, there's Liu Qingge. An S-rank who died in a dungeon under suspicious circumstances, which provided the crux of the investigation into Shen Jiu. He and Shen Jiu had also never gotten along, although once again no one had confided the details to him. Shen Yuan refused to believe that his brother had actually murdered Liu Qingge, though. If Shen Jiu was going to murder someone he'd be a lot less obvious about it.

But it would probably be better if Liu Qingge didn't die at all.

Lastly, there's the matter of Shang Qinghua.

According to Shen Yuan's mental math, Shang Qinghua won't have awoken his abilities yet either. Five years into the future, extensive research and several regrettable moves on the part of various governments and guilds would reveal that even though it was supposedly impossible to increase someone's rank after awakening, how a person awoke their abilities could have a great deal of impact on their rank.

Shang Qinghua was a textbook example of a bad awakening. His skills were mostly oriented towards stealth and item drop bonuses, but his awakening had been violent, prompted by a shady center that promised people an avenue to adventure and riches only to use mortal terror to trigger the awakening process. Being in extreme danger would work fine for those with combat skills, but wasn't so good for everyone else. A lot of people had their awakening stunted by such early methods, which were not only a bad way to go about it but also traumatic to boot.

Shen Yuan has a suspicion that someone like Shang Qinghua would actually be incredibly valuable for stealth missions and item farming, if only he'd awoken at full potential. Instead, he'd struggled to make anything of his abilities due to his lack of durability or access to the kind of high-level items that would compensate for it.

Gathering all this foresight, Shen Yuan sets about altering the future to protect his siblings.

Step one: find Luo Binghe.

Shen Yuan's initial thought was to just kind of, nudge Luo Binghe towards something different from Cang Qiong altogether. Maybe if he started out with Huan Hua guild, he could contain all his trouble there. But when he finds him, Binghe is in a bad situation. The kid's living in foster care with abusive caretakers, his adoptive mother has recently died, and he's waiting tables and picking up trash instead of going to school. His clothes are threadbare, he's too skinny, and he looks like he's been beaten.

Between a rocky introduction and an attack from a Moon Python Rhinoceros thanks to a nearby dungeon break, Shen Yuan manages to convince Luo Binghe to hire him as his agent (fee = 0% of all Binghe's dungeon earnings plus 0% from contracts), and determinedly takes over. The System seems to wildly approve of it.

Creepy. And suspicious.

But Binghe is actually a total sweetheart, as it happens, to the point where Shen Yuan can't imagine what inspired the enmity between him and Shen Jiu. This kid truly is a diamond in the rough. He just needed a little help and some actual guidance, that's all!

With Binghe on the road to a less antagonistic fate, the next most chronologically urgent item on the list is Shang Qinghua. Shen Yuan has a new ability that lets him awaken people to their full potential, and his chosen guinea pig is his own formerly deceased bro. Somehow, awakening Shang Qinghua's abilities ends up involving a near-miss with rescuing him from debt collectors, and running into (and rescuing) the S-class Mobei Jun, who had joined Demon Realm as Luo Binghe's subordinate back in the original timeline.

It's actually quite fortuitous, though, because Shang Qinghua's treasure-hunter and stealth abilities are best suited to him being accompanied by a high-ranking hunter who can pick up the physical slack. Shen Yuan had been thinking that at least awakening Shang Qinghua as a D-rank would make him durable enough to handle some dungeons without turning to sketchy organizations for back-up, but with Mobei Jun, the ice prince can ferry the man right to the most valuable loot!

Shen Yuan's on a roll!

He discovers that some of his new abilities have utility as beast-taming skills, and tackles several dungeons successfully with the help of Luo Binghe, Shang Qinghua, and Mobei Jun. They even manage to rescue A-class Sha Hualing from a sticky situation, and Shen Yuan learns that his abilities can, in fact, help other awakened level up their own rank (previously believed impossible). With enough of his influence, Sha Hualing could become S-rank one day.

But of course, it can't be too easy.

When Shen Yuan moves to intervene with the dungeon break that wiped out the Qiu Collective, and seemed to start all the controversies against his brother, he instead finds that there is no dungeon at all. Yet, clearly some kind of attack on the building is underway.

He finds out why when he comes across his brother in a fugue state, murdering his way through his own guild.

Turns out, most S-ranks creep people out. Most average people can barely tolerate being around them even before they awaken. But afterwards? Their oppressive auras and sheer strength tend to trigger everyone's flight-or-fight reflex. Shen Yuan never noticed, because he's grown up surrounded by S-ranks his whole life. Even upon watching Shen Jiu kill the Qiu members, Shen Yuan's chief source of upset is that they were apparently treating his brother so badly that they inspired a murder spree from someone ordinarily much more calculating and clever than that.

Apparently, Shen Yuan should have been taking the opportunity to move against them a lot sooner, rather than just mitigating the whole supposed dungeon-break disaster and then investigating after. His own fault. He thought that keeping his distance would help his siblings, but clearly, letting them hoard their secrets and do whatever they think is best isn't the way to go either.

Does he even know what's really happening with his sister? Or to Yue Qi over at Cang Qiong? At this point in time, his friend had stopped contacting him altogether for several months in a row. When he came back, he was definitely more subdued and even more distant than he had been before. And that's the same guild that Shen Jiu and Shen Ying will eventually join as well, presumably with its own skeletons packed into the closet.

Shen Yuan's going to have to adjust a lot of his plans, it seems.

But first -- he's got a murder spree to help cover up, and an older brother to take home and, uh. Calm down. Or something?

Damn. Maybe Shen Jiu did kill Liu Qingge on purpose. He's going to have to thoroughly figure that situation out too, if he wants to handle it right...

[illyrianbitch]

Of Our Own Devices — Part Six

For @erisweekofficial Day 6: AU

Pairing: Reader x Eris

Summary: Severely wounded after the fall of his father, Eris slips into a deep sleep, only to wake in an alternate world—one where he was the kind brother, the male who made all the 'right' choices.

Warnings: mentions of death, physical fighting, confused Eris

Word Count: 4.6k

Part Five | Part Seven

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Eris woke slowly, the weight of sleep pressing against his mind like a fog. He swore he heard someone say his name, faint and distant, but when he blinked away the residue of slumber, the room around him was empty. He sat up, hand instinctively drifting to his abdomen, where his injury had been. Flashes of the fight flickered in his mind—his fathers face, the clash of metal, his mother's final strike.

There was no sign of any injury. He was healed now. Strangely skinny and paler than usual, but healed.

He looked around, the familiar walls of his quarters greeting him. It was his room—his bed, his furniture—but something was missing. Everything felt stripped down, too clean. Too empty. His room had always been a reflection of him, a collage of things that mattered, memories and symbols of what he held dear. But now… it was bare. 

Not even his couch held traces of life, no lingering hairs of his hounds.

They must’ve already moved my things, Eris told himself, a strange tightness settling in his chest. They must’ve moved everything to my father’s quarters. The thought lingered, and he found himself repeating it. How strange. They must be very eager.

Slowly, Eris sat up, the silence around him thick and unnatural. There was no sound, not even the faint stir of wind or the hum of life that usually filled the Forest House. He ignored how foreign his own room felt, how cold, and pulled himself out of bed, his bare feet hitting the floor with a soft thud. He managed to dress himself with the clothes remaining in his closet before he left the confines of his quarters. 

The hallways felt more familiar, the same twists and turns of the Forest House that were ingrained in him, walls that he knew like the back of his hand.

Yet, despite how normal it seemed, there was something unsettling about it now. It felt quieter, colder. Less alive. He did his best to ignore it.

Eris attributed his confusion to recent events. It’s just exhaustion, he told himself. Confusion from healing. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep, how long his body needed to recover from the battle, from his father’s fall. It was expected for things to feel a little off. He was, after all, the new High Lord. His plan had been successful. Perhaps it was the weight of that new title, the surge of power, that made everything feel so alien.

But Eris didn't feel any power. In fact, he felt weaker. As if something was missing, something important. It confused him, unnerved him, as he wandered through the halls of his home.

There should be more people. The fall of his father should’ve left chaos in its wake—advisors, soldiers, someone should have been there, waiting for him to awaken, waiting for their new High Lord to take his place.

But the halls were silent. Lifeless.

Eris froze mid-step. He frowned to himself, feeling a deep discomfort settling in his bones. Slowly, he took a few steps back and glanced over his shoulder.

The door to his right was slightly ajar, just enough for a thin beam of dim light to spill into the hallway. His instincts screamed at him to move forward. He hesitated, blinking, and then reached out, pushing the door open just a fraction more.

Inside, the room was bathed in the same cold light that seemed to haunt the entire hall. A figure sat on the edge of the bed, back turned to him, hunched over like they were trying to make themselves small. Their hair, a dull blonde, hung limp, the ends unevenly chopped short. The person’s posture was frail, broken. But Eris’s sharp senses picked up something that made his breath catch in his throat—a scent he knew. A scent that tugged at memories of hatred and understanding all at once.

“Morrigan?”

The figure flinched, shoulders trembling, but didn’t turn. Eris stepped into the room, his heart pounding as he slowly pieced together what he was seeing. The hair was dull, yes, but unmistakable. He knew her. He was certain.

“Morrigan," he said again, a tinge of frustration tainting his tone. "Why are you here?”

She didn’t respond. Her body barely moved, as though she was too afraid to even breathe.

"Mor."

Finally, she turned her head, just enough for him to catch a glimpse of her face—pale, hollow, and so different from the annoyingly outspoken, frustratingly arrogant female he knew. Her eyes darted to the floor, avoiding his gaze as though she couldn't bear to meet it.

“Eris,” she whispered, the words so soft they almost didn’t reach him. “You need to leave.”

“What?” His voice was growing louder now, confusion bleeding into anger. He took a moment to analyze her, to observe her with a critical gaze. Her skin was marked, marred by bruises and scars.

“What happened? Did I—” He faltered, his breath catching. “Did I do this to you?”

It wasn't possible. Eris would never have touched her. He had never laid a finger on her, didn't care enough to. Words were enough of a weapon when it came to the loud-mouthed female. But this world was familiar, cold, and he wasn't sure what he believed, who he was here.

Morrigan shook her head, but her eyes were full of something darker, more resigned. “He’s coming. You need to leave.”

“Who’s coming?” Eris took a step forward. “Morrigan, tell me what is going on.”

"Please." She gave him a long, haunted look. “You should have left me to die, Eris. You can’t help me anymore.”

Before he could register her words, the door creaked open again and Eris turned sharply. He recognized the new presence instantly, watched with furrowed brows as one of his younger brothers walked in. Caius was larger, more muscular than Eris remembered, and there was a gleam in his eyes that was nothing short of mad. It wasn't just cruelty. It was something darker, something even more sinister.

“Well, well,” Caius sneered, stepping into the room. His gaze slid toward  Morrigan, a smirk curling his lips. “Looks like you’ve finally grown a spine, brother. Decided you wanted her after all?”

Eris stiffened, straightening himself as he held his brother's gaze. He walked around Eris, approached Morrigan in a few, long strides. Eris could see her visibly shrink back, watched as her face paled with fear. The sight in itself was terrifying—the image of this female, who feared not even death, now trembling before his brother. It was wrong, so wrong, and made Eris more uneasy than the cold, lifeless walls.

"Step away from her," Eris said, "Now."

His brother laughed, a sharp, mocking sound that echoed in the room. "Always the protector, always so noble."

While Eris had a complicated relationship with his brothers, they all respected him. Listened to him. He had raised them, taught them, kept them in line so their father wouldn’t have to. They had never spoken to him with this kind of defiance. They never would.

Eris clenched his jaw, eyes flashing as he took a step forward, attempting to place himself between his brother and Morrigan.

"You’re out of line," Eris growled, his voice dropping to a lethal quiet. "Move."

For a brief moment, something flickered in Caius’s eyes—hesitation, perhaps, or uncertainty. But it was gone just as quickly, replaced by that same mocking smile. His brother didn’t care about the warning; he was testing him. Caius took another step toward Morrigan, his hand stretching out as if to touch her. Morrigan flinched, though her wide, desperate eyes remained fixed on Eris, pleading silently.

“What are you going to do, brother?” Caius’s tone dripped with disdain. “Finally act like a male? Finally take what’s yours?”

Before Caius could move any closer, Eris’s hand shot out, grabbing his brother by the arm and yanking him back with a force that startled them both. Surprise flared in Caius’s eyes, but Eris didn’t give him a chance to recover. His grip tightened, and in a swift, violent motion, he shoved Caius away from Morrigan, slamming him against the wall with a fury that belonged to an eldest brother, to a rightful heir. The crack of Caius’s back hitting stone was the only sound as the room seemed to hold its breath.

"You forget your place," Eris growled, his grip tightening. His brother winced, the smirk faltering. "And I won’t remind you again."

With a grunt, Caius tried to wrench his arm free, but Eris’s grip was unyielding. The younger male’s eyes flickered with something new—fear. Real fear.

Eris shoved him again, watching as Caius staggered back, shock flashing across his features. He wasn’t used to being challenged, certainly not by Eris. When he made a move to retaliate, Eris advanced once more, this time with more force, shoving him until he crashed against the wall with a heavy thud.

Caius had always been more temperamental, more prone to lashing out. Eris had learned early on that the only way to keep him in line was to meet his aggression with equal force, to show his brother that he could be beaten. That he was outmatched. It was always for his own good. If Eris didn’t correct him, Beron would. And he would be a lot less gentle. 

"You show me some respect," Eris spat, stepping back as his brother slumped to the floor, dazed. He turned to Morrigan.

She was staring at him, wide-eyed, stiff.

“Will you be alright?” Eris asked, his voice softer now, the edge of fury fading into something like concern. He’d never spoken to Morrigan in such a way, had never imagined himself asking her anything that hinted at care. Yet here he was. It made him uncomfortable.

That alone was enough to confirm this wasn’t real. That it was a dream—despite the throbbing in his knuckles telling him otherwise.

Morrigan only nodded.

“Alright,” he said, more to himself than to her. With one last glance at his brother, who lay slumped and breathing heavily, Eris turned and walked out of the room, leaving Caius on the floor and Morrigan standing frozen near the bed.

He needed answers. And he needed them now.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The more Eris thought about it, the more the halls of the Forest House felt different, unfamiliar. The once gleaming floors were dulled, the banners sagging as if weighed down by years of neglect. Figures passed him, and where there should have been respect, there was now disregard—intentional and palpable. Bodies brushed against him with force—someone’s elbow grazed his side, a boot came down hard on his own, followed by a mocking laugh that echoed behind.

"Thought you'd be taller," one courtier muttered as he shoved past.

Another voice cut through the air, louder, full of sneering confidence. "And they say eldest is to be the rightful heir?" A chuckle. "Pathetic."

Eris said nothing, his gaze fixed forward as the crowd parted only to provoke. The warmth beneath his skin, the heat that was always there, simmered just out of sight. He pushed it down, keeping his pace steady, even though each shove pushed against the restraint he'd built over years.

The familiar door to his father’s office appeared. It was open, an unusual sight in itself. His steps slowed as he approached, his brow drawing tight. Inside, slouched behind the large desk, was Beron Vanserra.

Eris stopped.

That wasn't possible. 

Beron was dead. He’d watched him fall, had seen the life drain from his father’s eyes as his mother plunged the blade deeper into his back. He’d stared into the soulless face of his father as his body collapsed lifelessly to the ground.

But there he was.

And yet, Beron looked nothing like the man Eris remembered. No, he looked worse than disheveled—he looked unhinged. The sinister gleam in his eyes had intensified, a wild, deranged look that made Eris pause. His father’s movements were sharp, erratic, like he’d lost any grip on control. The man murmured frantically to his advisor, Darius, the conversation laced with dark, twisted energy. This wasn’t the calculated cruelty Eris remembered; it was something more dangerous, something untethered. Even from the doorway, Eris could feel it—a tangible threat, his father teetering on the edge of madness.

He hunched over papers, speaking in low, frantic murmurs. It was hard for Eris to reconcile the image before him with the male he'd known— the male he had killed. Beron’s hands shook as he scrawled something, his voice barely audible.

“They’re closing in,” Beron muttered, eyes darting across the room though there was no one but his advisor present. “They're turning against us.”

Eris stood frozen in the doorway, his heart tightening at the names his father began to list—alliances, powerful connections Beron claimed were unraveling. But Eris had secured those ties himself. He knew they were strong, unbreakable. Every alliance, every bond he had forged was solid. He had ensured it.

But his father’s disjointed ramblings painted a different picture.

Something else gnawed at the edges of Eris's awareness. Darius—the way he moved, the flicker in his expression when Beron's back was turned—it all reeked of suspicion. There was a wariness in his advisor’s manner, a subtle but calculated hesitation in the way he responded to Beron's frantic mutterings, as if he were biding his time, waiting for the right moment to act.

He was a traitor, Eris concluded. He wondered how his father hadn't noticed.

A nagging voice in the back of Eris’s mind urged him to leave, to run and find you. But he stayed, forcing himself to assess the scene before making any move. Whatever was happening here, he needed to understand it first. Deep in his gut, he had a feeling that Darius would lead him to some answers.

So he waited.

And waited.

Until Darius finally left the room.

For a fleeting moment, Eris was grateful that this strange version of himself, in this twisted place, could blend in without notice. It grated on him more than he cared to admit, but even he could acknowledge that it was a blessing under these circumstances.

He had to remind himself over and over that this wasn’t real. Couldn’t be. Because in reality, he had defeated his father. He had fought, been wounded, and his mother had delivered the final, fatal blow. Their plan—his centuries-long scheme—had worked. Beron was dead.

So, no, this wasn’t real.

It couldn't be. 

It was just some hallucination brought on by his injuries. Yet the vividness of it all was disorienting. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this strange world had a purpose, a meaning, something that he needed to understand.

Gods, Eris hated deeper meanings, hated the idea of hidden lessons and cryptic truths. Which was funny, considering that’s exactly what he was—someone who required time, patience, and layers to be understood. The irony wasn’t lost on him.

Darius finally reached an exit, pushing through heavy doors that led outside. Eris followed.

He watched as Darius mounted a horse, the male glancing around, taking a moment to ensure no one was following. The sky above was oppressive, gray, and bleak. Even the colors of Autumn—once vibrant and alive—seemed muted, as if drained of life itself.

Eris waited, stayed hidden until Darius's figure was far enough away, until the rhythmic clatter of hooves gradually faded. Only then did Eris step into the open. He took a deep breath, letting the crisp, stale air fill his lungs, and winnowed, the world bending around him as he tracked Darius's path through the shifting air.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

He found himself at a residence, a few miles out from the heart of Autumn, an hour on horse-back from the Forest House.

It was a home of surprising elegance, far more refined than the modest quarters Darius had occupied in Eris's memories. For a moment, Eris lingered in the distance, nestled among the fallen leaves like a predator concealed in its natural habitat.

Darius glanced around one last time, his eyes scanning for any signs of pursuit, before walking to the front door. It opened as he approached and, for a moment, time seemed to stretch, every detail becoming sharp and vivid.

It was you.

Eris’s gut twisted as he watched you open the door wider, allowing Darius to step inside. The male grasped your face between his hands, his grip tight, eyes glinting with possessive satisfaction. A moment later, he released you, offering a dismissive wave toward the horse outside. A movement that indicated you were to tend to it. 

A command. 

Eris waited, expecting your usual defiance—the fire he admired so fiercely, the fire that rivaled his own. But you didn’t fight back. You only stood there, nodding in quiet compliance before moving toward the horse with a resigned grace.

Eris almost felt sick.

This world, this twisted reflection of reality, had ensnared you. Eris found himself paralyzed– paralyzed by his situation, by confusion and anger. What had happened to you in this strange, distorted reality?

What had happened to him?

He waited until you were absorbed in tending to the horse, until you had led it to its resting place, before he winnowed, pulling you away into a secluded strip of the forest. The second you were out of sight, you yanked yourself from his grip, your eyes flashing with a fire that made his breath catch.

Eris wasn't quite sure what he expected, what reaction to prepare for.

It certainly wasn't the sharp punch to his jaw that he received.

Before he could even register the pain, you were on him, a whirlwind of strikes and kicks, each one more vicious than the last. It was a relentless assault, far beyond what Eris had ever seen from you. For a brief moment, Eris felt a flicker of pride—impressed at the ferocity, at your precision.

But that pride quickly gave way to frustration as your fist connected with his face again, harder this time. He let out a grunt, finally managing to shove you back, flames licking his hands as he raised them defensively. You staggered, your expression shifting from fury to confusion as you blinked and truly saw him for the first time.

“Eris?” 

He almost smiled at the sound of his name on your lips. But he bit it back, focusing instead on catching his breath, trying to piece together the fragmented reality he found himself in.

“Where was that defiance with…” he began, but his words faltered as his gaze fell on your hand. To the ring on your finger. “… your husband?”

You straightened yourself, brushing off the dirt and leaves with a practiced grace. Eris took you in, still breathtakingly beautiful, and for a moment, he felt a surge of relief, the first since he’d woken up in this bewildering place. But the relief was tinged with unease; you were different—colder, stiffer, your demeanor as unyielding as the harsh winter.

“What are you doing here?”

Your voice was sharp, emotionless. It carried the same weight as his fathers, the same madness as his brother.

“Honestly, I don’t know. But—” Eris began.

You cut him off. “But what? This is not your land. Leave.”

Eris clenched his teeth, forcing himself to steady his breath. 

“No, Y/n, you don’t understand,” he said, reaching out instinctively to grab your arm. The gesture was absentminded, a reflex born of countless moments spent in your presence. But you yanked away, your eyes glazing over with disgust.

Every muscle in Eris’s body tightened at the sight.

Over the centuries, Eris had seen you look at him with many things, seen you look at him in many ways. There had been anger, fear, resentment, frustration— but never disgust. Not like this. He wasn’t sure he ever saw true hatred either.

“Don’t touch me,” you snapped, those cold eyes narrowing in on him.

A crease formed between Eris’s brows. He thought back to the ball—just a few hours ago in his memory. He scrambled to recall the image of you, one hand in yours, the other on your waist, as he danced with you. You’d told him you didn’t hate him. You’d seemed concerned, understanding.

You'd rushed to his side when he fell.

Those memories didn't match the female before him. The look in your eyes, this version of you, it was void of all the life he loved in you.

Loved.

Your face pinched into a deadly frustration. He could see the anger practically radiating off you in waves. The Y/n he knew was impatient, yes, entertainingly so, but the female before him— it was more than impatience. It was intolerance, unforgiving.

And you weren't unforgiving.

"What is wrong with you?” Eris's voice was quiet, contemplative.

He wasn’t sure if he was genuinely asking you the question or if it had slipped from his lips as a stream of consciousness. This was all wrong. How had he ended up here?

How could he leave?

“With me?” you echoed. “I’m aware you’ve harbored a pathetic crush on me but your title alone does not grant you the right to prowl through the forest like a fire-wreathed pervert.”

Eris blinked. Then he blinked again. "Excuse me?"

Your stare hardened. You casted another glance towards the home, towards the residence that you belonged to. "I will let Darius skin you himself if you don't leave."

Eris cocked his head at you. "Darius will do no such thing."

"And you are so confident?"

"Yes," he said through a sharp breath. "I am."

You let out a deep breath. He watched as your gaze danced over his form, as you took him in as he had done with you a few moments prior.

"You will leave, Eris. You don't belong here."

“No," Eris hummed. "I don’t believe I will."

You raised an eyebrow, a hint of sarcasm in your voice. “Is this you gaining a backbone, then? Standing up now?”

His eyes widened, face falling slack as his mind raced.

Suddenly, the similarity in your words struck him—words so akin to what his brother had said, to what Morrigan had implied. He paused, a chilling realization settling in.

He had often wondered how different his life might have been had he embraced kindness openly. His mother had been kind—strong, yes, but kind above all. Her kindness sometimes led her to act recklessly, driven by love, putting herself in dangerous positions. Eris’s own coldness had started as a means of self-protection, a shield forged to guard both himself and her. Autumn had never embraced kindness; it was twisted and manipulated, seen as a vulnerability to be exploited. The court’s harsh lessons had taught him that kindness could be turned against one, molded into a weapon of control.

Eris knew he wasn't as compassionate as others, understood that his empathy fell short in ways where it excelled for those around him. Lucien was warmer, his mother had a depth of love that Eris could never match. Yet, he had come to terms with himself. He wasn't ashamed of who he had become. Not anymore.

He had adapted to survive, and in doing so, had ensured the survival of others. He’d shielded his mother, manipulated circumstances to protect his brothers, and wielded influence to carve out a place for himself in the world.

Eris’s gaze locked onto you, his voice low and urgent.

“I need your help.”

"No."

“Please,” he implored, the edge of desperation creeping into his voice.

Usually, that would have worked. But not now.

“No," You snarled. "Leave. This is your last warning.”

Eris’s eyes narrowed. "I can make you listen.”

“Then do it,” you challenged. “Why haven’t you?”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening as he ran through his options. “Perhaps I’m being kind.”

You laughed bitterly. “And where has kindness led your family?”

Eris froze. Something cold ran up his spine, something uncomfortable shivering through his skin.

"What does that mean?"

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The silence around him hung heavy and suffocating.

The graves before him were smaller than he’d expected, though not lacking in elegance.

Each stone was meticulously carved from dark granite, their surfaces polished to a somber sheen. Lucien’s grave was engraved with intricate ivy vines, their tendrils curling around the stone like an embrace, while his mother's was adorned with a design of autumn leaves, their veins detailed in delicate relief.

In the center of the clearing stood a statue of The Mother, her arms outstretched in an eternal gesture of welcome or release. The marble was pristine against the surrounding decay, though the base was cloaked in patches of moss and creeping  half-dead ivy, signaling the neglect that had overtaken the once-tended space.

Fallen leaves formed a muted carpet over the ground, their colors ranging from deep russets to golden ambers. Wild grasses and brambles wove through the overgrown paths, and the contrast between the elegant memorials and the wild surroundings told Eris that no one had visited this area in a while— no one had mourned them in person.

Eris crouched beside the graves, his cloak brushing against the cold, smooth stones. His fingers traced the autumn-themed engravings, but the act felt hollow.

It was all wrong.

He needed to return to his own reality, but doubt gnawed at him, bit at his gut like an anxious dog. 

Was his reality even real anymore?

Had this been his life all along?

No, he told himself, it wasn't possible.

He could feel the pulse of power now, a flicker of something deep within. He needed to leave, to fight, to find a way to wake up. Lucien was alive, his mother was alive, you were on your knees by his body, and he was a High Lord.

A crunch broke the silence behind him, and Eris turned, his breath catching as he saw you. He rose to his feet slowly, unaware of the tear streaking down his cheek until your eyes tracked it.

A beat of silence.

"You were always too soft," you finally said.

Eris swallowed, his throat tight. "What are you doing here?"

Time after time, you always seemed to find him.

Even in this world, where everything felt twisted and wrong, where your gaze burned with a hate he had never seen before, you still found him. You stared at him now, with disdain instead of concern, with annoyance instead of curiosity. And yet, you still found him.

Here, at the graves of his family, where the autumn air clung to the stones like a silent witness, you stood before him.

You found him. 

As if you had read his thoughts, as if your mind had come to the same conclusion, you took a deep, unsteady breath. Your eyes flickered with a sense of vulnerability, barely recognizable to anyone— anyone but Eris. 

"I don’t know," you replied. "But I am."

Because, somehow, you always found him.

He stared at you for a moment. "This isn’t right."

Something softened in your features. 

You tilted your head slightly. "Then what is?"

Before he could answer, he heard something—his name. Your voice. The sound of it echoed in the air, tugging at him. Your expression shifted, the you before him mirroring his own confusion as you both looked around. The voice—real. Familiar.

He looked up at the sky, then back at you, but before he could speak, your form began to fade, and the world around him erupted into blinding white.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

authors note: eris was cruel at times bc he needed to be!! autumn and beron wouldve chewed him up and spat him out otherwise!!!

as always, thank you for reading <3

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[badlydrawndave]

Go check what time it is

You decide to do that. FUCK.

The plague of not plugging your phone in all the way strikes again. Way to go, Strider.

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (29)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: sex content, sexual tension, smut, angst, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She was awakened by the touch of his hand − his fingers combed lazily through her hair making a pleasant, hot sensation ripple through her stomach. Although she knew he always got up earlier than her, this time he stayed in bed, her body, for some reason she didn't understand, snuggled into his chest.

She felt a pinch in her heart at the thought that some part of her wanted to move away from him and another part of her just wanted him to carry on, so she decided not to open her eyes, pretending she was still asleep.

She felt him looking at her − his lips once in a while placed a soft, warm kiss on the top of her head, from which she felt a pleasant sensation in her heart.

She felt like begging him to stay in bed with her all day, to make love to her, but she knew she couldn't to this.

She didn't want him to think that what he had done, what he had hidden from her, she could forget and forgive with such ease.

"− if that's your wish, we can stay like this all day −" He whispered softly, running his fingertips over her bare neck, making her shiver.

She felt a squeeze in her throat at the thought that he knew her so well, that he was perfectly capable of recognizing that she was awake, that she was faking it. She opened her eyes and rose without a word, his arm immediately placed around her waist, trying to stop her.

"− my love −"

"− you promised me −"

She heard him let out a quiet breath and let her go, resigned, sinking back onto the sheets, burying his face in his hands. She got out of bed and called for her maidservant, feeling that if she did not disperse her thoughts she would cry again.

They ate their morning meal in silence and although she saw that he looked at her once in a while, she did not reciprocate the gaze.

"− has he tried to touch you before? − your brother-cunt, I mean −" He added mischievously, but pressed his lips together when she threw him a tired look full of disapproval.

"− no − I've already explained it to you − the grief and humiliation took his mind away −"

"− he was always mocking you to please Aegon − Baela must be delighted with how faithful he is −" He said with amusement mixed with mockery, turning his head away.

"− apparently we are both fortunate in terms of faithful men − don't you think so, husband? −" She asked him coldly; he gave her a quick, horrified look and swallowed hard, knowing full well what she was implying.

"− I have never betrayed you − not in this way −"

"− and a woman in a brothel? −" She asked matter-of-factly, thinking with surprise that she felt nothing when she said those words. She saw that he turned pale at the mere mention and furrowed his brow.

"− I've already said it − it didn't come to anything − it was not my desire to sink between the thighs of a whore that hundreds of men already had, but Aegon wouldn't listen to me −" He muttered, clearly embarrassed and irritated that she had brought up the subject again.

"− what happened there? −"

Her uncle closed his eye and hid his face in his hand, clearly losing patience.

"− why do you want to discuss it now? −"

"− I thought you wanted to be honest with me, uncle − as I can see, nothing has changed −" She said dispassionately, rising from her seat, heading towards the door. She heard him draw in a loud breath and move restlessly in his chair.

"− I − fuck − she told me − she told me that Aegon paid her for my fulfilment − I didn't want − I didn't want to lie with her, so she just put her hand in my breeches −" He muttered, stammering. She looked over her shoulder at him − his head was dropped in shame, his jaw clenched, his lower lip quivering.

"− did you wish for this? −" She asked.

She saw that he swallowed hard, looking dully at his plate.

"− …no −" He whispered.

Something in the way he looked, in that confession made her feel a need to comfort him.

He threw her a surprised, horrified look, tense as she turned back and approached him slowly. He stared at her from below, unsure of what she was trying to do − her hand sunk into his hair, pressing his face into her stomach.

She pressed her lips together as his hands tentatively clenched on the material of her gown, his nose snuggling into her flesh as if seeking refuge.

"− I was afraid that she would have told Aegon if I − that the whole of King's Landing −" He muttered in a breaking voice, as if only now did he truly understand what had happened then.

"− shhh −" She hushed him, stroking his hair tenderly and calmly, recognising that despite her anger and grief, he deserved her to show him her understanding on the matter.

She didn't want to reject him, she just wanted him to understand his mistakes.

"− are you disgusted with me? −" He asked in a trembling voice, to which she responded with a quiet, tired sigh.

"− no − it is the woman who disgusts me − what would you think of me if I told you that when I was so young, a grown man touched me between my thighs despite my pleas? − would you have been disgusted with me? −" She asked quietly; she heard him swallow hard at the thought, his fingers digging harder into the fabric of her gown.

"− I would have killed him with my own hands − I would have brought you his head −" He hissed in a way from which, for some reason, she felt not discomfort but pride.

"− and I will bring it to you −" He began, and she blinked, looking at him surprised, not understanding what he meant. When he lifted his gaze to her, she froze, seeing something in his eye that she knew perfectly well.

"− I will bring you the head of Larys Strong − I am returning to King's Landing −"

His gaze went from intense and threatening to surprised and frightened as she let go of him immediately, turning pale as she took a few steps back, breathing heavily through her mouth.

I am returning to King's Landing.

"− you want to abandon me −" She muttered with regret and disbelief feeling her whole body was trembling − he stood up from his seat, horrified at how she reacted, shaking his head.

"− no − no, I want to make sure that no one dares to act behind my back anymore − that what happened will never happen again − I need to speak with my brother −"

She looked away, embracing herself tightly with her arms, trying not to cry, trying to maintain a semblance of indifference as the cold sweat of disappointment, fear and despair ran down her spine.

"− fly with me − this time of your own free will −"

"− no −" She declared immediately, startling him. "− this is the only place where I'm safe − the only place where I'm not afraid for my life − don't expect me to go back to my golden cage −"

He looked at her dully, with a disappointment mixed with sadness. He swallowed loudly and looked to the side, licking his lower lip with his tongue.

"− I see − so I'll do what is necessary and return here − I can't predict when that will happen −" He replied coolly in a way from which she felt her heart squeeze.

She pressed her lips together in rage as she felt involuntary warm tears one by one begin to run down her cheeks and hid her face in her hands as she finally burst into a helpless, loud sob.

He drew in the air loudly, not knowing what to do − she heard his footsteps, his strong arms embraced her, hugging her into his leather tunic. She snuggled into him, tightening her fingers on the material of it, feeling hot in her lower abdomen as his familiar, longed-for scent filled her nostrils.

"− will you betray me again? − will you stab a dagger into my heart? −" She mumbled in a quivering, breaking voice, imagining that he had given up once and for all, that he had decided that she was not worth such an agony, such an effort, such a sacrifice.

She heard him huff, sighing impatiently − he shook her body as if he wanted her to wake up.

"− what are you saying? − I'm doing all this for you − only for you −" He exhaled, uttering the last sentence while pressing his lips to her ear, his hot breath enveloping her cheek. She turned her face towards him and the tips of their noses touched − they stared at each other for a moment, his thumb running tenderly over the soft, hot skin of her face.

"− let me −"

She didn't object as his arms embraced her hips and lifted her up, as he headed to the bed with her, as he laid her gently on the sheets − he watched her face with his lips parted in desire as his trembling hands uncertainly lifted the material of her gown up, exposing her bare thighs.

She heard only the rustling of the material of his breeches before they both sighed − he took his swollen, long manhood in his hand and guided its pink, fat head to her slit, pushing against it, stretching her folds to the sides.

Though he didn't even touch her, her moist, puffy walls welcomed him easily as he slid deeper into her with a soft, slow, tender thrust of his hips.

He leaned over her, nuzzling his face into her cheek − she could feel his ragged, excited, hot breath enveloping her face.

"− I love you − I love doing this to you − I love feeling you − your warm, tight insides − your scent − gods, Rhaenys −" He breathed out, beginning to move inside her, with the gentle rocking of his hips slamming his cock into her again and again with the quiet click of their shared wetness.

She felt tears of emotion, pain, affection and fear run down from the corners of her eyes onto the pillow under her head, her fingers tightening on the material of his tunic.

"− uncle −" She mumbled helplessly like a small child − she felt his manhood pulsate hard inside her, felt his fleshy, swollen lips pressed against her cheek placing wet, hot kisses on it, his thrusts deeper, surer and faster, teasing a wonderful spot deep inside her.

"− I'm here − your husband is by your side −" He whispered, his words, his pushes, his hands stroking her cheeks and thighs so tender, so warm, that she gave herself to him completely, spreading her legs wider, letting him sink deeper into her with his low groan of pleasure.

Never had they made love so quietly, so close together, so helpless and vulnerable, never had she felt so frightened and so safe at the same time, his scent, his breath, the fact that she felt him deep inside her soothed her nerves.

"− don't leave −" She mewled, cuddling his body into hers, listening to the slickness of their naked bodies, the wonderful, tickling heat intensifying in her lower abdomen, her nipples under her gown growing hard and sensitive, her lips parted wide as his thighs slapped against her buttocks again and again.

"− I'll come back to you − I promise − I promise −" He exhaled, his lips, his tongue clinging to hers in sticky, dirty, loud kisses from which her fleshy muscles clenched around him, sucking him inside, both of them soaking wet from her moisture.

"− your seed − I want it inside me, uncle −" She mewled throwing her head back, feeling the tension inside her reach its peak, her hips responding greedily to his thrusts − he sighed loudly, surprised, rooting into her at last with all his might, pressing her body against the bed, which began to creak loudly beneath them.

"− I know − 'm close − Rhaenys − fuck-fuck-fuckkk −" He groaned, closing his eye, his hands finding hers and intertwining their fingers as his warm spend filled her womb, his lips parted in relief and pleasure. He pressed his face into the hollow of her neck not slowing down his pace, giving her what she needed until she came.

She reached her peak feeling it, clenching her fingers against his, moaning helplessly beneath him, trying to calm the convulsions of her body as his hips still rocked deep inside her for a moment longer.

"− Rhaenys − Rhaenys −"

They lay like this in silence, holding hands, trying to calm their shaky breaths, his manhood still pulsing inside her for a while, soft and warm.

She thought that never before had she felt so secure, so fulfilled as she did now, with him, with this man.

She wasn't sure where her body ended and his began − it seemed to her that they intertwined like vines and had long since become one.

She had always known that something was missing in her without him.

A single, solitary tear ran down the side of her face at the thought that he would no longer be with her.

He felt it, felt the moisture on her cheek and lifted his gaze to her.

"− no − no, my love − shhh −" He hushed her, stroking her hot face with his thumb, wiping a wet trail off it.

He gave her a tender kiss, long and drawn out, the way she had always imagined a man would kiss the woman he loved.

She felt hot in her heart at the thought.

Her mother, on hearing that her uncle intended to return to King's Landing, was not pleased, but neither did she object when she learned her daughter intended to stay by her side. She allowed him to leave; he did not, however, receive a warm farewell and, as she understood, did not expect one at all.

She was the only person to lead him away − the sun shone high in the sky as they approached Vhagar, her gown, his cloak and their hair blowing in the wind. He turned towards her, his hand raised to her face, seeing the sadness painted on it.

"− my wife −" He said quietly and kissed her forehead, like when they were little children.

He did this whenever he wanted to reassure her, when they were alone and he was unable to find the words to give her comfort.

She felt a squeeze in her heart at that thought, that he remembered it, that, like her, he held all those memories deep inside his heart.

"Why can't I have a beautiful hair colour like you, uncle? It's not fair. Many women in the world have dark hair, but not white." She muttered, fiddling with the fabric of her gown as she sat beside him on the wide windowsill in his chamber, a book in his hand.

They spoke of House Targaryen and Old Valyria, reflecting on their trip to Essos and what they wanted to see there first.

She lifted her gaze to him and saw that he was looking at her with his eyes wide open, as if there was something about the subject she had brought up that frightened him for some reason. He grunted quietly and licked his lower lip, swallowing hard, looking away.

"Well…I understand your sadness. But that was heaven's decision." He replied calmly, turning the page, apparently wanting to close the discussion quickly.

"Aren't you disappointed that your future wife doesn't have snow-white hair?" She mumbled in a breaking voice, pressing her lips together, feeling her chubby cheeks turn red from the tears that had welled up under her eyelids.

He looked at her, shocked to hear her question, his lips parted when he saw that she was on the verge of bursting into sobs.

She was afraid she had been a disappointment to him.

"− I − well − I never considered it − I don't feel any disappointment about it − I am fond of your dark, long eyelashes − they make your eyes seem even bigger − your curls are soft to the touch −" He muttered, apparently trying to get anything out of himself and her face lit up with a wide, grateful smile. He looked at her and sighed finally, the corner of his mouth also lifting up lazily.

"− don't think about it −" He hummed, laying his hand on the back of her head and leaned in, placing a warm, soft kiss on her forehead.

All she could think about was that, that sunny summer day when his hand dropped as he stepped back and turned, walking towards Vhagar, warm tears of grief, sadness and helplessness running down her cheeks one after another.

For the next few days, she felt as she had for the eight years she had been separated from him.

She locked herself in her chamber, eating almost nothing, reading and reflecting on everything that had happened.

She shuddered when she heard a knock on her door. She wanted to say that she longed to be left alone, but she heard a familiar voice from behind them.

"May I come in?"

Baela.

She swallowed quietly and rose to sit on her bed, sighing.

"Yes."

The door opened and her stepsister stepped inside, closing it behind her, bestowing upon her a calm, warm smile. She walked over to her and sat on the bed beside her, looking down at her hands.

"Did Jace tell you what he did?" She asked uncertainly.

She wanted her brother to admit it himself, to take responsibility for his actions.

He wasn't a little child anymore.

Baela looked at her and snorted.

"Yes. He asked me to apologise to you. He said he was unable to come here to do it himself out of shame. The sight of your uncle took his mind away." She muttered disapprovingly, shaking her head and running her hand over her face. She looked at her finally, concern and compassion in her gaze.

"How do you feel?" She asked quietly, her fingers tentatively reaching out to hers. She squeezed them, wanting to let her understand that her closeness meant a lot to her even though she couldn't express it.

"Empty." She whispered.

Baela pressed her lips together at her words.

"Because he's gone?"

"Yes."

"Is he coming back?"

"That's what he said."

They were silent for a moment, looking towards the window, contemplating.

"What he did…he shocked me. He's obsessed with you."

She furrowed her brow at her words.

"My brother?" She asked uncertainly, frightened by the thought that it might have been worse than she thought.

"Your husband."

She swallowed hard, feeling her heart heat at her words for some reason − she knew her cheeks lit up with a flush of shame at the memory of what he had done in front of them.

"− forgive me − I don't know what got into all of us then − you must have been embarrassed −" She muttered, lowering her gaze. Baela giggled at her words.

"− no, just the opposite − I felt jealous − when he embraced you, when he touched you, he wasn't looking at us anymore − he was looking at you − how madly in love do you have to be with someone to do something like this? −" She asked with amusement.

For some reason her words and light-hearted approach made her feel better. Her fingers clamped tighter on hers.

"I missed you. It's only now that I realised that. You were always so good to me." She mumbled in shame, thinking of how she had never shown her as much warmth as she should have, sunk in her grief and pain.

"You've always been that way towards me too."

She shook her head.

"No. I couldn't let you into my heart. I couldn't −"

"You suffered. I know, you don't have to explain it to me. I never held it against you." She said calmly. As she extended her hand to her, Baela smiled and sighed as if relieved, laying down beside her, pressing her cheek against her breast.

"− what are you going to do with Jace? −" She asked uncertainly, stroking her shoulder, her pleasant floral oils teasing her nose. Baela laughed under her breath.

"− I'll raise him −"

They spent the evening together, conversing about everything and nothing, as if they were trying to recapture lost time. Rhaena eventually joined them, looking for her sister, finally laying down next to them.

They tried to forget, at least for a moment, what was happening around them.

It was as if she had never left Dragonstone.

After a few days, a servant interrupted her morning meal by saying that a message had arrived for her from King's Landing. She blinked, shocked, wondering what it could have been about, convinced that something bad had happened.

She nodded and dismissed the boy, ripping off the lac and unrolling the parchment as soon as he closed the door behind him.

I cannot sleep. When you are not by my side, I have nightmares. I dream that you are dying. In a sleep. In a fire. In childbirth. I think I am losing my mind. Write me immediately when you receive this message that you are alive and safe. Send it to Harrenhal, for there I set out on my mission to end the life of Larys Strong once and for all. You will have his head. Aemond

She swallowed loudly, feeling the rapid pounding of her heart, joy and disbelief, for it was the first time in her life that she was the one to receive a letter from him.

The letter he had written her before he flew to Storm's End had been an act of desperation, but now it was a confession of his free will, a desire to communicate to her what he had felt and experienced during their separation.

She was touched by it.

She immediately sat down at her desk and began to write, not wanting him to wait any longer than necessary for her reply.

I am alive, my husband, and I am in good health. Do not fret, I know I am safe here. I ask you, whatever you intend to do, not to take the life of Alys Rivers. I am owed a debt to her and her death is not my desire. Return to Dragonstone as soon as you can. Rhaenys

She rolled the parchment in her hand and summoned her servant, ordering that the message be sent to Harrenhal and that it be passed directly into her husband's hands.

The next few days passed as she waited for his reply − she feared that something had happened, that her father's brother would realise why he had come there, that he was in danger.

One morning when she got up she simply fainted, her head hitting the table − she lay like that for a long time, unconscious until one of the servants came into her chamber, wanting to help her dress.

Her mother panicked and immediately summoned the maester, ordering him to examine her. When she woke up, she heard her conversation with Daemon, and recognised their voices despite not seeing them.

"Is he absolutely sure?"

"Yes, he had no doubt. It may be a sign, Daemon. I −" Her mother paused, turning towards her, hearing that she was trying to get up.

"− no − no, my love − lie down and rest −" She said with concern, placing her hand on her shoulder, the other fixing a pillow under her head, warmth, tenderness, concern in her eyes.

"− what happened? −" She mumbled, feeling that her head ached badly. Her mother smiled at her in a way that warmed her heart.

"− you are carrying a child inside you −"

[lady-of-tearshed]

Rude awakening

A/N: Here's a little treat while you wait for the Azriel fic that's coming this week.

Summary: Eris has to, once again, bring Lucien along with him on the long-awaited date planned with you. He can't help but wonder how having a child with you would look like...

Word count: 961

Warnings: Based on true event 🤣 maybe like slight angst.

The house had been cleaned and now smells delightful, you were wearing the pretty red dress Eris had gifted you on your last birthday, and you managed to do your hair and makeup perfectly… Everything was perfect for your long-awaited planned date. You and Eris haven’t been able to have much time together in the last few years, Beron delegated more and more responsibilities to his heir and eldest son since Lucien's birth.

 Adorable little Lulu brought a lot of tension between the High Lord of Autumn and his mate unconsciously. The eldest of now six brothers felt a huge sense of responsibility towards the new addition to the Vanserra family. His other brothers couldn’t care less about the youngling. No one would have thought that Eris Vanserra, older than the toddler by a little more than a century, would be the first one to rush to little Lucien and cover his ears, taking him out of the house on a fun adventure he would tell him when a fight would burst inside the Forest House. 

Beron was supposed to be out on duty in Summer Court for the week, which assured you and Eris to be able to enjoy a peaceful date at your little cabin you called your house without him worrying about Lucien’s safety, since the little one would be safely tucked in his mother’s arms back at home. 

You basically run to open the door when a soft knock resonates on the wooden surface. No words can describe the surprise, and just very slight disappointment, when Eris shows up with an overjoyed Lucien sitting on his shoulders. “Y/N! Y/N!” Lucien squirms on Eris's shoulders, making him groan in annoyance when his sibling tugs on his dark auburn hair. 

Lucien leans little grabby hands down to you, motioning you to pick him up into your arms. Eris leans forward slowly, leaving a quick peck on your lips, as you pick up Lucien from his shoulders. You spin the toddler in your arms which makes him burst into laughter. You kiss his pink cheeks before putting him down on the ground. “Hi, Lulu.” As soon as the youngling's feet hit the ground, he rushes to the living room and stares at your fish tank, like he always does when Eris brings him with him here. 

You move from the door to let Eris walk into the house. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed as he takes in the sight of you. He wipes a hand on his hand and you can clearly sense his stress and annoyance. You stroke his forearm slowly and move his hand from his face. He grins sadly down at you and kisses your lips slowly, sighing against them while he enjoys the taste he had missed for far too long. “Y/N… I’m so sorry… He came back earlier from Summer Court and-” 

“It’s fine, Eris. Really. You don’t have to explain yet…” You whisper and give him one last quick peck before pulling away reluctantly from his strong and warm embrace. You both didn’t want Lucien to know about the reason he and Eris needed to head out of the Forest House for at least a few hours.

—

The two of them are sitting down at the table, and you hum a song softly while scrubbing the dishes from the dinner the three of you just shared. Eris and Lucien were both drawing a portrait of each other, with the crucial rule of not looking at the other contestant's paper before their ‘masterpiece’ was done. You dry your hands on the towel and look over Lucien's shoulder at his… interesting portrait of his older brother. “Oh! I forgot something.” Lucien then turns his head to you and frowns. “Hey! No peeking!” “I’m not a contestant though…” You can’t help but giggle at the youngling's serious face. “Oh. Yeah. You’re right.” He says before sticking his tongue back out, concentrating on his drawing. 

You walk around the table and lean over Eris' shoulder to stare at his drawing. The portrait was a picture-perfect representation of Lucien. “Wow… It’s pretty.” You whisper, and kiss the shell of his ear, making his cheek heat slightly at your praise. “You should see the ones I draw of you…” You purr seductively into his neck. “Oh yeah? Guess you’ll need to bring them over so I can judge that by myself. Next date, maybe?” He smile and looks at Lucien's serious face, concentrating on his drawing. “Gods… makes me want to have kids with you when the three of us spend time like that…” 

You chuckle and quickly lean to capture his lips, but Lucien's voice stops you from doing so. “Done!” He shouts and lifts his paper in the air. He slides down his chair and runs to Eris to wave the paper inches from his face. He scrunch his nose and slightly move the paper away from his face to take a good look at the drawing. You clasp your hand on your mouth to prevent a wave of laughter from exploding. You just realized what ‘something’ Lucien had told you he almost forgot to add on Eris' portrait… 

Eris' finger drags to the corner of his brow and frowns. “Is it that noticeable..?” “Well, I can see it’s on your face! Mama says we have pimples when we stress too much, that’s why I have none!” Lucien speaks up, smiling brightly. 

It’s all too much to contain your laughter. You burst into laughter, holding your painful stomach, unable to stop laughing at Lucien’s innocence and pure honesty. “What did you say about wanting children now, Er?” He only rolls his eyes and thanks his little brother for the drawing.

A/N: Yeah. It happened. We brought my boyfriend's half-sister to the restaurant for her 8th birthday (they have an 11 years age gap), and they were having a drawing contest on paper aprons while we waited for our meals. She drew him with literally the ONLY pimple he had. 🤣 And I was like, "Lol. THAT'S what having kids is like!!"

[kandlewick]

i'll dry the villain's tears pt.1

you get reincarnated into a role that became the breaking point of the villain's story and you, be it an unwillingness to cause them harm or a desire to survive, must work hard to make sure they grow into a better (or at least safer) person.

all entries are meant to be read as platonic. All are meant to be taken place in the TWST universe accurate to the game.

When you awaken one morning, you find yourself nursing the worst headache of your life. Your eyes refuse to open as you hear a door open and the sound of shuffling footsteps. You quietly will whoever entered your room to leave but you can't even bring yourself to speak a single word and instead, only a huff of breath escapes your lips.

You can almost feel tears build up in your eyes as you feel a blissfully cold towel be pressed against your forehead and the small fingers that accompany it. Though they shake from nerves, they know what they're doing despite how young they obviously appear to be. With what is last of your strength, you force your eyes to open and quietly watch as the young boy in front of you lowers his hands until they reach his chest, his head tucked far between his shoulders, almost as if he was frightened of you waking up.

"I'm sorry," He whispered, gray eyes nervously swaying, "I thought that - you - you were burning up and the doctor said... I know it's not perfect, but I got worried and..."

His little body hid his shakes well but his voice betrayed him. He wanted to make sure you were ok but he was worried his attempts weren't good enough. For your sake or his own, you weren't entirely sure.

"Thank you..."

He almost didn't hear your soft whisper but when he did, he seemed to bloom. With pride, with happiness, with acceptance. As if that one little sincere word was the nicest thing he's ever heard in his entire existence.

"Get some rest, Mother," the boy spoke softly, his words more firm in their affection, "I'll make sure to wake you for your dinner. As soon as Mr. Bandersnatch heard that you fell ill and, although you said you don't much care for him, he's been causing quite a fuss a.."

Everything after that was lost to you as you faded away into a deep and dreamless sleep, the only thought left on the tip of your tongue was a quiet curse.

You've been reborn as the tyrant Queen of Heart's mother.

You awaken one day with perhaps the largest bump you've ever seen placed nearly perfectly center on your forehead. You don't remember how you got it but the two princes never left your side (Falena would not stop crying and despite his claims of laughter at your expense, you can tell his brother was equally worried), only being dragged away by their tutor as soon as they let their guard down.

You looked down at the hands on your lap and clutched your fists open and closed over and over again. Gone were your long fingers and wide palms, instead you look down at the chubby hands of a child no more then six.

From what your handmaiden had told you, the three of you had been playing spelldrive together and Leona, in his eagerness to best his brother, had shot the disk perhaps a bit too strong and instead of flying in to the goal, it had changed course and struck you hard enough to knock you unconscious for the rest of the early hours of the morning.

You remembered this event. It's what led to Falena's betrothed sticking closer to him and farther from Leona. What once was a well balanced trio had become a teeter totter with Falena and her on one side and Leona alone, unable to change anything with what little weight he had to offer.

Falena's betrothed; that was you. From the story you had read, the two were deeply in love and ruled the kingdom hand in hand towards a brighter future... all while unknowingly leaving the youngest brother in the shadows, forgotten and alone and desperate. You couldn't afford for that to happen.

You don't see the two of them until late that evening. Falena looked exhausted, like the tutoring had beaten any last bit of energy he could spare and with a loud yawn, had eagerly hopped into the cot next to you on your right. Leona was slow to join but settled himself to your left, his shoulder bumping yours.

"You look ridiculous," he spoke aloud, glancing at your bruised forehead. You just gave him your most unimpressed stare you could manage.

"Aaah! They're bleeding!"

"Ahahaha!"

"Ow!! They're biting me!! Get a teacher!!"

You couldn't see anything past the arms and tails flailing around you as you reached out and clawed and bit at anything that dared get too close to you, lashing out with everything your new and tiny body would allow. Your teeth were currently sunk deep in the tail flesh of a mermaid boy, his fists digging into your hair as he tried to pull you off of him.

Blinking past the shock, you could only bite harder, unwilling to let go of your prey. Despite the danger you were posing, you couldn't remember why you were biting this hard. Why this particular mermaid? What had he done that was worthy of your bite? It all didn't matter much as you were quickly hoisted up by the back of your neck and away from the shrieking mass of children. You could taste blood and flesh between your sharp teeth and you loudly spit it out, earning an even bigger wave of a response from the students.

"This is why we can't have piranhamer with the other students!" Cried an adult, "They only cause trouble!" They looked towards the source of the problem. Away from the other children and the source of your outuburst lied cowering octomer, spluttering and crying.

"What happened?" Your teacher seethed, eyes abruptly turning to you.

"I-I," you were taken aback that no one seemed to be comforting the child who stood alone and in a fit of rage unknown to you, you kicked and clawed at the hand holding you, your tiny fists barely making them flinch "They were bullying him!! I hate it!! I'll bite them over and over until they apologize!!"

"He's weird!" One mermaid child cried, her arms crossed, "And he made us lose in our swimming game because he's so slow and f-"

The teacher quickly reaffirmed their grip on you as you lunged towards her, your jaw snapping loudly causing her to shriek and dart behind the others, her tail barely peaking out from the crowd of mer.

Two eels watched in mild curiosity as you continued gnawing on your teachers arm, one with his arms crossed and another with an almost devilish grin on his face.

"Eheheh~ I like that one, Azul! Neh neh, Jade~ We should keep the little bitey one!"

"Fufufu~"

"Snff... snff......"

[da-rulah]

Rituale Septem - Day 6: Greed

Pairing: (Swiss x Dewdrop x f!reader)

Summary: Terzo takes a step back from guiding you in the ritual, but he fails to tell you why. He sends his Ghouls to you instead - luckily for you, those Ghouls know just what you need to forget about Papa Emeritus III. If even just for a moment...

Rating: Mature, MDNI 18+

Word Count: 8.3k

Warnings: Angst, threesome, fingering, oral (f receiving), squirting, p in v sex, double penetration, some m+m elements (potentially a sexual awakening...), double creampie, mind break, cum eating, multiple orgasms, overstimulation 

AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

A/N: Just popping here to say again, the Ghouls all have silver masks and are trainees under Terzo's reign for the time being. I don't know Terzo's Ghouls well enough to be able to write their characters. Thank you for understanding - Enjoy!🖤

Prev: Day 5 - Envy | Next: Day 7: Pride

October 30th 

What a fucking idiota. 

Terzo reprimanded himself as he stood in the doorway to his office. After a night of sleeplessness, tossing and turning with images of you screwing his half-brother or Satan-forbid, your tear-stained cheeks he’d missed when you watched him railing Christine in front of you, he was exhausted. It was karmic, and he knew that. He deserved it.  

He stared at the chairs in front of his desk, reliving the events of yesterday. He knew the mistakes he’d made, and he wasn’t sure how to make up for them. But Primo had been extremely useful and given him direction, at least for now. He would be taking a step back; you didn’t need him to complete your goal. 

“Good morning, Papa,” Christine greeted from behind him, somewhat hesitantly as if she knew of his fragile state of mind. Terzo jumped even at that, turning his head as if shaken from a dream.  

“Oh, uh... sì, buongiorno,” he dismissed her, stepping into his office and heading for his desk. Christine gingerly followed him in, standing between those damn chairs and the door.  

“Did, um... Did you talk to Sister ____?” she asked, worry in her tone.  

Terzo was instantly transported back to the moment he’d found you in Copia’s workshop, walking into... that. 

“Um... not exactly,” he sighed. Sister Christine rolled her eyes. 

“Papa, seriously? You can’t just hide with your tail between your legs, you should-” 

“She was a little busy,” he interrupted, sternly. “Don’t worry, Christine. I got what was coming to me.”  

Christine’s brows furrowed in confusion, her shoulders sagging in defeat. She saw the pained look on his face, how different he looked today. His face looked puffy with a lack of sleep, his paints thinly applied and not to the usual crisp standard. Even his hair wasn’t styled so neatly, parting in the middle and falling over his forehead. She wasn’t sure what had happened when he’d gone to find you yesterday, but she also knew she shouldn’t ask.  

“O-okay... Well, Sister Imperator left a note for you on my desk this morning,” Terzo didn’t hide the groan of disdain at the mention of Imperator, “I know, I know... She requires your assistance in setting up the Great Hall for the All Hallow’s Ball tomorrow. Apparently, your opinions on decorative party supplies are a necessity.”  

“Va bene, (Okay,) I’ll go soon. I just need to do something first... Would you leave me?” he asked.  

“Of course,” she nodded with a sympathetic smile, and left him to his own solitude.  

Terzo dug around his desk for his stationary set, pulling out a clean parchment and his expensive ink pen, and began to write...  

Sorella ______,  

I have every belief you can finish this on your own. You do not need my assistance, or my guidance. With just two sins left, I’m positive you can achieve what you wish for. 

Enjoy the Ball tomorrow evening.  

Papa Emeritus III 

He had hoped his belief in you would shine through his brief note. Apologies felt like an insult to your intelligence, and any kind of confession of feelings felt too distracting to your task at hand. This would have to do. 

He folded the parchment, sealing it with a fresh wax seal, and got up to leave, heading towards the Great Hall. He would hand the note to one of his Ghouls on his way and ask them to drop it off, leaving you to complete whichever of the two sins you chose today in peace, and without his interference. 

He owed you that much, he thought. 

The knock at your door that morning startled you, completely unexpected. A part of you, childishly, hoped that it was him... Maybe he’d come to apologise, giving you an opportunity to do the same. Hell, even if he showed up pretending nothing had happened and wanted to jump right back into the ritual, you’d let him. You just wished you’d see his face on the other side of that door; the rest you’d figure out.  

But you were sorely disappointed.  

Instead, Swiss and Dewdrop stood shoulder to shoulder, a piece of folded parchment in Swiss’ hand. 

“Good morning, Sister ______!” Swiss chirped, entirely too giddily for such an early call. Dewdrop remained as silent and stoic as ever. 

“Oh... Hi.” You sounded disappointed even to your own ears. Swiss’ signature smile dropped, and behind his mask his eyes squinted in suspicion.  

“Well... okay, then...” he shook it off, unsure if he should pry. “Got a thing for ya!” he held the parchment out to you, notably with the wax seal facing up and proudly displaying Papa’s crest indented into it. You stared at it for a beat too long, and Swiss shook it in front of your eyes, awakening you from your own analytical trance. You took it from him, stepping back into your apartment and dropping lazily with a huff onto your couch. Swiss invited himself in, sitting on the opposite end whilst Dew hovered in the doorway, shutting the door behind him.  

You popped the seal on the paper, unfolding it to see Papa’s handwriting in a short and frankly abrupt note. Your eyes skimmed it, reading and re-reading over and over, and getting visibly more annoyed with each read through. 

“I have every belief you can finish this on your own.” 

On your own.  

Was he fucking serious? He was just... abandoning you? No apologies, no explanations... he couldn’t even be bothered to show his fucking face today, getting his Ghouls to do his dirty work?  

“You fucking asshole...” you muttered, screwing the note up tightly in your fist and throwing it to the floor, slamming your back against the couch and folding your arms like a toddler in a tantrum.  

An awkward silence fell over the room, losing yourself in your own thoughts again. So, he was just going to leave you to perform pride and greed alone, with no guidance, not even a hint at what the hell you could possibly do for either one? He'd ruined it. He was spoiling the entire ritual, after you’d done everything you could to stay on task and with just two days left.  

Your mind worked itself into a dizzying array of possible scenarios you might be able to play out for the remaining sins, trying desperately to think of something, anything you could do today for either one. Nothing stuck, too complicated by the confusing mix of anger and disappointment in the pit of your stomach. 

You’d almost forgotten about the two Ghouls in your presence until Swiss spoke up. 

“Sister, are you alright? What did he do?” Swiss’ hand rested on your shoulder, bringing you back to reality.  

“He’s just... leaving me to it,” you spat. Swiss was even more confused.  

“To what?” he asked. “I don’t understand...” he looked up to Dew, who just shrugged with a shake of his head.  

And so, you explained. You told them of the ritual, of each sin you’d performed – conveniently leaving out of course the part where you were now harbouring some very confusing feelings about Papa Emeritus III – and what it was all for. To your surprise, Swiss and Dew listened along attentively, without judgement. Dew came to sit beside you on the armrest of the couch too, his attention on you and allowing you to vent. You’d half expected some clever quips to come from Swiss but no, they both just listened. 

“And now, for some reason, he’s just abandoned me and said ‘okay, ______, figure it out yourself’.” Of course, you had an idea what that reason was... clearly you’d pissed him off, but he’d started it when he dove dick first into your friend and laughed at you for having any kind of negative reaction!  

Reality set in, and tears welled in your eyes. You really were going to fumble this ritual, now. You wouldn’t get to hear the Dark One’s voice, you wouldn’t get the guidance you had been so desperate for and frankly, you were beginning to question once again your place in the Ministry. You may as well start packing your bags now... 

Swiss and Dew shared a look you missed; one of sympathy, like they both wanted to do something to console you. They didn’t want to see a sister lose her faith, particularly not one as kind to the Ghouls as you.  

“Well hey, maybe we can help think of something?” Swiss slapped Dew’s back from behind you to encourage him. He nodded vigorously, placing his hand on your other shoulder. “What sins do you have left?” 

“Pride and greed...” Your voice shook with unshed tears. “What the hell am I going to do?” 

Swiss thought for a moment, shuffling closer to you on the couch to wrap an arm around you and pull you to lay on his chest. He rubbed his hand up and down your arm while you burrowed your face into his neck, allowing yourself a moment to collect yourself, take some breaths.  

“Pride is a tough one, that’s about thinking of yourself before another, like being narcissistic or vain, but it can come down to something as simple as self-respect. How you embody that in sin, I don’t really know. I always thought it was a stupid one. What’s wrong with loving yourself, hm? Never got God’s problem with that. Think he just didn’t want people thinking they were better than him...” he scoffed. “Ironic that he made pride a sin when there’s never been a deity with a higher superiority complex.” 

You chuckled at that; he was right. But it wasn’t giving you much confidence in how to perform this... 

“But greed is easier. That’s about having an excessive, selfish desire to acquire something... Like power or money. Could be... pleasure...” he hesitated there, looking down at you through his mask. “I mean, you could... desire excessive pleasure?” he asked.  

You sat up, brain ticking over what he’d said. He was right again, of course. You could...  

“I think that, if you wanted to... we could help with that?” Swiss tested the waters, looking up at Dew who nodded slowly in agreement. “Only if you want us to, of course...”  

“You’d do that for me?” you asked, sitting up and looking between the two Ghouls. The idea of it far from horrified you. In fact, you had been a little disappointed after your encounter with Phantom that you were too exhausted to find out what Swiss and Dew could do for you. And let’s face it, you were running out of options and time. You had no doubt at all in their ability to enact this sin with you, and you trusted them enough to do so.  

“Sweetheart...” Swiss moved in closer, his lips hovering by your ear, tone deepening significantly, “Do you have any idea how disappointed we were when we realised our dear Phantom had exhausted you the other day?” 

Swiss’ breath was impossibly hot against your neck, spreading goosebumps over your skin where he moved your hair behind your shoulder with one finger. Dew slid onto the couch on your other side, trapping you between the two of them. He stayed silent as he always did, but his eyes sparkled with an interest that hadn’t been there a few moments ago.  

“I-I was disappointed... too...” you stuttered as you felt Swiss’ teeth nipping at your ear lobe, Dew’s hand coming to rest on your knee and drawing delicate patterns into your skin where the hem of your skirt couldn’t quite reach. This was moving fast, but frankly, you didn’t have time to hesitate – you'd only talk yourself out of it, and you didn’t want to do that. 

“We could... make you feel good, Sister...” Swiss teased, pressing his lips to the spot on your neck under your ear that sent a wave of arousal through your body. “Just say yes...” he whispered into your neck, drawing patterns with the tip of his nose while Dew’s fingertips travelled up your thigh.  

You had to admit, you were easily affected by the Ghouls and their small gestures of affection. At a time when affection was exactly what you needed, you weren’t all that concerned where you got it from. Clearly, it wouldn’t come from the one place you wish it would... And this served a purpose, didn’t it? A means to an end, if you will. Why deny yourself the pleasure? Why deny yourself all the work you’d already put in?  

“Fuck it...” you breathed, rolling your head back as Dew attached his lips to the other side of your neck, suckling softly at the skin where previous bruises had yellowed.  

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, we intend to...” Swiss promised, a new fervour in the way he kissed your neck, his hand coming to grip your waist where Dew was pressed against you.  

You were surrounded by them both, their hands wandering, their mouths working you to a heightened state of arousal. Dew’s hand began to squeeze at your inner thigh under your skirt, his nails scratching the skin and coaxing your thighs apart for him.  

You turned your head to face Dew, his eyes hooded and hazy behind the glint of his silver mask. You could see him biting his lip, searching your face for any protests while his hands squeezed and scratched higher and higher up the inside of your thigh but he found nothing. Instead, with a particular sharp scratch to the skin you found yourself whining and latching your lips to his, pulling him to you by his uniform. Dew groaned, shoving his palm against your clothed mound for you to rut yourself again.  

Swiss chuckled against your neck, sinking his teeth into the flesh just enough to cause a sharpness, never enough to burst the skin. You weren’t sure you’d mind if he did at this point, but instead he laved his tongue over the spot, gripping at your waist even tighter and grinding his crotch into your hipbone.  

If anyone had seen the three of you right now, they’d accuse you of being horny teenagers, dry humping and making out unrestricted and messy. Truth be told you allowed yourself to lose control, trusting that the two Ghouls entrapping you would take care of you.  

Dew’s hand pressed so tightly against your heat, pressing your panties into you and dampening them on your arousal. You ground your hips as you kissed him, tongues dancing together whilst shockwaves pulsed through your clit. Your whimpers were swallowed by Dew’s mouth, earning a low growl from deep within his chest. 

Swiss’ cock had hardened in his pants, still grinding into your hip from the angle he was sat beside you. He’d curled himself around you in a way that allowed him access still to your neck, stretched to accommodate Dew on the other side. He purred into your neck, his instincts taking over.  

“Sister, tell us what you want...” he pleaded, reaching to grope at your breast through your habit. You parted from Dew and turned your head to him.  

“Make me feel good... Until I beg you to stop,” you grinned wildly, grabbing him by his waistcoat and crashing your lips to his. Dew watched hungrily, his hand becoming more calculated and switching to his fingers circling your clit over your panties. Your body writhed where you sat, overwhelmed with the feeling of hands everywhere, pleasure tingling through every nerve.  

As your tongue swirled with Swiss’, he unbuttoned your habit, reaching underneath to push his hand under the cup of your bra – another matching piece that Dew was marvelling now he could see your panties under his hand. Swiss broke your kiss, getting a good look at your body now exposed to him. 

“Such a pretty set, sweetheart,” he practically sang, ogling the deep green embroidery of the set you’d put on today, still dressing up for whoever had been lucky enough to see them today. “You put this on for your Papa?” he teased.  

Now, logically you knew Swiss meant no harm with that question. He wasn’t teasing maliciously.  

And yet, somewhat illogically, the mere mention of his name was enough to rouse an anger in you that had you slapping your hand over his lips and holding him still in front of you.  

“Don’t fucking mention him. Just give me what I want, Swiss,” you demanded, resigning to your greed already. You pushed him with all your might, ignoring Dew for the moment and forcing Swiss onto his back. His eyes sparkled behind his mask with mischief, hands reaching for your bare thighs as you straddled him and ripped your unbuttoned habit from your arms, throwing it to the floor. 

Dew quickly moved with you, sitting himself between Swiss’ ankles and shuffling until his chest met your back. His hands gripped your hips and sat you down on Swiss’ bulge, controlling the way you ground your pussy against him. For all of his silence, Dew’s actions spoke volumes. He guided you as you rutted against Swiss, taking your pleasure while he nipped into your bare shoulder.  

With a rhythm created, Dew could focus his hands on your body, removing your bra and pinching at your pebbled nipples. Swiss groaned beneath you, the sight of you mixed with the grind on his cock an intoxicating cocktail.  

“Dew... Dew, get these off her, man,” he pants, pinging at the waistband of your panties. Dew complied, dropping his hands to them and ripping without hesitation, tearing into the material and flinging it elsewhere. “Hope you didn’t like them too much, sweetheart,” Swiss smirked, undoing the zipper of his trousers between you and hissing when you rubbed your folds over his knuckles as he did.  

As Swiss began to undress himself, Dew took it upon himself to make sure you weren’t going a second without stimulation. From behind you, he slid his hands under you, pushing his fingers forwards through your soaked folds until his fingertips circled your clit. Your back arched at the sensation, reaching behind you and around the back of his neck to pull his chest against you. He alternated between dragging his fingers through your slick folds and circling your clit over and over whilst you dug your nails into the back of his head, pulling his lips down to yours to muffle your moans in a desperate kiss.  

Beneath you, Swiss managed to remove his waistcoat and shirt and push his pants down enough to release his length. He stroked himself as he watched the display above him, seeing you get closer and closer to your first orgasm. He began to talk you through it, coaxing you more and more while Dew’s fingers took on a mind of their own.  

“Feels good, huh, baby?” he laughed after a particularly lavish moan escaped your lips and your hips bucked against Dew’s fingers. “Push ‘em inside, Dew. Let her feel you,” he encouraged. Dew did just that, slipping two fingers inside your heat from behind you. You cursed into his mouth, clenching around the intrusion that felt so fucking welcome you almost toppled over the edge just at that.  

Dew growled, curling his fingers as he fucked them in and out of you. The coil inside you was tightening impossibly fast, and within a minute you knew you were set to burst. 

“Are you gonna cum on his fingers, sweetheart? Come on... Give us one,” Swiss cheered you on, stroking himself and using his free hand to cup your breast, pinching your nipple to punctuate his words. When you bucked and writhed, orgasm finally hitting you he praised you, “There we go, hm? Good girl... Cum on his fingers baby, that’s it...” 

You whined and clenched on Dew, biting down on his bottom lip and he fucked his hand into you to get you through it. When the pleasure ebbed away, you leaned back against him, turning your head to look down at Swiss who was smirking, slowly stroking at his now leaking cock. Now able to see his chest, you realised just how built he was underneath his shirt and waistcoat. A thin layer of chest hair contoured his chest and abdomen, right down to where he was touching himself; it drove you wild. 

“Good?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.  

“Mhm. Want more,” you grinned, bending at the waist to hover over him, your hand swatted his away as you leaned.  

“More?” he teased, “Greedy little girl...” You giggled, beginning to stroke him and pushing your lips to his to silence him. Behind you, Dew was busy taking in the view as he sucked on the fingers he’d dove inside you, cleaning himself off. From where you bent over Swiss, he had the perfect view of your rounded and still bruised ass and your exposed, glistening cunt. Tasting you on his fingers ignited something inside him, growling as he licked every last drop.  

Swiss noticed his friend’s eyes trained on your core, hearing his growls and broke your kiss to nod in his direction and show you what you’d caused. You followed his gaze and watched the man who was hypnotised by your taste... 

“I think he likes you,” Swiss flirted, “why don’t you let him have a taste, sweetheart? I’m sure he can give you another with his tongue...” A deeper, louder growl came from Dew’s throat. “See?” 

Looking behind you, you saw Dew’s gaze had fallen on yours as if waiting for permission... “Don’t stop until I’m cumming, Dew,” you demanded, wiggling your hips in front of him.  

Like a man possessed, Dew shuffled back on the couch and bent down, shoving his masked face into your ass and laving his tongue over your core. You fell forward at the force, slamming to Swiss’ chest where he held you tightly against him. Laying against him you could do nothing to pump his length in your hand, but Swiss didn’t mind. Plenty of time for that later... For now, he was enjoying the look on your face as Dew dove into your pussy, sucking and licking and nipping at your clit.  

“Fuck, Dew... So good...” you whined; Dew’s grip on your ass tightened, his nails burning into the bruises still littering your skin. By now the pain of the bruises didn’t bother you so much, only heightening the depravity you found yourself in. Your mind wondered over the last few days, how you’d been used and fucked every single day in the filthiest ways. You’d tried things you never had before, surprised yourself with new kinks and confidence and allowed yourself the freedom to sleep with whoever aroused you at the time. You’d never felt so empowered... 

The memories served to drive you mad with arousal, wanting nothing more than to cum again on Dew’s tongue. Once again, you found yourself close to an end, rutting your hips against his chin. The movement of your hips created short, small ripple-effect moments through your body that were enough to give Swiss a little bit of friction, cock still wrapped up in your hand. He hummed in delight, pressing his lips to yours in a messy kiss.  

“How does she taste, Dew?” he called down to his friend, knowing full well he wouldn’t asnwer with words. Dew growled again, lost in his own greed. He needed more of you, all of you. Your taste was sending him on a straight road to insanity. “Good, it seems...” he smiled sadistically.  

Dew was becoming feral behind you as you rutted against his chin. His tongue dove into you, the nose of his mask adding to your pleasure and winding your coil back up once again until you lost it... You cried out against Swiss’ chest, your hand squeezing his length between the two of you earning a hiss and groan of pleasure. You felt your pussy convulsing, a wave of fresh arousal briefly squirting from you to land on Dew’s tongue as he slurped and drank everything you gave him. 

Dew delivered a spank to your ass as he sat up, licking his lips and wiping his chin of your mess.  

“Unholy fuck, did you squirt on him?” Swiss asked, amazed as you lay on him, catching your breath. You just giggled in response, words failing you. “Shit, I wanna make you do that...” 

“Then... you’ll... need to fuck me, first...” you taunted between breaths.  

“You got it, sweetheart,” he kissed you again, reaching between you both to take his cock from you, only to line it up with your entrance and slowly, begin to push inside you.  

Dew watched on from behind you, slowly undressing himself as he watched Swiss’ cock sink further and further into you. He was surprised at himself, so turned on watching another man sink into where he had just been burying his tongue and fingers. He thought he might feel possessive, jealous even, but he wanted nothing more than to see you fall apart on his friend. He was enjoying this...  

When Swiss bottomed out, he couldn’t help but whimper at the feeling. You felt so warm, so wet around him. Thanks to Dew’s work, you had been able to quickly accommodate him, slick enough to take him without any issues. You sat up, pressing your palms to his chest and rolling your hips against him. Immediately, pleasure returned and that spot inside you fluttered when he grazed it. You needed him, you needed more. Always more, more, more...  

Swiss’s hips met yours, rolling against you over and over. He watched where the two of you connected, seeing his cock disappearing over and over, glistening with your juices. In the space between your thighs and his cock, he could vaguely make out Dew behind you, now completely nude and stroking himself in time with his thrusts.  

“Fuck...” Swiss breathed, turned on at the sight. “Hey, hey baby...” he tapped at your cheek, getting you to open your eyes you’d closed in bliss and look down at him, “Think Dew needs a hand...”  

You looked behind you, seeing Dew completely nude save for his mask, and fucking into his fist much like Copia had been at your feet yesterday. And you got an idea...  

“This isn’t fair...” you whined, slapping a hand down against Swiss’ chest in protest. You stopped moving your hips but he continued for the both of you, refusing to stop. 

“W-what?” he asked.  

“Want more... Want you both,” you whimpered, reaching behind you to stroke at Dew’s cock. He shivered at the contact, and the thought of being buried in you like Swiss was. He wanted you too... 

“B-both of us? Like...” Swiss stuttered, now stilling his hips reluctantly.  

“Inside me, together. Fuck, I need it... Please?” you begged, looking between them both. The Ghouls looked past you and at each other, seeming to have a silent conversation while you waited impatiently. The thought of having both of them inside you; it both scared and excited you. Were you sure you could take them both? Would it hurt? Maybe they wouldn’t be comfortable with it? 

“Dew, if you’re not comfortable man, I get it...” Swiss reasoned; in his mind, he was more than happy to oblige. His cock even twitched at the thought, which came as a surprise to him. He’d never been in such close proximity to another man sexually but he wasn’t opposed to the idea in the slightest.  

Dew gave Swiss a look, paired with a slight twist of his head and started to slowly, once again, stroke himself; confirming that the idea was enough to interest him. 

“Shit, okay... okay, yeah. You think you can take us, baby?” Swiss’ attention came back onto you.  

“With the right prep,” you smirked, looking back at Dew. “Will you help, Dew?”  

He nodded in understanding, his hand sliding between your ass cheeks and further down, until his fingertips met where you sat impaled on Swiss’ cock. Swiss watched intently, his body twitching when Dew’s fingertips came into contact with his shaft. Slowly, Dew pushed in one finger as Swiss pushed himself in too, using the movement to aid the stretch of added girth. You saw fucking stars...  

“Sathanas...” you squealed, and the two stilled in panic. “No, no... don’t stop. It’s good... so fucking good,” you reassured, and the two men continued... In and out, over and over while you got slicker, messier for both of them like your body knew what was coming and wanted nothing more than to get you there. 

Before long, Dew attempted to push another digit in, and slowly but surely, he managed to do the same. Your body was accommodating them both nicely, nothing too rushed, still just slow and gentle. The look on Swiss’ face was a picture, screwed up in his attempts to remain focussed, to not burst into a fit of rutting as hard and fast as he possibly could with how good it felt to be sheathed inside you and have Dew’s fingers pressed against him. 

When you were ready, Dew added a third finger, stretching you to a point you most certainly never had before. His wrist ached at the angle, and so he pushed gently on your shoulder until you leaned over, hovering above Swiss and giving him much better access. The new position somehow made it easier on you too, spreading your legs further to accommodate both intrusions.  

“I... I think I’m ready,” you said once Dew and Swiss had made sure to slowly push inside as deep as possible while you shivered and spasmed at the feeling. “Please, Dew...” 

“He’s coming baby, just a little longer, okay? Wanna be sure...” Swiss reassured, peppering kisses to your neck where he lay. You nodded, letting them work you open a little longer, your slick gathering between them both and creating an easier glide as the seconds passed. Eventually, they were satisfied you were prepared. 

Dew looked over your shoulder to Swiss, checking in one final time that he was still okay with this. Swiss just smirked back at him, uttering a “Go ahead, Dew.” 

To make the initial entry easier on you, Swiss pulled himself out when Dew’s fingers left you. Dew used that same hand to coat himself in arousal, and finally, the two of them lined up beside each other, their tips just barely grazing and yet... Both of them gasped at the touch. The sound didn’t escape you; and by the look on Swiss’ face, it was certainly a pleasant experience. 

Slowly, the two of them pressed into you, sliding gently to fill you together. Dew’s hands gripped your hips, nails digging into the flesh while Swiss squeezed at your thighs, both having to restrain themselves. For you, the feeling of being stretched and filled to your limits was so damn good, you moaned so wantonly that it vibrated through your body and reached them both, tormenting them until eventually they bottomed out together.  

“Shit, Dew... You good, man?” Swiss cried, unable to tear his eyes away from where both their cocks pressed tightly against each other inside you. He missed Dew’s frantic nodding, but at the lack of protest he knew he was safe to continue.  

They began to build a leisurely pace, moving together in sync and dragging themselves over your g-spot in unison. All you could do was grip onto Swiss’ biceps for dear life, and try not to fall apart where you knelt. You’d never been pushed to this limit before, never taken so much at once but with their careful preparation they had managed to make it as easy as possible for you.  

“More... Please, want more,” you hummed, desperate for a faster pace, something rougher and more punishing. You wanted another fucking orgasm... Sure enough, greed had overtaken you.  

“Greedy girl,” Swiss growled, beginning to rock a little faster, mismatching his pace with Dew. Dew tried to keep up, but fell a little behind in rhythm. Surprisingly, that felt better than them both being in sync... Now, they were both hitting your g-spot, one after the other, in a similar rhythm to a heartbeat.  

You were crying out to both of them, expletives and wild moans between mutterings of their names filling the air around you to a backdrop of slick and sloppy noises as both men fucked into you, harder and harder... Dew couldn’t help his own moans, surrounded by you and Swiss at the same time, a whole new feeling he’d never experienced but unholy shit it felt incredible. He didn’t know another cock against his own could feel like this, never knew how much he’d love this.  

Swiss was thinking much the same, enjoying the drag of Dew’s hardness against his own. Both Ghouls were losing their minds inside you. Swiss released his grip on your thighs in search of Dew’s instead, pulling him closer, needing more of him in some form... Dew dropped one of his hands then, able to hold onto both him and you as the two kept pounding into you. 

“D-Dew... Oh, shit, why does this feel – ahhh – so good?” Swiss cried, throwing his head back into the couch. Dew roared behind you, curling his body to press against your back and sandwiching you between the sweaty bodies either side of you. You moved a little to the side, to give them room to get closer to each other, something you could sense they definitely needed while they rutted into you with reckless abandon.  

“C-can I kiss you, Dew? Fuck man, I don’t know, need more...” he pleaded through grit teeth. Dew pushed himself harder against you both and met Swiss in a bruising kiss neither man had seen coming when this all began. But it felt right, it felt good.  

Your head lay on Swiss’ chest, watching the two of them making out as their cocks filled and stretched you. It was all so much, a kind of bliss you’d never encountered. You could feel your end coming quickly, tearing through you as they resigned themselves to the mercy of the other. You gave them no warning, unable to fathom a sentence when a third burst of pleasure soared through your body.  

If Swiss wanted you to squirt for him, he’d certainly got his wish. You gushed on the pair of them, violently shaking at the force of your orgasm. The two of them broke their kiss and Swiss lost his mind, feeling your cunt flooding him.  

“Fucking hell, I gotta cum... I can’t hold this anymore. Dew, do you mind? Can I cum inside her?” You heard him babble as your brain clouded, coming down slowly while you convulsed and spasmed. You absolutely didn’t mind if he did, but would Dew? He was still buried in you too, after all...  

But Dew chuckled breathlessly and tightened his grip on Swiss’ hand, leaning in to kiss him again. He kept his pace up; a sure-fire way of making sure Swiss came inside you, and in turn, on him.  

It didn’t take him long once he got confirmation, stilling deep inside you, pressed against your cervix as his cum spilled from his cock and coated not only your walls, but Dew’s shaft too. He jumped and pulsed, desperate howls lost to Dew’s kiss. Dew kept going, slower than before but still rutting against Swiss and sending ripples of a dull buzz through you while it served to prolong Swiss’s end.  

Spent and exhausted, Swiss lay back, letting his limbs drop to the couch for a moment before he curled them around you, holding you to him still inside you. He wouldn’t remove himself yet, not while Dew was still plunging into you. He felt his spend dripping down his own length and gathering at the base of both his and Dew’s cocks and pictured what that would look like, smiling to himself dumbly as he enjoyed the overstimulation.  

Behind you, Dew had sat back up on his knees to get a better look and yes, Swiss had been right. Where Dew still rocked into you, Swiss’ spend was leaking and mixing with your own. It was the filthiest thing Dew had ever seen, and it shoved him violently into an orgasm of his own, stilling deep inside you like Swiss just had with a strangled roar. 

“Fuck, fill her up, Dew...” Swiss encouraged him, talking him through his orgasm as if speaking words that Dew couldn’t. “She needs you, Dew. Fill. Her. Up.” He spat through grit teeth, while Dew’s cock slid against his own and pushed him into oversensitivity. Dew did as he was told, emptying his load into you.  

The three of you lay atop each other, spent and exhausted. Neither Ghoul made a move to pull out of you just yet, regaining some strength and regulating their heart rates before they could even think of moving. So, you lay squashed between the two, blissfully floating in euphoria.  

“Well, uh... Satan be damned, that was... different,” Swiss laughed, still partially breathless.  

“Felt so good, guys... You’ve no idea,” you hummed, affectionately reaching behind you to pat at Dew’s hand on top of Swiss’.  

“For us too, sweetheart. Can’t believe you’re a squirter...” You swatted his chest weakly with a dumb smile, earning a chuckle from Dew. “Just wish I coulda tasted that... Dew seemed to enjoy you,” he sighed. He had hoped to taste you at some point, but things had moved in a different direction before he could and he was happy to just go with the flow, give you what you wanted.  

And then, he got an idea.  

“Hey, sweetheart?” he asked timidly. You raised your head from his chest with a quiet “hmm?”, waiting for whatever he wanted to ask. “Is that the most orgasms you’ve had in one sitting?” he asked, curiously.  

“Well, I’ve had three in one before but yes, never more than three. Gets kinda sensitive...” you laughed, settling back on his chest, content to lay there in peace with Dew. 

“Well... the first two were mostly just Dew. I never got to give you one of my own,” he pouted. “You think you could take one more?”  

Your head popped back up, looking into Swiss’ eyes and thinking over his proposition. You certainly did feel sensitive, but the idea intrigued you. Could you take another? You weren’t sure, but you’d be willing to let him try...  

“Um... maybe?” you questioned. Swiss smirked. 

“Hey Dew, would it be... just terrible... if I made sure our darling Sister of Sin was sufficiently cleaned up? I think we’ve made a mess...” he chewed on his lip, waiting for an indication from the silent Ghoul behind you.  

Dew sat up then, removing himself from you and taking a look at the mess the three of you had indeed made. He checked back in with Swiss, nodding. 

“Ah, so we did make a mess. Well, sweetheart, I'd like to offer my cleaning services,” he smirked cheekily.  

“I think that’s only fair...” you quipped.  

Swiss sat up, still holding you to him but transferring your weight back onto the couch cushion as he carefully removed himself from you too. You did your best to contract your walls, holding whatever you could inside you for the moment. Now, you sat upright, legs hanging over the edge of the couch and slouched lazily against Dew’s bare chest beside you. Swiss stood up, removing the pants that still clung to his legs by his knees, and then took up a position between your thighs, hooking your legs over his shoulders.  

He looked down at your core, and could see the mess they’d made; covered in slick, cum and puffed up from the relentless pounding. You looked delectable.  

Swiss dove in, gently at first, with his tongue lapping around your core instead of directly centre. You still writhed at the pleasure of it, enjoying the feeling as he tasted the mixture of the three of you on his tongue. Beside you, you felt Dew’s chest tense, his eyes intently trained on Swiss’ disappearing tongue. This was turning him on again, and he was yet to soften from the sex itself... With a little fuel left in the tank, he began to stoke his length, hissing at the sensitivity. 

As Swiss’ tongue dragged over your clit for the first time, you naturally clenched, a small amount of the cum you held inside you slipping out. Swiss dove in to catch it on his tongue, careful to make sure Dew saw it sat there before he swallowed it down. He’d never done anything like this before and part of him worried Dew would find it disgusting, to eat both his and Dew’s cum from you but now Dew’s hand moved quicker, he knew it was having the opposite effect.  

He hummed in satisfaction at the taste, continuing to assault your clit with his tongue and every so often having to clean up another small amount you’d involuntarily released when things got too sensitive. Dew kept stroking himself, his hips jumping if he spent too long on his sensitive tip. You wanted badly to help him, but there was no strength to lift your arms by your sides.  

Vaguely, the pleasure began to stack up again... you were no longer unsure if you could reach a fourth orgasm; you knew you could. Swiss would just need to be gentle – and somehow, he understood that.  

“Dew, I can’t lie, man... we taste good together,” he teased, watching as Dew bit his lip. “You wanna try?” he snickered. Dew nodded emphatically.  

Swiss brought his fingers up to your centre, pushing them easily inside given you’d not long had two decent sized cocks inside you, and gathered the rest of what you were keeping on them. Then he raised them to Dew’s lips, who bent to meet him halfway, and sucked the mess off them.  

Swiss held his fingers up for him as he dove back into your core, now focussing his attention solely on your clit. You whined tiredly at the sensitivity, but shit, you were close again after watching the display beside you. Dew’s hand sped significantly, making sure he sucked every last drop of cum from Swiss’ fingers. He groaned as a second orgasm came closer; he had wanted to wait for your last orgasm to cum with you, but that was looking unlikely now. He just needed a release again. 

He fell back against the couch as his cock spurted another load, clearer this time and far less than he’d emptied into you, but it felt good enough that he rolled his eyes back and had to drop his hand from the overstimulation while his hips bucked out of control.  

Swiss giggled into your core, suckling at your clit a little harder and enjoying the noises you were making. You barely recognised yourself, squealing so highly in overstimulation as your body went stiff, letting his tongue work you over and over until finally, you crashed for one last time.  

Dew caught you as your body slid to the side and into his chest, holding you and shushing you as you hiccupped in a much quieter orgasm than before, too spent and broken for anything too powerful. Your thighs pushed Swiss’ head away as they came together, shielding you from any more overstimulation. He sat back on his heels, pleased with his work as he licked the remnants of you, himself and Dew from his chin. Quietly, you came down again in Dew’s arms, your body jolting with short little bursts of electricity until you finally stilled.  

Four orgasms had taken its toll on you, and whilst the last of them hadn’t been as earth shattering as the first three, it still left you exhausted and weak. Swiss and Dew could see it in you, and allowed you to curl up into them for a while so you could relax, rest up, and get the aftercare you needed from them both. 

The Ghouls spent the rest of the day with you, having cleaned you up – properly, this time. With an actual shower... – and taken good care of you. Swiss had made you some food, something healthier for the three of you than the junk he’d thrown together last time, and the pair of them just stayed put all day, mostly in a relaxing silence as you watched whatever was on the TV.  

You appreciated that – your head was too busy for conversation, exhausted but still hurting. But there were no expectations to play hostess to the guests in your apartment, nor to divulge the mess of emotions in your mind. If you wanted to talk to them about it all, you would. They felt that.  

But you remained in your own head. You thought over the events of yesterday, of the whole week. You re-read Papa’s note in your mind over and over. You stewed over the thought of him caring for you much less than you’d thought, if his display in his office yesterday was anything to go by...  

It all hurt.  

It wasn’t until Dew wiped a tear from your cheek that you even knew you’d been crying. He gave you a look; one that asked what was wrong without having said the words. You weren’t sure why Dew was a mute Ghoul, but you were glad that it never seemed to be a problem for him. People understood what he was thinking quite easily; most of the time it was ‘what the fuck are you looking at?’ but they understood him all the same... He wasn’t a people person, but you were kind to him; a friend. And so, he cared when he saw you silently crying beside him.  

“N-nothing, Dew. I’m good,” you lied. Your voice caught Swiss’ attention then, who also saw the tears.  

“You can tell us, ______. I’m not gonna tell anyone and, well... neither’s Abu over here,” he joked, slapping Dew’s shoulder as he compared him to the silent, grunting monkey from Aladdin. Dew slapped him back on the back of the head. That earned him a smile from you; goal achieved.  

“I just... Have you ever thought of someone in a certain way, and then... they’ve proved you wrong?” you asked them. 

“Well, I thought Dew was straight. Think he proved me wrong today,” he laughed. You did too, appreciating that he was trying to make you smile when you needed it. “But that’s not what you mean, is it?” 

You shook your head no, smile slipping away. 

“You’re talking about Papa.” 

You nodded.  

“I suppose he just... maybe I got too wrapped up in all this,” you sighed, wiping another fresh tear away. Dew’s arm tightened around your shoulders. “Probably should have known that ‘the great Papa Emeritus the Third’ wouldn’t see me as anything more than a notch on his bedpost. Feel stupid now, thinking I’d actually started feeling something for him...” you laughed, no humour behind it at all.  

“Don’t shoo your feelings away just because he’s devoid of them. You’re allowed to feel whatever you feel, they’re no less real just because he doesn’t reciprocate. Feelings can be dealt with, Sister,” he assured. Strangely, his words felt quite affirming.  

“I just thought he cared...” your voice cracked with more tears, a lump in your throat forming you forced to swallow.  

“You’re part of his congregation, so I think he does care. But... maybe not exactly how you’d hoped, no...” Swiss took your hand and squeezed it. “Listen, you have one more day. One more sin to complete, and then you can figure out with the Dark One what your next steps are. Ask him about Papa, if you need to. I don’t know if it’s a ‘you only get three questions’ kind of situation, but I’m sure he can help. At the very least, I'm sure he can give you a purpose that will take your mind off Papa entirely.”  

You hummed in agreement. Just one more day. How you’d achieve what you needed in that one day, you weren’t sure, but you had the willpower and the tenacity to find something.  

“Big day for you tomorrow. Final sin, the All Hallow’s Ball, a date with Lucifer...” he smirked, winking down at you.  

“Oh, shit... the ball. I forgot about that,” you sighed.  

“Something wrong?” he asked.  

“Just... gotta see Papa,” and Christine, too... awkward. “I think I’d rather not.” Swiss nodded in understanding.  

“Non-negotiable though, isn’t it?” he asked, and you nodded back, “Don’t worry, Dew and I will be there. You can dance with us.” 

“Sure, I’d like that,” you smiled between them both.  

Whilst Swiss’ little pep-talk hadn’t exactly exterminated the sadness that welled up in you now that you’d admitted your feelings towards Papa weren’t strictly platonic, he had at least eased some of the anxiety in your mind about what to do with them.  

Feelings could be dealt with; that was his most important advice, yet. No matter how long it might take, they could be dealt with. You could get through that, and Papa essentially cutting you off here was probably for the best. At least you didn’t have to worry about more nights with him, and those feelings growing exponentially harder to ignore. What you needed to focus on right now, was completing this ritual.  

One more day. One more sin.  

And a date with Lucifer. 

Prev: Day 5 - Envy | Next: Day 7: Pride

A/N: And so, one more sin, and potentially only one more chapter... I'm working on writing it today - there's SO MUCH to put into it, so please bear with me. I may have to upload it in two halves if I can't finish it in time for tomorrow (I've been so busy with work, and Ghostcon over the weekend too!)

A huge thank you to @her-satanic-wiles for beta reading, and @adinferix for fine tuning the Italian translations! 🖤

Tag list:

@call-me-little-sunshine84 @thew0man @zombiesnips-blog @ghuleh-recs @popiaswife @anamelessfool @enchantedbunny @haelithra @aslutforgreyhair @togetherasone @lilylovesdew @copias-sewer-rat @copiaspet622 @deetz-ghuleh @loudwombatmugkid @nimbusghoul @portaltothevoid @angellayercake @sodoswitchimage @siouxbauhaus @lydz1977-blog @bitchywitchygardener @sacrificialsake @the-did-i-ask @ghostfangirlsweden @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @copiasprincipessa @gothicwonderlust @ladymer @ghulehunknown @onlyhereforghost @solluna00 @nijiru

[ferrstappen]

world champion/twins dad l Max Verstappen x reader

love note: HELLO LOVIESSSS! How are you all? it's been such a long time and for that I am so deeply sorry. To be honest it's not that I don't want to write because I've been dying to but for some reason inspiration just doesn't seem to come, but this request made me weak and awakened my mind a bit so I hope you enjoy it <3

i do feel up for little blurbs or scenarios if you want to come to my ask box and we can daydream endlessly <3

summary: the tragic chains of events before Luca Verstappen started feeling terrible. (dad!Max)

Mila & Luca Verstappen, age 6. Zandvoort.

Max warned Luca about the incoming rain the moment he noticed him shrugging off the official Red Bull rain jacket, favoring the tailored track jacket from the Dutch GP collection with his last name and dad’s number on the back, but of course his carbon copy complained, retaliating with things he learned in school, usually when it rains there’s clouds and it’s cold, and right now Luca Verstappen was seeing with his own two blue eyes the sun shining outside.

He repeated the same explanation when you told him he needed to wear his jacket.

“Your dad lived here, he knows the weather. Listen to him and out on the jacket,” you dictated before fixing Mila’s hair under her special Dutch GP cap.

Max shrugged before facing Luca, “You listened to mama, jacket it is! And I can’t be late so hurry up,” Luca huffed while grabbing and putting on the Red Bull jacket.

It seemed as if everyone was waiting for Max’s arrival to the track because the flashes were blinding, the tens listening to their papa when he told them to cover their faces. Knowing you wouldn’t be seeing much of Max today and taking advantage on the twins covered eyes you decided to leave a kiss on his lips, whispering congratulations on his full lips.

You grabbed the twins hands as Max made sure the cap covered most of Mila’s face and only showed part of her curls, but of course Luca still wasn’t convinced with the jacket.

“Papa, it itches,” Luca complained and you could still listen to the flashes and screams of your family surname.

“It’s a rain jacket, Luca. It’s not it itchy, and I am not requesting you to put it on, I am telling you to do it or I am going to do it,” Max never needed to change his voice or posture when reprimanding the kids, but usually his choice of words were enough to command the twins to comply.

That’s how you ended up in the Red Bull hospitality, with Luca running his hands through his hair after taking off the infamous jacket and letting the smell of caramel fill his nostrils.

Soon enough, stroopwafels were being served to the attendees, and especially everyone offering one to the Verstappen twins walking hand in hand, always supervised by you, or their grandmother, or their great grandmother.

"Mila, you can't say no to a stroopwafel," Luca told his sister showing off his dutch, especially since their Oma and super Oma were limiting English while in Holland.

"I am full so I am not accepting more food, Luca," Mila informed his brother as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"If you don't want them, give them to me,"

That was the first thing that went wrong.

The second one was when everybody was focused on the final laps before the red flag, your eyes glued to the screen and ears fully focused on Max’s radio. The perfect moment for Luca to take off the obnoxious jacket.

Thats when everything went wrong.

Max and you were woken up at the same time; head pounding from the celebrations and clothes thrown somewhere on the floor, but it didn't stop you from hearing your son crying while throwing up, waking his sister up in the process.

"Sweetheart, get dressed oh my God," Max said throwing you one of his shirts as he put on his discarded boxers before making your way to the twins bathroom.

You stayed with Mila, calming her down and assuring her nothing was wrong and his brother probably ate something and his body was reacting, while closely listening to Max comforting Luca trying to assure him he was going to feel better eventually.

You thought that was it, but of course it wasn't, because now neither you nor Max were sure of the headache was because of the adrenaline, the drinks or the lack of sleep from Luca's constant vomiting.

Gross.

But that was how you learned that it wasn't just the stroopwafels. The small version of Max Verstappen had a severe case of sweet tooth and didn't deny himself the flavors from his country with fresh poffertjes, a couple of pannenkoeken with sweet toppings, were on the top of Mila's head as you tried to understand how a six year old managed to fit so much food on his stomach.

Then came the fever and the dull pain in his ears.

The first thing you managed was to go back to Monte Carlo, at least that way he’d be sick on his own room and own place, where the older and more tired Jim and Sass would fall asleep on the feet of his bed.

For some miracle, the twins had managed to fall asleep during the short flight, allowing you to snuggle into Max’s side, who pulled a thick blanket on top to cover both your bodies, resting his head on top of yours while he enjoyed the relaxed motion of your fingertips drawing shapes on his shoulder.

“Max?” You softly pronounced his name, he softly groaned in acknowledgement. “When did we decide to have children?” You asked and Max laughed with his eyes closed.

He opened his blue eyes and left a kiss on you lips before he started falling asleep again, mumbling that maybe you two weren’t the best with decision making.

“Do you think we should leave M with the sitter and bring Luca to the ER?” Max questioned, this time it wasn’t your playful husband, it was the worried dad, the one who decided to leave his home celebrations, enjoying being the home hero with his entire family, the well deserved late nights partying after equaling Sebastian’s record.

“I’ll call the doctor but don’t worry, you have a couple of days to rest before Monza, and we weren’t even supposed to come back home so just enjoy the quiet days,” you kissed his temple. “Are you sure you don’t want to go back to Holland? You know I’ll manage with the kids,”

“Don’t even say that again, i’m sorry I didn’t keep an eye on him, he didn’t listen to me and didn’t use the fucking jacket and then ate his entire weight on sugar,” Max sounded truly disappointed in himself.

“Are you going to make me tell you that you were working and barely had a moment to take a breath? Don’t be stupid, honey,” you said and Max smiled.

“I love it when you tell me off but call me honey,” He dedicated you his best sleepy smile.

A car was waiting for you in Nice to take you home, Max getting ahead of you and calling the twins doctor, and of course as soon as he saw the pale looks of the usually flushed Luca, his droopy eyes and constant shivering, he gave him some medication and gave the very stern order: no flying for Luca Verstappen until his ear infection was gone, meaning the plans for your family to go to Monza were postponed until further notice.

Little did you know that Mila was already plotting the tears to attend Monza, regardless of his brother’s illness.

[yourdarkcherry]

Seducing Rafe Cameron || Ch. 3

Summary: You were blessed with an easy life since you were born, but it’s all threatened when your dad’s business fails and you find yourself with no prospects and no education and so your only solution is to marry rich. Who’s a better candidate than the older brother of your ex-best friend from high school? So you do everything in your power to seduce Rafe Cameron, not knowing he’s the root to all your problems.

Warnings: toxic relationship, spoiled reader, sexist elements, dark content, blackcoded reader, pregnancy, physical and emotional abuse, manipulation, gaslighting, death threats, eventual smut.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

You swear that this could’ve been the worst day of your entire life. From the start to the current moment it was all a series of unfortunate events. For some reason, you couldn’t wake up at the sound of your alarm, and you only awakened at the sound of your mother shaking you awake and asking you why you’re not attending your pilates class.

With wide eyes, you stare at your clock and find it’s displaying a 10:43 AM to you. Jumping from your bed, you rush to your bathroom with a continuous string of swear words at not attending your pilates class, or even finishing any of the errands you had to run.

The clock on your car shows 11:52 AM when you finally leave your house. You don’t even wait for the car to properly heat up and instantly begin your trip to the location Rafe sent you this morning, right after his good morning text that went ignored due to you oversleeping.

Then in your frenzy to reach the restaurant on time, you rear end someone. It was the last thing you wanted, and even when you exit the car you prepare yourself for the fight the other person would initiate. It was completely your fault, you were texting Rafe letting him know you will be late.

You inspect your car first, seeing the bumper threatening to fall any minute now, then you turn your head to the side and find the van you rear-ended was pretty damaged.

“Lady! Can’t you see where you were going?!” an irritated man comments, and it gets nearer to the back of the car to inspect the accident.

You try to put on your best sorry look, and then look at the person only to take a second look. You didn’t have to look at him three times to know who he was. With his long locks, and tan skin, then to the light blue van.

This is the man Sarah was dating, and currently dating according to what Wheezie told you last night. He recognizes you too, for some reason as he also does a look back and his eyes widen for a little.

“I’m sorry, I admit my fault I was pretty preoccupied.” you say, then move back to your car to take your phone, but when you return you’re shocked to find Sarah Cameron in the flesh, standing next to him.

You stop briefly in your tracks, taken back at seeing her for the first time in years. She looks exactly as you last seen her, you blame your complex emotions at seeing her on the fact that she looks like she’s always did, and not a single thing changed about her.

“(Y/N).” she calls your name first, you clear your throat and walk towards her and her boyfriend.

“Hello, Sarah.” you greet, and then take your gaze off her brown eyes and stare at the man, “my insurance can cover you, I’ll call them right now and let them know.” he nods, and you take a glance at Sarah one last time as you feel her stare on your face.

You turn around and dial in the insurance company number, although your phone glitches before you can call and then it vibrates as Rafe's name flashes in your phone. You don’t need to be a genius to know you weren’t late but you were very much unclassy late.

The kind of lateness that cannot be blamed on women’s vanity.

You answer immediately, and after your first “Hello?” he asks. “Is everything okay?”

“Uhm…” you cover your forehead as you look back on the accident. “Not really, rear-ended someone.” You answer honestly.

Rafe’s voice tightens with concern. “Where exactly are you right now? I need to know.”

You hesitate, glancing around at the scene. “I’m... just near the diner on Maple Street. But really, Rafe, you don’t have to come.”

“I’m coming over,” he insists. “I want to make sure you’re okay. Don’t move from where you are.”

You wince, knowing that Rafe’s presence would complicate things even more. Sarah Cameron, his disowned sister, is right here with her boyfriend. The last thing you want is for Rafe and Sarah to run into each other. “Look, I appreciate your concern, but—”

“No arguments. I’m on my way,” Rafe says firmly. “Just stay put and don’t try to handle this all on your own.”

Panic starts to set in. You know it’s a terrible idea to let Rafe come, but you also understand how stubborn he can be. “Okay, fine. But it’s really not a big deal, and I’m dealing with the insurance already. Maybe just... wait a bit before coming?”

“Just give me a few minutes, alright?” Rafe’s tone is insistent. “I’ll be there soon.”

As you hang up, you feel the weight of the situation press down on you. You glance over at Sarah and her boyfriend, trying to avoid making eye contact. This whole thing is turning into a mess you never anticipated

You take a deep breath, trying to focus on the silver lining of the situation. If Rafe shows up and helps you sort this out, he might feel useful, which you know is something he appreciates. Men often enjoy feeling like they’re making a difference, and this could be a way to turn a frustrating situation into a moment where he feels valued.

The call with the insurance company is short, you let them know of what happened abd they let you know of what to do.

When you walk closer to the van, you see Sarah lingering awkwardly close to you as she watches you take pictures of the accident. You pretend you don’t notice her while you text the pictures to the insurance company.

“So…how have you been?” she asks first.

You clear your throat, turning around to face her. “I’ve been good.” The awkward silence makes the heat of this summer feel even worse as your cheeks burn. “You?”

“I’ve been doing good too. I remember Wheezie told me that you uhm… you started this two year college in Charlotte town.” She says, shifting her weight from one leg to another.

“Yeah…the program was called hospitality excellence and etiquette.” you answer.

Her eyes widen slightly, then she tightens her lips into a tight line before she comments, “thought it was an english literature and writing program, you always did like that a whole a lot,” she then clears her throat. “You talked about it a lot back in high school.”

You nod, feeling a pang of discomfort. “Yeah, I changed direction. It seemed like a better fit.”

Sarah clears her throat, her gaze flickering between you and her boyfriend. “Well, it’s good you found something that works for you.”

Just then, your phone buzzes with a text from the insurance company: “We’ve reviewed the details and confirmed you are at fault. Please provide the contact information for the other party so we can proceed with covering the damage.”

Before you can respond, Rafe’s car pulls up, and you feel a rush of mixed emotions. You glance at Sarah, who seems equally tense, and then back at Rafe as he steps out of the car.

You manage a strained smile as you finish texting the insurance company. The weight of the awkward situation settles heavily on your shoulders. As Rafe approaches, you feel a knot tighten in your stomach.

Rafe’s eyes meet yours, and you see his expression shift from concern to confusion as he takes in the scene. Without needing any introductions, he asks, “Is everything okay?”

You try to sound calm. “Yeah. Just trying to get the insurance stuff sorted out.”

Rafe’s gaze flickers to Sarah, his tension palpable. He doesn’t need any introductions to understand the situation. Sarah’s discomfort is visible as she shifts her weight, unable to meet Rafe’s eyes. Then, Rafe steps close to inspect the accident.

When Sarah’s boyfriend comes closer, he asks, “you talk to insurance yet?”

Before you could answer him, Rafe shields your vision of the man. “Give me your phone. I need to talk to insurance,”

“Oh, yeah sure.” you hand him your phone. “But why?”

He steps so close to you, allowing you to take whiffs of his spicy cologne and the sight of his pretty blue eyes hitting the sun so perfectly. Then his voice drops lower, “I just don’t trust that pogue, maybe he saw your car and decided to break check.”

You blink at him in cluelessness, “why would he do that?”

“To take your money, of course.” Rafe answers. “But don’t worry, I’ll let insurance know how to handle it.”

He takes your phone from your palm, your fingers brushing ever so slightly but still sending shocks throughout the rest of your body nonetheless.

He starts speaking to the insurance company, his voice low and authoritative. You watch him handle the situation with a blend of relief and unease, his presence both a comfort and a complication.

Meanwhile, Sarah stands awkwardly, her gaze flicking between Rafe and the damaged van. Her boyfriend, clearly frustrated, starts to mutter under his breath, but he doesn’t press the issue further with Rafe present.

You can’t ignore the tension in the air. The silence stretches as Rafe talks on the phone, his tone firm and decisive. You can’t help but notice how effortlessly he takes control of the situation, and despite everything, you find yourself grateful for his intervention.

When Rafe finally hangs up, he hands your phone back to you, his expression serious. “I’ve given them the details and made sure they know about the potential for fraud. They’ll be in touch with you soon.”

“Fraud?!” Sarah and her boyfriend repeat in disbelief, and exchange a shocked look before Sarah steps closer to Rafe. Her hands on her hips as she glares at him, “why the fuck would there be a possibility for fraud?”

Rafe meets her gaze evenly, not backing down. “Because it’s not uncommon for people to stage accidents to make a quick buck. It’s better to be cautious and make sure everything is above board.”

Sarah’s eyes narrow, her face flushed with anger. “You don’t know that. You’re just making assumptions.”

Rafe’s tone remains calm, though there’s a hint of annoyance. “I’m just protecting (Y/N). It’s my job to ensure everything is handled properly.”

Sarah’s boyfriend, still simmering, steps forward. “Look, we don’t need any more complications. This is already a mess.”

Sarah only looks between you and Rafe with that look she used to get when she’s connecting dots in her head. You feel like you should avoid her gaze, and cower in shame should she find out. Except, you don’t.

You have nothing to feel shameful about. She did sleep with your boyfriend in high school and betrayed your trust and broke your friendship just like that. So you think she can handle the little discomfort she will get at finding out that you and her brother are dating.

Sarah looks detached, her gaze distant as she processes Rafe’s comments. She pulls her boyfriend away slightly, her voice tight with control. “Fine, we’ll discuss it. Just… (Y/N),” she calls and you look at her as she continues, “give me your number so I can contact you about it.”

Rafe shakes his head, his expression firm, “she’s not giving her number to you. I’ll give mine to your boyfriend instead. He can handle the details and get in touch with me if needed.”

Sarah’s frustration is palpable, but she holds back her retort. She gives a curt nod, accepting the compromise.

Her boyfriend takes out his phone, and Rafe quickly gives him his number. As they exchange contact information, Sarah’s eyes flicker with a mix of emotions—anger, resignation, and something else you can’t quite place.

When Sarah and her boyfriend walk to their van. Rafe looks at your car, “you cannot drive this till it gets fixed.”

“Yeah, it’s another accident asking to happen.” you answer sadly.

“It’s okay though, I’ll take it to the shop and get it fixed for you.” He said, a hand on your shoulder, his touch warm and grounding.

“Thank you, Rafe.” you tell him. A switch in your head flips, then you add, “you’re so helpful, I wouldn’t have known what to do without you.”

His eyes slightly widen, taken off-guard at your words and attitude but he doesn’t seem like he hates it. Trying to pretend that you don’t notice the effects your words had on him, you stare at the clock on your phone.

“Your lunch break ends at 1 right?” you ask, and he hums as he directs you to his car that’s parked haphazardly. You climb up to the passenger seat of his car, then buckle in your seatbelt. When he enters his car, you say, “I feel bad for wasting your lunch break.”

“You didn’t, I’m just glad to see you.” he says, and you resist the smile that’s forming on your face but you fail.

He doesn’t see you as he starts his car once again. “I have a little more than twenty five minutes left of my lunch break, so I’ll just drive you home.”

The ride back is quiet, a comfortable silence settling between the two of you. You can feel the tension from earlier slowly dissipating, replaced by a sense of calm. Rafe’s presence, while sometimes intense, has a way of grounding you. You sneak a glance at him, noticing the way his hands grip the steering wheel, his knuckles white.

Seeing Sarah must’ve affected him just as deeply as you—if not more.

You decide that not speaking about it is the best option. If he didn’t bring it up first, then you won’t utter a single word.

The memory of seeing his disowned sister and seeing your ex-best friend would be buried for now.

Thankfully, your house wasn’t that far from the accident place. As you approach your place, Rafe speaks up, breaking the silence. “You sure you’re okay? That was a lot back there.”

You nod, your eyes meeting his briefly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… a bit shaken up, I guess.”

Rafe pulls up into the driveway of your house and shifts the car into park. “Well, if you need anything, you know you can call me, right?”

His offer is genuine, but there’s something in the way he says it that makes your heart skip a beat. You nod again, feeling the weight of the day starting to lift. “Thanks, Rafe. I really appreciate it.”

He turns to face you fully, his expression softening, “you don’t have to thank me. I’m happy to help.”

For a moment, you both just sit there, the air between you charged with something unspoken. Then, before the moment can stretch too long, you reach for the door handle, “I should probably get inside.”

Rafe nods, he says as he’s watching you hold your purse, “I’ll check in with you later, okay? Make sure everything’s sorted out.”

You step out of the car, feeling a strange mix of emotions. Relief, gratitude, maybe even a bit of something more. Before you could close the door, you linger slightly as he watches you.

He was so helpful and reliable today, and you don’t really want to let him go just yet. You want to talk with him more, be around him. You try to pretend that it’s all for the plan, and not because of a deep want within you.

“Uhm…why…why don’t you come inside?” you ask.

His eyebrows almost raise up to his hairline comically. You look at the black leather of his seats, shyness taking over you. “I could make you a sandwich, I feel bad just for sending you to work like that.”

He opens his mouth to speak, and you fear that it’s a rejection, so you hastily interrupt him as you look at your fingers. “Something quick, I’ll take like one minute making it for you, and your break finishes in exactly twenty minutes.”

“Sure…I’d like that.” he says genuinely, and you finally look up to him to see him smiling.

He kills the engine, and then gets out of his car. You walk side by side to the door, your heart beats faster with each step.

When you reach the door, your fingers fumble slightly with the keys, but you manage to unlock it, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

“Make yourself at home,” you say, trying to sound casual, though your voice betrays a hint of nervousness.

You walk further inside to the kitchen, feeling his presence following you. As you enter the kitchen, you set your purse on the counter. Then you start gathering the things you need for a simple sandwich from the fridge, and you bring it all to the island.

He sits on one of the chairs facing the island. He looks around a little, taking in the clean kitchen then he asks, “is your mom home?”

You glance at him as you’re taking bread slices out. “Probably not, she might’ve gone out for the afternoon,” you reply, your voice a little quieter than usual as you focus on getting the sandwich together. You can feel Rafe's eyes on you, and it makes your movements slightly more deliberate, more aware of every little thing you’re doing.

He hums in response, leaning back in his chair, still watching you. “How was your pilates class?”

“Oh…I didn’t go, woke up late actually.” you answer honestly. Focusing on spreading the mayo on the other slice of bread.

Rafe’s gaze sharpens slightly as he listens to your response, though he maintains a relaxed posture in the chair. “Woke up late, huh?” His tone is casual, and you don’t think much of it as you focus on the sandwich. His eyes are still fixed on you, watching your every movement with a kind of intensity that you chalk up to concern.

“Yeah, just one of those mornings,” you say lightly, now spreading mustard on the bread. You glance up at him, catching his steady gaze, but it doesn’t faze you—if anything, it makes you feel like he’s paying attention, like he cares.

He hums again, the sound thoughtful. “You know,” he says slowly, “I could help with that. Making sure you don’t miss anything important.”

You look up at him, tilting your head in curiosity. “What do you mean?”

He leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on the island, his eyes still locked on yours. “Just thinking… I could check in on you in the mornings. Make sure you’re up and ready. We wouldn’t want you missing out on anything.”

You smile at the offer, feeling a warmth in your chest. “That’s really sweet of you, Rafe, but I think I just need a better alarm clock.”

Rafe’s lips curl into a small smile, and you take it as a sign that he’s just being his usual considerate self. “Yeah, maybe,” he says, and you hear a touch of amusement in his voice. “But, you know, I’m just a call away. For anything.”

“Thanks, Rafe,” you say, genuinely appreciating his concern. It feels good to have someone who’s so attentive, who seems to genuinely care about the little things in your life.

He watches you for a moment longer, and you assume he’s just making sure you’re okay after the stressful day you’ve had. When he finally leans back in his chair, he says, “No problem. Just looking out for you.”

You finish making the sandwich and place it on a plate, sliding it across the island to him.

“There you go,” you say, stepping back and leaning against the counter, trying to act nonchalant.

“Thanks,” he says, picking up the sandwich and taking a bite. While he’s eating you quickly take a clean cup from one of the upper cupboards, open the fridge and pour in orange juice in it. Then you slide it to him again.

You can feel him watching you as you move around the kitchen. You open the drawer and take a new ziploc bag, then head to the pantry and place in four cookies you made. You gasp as you recalled you didn’t even give him water. He watches you with curiosity as you walk once again to the drinks fridge and take a cold water bottle.

He’s halfway finished with his sandwich by the time you slide along the cookies and the water bottle to him.

“Uhm, I made those cookies…a new recipe so I’m proud of them.” You tell him while grinning as you sit next to him.

Rafe looks down at the cookies, then back at you, a smirk playing on his lips. “You didn’t have to do all this, you know,” he says, though there’s a hint of something warm in his voice, like he’s pleased by the attention.

You shrug, your grin widening. “I wanted to. You’ve been so helpful today, it’s the least I can do.”

He takes the bag of cookies, inspecting them for a moment before glancing back at you. “I’ll have to give these a try later. If they’re as good as this sandwich, I’m sure they’ll be great.” His tone is easygoing, but there’s a spark in his eyes, like he’s enjoying this little routine you’ve set up for him.

You beam at the compliment, feeling a flutter in your chest. “I hope you like them.”

“I think it’s safe to assume there will be a make-up date.” He says casually. You gulp nervously as you look away shyly. “Of course.”

“Tomorrow.” he says.

“I can’t, I have my girls' day plans with Wheezie, remember?” you say.

“Your car will be at the shop, who’s going to be taking you?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Probably call an Uber—”

“No Uber.” His tone is final and assertive, but it catches you off-guard as you watch him quietly. So he adds, “if you need someone to drive you anywhere, just call me.”

You fight the urge to refuse. It would be too much of a hassle, but your mother told you many times that men love feeling helpful. So you smile and nod, “sure.” you answer softly.

“Great. I’ll drive you and Wheezie tomorrow then.” He affirms while standing up, then washes his hands in the sink. He grabs the water bottle and the cookie bag and then heads to the front door. You follow him to his car.

Even though he barely has ten minutes to drive to work, he still cranks his window down as you approach it. His smile is soft. “Thanks for the food. I’ll update you later about your car.”

You nod at his words, smiling back too. “Drive safe.”

Rafe’s smile deepens as he hears your soft reply. “I will,” he says, his tone reassuring. He watches you for a moment longer, his gaze lingering on your face like he’s memorizing every detail.

You step back as he starts the car, waving at him as he pulls out of the driveway. There’s a strange warmth in your chest as you watch his car disappear down the street, a mix of emotions you’re not entirely sure how to process. He was so insistent, so protective—it’s nice to have someone who cares that much, you tell yourself.

Out of all your candidates, you know he’s the best. He’s always been responsible.

You don’t want to believe your mother’s theories, but she’s always been right. She did tell you that Kelce is a youngest child, so he’s pretty spoiled and probably hasn’t worked a day in his life and simply would deflect all his responsibilities. Topper is an only child, he’s selfish and stubborn and most likely wouldn’t even understand why you need help in the first place.

Meanwhile Rafe, he’s the oldest brother between his siblings. He’s always knew how to be responsible—even if Ward at first claimed otherwise. You knew that Rafe is a proactive person, he wouldn’t stand still if he knew you had a problem. He would help you if he could, and if he couldn’t, he would try everything to still help.

He's the best candidate, and you would be damned if you just let go of him.

[fantasyescapes17]

Manners (Part 2, Final)

Viscount Joshua Hong is by far the most eligible bachelor in London. Rich, handsome, and renowned for his excellent manners and refined tastes. Young woman would kill for the chance to be the Viscount's chosen bride. But nobody can quite determine which of the young ladies he prefers, and you are beginning to have your doubts. Is the Viscount really as gentlemanly as the ton seems to think?

Genre: Joshua Hong x Female!reader. Regency!AU (It's sort of Bridgerton-esque in the sense that I give zero attention to historical accuracy and prioritize aesthetics lmao) You are a sibling to all the Lees (Woozi, DK, Dino) so your last name is Lee but the reader has no other specific characteristics, physical or otherwise.

Word Count: 5.2k+

Part 1

Series Masterlist [I would highly recommend reading the earlier stories in this series, Patience, and Candle, before this one but it's not strictly necessary.]

You had never been formally courted before, and therefore had no inkling of what to expect from your new courtship with Viscount Hong. Indeed, you had scarcely even processed the events of the night before. The entire evening- right from Viscount Hongs' unannounced arrival up until his proposal of marriage- felt rather like an intense fever dream.

You were awoken from a fitful sleep early that morning by your maid. 

“Miss- oh miss, you must  awaken, there has been a delivery for you!” she cried frantically. 

You sat up in bed and rubbed your tired eyes. Lily and Nessie ran into your room in their nightgowns, giggling as they climbed up onto the bedcovers. They were followed by two maids struggling to carry an enormous basket of arranged pink and red roses between them. They placed the assortment precariously on your bedside table. 

“What is this?” you asked, confused. 

“A delivery for you miss- there is a card as well.” 

The maid handed you the card and your sisters climbed up behind you eagerly to peek at it. 

“Read it aloud!” Lily ordered, and you had no choice but to take the card into your hands and read out the message written in Viscount Hong’s neat and careful handwriting. 

Miss Lee,

I thought perhaps some flowers would brighten your morning- I hope the events of last night have not caused you too much distress. I did fear that writing to you would be too forward but then again, I believe we can agree that the mistake I have made so far is failing to be forward enough. 

May I persuade you to join me for a ride in the park this evening? If you are concerned about the lack of a chaperone, you may bring Chan- I will ensure an extra horse is available for him. 

Yours, 

Joshua

Lily and Nessie squealed in delight and even the maids were biting back their smiles. Sending flowers and a personalised invitation was a bold and romantic gesture indeed; you could not help the fluttering that arose in your heart. 

It appeared that Viscount Hong meant business. 

—-----------------------------------------

“I did suspect that Joshua might harbour some affection for you,” Jihoon admitted over breakfast. Your father was eating in his study, leaving you and your siblings to speak freely about the previous night's events in the dining room. “He always asks after you whenever he sees me or Seokmin.” 

Seokmin agreed, mouth full of scrambled eggs. “He does ask about you often, now that I think of it, but I thought he was only being polite. The Viscount is always so well-mannered.” 

You frowned at your brother. “Unlike you, Seokmin. Please swallow your food before you speak.” 

“It’s only us siblings here,” Seokmin protested.  

“You should be setting a better example as a gentleman for Chan.” 

Chan scoffed before sipping at his tea. “Please don’t insult me, sister. I know better than to emulate anything Seokmin does.” 

They began to argue and you did not have the energy or inclination to interrupt them. The gravity of your situation was slowly beginning to set in. You still harboured a certain girlish pleasure at the thought of Viscount Hong being in love with you- but you were also forced to begin thinking about what this proposal from a nobleman so superior in station to you would mean for you and your family. 

Jihoon noticed your expression. 

“Are you all right, sister?” he asked gently as Seokmin and Chan continued to argue. 

You turned to your elder brother with a hesitant smile. Jihoon was certainly the most mature of your siblings, and you trusted him implicitly.

"Do you think it will be alright? The entire ton has been watching to see whom the Viscount will marry. I cannot even begin to think of  how many young ladies must have their sights set on him. The thought of the gossip alone…"

Jihoon smiled kindly. "I did not think you were the sort of woman to be easily disturbed by gossip, sister."

"I-I am not, but you must admit that people will talk about it and you know that everyone holds him in exceedingly high regard while I am…" you bit your lip and looked at your brother, hoping he would understand your fears. 

Jihoon sighed and nodded. "I won't lie. It is an unexpected proposal and will certainly generate some surprise among the ton."

"What should I do?"

"I am sure word has not spread just yet. You should speak to Joshua about your fears."

You sighed and nodded. Perhaps you should. 

—--------------------------------------------------

It was a warm and pleasant afternoon; perfect for a ride in the park. Unfortunately, this meant that many other members of the ton had made similar plans. You were uncomfortably aware of the curious stares of some young ladies who passed by you on the walking trail. 

The Viscount was already waiting for you and Chan with the horses, but you had to stand aside and wait for a few moments as Chan monopolised the Viscount's attention. Once your younger brother's questions had been answered and he had taken his pick of the horses, the Viscount carefully took the reins of the horse you would ride and turned to you with a smile. 

"May I help you up, Miss Lee?"

Joshua stepped closer to you when you nodded. You tried not to show how flustered you felt when he gently took your hand and placed it on his shoulder, giving you the boost you needed to push yourself up onto the horse and seat yourself side-saddle. 

"Are you comfortable?" he asked with a caring smile. 

"Uh-yes, yes thank you very much," you replied. 

The Viscount and Chan each mounted their own horses. The three of you began a slow-paced ride around the park, but Chan could not resist pushing the purebred horse for a little more speed. 

"Chan! Don't go far, stay within sight!" you called after your brother as he went further ahead. Your brother merely lifted a hand to signal that he'd heard you. 

The Viscount brought his horse up to trot gently alongside yours. He was a skilled rider. 

"I… I received the flowers you sent me this morning," you began awkwardly in an attempt to make some conversation with Joshua. "Thank you. They were beautiful."

He nodded. "I am glad you liked them."

"I did. Very much."

"Have I made you uncomfortable, Miss Lee?" Joshua asked suddenly. He had a worried smile on his face. 

"N-no, why would you think so?"

"You seem to be avoiding my eyes."

You cleared your throat. Why did Joshua have to notice? It was true. You couldn't look at him, and not only because he was extremely handsome and his kind eyes caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach. You were simply too aware of the people watching you- there was a group of young ladies near the trees that gaped at you openly, and another pair of gentlemen who had been casting glances at you since Viscount Hong had helped you up onto your horse. 

"It… it is nothing," you said quickly. 

Joshua sighed. "Miss Lee. Please. The intention behind this courtship is to make you more comfortable with me and to trust me. If there is anything that troubles you-"

"There are too many eyes on us," you blurted out. 

Joshua was silent for a long moment. 

"I see. I've made another mistake," he said quietly. 

You turned to him with wide eyes. "No, not at all-"

"I have. It was quite foolish of me to ask you to come here with just your brother and no proper chaperone- and our courtship is not yet common knowledge to the ton. I failed to take your feelings into consideration, and-"

You felt miserable and rushed to correct him. "Viscount Hong, please, I never meant to suggest that you were responsible for this-"

"But I am responsible."

You shook your head and began to explain that it wasn't his fault, that it was your own insecurities and fears that were making you uncomfortable. But Joshua had already set his lips in a straight line and spurred his horse forward to catch up with Chan, leaving you behind. 

This was not a good start. 

Not at all. 

—-------------------------------------------

The ride at the park ended earlier than it should have; Chan was vocally disappointed but you were too mortified by the entire incident to object and Joshua was firm in sending you home safely escorted by his servants. 

Still; the damage was done. 

Word of your potential courtship with Joshua Hong had spread among the ton and you were faced with the full extent of the situation not three days later, at the ball hosted by the Hessingtons. 

Joshua had sent you flowers every single morning leading up to the ball, and had even written to apologise for his thoughtless invitation to ride in the park. He requested you to reserve him a dance at the Hessingtons' ball. 

You had, of course, accepted. 

The reality that this would be the first, formal social event where almost every single person in the room would have their eyes on you was clear from the moment you made your entrance with Jihoon and Seokmin. 

You had become accustomed to blending into the background at balls- Seokmin was lively and charming, hence rarely had trouble obtaining his desired female dance partners. Jihoon was more reserved when it came to women and dancing. But he had many friends among the ton and was often in the company of other gentlemen engaging in conversations about business. You had always been content to sit at the sidelines, accepting the offer of a dance when you received one and mingling with other ladies when they approached you.

But a lady being courted by Viscount Joshua Hong did not have the luxury of being ignored by the ton. 

“Miss Lee!” cried one of the more obnoxious gossip-mongers, Mrs. Patty, as soon as she found you alone at a bench. “You must come and dispel these strange rumours about you. Is it true that you are being courted by our lovely Viscount Hong?” 

You hesitated. “Erm…”

“Ha!” Mrs. Patty cried triumphantly, turning to her companions. She understood your hesitation to be a confirmation of her beliefs. “I knew there was no chance that little Miss Lee could capture our Viscount. I have been quite observant of his attention to the Duchess of Graham of late and I believe it is only a matter of time until they announce their engagement.” 

One of the other ladies tutted with disapproval. “But then Miss Lee must explain how she came to be riding in the park with Viscount Hong!” 

Your response was interrupted by the sound of a strong female voice behind you. 

“Miss Lee is not required to explain anything,” a young lady said sharply as she took your arm. You recognised her immediately, despite never having conversed with her before. 

This was Miss Hong. Viscount Hong’s infamous younger sister. 

"Miss Hong-" you began to greet her. 

"Come, Miss Lee. I have saved a seat for you near the refreshment tables, and you must sit with me until the dancing begins," Miss Hong said simply. 

You allowed her to lead you away from the gossip-mongers. 

You knew what everyone in London society said about Miss Hong. She was praised for being the most skilled pianoforte player among the ton, and it was well established that there was no young lady who could rival the musical talents of the Viscount's sister. 

But Miss Hong also had a reputation for being excessively fashionable, vain, and quick-tempered. While her status and wealth prevented anyone from saying so to her face, Miss Hong did not enjoy the same universal approval of society that her older brother did. 

"Miss Hong," you said gently. "Thank you for interrupting on my behalf. I really did not know how to answer their questions."

She brushed off your gratitude. "You need not bother about Mrs. Patty. That odious woman has been trying to make my life miserable since I was a child. I am not surprised she attempted to sink her claws into you."

You smiled awkwardly. "I see."

"I have been looking forward to meeting this elusive Miss Lee that seems to have the power to make my brother miserable," she said. You were shocked by her words, but when you turned to look at her, she was giggling. 

"I-I am so sorry, I really have no intention of upsetting the Viscount," you tried to explain. 

"Oh Miss Lee, you are such a sweetheart!" Miss Hong said with a carefree laugh. "I meant that my normally suave brother makes the most foolish mistakes around you and then renders himself miserable afterwards. You needn't apologise to me, I find the whole affair quite entertaining."

You relaxed a little. You had been anxious about how Viscount Hong's family would react to your courtship but, judging from Miss Hong's behaviour, she at least did not openly disapprove of you. 

"I warned Joshua he was being hasty about the proposal and that he should have someone speak to you first to assess your reaction," Miss Hong continued as she gestured for you to join her on the bench. "But he said it was not appropriate and that naturally he had to seek your father's permission before speaking to you."

You nodded. "I see…"

Miss Hong gave you a sympathetic smile. "My brother is kind but he is still a man. Society is more forgiving towards his type. He does not understand the fears and pressures that we face as young ladies."

You felt the need to defend your Viscount. 

"He has certainly been very thoughtful and considerate towards me-"

Miss Hong laughed. "Has he? Or perhaps you are blinded by your love for him."

"But the entire ton agrees that the Viscount has the most excellent manners, and-"

"Oh," Miss Hong said scornfully. "The ton. Miss Lee, I am sorry to say that if you intend to marry my brother, you must learn to take the opinions of the ton with a pinch of salt. Being a Viscountess is not an easy job. And it is certainly not one for a weak or feeble-minded woman."

Her words struck you like a blow to the face. 

A Viscountess. You would be a Viscountess if you were to marry Joshua. It suddenly occurred to you how much power and authority came from a title like that, and the strength and poise with which women carrying such coveted titles conducted themselves. 

You had certainly never seen a Viscountess who stumbled over her words in front of gossiping old women. 

Miss Hong noticed your sudden silence. 

"I apologise if I have offended you, Miss Lee," she said quickly. "It was not my intention to call you weak or feeble-minded. I am sure you are neither. But if I may be so bold as to make a suggestion, purely coming from my goodwill as your potential future sister-in-law…"

You nodded at her. You did not know if Miss Hong was as vain or quick-tempered as the ton claimed. But in this confusing reality, she was the only person willing to tell you the truth. 

 "Please do," you said. 

"You should use this courtship wisely. Not only to consider whether you wish to marry my brother… but also whether you wish to become a Viscountess. If you choose to marry Joshua, you should carry his title as a matter of pride, not as a burden. That is the only way you can be happy together."

Oh. 

You took a deep breath as you considered her words and then turned to Miss Hong, clasping her hand in yours.

"Thank you," you told her quietly. "For your honesty."

She smiled- a sudden, genuine smile that was rare for the fashionable young debutante. 

"Thank you for not being offended by it," Miss Hong replied. "Now, I regret to inform you that the dancing has begun and my brother approaches to claim your company for the first dance."

You nodded before turning to see that Joshua had indeed appeared from the crowd with his usual handsome smile. 

"Miss Lee," the Viscount greeted you warmly, offering you his hand. He raised an eyebrow at his sister. "I hope my sister has not been troubling you."

"Not at all!" you said quickly. "She has been very kind."

Miss Hong stood and smiled as she smoothed down the front of her fashionably decorated ball-gown. "Excuse me- I have promised this dance to Mr. Hessington," she said lightly before disappearing into the crowd. 

The Viscount turned to you. 

"And I believe you have promised this dance to me," he reminded you with a smile. 

"So I have."

You allowed Joshua to lead you out onto the floor for a pleasant waltz. The dance was not very demanding- and it allowed you both the chance to have a much-needed conversation. 

"I do hope my sister did not trouble you," Joshua said slowly. "She is known to be rather…"

"Honest?" you asked. 

"I was going to say impudent," he replied with a chuckle. "Although I dare say she usually means well."

"No, not at all. She helped me put things in perspective. I will admit that everything about our courtship is… new to me. I cannot help but have some fears and concerns about it all, and… I… I do not want you to think that I am ungrateful for the flowers and letters because I really am not, you have been very thoughtful and kind, I-I only…"

You were beginning to stumble over your words and your cheeks turned hot. Joshua's hand squeezed your gloved one reassuringly. 

"Tell me," he pressed you softly. "I would like nothing more than to hear your feelings."

"I wish we could have a conversation," you admitted slowly. "Only the two of us. Without- without any interruptions or eavesdropping chaperones so that-that we could have an honest discussion about the future and what this really means for each of us."

Joshua's expression was gentle. 

"Of course, Miss Lee. I agree entirely. I think we have stumbled blindly through this courtship without understanding each other. An open discussion would certainly help."

You nodded. "Well, yes. Open but…" you cleared your throat and glanced around you anxiously. "Well. Discreet, if you understand my meaning. Since we are not officially engaged."

He chuckled. 

"Of course. I understand perfectly. Would you do me the honour of coming to the assembly rooms on Thursday evening? I believe I can arrange for our… discreet discussion there."

You smiled and nodded. 

"Yes. Yes, that sounds wonderful."

"Excellent."

—---------------------------------------------------

Viscount Hong was a man of his word. 

You arrived at the assembly rooms on Thursday; Seokmin had been glad to accompany you as he had a bet to settle at the card tables with Mr. Yoon Jeonghan. 

Upon your arrival, the Viscount offered you his arm and requested your company for a walk around the gardens. You accepted- after all, you were now openly courting him, what harm could a walk about the gardens do? To your surprise, Joshua led you towards a thick copse of trees at the end of the path that provided complete cover and privacy from the rest of the gardens and the assembly rooms. 

"Shall we speak here?" Viscount Hong asked you. 

You nodded hesitantly. "Yes- I am shocked that you discovered this, it is such a private little corner."

Joshua looked slightly embarrassed. "The spot was recommended to me by Mr. Kim Mingyu. He is rather more… experienced than I am when it comes to finding ways to do things that society may not approve of."

You giggled. "You mean he is a rake."

"He admits it quite openly," Joshua agreed. 

"And we will not be interrupted- nobody will accidentally stumble upon us here?" you asked nervously.

"It is unlikely. In any case, I have asked Mr. Kim to watch over the garden path from the balcony. If anyone begins to walk in this direction, he will send us a warning," Joshua replied. 

You were flattered that Joshua would go to so much effort to indulge your simple request for a private conversation. 

"Thank you," you told him honestly. 

"It is the least I could do, Miss Lee. I understand that I have thrown quite a wrench in your life this past week. You have me quite flustered- I seem to repeatedly make poor judgements in your regard, and I will strive to remedy that."

You looked up to see the genuine regret in his eyes. It was still so strange to you that the Viscount should care so much about you and you could not help but feel a warmth towards him. 

"Viscount Hong, please do not say so. You have not made any mistakes, really."

Joshua reached his hands out hesitantly towards yours. You realised that he was seeking permission to hold your hands- and you offered them to him freely. 

His warm hands clasped yours. 

"May I go first?" he asked. 

You nodded.

"You asked me the other night why I wanted to marry you," Joshua began. He spoke slowly- as though every word was being carefully considered. "I will admit I was not prepared for that question, and I did a poor job of answering it. Will you allow me to answer it again?"

"Of course."

"Over the last year, ever since it became clear that the time had come for me to marry- I have met and considered many young women of my acquaintance. They all have their charms, of course, but I found that only your charms made a consistent and lasting impact on me."

You looked at him with surprise. 

"My charms? I must insist you tell me what these are, Viscount Hong, since I am entirely unaware of them," you laughed as your cheeks slowly turned hot.

Joshua chuckled. "I would be glad to elaborate. I know your brothers well, Miss Lee, and I am familiar with the difficulties that your family has faced. I have watched you bear them with quiet dignity. You have a strength and maturity that is rare among young women of your age- indeed, rare for any person at all. Even in the face of my hasty proposal, you had the presence of mind to stop me and question me. You are kind and generous; but not a woman who is easily swayed. That is what makes me confident that you would be a perfect choice for a life partner, and makes me want more than anything in the world to be your husband."

Your heart swelled. It was strange; you had expected some vague words from him about love and admiration- something along the lines of what you read in novels. 

But Joshua's answer gave you more confidence than any declaration of love could have. 

You now understood that his proposal, as sudden as it may have seemed to you, was not a rash or hasty decision on his part. Joshua had watched you, considered you, understood you… and still chosen you. 

"I… don't know if I deserve such praise," you told him softly. "I have not behaved very maturely this past week."

"What makes you say that?" he asked gently. 

"I have been selfish. My fears and insecurities got the better of me, and I worried about the gossip that our courtship would create and what people would think. How they would react to you proposing to someone like me."

Joshua shook his head. "Those are reasonable fears. And I have not done a very good job of protecting you from the ton's speculations."

You took a deep breath and looked up at him. 

"You do not need to protect me."

Joshua looked startled. "Miss Lee…"

"I have had time to think about what I want from our courtship, and what I can offer.  Entering into this with the expectation that I should be protected from the hardships involved is foolish. If we are to be married, then I will be a Viscountess. I cannot live my life fearing the opinions of the ton."

Joshua smiled. Your face had taken on a determined expression. It was the first time since the night of his proposal that you looked like yourself again- without that fear and anxiety looming behind your eyes. 

"You have nothing to fear from the ton," he assured you. "I will always be with you."

"Your sister said something to me that struck me deeply," you told him. "She said that if I was to become a Viscountess, then I should carry the title as a matter of pride and not as a burden."

Joshua sighed. "My sister has a strange relationship with pride."

"Perhaps so, but I think there is some truth in what she said," you replied. "It boils down to this… I would be proud to call myself your wife. And as long as you would be proud to call yourself my husband, then I do not think that there is anything society can do to ruin our happiness."

Joshua's eyes twinkled. His grip on your hands pulled you closer to him- you were mere inches away from him now and you could not tear your eyes away from his. 

"Dangerous words, Miss Lee," he warned. 

"Oh?"

"You are only making me fall more in love with you."

Your cheeks turned hot but you smiled up at him. "And you are treading dangerous waters, Viscount Hong. We are alone here, without a chaperone. I thought you were a gentleman?"

Joshua nodded. His eyes briefly flickered down to your lips. "I am. Will you allow me to kiss you?"

You flushed. "We are not even engaged…"

"I will stop if you ask me to."

"... Do not stop."

Joshua's right arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to him. Your hands naturally placed themselves on his shoulders as he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. 

It was a delicate kiss; one filled with passion and longing. Joshua was careful with you. One of his hands cupped your cheek as he pulled away slightly. He pressed his forehead to yours and gave you a small smile. 

"Have I made another mistake?" he asked breathlessly. 

You felt light-headed from the kiss but you managed to look up at him with a small pout. 

"You know perfectly well that you have not," you scolded him. 

"I had to check- my judgement always fails me around you. You cloud my senses," Joshua whispered. "You are the only woman that can make me doubt my own actions."

You looked up at the handsome man in front of you with adoration.

"I would never want you to doubt yourself," you told him firmly. 

"Then shall I kiss you again?"

"Please."

Joshua kissed you again- and again, and again, until you were both entangled in a mess of lips and tongues and limbs, allowing your bodies to express the adoration that words could not satisfy. In your heated whispers between soft, sensuous kisses, Viscount Hong became Joshua, and Joshua became my love. 

—---------------------------------------------------------

The passionate courtship that ensued had the ton in an uproar. 

It was all over the gossip sheets, and on the lips of every member of the ton: Miss Lee had cast a spell on Viscount Joshua Hong and he was absolutely smitten with her. 

Joshua made no effort to abate the gossip. Instead, flowers and letters arrived at your doorstep every single morning. Some days he would send you presents; pretty little hand mirrors, ribbons, satin gloves…. always accompanied by love notes stating how they made him think of you. (He even once sent you a set of silk garters that was almost opened by Nessie. You scolded him thoroughly and his gifts remained family-appropriate thereafter). 

Joshua danced with you-and only you- at every ball. It caused an immense displeasure among the ladies of the ton and Mrs. Patty even saw fit to complain to you on one occasion. 

"How unfortunate that Viscount Hong will not look at the Duchess anymore," Mrs. Patty bemoaned openly to you. "She would have suited him so well- so rich and with her own title."

"Yes," you said to the older woman calmly. "It is unfortunate indeed that Viscount Hong has no need to marry for riches or titles. He shall have to settle with marrying for love, instead."

Mrs. Patty gave you a sharp look but you heard no more from her on the subject. 

The whispers were not all pleasant, naturally. Many gossiped about how Viscount Hong was clearly marrying down, how your dowry and station and beauty were so far beneath his. It was painful when these whispers reached your ears- but it was a pain that you would gladly bear for the privilege of being with Joshua. To his credit, Joshua swiftly and politely silenced anything that reached his ears. 

The weeks flew by; and on the 30th day from his initial hasty proposal, Viscount Joshua Hong appeared once more on your doorstep just before suppertime. (This time with notice- Dotty had been able to prepare her venison pie.)

"My father is away on business," you informed Joshua as you led him to the dining room where your siblings were all waiting for supper to be served. "So I am afraid that you will not be able to ask for his permission to  propose to me again."

"How unfortunate," Joshua said with a chuckle as Lily ran up to him and greeted him with a hug. He lifted her into his arms easily and set her down in her seat at the table. "It would be very inappropriate to propose to you without permission- but whose permission shall I seek?"

Chan piped up. "You could ask Jihoon."

Jihoon looked up from his plate with a raised eyebrow. "I would not dare to assume such a monumental responsibility. You will have to seek permission elsewhere."

"Seokmin?" Joshua asked. 

Seokmin shrugged. "Ask me again after supper. I am too hungry to grant any permissions at the moment."

Joshua chuckled. "Chan?"

Chan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I could be persuaded… for the price of an Arabian horse, perhaps?"

"Absolutely not," you said firmly. 

Joshua settled down into his seat and turned to your little sister Lily, who was looking up at him with a big smile and a gap in her teeth. 

"What shall I do, Lily?" Joshua asked her with a mock sigh. "I had hoped to propose to your elder sister tonight, but your father is not in town and none of your brothers will grant me permission."

Lily frowned. "Why do you need permission?"

"It is good manners to seek the permission of a woman's loved ones before making an offer to her."

"Then I shall grant you permission, Viscount Hong! You may marry my sister."

You couldn't hold back your laugh; Nessie giggled and the corner of even Jihoon's lips curved upwards. Joshua gracefully accepted her permission and then turned to you with his usual handsome, charming smile. 

"Well, Miss Lee; what say you? Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?" Joshua asked you with a chuckle. Lily looked up at you expectantly with big eyes. 

You smiled back at Joshua. 

"Well, since Lily has granted her permission…"

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes, Viscount Hong. I would be honoured to become your wife."

—--------------------------------------------------------

[mirai-e-jump]

Animage March 2024 Issue ft. Ohsama Sentai King-Ohger Main Cast Member Interviews (translations below)

Publication: February 8, 2024 (between episodes 47-48)

-Their six hearts are now united as one-

Sakai Taisei: Gira Husty/KuwagataOhger King of Shugoddam. In actuality, he's a being created by Dagded. He vows to his older brother Racules, who had been fighting to save their people, that he'll carry on his will as king.

Watanabe Aoto: Yanma Gast/TomboOhger King of N'kosopa. He was brainwashed by Hilbil, and was about to be consumed by the power that he possessed, but after being punched by Gira, he snaps out of it and they defeat Hilbil.

Murakami Erica: Hymeno Ran/KamakiriOhger Queen of Ishabana. While she was conflicted by the possibility of conquering death through the eternal life that Jeramie possessed, she was determined to use it to defeat Grodie.

Hirakawa Yuzuki: Rita Kaniska/PapillonOhger King of Gokkan and Chief Justice of the Supreme Court. They trust Morphonia, their retainer who they've known since law school, and entrusts Gokkan to her as their potential successor.

Kaku So: Kaguragi Dybowski/HachiOhger Lord of Toufu. Wishing for the happiness of his younger sister Suzume, who is in love with Racules, he decides to remove her as a potential successor. Together with Rita, they seal away Minongan.

Ikeda Masashi: Jeramie Brasieri/Spider Kumonos King of the Bugnarak. He was born between a human and a Bugnarak, and wishes for both to coexist. He teaches his people, the Sanagim, how to live hand in hand with others. _

The Six Kingdom Unusual Incident Countermeasure Lifesaving Force, also known as: Ohsama Sentai King-Ohger. Centering around the kings of the six kingdoms of Chikyu - Gira, Yanma, Hymeno, Rita, Kaguragi, and Jeramie, it's an alliance formed so they can fight a common enemy, free of personal interests and across all borders.

The kings, who are the rulers of their counties, often took different actions after the formation of the Royal Sentai due to their pride, responsibility, and the mission and beliefs that they held in their hearts. Still, it's also true that a solid bond was formed through their battles.

The event that symbolized this was the second "Wrath of God" by the awakened Grodie. Making the most of their abilities and the power of their countries, the kings trusted each other, and skillfully worked together to bring the situation under control, achieving a miracle of zero casualties.

Even though they talk about it being for the benefit of their country or their own mission, the concern they have for their citizens is mutual. They may never get used to each other, but they don't hesitate to join forces when there's an emergency. This sense of distance and detachment is perhaps the greatest characteristic of the Royal Sentai.

The only remaining enemies are Kamejim, the last of the Uchu Five Jesters, and the Uchu King Dagded, who is responsible for everything. However, the Royal Sentai still don't have the means to defeat Dagded, who possesses unparalleled power. As the decisive battle between the Royal Sentai and Dagded approaches, let's see how it goes down until the final moment! _

-Gira's best scene!-

Murakami: My favorite scene is when he's eating a daikon radish in episode 4! (laughs).

Kaku: How nostalgic!

Murakami: I really liked it! Also, his "archaic smile" (episode 11).

Sakai: Ah! Towards the beginning!

Murakami: Yeah, the child of god Gira. The part with robo Gira was funny too. It's unforgettable.

Watanabe: I liked when he said "Woyal armz!" (episode 45).

Hirakawa: He said something like that (laughs).

Ikeda: That was cute.

Murakami: I liked that too (laughs).

Ikeda: His pill bug (pill taxi) outfit was also cute.

Sakai: I also liked the pill bug costume. And then, there was the confusing scene with Kaguragi towards the end……(episode 15).

Ikeda: The, "Laugh for me!" part. It's cool that you said it so seriously while looking like that.

Kaku: It was a passionate scene.

Ikeda: Jeramie was also watching that exchange nearby, so I remember that scene well. It was also funny to hear him say things like "Poopsopa" (episode 2).

Sakai: I wish I didn't say that.

Hirakawa: I think for me it's the trial scene in episode 5. Out of all the members, Rita was the only one who strongly judged Gira, and I remember Gira's reaction and the change in his facial expression when they told him the facts one by one during the trial. As the presiding judge, they're the only one looking directly at Gira's expressions.

Kaku: That seems to be the case now that you mention it!

Watanabe: As for cool scenes, I like the part in episode 17 when he dodges Yanma's fist. Taisei and I watched it back together 2 or 3 times and said, "Oh! This is it! This is it!" (laughs).

Sakai: Gira is often by someone's side. If it's a main episode for Yanma, he's by Yanma's side, and it's the same for the other. I think that main episodes with Gira being alone are probably the least common.

Kaku: That's true.

Sakai: Still, that's what I really like about them.

Kaku: I think for me, it's when he angrily armed himself with the royal armor in episode 29. When Jeramie betrayed them along with Gerojim.

All: Oh~!

Hirakawa: The part with Hilbil! He said, "That wasn't for you."

Kaku: Right.

Hirakawa: It was definitely cool when the beam of light shined from his eyes.

Kaku: Also, the scene where Gira's face turns into King-Ohger (episode 40).

Sakai: That might be my favorite.

All: (laughs).

Ikeda: Your facial expressions were good too (laughs).

Watanabe: The day after the broadcast, we called Taisei "King-Ohger" (laughs).

Sakai: I was the only one who truly became King-Ohger, so, it was an honor.

All: (burst out laughing).

Hirakawa: It's definitely special (laughs). Gira also has a good character song. I especially like the beginning.

Sakai: The English part. I think it matches Gira's worldview really well.

Ikeda: It's like a culmination.

Sakai: Right, Gira's a culmination.

Kaku: Eh? Shuu"taisei"? (*shuutaisei = culmination)

Ikeda: Yes, you got it (laughs).

Murakami: You're so quick at making puns like that……(laughs).

-Yanma's best scene!-

Kaku: My favorite was, (waving his hand) "Gi~ra~!"

All: "I've come to help you~!"

Murakami: The one where Gerojim impersonates him (episode 8).

Watanabe: That episode was my first time at Mt. Iwafune (a reoccuring location in the Super Sentai series), so I was really excited (laughs).

Hirakawa: Before filming, he looked at the mountain while brushing his teeth and kept saying things like, "Yikes" and "Amazing."

All: (laughs).

Hirakawa: When the camera was pointing at him, he was all smiley and doing peace signs (laughs). In the Yanma, or rather, Aoto scenes, he seemed to be having alot of fun during the body swap episode (episode 28) (laughs). It was funny.

Watanabe: I'm glad you weren't angry at me.

Hirakawa: I wasn't angry (laughs).

Kaku: You kept rolling your eyes (laughs).

Sakai: Do you feel like your range of acting has expanded because of that?

Hirakawa: Yeah, it's expanded. Yanma played Rita in various ways, so when I returned to being Rita, I think my range of the role expanded abit.

Watanabe: I see.

Hirakawa: I don't think you do (laughs).

Murakami: For me, I think it's the "Guess I've become a privileged person." scene (episode 35). Up until that point, Yanma often stood his ground, so I like how he accepted the situation as he watched N'kosopa burn.

Watanabe: That scene was made to look like it was in the evening, but we filmed it first thing in the morning. Furthermore, it was the first scene to be filmed for that episode (laughs).

Hirakawa: That's rough (laughs).

Murakami: Amazing (laughs). He talked about having privileges before with Hymeno, so I was wondering if he found himself back there by chance.

Watanabe: Yeah, he talked about it in episode 7. For scenes in N'kosopa, the hacking battle was also hard……(episode 2).

Kaku: It was really cold, wasn't it?

Watanabe: I couldn't stop my body from shaking or my teeth from chattering. I'll never forget that. I was only calm during the actual performance.

Ikeda: You were extremely focused.

Kaku: I'd name that one as one of the best scenes.

Hirakawa: I'd agree. You worked hard and it paid off.

Ikeda: There were two scenes that I particularly liked with Yanma. One was the scene where he announced himself to his opponent, Daigorg (episode 17). The way he said it was totally different from how he usually said it, and it was very manly. The other was when he was being manipulated by Jeramie (episode 36).

Murakami: That one was funny (laughs).

Ikeda: The awkward dance performance was so good that I bursted out laughing (laughs).

Watanabe: I learned the choreography from Ikeda Sensei.

All: (laughs).

Watanabe: I was told to improvise that scene, but I have no knowledge when it comes to dancing. I asked Masashi for advice, and he taught me the Awa Odori dance of Tokushima, his hometown (laughs). He really helped me out at that time.

Sakai: For me, it's episode 44. In episode 17, Gira dodges Yanma's punch, but in this episode, it's reversed. As I played the role, I was moved, as I was reminded of those days.

Watanabe: And after that, when we beat Hilbil, it wasn't a parody, but I said the same line as in episode 2, being, "Know your place!"

Sakai: That's right!

Watanabe: That was real hot.

Ikeda: Gira and Yanma have quite a few scenes showing the passionate friendship between them, don't they? Truly, a great duo.

-Hymeno's best scene!-

Watanabe: I think I'd pick the body swap (episode 29).

Hirakawa: The way she said "Royal Arms!" was amazing.

Murakami: I'm sorry for doing something that Kaguragi wouldn't do (laughs).

Kaku: It's mutual (laughs).

Watanabe: Matchless Murakami

Hirakawa & Kaku: Matchless Murakami (laughs).

Kaku: I haven't been able to watch the footage yet (at the time of this interview), but it looks like episode 46 will also produce some great scenes.

Watanabe: Yeah, it's between Jeramie and Hymeno. They said some wise words.

Kaku: The movie was also very good.

Sakai: I also really like, "No one can do it but me," when she saves Racules (episode 42). I feel that she's full of confidence.

Kaku: That was really cool. It had a "Black Jack" feel to it. (*character from manga series of the same name)

Murakami: I feel that most of the memorable scenes for Hymeno are related to her family and life.

Kaku: Also, the rage filled fight against Jeramie (episode 14).

Ikeda: I was scared at that time (laughs).

Murakami: Sorry for being so strong (laughs).

Watanabe: In the episode before that, we were beaten up by Jeramie, but this time Jeramie was instantly defeated by Hymeno.

All: (laughs).

Hirakawa: The power balance turned out to be amazing (laughs).

Sakai: There are quite alot of angry scenes.

Murakami: That's true.

Kaku: Especially when it comes to her family.

Murakami: Yeah, the word "you" comes out. I thought it was out of character for Hymeno, but that's what happens when it comes to family matters. (*informal "you" was used)

Sakai: When she got mad at Jeramie, Gira told her that it makes her face ugly.

Murakami: I remember the Director telling me at the time to "make an ugly face." (laughs).

Sakai: I feel kinda bad (laughs).

Hirakawa: For me, it'd have to be episode 30. It's the scene where she faces Grodie. As Rita, she stopped me when I was trying to use the secret technique, so I feel like there was a strong bond that formed between the two of us. It was filmed during the really hot season.

Murakami: It was really tough! I wasn't used to filming on location because we usually only film in the studio, so I was thinking, "I want to be freed from this heat!" (laughs).

Hirakawa: Well, we overcame the filming process by supporting each other. We gained alot from each other through the performance, and the relationship between Rita and Hymeno was established from episode 30, so it was very memorable. It's always touching no matter how many times I watch it.

Ikeda: The episode where Kamejim disguised himself as Hymeno was also good (episode 36).

All: Ah~!

Ikeda: The disguised Hymeno's performance as a villainess was amazing, and I think it showed the strength and beauty of the real Hymeno. I also loved how she said "Let's dance!" with so much energy (episode 34).

Hirakawa: You say that all the time (laughs).

Murakami: That's what Sakanashi Yume-san (KamakiriOhger's Suit Actor) says, so I get really excited when I say it (laughs).

Ikeda: Your pronunciation was also good.

Watanabe: I sometimes want to try and adlib in some English.

Ikeda: I get the impression that she uses English when she's agitated (laughs).

Murakami: That's what happens when I try to show her innocence (laughs).

-Rita's best scene!-

Kaku: For Rita……I guess we can't leave out the idol episode, huh? (episode 38).

Watanabe: Obviously.

Sakai: I think the idol episode is my favorite too. There's a scene where Gira fights with them over the Moffun picture book.

Hirakawa: That's right, that's right. The part with, "Moffun isn't needed anymore, right?!" We practiced that alot, didn't we? Things like, "I'll go this way."

Kaku: Oh~!

Hirakawa: We ran around alot.

Ikeda: I also liked when they changed into the royal armor with the idol costume. Girls must've loved that.

Sakai: It was like Sailor Moon.

Hirakawa: I spoke in a lower voice than usual. Rita was irritated.

Ikeda: Yeah, they were mad.

Hirakawa: Right, that's why it was very low.

Kaku: For upcoming episodes, there's another cool scene in episode 48.

Hirakawa: They say something to Yanma.

Sakai: It was cool.

Kaku: Also, Rita is silly when they eat something like dangos. They try to eat it from above their high collar (episode 5).

Murakami: Rita and food are a good match, huh?

Hirakawa: Eating scenes are pretty difficult. Ultimately, I couldn't even eat those dangos.

Kaku: Is that so?

Hirakawa: Originally, that scene was alot longer, as I was trying out different ways of eating it.

Ikeda: I also like the scene where they dive to grab Moffun.

Murakami: Ah! When they were tricked by Dagded! (episode 31).

Ikeda: Right, Hymeno was playing the role of the plushie.

Hirakawa: Rita shouts, "Moffun!" and lunges for it. My voice was added later during the dub.

Watanabe: Ah, "that one" is probably my best scene (laughs).

Hirakawa: Which? (laughs).

Murakami: He's laughing so hard (laughs).

Watanabe: The scene in episode 4 where Kaguragi calls Rita. It's the part where they walk very slow. Rita, in the beginning, every time they walked, they went super slow.

All: (laughs).

Murakami: It was the same for episode 5. They were reeeally slow (laughs).

Watanabe: I was like, "Can't you just walk normally?!"

All: (burst out laughing).

Hirakawa: You wouldn't stop complaining (laughs). He was saying things like, "Walk so I can hear you!" (laughs).

Watanabe: I want you all to watch it again (laughs).

Murakami: I think I really like the body swap episode (episode 28). If you look closely, you'll see that they're like a DJ (laughs).

Kaku: Yeah (laughs).

Murakami: Normally, Rita can't really break their character, right? That's why I really liked seeing Hirakawa Yuzuki when her screws were loosened. It was also funny to see them trying to get everyone in prison to go home.

Kaku: The "Yay!" part.

Hirakawa: The "careful on your way back" scene.

Murakami: Dialog like that wasn't written in the script.

Hirakawa: I was told to "Just do what fits" (laughs). I thought alot about what to do.

Watanabe: Also, they had such a happy face when they talked to Gira, who was in Jeramie's body.

Hirakawa: It's the part where they say, "We stomp him out and the problem will be solved." Rita never smiles, so I thought I'd show their teeth!

-Kaguragi's best scene!-

Murakami: I really like your interactions with Suzume. I especially like the scenes when Iroki appears from 17 years ago.

Kaku: Episode 37, right?

Murakami: Right. That episode depicted Kaguragi's determination and resolve, and the way he armed himself with the royal armor through the katana was cool.

Kaku: Well, I thought I had been forgiven for everything.

All: (laughs).

Ikeda: I want you to sell me that katana.

Sakai: I'd pick the scene with Iroki from that episode. The exchange with her while the castle was burning was really amazing.

Ikeda: When Suzume first appeared, his "siscon" behavior was uncanny but cute (episode 15).

Kaku: It's not Suzume (acting that way)? (laughs).

Ikeda: Right, it's Kaguragi (laughs).

Watanabe: For scenes with Suzume, I liked the look on his face during Racules and Suzume's wedding (episode 20).

Kaku: He was abit dazed and confused (laughs).

Watanabe: I really like Kaguragi's facial expressions. At some point, you mentioned that the way you smile is based on Ghibli films.

Kaku: Yeah, I think we talked about that.

Watanabe: I remember thinking, "I didn't know he had such an approach!" The scene in episode 39, where Kaguragi looks up at the night sky after defeating Goma made me think, "Ah, this has a Ghibli feel to it!"

All: Ah~!

Watanabe: The way he grinned was very Ghibli like (laughs). It's hard for me to explain it well though.

Ikeda: Does it feel alittle creepy?

Murakami: The smile didn't match the setting, so it's very memorable.

Watanabe: It comes off as creepy and cute at the same time.

Kaku: Cute? (laughs).

Ikeda: Also, there's that other best scene too. His sleeping face when he swaps bodies with Hymeno (episode 28).

Watanabe: The sleeping face of an angel.

Ikeda: An angel (laughs). The sigh that came from him……what else can I say?

Watanabe: An angel's breath.

All: (laughs).

Kaku: You're teasing me~ (laughs).

Murakami: Can you please stop making yourself cuter than the "real one"? (laughs).

Kaku: No, no, the "real one" is cuter than me, right?

Ikeda: (looking at Murakami) Your face is becoming bright red (laughs).

Murakami: Eh? You're kidding?!

Sakai: It's really red (laughs).

Hirakawa: I think it's episode 45 for me. Kaguragi and Rita didn't have that much of a relationship with each other. They didn't have that many scenes together in that episode either.

Kaku: That's true. It's because they're both together with Morphonia and Suzume.

Hirakawa: Right. I really enjoyed the scene where the two of them used the power of the King's Proof.

Kaku: I also became a red oni.

Murakami: That was amazing (laughs).

Hirakawa: That red oni was wild (laughs).

Ikeda: He was as red as Marie's face just now.

All: (burst out laughing).

Kaku: My bad~ (laughs).

Murakami: I seriously need you to cut it out (laughs).

Watanabe: The person in charge of being cute for King-Ohger is me though~

All: (laughs).

Hirakawa: He went and said it (laughs).

Ikeda: You're putting yourself in a dangerous position right now.

Watanabe: These two guys here (Murakami and Kaku) are tough.

Kaku: Does that include me? (laughs).

-Jeramie's best scene!-

Sakai: There's alot for Jeramie.

Murakami: First, there's the battle with Desnarak (episode 26). I really liked that one.

Kaku: We made fun of it by imitating the "It's bright…" scene.

Hirakawa: It's funny when the person who actually fought says it (laughs).

Kaku: Still, that scene was good. While recording the dub, I actually cried.

Hirakawa: That's true, I could hear you sniffling next to me.

Ikeda: Immediately after the recording he said, "I can use this line when inviting someone out to a drinking party."

All: (laughs).

Watanabe: "You're coming too," right? (laughs).

Hirakawa: That's what he said (laughs).

Kaku: Yeah, that's right (laughs).

Hirakawa: I think for me, it's the scene where he declares the founding of his nation in the live broadcast to the people (episode 26).

Kaku: It was something about humans and Bugnarak joining hands.

Hirakawa: Right, "I want you to pass on the story that we were able to reconcile." That speech was really good.

Murakami: I think Jeramie's slightly mischievous and childlike nature is also a key point. It was the same when he was manipulating Yanma in episode 36, or the episode with Racules and the whoopie cushion (episode 19). I guess I like those mischievously funny scenes. There are alot of cool scenes though.

Kaku: It was really cool when the Spider Mask came off (episode 11).

Hirakawa: He flung off his cloak

Kaku: I used to imitate the line, "I'm just an old fashioned storyteller."

Ikeda: And you were good at it.

Kaku: That's when the Jeramie Brasieri competition started, hosted by me (laughs).

Ikeda: Oh yeah. "Is there anyone better than me?!" Isn't that what you usually said?

All: (laughs)

Kaku: That's right.

Sakai: I wonder what it was like stepping on Jeramie (episode 37).

Watanabe: We were trying to eat Grodie's rice balls in Toufu. Gira, Yanma and Hymeno trampled him.

Sakai: It was surprising to see that Gira would step on Jeramie, and I had to put alittle effort into it during filming (laughs).

Ikeda: Yanma was rubbing my butt (laughs).

Kaku: That was funny (laughs). I don't know why Jeramie was being stepped on, since the episode didn't depict that part.

Sakai: I wonder if Jeramie was desperately trying to stop Gira and the others. He gets pushed too hard, and then that happens.

Hirakawa: He gets crushed by three people.

Murakami: Sorry about that time.

Ikeda: Hymeno was the nicest.

Watanabe: It's episode 29 for me. After Jeramie finishes giving his fake speech, Jeramie's song (The Prophet) plays when the five fight.

Hirakawa: It was good!

Watanabe: Jeramie wasn't there, but it felt like the six of them were fighting.

Ikeda: In that scene, you could see the relationship between the five of them from their expressions.

Murakami: It was also sad and beautiful when he said, "Sweet dreams" and then disappeared.

Sakai: It was great (applauding).

Ikeda: Thank you.