#including both of her sort-of-children

[jesse-is-inarguably-purple]

Pyrrha Dve, stone-cold fox

[itspileofgoodthings]

Twelve year-old me is so elated that you enjoyed The Witch of Blackbird Pond. I read it a few years before I ever picked up Jane Austen, and it's true, my heart must have known there was something Austenesque about it because I never forgot it. Nat and Kit are definitely one of the all time OTPs, full stop.

They’re sooooo good!!! And centered so perfectly.

I’m so happy I read it! (And I’m glad you enjoyed the liveblog. 💚💚💚)

[theglamorousferal]

Teenaged Danny and Bruce meet somehow and become friends. (Summer camp? Boarding school? Training? Gala with Vlad? Can't be a TUE au because the clones need to exist for this particular fic.)

They lose contact when Bruce drops off the map to train to be Batman.

In the meantime, Danny has ascended to the Throne of the Infinite Realms and established himself as some sort of paranormal archeologist in the living world. (It's easiest way to declare treasure from the King's Coffers to the IRS.)

After Vlad got redeemed ( l like to think after he got over himself and realized he was in love with BOTH Maddie and Jack), he turned over all his research to Danny. This includes the fragmented cores of all the Danny clones.

After an issue where Danielle was destabilizing again, they found that if they introduced another person's DNA, that she would stabilize. Sam volunteers. So Danielle is stabilized with Sam's DNA, however it ages her down so now she's her actual age, 11 at this time. Danny is 26, and ends up adopting her, she chooses the name Ellie. Ellie ends up with some of Sam's attributes, like her eyes turning more purple and her hair being easier to tame.

After some researching, it's found that the clone's cores could reform themselves if they can absorb enough healthy ectoplasm and a stable human DNA donor.

When Dan breaks out and is shoved into a clone body, he asks Valerie to be his donor, as she was the last person he had respected. He ends up at three years younger than Danielle. He prefers the name Dante. His skin is darker than it was, and his hair gains a wave to it when in human form, it's still flames when in ghost form.

The first of the failed clones to reform about 5 years later got some of Tucker's DNA. A pair of twins that have heterochromia with one piercing blue and one ocean teal eye, on opposite sides of course. They go by Kelly and Sprite. (they were the bedsheet and pixie ghosts) Somehow the genetics introduced while they were still dormant resulted in them both being girls. They appeared as 9 year-olds.

The last one took the longest to reform and when he did, he reformed as 6 years old. Obsidian used some of Wes's DNA. He got Wes's green eyes and freckles.

Danny is able to work with each of his adopted but also genetic children to harness their powers and helps them re-form their ghost halves so they can choose how they present themselves to the world instead of being locked into their original forms.

Fast forward about 9 years and the Fenton family is attending a gala at a museum that Danny is lending pieces to in Gotham. He ends up running into Bruce who is there with his gaggle of children. They end up getting lost in their conversation and are going over the different things they've been doing since they last saw each other. They end up dancing together at least once, Danny beaming and a quiet smile on Bruce's face not normally seen when he's in his Brucie persona.

Somehow the children of both of them have all found each other and are observing their respective parents closely, noting that they haven't seen their father look so besotted in a long time.

Numbers are exchanged and group chats are made. They plan to Parent Trap their fathers together.

[wileys-russo]

Not sure if you’re taking requests but I’m a sad and anxious American who could use a bit of happiness rn. Thank you in advance but also no worries if this doesn’t spark anything.

Just a little fluffy something with Leah or Alessia at home, “there’s no way these are vegan” after surprising them with homemade brownies

special brownies II l.williamson, a.russo

"less you can't eat brownies, we have a match tomorrow." leah reminded sternly as you carded your fingers through the moody strikers hair, her head resting in your lap as she groaned loudly at your other girlfriends words.

"yeah leah a match i have to play on my period! at least let me eat some sort of warm chocolate if i can't curl into a ball and die." alessia mumbled miserably, rolling over and pushing her face into your hoodie covered stomach.

"don't!" you mouthed at the older girl who scoffed and was clearly ready to say something that absolutely would not help the situation. "i'll make you brownies for after the game tomorrow baby, i promise." you assured alessia, rubbing her back gently as she huffed, clearly not happy but somewhat accepting of the offer.

"with ice cream?" "with ice cream." "that vanilla bean ice cream in the blue container?" "yes lessi, i will make sure to buy that exact ice cream just for you."

"you're going to bake brownies from scratch?" leah snickered, lifting your shared girlfriends legs and settling herself onto the sofa, alessia digging her heels into leahs thigh mumbling about a foot massage, making the defender roll her eyes but oblige none the less.

"yes i am. are you going to try and tell me i can't? little miss 'childrens menu'." you narrowed your eyes skeptically, feeling alessia chuckle lightly before leah squeezed her foot too hard and her head popped up to shoot her a glare.

"well babe i think we all remember the last time you tried to bake. i, at least, can admit that i am not a good cook. which is why i'm dating one and a half of them!" leah grinned, quickly assuring the grumpy striker that she was the one and you were the half.

"half!" you protested, a little pinch to your thigh meaning you resumed scratching alessia's back where you'd paused momentarily, glaring daggers at the other girl a few cushions down.

"you do your best baby, and your best is good. but maybe you could just buy some brownies? that little cafe leah loves does them with the chocolate chips, we can grab a coffee and then heat them up later after the game." alessia mumbled into your chest, patting your thigh in an attempt to show support.

"do you both really think i'm that incapable of making brownies?" you asked in disbelief, the silence in response practically deafening. "wow! well the truth comes out." you scoffed in offense, both blondes heads snapping toward you as you attempted to wiggle out from alessias grip.

"no come on love don't be like that! baking just isn't for everyone. same as football isn't for everyone or maths isn't for everyone, its fine!" alessia held on tightly, tugging you back down and shuffling her body to lay on you more as you crossed your arms.

"everyone has their own special skill set baby girl, yours just doesn't include baking. more like...burning? hey i bet if we were ever stranded on a desert island you'd be able to get a fire going!" leah was clearly trying to be on the same supportive track as your other girlfriend but failing miserably as even alessia cringed at the attempt.

"no baby she didn't mean that don't-" but this time you managed to pull yourself free and roll out from beneath alessia, shooting up to your feet and taking turns glaring at the two blondes still laid up on the sofa.

"tomorrow i will not be coming to your game. i am going to spend the afternoon here baking and you will both come home to the best fucking brownies you've ever tasted-no actually the best vegan brownies you've ever tasted because i am that confident that i can do it. even without dairy!" you announced, stomping off to go sulk by yourself and look up some recipes.

"wait but babe you're still going to get regular ice cream right? not vegan ice cream? right? babe!"

~

you'd been so confident, you really had, which had made the fall from grace and back into reality a difficult one.

the reality that your girlfriends doubts weren't so far fetched and you might not actually be capable of baking, all the more prickly an acceptance to swallow.

which is what had lead to this disgustingly sneaky switch, the evidence of your previous three attempts scattered strategically around the kitchen for your lovers to see, and the evidence of the store bought brownies you'd rushed out to buy instead well hidden at the very bottom of the trash bins.

you'd just taken them out of the microwave to warm them up, very carefully stacking them up on a plate when you heard alessia's car in the driveway, leah playing passenger princess today.

they'd done their best this morning to grovel and sweet talk and try their very hardest to change your mind about coming to the game but you were stubborn by nature and once it was made up there wasn't much to be done to change it.

so they'd trudged off to the match like kicked puppies and you'd spent your afternoon burning chocolate and yelling at the oven trying to shift the blame before inevitably accepting your fate.

however you'd made such a fuss and a point both last night and this morning about your abilities that you may have accepted your fate, but you had no intent on letting your girlfriends do the same, the art of deception hopefully saving you the further embarrassment of eating your words with an audience.

"you did it!" alessias eyes lit up as she entered the kitchen first, hair damp and scraped up into a bun. "congratulations on the hat trick baby." you smiled, pecking her lips a few times before her loving gaze dropped down to the sweet treats on the counter.

"i think she plays better on her period." leah mused as she wandered in, the younger blonde shooting her a dirty look in response as leah kissed her cheek apologetically and wrapped you in a hug.

"you're so much prettier when you don't talk." you teased, squeezing her face in your hand with a wink as leah pulled a face and blew a raspberry on your cheek.

"less!" you laughed, turning around a few seconds later and already finding the striker with a mouthful of brownie, crumbs down the front of her hoodie and a blissed out look on her face.

"what? i was promised these!" she defended still with a mouthful of food making you wince and push her lightly. "yes you were babe and you more than earned them." you chuckled, leah reaching around you to take one for herself.

"babe there's no way these are vegan!" the milton keynes local scoffed after a mere sniff causing your eyes to roll as she took a cautious bite. "are too." you gestured your arms around to the plethora of substitutes piled around the kitchen as leah hummed skeptically.

"just tell her she did a good job, shut up, and stuff your face with chocolate leah." alessia defended, hugging you from behind as you smiled gratefully and kissed her jaw, pushing away from her as she shoved the other half of the baked good into her mouth and sent crumbs showering down on you.

"well i need a quick shower but ice creams in the freezer-" you kissed alessia's cheek since her lips were preoccupied making out with a brownie.

"-whipped creams in the fridge." you pecked leahs lips knowingly. "oi!" the defender grabbed at you as your hand collected with her ass with a wink, escaping to the bathroom for a shower and leaving them to their brownies.

which may have been a mistake.

when you returned it was to a welcomingly quiet living room, both of your blondes laid on the lounge watching a film, which judging by the bored look on leahs face and the concentrated one on alessia's, the film had been the strikers choice.

offering them both a cup of tea which was met with a resoundingly quick yes from each you disapeared to the kitchen, not hearing leah get up to follow you much to alessia's grumpy protests at being left alone.

"you know babe i noticed something very interesting about your brownies." leah hummed causing you to jump a little not having thought anyone was with you, flicking the kettle on to boil and raising an eyebrow at her questioningly.

"well you know i love a good jigsaw, yeah?" leah questioned, grabbing the plate of brownies which was remarkably untouched given alessia's desire to inhale the lot of them just moments before you ducked off for a shower.

"but with a jigsaw, all the pieces...have to match up." leah nodded down as your eyes dropped, leah having lined up the brownies which sure enough weren't even close to matching up together the way they would if you'd baked them in the tray you'd claimed to.

"well thats because-" "oh no no my girl, i wasn't asking." leah interrupted with a shake of her head and a finger pressed to your lips. "i know you didn't bake those, and they sure as shit aren't vegan." leah smirked knowingly, pulling your body closer into hers as she leaned down, lips ghosting your own as right as you tried to kiss her she pulled away, smirk growing wider as her hands slipped up your hoodie.

"the only question i want the answer to is, how are you going to make it up to us for lying baby?"

[what-even-is-thiss]

I think what Kamala Harris has going for her outside of her politics is that she’s 59 which is a pretty normal age for a president and her husband and step kids are fairly likable and successful.

She may want to get a pet if she doesn’t have one already. The American people like when the President has a pet.

This all sounds silly for me to bring up but in the US the president kind of doubles as both a political and spiritual (in a sort of secular sense) leader for the country modeling Good American Values. First Ladies and presidents’ children have historically had a lot of influence on a president’s historical reputation as a whole and on American society.

Her fairly likable family I think was a small but important part of her campaign a vice president, her step daughter even volunteering in the campaign.

Her situation as a mixed race woman married to a Jewish man might make her appealing to some voters. She’s a step parent, kind of has wine mom energy, and has a safe looking little family. And her husband Douglas Emhoff has made his thing as Second Gentleman fighting antisemitism which is something a lot of people care about.

And before any of you start going off about how a politician’s personal life shouldn’t matter, no duh. The politics should be the important thing. But having a likable family can get you far in American politics. It’s why politicians get their spouses involved in their campaigns so much. Being the spouse of a politician is almost always a full time job. It’s something to think about when trying to sell a politician to certain people.

People like my grandmother especially. She puts a lot of importance in her mind on the likability of a politician’s family, including the fashion sense of their spouse and if they own a small dog. She really likes politicians who own small dogs. Which is why I think that Harris should get a pet if she doesn’t have one. A lot and I mean a lot of people like keeping up with the lives of famous pets.

A big mistake that Trump made was he didn’t have any pets. He refused. People around him kept telling him to try and get a pet to make him more likable and he just didn’t. And for a lot of people the only thing they liked about Mike Pence was his rabbit. There was a whole last week tonight bit about it. Details like that matter whether we like it or not and I think that Harris is potentially in a good position to sell herself to several different kinds of demographics. If she gets a dog. If she has a dog she needs to put it in front of cameras more often because I’ve found no record of her having one.

[jaehaeryshater]

Gilly, Ygritte, and Monster in Winterfell

art by @shebsart, commissioned by me

Shebsart came through once again guys!!! I’m so excited ^_^

For about a year and a half, since I got into ASOIAF, I have admired Shebsart’s work. Their Theon in particular is the closest I’ve ever found to my vision of him, I adore his hooked nose (Asha’s too!). They also have such an amazing Barbrey design and the Starks, including Jon, are amazing. I have paid for some Ygritte commissions before with other artists, and I have liked all three of them, but when it comes to the closest look of what I think of when I imagine her book counterpart is some of Shebsart’s old pieces of her (and Jon). I was looking for someone to draw Gilly and Ygritte and there was nobody whose opinion that I held in higher regard than Shebsart, as they were my favorite ASOIAF artist, so I asked them if they had any recommendations of who had their commissions open. They told me they actually considering opening their commissions and I have been working with them ever since, even though as far as I know they have not formally opened commissions. Shebsart has been really great to work with and patient, even though there’s been some trouble with payment barriers since we live in very different parts of the world. They’ve been professional and worked hard.

I have long imagined the possibility of Gilly and Ygritte as friends; I thought it was high time I got it depicted in some way. I think it would really benefit Gilly if she had some female influences that weren’t family members. Of course, she does receive this to some extent, but I think it would be very interesting for her to find companionship with a girl around her age that shared the general Freefolk culture, although of course her upbringing was wildly different than Ygritte’s. We know that Ygritte has some sort of soft spot for young children, or at least some sort of moral code that keeps her from killing them. This is one trait shown in both the books and the show. In the show, while I don’t consider anything that happened to it as canon, she specifically spared Gilly and Monster knowing that the others around her would not. I don’t think it would be much of a stretch that Ygritte would grow attached to Monster and have a soft spot there, even though we know she hates incest and would therefore consider his conception an abomination. Everyone in ASOIAF is misogynistic to some extent and some of the things Ygritte says about women are toxic, but I would like to think she wouldn’t victim blame Gilly or call her a whore as Stannis did. I definitely see Ygritte as a strong woman who would want to protect and stand up for someone like Gilly. And Gilly has great compassion and is all around a good person, so I think a friendship would be good for the both of them.

In the depiction above, Ygritte is Queen in the North, consort to Jon. This fits in the same AU as my previous Jon and Ygritte commission by shripscapi. I’ve said this many times, I respect people who hate Jon x Ygritte and they have very valid reasons, but knowing Jon’s character, as long as Ygritte lives, which she would have in this AU as the Battle of Castle Black does not happen, there’s no other choice in Jon’s mind for consort for him as King Beyond the Wall. For the timeline of this art, Jon was first crowned King Beyond the Wall and he went South with his people to get away from and prepare to battle the Others, seeking help from other rulers. His men battle the Boltons and because neither Rickon or Bran have been found yet, he is declared King in the North as well for the time being. His residence is temporarily taken up in Winterfell and the Freefolk settle nearby in close quarters. Jon goes towards the Vale as he’s heard word about Sansa, but Ygritte stays behind with some of the Freefolk. This is when Gilly is her lady-in-waiting. I wanted to show that Ygritte’s clothes are nicer than Gilly’s, but I still wanted both outfits to be respectable. I wanted the fashion to be reasonable for a Northern climate, so that meant furs. Besides, they are both Freefolk and furs mean a lot to them culturally. I sent references for clothing and Shebsart went from there. Some people say Ygritte would never wear a dress but I disagree if it was comfortable enough and she was able to boss people around and be smug, I think she’d wear it as long as it was advantageous for her. And besides, I imagine that Jon designed the dress herself and that’s flattering enough for her to like it. What I did like to show is that Gilly is taking more towards traditional “ladylike” activities like embroidery, while Ygritte isn’t interested. She’d rather sit around and talk and laugh.

Oh, and isn’t baby Monster precious????

Edit: I’ve seen someone say they think Ygritte would hate her life if this is what it was like, and I’m not mad at it or anything, but I don’t agree!!! To clarify more about this AU, Jon becomes King Beyond the Wall because the Freefolk believe that only someone with Stark blood would be able to negotiate with the Others, so they’d be doomed without him. So therefore it’s not just about her feelings for Jon, she’s married to the person she believes will be able to save her people. The influence she has on him is also major and a source of pride for her. In the art above, she is living in Winterfell and yes she’s wearing a dress, but that isn’t her life forever. The reason she stays and doesn’t go with Jon to the Vale is not because she’s a woman and he refuses to let her fight, but because in the main timeline she has a child already (this art has a bit of a fudged timeline, if I were to write a fic on this idea she’d already have had a child before they breached the Wall) and if Jon were to die, the child still has Stark blood and would still be the only hope against the Others. If she had been South and had died with Jon (Jon doesn’t die at this point, but the prospect is why she stays behind), the child would have a regent with their own motivations and wouldn’t have its interests at heart like Ygritte would. This is an important role that I do think at the end of the day, despite Ygritte not being the smartest person, she would take pride and be protective over. It’s not simply that motherhood has changed her and is a role that took over her previous personality, because that’s not true. It’s that there are greater things at play and she’s a key part of protecting the source of the realm’s salvation, so to say. She doesn’t live at Winterfell forever and when at Winterfell, she does boss around some Lords but doesn’t do any chores that she would find tedious. The most she does is sew together a wolf plushie for her child, which was incredibly poorly done. When Bran and Rickon are eventually found and thus Jon doesn’t have the title of Winterfell, they settle in lands previously ruled by the Umbers and she doesn’t wear a dress anymore, I have another commission by shripscapi that shows her usual attire but it is furs, she does hunt, she teaches her children to hunt and falconry. Her traditions are not stomped out in favor of Southron traditions. Her home is not a castle, but a small home slightly more impressive than the huts of the rest of her people, inspired by architecture during the Norman invasion. All in all, she’s really happy. The most important thing to her is that her people are safe, the Others are going to be defeated, and they’ve gotten past the Wall, a goal of her people for a long time. I guess I’ve just had a different view of Ygritte and the Freefolk than majority opinion. I think the Freefolk are more adaptable than people in the South generally are, and it’s impressive how they rallied together despite their differences when faced with the Others. I don’t think the Seven Kingdoms would be able to do that. So I feel as if she, as well as most of her people, would be very happy and feel a sense of accomplishment for being able to live on and live among people that, before the threat of the Others, would never be able to tolerate them and vice versa.

[val-of-the-north]

The "Hornsent deserved it" sentiments make me lose my goddamn mind

Short answer: No they didn't.

Long answer: Oh my gooooooooooood can we NOT do this shit, please???

There are two underlying sentiments to this line of thinking.

The Hornsent hurt Marika's people, thus Marika did nothing wrong, therefore they deserved to die badly

The Hornsent hurt Marika's people + Midra and some others, Marika is still evil, but the Hornsent deserved to be destroyed

Both may even come to the extreme of "Messmer wasn't cruel enough" or some other nonsense in the same vein.

-

Number 1

To tackle number one, we need to remember a little thing called Elden Ring's base game. The Hornsent's jar ritual is undoubtedly abhorrent, that much is true. But I urge you to remember the things that happened during Marika's reign. She:

Murdered all of the Fire Giants but one, subjecting him to a fate similar to hers but worse, forced into labor confined on the mountain among the remains of his people and culture. She mocked him, to boot. All of this because they might have burnt the Erdtree.

Enslaved the Misbegotten from birth "or worse" because their species just so happened to have made contact with the Crucible.

Rewarded her own loyal Crucible Knights with scorn because of it too, as they didn't fit her current society that they fought to establish.

Made sure the Albinaurics were seen as lesser just because they were graceless, which influenced the way they were treated. She even had her Inquisition, run by Rykard, torture them in needlessly cruel manners, as they appear to be their main victims.

Just in general, she allowed Rykard to run a sadistic Inquisition to torture heretics to the Golden Order in the first place, and she saw nothing wrong with it or their practices.

She entombed the entire Great Caravan over a false rumor, which is the sole reason why the Flame of Frenzy was even a problem during her reign. This has also scarred the remainder of their people greatly.

Made the lives of all Omen a living hell either by cutting their horns just as they were born which often kills them, hunting them down in as cruel a way as possible by using their trauma and body parts against them, or throwing them in a sewer to fester with evil spirits hidden from view. She also used to shackle them, including her two children, just to make extra sure they wouldn't crawl out.

Shunned anyone who saw a vision of the Erdtree burning, regardless of who it was, and chased them away from their homes.

Literally allowed the belief that shorter people are somehow lesser, for apparently no reason at all (her most random discrimination decision tbh). This forces them to band together and take up honorless jobs just to get by, and in turn, people start to spread rumors of their inhuman practices, which are likely all untrue.

Had people literally work as slaves for the nobility just by virtue of "being born into obscurity", whatever that means. As well as other accounts of slavery like the Fallen Hawks (likely tied to the defeated soldiers of ancient Stormveil).

Likely endorsed viewing anyone without Grace as inferior beings, which includes the Tarnished that only exist because she divested them of it. She has done nothing to ease their discrimination (despite potentially seeing them as a future asset of sorts), as even the members of the Crusade are more than ready to kill us, like Fire Knight Queelign.

All of this was done in service to HER religion and order. Killing all the Fire Giants and burying the Nomadic Merchants alive? Oh, they could have ruined her age with those pesky flames of theirs.

Systematically oppressing Omen, Misbegotten, Albinaurics and the likes? Oh, they are impure creatures, unlike her people, blessed with the Grace of Gold, elevated from the rest. (Which is the exact same line of thinking as the Hornsent and their horns for crying out loud).

"Oh but the Hornsent stuffed her people into jars" yeah, and I am not arguing the contrary! It was a cruel, deranged practice, born of simple superstition that their victims would be reborn as "good people". But Marika's answer if you don't fit her vision of the world is to either get rid of you and your people through extermination, by literally hounding you from your rightful home, or by enslaving you.

Both sides are genuinely awful... but there's only one side that people are justifying, and it sure as hell isn't the Hornsent.

Marika's backstory is meant to make her less a god, which is all we have ever known her to be before the DLC, and more a human, which is what she once was. It gives her complexity as a character, it's meant to be the catalyst from which we learn why she took the path that she took. It is absolutely not meant to make us go "holy shit guys, Marika was the good guy all along???", because what she brought upon this world through her burning desire for vengeance has ruined it irreparably, and ruined the lives of most of the creatures who inhabit it.

This includes her ruthless, honorless, pointless Crusade against the Hornsent. Sure, it was her own son that started it, but it was for her sake. It was her who allowed him to wage it, he had her full support... until the thing turned to such a slaughter-fest that even she could not associate with it anymore due to how appalling it all was. And what better way to do that than to seal her own son away to wage war endlessly? And not just because his actions made her look bad, but also for the same crippling fear and prejudice that saw her kill all Fire Giants but one and scar the Great Caravan.

Gratuitous violence across the board, and for what?

(I want to make it absolutely clear that I don't mean you can't like Marika now. In fact, I'd say the DLC made her much more of an interesting character to me as well. I just cannot fathom seeing the entirety of Elden Ring and coming out thinking "wow Marika was the good guy" because she isn't. Heck, coming out thinking that she'd be disgusted with what her grandson Godrick is doing with grafting as if she isn't the queen of having zero empathy for those who are graceless or aren't her family, which the Tarnished he grafts are neither. She'd probably be very proud if anything. Marika is a monster. She became one the moment she obtained godhood, because no milestone would quell her. She did all the wrongs, so take this whole section as a refresher in case you had forgotten)

-

Number 2

Now, to tackle number 2... this one seemingly has more nuance, but falls for the tried and true pitfall of "the many must pay for the crimes of the few" which is exactly where it rots and collapses onto itself.

Apparently, because of the perpetrators of the Jar Rituals, ALL Hornsent, INDISCRIMINATELY, deserve to be destroyed. They all, each and every single one, deserve the Crusade and the absolute pointless ruin that it brought them. From the children, to the ones who were friends with people with no horns, to the ones who found their own practices grotesque, to the ones that weren't even tied to the Tower's religion and were just simply living their lives.

They ALL, EQUALLY deserve to be burned, to have their cities destroyed, to have their lives ruined. All of them. Ok.

Number 2 works with the assumption that the Hornsent are some sort of hive mind. Some sort of all-encompassing religious order who believes in their superiority. But that's just the Tower's religion. Hornsent are a people. And people are individuals, with their own opinions, their own lives. In fact, from the perspective of the average Hornsent citizen, they were attacked out of nowhere as they were living in peace, which likely means they weren't even at war with Marika before this event.

People also have the assumption that all of the Hornsent were benefiting from their society, which is blatantly false. In fact, outside the treatment of the Shamans, the people that we know the Hornsent have hurt the most are their fellow Hornsent. We know of quite a few of them suffering at the hands of their kin BECAUSE of their religious and cultural practices.

Being Hornsent isn't a "free from mistreatment" card. If anything, the large Gaols where they were imprisoned were built specifically to house them. The main prisoners we find in large numbers are commoners, the same types as the ones scavenging the ruins of their ravaged towns. They are often seen eating maggots off the floor and cowering in fear. All of them were Hornsent too, locked away for who knows what crime. Could have been big and important, small and insignificant, or even just a failure to do something properly (there's precedent), point is, it's clear the Hornsent weren't having a good time in there.

The jar rituals were used mainly as punishment for the imprisoned Hornsent themselves, as a way to have them become "good people". This was just as horrifying for the Hornsent prisoners as it was for the Shamans I assume. Look how terrified this Hornsent seemed at the prospect of sharing that fate. This is the reason why they chopped up Shamans in the first place, as ritual ingredients for a punishment meant primarily for their kin.

And there were more Hornsent who suffered because of the leading ideology. Curseblades were once shunned because they failed to become tutelary deities, and so they were thrown in the Jar Gaols. They were only let out so they could use their expertise and flowing movements to defend their homeland when Messmer invaded, otherwise they'd be rotting with the Innard Shamans and the other Hornsent prisoners the way Labirith is.

It's also worth pointing out that Midra's Mense was filled with Hornsent attendants who sided with their sagely master regardless of his lack of horns and what the Inquisition believed of him. If we were to operate with reasoning number 2, they too would deserve to be murdered in the Crusade because they just so happened to be Hornsent. Because ALL Hornsent deserve extermination for what happened to the Shamans.

And we also know that the Hornsent can find what happens in Bonny Village revolting. In fact, we know that from someone who was born and raised there.

This sounds nothing like someone who thought any of that was ok. So who is to say other Hornsent weren't like this too, especially those who DIDN'T live in Bonny Village? Those who risked being stuffed into those same jars themselves? We make waaaay too many assumptions about an entire race, and that in itself is foolish enough.

If there's someone to blame, it's the Tower's Inquisition. They are the religious order that governs the Hornsent. They have all the power in their society... and yet, would you look at that? Enir-Ilim, their sanctum, the one place where those calling the shots reside, is completely untouched. And what about Bonny, the most structurally fine Hornsent settlement, when you'd expect it to be a black stain of char by now. But nope, no sign of Messmer activity and the Greater Potentates are just running around naked, doing their thing as usual.

The Crusade isn't even a good tool of vengeance, the only ones suffering are the civilians who were likely the ones with a higher risk of ritual jar punishment anyway. If this isn't proof enough that the Crusade is a completely petty, useless revenge war that accomplishes nothing I don't know what else to say. I'll just leave with what the people taking part in it were taking pride in doing.

These are people who, without a shadow of a doubt, would have chopped up most of the oppressed groups described earlier and stuffed them into jars if Marika had told them to do so. (Heck, something like this was being done to the Albinaurics already, as we have seen previously...)

They have zero moral superiority, their deranged zealotry is the only reason they act in the first place. Not to mention that they have no connection to Marika's struggles or past, nor were they informed of them I bet. It's likely only Messmer truly knows the reason for the Crusade, and that's only because he is her child and shoulders all the blame onto himself.

"Those stripped of the Grace of Gold shall all meet death" is LITERALLY their motto. Do you really think they stopped at the Hornsent? They were just their main target, but judging by the way all of Messmer's soldiers, including Queelign and the other Fire Knights, and even HE HIMSELF, attack us on sight for the simple fact we are Tarnished and lack Grace in our eyes, I have no doubt in my mind these people were just rounding up and killing anyone who didn't conform with the Golden Order.

THESE are the people who should be allowed to play judge, jury and executioner with the entire Hornsent race. And people will genuinely, with a straight face, tell you "That's right".

-

To conclude... I think I actually hate reasoning 2 more than reasoning 1 lol, despite not liking either at all. At least 1 is understandable. Marika is a very interesting character, one that we have known for a few years now. We have an attachment to her, heck, sentiments of her being some sort of misunderstood/rebellious figure were already there before the DLC. In that regard, I understand the emotional response, even though I still think it's a wrong mindset to have. I have at least some hope that it is purely in the realm of fiction because it's a beloved character, nothing more...

Reasoning 2, on the other hand, attempts to be nuanced, or at least pretends to be. In reality, all it peddles is the "an eye for an eye" mentality which is much too common irl as well. Not only that, but it deals in monoliths. All people belonging to a group or race are equally responsible for stuff they didn't even commit, stuff that could have even harmed them, because their leaders decided to commit crimes against another set of people. And don't get me wrong, there will be even commoners from that group or race that will agree with and celebrate that bad deed, but just as many will not, but will be either scared, powerless, already being punished for speaking up through physical violence or elaborate shunning, or currently protesting and doing something to hopefully ignite a change.

But that reasoning only exists to perpetuate cycles; of war, violence, and hate for the most part. And sadly, this mindset is very prevalent, a lot of people fail to see the issue with wanton violence as long as it's to stroke that lust for vengeance. And vengeance is a theme that Elden Ring criticizes multiple times in a row, even beyond the obvious horror of the Crusade.

[nothoughtsjustfic]

Beat My Meat - L.SM

🥩Who: Lee Seokmin (Seventeen) x female reader 🥩What: Friends to lovers. Fluff. Humour. A lil bit of angst. 🥩Word count: 3.3k 🥩Warnings: Really keeping the menace Jeonghan agenda alive. But all of the guys are little shits, even if they’re not all mentioned by name. Suggestive/sexual humour/jokes. Very brief sort of misunderstanding but it’s over quickly! 🥩Summary: As it turns out, the term “beat my meat” does not mean what Seokmin thinks it does.

Masterlist

A/N- This was supposed to be a quick little funny 1k moment, but I got carried away and feelings happened.

You knew this would happen from the moment Seokmin posted that picture yesterday. You knew your friends wouldn’t let either of you live it down, because they’re assholes who think Seokmin’s innocence and your eternal suffering is funny, especially when combined.

You knew the picture, or more specifically the caption, would fuel their teasing and tittering. Yet, you still turned up at Jeonghan’s apartment half an hour ago for the monthly group dinner and hang out.

As soon as you arrived, Jeonghan had given you his typical, infuriatingly smug, teasing smile, which he seems to reserve specifically for teasing you about your crush on the innocently oblivious Seokmin. You had shoved past him before he could say a word, which only made Jeonghan’s stupid grin grow as he cackled amusedly before following you back into his apartment.

Now, here you are, with all 14 of you shoved in the too small kitchen. Most of them are sitting at the table while you help Seokmin plate up the steaks that you had helped him prepare yesterday.

Which is the cause of the current giggling rippling between your shared friends as they keep looking over at the two of you side by side in the kitchen. Whenever you accidentally make eye contact with one of the idiots, they send you dramatically suggestive and borderline obscene expressions.

Really, at this point, you might just be better off getting new friends.

But when you look to your right and see Seokmin so happily going about his business at your side, while treating you all to his beautiful, mindless singing, you know there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

“So!” Jeonghan starts, and by his tone alone, you know the little shit is about to stir the pot. You glare over at him in warning, where he’s perched on Soonyoung’s lap despite there being a spare chair literally beside them. Soonyoung seems more than happy with the affectionate petting of Jeonghan’s hand mindlessly running through the younger’s hair, anyway.

At least one of you is enjoying Jeonghan’s antics.

As per usual, Jeonghan ignores your silent warning and continues to speak, now that he has the whole attention of the room. Including Seokmin, who has stopped singing and is looking over at the host with big, curious eyes. “We saw that picture you posted last night, Seokie.”

“Didn’t she look cute!” Seokmin enthuses, lighting up and glancing at you with a bright smile that you have to look away from, lest you fall prey to the fire breathing butterflies fluttering around your torso and sending heat right to your cheeks.

“Very,” Jeonghan agrees with a hum and an amused smirk. “When are you going to invite her over to beat your meat again?”

Immediately, half of the group break into giggles like a bunch of children. At least they have the decency to not laugh in Seokmin’s face at his genuine innocence regarding the very phrase he used to caption his post last night.

A picture of you in his kitchen, lit by the late afternoon sun spilling in from the window to your left with your cheeks reddened; from both the laughter Seokmin is an expert at pulling out of you, and the effort of preparing so much steak to feed 14 people. Paired with the innocent caption of ‘She’s the best at beating my meat’, well, you can’t really blame your friends for their teasing. But you can blame them for letting this go on for so long.

Seokmin first used the term “beat my meat” a few months ago, to refer to tenderising the meat he planned to cook for dinner, and you had instantly known that your asshole of a friend group had zero intention of correcting his innocent assumption.

Of course, you could’ve corrected him yourself, and you almost have many times, but the thought of telling Seokmin what it really means makes you far too flustered to do more than blush and change your train of thoughts.

Seokmin makes a considering noise as he registers Jeonghan’s question, while putting the last steak onto the plate. Chan takes the large dish over to the table and places it in the space left empty for it, amongst other steaming and delicious dishes.

“I don’t know,” Seokmin starts to answer, wiping his hands on the cloth bundled on the counter. “It’d get boring to do it a lot, and she said her arm hurt after. She deserves a rest,” he says it all so simply, so honestly, and entirely unaware of the utter filth now spinning in your friends’ minds as they fall into each other with laughter. “What’s so funny?” Seokmin asks, pouting confusedly towards the table.

“Ignore them,” Jeonghan dismisses with a flap of his free hand. “She worked hard, did she? To beat your meat?”

Seokmin nods enthusiastically and slings an arm around your shoulders while you continue trying to mentally choke Jeonghan to make him shut the fuck up. “Definitely! She beat it until it was soft!” He looks at you to tap under your chin with his right index finger. “Such a good girl,” he coos playfully.

That’s the last straw for the entire group as the guys howl with laughter and Seokmin’s confused pout returns with a vengeance.

“I-I can’t!” Chan wheezes. “Some-someone tell him!”

“Tell me what?” Seokmin murmurs innocently puzzled.

“That doesn’t mean what you think it does,” Jihoon informs around his sniggers.

“What doesn’t?”

“Beating your meat,” Jihoon just manages to say before cracking up, sputtering his laughter out as he leans over against Seungcheol on his right, who is barely still in his chair he’s laughing so hard.

“It means tenderising meat,” Seokmin says, but all 12 men shake their heads, causing the man to look at you. “It means tenderising meat, right?”

“Please don’t ask me,” you choke out, face red.

“I’ll tell you!” Soonyoung chirps, deciding to play devil’s advocate on Jeonghan’s behalf. Judging by the pleased little grin on the elder’s face, you’re pretty sure this was Jeonghan’s plan from the start and why he chose the easily manipulated Soonyoung to sit on and pet for the past half an hour.

Seokmin turns his attention to Soonyoung with big, imploring eyes.

“It means jerk you off!” Soonyoung announces brightly.

“What?!” Seokmin shrieks in alarm, immediately pulling his arm off of you and stepping aside as his whole face darkens with embarrassment. “Y-you assholes!” he exclaims, pointing at them all vaguely. “You knew and didn’t tell me!”

“It was fucking funny!” Seungcheol chokes out around his laughter; tears rolling down his cheeks from how hard he’s been laughing. The man looks like he’s never heard anything funnier, and if you didn’t know him, you’d think he wouldn’t know funny if it honked his nose and squirted water in his face. But you know the man, so you know he’s just a giant fucking child with the sense of humour of a teenage boy. It’s always the dirty jokes that has him crying with laughter and at this point, you think there’s no hope left for him.

Or any of your friends, once you’re done beating them with Seokmin’s tenderising hammer for creating this truly awfully fucking awkward situation, that is.

“I can’t believe you would let me say stuff like that!” Seokmin continues, looking utterly offended. “How could you even think I would do that to her?!”

Your glare towards your friends drops as your heart breaks at the sheer disgust in Seokmin’s tone. You glance at him and find him staring intently towards the table, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, and it only makes the pain grown.

Hearing your friends’ laughter all rapidly trail off only makes it worse. They all know how you feel about Seokmin; how, at this point, there isn’t anything you wouldn’t do for the man. They know how much hearing him being so appalled at the thought of you touching him in that way will hurt you. As much as you call them assholes, you know they all truly care about you and don’t want you to hurt in any way.

You don’t need to look at them to know none of them have any humour left on their features and are likely growing concerned. You can’t look at them, can’t look at Seokmin, and instead focus down on the island counter in front of you as you grip the cloth that you’ve been using to wipe the side, tight enough that you think it may start to rip under your intense grasp.

“Alright, we made a mistake,” Seungkwan tries to reason and deflate the situation, seeing Seokmin worked up and you getting more upset with every passing moment. “We’re sorry for pranking you and not telling you what it means.”

“You should be!” Seokmin exclaims. “I made a post saying it! What are people going to think about us now?! I don’t want them thinking I invited her over to do that!”

“Okay, okay,” Seungkwan rushes, holding his hands up placatingly as if Seokmin is a wild animal he needs to corner and calm down before he hurts someone. Hurts you, however inadvertently. You all know Seokmin would never intentionally hurt you, but the man is so oblivious of your feelings for him that it’d be so easy to tear you apart.

“No! Not okay! It’s ridiculous!”

“Seok-” Jeonghan tries to interrupt and talk Seokmin down himself, but Seokmin ignores him, barely hears him over how worked up he is.

“I’d never ask her to come over for that! I want to take her on at least three dates first!”

A shocked silence takes over the room, only Seokmin’s slightly elevated breathing to be heard. He’s ever so slightly panting from his ranting and hasn’t quite yet realised what he’s just said. You can only stare at him with wide eyes and your mouth parted in pure disbelief.

It’s clear when the man notices what he’s just accidentally confessed to, as he gasps loudly then abruptly turns to face you with eyes wider than your own and cheeks flaming. “I didn’t mean to say that!” he squeaks.

“Did you mean it?” you whisper. Seokmin flounders, opening and closing his mouth a few times and shuffling his weight from foot to foot, but doesn’t manage to respond to you in any way. “Do you really want to take me on a date?”

“Three!” Seungkwan chirps. You glare over at him for interrupting and notice that all of the men are leaning closer with eyes glued to the pair of you like you’re their favourite source of entertainment. At this point, after the months of pining, you probably are.

Without a word, you grab Seokmin’s hand and lead him out of the kitchen and down to the spare bedroom, while your friends holler and whistle at your backs, making you both blush at their suggestive remarks.

“Sorry, I just…want to talk,” you explain once the bedroom door is shut and you’re standing and facing one another in the middle of the floor, a safe distance from the door. You really don’t trust your friends not to eavesdrop and will genuinely be surprised if they respect your privacy at this point in your friendship.

“I’m sorry,” Seokmin says, flexing his hands at his sides nervously before shoving them in the back pockets of his jeans in tight fists.

“No, no, don’t,” you insist, shaking your head a little while taking a half step closer. Seokmin eyes your feet, tries to decipher what it means for you to get closer right now, before he lifts his eyes to you, peering at you almost through his lashes. “Just please answer truthfully, Seok; did you mean it? Do you really want to take me on a date?”

“I don’t want to make things awkward.”

“It’ll be awkward if you don’t answer,” you reason.

Seokmin stares at you for a long second then lets out a breath so heavy he deflates a few inches as he diverts his gaze back to the floor. He nods as he speaks a little reluctantly, voice lower than normal and a lot quieter, “Yeah, I mean it.”

You can’t help the smile that spreads over your face and lights up your whole being. Your hands clasp together in front of your chest and your joy lifts you momentarily up onto your tiptoes.

But Seokmin doesn’t notice. He’s too busy slumping further under his raincloud to see your sunshine.

It’s funny that’s he’s not the bright one right now. You think it’s the first time that you’ve ever shone brighter than him and it feels so wrong. You need to fix it, and quickly.

“I bought tickets for that game you want to see,” you blurt, making him look at you bewilderedly.

“Game?”

“Yeah. The baseball game next week.”

“What?” he baulks at you in surprise. “That was sold out, how?!”

“I have my ways,” you respond slyly before giggling. For the first time, you notice the way he melts at the sound. “And well, I was going to give them to Kwan like usual to take you, but-”

“Wait, what do you mean ‘like usual’? Kwan is a sports journalist; he gets given the tickets,” he says perplexed.

“No, not for the team you support,” you admit with a shy smile. “They’re your favourite team and I know it makes you happy, so I’ve always wanted you to go to as many as their games as possible.”

“But…those tickets are so expensive; you can’t spend that money on me!” he argues, shaking his head rapidly and seeming to forget the reason you’re even in the bedroom and no longer with your friends.

“I knew you’d argue, which is why I always had Seungkwan take you and say he was given them,” you explain with a little shrug. “Sorry for lying to you for so long. I just… I just want you happy, Seok.”

“Oh,” he says on a thick exhale, posture deflating again but this time, he doesn’t look sad. His expression softens out and finally, he’s remembering why you’re here and understanding where you were trying to take this topic before he interrupted with his confusion and concern over your financial habit where he��s concerned. “I’d be even happier if you went with me.”

“I think I can keep up with the rules,” you say, making his face begin to lift into a smile. “But maybe, before the match, you can come over and we can watch some old ones, so you can explain it to me? We can get takeout and snacks. If you’re okay with our first date being a home date?”

“I’d be happy to just sit and stare at you in a park for three hours and call it a date,” he admits, kind of dumbly, but he’s smiling so genuinely that you can’t help but giggle. “Especially if you giggle like that. You won me over with that giggle, you know? First time I heard it I was convinced you stole my heart,” he confesses and finally moves closer. Close enough that he can reach out and shyly take your hands into his.

“Do you want it back?” you wonder as you pull his hands more securely into yours and lace your fingers together.

“I trust you with it,” he assures and takes a half step closer, which you mirror, putting your socked feet pretty much toe-to-toe. “Do you think you’ll trust me with yours one day too? I promise I’ll look after it.”

“Seok, you’ve had it for so long already,” you admit.

“I have?” You nod and he tilts closer naturally, drawn in by your adoring gaze locked on him and reflected in his round, attentive gaze on you. “I like you so fucking much. It’s been driving me crazy keeping it to myself.”

“I feel the same way.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, you drive me crazy too,” you joke, making him let out an amused scoff as he rolls his eyes. You giggle and squeeze his hands to gain his gaze back. “You do drive me crazy, but it’s in a good way. I think I’d go crazier without you by my side at this point.”

“Me too and now I know that; you’re never getting rid of me. I hope you can accept the consequences of your words.”

“Depends.”

“On?” He raises a questioning eyebrow at you.

“I can accept waiting until at least the third date if you really want to, at least for that. But I’d really like to kiss you now if-” before you can even finish talking and get his verbal consent, Seokmin gives it to you by surging in and pressing his lips against yours enthusiastically. You giggle against his lips and pull back the slightest hint to allow you to actually kiss him instead of smushing your lips together like he had in his excitement.

Now that you’ve taken charge, the kiss is nothing but tender, so sweet, and exactly how you always imagined kissing Seokmin would be.

A sudden bang on the door makes you both jump and pull apart. You hear your friends scrambling away on the other side and berating Mingyu for falling into the door as he whines and blames Seungkwan for suddenly jumping on his back.

“Guess we should get back and give them the exciting news that we’re dating now!” Seokmin enthuses, letting go of you with one hand so that he can excitedly lead you to the door, more than ready to share the news with your friends before they come crashing through the door during their next attempt at eavesdropping.

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to not enjoy your meat I spent so long beating yesterday either,” you tease.

Seokmin immediately stops and turns to look at you with a whine and big, innocent eyes, matched with a pout. A true puppy-dog look. “Don’t tease me. You’re my girlfriend now; that means you’re supposed to be nice to me,” he complains.

“Oh, girlfriend?” you respond, a little surprised.

“Yeah, we’re dating,” he confirms.

“I thought that just meant going on dates, not in an exclusive relationship.”

“Oh,” his expression turns nervous. “Is-is that what you want? Just to date me? I can wait to be your boyfriend when you’re ready. I’ve been waiting ages already to get the courage to ask you out, so I can wait until you want me.”

“I want you now,” you assure.

“Oh, good,” he relaxes and smiles at you before leaning over to kiss you once more.

“Not in my guest room!” Jeonghan exclaims from the other side of the door, less than a metre from you two, making you jump at his sudden yell. You hadn’t even heard him return to the door, but maybe he just hadn’t left in the first place. He’s shameless enough to keep eavesdropping even once caught, so it wouldn’t surprise you.

“We’re not!” Seokmin squeaks and yanks open the door to give Jeonghan a scandalised look. “I told you we’re not doing anything like that yet!”

“Oh, so that euphemism you understood,” Jeonghan muses with a snicker, then glances down at your connected hands. “Finally,” he approves with a nod before turning and walking off. “They finally sorted their shit out and got together!” he yells as he nears the kitchen.

It makes you and Seokmin both smile a little dopily to hear your friends cheering and sounding so genuinely happy for you both.

“You know the teasing is going to get more obvious and intense from now on, right?” you comment.

“Yep. But I can handle it when it means I have you by my side,” Seokmin responds confidently and lifts your hand to kiss the back of it, making your heart flutter and cheeks to warm. “Ready to face it?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

Side by side, you return to the kitchen, knowing that as soon as you step into the room, you’re going to be met with playful jeering and endless suggestive comments from here on out. But you think Seokmin is right; you can handle it all as long as he’s by your side.

Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie, @svtiddiess, @codeinebelle

[mrsonmyr]

family skate | s.crosby

summary: you bring your kids to skate with Sid

pairing: sidney crosby x female reader

word count: 1.2k

Two small children in oversized 87 jerseys sprinted down to the glass, their tiny hands pressing eagerly against it as they peered onto the ice.

“Daddy!” they called in unison, their voices muffled by the roar of the rink.

Sidney skated by, immediately pivoting back when he heard them. Stopping in front of them, he grinned. “Hey, guys. You having fun?”

“Daddy, look!” Olivia spun around excitedly, showing off her Crosby 87 jersey that nearly swallowed her small frame.

“Hey, that’s my name!” Sidney teased.

“No, it’s my name!” she shot back with a triumphant smile.

“Mommy says it’s our name,” Patrick added matter-of-factly. At six years old, he was both sweet and protective, always keeping an eye on Olivia, who had a knack for getting into trouble.

Sid chuckled. “You’re right, Pat. It is our name. Where’s Mommy?” He glanced around the stands, searching for you.

“She said she was going to talk to someone,” Olivia answered, twisting around as if she might spot you.

As much as the kids had Sidney wrapped around their fingers, they were undeniably Mommy’s little angels. Patrick was a full-on mama’s boy, always seeking your approval, always wanting snuggles. Olivia, on the other hand, was a perfect mix—equal parts Daddy’s girl and Mommy’s shadow. Spending her days at home with you while Patrick was at school, she relished having your attention all to herself.

“Daddy, can Binky come on the ice with me?” Olivia held up her well-loved teddy bear, its fur slightly ragged from years of constant companionship. You and Sidney had been trying to ease her separation anxiety with it, but she clung to Binky as if leaving him behind would be some sort of betrayal.

“I don’t know,” Sid mused, kneeling in front of the glass. “Does he have skates?”

“Livvy, you can’t bring him everywhere,” Patrick interjected, his big-brother instincts kicking in. “What are you gonna do next year when you can’t bring him to school?”

Patrick, now in first grade, took his new role as an older kid very seriously. Though he secretly wished he could still bring his stuffed animals to school, he knew the other boys would never let him hear the end of it. Still, he’d noticed the older kids seemed to give him a lot of attention—especially when his dad was the one dropping him off or picking him up.

“Binky doesn’t need skates,” Olivia declared confidently. “I’ll hold him.”

After retiring from the NHL, Sidney poured his focus into raising his family and working with young players, coaching peewee hockey and leading the Little Penguins program in Cole Harbour. That, of course, included teaching his own kids how to skate.

Patrick took to the ice naturally, skating with confidence and already mastering his stick handling. Olivia, on the other hand, required a bit more persuasion. She loved skating, but only if there was a reward waiting at the end—like a donut from Tim Hortons on the way home.

The buzzer rang, signaling the end of morning practice, which meant one thing: family skate time. As the teenage players exited the ice, Sid spotted you making your way down toward the rink.

“Hi, Mama,” he greeted, stepping off the ice and onto the bench.

“Hi, baby.” You reached up, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. He was still a little sweaty from practice, but you didn’t mind—you’d always loved him like this.

“Is it your turn to skate?” you asked the kids, watching as they practically vibrated with excitement.

They nodded eagerly, and Sidney grinned. “Alright, let’s get you two geared up.”

In the locker room, Patrick was quick to get his gear on by himself, while Sidney helped Olivia with her shin pads and pants. Though Patrick could tie his skates on his own, he still preferred when Sid did it.

“Are you guys ready?” Sid asked, giving both laces a final tug.

Patrick nodded, his brown eyes peering up at you from beneath his helmet’s cage. “Mommy, are you gonna skate with us, too?”

You smiled, stroking his gloved hand. “Mommy’s gonna watch from the bench and take pictures.”

Olivia held out Binky. “Mommy, will you hold him? I don’t want him to get cold.”

“Of course,” you assured her, taking the teddy and cradling it in your lap. “I’ll keep him safe, and we’ll watch you skate with Daddy.”

Before having kids, you’d loved your one-on-one ice time with Sidney. Even though you weren’t the strongest skater, he’d always held your hand, keeping you steady, keeping you safe. Now, your favorite thing in the world was watching your kids skate with him—seeing the pure joy it brought to your husband’s face.

Life had changed so much since becoming parents. Date nights out had turned into quiet nights in once the kids were asleep. Traveling alone had become harder, knowing how much the kids hated seeing you leave. On your last anniversary, Sidney had surprised you with a weekend getaway to Montreal. As much as you’d enjoyed your time together, you’d spent half the trip missing the kids.

“I wonder what they’re doing right now,” Sid had mused, sliding into bed beside you.

“We can’t call them—it’s past their bedtime,” you had sighed, though your eyes betrayed how much you wanted to.

The last time you’d called them while away, they’d both ended up in tears, begging to know when you’d be home. The guilt had been unbearable. That night, you had cried in Sid’s arms, telling him you never wanted to travel without them again. Eventually, you both agreed—short weekend getaways only, and no phone calls unless it was an emergency.

Now, sitting on the bench, you watched as Patrick skated down the ice, expertly maneuvering the puck toward the net. A few feet away, Sid was bent low, skating backwards, his hands stretched out for Olivia to grab if she lost her balance. You smiled to yourself, pulling out your phone to capture the moment. One day, when the kids were older—when they’d rather be with their friends than at the rink with their parents—you knew you’d cherish these memories even more.

After a few minutes, Olivia skated over to the bench, and you lifted her onto your lap, undoing her helmet.

“Daddy says I did so good, he’s gonna get me a Timbit on the way home.”

You laughed, kissing her forehead. “Sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”

[alpaca-clouds]

I really, really wish that anthropology was a part of general education - and be it just because I wanna bang my head against the wall given the big lacks in anthropological knowledge people show when talking about all sorts of issues. Both in terms of cultural anthropology, and biological anthropology.

No, a matriarchy is not "like a patriarchy, but the other way around". Because the patriarchy has developed the way it did with the goal to ensure the patrilinear inheritance - which only works when women only sleep with one men. As matriarchies usually are concerned with matrilinear inheritence, they tend to not control men anywhere near as much as patriarchy controls women, because a mother generally will know which children were born by her. So what if her husband fools around with other women? It does not matter in a matriarchy.

Yes, matriarchies existed all around the world. Yes, they even did so fairly recently. Main reason for them not existing in any notable degree today is colonialism. While, yes, there were way more patriarchies than matriarchies that we are aware of, the usual thought is that this goes back to the first point. Due to matriarchies being low control, and patriarchies being high control, matriarchies can divert into patriarchies more easily than the other way around.

Yes, queer people - including trans people and third (as well as forth and fifth and sixth and so on) genders - were around for as long as we are aware off. So at least for 5000 years. But it stands to reason longer, especially as we absolutely did uncover older graves that implied some form of trans person there. Because other than what transphobes claim, archeologists generally will first judge a grave and the gender of the inhabitant by the grave goods included - and often then will later go surprised Pikachu, when they further look into the skeleton and find it not lining up with the presumed sex.

And also, yes, pretty much all homo sapiens have mammory glands and technically are capable of feeding infants. No matter the sex. Yes, it happens that afab people in general will a) produce milk after giving birth due to natural processes, and b) have more developed mammory glands than amab people, meaning they can more efficiently nurse a child. Doesn't mean amab people cannot do it at all. And of course, in general: trans men giving birth can, if they did not have the glands removed during top surgery. Also: always remember that more then enough cis women struggle to nurse their child and always have. There is a reason wetnurses existed.

And yes, this is very much about some hot "feminist" takes I have read. Like, girls, the least you could do for your feminism is read some actual books on history, before you loudly proclaim wrong information.

[callsigns-haze]

Greatest treasure part 2

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

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

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x reader

English is not my first language

18k words

This will be continued into a part 3

PART 1

14 Years Later

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” she replied without hesitation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nodded sagely. “Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Azer groaned. “No—”

But Avey was already pulling him toward the dance floor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smiled. “She already is.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Azer groaned. "Absolutely not."

She pouted. "But—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Azer let out a short laugh. “Unbelievable.”

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

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

Just them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Azer rolled his eyes but said nothing.

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

“You wouldn’t dare,” he warned.

Avey’s grin widened.

And then—she splashed him.

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It wasn’t a request.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then it hit you.

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

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

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

“I know.” His voice was calm.

-----

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

“Azer! No—no, no, no—”

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

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

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

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

“Azer, NO, I will—”

She never got to finish her threat.

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

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

For a second, there was only silence. Then—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, you will.”

“No, I won’t!”

“Yes, you—”

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

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

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

Azer barked out a laugh. “A goat?”

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

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

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

Then—suddenly—her lips twitched.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

You narrowed your eyes. “Eris.”

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

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

He hesitated. Just for a moment.

Your stomach dropped.

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

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

“Eris!”

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

Your heart kicked. “What happened?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With a groan, he started forward. “If they’re in the godsdamned water…”

You picked up your pace beside him, your heart hammering. “Avey better not be in the lake.”

“She wouldn’t.” But even as Eris said it, you could hear the doubt creeping in.

And then—

“I HATE you, Azer!”

Avey’s furious, tiny voice echoed across the stormy night, followed by Azer’s uncontrollable laughter.

Eris sighed heavily. “I knew I should’ve locked that boy in his room.”

You broke into a run, following the sound of their voices. Eris was right beside you, muttering under his breath about how his son was nothing but a walking headache, though you caught the glimmer of amusement in his tone.

By the time you reached the shore, the sight before you had you stopping dead in your tracks.

Avey stood in the shallows of the lake, drenched from head to toe, her tiny fists clenched at her sides as she glared up at her older brother. Water dripped from her curls, her lower lip wobbling, but her eyes burned with the kind of fury only a little sister could muster.

Azer, standing just out of reach, was still laughing, his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. “Come on, little fox,” he teased, wiping at his eyes. “It wasn’t that bad.”

Avey stomped toward him, slipping slightly in the mud. “You’re the worst, Azer Vanserra!”

Azer grinned. “You’ve said worse.”

“I mean it this time!”

“You always mean it.”

Before she could tackle him, you cleared your throat loudly.

Both children froze.

Slowly, they turned their heads, catching sight of you and Eris standing just beyond the treeline.

Avey’s face paled. Azer’s grin faltered.

Eris crossed his arms. “Would either of you like to explain why my daughter is soaking wet at the edge of the lake in the middle of a storm?”

Silence.

Then—

Azer scratched the back of his head, offering a sheepish smile. “Uh… bonding?”

Eris’s eye twitched.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Azer.”

Avey wasted no time, spinning on her heel and pointing an accusatory finger at her brother. “He dunked me!”

Eris exhaled sharply. “Azer.”

“She wanted to ditch,” Azer defended, raising his hands in surrender. “I just… made it more exciting.”

Avey splashed at him again, glaring daggers. “I hate you.”

Azer only laughed.

Eris ran a hand down his face, looking seconds away from dragging Azer into the lake himself. But before he could, you stepped forward, reaching for your shivering daughter.

“Come here, sweetheart,” you murmured.

Avey sniffled dramatically but rushed into your arms, wrapping her soaked limbs around you. You smoothed a hand down her wet curls, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re freezing.”

She sniffled again, nuzzling into your warmth. “Azer’s mean.”

“I know, baby.” You sent a look at your son. “Azer, you’re mean.”

He placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Wow. Betrayal.”

Eris finally pinched the bridge of his nose. “Both of you, inside. Now.”

Azer groaned. “But—”

“Now.”

Avey smirked as she let you lead her toward the house. “Hah. Loser.”

Azer rolled his eyes but trailed after you, still smirking. “Oh, shut up, little fox.”

Eris fell into step beside you, muttering, “I’m going to strangle that boy one day.”

You chuckled softly. “No, you won’t.”

He sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. “No,” he admitted, glancing at his son. “I won’t.”

By the time you stepped back into the manor, the storm had picked up, the rain lashing against the grand windows. The warmth of the ballroom was a stark contrast to the damp chill clinging to your skin. Avey shivered in your arms, her small hands clutching at your dress, while Azer trailed behind, shaking out his soaked curls like a wet dog.

Eris shot him a look. “Do that again, and I will throw you back outside.”

Azer grinned, completely unbothered. “Worth it.”

Avey, still bundled against you, let out an exaggerated sigh. “Mama, I need a bath. A warm one. With bubbles.”

You kissed her temple, smoothing a hand down her damp curls. “We’ll get you one soon, love.”

Lucien had been standing nearby, talking to Helion and Arlene, but at the sight of the four of you—sopping wet and clearly having just returned from whatever disaster Azer had orchestrated—he made his way over, brow arched.

“I don’t even want to ask,” he muttered, raking his gaze over his dripping niece and nephew.

Eris exhaled sharply, rubbing at his temple. “Then don’t.”

Lucien chuckled. “Azer, what did you do?”

Avey immediately pulled back from your hold, pointing an accusatory finger at her older brother. “He threw me in the lake!”

Lucien turned to Azer, unimpressed. “Really?”

Azer smirked. “She wanted to ditch the ball. I made it fun.”

Avey huffed, crossing her arms. “You threw me!”

Lucien sighed, shaking his head. “You’re lucky your mother’s here to keep your father from strangling you.”

Eris shot his brother a glare. “Don’t tempt me.”

You rolled your eyes, shifting Avey more comfortably in your arms. “Alright, enough. Avey needs to get warm, and I need to get changed before I catch a cold.”

Avey perked up immediately. “Can I have extra bubbles?”

You smiled, brushing a damp curl from her face. “Of course, sweetheart.”

Azer groaned. “She gets extra bubbles, and I get threatened? Unfair.”

Eris turned, eyes sharp. “You dunk your sister in a lake again, and I’ll dunk you.”

Azer only grinned, the picture of unrepentant mischief. “I’d like to see you try, old man.”

Lucien let out a bark of laughter. “You are getting old, brother.”

Eris glared at them both. “Out. All of you. Before I lose my mind.”

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to Avey’s forehead. “Come on, little love. Let’s get you warm.”

As you turned to leave, Azer leaned into his sister with a teasing grin. “Still the best night ever.”

Avey stuck out her tongue. “Hate you.”

Azer just laughed, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “No, you don’t.”

And despite her dramatic grumbling, Avey leaned into her brother’s warmth as you all disappeared up the stairs, leaving the remnants of the storm—and the ball—behind.

-----

Later that night, after the manor had settled into a quiet hum of flickering candlelight and distant laughter, you found yourself standing by the window of your chambers, gazing out at the darkened forest beyond. The rain had finally eased into a soft drizzle, the world outside bathed in silver moonlight.

Eris was behind you, his presence a familiar warmth as he pulled you into him, arms wrapping securely around your waist. His chin rested on your shoulder, his breath fanning over your damp hair.

“They’re in bed,” he murmured, voice laced with exhaustion.

You hummed, tilting your head slightly against his. “Both of them?”

“Avey knocked out in the bath. Azer had to carry her to bed.” His lips brushed just beneath your ear, a smile in his voice. “I think it made up for the whole lake incident.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “He’s lucky she adores him.”

Eris sighed, holding you a little tighter. “He’s lucky we adore him.”

You turned in his arms, meeting his gaze. There was something softer in his expression tonight, something only you ever got to see. The High Lord of Autumn, so ruthless to the rest of the world, so completely undone in the quiet moments he let himself have with you.

“Are you alright?” you asked, brushing your fingers over his cheek.

He exhaled, his hands settling at your hips. “I should be asking you that.”

You raised a brow. “Eris.”

A smirk ghosted over his lips before he shook his head. “I keep thinking about tonight. How different everything is now.” His thumbs traced absentminded circles against your waist. “There was a time when I never thought I’d have this. A family. Peace. You.”

You softened, sliding your hands up to cup his face. “But you do have it, Eris. And you always will.”

His grip tightened as he kissed you, slow and deep, like he was trying to commit the feeling of you to memory. When he pulled back, his eyes burned with something unspoken.

“Stay with me,” he whispered, though you both knew it wasn’t a question.

You smiled, leaning into him. “Always.”

And as the rain faded into nothing, as the world outside stilled, you let him pull you towards the bed, towards the warmth of his touch, towards the life you had built together—one that was yours to keep, always.

Eris’ lips found yours again, slow at first, savouring, but then something shifted—something more playful sparking in his touch. His fingers skimmed along the curve of your waist, featherlight, making you shiver as he deepened the kiss just enough to leave you wanting more.

Then, just as you leaned further into him, he pulled back.

You blinked, dazed, only to see the smirk curling at the corner of his lips. “What—”

Before you could finish, he brushed his lips over yours again, barely a ghost of a touch. And again. And again.

A frustrated sound caught in your throat as you tried to chase his mouth, but he only pulled away, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Patience, darling,” he murmured, voice rich with laughter.

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

Eris chuckled, pressing a kiss just beneath your jaw, his fingers now tracing slow, teasing circles over the small of your back. “And yet, you adore me.”

You huffed, though the warmth pooling in your stomach betrayed you. “That’s debatable.”

He grinned against your skin. “Liar.”

Then, in one smooth motion, he dipped you backward, catching you securely in his arms. A surprised laugh escaped you as you clung to him, the world tilting. His eyes, molten with mischief, locked onto yours.

“I should leave you like this,” he mused, pretending to consider it, “make you ask for it.”

You let out an indignant scoff. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Eris merely hummed, as if the thought truly tempted him. Then, finally, finally, he kissed you properly—deep and slow and claiming. His hand cradled the back of your head, tilting you just the way he liked as he swallowed the breathless sound you made.

By the time he pulled away, you were sure your legs would have given out if not for his hold. He studied you, smug and satisfied, his thumb brushing against your kiss-swollen lips.

“See?” he murmured. “Patience does have its rewards.”

You glared at him, though the effect was ruined by the heat in your gaze. “Shut up and kiss me again, Eris.”

His grin was wicked as he obeyed.

Eris didn’t waste a second. His lips crashed onto yours again, this time with none of the teasing restraint from before. His hands tightened at your waist, pulling you flush against him as he kissed you deep, hungry, like he’d been waiting all night for this.

A pleased hum vibrated against your mouth when your fingers tangled into his fiery hair, tugging just enough to make him groan. His grip on you tightened, one hand sliding up your spine, the other slipping lower—possessive, claiming.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he broke the kiss, only to nip at the soft spot just below your ear. “You taste like wine,” he murmured, voice husky as he kissed a slow path down your throat.

“And you taste like trouble,” you shot back, though the breathless edge to your voice ruined the effect.

Eris chuckled, the sound vibrating against your skin. “Funny, I was about to say the same about you.” His hands skimmed lower, fingers pressing into your hips. “Dragging me out into the rain. Ruining my perfectly tailored suit.”

You gasped as he suddenly lifted you, hoisting you onto the nearby table in one swift motion. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, but he pulled back just slightly, his lips hovering over yours.

“What am I going to do with you?” he mused, his smirk utterly wicked.

You arched a brow, fingers still tangled in his hair. “I could give you a few ideas.”

His gaze darkened, molten heat burning in those amber eyes. “Oh, I bet you could.”

Then he kissed you again, deeper this time, until all thoughts of the ball, the rain, and everything else melted away entirely.

-----

Two months later

Azer barely stirred when his bedroom door creaked open. The early morning light filtered through the heavy curtains, casting soft golden streaks across the room. His bed was warm, the blankets a tangled mess around him, but he was still deep in sleep, his face half-buried in his pillow.

That was, until a small set of hands shoved at his shoulder.

“Azer,” Avey whisper-shouted, her seven-year-old voice laced with urgency. When he only groaned in response, she huffed and tried again—this time climbing onto his bed, her knees digging into his side as she shook him harder.

“Azer, wake up!”

He let out a dramatic groan, rolling onto his back and throwing an arm over his eyes. “Go away, Ave.” His voice was rough with sleep, and he definitely wasn’t in the mood for whatever chaos his little sister was about to unleash.

But Avey was nothing if not persistent.

She flopped down onto his chest with all her tiny weight, making him grunt in protest. “Wake up,” she whined. “It’s important!”

Azer cracked one eye open, only to find Avey’s face inches from his, her big autumn-coloured eyes wide with excitement. Her curls were a wild mess from sleep, and she was still in her nightgown, her little feet tucked under her.

He groaned again, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Ave, if this isn’t life or death—”

“It is!” she interrupted, bouncing slightly on his chest. “Mama and Dad are up, and I heard them talking about something big.”

Azer sighed, already regretting this conversation. “What kind of ‘big’?”

Avey’s grin stretched wide. “I think we’re going on a trip!”

That got his attention. Azer’s brows lifted slightly as he finally pushed himself up onto his elbows, making Avey slide off his chest and onto the mattress beside him. “A trip where?”

“I don’t know,” she huffed, flopping onto her stomach and kicking her feet. “But I heard Mama saying we have to pack, and Daddy said something about ‘preparations’ and ‘not causing a diplomatic disaster.’”

Azer blinked, then smirked. “That definitely sounds like Dad.”

Avey giggled, nodding enthusiastically. “So come on,” she urged, tugging at his arm. “We have to find out where we’re going!”

Azer let out a long-suffering sigh, but he was already swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He knew there was no getting out of this—not when Avey was determined.

“Fine, fine,” he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. “But if this is some boring meeting in another court, you owe me.”

Avey beamed, hopping off the bed. “Deal!”

Avey practically skipped down the hall, her nightgown billowing behind her as she rushed ahead. Azer trailed after her at a much slower pace, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from his eyes.

The Autumn Court palace was quiet this early in the morning, save for the occasional flickering of flames in the wall sconces and the faint rustling of servants already beginning their day. But Avey’s hurried footsteps echoed through the halls, her excitement impossible to contain.

“Avey, slow down,” Azer grumbled, running a hand through his messy hair. “If you wake up the whole palace, Dad will—”

He was cut off as Avey skidded to a stop in front of their parents’ study. Without hesitation, she pressed her ear against the heavy wooden door, eyes gleaming.

Azer sighed, crossing his arms. “Really?”

Avey shushed him, waving a frantic hand for him to join her. He rolled his eyes but stepped closer, leaning against the wall beside her.

“…we need to make sure everything is in place before we leave,” their father’s voice came from inside, calm but firm.

Azer frowned. Before we leave?

“We should tell them soon,” their mother replied, her voice softer but no less decisive. “Azer especially. He’ll need time to prepare.”

Avey turned to him, practically vibrating. See? she mouthed excitedly.

Azer ignored her, listening closer.

“We’ll tell them at breakfast,” Eris said. “And we’ll remind them to be on their best behavior—”

“Especially Azer,” their mother added, amusement clear in her tone.

Azer scowled. What was that supposed to mean?

Avey giggled into her hands.

Then, suddenly—

“I know you two are listening.”

Avey gasped, her eyes going wide as the door swung open to reveal their father standing there, arms crossed, an unimpressed expression on his face.

Busted.

Avey immediately threw Azer under the metaphorical carriage. “It was his idea!” she blurted, pointing at him.

Azer scoffed, looking down at her in betrayal. “Seriously?”

You appeared behind Eris, shaking your head but clearly amused. “Come inside,” you said, stepping aside. “Since you’re so curious.”

Avey brightened, all traces of guilt gone as she skipped into the study. Azer followed with far less enthusiasm, dragging a hand down his face.

“Good morning to you, too,” he muttered as he stepped past his father.

Eris merely raised an eyebrow. “You’ll be less pleased when you hear where we’re going.”

Azer frowned, but before he could ask, his mother gestured for them to sit.

“Children,” you said, a knowing smile on your lips, “we’re going to the Night Court.”

Azer groaned the moment the words left your mouth, dropping his head back against the chair like the weight of the world had just landed on his shoulders.

“The Night Court?” he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. “So that means…”

“Yes,” Eris confirmed, clearly enjoying his son’s misery. “You’ll be seeing Nyx and Annavella.”

Azer let out another louder groan, tilting his head to glare at you like this was your fault. “Mama, do we have to?”

Avey, sitting beside him, perked up immediately. “I like Nyx and Annavella,” she chirped, swinging her legs beneath the chair. “They’re fun.”

Azer shot her a betrayed look. “That’s because they baby you.”

Avey stuck out her tongue.

You tried—tried—to keep a straight face, but Azer’s suffering was far too entertaining. “Since your father and Rhysand formed an alliance, yes, we do have to go,” you told him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “And you will behave.”

Azer slumped further into his chair. “Nyx is so annoying.”

“He’s twenty-one, Azer,” you sighed. “I doubt he’s changed that much since the last time you saw him.”

“Exactly,” Azer huffed. “He’s worse now. He acts like he’s so mature and wise just because he’s the heir to the Night Court. And don’t get me started on Annavella.”

Eris raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with Annavella?”

Azer let out an exasperated laugh. “Oh, I don’t know—maybe the fact that she thinks she’s better than me at everything? The last time we sparred, she practically tried to take my head off!”

“She won that sparring match,” Avey reminded him sweetly.

Azer scowled. “She cheated.”

Eris chuckled, shaking his head. “Sounds like you’re afraid of a little competition.”

“I’m not afraid,” Azer grumbled, crossing his arms. “I just don’t want to deal with her smug face for an entire trip. She and Nyx are so full of themselves.”

You patted his arm, barely holding back a smile. “You’ll survive.”

Azer only slumped further, muttering something about Night Court arrogance under his breath.

Avey, meanwhile, was practically bouncing in her seat. “When do we leave?” she asked eagerly.

“Tomorrow,” Eris answered.

Azer groaned again, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, “Kill me now.”

Eris smirked. “Now, now, little firefox,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “It’ll be good for you.”

You watched as Azer slumped deeper into his chair, rubbing his temples like this trip was going to be the end of him. It was so tempting to drag this out just to watch him suffer, but you decided to be merciful—for now.

“And,” you said, drawing out the word, “Kallias and his wife will be there as well.”

Azer barely reacted.

You smirked. “With their son, Edur.”

That got his attention. His head popped up, eyes slightly less miserable. “Edur’s coming?”

“Yes.”

He nodded approvingly. “Alright. That makes it slightly better.”

Eris snorted, shaking his head at how quickly Azer’s attitude shifted. You knew he and Edur got along well—both of them were skilled fighters, and Azer actually respected him, which was rare for anyone outside of his own family.

But you weren’t done yet.

“And,” you added, enjoying this a little too much, “Tarquin is coming as well.”

Azer frowned. “Okay…”

“With his daughter.”

The moment the words left your mouth, Azer’s entire body stiffened. He slowly turned to look at you, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Noelani?”

You smiled sweetly. “Yes.”

Azer let out the loudest groan yet, dramatically flopping his head back against the chair.

“No,” he whined, dragging a hand down his face. “Not her.”

Avey, who had been swinging her legs beneath her chair, perked up at this. “Oooooh,” she hummed, grinning. “Azer likes her.”

Azer bolted upright so fast it was a miracle the chair didn’t topple over. “I do not like her, I want her existence to end.”

“You totally do,” Avey singsonged, giggling as she leaned toward him.

Azer turned his glare to you and Eris. “Why is she like this?”

“She’s seven,” Eris said simply.

“With a seven-year-old attitude,” you added, ruffling Avey’s curls.

Avey giggled again, clearly enjoying every second of Azer’s torment.

Azer groaned, dragging both hands down his face. “This is awful.”

“Oh, come now,” you teased, nudging him. “Noelani is a very nice girl.”

Azer scoffed. “She’s obnoxious.”

“You’re obnoxious,” Avey shot back.

Azer ignored her. “She’s always smiling and talking and trying to act all charming, like she thinks she’s so clever.” He rolled his eyes. “And she flirts with everyone.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you jealous?”

Azer gawked at you. “What? No! Why would I be jealous? That’s—ugh, forget it.”

Avey smirked. A perfectly mischievous smirk that looked far too much like Eris’s. “I think Azer has a crush.”

Azer groaned again, shoving away from the table. “I’m done with this conversation.”

Avey giggled, leaning into your side. “He totally likes her.”

You chuckled, wrapping an arm around your daughter. “He’s in denial.”

Eris merely shook his head, clearly amused. “This trip is going to be interesting.”

Azer, now standing with his arms crossed, scowled at all three of you. “I hate this family.”

Avey beamed up at him. “We love you, too!”

Azer moved before Avey even had the chance to scramble away. One second, she was grinning up at him with all the mischief in the world, and the next—

“AHH!”

Avey’s delighted shriek filled the room as Azer lunged, grabbing her around the waist and tackling her straight onto the plush carpet.

She wriggled and kicked, but Azer had years of training on her, easily pinning her down with one arm while using the other to mercilessly tickle her sides.

“Take it back!” he demanded over her squeals.

Avey screeched with laughter, thrashing like a wild thing. “Never!”

Azer grinned wickedly. “Wrong answer, little fox.”

His fingers moved faster, digging into her ribs, and Avey shrieked again, gasping between giggles as she tried to kick at him.

“Mama, help!” she cried, still laughing so hard tears pricked her eyes.

You crossed your arms, pretending to think it over. “Hmm… I don’t know. You did say Azer had a crush.”

Avey cackled. “Because he does!”

Azer groaned, flopping dramatically onto his back beside her. “Why do you exist?”

Avey immediately rolled onto him, sprawling across his chest in a way that made it impossible for him to move.

“Because you’d be so boring without me,” she declared, grinning as she poked his cheek.

Azer huffed, scowling at her. “You’re the worst.”

Avey batted her lashes. “And you love me.”

Azer sighed, letting his head fall back onto the carpet. “Unfortunately.”

Avey giggled, curling up against him like a satisfied little fox kit. Azer sighed again but let her stay, draping an arm around her like he always did.

Eris leaned toward you, murmuring, “Seven going on seventeen.”

You laughed softly, watching your children—so different, yet always drawn back to each other. “Tell me about it.”

Azer lay sprawled on the carpet, letting Avey practically nest on top of him. She had her arms tucked beneath her chin, peering up at him with a triumphant little grin, clearly very pleased with herself.

He huffed. “You’re ridiculously smug for someone who just got tackled.”

Avey wrinkled her nose at him. “You still didn’t win.”

Azer raised a brow. “Oh?”

Before she could react, he flipped them, rolling her onto her back and pinning her wrists to the floor.

“Who’s winning now?” he teased, grinning down at her.

Avey scowled. “You cheated!”

Azer barked a laugh. “I taught you this move, little fox. You should’ve been ready.”

Avey thrashed, trying to break free, but Azer easily kept her in place, smirking as she let out an exasperated groan.

You and Eris watched from the side, both of you thoroughly entertained.

“I give it a minute before she bites him,” Eris murmured.

You hummed, considering. “Thirty seconds.”

And then—

“OW—Avey!”

Azer jerked back, grabbing his arm where Avey had actually bitten him. Avey used the distraction to scramble free, cackling as she bolted across the room.

“I knew it,” Eris said, shaking his head.

Azer glared after his sister, rubbing his arm. “You are feral!”

Avey only stuck her tongue out at him. “You deserved it!”

Eris chuckled, stepping forward and ruffling Azer’s hair. “That’s what you get for underestimating a little fox.”

Azer grumbled something under his breath, still glaring at his sister, but he didn’t argue.

You just smiled, watching them—knowing that no matter how much they bickered, no matter how much they teased and tackled each other, Azer would always protect her, and Avey would always adore him.

Seven going on seventeen, indeed.

Avey kept a safe distance from her brother, practically vibrating with smugness as she rocked back on her heels. “What’s wrong, Azer?” she taunted, her little hands on her hips. “Didn’t think your baby sister could outsmart you?”

Azer rolled his eyes, still rubbing his arm where she’d bitten him. “You didn’t outsmart me, you cheated.”

Avey just grinned. “You should’ve been ready.”

Eris let out a low chuckle beside you, clearly enjoying this far too much. “She is your sister,” he reminded Azer. “I don’t know why you’re surprised.”

Azer let out a long suffering sigh, running a hand through his unruly hair. “She’s a menace.”

Avey beamed, taking it as a compliment. “I am!”

Eris shook his head with a soft smirk, then glanced at you. “How do you feel about giving her to Rhysand as a diplomatic gift?”

Avey gasped, utterly offended. “Mama!” she cried, running straight to you and wrapping her arms around your waist. “Tell him he’s not allowed to give me away!”

You smoothed a hand over her wild curls, barely containing your laughter. “I don’t think Rhys could handle you, little fox.”

Avey nodded fiercely. “Exactly!”

Azer snorted. “He’d return her in a day.”

Avey whipped around, pointing an accusing finger at him. “I am a delight, you meanie!”

Azer just smirked. “A delightful menace.”

Avey huffed dramatically, but instead of arguing, she just turned back to you, her eyes wide and pleading. “Mama, can we please go now?”

You smiled down at her. “Go where?”

She groaned, bouncing on her toes. “To the lake! Azer promised!”

You raised a brow, glancing at your son. “Did you?”

Azer sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I might have.”

Eris chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Then you’d better take her before she decides to bite you again.”

Azer grimaced as Avey giggled, clearly thrilled by the idea.

“Fine, fine,” Azer muttered, grabbing her hand. “But if you splash me in, I swear—”

Avey just cackled as she dragged him toward the door, already knowing she would.

As Azer and Avey disappeared through the doorway—Avey practically bouncing on her toes, Azer grumbling but following nonetheless—you felt Eris’ arm tighten around your waist, keeping you close.

The warmth of his body against yours was familiar, steady. Even after all these years, after all the chaos and change, there was something constant in the way he held you.

You glanced up at him, and his gaze was already on you—amber eyes soft, lingering, filled with something deep and unspoken.

“You’re looking at me like that again,” you murmured.

His lips twitched. “Like what?”

You tilted your head, watching him carefully. “Like you’re trying to memorize me.”

Eris huffed a quiet laugh, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, he reached up, fingers brushing along your jaw, tilting your face slightly toward him.

“I already have you memorized,” he murmured, voice lower now, softer. “But I like to remind myself anyway.”

Your breath hitched, caught in the way his thumb traced over your cheekbone, the way his gaze flickered over every detail of your face—as if he were savouring the moment, as if he wanted to keep it forever.

You smirked, placing a hand over his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm. “Sentimental, aren’t we?”

He exhaled a quiet laugh, leaning down just enough that his lips almost brushed yours. “Don’t tell anyone.”

You grinned, tilting your chin up slightly, closing that last bit of space. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

And then, just before his lips could fully claim yours—

A scream echoed from outside, followed by a loud splash.

You both froze.

Then—

“Avey, I swear!” Azer’s furious voice rang through the halls.

Eris let out a low groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why did we have children?”

You laughed, grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the door. “Because you love me and your dick always used to end up between my legs.”

Eris sighed dramatically, but he followed—because he did. More than anything.

The two of you stepped outside, the warm breeze carrying the scent of damp earth and pine from the gardens. The moment your feet hit the stone pathway leading toward the lake, you knew what you were about to find.

Sure enough—

Azer stood at the edge of the water, dripping wet, clothes clinging to him, curls a soaked mess as he glowered at his little sister. Avey, who was still standing knee-deep in the lake, had her hands clasped behind her back, lips pursed in an attempt to contain her laughter.

“You little monster,” Azer seethed.

Avey giggled, her shoulders shaking. “You should’ve seen your face!”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing, but beside you, Eris had no such restraint. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, and when you turned to look at him, he was smirking.

“You did say she couldn’t push you in,” Eris mused. “Not that she couldn’t pull you.”

Azer shot his father a withering glare. “Not. Helping.”

Eris merely shrugged, unbothered, as his attention flicked back to Avey. “You’re lucky I like you, little fox.”

Avey grinned, positively beaming. “I know.”

Azer groaned, pushing his wet curls back from his face. “I hate all of you.”

You snorted. “You don’t.”

Azer exhaled sharply, muttering something under his breath, but before he could start his inevitable rant about how much of a menace his little sister was, Avey let out a squeak—

And promptly ran straight for you.

You barely had time to react before she leapt into your arms, soaking you in the process. The cold water from her clothes seeped into your dress, making you gasp as she nuzzled into your neck, giggling.

Eris smirked at your expression, stepping forward to ruffle Avey’s soaked curls. “You are soaked, little fox.”

Avey hummed. “So’s Azer.”

Azer grumbled something incomprehensible.

Eris exhaled through his nose, then turned to you, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Shall we retrieve our chaotic children and return before we cause any more scandal?”

You sighed but smiled, adjusting Avey in your arms. “I suppose.”

Eris smirked, then reached for Azer’s shoulder, clapping a hand against his wet clothes. “Come, my drowned heir. Let’s get you dried off before your mother disowns us all.”

Azer groaned, but followed—because, despite the theatrics, he wouldn’t change any of this for the world.

-----

Rhysand leaned back in his chair, swirling a glass of wine between his fingers as he looked around the room. Feyre sat beside him, one arm draped over the back of her chair, her expression calm but observant. Across from them, Cassian was sprawled lazily on the couch, his wings draped over the sides, while Nesta sat beside him, her usual unimpressed stare locked on her mate’s attempt at looking relaxed.

Azriel stood near the window, arms crossed, his shadows curling idly around his shoulders. The room was warm, the soft glow of the chandelier reflecting against the polished wood floors, but there was an edge to the atmosphere—an unspoken weight in the air as they all waited.

Seated in the center of it all were the next generation—Nyx, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, and Annavella, who was perched on the arm of a chair, idly twirling a strand of dark hair between her fingers. Cassian and Nesta’s sons sat beside them—Andros, the eldest at nineteen, with his father’s broad shoulders and wild grin, and Evander, who was eighteen and a perfect balance of both his parents, sharp and steady but with Cassian’s penchant for trouble lurking beneath his composed exterior.

“You’re making it sound like we’re preparing for war,” Nyx finally said, raising a brow at his father.

Rhysand exhaled a slow breath, setting his wine down on the table. “Not war. But there will be tensions.” His violet gaze flicked toward Andros and Evander. “It’s your first time meeting them all at the same time, and I want you to be prepared.”

Annavella rolled her eyes. “It’s a gathering, not a battlefield.”

Nesta scoffed, taking a sip of her own drink. “Clearly, you’ve never been to a court gathering.”

Cassian grinned, ruffling Evander’s hair, much to his son’s annoyance. “There’s a lot of pride on the line when you throw High Lords and their families in one room. You’ll want to keep an eye on everything—and everyone.”

Evander frowned slightly. “Who exactly is coming?”

Rhysand leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Eris and his family, obviously. His son Azer is around your age, along with his younger sister, Avey.” His gaze flicked toward Nyx and Annavella. “You two have met them, but this will be the first formal gathering since they’ve become fully recognized within Autumn.”

Nyx nodded, his expression unreadable. “Azer’s fine. A bit high-strung, but fine.”

Cassian snorted. “Can you blame him? Look who his father is.”

Feyre shot him a look, but Rhysand only smirked before continuing. “Kallias and Viviane will be attending as well, along with their son, Edur. He’s twenty now.”

Andros perked up. “He’s the one that trained in Winter’s army, right?”

Azriel nodded. “He’s skilled—one of their best.”

Evander raised a brow. “So he’ll be fun to spar with?”

Cassian grinned, nudging his son’s shoulder. “Maybe. If Kallias doesn’t mind you breaking his alliances.”

Nesta sighed, shaking her head before turning to Rhysand. “Who else?”

“Tarquin,” Rhysand replied. “And his daughter, Noelani.”

Nyx groaned immediately, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Not her.”

Annavella laughed, tossing a cushion at her brother. “Oh, come on, Nyx. She likes you.”

“That’s the problem.”

Cassian laughed loudly, and even Azriel smirked slightly. “She’s persistent,” Rhysand admitted, amusement flickering in his gaze. “But you’ll survive.”

Nyx grumbled something under his breath.

Andros glanced at Evander, who was trying to stifle a grin. “This is going to be interesting.”

Rhysand exhaled slowly, glancing around the room, making sure they all understood. “Just remember—this is about alliances, about maintaining the peace that’s been built over the years. Whatever personal feelings you have about the others, put them aside.”

Cassian stretched, flexing his wings. “And if it does come to a fight—”

Nesta smacked his arm.

Cassian grinned. “What? Just saying. Wouldn’t be the worst way to spend an evening.”

Rhysand sighed, rubbing his temples. “Mother help us all.”

Nyx groaned again, leaning back in his chair. “I still don’t get why we have to be the ones dealing with this. Shouldn’t this be a High Lord thing?”

Rhysand gave his son a pointed look. “You’re the heir to this court, Nyx. One day, you will be the one managing these relationships.”

Nyx muttered something under his breath, but Annavella smirked. “I think it’s fun. Maybe Azer and I can make a game out of it—see how long it takes before someone snaps.”

Evander chuckled. “You say that like you’re not going to be the first one to start something, again may I add.”

Nesta sighed, rubbing her temples. “Please, for once, can we get through an evening without one of you causing a scene?”

Andros grinned at his mother. “No promises.”

Cassian laughed, clapping his eldest on the back. “That’s my boy.”

Rhysand rolled his eyes before turning back to Azriel, who had remained silent, simply listening to the conversation unfold. “What do you think?”

Azriel shrugged, his shadows curling around his shoulders. “Eris is smart. He knows the importance of tonight.”

Nyx scoffed. “Yeah, but Azer?”

Azriel hesitated for half a second before exhaling. “Azer takes after his father in ways that matter. He’ll keep himself in check.”

Annavella grinned. “I hope not.”

Rhysand shook his head, but before he could respond, Feyre cut in. “We also need to be aware of the political weight of this night. It’s not just about alliances—it’s about history. The Autumn Court has been in shadows for centuries under Beron’s rule. This is one of the first times Eris is fully opening his doors to others.”

Nyx tapped his fingers against his knee. “So what? We’re supposed to act like everything’s perfect and ignore the fact that everyone has some kind of grudge against each other?”

Nesta arched a brow at him. “That’s called politics.”

Cassian smirked. “That’s called bullshit.”

Feyre sighed. “Just try not to let your emotions get the best of you.”

Nyx let out a long breath before finally nodding. “Fine. I’ll behave.”

Andros snickered. “That makes one of us.”

Evander grinned. “Two.”

Annavella just winked.

Rhysand closed his eyes for a moment before muttering, “This is going to be a disaster.”

-----

You sighed as you knelt in front of Avey, carefully wrapping her in a thick, warm towel. Her curls clung to her face, damp and tangled from her latest adventure—one that had ended with her completely drenched, yet again.

"Avey," you murmured, gently squeezing the towel around her shoulders. "This is the third time today. Do you enjoy making me chase you down with a towel?"

Your seven-year-old daughter giggled, her little nose scrunching as she rocked slightly on her heels. "Maybe," she admitted, mischief glinting in her bright amber eyes—the same ones her father had.

You shook your head, unable to suppress a small smile as you rubbed the towel over her curls, trying to absorb as much water as possible. "You're going to catch a cold at this rate."

"Nuh-uh!" she protested, puffing out her chest. "I'm strong!"

"You're soaked," you countered, pulling the towel from her head and moving to dry her arms next. Her skin was still cool from the lake, and you hurried to warm her up, rubbing her down with firm, steady motions.

Avey sighed dramatically, letting her head tilt back. "You're like Azer."

You arched a brow, moving to dry her tiny legs. "Oh? How so?"

"He always says I’m trouble," she grumbled, crossing her arms.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. "That’s because you are trouble."

She gasped, eyes going wide with faux betrayal. "Mama!"

You winked at her, then reached for the fresh clothes laid out on the bed. A simple cream-colored dress with delicate embroidery along the edges—something soft and easy to move in.

"Arms up," you instructed.

Avey obeyed, lifting her arms so you could pull the dress over her head. It fell into place around her small frame, and she wiggled her fingers excitedly before spinning in a little circle.

"Pretty?" she asked, peering up at you.

You brushed her curls back from her face, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Very pretty."

She beamed, then suddenly gasped. "Oh! Shoes!"

You barely had time to react before she sprinted across the room, slipping slightly on the rug as she grabbed a pair of tiny slippers. She shoved her feet into them, grinning triumphantly as she turned back to you.

"Ready!" she announced.

You stood, smoothing out her dress one last time before taking her hands in yours. "No more lakes tonight, understood?"

Avey bit her lip, clearly debating.

"Avey."

"Okay," she relented with a sigh. "No more lakes."

You arched a brow. "Or fountains. Or ponds. Or any water that isn't a bath."

She huffed. "You sound like Daddy."

You smirked. "Good. Now, let’s go before he realizes how much of a mess you made."

Avey giggled, gripping your hand tightly as you led her toward the door—warm, dry, and looking every bit the little princess she was. For now, at least.

You scooped Avey up into your arms, pressing a quick kiss to her damp curls as she giggled, her little arms wrapping around your neck. She was warm now, her fresh dress soft against your skin as she nestled into you.

"Where are we going?" she asked, her voice lilting with curiosity.

"To my room," you murmured, shifting her slightly in your arms. "So I can braid your hair before you go running off again."

Avey let out a dramatic sigh, flopping her head against your shoulder. "Braiding takes forever."

You chuckled, carrying her through the halls of the Autumn Court’s grand estate. The flickering faelights cast soft golden glows along the walls, the distant hum of the evening carrying through the corridors. Avey tapped her fingers against your shoulder as you reached your chambers, pushing the door open with ease.

The room was warm, the fireplace crackling gently in the corner. You set Avey down on the cushioned stool in front of your vanity, her little legs swinging as she looked at herself in the mirror, making faces.

You grabbed a wooden brush from the vanity, running it gently through her curls. "Hold still, little fox."

Avey pouted but obeyed, only fidgeting slightly as you worked through the tangles. Her hair gleamed under the light, the soft waves slowly smoothing out with each careful stroke.

"You have so much hair," you murmured, brushing it all to one side.

"Daddy says it’s wild like me," Avey said with a grin.

You smiled, gathering three small sections of hair near her temple. "Well, let’s see if we can tame it a little."

You started twisting the strands together, weaving them delicately as your fingers worked with practiced ease. Avey hummed under her breath, her hands resting in her lap as you continued.

"Are you making it fancy?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.

"A little," you admitted. "But not too fancy. Just enough to keep it out of your face."

She seemed satisfied with that, watching in the mirror as the intricate twist braids formed, wrapping gently around the side of her head.

"I like when you do my hair," she admitted softly.

Your hands stilled for a moment before you pressed another kiss to the crown of her head. "I like doing your hair, baby."

She smiled, leaning into your touch. You finished securing the braids with a delicate ribbon, tying it neatly before running your hands over her hair one last time.

"There," you said, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. "Now you’re ready."

Avey turned in her seat, reaching up to touch the braids before beaming at you. "Thank you, Mama!"

You brushed your fingers along her cheek. "Always, my love."

And as she hopped off the stool, twirling once in front of the mirror, you swore you saw the same wild spirit in her eyes that Eris carried—bright, untamed, and full of fire.

The door creaked open just as Avey finished her twirl, and a familiar voice filled the room.

"What are you two up to?"

Azer leaned lazily against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest, the usual sharp amusement dancing in his eyes. His red hair—so much like Eris’s—was slightly tousled, as if he’d just rolled out of bed or had been roughhousing with someone, which, knowing him, was highly likely.

Avey gasped dramatically, whirling around to face him. "Look! Mama braided my hair!" She grabbed the ends of the delicate twist braids, her little fingers fumbling to show them off.

Azer pushed off the doorframe, sauntering into the room with the casual confidence of someone who knew exactly how much space they took up. He stopped just beside Avey, reaching down to flick one of her braids lightly.

"Not bad," he mused, tilting his head. "Mama’s got some skill."

You raised a brow at him, folding your arms. "Are you just figuring that out now?"

Azer grinned. "I mean, I guess I could have better ones, but—"

"You have better ones," you interrupted, rolling your eyes. "I’ve been braiding your hair since you could sit still long enough for me to do it."

Avey giggled, stepping closer to her brother and grabbing the hem of his tunic. "Are you gonna get braids, too?" she asked, looking up at him with wide, mischievous eyes.

Azer scoffed. "No way."

"Why not?"

"Because I have style, little fox," he teased, ruffling her hair and promptly messing up a few strands you’d just secured.

Avey let out an indignant squeal, swatting at his hand. "Azer! Mama just fixed it!"

You sighed, already stepping forward to smooth her hair back into place. "Honestly, do you have to torment her all the time?"

"It’s part of my job," Azer said matter-of-factly, stepping back before Avey could retaliate.

Avey crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at him. "You should get braids, then I’ll forgive you."

Azer chuckled, but something in his gaze softened as he looked at her—his little sister, his shadow, the only person who could truly bend him to her will. With an exaggerated sigh, he turned his back to you, lowering his head just enough.

"Fine. One. One braid," he said, pointing a warning finger at you. "And if anyone sees, I’m blaming you."

Avey cheered, bouncing on her toes. "Yes!"

You just smirked, already gathering a few strands of his unruly red hair. "I think I’ll make it fancy."

"Not too fancy!" he quickly protested, but the way he stayed still—the way he let you do it at all—said more than words ever could.

You ran your fingers through Azer’s thick, unruly red hair, smoothing out any tangles as he knelt on the floor in front of you, his back to you. He was tense at first, his pride making this harder for him than it needed to be, but as your fingers worked methodically, he relaxed, exhaling slowly.

Avey sat cross-legged beside him, watching with rapt attention, a grin tugging at her lips as if she couldn't believe her big brother had actually given in.

"You know," you murmured, carefully sectioning a small strand at the nape of his neck, "for someone so dramatic about this, you sure have nice hair. You should let me do this more often."

Azer groaned. "Don't push your luck, Mama."

You smirked, weaving the first few strands together. "Oh, don’t worry. Avey will make sure this isn’t the last time."

"I will," Avey confirmed with a firm nod.

Azer sighed, but you could feel the way he was holding back a smile.

With steady hands, you continued braiding, the rhythm of it as familiar as breathing. His hair was soft, silky despite his reckless nature, and it took to the braid easily. You made it neat but not too intricate—just enough that it wouldn’t unravel too quickly, but still subtle enough that he wouldn’t feel like a walking target when the others inevitably noticed.

As you reached the end of the braid, you grabbed a small leather cord from the table beside you and tied it off, securing the strands in place. You let your fingers linger for just a second before sitting back, admiring your work.

"Done," you announced, patting his shoulder.

Avey clapped her hands excitedly. "Let me see!"

Azer reached up, running his fingers over the small braid at the base of his neck. He turned his head slightly, catching your expression—your barely contained amusement, the fondness in your eyes.

"Alright, alright," he muttered, standing up and shaking his head, as if trying to see if the braid would just come undone on its own. When it didn’t, he let out another sigh, but there was something softer in his expression as he turned back to you.

"Happy now?"

Avey grinned. "Very."

And despite himself—despite all his protests—Azer smirked, giving you a look that was so much like Eris’s, full of reluctant amusement and deep-seated affection.

You reached out, fixing the collar of his shirt. "You?" you asked, tilting your head at him.

Azer rolled his eyes. "Don’t push it," he muttered, but the way he nudged Avey’s shoulder—the way he didn’t immediately take the braid out—told you everything you needed to know.

Eris strode into the room, his presence as commanding as ever, though there was a rare ease in his expression. He glanced around, expecting movement, maybe the usual last-minute scrambling before departure. Instead, he found the three of you huddled together, suspiciously still. His sharp amber eyes flickered with confusion as he took in the scene—Azer sitting on the floor, Avey perched beside him, and you kneeling behind your son with your hands suspiciously close to his head.

“What exactly is going on here?” he asked slowly, crossing his arms. His gaze zeroed in on Azer, who immediately tensed, sitting up straighter as if caught doing something scandalous.

Avey, on the other hand, had no such reservations. She beamed up at her father. “Mama braided his hair!” she announced proudly.

Eris’s eyebrows lifted, his gaze flicking down to the small, subtle braid nestled at the nape of Azer’s neck. His lips twitched as he fought a smirk, though the glint of amusement in his eyes betrayed him.

Azer groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “This is not a big deal.”

Eris hummed in mock consideration, tilting his head. “No, I suppose it’s not. But it is rather… unexpected.”

You sat back on your heels, wiping your hands on your skirts. “You say that like I haven’t done this to you before.”

Eris gave you a knowing look, one that sent warmth curling low in your stomach. “Yes, but I married you. Azer here still has his pride to think about.”

Azer scowled. “Are we done? Or are we going to analyse my hair?”

Eris chuckled, finally taking a step forward. “I came to check if everyone was packed, but clearly you’re all too busy playing dress-up.”

“I am packed,” Azer shot back.

Avey, of course, had no such claims. She gasped dramatically, grabbing your arm. “I forgot my stuffed fox!”

Eris sighed, shaking his head. “I should’ve known.” Then, looking back at you, he arched a brow. “And you, my love? Or were you too occupied tormenting our son?”

You smirked. “I’m ready. Just waiting on these two.”

Eris exhaled through his nose, clearly holding back a laugh as he ruffled Azer’s hair—a deliberate move to mess with the carefully woven braid. Azer swatted his hand away with a glare, and Avey giggled.

Eris grinned. “Hurry up, little foxes. We leave soon.”

Azer groaned as Eris left the room, muttering something under his breath about insufferable parents while Avey scrambled to her feet, suddenly remembering all the things she needed to bring.

You stood, brushing off your skirts, watching as your daughter darted around the room in a flurry of energy, grabbing her stuffed fox, a book far too heavy for her to actually read, and a small bundle of miscellaneous trinkets she had deemed essential for the trip.

Azer, still seated on the floor, rubbed a hand over his face before looking up at you. “Do we really have to go?”

You sighed, walking over to him and nudging his shoulder with your foot. “Yes, you really have to go.”

He groaned louder this time, tilting his head back against the edge of the bed. “Nyx and Annavella are so annoying.”

“You say that like you’re not just as bad.”

He scowled at you. “They’re worse.”

You rolled your eyes, reaching for his wrist and tugging him up to his feet. “Come on, stop sulking. It won’t be that bad.”

He gave you a flat look. “You do remember that Noelani will be there, right?”

Avey gasped dramatically from the other side of the room. “She likes you!”

Azer looked horrified. “She does not!”

Avey smirked, hugging her stuffed fox. “She does.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing as Azer threw his hands up in exasperation. “This is actual torture.”

You patted his cheek fondly. “Oh, you’ll survive.”

He muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like I’d rather not, but he didn’t argue further, which was a miracle in itself.

Eris’s voice echoed down the hall. “Are you three coming or am I leaving you behind?”

Avey gasped again, clutching your arm. “No! Don’t leave me!”

You laughed, hoisting her up onto your hip. “Let’s go before your father actually considers it.”

Azer trudged after you both, muttering complaints all the way down the hall.

-----

The carriage rocked gently as it moved through the Night Court’s mountainous terrain, the familiar scent of crisp night air seeping through the cracks. You could already see the glow of the palace ahead, the elegant structure nestled into the cliffs of Velaris, its towers piercing the dark sky.

Inside the carriage, Avey sat beside you, kicking her feet restlessly against the seat, while Azer slouched on the other side, arms crossed, staring moodily out the window. Eris sat beside him, watching his daughter’s movements with an arched brow.

“Avey,” Eris finally said, his voice calm but firm.

She froze mid-kick, blinking up at him innocently. “Yes, Daddy?”

Eris gave her a pointed look. “What are the rules?”

Avey huffed, tilting her head back dramatically against your shoulder. “Be polite, don’t interrupt, don’t challenge people to fights—”

“Especially not Cassian,” Eris added, rubbing his temple as if already anticipating disaster.

Avey grinned. “But he always accepts!”

Eris sighed. “That is not the point, little fox.”

Avey giggled but quickly straightened her posture when Eris narrowed his eyes at her. “Fine, fine. Be polite, don’t interrupt, no fights, and no climbing on anything.”

“Or anyone,” you added, thinking of the last time you were here when Avey had quite literally scaled Azriel’s leg like a tree.

Avey pouted. “He didn’t mind.”

Eris pinched the bridge of his nose. “Regardless, I minded.”

She sighed dramatically. “Fine. I’ll try to be good.”

Azer snorted. “Yeah, right.”

Avey turned and stuck her tongue out at him.

Eris exhaled sharply. “And you,” he said, looking at Azer now. “I don’t want to hear any complaints about Nyx, Annavella, or Noelani tonight. Understood?”

Azer scowled but grumbled, “Understood.”

You reached over, patting his knee. “Thank you for at least pretending to behave.”

Azer muttered something under his breath, but you chose to ignore it as the carriage slowed, signalling your arrival.

Eris straightened his jacket, casting one last glance at his children. “Be on your best behavior.”

Avey beamed. Azer rolled his eyes. And you—well, you just knew this night was going to be interesting.

The carriage door swung open, revealing a familiar stone courtyard bathed in the soft glow of faelights. The crisp night air rushed in, carrying the scent of rain-soaked earth and blooming jasmine.

Avey was the first to scramble forward, but Eris caught her before she could leap out. He shot her a warning look, and she huffed but obediently let him lift her down with practiced ease. Azer stepped out next, landing with a heavy thud, shoving his hands into his pockets. You followed last, smoothing out your attire before taking Eris’s offered hand as he helped you down.

Velaris’s grand palace loomed before you, dark and elegant, the open doors revealing the warm glow of candlelight inside. At the top of the steps, Rhysand and Feyre stood waiting, both dressed in their court’s signature shades of deep midnight and starlight silver.

Feyre’s lips twitched as she looked between your children. “They’ve grown.”

Rhysand smirked slightly, eyeing Azer’s unamused expression. “Some more than others.”

Azer gritted his teeth, clearly already preparing himself for a long night. You nudged his side in warning.

Eris stepped forward, inclining his head slightly in greeting. “Rhysand. Feyre.”

Rhys nodded back, his expression unreadable. “Eris.”

It was a tentative truce between them, one that had taken years to forge. But despite their alliance, an air of tension always remained—a deep-rooted wariness that neither High Lord would ever fully let go of.

Feyre, ever the diplomat, smiled at you warmly. “It’s good to finally host you properly.”

You returned her smile. “Likewise.”

Before anything else could be said, a flurry of movement caught everyone’s attention as Nyx and Annavella appeared, walking down the steps toward you.

Nyx, now twenty-one, moved with an easy confidence that he’d inherited from his father, his cobalt siphons gleaming against his black leathers. Beside him, Annavella, the same age as Azer, was dressed in a flowing gown of deep violet, her golden-brown curls cascading down her back.

Nyx’s lips curled into a smirk as he clapped Azer on the shoulder. “Miss me?”

Azer gave him a deadpan look. “Like a hole in the head.”

Annavella rolled her eyes. “And yet you never change.”

Before Azer could retort, another voice cut in.

“You made it.”

Cassian’s deep, amused voice carried across the courtyard as he and Nesta descended the steps. Azriel followed a few paces behind them, his shadows curling slightly in the cool air.

Avey’s face lit up, and before Eris could stop her, she bolted straight for Cassian.

“Cassian!”

Cassian barely had time to brace himself before Avey launched into his arms. He caught her effortlessly, laughing. “There’s my favorite little Vanserra.”

Eris sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is exactly what I was talking about.”

Cassian grinned unapologetically, ruffling Avey’s hair. “Come on, Eris, don’t act like she doesn’t get it from you.”

Eris muttered something under his breath, but Avey just giggled, clinging to Cassian like a koala.

Nesta crossed her arms, eyeing her mate. “Put her down before she starts thinking she can get away with anything.”

Cassian smirked. “Oh, but she can.”

Eris looked like he was deeply regretting every life choice that had led him here.

Meanwhile, Azriel’s shadows curled toward Avey, brushing against her arms. She gasped, twisting to look at them. “Hello again!”

Azriel’s lips twitched slightly. “You remember them?”

Avey nodded eagerly. “They’re my friends.”

Azer groaned, rubbing his temples. “Mother above, this is going to be exhausting.”

You just smiled, squeezing his shoulder. “Welcome to diplomacy, my dear.”

A rush of footsteps echoed through the courtyard as two more figures appeared at the top of the stairs—Andros and Evander, Cassian and Nesta’s sons.

Andros, the older of the two at nineteen, had the same broad build as his father, his wings tucked neatly behind him. His dark hair was tousled, as if he had just flown in from training, and his golden-brown eyes gleamed with mischief. He had inherited Nesta’s sharp features but wore Cassian’s signature cocky grin.

Evander, only a year younger, had a slightly leaner build but carried himself with the same easy confidence. His hazel eyes flicked over the gathered group, his mouth twitching as he took in Azer’s unamused expression.

“Well, well,” Andros drawled as he descended the steps, wings flaring slightly. “Look what the wind dragged in.”

Azer groaned, already regretting everything about this visit. “Is it too late to turn around and leave?”

Evander smirked, clapping a hand on Azer’s shoulder. “Afraid so. You’re stuck with us now.”

Avey, still in Cassian’s arms, wriggled excitedly. “Andros! Evander!”

Cassian huffed as she all but launched herself at Andros. He caught her easily, spinning her around before setting her down with a dramatic bow. “Princess Avey, looking as ferocious as ever.”

Avey puffed up proudly. “I am ferocious.”

Evander ruffled her hair. “You’re definitely something.”

Eris sighed, crossing his arms. “This is exactly why I warned her about manners.”

Andros grinned. “She has excellent manners. Just… selective use of them.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “That’s the problem.”

Azer, meanwhile, had taken a half-step away, clearly prepared to avoid whatever chaos his sister and the two Illyrian males were about to cause. But Andros, never one to let an opportunity pass, draped an arm around Azer’s shoulders.

“You know, I think I missed you, Vanserra.”

Azer shot him a deadpan look. “That’s unfortunate for you.”

Evander laughed. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

Azriel, who had been silently observing, finally spoke, his shadows curling lazily around him. “Let’s see if you’re still saying that by the end of the night.”

Azer muttered under his breath, “Cauldron, save me.”

The group made their way through the grand halls of the Night Court’s palace, footsteps echoing softly against the polished floors. The towering ceilings, carved with intricate constellations, seemed to glow under the soft faelights lining the walls. Despite Azer’s reluctance about this visit, even he had to admit—the place had style.

Rhysand led the way, walking with that effortless grace that spoke of his power. “Your rooms have been prepared in the guest wing,” he said smoothly, glancing over his shoulder at them. “I assume you’ll find them comfortable.”

Eris, walking beside you with Avey’s small hand in his, gave a slow nod. “We’ll see.” His tone wasn’t harsh, but it held that natural edge, that careful reservation he always carried outside of Autumn.

Avey, meanwhile, looked like she wanted to touch everything. She twisted in Eris’s grip, her wide amber eyes darting to the draped tapestries, the sparkling chandeliers, the darkened garden views beyond the windows. Azer nudged her as they walked, whispering, “If you break something, I’m not covering for you.”

Avey just grinned, whispering back, “You always cover for me.”

Rhysand led them up a spiraling staircase, gesturing down a long hallway. “Azer, your room is here,” he said, opening a door to a spacious chamber with deep sapphire accents and a view of the mountains. A large bed sat in the centre, draped in plush, midnight-blue blankets, and a small seating area was arranged near a balcony.

Azer glanced around, nodding slightly. Not bad.

Before he could step inside, Avey tugged on his sleeve. “Where’s mine?”

Rhys smirked, leading them a few doors down to another room. This one was lighter—rich purples and silvers, a few plush pillows scattered on the bed. Avey gasped and immediately ran inside, flopping onto the bed like she was testing its bounce.

“It’s so soft!” she exclaimed.

Eris sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Avey.”

She grinned up at him. “What? You said not to break anything. I’m not breaking anything.”

Rhysand chuckled, turning to you and Eris. “And yours is just ahead.”

He led you both to a grand chamber at the end of the hall. It was elegant but understated, done in deep, romantic hues. A large fireplace flickered in the corner, the carved wood furniture polished to perfection. The balcony doors were slightly ajar, allowing a cool breeze to drift inside.

Rhysand gestured inside with an amused smile. “If anything is not to your liking, feel free to send a complaint directly to my mate. I won’t listen, but Feyre is far more accommodating.”

You rolled your eyes with a soft laugh. “Noted.”

Eris simply exhaled through his nose, stepping inside and surveying the room. “It’ll do.”

Rhysand placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Such high praise, Vanserra.”

Eris didn’t dignify him with a response, instead turning toward you as Avey’s delighted giggles echoed down the hall. “Do you think she’ll last ten minutes before getting into trouble?”

You sighed, rubbing your temple. “Five.”

Azer, still lingering in the doorway of his room, called, “Two. At best.”

It was less than two minutes before a loud crash echoed down the hallway.

You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply before turning toward Eris, who already looked exhausted. He pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath, while Rhysand just smirked.

“Well,” Azer sighed, leaning casually against his doorway, “that didn’t take long.”

Eris shot him a warning look before pushing past you, striding down the hall toward the sound of what was probably destruction. You followed quickly, heart already sinking as you turned the corner and saw Avey standing in the middle of her room—innocently—while a large, ornate vase lay shattered at her feet.

Avey, to her credit, at least looked a little guilty. “It was an accident,” she said quickly, hands clasped behind her back.

Rhysand, standing beside you, let out a low chuckle. “That,” he murmured, “was an expensive accident.”

Azer sighed dramatically. “Told you.”

Eris’s jaw tightened as he crossed his arms. “Aveline.” His voice was low, measured.

The use of her full name made Avey straighten. “I didn’t mean to!” she protested. “I was just—spinning, and then I tripped, and then the table wobbled, and then boom.” She spread her arms for effect.

Cassian, who had wandered in with Nesta and Azriel behind him, snorted. “Gotta say, that sounds a lot like how Nyx used to be at that age.”

“I never broke anything that expensive,” Nyx muttered from the doorway, arms crossed as he took in the damage.

Nesta let out a long sigh before turning toward you. “Would you like some wine?”

Eris cut in before you could answer. “No. She’d like an explanation from our daughter about why she can’t stand still for one minute without causing a scene.”

Avey, still standing there with wide, innocent eyes, tilted her head. “Because I’m seven?”

Silence.

Azriel made a choked sound that might have been a laugh before turning away, shoulders shaking slightly.

Eris ran a hand down his face. You, on the other hand, took a long breath and crouched down to Avey’s level. “Sweetheart,” you said gently, “this isn’t our home. We have to be respectful of other people’s things, okay?”

Avey shuffled her feet. “I was being respectful. The vase got in my way.”

Nesta exhaled through her nose. “Oh, I like her.”

Rhysand, ever the amused host, simply waved a hand. The shattered pieces of the vase lifted from the ground, reforming smoothly before settling back onto the table, completely whole. He smirked down at Avey. “Try not to destroy my house before dinner, little Vanserra.”

Avey beamed. “No promises.”

Eris let out a slow, measured breath. “We are never visiting again.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples before glancing at Rhysand. “We’ll cover the cost,” you said, exasperated. “And anything else she manages to break before we leave.”

Rhysand chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. “Consider it a gift.”

You arched a brow. “A gift?”

He smirked, tilting his head toward Avey, who was now whispering something to Evander, her wide grin telling you she was already plotting her next grand adventure. “Yes. A gift for the sheer entertainment she’s about to provide.”

Eris let out a long breath beside you. “I don’t find it very entertaining.”

Cassian clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “That’s because you’re the poor bastard raising her.”

Avey perked up at that, turning toward her father. “Poor?” She gasped dramatically. “Are we poor now?”

Azer, from his place against the doorway, howled with laughter. “No, but you might be by the time we leave.”

Eris shot him a sharp look, but before he could speak, Avey was already looking up at you, big-eyed and curious. “Mama, if we’re poor, does that mean I can’t get a pet?”

You groaned. Rhysand laughed. Azriel, standing in the corner, only shook his head.

“I’ll set up a damages account,” you muttered, half to yourself.

Eris pinched the bridge of his nose. “Make it a large one.”

Rhysand, still grinning, waved a lazy hand. “Oh, don’t bother. I’ll just send you the bill when you leave.”

Eris shot him a deadpan look. “How generous.”

Rhys chuckled, but before he could retort, Avey tugged at your sleeve. “Mama,” she whispered conspiratorially, “if we are poor, maybe Uncle Lucien will buy me a pet instead.”

Azer, barely holding in his laughter, leaned down. “Go ask him. See what he says.”

Eris pointed a warning finger at him. “You encourage her one more time, and I’ll—”

“What?” Azer challenged, smirking. “Throw me in the lake? Again?”

Avey gasped. “You threw him in the lake?”

Eris exhaled, long and slow. “I’m going to throw myself in the lake.”

Cassian, grinning, slung an arm over Eris’s shoulder. “If you do, at least make it entertaining for us.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Alright, enough.” She glanced down at Avey, then at you. “Dinner’s in an hour. Maybe keep this one occupied until then.”

You glanced at Avey, who beamed innocently up at you, hands clasped behind her back.

Occupied. Right.

You sighed, rubbing your temple. “Come on, troublemaker.” You took her hand, guiding her down the hall toward your rooms.

As you walked away, Azer called after you, voice full of laughter. “Don’t forget to set aside extra for the damages bill!”

You didn’t look back, but you did send a sharp glare over your shoulder. He only grinned.

You led Avey through the dimly lit hallways of the Night Court’s palace, your hand wrapped gently around her much smaller one. The echoes of chatter and laughter from the others faded behind you as you walked toward the guest wing.

Avey’s steps were light, nearly bouncing with each one, her seven-year-old energy never seeming to wane. She swung your hand back and forth, humming under her breath, her mind clearly still buzzing with whatever mischief she was planning next.

When you finally reached your room, you pushed open the heavy wooden door and guided her inside. The Night Court’s guest rooms were just as grand as you expected—deep purples and blues woven into the tapestries, the furniture dark and rich with elegant carvings. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering golden light against the walls.

Avey plopped herself onto the edge of the large bed without hesitation, kicking her feet back and forth as she looked around. “It’s pretty,” she admitted, tilting her head. “But our home is better.”

You smiled softly, sitting beside her. “Of course it is. Your father made sure of that.”

She huffed, crossing her arms. “I still don’t get why we have to stay here so long.”

You brushed a loose curl away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “It’s important. These alliances—”

“—are important for the court. I know.” She sighed dramatically, flopping back onto the bed. “But it’s boring.”

You laughed, smoothing a hand over her wild red hair. “You sound just like your brother.”

Avey perked up, her sharp little fox-like grin appearing. “Maybe Azer and I should ditch again.”

You gave her a look. “Absolutely not.”

She giggled, rolling onto her stomach and propping her chin on her hands. “Fine. What can we do then?”

You tapped a finger against her nose. “Well, for starters, I can fix your hair. It’s a mess.”

She gasped, swatting your hand away with an exaggerated scowl. “It is not!”

You simply arched a brow, reaching over to pluck a leaf from her curls. Her eyes widened slightly before she let out a sheepish giggle.

“Okay, maybe a little.”

You shook your head with a smile and patted your lap. “Come here, little fox.”

With a dramatic sigh, she scrambled up and settled herself in front of you, small and warm against your legs. As you reached for her hair, she leaned her head back to look up at you, grinning.

“Can you make it fancy?”

You smirked, already separating the strands. “Of course.”

You gently combed your fingers through Avey’s wild curls, smoothing them as best you could before you began weaving the strands into a proper braid. The firelight cast a soft glow over the room, warming the deep blues and purples around you.

“Alright,” you murmured, sectioning her hair with practiced ease. “But you have to sit still for this, Avey. No squirming.”

She sighed dramatically but didn’t argue, her little hands settling on her lap. For a few moments, she stayed perfectly still—until, of course, she didn’t.

Her foot started bouncing first, tapping lightly against the floor. Then she wiggled her shoulders, twisting slightly to look up at you. “How long is this going to take?”

You pressed a hand to her shoulder, turning her forward again. “It takes as long as you let me work.”

She groaned, but you felt her settle again, at least for a moment. As you began braiding, she suddenly whispered, “I am being calm.”

You snorted softly, fingers continuing their steady work. “Avey, you have not been calm a day in your life.”

She gasped, twisting again to look at you. “I have too!”

You lifted an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? When?”

She blinked, mouth opening and closing as she tried to think of an answer. “Um—yesterday.”

You tugged lightly at her braid, a teasing correction. “Yesterday, you and Azer stole one of your father’s hounds and tried to race it through the halls.”

Avey giggled, completely unrepentant. “Okay, fine. The day before yesterday.”

“The day before yesterday, you convinced a servant that the kitchens were on fire so you could sneak extra pastries.”

She burst into laughter, tipping forward slightly. “Oh yeah! That was a good one.”

You shook your head, exasperated but smiling. “You see my point?”

She huffed, dramatic as ever. “Fine. Maybe I don’t like sitting still.”

“I noticed,” you teased, giving her braid a final twist. “But you can learn. And tonight, I need you to at least try to be patient.”

Avey groaned, slumping slightly. “I hate patience.”

You chuckled, tying off the braid and running your fingers over the woven strands. “I know, little fox. But I also know you can do it.”

She turned slightly, peering up at you with bright, mischievous eyes. “Maybe if I try really hard…you’ll let me ditch again later?”

You flicked her ear, making her squeak. “Absolutely not.”

You turned Avey gently by the shoulders so she was facing you, her bright, mischievous eyes still sparkling with the remnants of her laughter. But you gave her a look—a serious one—and the smile on her face dimmed just a little.

“Avey,” you started, smoothing your hands over the tops of her braids, “I mean it this time. You really have to behave tonight.”

She groaned dramatically, tilting her head back. “Ugh, why does everyone keep saying that?”

“Because we know you,” you said simply, tapping a finger against her nose. “You and Azer are two sides of the same coin, and if I leave you to your own devices, I know you’ll get into trouble.”

Her lips pursed in a pout, arms crossing over her chest. “That’s not true. Azer gets into way more trouble than me.”

You lifted an eyebrow. “You lit your curtains on fire last month because you wanted to ‘see what would happen.’”

She flinched, eyes darting away. “That…that was an experiment.”

“Avey,” you said, voice patient but firm. “This isn’t just any visit. This is an important meeting between courts, and I need you to try to be calm and well-mannered. I know it’s hard for you to sit still, but you have to be polite.”

She let out a dramatic sigh, flopping back slightly. “But it’s so boring.”

You held back a smile, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “It doesn’t have to be. You’ll have Nyx and Annavella to keep you company. Even Andros and Evander will be there.”

Her face scrunched up. “Evander is mean.”

“He is not mean, he just likes teasing you because you react.”

She huffed, looking away. “Maybe.”

You tilted her chin back toward you, waiting until she met your gaze again. “Avey. I need your word. No tricks, no sneaking off, no setting things on fire.”

She blinked at you, silent for a long moment, before muttering under her breath, “That last one is very specific.”

“Because I know you,” you repeated, trying not to laugh.

She sighed again, but after a moment, she straightened her spine and looked you in the eye. “Fine. I promise.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Good. Because if you break that promise, your father will be the one dealing with you.”

Avey froze, eyes going slightly wide. “... You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

She swallowed, then nodded vigorously. “Okay. No sneaking. No tricks. No fire.”

“Good girl,” you murmured, smoothing down her dress one last time.

-----

Rhysand’s office was dimly lit, the warm glow from the lanterns casting flickering shadows across the mahogany desk and the deep violet curtains that framed the massive windows. Outside, the Night Court’s sky was inky black, stars glimmering like shattered diamonds, but inside, the air was thick with the scent of aged whiskey and crackling firewood.

Cassian leaned back in one of the plush armchairs, his boot propped up on the low table between them, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “So,” he drawled, eyes flicking toward Eris with a smirk, “how long until one of our kids tries to kill each other?”

Azriel, standing near the window, gave a soft huff of amusement but said nothing, simply taking a slow sip of his drink. His shadows curled lazily around his shoulders, as if even they were relaxed in the presence of old friends.

Rhysand, perched behind his desk, arched a brow at Eris, who was sitting opposite Cassian, fingers tapping against his glass in thought. “Azer and Annavella in the same house?” Rhys mused, his violet eyes gleaming. “I give it two days before something catches fire.”

Eris scoffed, lifting his drink to his lips. “If we’re being honest, I’m more worried about Avey.” He took a long sip before lowering the glass. “She’s seven, but she’s clever—and she’s the one Azer indulges the most.”

Cassian snorted. “Sounds familiar.” He shot a glance at Azriel, whose shadows rustled in what could only be amusement.

Azriel finally spoke, voice quiet but edged with dry humor. “Sounds like she gets it from you.”

Eris smirked, swirling his whiskey. “That girl was born scheming. I blame her mother.”

Rhysand chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned forward to pour himself another drink. “Speaking of, how is your mate handling all this? I imagine she’s already trying to keep Azer from fighting anyone before the night is over.”

Eris exhaled sharply through his nose. “She’s trying, but Azer…” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He has my temper. And your son has yours.”

Rhys’s smirk didn’t falter, but there was a knowing glint in his gaze. “He does. Which means we’re in for quite the next few days.”

Cassian clinked his glass against Azriel’s, grinning. “We should place bets.”

Azriel shot him a look, but there was amusement there, lurking beneath the usual shadows.

Eris simply groaned, tilting his head back against the chair. “If my son sets something on fire, I am not taking responsibility.”

Rhysand only laughed, lifting his drink. “We’ll see about that.”

BUT i think i might make this a series of the events of their kids growing up to be leaders....

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

I mean, Nardole is what got me to stop watching, given that the actor propelled his career with blackface, fatphobia and honestly just pissing on every marginalised community the UK currently contains, and it felt kinda cheap to use Doctor Who to launder his reputation (the same way it did when they put him on Bake Off)

It's so weird to me that both David Walliams and Matt Lucas have managed to create 'clean' careers after they started with Little Britain. Especially given that Walliams literally has a super injunction: meaning, he did something bad and not only did he get an injunction banning his victim from discussing it, he's also banned the press from mentioning that he has the injunction. And I mean, I suppose I'm answering my own question there, since if it can't be mentioned then of course no one knows about it; but even so.

I strongly suspect they both got away with it by being visibly queer. I also wonder at how David Walliams will continue to do so, though, given that his brand of queerness includes a lot of gender bending at a time when the UK is sporting a small but extremely loud and unfortunately empowered group of bigots who are engaged in a hysterical witch hunt against any sort of gender-bending. How long before JKR and her ilk put together that he wrote a children's book called The Boy in the Dress, and has a super injunction, you know? There will be a horrific amount of fallout for trans women when that day comes. No way are they not getting caught in that crossfire. The fact that Walliams is not a trans woman (and wouldn't be representative even if he were) will not be considered.

I should stress, of course - the nature of the super injunction means rumour is all we have. It could be as simple as he had an affair and doesn't want people knowing. It also can't be proven he has the damn thing; it's just one of those 'widely known but never discussed' things. Either way; time bomb

[astro-can]

Pjo x sbg art

Ashlyn is a legacy of Mars, the god of war. Mars is more disciplined, strategic, and warlike than his Greek counterpart, Ares. Ashlyn’s father is a son of Mars, and her mother is the legacy of Vulcan, which sort of makes her the legacy of Vulcan as well.

Ashlyn is a member of the Fifth Cohort. She is strong, fast, strategic, smart, and has the ability to control weapons.

NOW BEFORE YALL COME AT ME SAYING “oh Taylor would be a daughter of Hephaestus” LEMME EXPLAIN MYSELF.

I had to pick a god/ddess that would work for both of them because they’re twins.

Taylor and Tyler are the twin children of Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty. Taylor is empathetic, caring, kind, and beautiful. She is similar to Piper and Selina, as she represents Aphrodite’s good qualities.

Tyler, on the other hand, represents the more temperamental and warlike side of Aphrodite. He is bitter, short-tempered, and somewhat rude. He is similar to Drew Tanaka in the sense that he doesn’t really believe in “love” like his sister does. However, over time, he becomes softer and nicer. Tyler has been blessed by Ares, while Taylor has been blessed by Hephaestus.

They have been at CHB for three years. They are year-rounders.

Logan is the son of Ceres, goddess of agriculture. His parents are deceased, and his grandfather is the son of Mars. He is a member of the Fifth Cohort. His abilities include being able to control plants, and he has limited affinity over some weapons. Unlike a lot of his peers, his preferred weapon are guns.

Aidan is the son of Dionysus, god of wine and insanity. He doesn’t know who his real mother is, because she abandoned him when he was a baby. He was adopted into an absuive foster family but ran away, and ended up in CHB. There, he found out that he still had biological family left - his cousin Ben.

He is a year-rounder and has the ability to control vines (specifically grapevines) and to drive someone insane/make them sane again. He has been at CHB for around two years.

Ben is the son of Apollo, god of music, healing, archery, etc. He has a loving stepfather, mother, and younger stepsister. He doesn’t speak because of his damaged voice, and instead helps Will in the infirmary a lot. He’s liked by a lot of the Ares kids because he is strong.

His abilities include healing powers, amazing archery skills, a limited affinity over music, and being able to glow in the dark. He goes home during the winter, and often invites his biological cousin, Aidan, to come as well.

ANYHOO THESE ARE MY HEADCANONS, FEEL FREE TO DISAGREE RESPECTFULLY THANK YOU

[lov3-lik3-ghosts]

Hey would you write Cullens x reader headcannons on Valentine’s Day? It’s okay if not!

Month of Cupid

Warnings: Not proofread. Human!reader. Little bit of Y/n lore. Can be read as gn!r

Authors Note: Hii lovely! I bouldered my way through writers block to get this posted on the 14th. I hope you enjoy, have a very happy Valentine’s Day!

| mother m-list

• Dainty little flowers + Alice + traversing through the woods while gold beams through every nook, igniting her skin into millions of winking stars = Any sane person's dream.

That’s it. That’s the headcanon. There’s genuinely no other way I imagine a date with Alice is — soft and sweet and so so authentic that you honestly can’t believe she just… exists.

• Emmett’s the only one out of the Cullen’s that doesn’t think to ask you. You’re his already, surely you already know you’re each other valentine. Know that he has the best damn date of your life planned, filled with all your favourite things (which really was him and wherever he was) and a healthy dose of his thick arms locking over your shoulders as he forces you back into his chest.

He’s sweet… but a man like Emmett forgets how big he truly is

• Rosalie’s a hard woman to romance — you love a good chase, you’re no better than a man really and maybe it’s the fact that your mother never approved of any of your achievements or that you grew in a cold house with sparse affection but she’s sweet honey to your gaping wound. Soothing you with every drip drip drip of soft she is. So you do the romancing, plan the trip to the local volunteer centre with young children in need of external socialisation and after ask her to show you how the engine of her favourite car works and all its parts. She rolls her eyes but you see the soft twitch of her lips and the fondness in her gaze.

So yes, you put in some hard work but so does she. She’s soft and gentle with you and she whispers how much she appreciates all the effort you put into that day against your lips… after calling you out for staring at her under the car hood with your mouth agape

• Carlisle is all but your older rich husband but with actual benefits too. He’s traditional in most senses, he’s planning the date and paying for anything that it requires. If you travel, he drives. There’s a door, he’s opening it. The difference between him and ‘traditional’ men? He cares. And this February 14th is as good as any other with him, catered to everything you love, sweet and soft with candlelight and roses.

He loves making you happy, he claims, and you believe him but if you show him just how appreciative you are at the end of the night… well, who is he to complain?

• Edward’s somehow cohabiting both ‘unsure lover’ and ‘yeah. I know you. Why’re you surprised?’. Well, don’t know Ed, not like you can read minds. He’s sweet, he’s always sweet in some awkwardly charming sort of way and the way he wines and dines you is no different than that exactly. A nice, odd concoction of everything about him you love. Including his silly little tendency to still do human things. Yeah, he’s actually taken you out to eat and he’s actually staring pretty creepily in your eyes and through to your soul. You find you don’t really mind when you catch why he’s honing in on you, hanging onto your every word

• Jasper “from the south” Hale isn’t wasting a damn second when you suggest going line dancing. He hasn’t danced in a good long while and he’s rusty and he can’t teach you when you ask him too; you thought it was perfect timing. You’re both clumsy on your feet when you start the night off but he gains his footing quick and honestly, you kinda just wanna watch him dance and drool in the corner as though he wasn’t taking you home tonight and was a mere fever dream, lost to the winds. The smirk curling his lips tells you he knows exactly what’s you’re feeling

• Esme, the little sweetheart, asks if you want to bake with her and then binge medically realistic hospital shows. You’re about to propose something a little more inclusive, without food and coughing patients but she looks so hopeful and honestly, you don’t care what you do if it’s with her. So you bake, she enjoys the sweet aroma of fresh baked cookies and you eat your (her, really) masterpiece. The show is paused and unpaused between on topic banter or questions, you cuddled under her arm with her head under your chin and it’s a perfect representation of your relationship all around. Pure and tender

• Poly!Cullens make it all about you. You’re so young and fresh to the world and you need to be shown the importance of love and understanding and unconditional companionship.

They’ve all had their moments over the years, will have their moments again in the years to come but for now they’ll teach you the truth of love without expectance. Whatever you want, you all can find a way to participate somehow, someway.

Though, you jest, should probably keep the hearts under wraps. Wouldn’t wanna set off any vampires!

~ 𐀔 ~ 𐀔 ~ 𐀔 ~

P.s. I know valentines is usually considered romantic but I want to remind those without external romance right now that self romance is just as precious. Do something nice for yourself! You’re very loved <3

[creampill]

Konig x teacher reader and he helps her build stuff in her classroom! Like she’s writing lesson plans and he’s over here breaking a sweat trying to build cubby’s for kindergartners

Oh my goodness. Personal note, while I do want to teach, I want to be a professor. I could never manage small children when teaching. But through König, anything is possible.

I’d imagine this takes place on an afternoon. A sort of after-school-care situation where your classroom becomes a place for kids to have eyes kept on them before their parents come pick them up. König is a personal friend of yours, and when you’d mentioned wanting to finally get around to building the new playset you’d gotten for your classroom, he’s on it instantly. He has the afternoon free, he can accompany you. Think of it as a casual favour from a friend.

It’s one of those colourful plastic monstrosities, a little slide and steps with a little play sensory board on its side. The slide and the steps are something you can handle, just pop socket A into opening B and screw things in. But the sensory board has a ton of little fiddley pieces that need to be strung and slotted and put in right. Parts that spin and rattle and flip around- tons of fun for the little ones, but a pain to set up given the playset’s lacklustre instructions.

So there you are, sat at your desk, moving between your laptop and your notebook as you fix schedules and lesson plans. And across the room, giant figure hunched over, sits König. On the colourful city-themed rug, surrounded by little plastic tidbits as he gets the playset together.

He’s got that focus in his eyes, thick eyebrows knit together, a little scrunch over the hill of his nose. Entirely in his zone, every victory heralded by an excited ‘ah!’ or failure by a frustrated ‘bah.’ He hadn’t even noticed you staring at him, watching the way he scratched his stubble when he thought, or eyeing that dark hair peeking out from the wrist of his jumper.

You both notice, however, when a chubby little hand grabs for one of the segments on the ground next to him.

On instinct, your mouth opens, Teacher Voice ready to get the kid to let him be-

But it dies.

Because König snickers. “What are you doing, hm?”

The kid, with her big eyes and impressive head of unmanageable curls, looks up fast. She’s about four, and she holds the little segment in her fist like it was her birthright.

“Lellow is my favourite.” She replies. Indeed, the plastic she was thumbing was yellow.

König gives her a little lopsided grin. “Yellow? Your favourite?”

The little girl (Elsie, your mind finally supplies), nods, eyes settling on the other colourful blocks in front of König.

“I like yellow, too,” He murmurs. His voice is soft, the softest you’ve ever really heard it, a lilt to it.

Elsie nods again, shuffling. She kept her hands on the yellow piece.

König looks out over the pieces. Segments of a little rainbow spinner toy, meant to be strung together and then attached to the playset. A segment of which was currently being held hostage by a toddler.

He makes a soft hum in the back of the throat, a ‘hm’ sound of confusion, and Elsie looks up a slightly.

“Yellow. What comes after yellow..?” He mumbles, arranging the segments in front of him in different patterns. He huffs, furrowing his brow dramatically.

“Green.” Elsie supplies eventually, pointing to the green block. “Green after lellow.”

König’s frown breaks into a sunshine smile, “oh, you’re right! Yes. What after that?”

You watch with a warm feeling in your chest as Elsie plops herself down next to König. “Blue.” She nods matter-of-factly. She still has the yellow block in her grasp, but her previously hunched in shoulders have relaxed.

“Mhm, you’re right,” König nods, leaning back on his hands. “You’re good at this.”

Elsie makes a motion that almost looks like well, of course I am, before reaching out and organising the rest of the segments into rainbow order. Including the yellow one, setting it down between the orange and green.

“Thank you.” König says. He grabs the wooden rod that goes between the blocks, “could you put them all on this for me?”

Elsie nods again, grabbing all of the blocks and adding them onto the rod in the order she’d laid them out. She presents it to him with a proud puff or her chest.

König grins, congratulates her, and Elsie finally caves and cracks a giddy smile.

The floodgates are open from there. She goes from nervous fiddling to talking his ears off, acting as his ‘little helper’ as he continues with building the playset. He listens with nods and hums of affirmation, ‘oooh’s and ‘wow’s, and by the time Elsie’s parent comes to pick her up, she’s waving him off like she’d known him for years.

And he waves back, eyes crinkled at the corners.

When he looks at you, he huffs. “What?”

You’re grinning like a fool, chest blooming with joy, “you ever considered going into childcare?”

He scoffs, shaking his head and going back to his construction task. “I’m not good with kids.”

You break into laughter so loud he startles- but then König laughs along with you.

💖 I’m open for requests and commissions

[yeonmuse]

Okiiii can you do a like toxic yandere hoon and naive reader

Jealousy

ᥫ᭡ f!reader x brothers best friend sunghoon ── 𝒢enre. yandere non idol enha. not proofread. Wc 4.2k feats. ot7 [reqs are closed, inbox full] ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁ibrary

authors notes. I hope this is to your liking, I’ve never really written anything yandere before so this is me sort of testing the waters? I wasn’t sure if you wanted this to be a smut or angst since you didn’t include that but if this wasn’t isn’t to your liking let me know when my inbox is open so that i can try again

Your family had known the parks for quite some time, having moved to Korea when you were only four they had been the first to introduce themselves upon your arrival. A family of four, a sweet couple, their son and their beautiful baby girl. Your older brother and their son seemed to have bonded together really quickly, sparking jealousy from you having had your brother taken away from you when he was all you’d ever had to hang out with. Growing up Sunghoon had always been there, he’d become like a second brother to you, always looking out for you, walking you to and from the bus stop where your brother couldn’t or buying you snacks with his own money when you had none to buy your own.

Sunghoon and you had been quite close, though not as close enough as he and your brother, you'd been close enough to know every detail about him and chose versa. Or at least you’d thought you’d known everything. Sunghoon had always been fond of you, that was exactly why he’d taken care of you as well as he had, not simply because you were his best friends sister, but because he thought you were cute, like an innocent little angel that he could take care of to make himself feel like the perfect gentleman. Of course when other girls had seen how he’d treated you, they’d all take notice of him.

Though his little scheme and use of having you be his little doll had all fallen apart when he’d found out from your brother that you’d be going abroad for the last 2 years of highschool. Some stupid study program that he’d not been listening to your brother go into detail about, all he cared about was how it would affect his rep. You’d be gone and that meant he’d have to protect his rep all on his own.

Upon returning to school after your departure Sunghoon found that there was no more work to be done, many girls had already set their eyes upon him, many girls including the principal's daughter. An opportunity that Sunghoon wouldn’t dare pass up on, after all the two of them would look perfect together.

Sunghoon and Julie had been dating ever since, him having officially asked her to be his girlfriend during graduation after their constant on and off. Sunghoon hadn’t expected that he’d have been questioning his decision within only hours of asking Julie to be his.

Both the parks and your family had been gathered together in celebration of their children having graduated. Each of them lost in their own conversations including Sunghoon who’d had Julie sat at his side, her head resting on his shoulder as she mindlessly scrolled through her phone. Sunghoons attention had been on some party that he and your brother had been talking about until his eyes caught sight of a girl sneaking up behind him. Sunghoon wanted to open his mouth to say something, but the girl almost instantly shushed him, making his mouth fall closed and his brows furrowed in confusion.

Your flight had just landed back in korea, having been abroad in italy for two years it felt almost weird to finally be back. You wondered how much had changed, if your brother had still hung with sung hoon, if he’d made any new friends or gotten himself a girlfriend. You yourself had surely changed, though still as shy and timid as you were, you had grown far more since leaving korea. You’d become comfortable in your own skin, that comfort leading to an endless fashion sense that knew no bounds and a heightened confidence. Your appearance surely gave that of an adult woman now. The only thing that hadn’t seemed to change about you had been your height.

When you’d finally arrived at the restaurant address you felt your nerves building up so much you thought they’d spill from your pores if they could. You hadn’t known why you’d suddenly grown nervous, maybe it was because part of you thought your brother had made new friends and completely forgotten about you. The moment you stepped inside your nerves only seemed to heighten as you spotted him sitting next to your parents, Sunghoon having been sat across from him though in that moment you were too focused on surprising your brother to realize just how much Sunghoon had also grown up.

“I can’t believe you’ve already started eating without me.” The sound of your voice makes your brother's head turn so fast you’d think he’d get whiplash.

“Yn!?” All of your nerves seem to wash away as your brother lifts you up into his arms and hugs you tightly. His little sister had finally returned home.

Sunghoon on the other hand was completely shocked to say the least, he hadn’t even recognized you when he’d seen you, but upon closer look he realized it had definitely been you. The freckles on your skin and beauty marks had given it away.

His little doll had grown up, maybe a little too much.

The rest of the dinner seemed to zoom by now that you had arrived. Everyone including your brother is listening intently to each of your stories from abroad, even your brother despite this being his night, your own graduation not for another week. Meanwhile Sunghoon found his thoughts drifting to other places, despite his girlfriend having been sat at his side engaged in conversation all he could do was look at you. How beautiful you looked sat across from him in your dress, your curls slicked back, with the lightest amount of makeup painted on your face. You were no longer just the sweet little girl from next door, or his best friend's sister, you were now in full bloom and he found himself taking notice of it a lot more.

The following night Sunghoon had shown up to your house to find you making your way out the door.

“Oh Sunghoon.” As distracting as your smile had been, Sunghoons had wandered everywhere but your face, taking in your outfit and every dip and curve as if he was to memorize it all.

“Nicos waiting for you upstairs.”

“Are you not staying?”

“Hm? Oh no I’m going out with a few friends but I’ll be back later tonight.”

‘A few friends’ you hadn’t even been in Korea the last two years so what friends could you have possibly known well enough to be going out with?

Sunghoon stood there quietly, his lips pressed together as if he wanted to say something but he decided to remain quiet.

“Oh he’s here.”

Sunghoon didn’t know what primal instincts had awoken in him all of a sudden, but upon hearing the word he spilled from your lips he’d sworn he saw a flash of red and his hand clasped around your wrist.

“I haven’t seen you in two years and you’re already leaving so soon.”

“Sunghoon is not like I won't be back, I’ll be here the next two days.” You respond by returning his gaze with one of your own, along with a smile. Seemingly you're completely unaware of the sudden shift in SungHoon's mood and expression.

If you had been anyone else you’d have melted under his gaze. Back then if he’d have told you to stay you would have without second thought, though now you had your own mind, and friends which meant he no longer had that control. Though he should have been happy to see you out making friends and growing out of your shell, he didn’t like it one bit.

His jaw clenched as he watched you walk away and slip into the cherry red car parked in front of your driveway.

Sunghoon knew it wasn’t right, lying to your brother that is but he couldn’t stop his curiosity from getting the best of him once he had found that the ‘friends’ you had been hanging out with consisted of 3 guys. Having found out from your instagram location where you were he’d lied to your brother and told him he had errands to run just to get out of hanging with him, all to get to you. Sunghoon watched from afar, how happy you looked bowling with them, how you would leap into one of their arms each time you scored a strike. It made his eyes twitch in annoyance. You had once been that way with him, back then he’d been the only guy you’d ever trust and now here you stood with three new friends not one female friend in sight.

He thought you were so stupid, so naive to trust anyone that wasn’t him. They didn’t know you as well as he had, nor had they taken care of you like he once did. So why is it that you had chosen to hang out with them over him and your brother?

Even as Sunghoon returned home he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Tomorrow he’d make sure he was the one you spent time with, not whoever the guys were from tonight. As his eyes peeked outside his window and landed upon your own he found you sitting in your bed with a book in hand. That was one thing that hadn’t changed about you at least, your late night reading habits that he’d always find himself admiring even back then.

He wondered if anything else about you had changed, if you’d ever thought about him in the ways he’s thought about you. If you’d ever touched yourself or thought about it to the thought of him or anyone else. Though the thought of you thinking of someone else with your hands on your pretty little body only seemed to piss him off and his thoughts began to form even worse scenarios. Have you given yourself to someone already? Have you done things with others while you were abroad? The thought of his sweet little doll, having her innocence stripped away by someone that wasn’t him made him sick to his stomach.

The following day you had kept your promise to sunghoon, your promise of spending time with him and your brother rather than going out. Sunghoon found himself wishing that it had just the you though, as much as he’d loved your brother he wanted to have you all to himself. Even if the two you hadn’t seen each other in years he didn’t like sharing you even if the person he was sharing with happened to be your brother. The moment your phone rang, stripping your attention away from the movie you’d been watching, Sunghoons gaze followed you as you pushed yourself up from the couch and walked off into the kitchen.

“A party? I don’t know… I promised my brother and his friend I’d spend time with them tonight.”

“Jake”

“Fine, what time does it end? I’ll just come when the two of them fall asleep.”

Sunghoon had heard the entire thing, having told your brother he had been going to the bathroom when in actuality was simply listening in on your phone call. He’d waited for the moment your brother fell asleep to glance over at you who’d already been glancing over at nico to see if he had fallen asleep. As your eyes shift to Sunghoon he closes his eyes, not wanting you to realize he’d been awake the entire time. They remained closed even as he heard the shuffling of your feet followed by the door opening and shutting. He moved pretty quickly, throwing the blanket off his body to the side and trailing your own movements right out the door.

Thanks to one of your little friends from the bleeding alley having posted the location of the party on his Instagram, Sunghoon found you with ease. Seeming to have found you just in time as one of your little guy friends had you throwing back drink after drink with his hand wrapped around your waist. Sunghoon had completely blacked out at that point. Completely missing the shocked and then frightened look on your face as a group of people had to force him off of the guy who he’d nearly beaten to death.

And now here he was dragging you from the party ignoring your whimpering and whining from the way his nails dig into your skin.

“Sunghoon you’re hurting me!” Finally snapping he slams you aside his car door, his arms caging you in between him.

“Are you fucking stupid? Do you even realize what could have happened to you?”

“It was only a few shots”

“Who made the shots? Did you make them yourself? Who asked you to take them or did you just volunteer to take them all on your own?” You immediately fell silent and that within itself was a given answer.

“Still as naive as you were then, nothing in your pretty little head. I swear it's just empty.”

“I’m not some little girl you can just order around anymore, Sunghoon.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I'm not your puppet, I know you were using me back then.”

“Using you?”

“For girls.”

“You think you’re such a smart sweetheart, I was taking care of you because you were my best friend's sister, exactly like I am now.” While his words themself had been a complete lie Sunghoons gaze and tone of voice had told a different story. He had a way of twisting and bending the truth that had always sounded believable to you. As manipulative as he had been you’d never realized because you had always given him the false title of yet another brother, someone that only wanted to protect you. Your false idle gazing blinded you to the fact that he was only ever manipulative and controlling when it had come to you.

“What would have happened if I’d not shown up and he’d done something to you? His hands were already on your waist. What's stopping him from going further?”

“He- he wouldn’t do that..”

“Then would he usually touch you like that?” Once again you feel quiet.

“You can’t trust everyone yn, you can’t expect everyone to take care of you like nico..like me.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right.”

His fingers gently brush across your cheek, as you stared up at him with apologetic eyes.

“Can you take me home?”

The entire ride back to your place had been silent. Sunghoon had left you feeling guilty for having left the house, while Sunghoon on the other hand had you exactly where he wanted to have you. Sunghoon now has furthermore things to dangle over your head if you’ve ever thought to break another promise to him. Something to use to his advantage if ever needed.

“Are you going to tell nico?”

“What if I did tell him? Tell him that his little sisters found new friends that have her drinking and throwing back shots when she hasn’t even turned 21 yet.”

“Please don’t tell him, please he’ll be disappointed.”

“Should have thought of that before you went out and did it, waited for him to fall asleep just so you could sneak out too.” Sunghoon sucks, hits teeth and shakes his head.

“Sunghoon.”

“I should tell your parents too, their daughter flew all the way just to party and drink with a house full of people I’m sure she doesn’t know.” Your subtle pleading turned into begging and Sunghoon felt something in him stir at the sound of you pleading for him not to say a word.

“Stay away from them.”

“What?”

“The guys from the party, stay away from them and ill keep your little secret to myself.”

“You can’t just tell me to-.”

“I wonder if Nico is awake now, I should call him. Tell him I’m on the way with you.”

“I'll stay away!”

“Perfect.”

From that night forward you kept your promise, Sunghoon made sure of it. He followed you everywhere, stalked your every social account, even stalked your schools official websites and updated socials once you had returned to school for graduation. He’d make sure that until the moment you returned home where he could keep a closer eye on you, that you’d keep your promise to not speak to any of them. He’d imbedded it in your head that neither of them could be trusted, that if it wasn’t him, the guy you’d known since the age of four you’d need to keep away.