#she’s 7 years younger than him… and considers him to be her brother

[pictureswithboxes]

I like torturing Miles Edgeworth as much as the next person. But some of y’all are going overboard…

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Heyy hiii I love your blog🤍 If you're still taking requests... Could you write an Aemond Targaryen who is obsessed with his half-sister or aunt?

(Fuck yes I can!

For this story the ages are a little off which frustrates me but I did that to make sure that Y/n wouldn’t be considered ‘too old’ to marry. If however, the person who made this request wants something with an older OFC, like a cougar-y kind of story with him obsessed and willing to do anything to have her then let me know and I will try my hand at that for you)

Y/n had been born first just before her mother Aemma had died giving birth her twin brother, who sadly died just a few hours later, leaving Y/n alone.

Rhaenyra took very good care of her, as much as she could as her younger sister was just a babe and now had no mother and no father as Viserys had all but checked out…especially after marrying Alicent and having more children.

Y/n was only just under 1 year older than Aegon as Alicent had gotten pregnant almost immediately after the wedding however as Rhaenyra was having her own children she took care of her sister less and less, leaving the girl on her own a lot of the time. Alicent had taken a liking to the young girl and they were quite close, which is what led to Y/n and Aemond’s relationship in the first place. Aemond loved Y/n from the moment he was born. When he was with her he was always content and happy, but if she left him alone he would cry and scream for her until Alicent could no longer take it and sent for her once again. That lasted until the boy was about 3 and she was 6 and from then on he was basically attached to her skirts.

Neither of the children had a dragon to their name and spent their time dreaming of flying across the 7 kingdoms together. Aemond had always promised to take his half sister with him when he mounted a dragon one day, and though Y/n thought it a nice dream, Aemond was determined to make it come true. He swore to her that one day he would be strong and that he would protect her, no one would ever bully them again. Y/n did not know just how seriously her younger brother took that vow.

He was 9 years old when Rhaenyra moved to Dragonstone and snatched his happiness away as she took their 12 year old sister with her and it was at that moment that Aemond realized how in love with his sister he really was. She would be his, no matter what he had to do to ensure it.

When they met again on Driftmark it was like no time had passed, they stayed by each others side while everyone mourned, but Aemond wasn’t sad, he was determined. With the death of Laena there was now an unclaimed dragon, the largest one alive and he was going to claim her or die trying. To say Y/n was upset that he risked his life to mount Vhagar would be an understatement however he had done it and the pride and happiness on his face wiped away her anger…for about 10 minutes before watching her nephew slice her brothers eye from his head. She held close to his side for as long as she was allowed, holding his hand as the maester stitched him up painfully.

‘I do not wish to frighten you with my scarred face sister, you shouldn’t have to see this.’ He told her later that night as she sat beside his bed to watch over him, the milk of the poppy he had taking quick effect as his good eye began to close against his wishes.

‘You could never scare me brother, you are as handsome as ever and anyone who says otherwise is blind. I will never fear you, no matter what. I love you too dearly.’ She swore, curling up into her chair and drifting off by his side in case he needed anything during the night.

Aemond’s hand held tight to hers all night long, never letting go as if terrified, even in his sleep, that she would disappear.

Aemond was comforted by her words and it is the only thing that got him through the next years. That and the fact that he had “convinced” his sickly father to betroth Y/n to him.

Aemond was told by the men he paid to keep watch over his Princess on Dragonstone that Rhaenyra had been trying to betroth her to Cregan Stark of Winterfell. The Wolf in the North was apparently quite taken with his Princess and Aemond couldn’t blame him, but he would kill him if the man went anywhere near his sister and he made that perfectly clear to his mother and Grandsire. Aemond had vowed that if they didn’t betroth him to Y/n immediately that he would take Vhagar and have her burn Winterfell and every Stark in existence to the ground. He would melt all of the snow in the North if he had to to make his point. Both Alicent and Otto knew that her son was serious and would do exactly as he promised, they also knew that no one could stop Vhagar if Aemond decided to put his threat into action and so they had the King order the marriage.

However other than Rhaenyra acknowledging the order from the King, he heard no word from his betrothed until he was 18 and it was ordered that she return to Kings Landing to be with her soon to be husband. Aemond had kept eyes on her since the day she had been forced to leave him, men that worked for Rhaenyra were secretly under his command, 2 of which became Y/n’s personal guards and wrote the Prince everything about her so that Aemond didn’t miss a thing. He knows all of her interests, what she loves to do everyday, her daily schedule, the foods she likes and more importantly doesn’t like, and he also had them ensure that no man got close to his future wife in anyway. He knew that Jace had an interest in his aunt, the guard reporting to him that the boy had been grounded to his chambers on more than one occasion for watching her bathe or trying to sneak into her rooms in the night and it both enraged and delighted Aemond that Jace wanted his sister but also that he would have to see her happy with the person that Jace hates most. Aemond would ensure that he could rub it in his nephews face that the babes that Y/n would bare would never be anyone’s but his.

Over the years since she had been gone her brother had changed, not just at her having been missing from his side but especially after Aegons actions in taking him to the silk streets on his 13th nameday. Aemond felt disgusting but he was determined to be a better husband than his elder brother was, after all, Y/n was his. His sister, his wife, his everything and he would ensure her happiness. He would make her his and fill her with as many Targaryen babies as possible, Aemond couldn’t wait to see her swollen with his child at his side and in his bed, his elder sister was just too perfect not to be full of his children for the rest of her days.

2 days after the letter was sent to Rhaenyra he was greeted by the sound of huge wings and angry dragon roars as the large black dragon descended on the Red Keep, a dragon that everyone recognized instantly which prompted them scattering like mice. Aemond had heard that his sister had mounted the cannibalistic dragon but to actually see the creature was incredible. He found it funny that his sister, who was a loner with a tendency to be aggressive ended up with the aggressive loner dragon who would have burned anyone else to dust…he must feel how similar they are, honestly it was a fairly perfect fit if you asked him. Though he could have done without the teeth bore in his face from this scarred beast.

He got as close as he dared, watching as a beautiful women slid down the dragons neck to her feet, the dragon nuzzling her and nearly knocking her from her feet (though the gesture was gentle for such a giant dragon who had to be just slightly bigger than Caraxes) before he took to the skies again and left her to look around the courtyard.

She was a vision, more than Aemond could have imagined after all these years without her and as she turned to see him for the first time, the smile that lit up her face gave him butterflies. ‘Aemond? Wow! Look how you’ve grown, you are certainly not that little boy I remember anymore, you are a man grown! Look at this handsome face!’ Aemond took her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles in greeting, unable to look away from her perfect purple eyes.

‘You are a vision, more beautiful than I could have imagined…and I have imagined for years.’ Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink as she blushed and he held his arm out for her to take. ‘Come, I will show you to your chambers and you can freshen up, I know you must want out of your riding clothes-‘

‘Actually…I had hoped we could go riding together like we always promised we would. My sister would not let me come to Kings Landing before now but you did swear to take me on Vhagar when I returned.’ She reminded him as he guided her through the halls of the castle.

‘I could never forget my promise to you, however we will not be permitted to disappear together the night before our wedding, it would be improper after all.’ He teased making her roll her eyes with a smile.

‘Right because riding a 10 ton scaly lizard into the night is definitely a romantic evening.’ She paused after saying that before speaking again. ‘Actually, never mind, for a Targaryen that has to be the most romantic night possible. We’ll save it for tomorrow night.’

‘As you wish sister. Here is your chamber for the night, tomorrow night your things will be moved into one of our own. You change and get comfortable, I will return in a half an hour and we can take a walk in the gardens, how does that sound?’

‘That sounds lovely brother. I look forward to it.’ Aemond leaned down and pressed his lips to her hand like the gentleman he was, watching once again as her face grew pink and he loved her sweet blush, vowing to make it happen as often as possible.

The wedding that next evening was a huge affair. Everyone was present, members of every house in attendance for the event, and even all of the peasants celebrated as they left the Sept, throwing flowers and cheering their congratulations as they had all loved Y/n since the moment she was presented to the world as a baby (often ordering the gold cloaks to feed the poor, especially the children in need). Rhaenyra and Daemon had shown up with the children late, clearly hating being there for a marriage they didn’t want and Aemond couldn’t help but silently gloat to Jace who glared at him all through dinner. As they locked eyes Aemond could not resist giving in to his petty attitude, leaning down and touching his lips to his wife’s and enjoying the feel of her lips pressing against his in return as she clearly enjoyed the show of affection. His nephew glared harder at him before eventually taking Helaena’s hand and bringing her to dance as if trying to anger the One-Eyed Prince but nothing could do that right now, not now that Aemond has everything he’s ever wanted.

‘Would you like to retire now my beautiful wife? I want to make this marriage official before one of the dozens of men here that are jealously staring, attempts to steal you away from me.’

‘As if anyone else could take my attention away from you.’ At that moment there was suddenly the sound of several women screaming and they both turned to see that right in front of the Kings table Jace was locked in a physical fight with a man on the dance floor. Aemond turned his wife’s body away and pulled her to his chest to shield her, not wanting her innocent eyes to see such violence. Even if he enjoyed watching Jace get hurt he knew that his wife would never be the same if she was forced to potentially witness him die and he loved her innocence too much to let that be ruined. The guards pulled the man out of the hall and most likely to the Black Cells after Daemon had saved Jace from being butchered, following along with a rage filled Rhaenyra to question the man. Y/n pulled away from her husband and moved to the floor, inspecting her nephews face and Aemond nearly growled as Jace leaned into the affection. ‘Are you alright nephew?!’

‘Yes, of course, I am fine. I had it under con-‘

‘Thank goodness Daemon was here! You could have been killed! What were you thinking?!’ She demanded and Aemond watched on as Jace’s face fell once again. ‘You are my sweet nephew, not a soldier or a brawler in the streets!’

‘I don-I’m-Uh…‘

‘She is right nephew, we could never forgive ourselves if you had been hurt attending our wedding…perhaps it is time for you to retire for the evening. Too much wine makes the mind do stupid things.’ Y/n nodded along with Aemond but Jace just glared at him.

‘This has nothing to do with you Uncle! Keep your thoughts to yourself! I don’t need-‘

‘Jacaerys! How Dare You?! Have care how you speak to your own family, Aemond is simply showing his concern for your well being! If this is your current state then he is correct, you should retire. I’m sure Luke will help you to your bed, won’t you sweet boy?’ Luke nodded his head, moving to take his elder brothers arm.

‘No! I don’t need to-‘

‘We should be retiring as well anyway. I must ensure my new wife is taken care of…’ Y/n blushed at her brothers words, leaning into his body as his hands found her waist comfortingly.

‘You are right brother, I think I have had enough partying for one day. We have a family dinner tomorrow evening anyway, we can celebrate more then.’ Suddenly Aegon, who had been drunkenly enjoying this whole situation, was grinning in excitement and stepping up to the newly weds, hand on his younger brothers shoulder.

‘Yes brother, time to retire. The bedding ceremony must be seen to before the end of the evening! I shall get our Grandsire and elder sister to-‘

‘No!’ Aemond snapped, everyone that was listening jumping in fright at the rage in his voice. He had felt his wife’s body tense as she pulled him closer by his jacket that she was now clinging to for dear life. ‘There will be no bedding ceremony, I will have neither my sister nor my wife gawked at in her most vulnerable state as if she is some cheap whore on the street of silk! Y/n is my wife now, and no one else will ever see her in such a way ever again. I assure you brother, I can handle consummating my marriage just fine without your wandering eyes and words of encouragement.’ Aemond looked back down at his bride and took her face into his hands, wiping away the tears that escaped in her moment of panic, no one having mentioned a bedding ceremony and Aemond himself having assured her that it would not be happening.

‘My young Prince, it is tradition to have a maester and at least 3 members of the family present to ensure the wedding is consummated. Your brother, myself, Rhaenyra and Daemon are going to-‘

‘No Grandsire, you are not-because if you try to enter our marital chambers tonight, or really any night from this moment forward for any reason under the sun, I will break your spine and be feeding you to either Vhagar or the Cannibal in the morning. I will let my wife decide which she would prefer to make a meal out of your body as it is her you are offending. I am uncomfortable with how determined you are to watch me make love to my wife, and I am telling you that it will not happen.’

‘Aemond! You cannot speak to your Grandsire this way, you must-‘ Aemond cut his mother off quickly, startling her as he had never spoken to her like this before.

‘Do not make the mistake of believing my words to be exaggeration mother, they are not. Anyone who steps foot into our marital chambers this night or any moment from this one onward will find themselves being fed to a dragon of my wife’s choosing. She is my wife! And it is my job to care for her as such! I will not have her humiliated or upset as she gives herself to me for the first time…or any time. That is the end of the discussion, however you may wait in the hall and once we are done I will deliver you the sheets from our bed as your proof. That will have to suffice because it is all that you are getting.’ He looked back down at Y/n who had tears in her eyes once again but this time they were not fearful or embarrassed, but grateful and full of love. ‘Come my wife, it is time that I make this marriage official and fill you with my son. I must give my wife all of the lovely Targaryen babies that her heart desires.’

Aemond bent down slightly before lifting Y/n into his arms like a babe, whisking her away and out of the party. ‘Thank you Aemond…I know I should just accept it but I-‘

‘My wife will never be seen by anyone but me in any state of undress from this moment on, and should anyone sneak a peak at you I will deliver you their heart and feed the remains to Vhagar. Don’t you ever apologize for being uncomfortable, it is my job as your husband to see to your safety and I take my job very seriously.’ He assured her, kissing her head as they reached their new marital chambers where all of their things had been moved to. As Aemond carried his sister through the door he kicked it shut behind himself and locked it with both locks before using the thick wood plank and barring the door so no one could get in without more work than it was worth.

‘Will you assist me with the dress, husband?’ She teased making Aemond smirk, eyes darkening at the thought of finally undressing the prize he has worked and waited for, for so long.

‘You need not even ask, my love. Come here.’ He quickly unlaced the back of her dress, allowing it to fall to the ground and leave her in her small clothes which she removed before crawling into the bed and looking back up at him nervously. ‘Relax my love, you will love every second of this, I promise you.’ He swore and she took a breath, nodding, though her eyes grew wide again as he removed his trousers and revealed himself to her for the first time, now naked as he crawled onto the bed, leaning down to kiss her, sucking his way down her neck and chest.

‘A-Aemond? What are you-‘

‘Shh…just relax. I’m going to take care of you Princess, just trust me.’ He lifted her leg up by the back of the knee and leaned in, pressing his mouth over her slit before trailing his tongue up between her pussy lips and brushing against her clit, causing her hips to jump against her will.

‘I’m s-sorry-‘

‘Don’t apologize again, just enjoy it.’ Aemond wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking on the little bundle of nerves, brushing his tongue against it repeatedly which seemed to shut her up quickly, the only sound remaining was her never ending moans. He pressed a finger into her tight hole followed by a second one which earned him a soft mewling noise that he couldn’t help thinking was adorable as he began pumping his fingers in and out of her, stretching her as gently as he could to prepare her for him.

‘Oh Fuck! Aemond!’ She seemed to be hanging right on the edge in that moment until he curled his fingers up and just as he did she cried out at a whole new octave and her pussy squeezed his fingers in a vice grip, her body shaking while she panted as if she had run a long distance and he couldn’t help but find her flushed face absolutely beautiful.

‘You are so gorgeous…’ he crawled up over her and touched his lips to hers while spreading her legs. They wrapped around his waist before he pressed his cock against her hole and instantly felt as if he had died and gone to Heaven. 9 years he had waited after realizing how in love with Y/n he truly was, 9 years dreaming of this moment and wanting to make it just as special for her as it was for him just knowing how good his sister would make him feel, and he was right. Her cunt was like the sweetest vice grip he had ever experienced, he had never felt anything more wonderful in his entire life as he stilled his hips and just waited, not wanting to hurt her or cum so fast that she would inevitably laugh at him. ‘Are you alright?’ He questioned, wanting to make sure he wasn’t hurting her too badly but she nodded.

‘I want to see all of you brother…I never want you to hide any part of you from me again.’ She spoke as she reached up and pulled the eye patch from his face. He reflexively turned his head away but she caught him, turning his head back and pulling him down to kiss the scar both over and under his eye. ‘My husband nor my brother will ever have to hide from me, you are so strong…and I think my husband is the most handsome man in the 7 kingdoms. I will fight anyone who chooses to disagree with me…and I have a Dragon so they will most assuredly lose.’ She teased making him smile before he choked on his breath, her pussy squeezing his member suddenly before she wiggled her hips. ‘Take me brother, I am all yours now!’

‘Yes you are…Mine! I will kill anyone who even thinks to disagree with me! All mine…’ Aemond spoke, shifting his hips back before pushing back in gently, doing it again only to thrust up into her this time. ‘Your husband is going to fill your belly so full tonight that no one will be able to question whether or not you are carrying my son. You want that, don’t you Princess? You want me to give you a baby?’

Y/n’s head nodded frantically as Aemond was now jack hammering his hips into her mercilessly, her whines prompting him to go faster. ‘Yes Brother! Yes! I want to give you everything! Fill my womb so that I may give you all the sons you want!’

‘Never going to stop breeding your cunt, Gods you feel magnificent! We’re going to end up having an entire army because I am never going to stop fucking you! Cum for me Princess and your husband will fill your womb, give me your pleasure!’ He demanded just before she cried out, her head thrown back as her cunt clamped down on him so hard he briefly thought it would hurt before the pleasure shot straight up his spine and he buried his cock into her as deeply as he could.

Aemond couldn’t tell how long they laid there breathing heavily and just holding each other, it felt as if they lost time before there was a knock on the door and Y/n flinched, instinctively trying to cover her body with a blanket despite no one entering. ‘My Prince? If you have finished we need-‘

‘Shut Up! Say Another Word and I Will Remove Your Tongue!’ He growled to the maester at the door. ‘Stay still my love, I will take care of it.’ He kissed her head and she smiled, humming contently before wincing as he pulled out of her, using his thumb to press his cum back into her abused hole as it leaked out. Aemond jumped up and pulled the sheet carefully from under her and off of the bed, rolling his eyes as he saw the small amount of blood on the white linen that he had made sure to fuck her on top of as he wasn’t willing to argue about them needing evidence that consummation took place. ‘I will be right back, then you are mine for the next week, because I do not plan on us leaving this bed for at least that long.’ He teased, kissing her nose and making her giggle as he pulled his trousers on and moved to the door, unbarring it and stepping outside while shutting the door behind him, unwilling to let anyone see his wife in her current state. At the door stood Maester Mellos along with his Grandsire, his mother and brother, and also Rhaenyra and Daemon. ‘I do not understand why this needed to be such a spectacle for so many of you but here.’ He shoved the sheet at the old man angrily. ‘Now, all of you will leave because if I find out anyone continued listening at the door I will slit you from balls to brains!’ The maester inspected the sheet before nodding to the Queen who genuinely looked sorry for her son.

‘I didn’t know you had it in you brother!’ Aegon laughed, Otto shoving him away quickly and dragging him down the hall before Aemond could move to cut him open as he wanted to, Daemon following along, clearly not caring about being there and only having done so as he loved his niece- to ensure Aemond was a gentleman.

‘Take care of your wife Aemond, I know you will be a good husband, better than your brother.’

‘Thank you mother-oh! We will be taking all of our meals in our chambers tomorrow-and for the foreseeable future. Please be sure a maid is sent to do that, my wife will need breaks to eat.’ Alicent didn’t look shocked at all, just nodding her head before she walked off.

‘Brother.’ Rhaenyra spoke, Aemond sighing before giving her his attention. ‘Take care of her. She is a gentle soul, if you hurt my sister I will make sure you do not live to see whatever children you give her.’ He rolled his eyes, not giving a fuck about his elder sisters threat.

‘If you think for a moment that I would harm her then you know nothing about our relationship at all-oh! Wait! You don’t…it took 9 years but I always knew that I would make her mine no matter what I had to do. I’m just thankful that father gave into my threat before you could give her away to that idiot Wolf in the North.’

‘W-what are you-‘

‘Of course, you don’t know! I made my mother aware of the fact that if you were successful in marrying off our sister that I would have mounted Vhagar and burned every inch of the Starks home, and every other home and stronghold that had snow covering it. She was never going to marry anyone else, that was decided quite a long time ago…its just that no one but I knew it.’ He explained, enjoying her shocked expression before opening the door to go back to his wife. ‘Oh! One more thing! You should make sure that you keep your eldest on a short leash, because if I find out-or Gods forbid catch him-peeping at my wife like he did under your watch, he will be locked in the Black cells until I decide to feed him to Vhagar. Your heir or not, father will not be able to argue with him dishonoring my wife and his favorite grandchild, and you know it…it was lovely to see you again sister.’ With that Aemond slammed the door in her face and turned back to his wife.

‘Is everything okay?’ Y/n asked, clearly nervous that the sheet wouldn’t be enough evidence and they would demand to watch this time.

‘Of course my Love, I will always ensure that it will be. Now, let us continue enjoying our marital bliss for as long as we can, hmm?’ Y/n smiled, dropping the blankets and revealing her naked chest to his eyes and he couldn’t help but imagine the breasts that he was in love with, swollen with milk to feed the boy that was growing in her womb. He was desperate to taste it himself, his cock growing hard in record time at the thought before he leapt into the bed beside her.

‘I want to stay here with you like this forever.’ She admitted, now sitting in his lap, his cock buried in her pussy as he enjoys worshipping her breasts with his mouth.

‘As you wish Sister…Always.’

Aemond T. Masterlist

[radiance1]

Killer Croc and Jack Fenton are brothers.

Killer Croc was the first born, just a about 5 years older than Jack. Their father was a large man, much larger than should be possible considering he never had a meta gene.

But oh boy would it have not surprised them if he did. Because that man was strong, 10 feet tall, and shrugged off things that would injure most people.

Like a brick to the head.

Anyways.

Croc was entranced with his younger brother; he was so small so much tinier than he had any right to be, and cuter than a button. He babbled like most babies do, but Croc wouldn't think twice before calling his baby brother the best baby of them all.

His dad could fit him in the palm of his hand easily! Which was just one of Jack's many great qualities in his opinion!

Croc and Jack's parents weren't really on the best of terms, Croc could tell. He didn't know why, really, but he didn't want his baby bro to feel unloved in any sort of way, and it's not like he really had friends to hang out with, plus his parents were busy with jobs.

So he mostly spent his time taking care of and playing with Jack. Changing diapers, feeding him, lifting him up and down with his tail, just the normal sibling stuff.

He feels kind of bad for his dad though, whatever kind of job he had didn't even let him come home most days, and when he did he could barely even walk upright without falling asleep and jolting awake. He still made time for them, however, when he got those rare few off days.

He's honestly surprised that man managed to drive a car properly in the state he was in.

Their mother was often out of the house, Crocc didn't know what she was doing but he just thought it was like his dad. Unlike his dad, however, she didn't really like him. He didn't really know why, nor did he really care either if he was to be honest.

Around a year later the tension between their parents got so thick it could be cut with a butter knife. Then it turned to arguments in the rare times they both were in the house, he didn't even know his parents could make such cutting remarks to each other, and then both of them being in the house less than before.

Then when he turned 10, and Jack 5. They got divorced. Croc was left with his mother and Jack got taken by his father. His mother didn't take the divorce well, really, probably because at the same time she got fired from whatever the hell she was doing and was left jobless.

Then she dropped the bomb on his that his dad wasn't even his actual dad and Jack is only his half-sibling and then promptly abandoned him in the sewers with the rats and what was most likely very poisoned water due to it being the sewers and Gotham.

Well. Fuck.

Croc thinks that Jack doesn't even remember him due to how young he was, nor did he ever see his dad again cause, y'know, being abandoned in the sewers and all.

Then multiple years later he ran into his brother again and got DAMN was he tall. Not taller than him, but it was basically the equivalent of a gut punch to Croc, because he remembers his baby bro being so tiny, so baby.

He blames his father's genes for him being 8 feet taller now. A head shorter than him, sure. But he wants back his small baby bro alright.

Then he finds out his baby bro has a family.

And fuck did he not want to involve himself anymore in fear of being a catalyst for tearing said family apart due to being, well, him and all. Then he was promptly (quite literally) dragged over to meet said family despite his stance on the matter.

Then he finds out he's just treated like a normal person with zero amount of fear. His wife? She had to have a giant in her family too because she was 7 feet tall and was smart enough to kick his ass.

His daughter? 6 feet tall and their first meeting she accidently became his therapist. Also, he was sure she was a meta of some kind, probably something to do with wolves.

Then finally, their son.

It felt like he was thrown back to his childhood when he saw him, he looked so much like Jack did, and he was so, so tiny just like his baby bro was. He had to physically hold himself back from doing anything with the kid because he feared he would accidentally break him or something.

Then he found out that apparently his nephew was half-dead and that his brother and his wife hated ghosts with a passion, built a portal to the other side, had their city attack by the ghost king and then promptly found out about their son's half-dead status and had to do a major revamp of basically everything they knew and acted upon.

Which they're still working on.

Oh and also their daughter is a werewolf, she had a meta gene from someone of his dad's side and only recently activated it.

All of that which was a lot to take in for old Killer Croc, also he knew his niece had something to do with wolves.

So, Killer Croc in all of his life from the point of being abandoned at up to now, decided to go screw the bats and whatever they're attempts of figuring out what the fuck's going on with him (look at you Red Hood.) and decided to try and integrate himself into this family and brother's life again as best he can.

[thelov3lybookworm]

I Didn't Ask For This (Part 9)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Summary: Marriage had always been something sacred to little Y/n, something dream like, where her husband would come and whisk her away to a fairyland. At least, that's what she had always thought.

All her dreams would be shattered.

But maybe she can salvage them?

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: forced marriage, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: I've been soo excited to write this part, especially the ending. Despite the almost whole thing being erased because I didnt save it, I like this part. Hope you do too.

Enjoy!

•○🌑○•

Y/n smiled softly as she stared at the Sidra, standing next to Azriel while leaning against the railing of the bridge.

"It's very peaceful." She murmured.

"That it is. It feels more so at night, because there's more chaos nearby." He offered. She nodded.

They had been walking around the city for a couple of hours now, and it was almost dinnertime. They had decided to rest for a few moments before continuing. She was so tired that she was sure that her legs would fall off if she took another step. Obviously, she hadn't considered the consequences when she promised to spend the whole day with him.

The whole morning and afternoon was spent with him pointing at shops and telling her of how he and his brothers terrorised Velaris in their younger years. Y/n's stomach hurt from how much she had laughed. From those stories, she knew that most of his five hundred years had brought him happiness. And that made her happy, for a reason she didnt want to think of.

He tilted his body so he faced her more. "Where do you want to eat?"

"I don't know...can't you decide?" She glanced at him, quickly turning back to the river, because she couldn't look at him for more than a moment without blushing. Especially with the intensity with which he looked at her. As if she was the only person in the world and if he didn't pay attention to every word she said, he'd die.

She could feel him smile as he straightened. "There is this place along the banks of Sidra. Its the inner circle's current favourite place to eat."

"Okay." She mumbled as she turned to him. "How far is it?"

"Don't worry. I'll carry you."

"Excuse me?"

He grinned, turning away from her and giving her instructions to wrap her arms around his neck, ignoring her protests. She finally relented, his hands going under her thighs to hoist her up. He couldn't look at her, which she was glad for, because all he would've seen was the redness in her face.

She clutched him tighter as he started walking, mindful of his wings. He again started telling her stories.

"There used to be a restaurant there." He pointed to a tailoring shop with a jerk of his head. "When we ate there for the first time, we were obsessed. We made plans all week to eat there on the weekend. When the day came, Cassian starved himself in hopes of being able to eat more. And, because he was so hungry, he gobbled down all the food without chewing. When we were leaving, he started feeling nauseous."

Y/n grinned and rested her head on his shoulder, having an inkling of where this was going.

"As soon as we stepped inside the town house, he threw up all over the threshold. After that he never even stepped foot in the general vicinity of the restaurant, as if it was somehow cursed."

Y/n laughed. "He is... a masterpiece."

"That he is." He agreed. Soon, they had reached the restaurant he was telling about and he helped her settle before he took seat.

As they ate, he managed to get Y/n to tell him about her life. And, because there were not really any happy or pleasant memories in her life, she told him of the less gruesome and painful ones. She watched as his anger grew with every word from her mouth.

When they were flying back, he stayed mostly quiet, as if lost in thought. Before they landed though, he turned to her.

"There is a family dinner tomorrow at the river House. I'd be happy if you came."

She considered it for a moment before nodding. "I'll come."

"Thank you." Quiet joy took over his face as he set her down, his lips twitching as if he was holding back a smile as he kissed her hand before flying away.

She stared at his form until she couldn't anymore, smiling.

Azriel had been extremely adorable today, and she would be lying if she said that she wasn't excited to see this side of him again.

•○🌑○•

The darkness was creeping in again as she stared at her abdomen in the mirror. Her shirt was stuck around her wrists as she clutched the cloth to her chest. The disgusting thoughts and vile ideas she had regarding the disgusting marks on her body swirled through her mind.

She hated herself for it.

She hated everyone who played a role in bringing her to this point.

Everyone who had a hand in turning the hopeful little soul she had been into the unoptimistic female she was today.

Somewhere deep in her she knew it was wrong to think about herself that way, but she didn't care. Her father and the other men's laughs were too loud for her to hear the rational thoughts.

This was the sole reason why she never looked at herself when she changed. It bought back those dark memories and thoughts. But today she couldn't help it.

She was getting ready to go to the dinner with the inner circle when she had peeked at herself, and now she couldn't stop thinking of how disgusting her body was.

She knew if someone came in from the door, they would have an unobstructed view of the map of horror on her back. But she couldn't bring herself to care at the moment.

While she was busy thinking of these things, she didn't hear the soft footfalls nearing her room. She didn't hear them until it was too late.

A knock sounded before her husband poked his head in, the smile on his face disappearing as she pulled the shirt back over her head. She gave him a shaky smile as she watched a muscle feather in her jaw.

"Az– Azriel. Did you need something?"

He didn't reply, entering the room fully, the door clicking shut behind him. He prowled closer, ignoring her questions and attempts at distraction. When he was close enough, he traced lines on her now clothed back, exactly where some of those scars were.

His eyes slowly lifted to meet hers in the mirror, his voice quiet and deadly as he spoke. "May I?" His hands brushed the hem of her shirt. She wanted to say no, but she nodded.

He slowly and gently lifted her shirt as she clutched the front of it so she didn't get completely naked in front of him. His eyes traced the marks on her back with a fierceness that would've sent people running.

"Who did this to you?" His voice sent shivers down her spine.

"My– my father and a few other men."

He met her eyes again, his eyes flashing before glancing down at her abdomen which had gotten exposed. He stepped closer, curling his arm around her around her to reach the scars. His face was murderous, but his hands were gentle. So gentle her knees nearly buckled.

He traced those scars, completely silent. The air was filled with tension as she watched his every move, her eyes prickling.

His eyes slowly lifted to hers again, his voice lower and more dangerous as he spoke. "Anywhere else?"

She knew he was asking if she had more scars. Which she did, so after a moment of consideration, she unclasped the few of the clasps at the top of the shirt and pulled the flaps aside.

A startled gasp full of horror left him as his eyes flew wide.

There, on her chest right above where her heart should be, was a nasty scar.

"How did you survive that!?" He questioned, his voice wobbling.

She smiled. "He wouldn't have let me die that easily." She turned to him. "Before the bargain between us was made, he wasn't that bad. Then he slowly started ignoring us. Mother wasn't talking to him, spending most of her days with me. But then, so deep in despair she was, she stopped taking care of herself. And that was the start of her slow and sure demise." She took a deep breath, tears gathering in her eyes.

"After she died, he only got worse. He started yelling at us, and then hitting us. It soon turned to whipping us." She searched Azriel's face before continuing. "After you left, the Camp Lord kicked us out of the camp, not wanting to share the power when he was no longer getting something out of it. We stayed nearby for a few years before father somehow convinced him to let us back into the camp.

"Later on, we found out that he had made a bargain that he would let the males in the camp beat us for their own sick pleasure. He–"

"What?" He had gone rigid.

She swallowed. "They started an event. It took place every year. The men who wanted to feel like they were great warriors would come and fight with the women, who had no experience. Seeing their opponent, especially a female, beaten and bruised, gave then satisfaction. Some of those scars are the result of this event. But it was stopped the moment Rhysand became High Lord.

"One day, father got so frustrated for something that I can't recall right now, and conveniently, I was nearby. He got a blunt knife that he was about to sharpen, ant stuck it in my chest. It hurt." A tear escaped her eye as she recalled the pain. "And becuase it was blunt, it took more force for it to pierce skin. When he was done and I was nearly dead, he got a healer to get me healed."

At this point, tears were streaming down her cheeks. He pulled her to his chest, his lips ghosting over her temple. He murmured things in her ear, but she couldn't make anything out over the sound of her sobs and her heart beating in her chest as she clutched onto Azriel as if he was the only thing keeping her alive.

He didn't complain, holding her back just as fiercely.

Sometime later, she decided to get dressed. So she pulled away and walked into the adjoining bathroom. When she came back out, Azriel smiled at her.

"I'll drop you off at the house. I have an important thing to do."

She nodded, despite wanting to ask him to not go.

Soon, she was sitting with the inner circle in the sitting room of the River House, glancing out the window continuously, hoping he came back soon.

•○🌑○•

It was somewhere near midnight when Azriel returned, smiling at her. She smiled back, a blush already creeping up her face. He sat next to her. He smelled and looked like he just taken a bath, his hair damp.

Almost an hour later, the High Lord left the sitting room, saying someone had brought some reports for him. Azriel watched him go, his jaw clenching. But when he found Y/n looking at him, he smiled again, relaxing.

It wasn't long before Rhysand burst back in, fuming. He walked straight to Azriel, who was already standing.

"What is this Azriel?" Rhysand waved some papers in front of her husbands face. Confused, everybody sat straighter, somber.

Unease started swirling in Y/n's stomach. If the High Lord was so mad, it must be something important.

Azriel glanced at the High Lord's hand before back at him, speaking calmly. "Those are papers Rhys. More specifically, they look like reports."

Rhysand looked on the verge of murdering someone. Y/n stood. "Tell me why, tell me fucking why, an Illyrian camp was burned to the ground. That too exactly while you were absent."

Her heart stopped as she stared at Azriel, his face void of any emotion or remorse. If anything, he looked proud.

What in the name of the cauldron did he do?

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @bubybubsters @maxxieluvs @bubbbllee @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @waytoomanyteenagefeels @tell-me-a-poem @the-lake-is-calling @spaxxxi @japanese-wonderland-blog @valeridarkness @moonlwghts @deadratio @esposadomd @harrystylesfan2686 @missusbarnes-rogers @whatthefuckshappeningrn @hyacinthoideshispanica @historygeekqueen @lizziesfirstwife @nastynesta @aroseinvelaris @nightless @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kodokunarisu-blog @selillusion @eos-princess @moonfawnx @a-court-of-milkandhoney @emilyo-218 @wannabewolf @ailyr92 @chronically-online-cheese @myheartfollower @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival @marina468 @menaosama @starryhiraeth @hereticdance @mali22 @valencia-rou @azrielsstarlight @marvelouslovely-barnes @luvmoo @starlight-hope @a-frog-with-a-laptop @fall-myriad @alt-ghost @elleofdragons @ruleroftides @5moremin @stargirl1714 @bunnymallowo @ivy-34

Part 10

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for giving my friends new GF a 'shovel talk'?

I (29X) have a DnD group comprised of people I've known for minimum 4 years, but most of them up to 7-8 years. They're all about 6 years younger than me, and I consider them my little brothers/sisters. One of them, D(24M) lives out of town and uses Discord to join our games. This week he was visiting home and came in person to our game, and surprised us by brining his new GF, M (20s?). This was the first time she'd been mentioned, but were always hip to new people coming by so it's no big deal.

M was very sweet, brought cookies and seemed honestly interested in the game (she was watching, might join in next time), and was generally very kind. At the end of the night when we were all saying good nights, I took her hand and basically told her, seriously, "listen.... these guys, they're my family and I love them. If you hurt him, I'll bury you like a shit on a camping trip."

I mostly kid (id never actually harm someone) but my group really is my family. Someone made the comment at one point that DM actually stands for "Den Mother". M kinda laughed and agreed with me, I explained that one of our other players got the same talk when her Beau brought her to play, and we all parted.

I have wicked anxiety and I'm worried I scared her off or overstepped. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[imaginespazzi]

Part 2: If Only You'd Been Here

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

Ain't nobody hurt you like I hurt you (but ain't nobody love you like I do)

(In which a sadistic writer tortures her beloved ship a fair amount and maybe her readers too)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining, Hurt/Comfort and maybe Fluff if you squint

Words: 6.5K (someone please be proud that it is in fact shorter 🙈)

TW: Swearing, Alcohol, Injuries, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Good morning my lovelies <3 Just a couple of things I changed that you should know before you read. If you follow WCBB, you know UCLA didn't win the Pac-12 tournament in 2023 but in this universe they did. You also probably know they lost in the NCAA tournament last year to SC in the Greenville region but in this universe, for plot purposes, they're gonna be in the Seattle region. I kept their seeding and who they were playing vague because it was gonna get too complicated to figure out. Also if you saw my list of part titles a while ago, no you didn't lol. As always, feel free to know what you liked, what you didn't, and anything you'd like to see in future parts. And as you're reading, let's just remember y'all love me and everything I do is for the plot. Happy reading and have a wonderful week lovelies!

December 2022

The distinctly “car” smell of her car is starting to make Paige more than a little nauseous. Going by the way Drew is pouting in the passenger seat, he’s also clearly over it. They’ve been driving in circles for what feels like hours. At first, still enamoured with being allowed to sit in the front, her little brother had gone along with her ridiculousness. Now, as they approach maybe the 12th or so lap around the neighbourhood, he seems less than thrilled. 

“Alright let me out and you keep driving,” Drew says, fiddling agitatedly with his seatbelt, “I think I’m gonna puke.”

“Well hold it in,” Paige retorts unhelpfully as they re-round the block. She keeps her eyes focused on the road, ignoring the glare her brother sends her away. He takes in a dramatic breath and leans back onto his seat. She grips the steering wheel tighter as they pass the house again, still not brave enough to pull into the driveaway of a place she’d once considered just as much a home as her own. 

Drew lets out another groan, “I shoulda just stayed home.”

“Well you didn’t-” Paige’s reply is cut off by the sound of a phone call reverberating around the car. The CallerID reads “Azzi (DON’T YOU DARE IGNORE)”, a name the younger girl had plugged in herself with a warning look the day Paige had left LA. Chewing whatever dry skin is still left on her bitten-to-death lips, Paige clicks accept on the call. 

“What number lap is this?” comes Azzi’s exasperated voice and Paige can’t help the smile that creeps onto her face. 

“Oh you know my car’s feeling the need to exercise today,” Paige hums back, suddenly feeling a lot lighter than she had just a couple of seconds ago. Sometimes, she’s not sure how she managed to go a year with this constant heavy weight pressing down on her ribs, and no Azzi to slowly ease her out from under it. 

“Azziiiiii,” Drew whines dramatically, “please come save me. I’m gonna die in this car.”

Affronted, Paige splutters, “nobody forced you to come.”

“You begged me to come,” her young brother quips back and it elicits a laugh from the girl on the other end of the line. 

“I did-”

“Paige,” Azzi cuts her off, “just come inside okay? You’re wasting gas for nothing.”

“I- it’s just-,” Paige’s hands tighten even more around the wheel, as she stops on the sidewalk, switching on her turn signal, but still not entering the driveway. She leans her head against the wheel, overwhelmed by emotions she can’t quite name. Drew places a comforting hand on her back and she sends him a reassuring smile, trying to shield her younger brother from the havoc in her brain. 

“Hey,” Azzi’s voice floats through the fog, “it’s just me okay? Me and you and us. It’ll be okay. I promise.”

It’s like a child being soothed with their favourite binkie, that’s what Azzi’s promise feels like to Paige. She finally turns into the driveaway, and both Drew and Azzi cheer in tandem. The knot in her chest loosens just a little bit at that because the large crowds that scream for her make her feel adored, but this, her own personal cheer squad for her littlest of achievements, well it makes her feel loved. 

“Freedom,” Drew yells as he practically flings himself out of Paige’s barely parked car. She rolls her eyes fondly at her mini me as he dramatically pretends to kiss the ground. It’s a small distraction from the memories that are swirling like a tornado in her mind. Minnesota is home, it’ll always be home but this place, this had been her safe haven, something she could hold onto at a time where everything else was slipping out of her hands. And then, like a fool, she’d let go of it. 

The door opens even before they’ve made it halfway to the door and Azzi’s brothers run out into the front yard. Jon pretends to take pictures and José practically falls to his knees as they swarm around the blonde. 

“Paige, Paige, can we get a picture or an autograph please,” they yell teasingly, “please Miss Bueckers we’re your biggest fans.”

“Move over boys,” Tim Fudd’s booming voice hollers, as he swats his children away, “her biggest fan is actually me eh Paige?”

The girl in question nods solemnly, her smile stretching the full length of her face, and both Jon and José let out a groan as their father beams at Paige. And then Katie’s there, not a hint of anything but pure happiness on her face as she wraps the younger girl into a hug. Paige melts into the embrace, trying her hardest not to burst into tears. Because all she can think about is the hundreds of calls and texts from Azzi that she’d left unanswered, all she can think of is Azzi's devastated face as she’d told Paige about just how hard she’d tried and that wretched ache of i don’t deserve this i broke your daughters heart wraps itself around Paige’s  heart. 

Over Katie’s shoulder, Paige watches as Azzi finally walks out into the law, her cheeks immediately turning red from the cold. The younger girl winks at Paige with a radiant smile, before giving all her attention to Drew who almost trips as he excitedly launches himself into Azzi, tiny hands wrapping around her waist. Paige watches, still buried in the warmth of Katie’s arms, as Drew animatedly tells Azzi all the stories he possibly can and Azzi nods along emphatically as if she’s being told the most important facts of her life. And Paige takes a snapshot of it to add to her ever growing collection of moments i just knew. 

***

January 2023

“Call her.”

Paige doesn’t bother replying, burying her face further into her tear-soaked pillow. Maybe if she ignores her teammate, Caroline will get the message and go away. The earth-shattering pain that she’d subdued for the last couple of months had finally reared its ugly head. And that too at the worst time possible, when her team needed to be a source of strength and with cameras catching the teardrops falling as she mourned the loss of not being able to play in the epic UConn-Tennessee rivalry. She’d done so well at holding it in, breaking apart only a couple of times, sometimes alone and sometimes with Azzi on the other end of the line. Until tonight, when the bright lights and roaring crowd had reignited the itch to just fucking play ball. 

“Paige,” Caroline says again, “stop being stubborn and call her.”

“She has a game tomorrow, she doesn’t need my dramatic ass worrying her right now,” Paige replies, getting into a sitting position when she realises the other girl isn’t about to just let this go. 

“You’re eventually going to call her. The two of you haven’t gone one day without talking to each other since this summer,” Caroline gives her a look, a hint of a smirk play on her face when it tints Paige’s cheeks pink, “seriously, just call her.”

It’s not that Paige doesn’t want to. She’d scrolled through her contacts and stopped at Azzi’s one too many time’s tonight. And each time, just as her fingers had hovered over the green call button, she’d felt guilt claw at her neck. Since she’d shown up in LA, Azzi had shown up for Paige every step of the way, checking in regularly, listening to Paige vent her anger at the world and whispering words of comfort that only sounded true when they came from Azzi’s mouth. Sometimes, if she tries really hard, Paige can feel the ghost of Azzi’s arms wrapping themselves around her shoulders, just as they had that one night in LA when Azzi had held her, so delicately as if she was made of porcelain, through the worst of her breakdowns. 

“She needs to focus on her game,” Paige says after a moment. 

Caroline sighs, mind wandering to the countless texts on her phone from Azzi begging her to take care of Paige and to let her know when the blonde wasn’t doing okay, “I know but she’d want you to call her if she knew. You need her.”

“And where was I when she needed me?” it’s the word need that triggers it, the quick snap because it’s all Paige has been able to think about lately. 

Without basketball, she’d had far too much time on her hands and she’d ended up going down a spiral of watching Azzi’s games from her freshman year, something she’d religiously avoided doing when they had happened live. At first, it had just been this immense feeling of pride, seeing her best friend be the college basketball phenomenon Paige had always known she would be. She’d shoved away the envy of it was supposed to be us that immersed her seeing the way the Bruins celebrated their new star player, and just let herself be happy in her best friend’s happiness. 

And then something changed around at the beginning of January 2022. It had only lasted a couple of games, but Azzi had hit a wall. Threes were short, cuts were made at the wrong time and she kept on getting lost on defence in a way that was very unlike her. And all Paige could focus on, eyes glued to the screen, was how completely and utterly exhausted Azzi looked during that stretch, despite the fact that she’d just come back from winter break. The smile had vanished off her face, replaced by stress lines Paige wished she could go back in time and erase. 

It wasn’t until she’d binged through all the games, cheering silently as Azzi slowly returned to form, that the realisation had hit Paige. She’d been slapped with the memory of a store decorated brightly for Christmas and a familiar voice calling her name, as she’d purposely walked the other way, pretending she hadn’t heard and the more than deserved i’m done trying text that had followed right after. For a year, perhaps longer, Paige had convinced herself that she was the only one who had lost something, she was the only one who had a right to hurt, to break. And still, she thinks she’d take all of that pain again a thousand times, if it means she could erase the fact that in all of her self-pity, she’d broken Azzi too.

“Where was I when she needed me?” she repeats again to Caroline, as the brunette stares at her in confusion, “the answer to that Carol, is that I was anywhere but with her.”

Caroline’s eyes soften in realisation as she takes a cautious step towards Paige, “oh P don’t do this to yourself.”

“I want to call her,” Paige confesses in a whisper, tears brimming in her eyes, “it’s the only thing I’ve wanted to do all day and maybe- maybe I should have but I’m just- I’ve been so unfair to her.”

“You were hurt Paige.”

“I know- I know that. But so was she. You don’t- god Carol- you don’t even know the things I said to her before she left for LA. And she’s still here,” the first tears fall from her blue eyes, and then the next and the next until there’s a steady waterfall streaming down her face, “you know I almost didn’t let her in when she first came over this summer?”

Caroline doesn’t say anything, choosing instead to come sit next to Paige and wrap her arms around the point guard. 

“I didn’t answer her calls or her texts for a year and still, still she’s picked up every call, replied to every text I’ve sent her since summer. I know- I know I need her and she’s going to be there of course she is. But when she needed me, where was I?” Paige drops her face into her hands, “I just- I don’t deserve her.”

There’s a moment of silence as Caroline rubs Paige’s back and lets the older girl wallow in her guilt. And then she reaches for Paige’s phone on the nightstand, ignoring the little grunt of protest. When the screen lights up, there’s already a notification of new messages from Azzi and Caroline can’t help but smile. 

“I think,” she begins softly, “Azzi’s a smart girl so maybe give that tiny little brain of yours a little bit of rest and let her decide who deserves her,” she hands Paige her phone “let her be there for you. I think maybe she needs that too.”

Caroline gives Paige’s shoulders a little squeeze before heading out the doors, giving the older girl a moment of privacy. Paige sighs, getting herself comfortable against her pillows, and rubbing away her tears, before finally giving in and pressing the facetime call button. 

“Do you want a distraction or do you want to talk about it?” Azzi says as soon as she picks up and Paige can see the concern etched all over her face.

“Or maybe I’m perfectly fine?”

“Ah we’re playing the pretend game tonight. Should have cleared your throat for a second longer maybe Miss Perfectly Fine, your eyes are red as fuck and you sound like a dying cat.” 

“Wow, that was rude. Maybe I’m sick?” 

“With what? The “lies to her best friend” flu?”

“That UCLA education has you making up illnesses now? Damn Az, you’re supposed to get smarter in college.”

“You’re so funny, like so funny,” Azzi huffs sarcastically before they both dissolve into giggles. It’s always just been so easy with them. And Paige’s isn’t a poet, but if she was, she’d write sonnets about the sound of Azzi’s laughter, and the way it makes the corner of her eyes crinkle. 

“I watched the game,” Azzi says after a second, “and I saw you.”

Paige smirks, “so you didn’t actually watch the game, just stared at my gorgeous face the whole time?”

“There’s that comedian streak of yours again.”

“Hey you’re the one who said you were watching me instead of the game. But who could blame you really?”

“I didn’t-” Azzi rolls her eyes, as Paige’s cocky smirk deepens, “stop it.”

“You can admit I’m a pretty girl Az,” she teases, delighted when it makes the younger girl blush. 

“Fuck off, you have enough people telling you you’re a pretty girl.”

“Yeah but it means more coming from you,” she says quietly, biting her lip. It’s not the kind of thing you’re supposed to say to your best friend, at least not in the soft, wanting way that Paige says it. Except they both know that the lines in their friendship are far more blurred than they should be, even if they've both done a pretty fantastic job at ignoring that kiss. Paige had learned over Christmas that Azzi was exceptionally good at the pretending part, moving away the moment Paige’s hands lingered a little longer than they should, changing topics if they even got anywhere near addressing the something between them. It shouldn’t have hurt but it did and Paige doesn’t understand how she can so desperately miss something that she never even had in the first place. 

“So distraction then?” Azzi says after a second, changing the subject back to her initial question. 

Paige closes her eyes, taking in a deep breath, “it was just- it was a lot tonight. I didn’t realise I was being that obvious.”

“You weren’t. I just know you a little too well.”

“These are my favourite types of games, you know. The rivalry, the crowd booing my name and getting the chance to quiet them, that’s- that’s the type of game players live for and I just- I miss it Azzi. I miss shooting, I miss defending, I miss just standing on the fucking court sometimes. I miss playing basketball. So. Fucking. Much,” a fresh set of tears leak out of Paige's eyes, as her free hand fists at her bedsheets. 

There’s silence as Paige’s words linger in the air. In a way it’s freeing to be able to say it out loud, to just let herself feel how she feels instead of fighting them. 

“You’re gonna miss it every day until you play again,” Azzi says quietly, her own voice thick with emotions, “and it’s not really gonna get easier until you get it back. But when you finally do, just- just imagine it okay, your first game back. The feeling of the crowd. Dribbling up the court. Making that first shot as everybody loses their minds. Finally just playing the game you love. That’s when that feeling of loss will finally go away.”

Using Azzi’s steady breathing as an anchor to still her erratic heartbeat, Paige lets herself get lost in the picture the younger girl has just painted for her. She lets her mind run to the future that lies ahead of her and if she focuses hard enough she can almost hear the Gampel crowds roaring as she finally returns to the court. 

“It’s kinda really fucking annoying how you always know what to say,” no it isn’t, it’s the only thing that’s keeping Paige going these days. 

“Surviving an ACL injury will do that to a girl,” Azzi says with a pained smile. 

That’s not it Paige thinks, it’s not experience, it’s you and I really wish you were here. But she can’t say that, so she changes the subject instead. 

“Tell me about your game tomorrow.”

They both settle back into their pillows, getting into more comfortable positions. Azzi tells Paige all about her upcoming game and then moves onto another topic, then another and another and another. They’ll wake up tomorrow morning to phones that died and no memory of when they’d fallen asleep. And then they’ll remember who was on the other end of the line, and if that makes them smile a little too hard, well that’s just another thing they’ll pretend didn’t happen. 

***

March 2023

It’s only natural that when Paige finally feels like she can learn to live with just having a little bit of Azzi, that the world would show her just how wrong she could be. She’s been in a much better headspace these days, her knee finally starting to feel like itself again, bit by bit. The guilt of not being able to help her team is still settled into the pits of her stomach but even with that, she’s reached a sort of acceptance. And while she’s still struggling to fight the part of her heart that wants so much more, she’s learning to be content with just having her best friend back.

It’s that little bit of time in between conference tournaments and the NCAA tournament when it feels like the calm before the storm and it’s the first weekend since before the season that the UConn team finally gets to go out and let loose for a bit. They’re riding the height of winning another Big East title and even if it’s a little bittersweet that they did it without her, Paige is beyond the moon happy for her team. 

She turns up the music in her room and changes the lights for the sake of a little ambience, before sitting down at her desk, to call Azzi and do what little of her makeup she knows how to do. Normally she’d get one of the other girls or Kayla to do it, but she’d rather sacrifice a flawless makeup look then miss out on having Azzi tease her about how she still didn’t quite know how to do her eyeliner properly yet. 

The fact that it takes Azzi longer than the third ring to pick up should be Paige’s first warning sign but instead she’s sucking in a deep breath at the sight of her best friend who looks breathtakingly beautiful tonight. Paige’s heart stutters as she takes in Azzi’s face, the light layer of red lipstick (that Paige wants to kiss off), the blush-tinged cheeks (that Paige wants to caress delicately) and the perfectly done mascara on her eyelashes (that Paige wants to feel flutter against her own skin). 

She lets out a low appreciative whistle, “celebrating that Pac-12 championship in style huh?”

“Something like that,” Azzi bites her lip and really that should have been warning sign number two, “was there- was there something you needed?’

“I can’t just call you?” Paige asks, noticing the tension on Azzi’s face, “are you busy?”

“No it’s not-”

“She is actually,” a different voice cuts in aggressively and Azzi immediately gives whoever it is an exasperated look. Paige doesn’t know who it is, but she guesses it’s one of the UCLA players. It’s no secret they aren’t huge fans of her. They’d made that much clear the few times they’d met Paige during September, always regarding her with a wary eyes. It wasn’t their fault really, Paige understood their protectiveness, in fact she appreciated it more than they would ever understand. 

“Chill Angela.” 

“Are you not busy then?” the other voice who Paige assumes is Angela Dugalic says, clearly a little annoyed. And then Azzi’s phone is being shifted away from her and instead it’s Angela’s face that covers Paige’s screen. 

“Oh,” the blonde manages to get out, taken aback by the sudden change, “hi Angela.”

“Hi Paige,” the other girl says, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. 

“Angela,” there’s a clear warning in Azzi’s voice and Paige already knows, even before the words are let out into the open, that whatever Dugalic is about to say is going to tear her apart. 

“Azzi has a date tonight,” Angela pronounces the last words with a gleeful lilt. 

The world spins and Paige’s head spins with it, as she grips onto her desk for some semblance of stability. She can hear Azzi spluttering in the background as she tries to get her phone back but it’s of no use as the UCLA forward powers on. 

“With a really pretty girl,” Angela smirks at the camera, clearly trying to prove something, “Zoe’s really wonderful. You’d like her, Paige.”

Zoe. Recognition registers in Paige’s brain. She remembers seeing the name flashing on Azzi’s phone a couple of times, accompanied by a photo she never quite caught a glimpse of. But as she tended to do with most phone calls that came during her time with Paige, Azzi had simply just declined the call and texted whoever that she’d call her back later. And so Paige hadn’t really bothered caring about Zoe, chalking her up to being some random friend Azzi had made. But fuck, maybe she should have cared. 

“And Azzi really likes her I think. They’ve been tiptoeing around it for ages you know? But we all knew it was only a matter of time.”

A strangled noise escapes Paige’s throat and she tries her best to disguise it as anything but the cry of despair it is. It feels like there’s a thousand knives digging into her skin, pressing harder and harder until she has no blood left to bleed. 

“They’re gonna make the cu-”

“Give me my phone back Angela,” Azzi’s voice cuts in harshly and Paige hurriedly rushes to contort her features into a smile right before the camera’s back to facing her best friend. 

“So you’re all dressed up for a date then?” Paige manages to get out and the word date sounds like bile on her tongue. 

“Doesn’t she look lovely?” comes Angela’s voice again; the girl seemingly on a mission to break Paige as much as possible, “give her a proper look Az.”

“Angela,” Azzi hisses through gritted teeth. 

“N-no show me the fit,” Paige counters, because that’s what a best friend’s supposed to say right? Show me how fucking perfect you look for a girl that’s not me

Azzi hesitates, swallowing nervously, before she takes a couple of steps back so the camera captures all of her. And Paige wishes she’d never asked to be shown in the first place, hell she wishes she’d never bothered to call tonight. Because she thinks the image of Azzi’s casual light blue jeans and simple green off-the shoulder top will be etched in her mind forever, captioned with the words not for you. 

“You look lovely Azzi,” she whispers quietly, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Zoe won’t be able to keep her fucking hands off of you,” Angela supplies and this time the glare Azzi shoots her is murderous. 

“I think I hear Emily calling your name Angela.”

“I don’t-”

“Yes,” Azzi says pointedly, “yes you do.”

Angela rolls her eyes but doesn’t protest this time. She turns to the phone with a devilish grin, clearly feeling accomplished in being a menace, “nice talking to you Paige.”

She waltzes out, leaving Paige, Azzi and a silence that feels like it could drown them. 

“You could have told me,” the blond says after a second, averting her eyes from the screen, “aren’t dates the kind of thing best friends are supposed to tell each other?”

“Paige-”

“It’s good though- you-uh- you deserve a night out.”

“P-”

“Listen, I uh- I’m going out too so- I- umm- I better get going but-,” Paige takes in a deep breath, “have a- have wonderful time on your date Az.”

She hangs up before Azzi can reply, the concern in the younger girl's eyes becoming too much to bear. For a moment, she stares straight ahead at the wall, just processing. And then she lets herself fall apart. 

***

It’s 1 a.m., Paige is drunk and miserable and so fucking tired; it’s an extremely dangerous combination. Aaliyah and Amari had practically had to carry her to her dorm because she’d been stumbling far too much and everyone was worried she’d eventually fall flat on her face. Personally, Paige thought they just didn’t have enough faith in her. She wasn’t even that drunk, she couldn’t be. After all she could still feel that stupid Azzi-sized scar on heart and wasn’t the whole point of being drunk supposed to be not being able to feel? But she has to be drunk because sober her would know better than to do what she does next, would know better than to call Azzi when she has no control over herself. 

“Paige? Is everything okay? Are you okay,” Azzi’s voice is filled with concern when she answers.

“Azziiiii,” Paige slurs, “areyoustillwithyourdate?”

“What?”

“Are. you. still. with. your. date?” Paige pronounces each word slowly. 

“I- yeah. She’s in a different room. Paige, are you okay?” 

“Interesting,” the blonde remarks quietly, “you never picked up her calls when you were with me. And we weren’t even dating.”

She hears Azzi’s breath hitch on the other end, can almost picture her doing that nervous swallow of hers, “ I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“You didn’t care if she was okay then? Those times she called you?”

“That’s not- she didn’t call me at 1 a.m.” the younger girl justifies hollowly. 

“Bullshit,” Paige scoffs, “1 a.m. isn’t even that fucking late. Why is it so hard for you to admit you care about me waaaayyyyy more than you care about Zara or whatever?”

“Zoe. You’re drunk Paige, go to bed,” and Paige really should listen to the edge in Azzi’s voice.

“Where did y’all go?” she asks lightly, changing the subject, “c’mon Az, best friends share their date stories right?”

“Baltaire,” Azzi relents, choosing to let this battle go. 

“Oooh that restaurant we passed that one time wow,” Paige coos, “too fucking bad you hate fine dining huh? But she wouldn’t know that now would she? Because she doesn’t fucking know you.”

“Paige please,” Azzi breathes out quietly in a pained voice.

“But you know who does know you? Me. And I would have never taken you to some boring old fancy ass piece of shit restaurant like that.”

“Don’t-”

“I would have taken you on a picnic. Do you remember that park you loved, the one by my air bnb? There, that’s where I would have taken you. And I’d have gotten you supermarket sushi even though I fucking hate that shit but I know, I know, you like it. And flowers. Did she get you flowers? Because I- I would have. Roses and peonies and lilies, a whole fucking bouquet.”

And Paige is crying again, for the second time tonight, one hand gripping at her phone as the other one tries to wipe away the frantically falling teardrops. 

“And we’d stay at that park til the sun goes out and I’d take a polaroid of you in the sunset and I’d keep it forever. I swear Azzi, I’d keep it forever and I’d put it on my wall.”

“Paige,” Azzi whispers, as if it’s the only word she knows, as if it’s the only word that matters. 

“I’d bring my laptop so that when it finally gets dark, we can watch a movie. You choose Az, whatever you want. And I’d get distracted and start playing with your hair or something and you’ll pretend it’s annoying you but you’d be smiling. Fuck I love your smile.”

“You can’t- you can’t just say these things Paige.”

“Why not? It’s the truth right- why can’t I say the truth?,” Paige says petulantly, “but hush okay I’m not- I’m not finished yet. And then, then we’d just lie under the stars and it'd just be you, me and the sky. Perfect.” 

Azzi lets out a broken sob and Paige hates it, she hates it but she keeps on talking. 

“And then I’d take you home and I’d kiss you,” she whispers the last bit like a confession, “everywhere. Fuck, I’d make it so good for you Az. So good. Everything you wanted, everything you needed, I’d give you all of it. I’d make you come apart on my fingers and then my tongue-”

“Shut up,” Azzi’s voice is suddenly cold and frosty and it feels like all the heat has been sucked out of Paige’s room as well, “shut up, shut up, shut up.”

“Azzi-”

“No,” Azzi all but yells, “you don’t get to say all of that to me.”

“Then who does? Her? Zia or whatever? Who the fuck even is she?” Paige spits out venomously.

“Zoe. Her name is Zoe and you wanna know she is Paige?” 

She should say no. She should apologise for interrupting Azzi’s date and hang up the phone, but no, Paige doesn’t do any of that, “enlighten me why don’t you.”

“She’s the girl who was there,” Azzi says, her voice cracking, “she’s the girl who held me last year when I was going through the worst time of my life. She was there when I couldn’t make a fucking shot and I thought maybe I’d never be good enough. She was there when I let the pressure and the media and all of it get to my head. She was there when I was crying my eyes out over losing the one person I was sure would always stay. She- she’s who you were supposed to be because she was there, and you weren’t.”

Paige isn’t sure if it’s the bitterness behind Azzi’s words or the brokenness of her sobs that is the reason for the ache in her own chest. All she knows is that she still remembers tearing her ACL, and she doesn’t think it hurt as much as this. 

“It was supposed to be you,” Azzi sniffles, “I wanted it to be you. Because I’d have let you- fuck- Paige- I’d have let you take me on a picninc and if you brought me sushi I’d have brought you your favorite mac and cheese. I- I know you don’t really care about flowers so I’d get you chocolate, the rum-filled ones that you love. And that sunset polaroid would have been a selfie of us, where you’re kissing my cheek and I’d have it framed. I’d pick out a movie but first- first you could watch whatever basketball game was on and you’d get exasperated when I don’t know the team because I’m literally a basketball player,” she lets out a wet laugh, “but I know you secretly like explaining the NBA to me. And then- then I’d have let you take me home and I’d let you take everything. Whatever you wanted, it’d be yours.”

The vivid image of a date that never happened fills every inch of Paige’s brain. She feels like she’s in a bad dream, trying so hard to reach for a happiness that keeps on evading her grasp. 

“But you weren’t there then Paige, and you aren’t here now.” 

“Azzi-” Paige chokes out. 

“Go to bed Paige,” the younger girl says, her voice shaky but adamant, ‘Get some sleep. Maybe you’re drunk enough that you won’t remember this when I call you tomorrow.”

“Right. So we’re gonna pretend this never happened. Again. We’ll just keep on pretending forever I guess,” Paige retorts bitterly. 

“Yes, we will. Because if I stop pretending, I don’t think I’ll be able to survive.”

***

The buzzer rings around Climate Pledge Arena as the UCLA women’s basketball team loses in the Elite 8 on a last second buzzer beater. Azzi’s face contorts into one of sheer disappointment, and in the stands, Paige feels her own heart drop. She’s not one to root for a team outside of her own and god knows what would happen if Nika found out that she’d been screaming her head off each time the Bruins, or at least one specific Bruin, scored, but for Azzi, well, there’s not many of her own rules that Paige follows when it comes to her best friend. 

It had taken a fair amount of convincing on Paige’s part to even be able to come to this game. Everyone had wanted to leave immediately after the Sweet 16 loss but Paige had insisted they needed to stay in Seattle, do something to get the team’s mind off of the terrible end to their season. And that wasn’t a complete lie because even if she hadn’t been able to help when they needed it on the court, she could try and help boost morale. But she knew her teammates weren’t fooled. They knew the schedule just as well as she did and they knew exactly what or better yet, who she wanted to stay for. 

On the court, Paige can tell Azzi’s fighting back tears. The brunette had given it her all, scoring an efficient 34 points and really the game could have gone any way. That last minute heave from the opposing team really probably shouldn’t have gone in, but at the end of the day the NCAA tournament was a lot about skill but also a little about luck. But Paige knows, Azzi isn’t thinking about any of that, too busy finding a way to blame herself even though she’d had a near perfect night. They were just too similar sometimes. 

Azzi’s eyes flicker through the stands, clearly looking for a familiar face. Paige resists the urge to run on to the court and pull the younger girl into her arms and soothe away the defeated look in her eyes, if only for the fact that Azzi doesn’t actually even know she’d figured out a way to stay back for this game. Despite being in the same city, they hadn’t been able to spend nearly as much time together and while Paige’s teammates had tried to be of some help, Azzi’s teammates had seemed determined to pull her away as much as possible. All of that on top of the fact that they’re still playing that stupid game of pretend had left Paige wanting for just one moment alone for the two of them. 

As soon as the UCLA team starts heading back to their locker room, and the crowd starts leaving, Paige scurries towards where she knows Azzi will be. Their assigned locker room isn’t that far from where UConn’s had been and Paige gets there in almost record time, her mind firmly planted on being there for Azzi. She’d missed so many opportunities, but this time, this time she’d be there. 

Azzi’s leaning against the wall, her eyes closed and Paige has to take in a breath at the sight of her. Sweat sheens against her tan skin and her gameday braids are falling apart just a little but still, she’s perfect. Before Paige can take a step towards her, there’s another girl, all dark hair and long legs, brushing past her, rushing to get to Azzi’s side. It’s like the world has stopped and yet is spinning too fast all at the same time, as Paige watches this girl, Zoe, pull Azzi, Paige’s Azzi, into her arms. 

After the night of the date (and everything else they’re ignoring), Paige hadn’t bothered to bring it up and Azzi had never said anything about it again. Naively, the blonde had thought that maybe that meant nothing much had transpired after the date, silently patting herself on the back for possibly even having had a hand in that. Except, the way Zoe holds Azzi isn’t fucking platonic and the way Azzi relaxes in Zoe’s arms, isn’t fucking friendly. 

“I”ve got you Az,” Zoe whispers into Azzi’s hair and Paige wants to die. She should look away, she should walk away but her feet seem to be glued to the ground. And she remembers the way Azzi’s eyes were searching the crowd and oh- she’d been looking for- Paige can’t even let herself complete the thought because she’s sure she’ll burst into flames the second she does. 

“I’m really glad you’re here,” Azzi says quietly to Zoe. To Zoe, and not Paige. If she could feel anything beyond the dagger twisting in her heart, maybe Paige would hear the way there’s still a tinge of disappointment in Azzi’s voice, as if she’s wishing it was someone else. 

It takes Zoe pressing a kiss into Azzi’s forehead, eliciting a sigh from the brunette for Paige to finally tear her eyes away. Her feet finally move and then she’s running faster than she has in a long time, ignoring the way it causes her muscle to ache. She can’t tell if her rapid blinking is to usher away the tears or to try and prevent the memory of Azzi with some other girl from welding itself into her eyelids. It blurs her vision and in the speed of things, she can barely tell where she’s going. Paige runs chest-first into a wall, bruising her elbow. Her phone slips out of her hands, falling to the ground with a loud thud, the screen protector cracking into pieces. 

And when Paige looks at the mess of her phone on the floor, she thinks it couldn’t possibly have cracked harder than this silly little stupid heart of hers.

[fakescenariosbeforesleepblog]

By fire and heart

Pt. 6

Daemma Targaryen. Second daughter of King Viserys and queen Aemma, you're the living portrait of your mother with the character of a true dragon, as a second daughter you don't have right to the throne but certainly, you will protect your sister's succession by heart. (You are one year younger than Rhaenyra.)

Warning: Credits of this images goes to whoever they belong to, I think it's to CCARMYY TikTok user! Grammatical and spelling errors, I used an online valyrian translator so if there're some errors I apologize and if you know about a good one please let me know, maybe this won't be good enough but In my head the story was a good one.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Pt. 7 here

A funeral always brings bitter and uncomfortable moments and awake old memories, but is also a reunion where you can find friends, enemies, families and allies all mixed together, you can't expect everything to go well.

The uncomfortable moments start when Vaemond Velaryon gives a speech and sarcastically mentions our blood and how this one shouldn't be diluted, causing Daemon to laugh, everybody observed him but apparently not many could understand what Vaemond was trying to say, he was doing a reference about Rhaenyra's sons, or at least that's what you think he was talking about.

You warned your sister to be careful and keep her distance from your uncle, not because you want to keep them away from each other, it's because your enemies are observing all of you, expecting the next move.

You were walking around when you heard Aegon and Aemond's conversation.

- We don't have nothing in common.

- She's our sister.

- Then you marry her, Daemma is also our sister.

- I would do it if it was my duty. But it is you who will get married, not me.

- She's an idiot, Daemma was a better match for me.

- She is your future queen, forget about Daemma.

You casually passed in front of the young boys, Aegon couldn't ignore you, he walked right behind you, following you around.

- Ao sagon tolī hāeda naejot mōzugon bona olvie, lēkia. (You're too young to drink that much, brother.)

You say to Aegon while you observed happily to Rhaenyra's sons talking with Daemons daughters and with their grandparents, it's a good sign, even in dark moments you know you can count with all of them.

- I drink the exact amount, funerals are sad and a good wine is always good to help us to survive.

- I thought you were drinking with the excuse of your marriage. Congratulations by the way, I hope you and Helaena can be happy.

- Don't come up with those words, it feels like poison in my system.

- I'm not trying to make you feel in that way my boy, I'm merely accepting our destiny is not together my dear brother but you're still welcome to visit my chambers when you feel overwhelmed or alone. After all, we're friends, no?

He looks at you, you're smiling at him and the way you look at him just shows how much you adore him. You're such a liar. He doesn't say more but simply nods. You continued walking leaving him alone.

You can see your father finally talking to your uncle, you've been avoiding him since the incident with Rhaenyra. Considering the circumstances perhaps it is time to make peace with him but just when you're walking to them Daemon leaves your father's side and you catch your sister, she looks at your uncle in the same way she did a long time ago, now is not only a probable option, it's definitely, you have to make peace with him for the good of realm, for the good of your sister.

You saw Otto Hightower walking to your uncle, you walked fast to arrive before him.

- Uncle, I'm Sorry for your loss.

He observes you from head to toe and then looks at some other place.

- Daemma, Ziry emagon issare nykeā bōsa jēda (it has been a long time). Ao sagon nykeā ābra sir, ao jurnegon gevie (You're a woman now, you look beautiful).

- Perhaps I look like a woman but there's a lot of things I still have to learn about it. I owe you an apology.

- Don't. Ao istan nykeā riñnykeā, ao gōntan daor shifang. (You were a child, you didn't understand)

- Now I'm not a child and i think as an adult it is necessary to make peace with the past, after all, you were like a father to me and I've been missing you.

You looked at him with some tears in your eyes, you can't deny it, you missed him. While he gave you a little smile and nodded, accepting your apology.

-Moreover, issa mandia se nyke jāhor jorrāelagon... someone... kostōba rȳ īlva paktot. (my sister and I will need... someone... strong at our side).

In a flash of an eye, you were hugging him, you missed him, a lot, the man who raised you. He returned the hug quickly and whispered in your ear.

- Ao kostagon ūñagon va issa. (You can count on me)

Both agreed in silence and he walked away. You were observing him when your sister's voice made you gasp.

- Send the kids to bed, please Sister.

You jumped when you heard your siste, she walked on the way to the beach where you saw your Uncle going too, you got angry for a moment, why does she never listen? You're sure someone already saw where she was going you already can hear the whispers full of rumors, you did as she asked you to do.

You were looking for Rhaenyra but instead of her, you found Aegon, he was sitting at the stairs, clearly drunk.

- Aegon, stand up.

- I saw you, why do you look for him...

He murmured. You sighed, you had a lot for one day to now handle a drunk teenager, luckily, Otto Hightower appeared at your back, you heard his steps and simply observed him, he neglected with his head, he's as pissed as you.

You were leaving when you felt Aegon pulling up the skirt of your dress murmuring to not leave him, you decide to continue walking, leaving him with his grandfather. Suddenly Aemond's face appears in front of you, he's looking for Aegon.

- Brother.

He says while he looks at the two men behind you.

- Let's go Aemond, Aegon does not feel well.

You walked with him while the sad roaring of Vhagar echoes around the land, the big shape hidden in the clouds makes the day look even more dark and Aemond leaves your side to observe the dragon's shadow. You heard Otto yelling at Aegon.

- Get up and go to sleep!.

Moments later Laenor appears also a little drunk and sobbing, it's understandable from him but still it is not the proper thing to do.

For you that was enough, you needed to rest, you decided to go to your chambers and sleep. You were writing some letters to send to the north when you saw a giant dragon passing by, flying in front of your window, the wind made your candles turn off.

«I need lights please, Guida!» you asked one of your maidens, you weren't thinking about why or who could be flying on a dragon at these hours, you weren't prepared for another issue to end the day.

A quick knock on your door and your guard appearing without waiting for your response.

- My princess, something happened between your nephews and one of the queen's sons. Your presence is requested since we can't find your sister.

You didn't waste time and leave your bedroom. When you arrived the king and his wife were there, the children and some guards, everyone except for your sister, her husband and your uncle.

You quickly approached to Aemond but Alicent stopped you, silently pushing you away. So you went to your nephews and your uncle's daughters, checking if they were as hurt as Aemond while the King was demanding for answers.

- The prince was attacked by his own cousins.

- You swore to protect me and my family!

- I'm sorry, your grace but we never defeated a prince from another.

The news of Aemond's lost eye was echoing in the room when Alicent smacked Aegon's face. He quickly observes around looking for you, you've seen that face before, those sad eyes that beg for some help.

Corlys and Rhaenys arrived and Rhaenys went directly to the girls, right behind them was your sister who ran to the boys.

The scandal starts when all the children want to say their own version about what happened.

You only could hear Jace saying «He called us bastards».

The king demanded Aemond to say the truth while Alicent accused Lucerys of trying to kill her son, you started to feel fire going up to your head while Rhaenyra confessed the boys were called bastards and they were merely defending themselves.

Alicent's attitude makes your blood boil more every time she intervenes, you don't know how long you will control yourself. Your father simply wants the boys to apologize between them, but Alicent is not pleased.

- That is not enough, aemond has lost an eye (...)

- I can't return his eye (...) what do you want me to do?

- There's a debt that must be paid. I want an eye from her son.

You quickly placed yourself in front of Lucerys while Rhaenyra hugged him an Jacaerys.

Everybody exchanged concerned looks while the King was trying to calm his wife.

- If the king doesn't want to make Justice, the queen will. Ser Criston, bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon.

Ser Criston doubts for a second but you know the man would do it happily, you already have your own dagger in your belt. You will not let that man get close to the boy.

- Don't you dare Sir. Criston, or you will not live to see another day.

You simply say and the man looks again at the queen and king.

- I'll let him choose which one, a privilege my son didn't have.

Lucerys was afraid and Rhaenyra was telling him no one would do such a thing when you talked again.

- I'll give the eye the queen demands, I'll sacrifice myself, but she will have to come and take it by herself.

You look at Alicent, defiant, you show and offer her your dagger she observes you confused and angry, you know she will lose her patience soon and that appearance she shows to everyone about being devoted to her duty and always doing the right thing will fall at any second it is just necessary to push her a little bit more.

- Enough!

Your father demands and you stop, stepping back.

There are some exchanging words, between Alicent, Ser Criston and your father. Your father was declaring and warning no one was allowed to talk or doubt about the legitimacy of Rhaenyra's children, when Alicent took your father's dagger and ran to Rhaenyra who was already walking to leave the room.

You heard your father calling her and quickly put the boys behind you while Rhaenyra walked to Alicent. Her rage makes her hard to handle but your sister tries her best, Lucerys yells terrified and you hug him.

You saw Criston walking to the two women and before he could, your uncle appeared just in time to stop him.

Suddenly, your sister falls against Corlys, your father's dagger is on the floor while Alicent looks in horror at your sister's forearm.

Silence, just some baby steps can be heard in the room, Aemond walks in front of both women, looking at his mother.

- Don't feel sorry for me, it's a fair exchange, I've lost an eye but I've won a dragon.

Those words, mature enough for a child were the end of that bitter night, the claim of Vhagar was the drop that spilled the glass, that was the moment when silently everyone confirmed who they would support, Green or black.

For the greens it was a victory, Aemond brought the biggest dragon to their side, but the blacks haven't moved their piece yet.

The night vanished, and the sunlight was filling every room, you were at your sister's chamber helping her with the boys while her forearm wound was being cleaned. Laenor appeared, he clearly didn't have a clue about the night y'all had. Your sister asks all of you to leave the room and everyone disappears as fast as possible.

During the afternoon, your sister asked you to go with her and Daemon, she was going to propose something important.

«I can't confront the greens by myself» (...) «We're fire»

The next thing you knew, it was your uncle and your sister would get married, Laenor would fake his own death, a quick one with a few people, all that to escape and live the life he really wanted. Of course the entire kingdom would murmur and blame Rhaenyra for Laenor's death, but only some of you will know the truth, not the enemy, they will believe whatever they want and at the end they will just fear.

A not so secret wedding was celebrated, and the news of the warrior princess flying to the north gave something to talk about, something to worry about.

[leportraitducadavre]

“Sarada is the first Uchiha that awoke her MS out of a sense of pure love, unlike the rest of them that were rooted in hatred –she’s the first one to break the “Hatred Cycle” of the clan.”

*sighs* Listen, there’s nothing I’d like more than to leave Boruto and all of its byproducts behind for good, yet over and over again the rabid anti-Sasuke fandom comes back to trash on the original characters of the show for the sole purpose of chanting “old Uchiha bad, new Uchiha good” around a barely lit pit fire.

Allow me to quickly break this notion, as it doesn’t need much more inspection than a faint passing of our eyes through the original series to debunk it.

After hearing Naruto is sealed away alongside Hinata and everyone blames Boruto, Sarada starts crying and, in desperation, asks her dad to “help Boruto”, awakening her Mangekyou Sharingan.

[Contrary to what I initially believed as I thought she might be asking for help as she couldn’t move, she’s not injured, she appears to be (at most) in shock due to everything that Boruto has to face, so, in case you’re one of those Naruto fans that are used to have pretty plot-relevant, emotional moments after the initial awakening of an Uchiha’s MS, let me tell you: That’s not happening, at all.]

Regardless of the minuscule and for real, for real, not sarcastic at all, very-well thought and constructed attempt to empower a character whose relevance to the main plot lies in the fact that she is the only daughter of Boruto's mentor, many stans of the child saw this opportunity to trash on Sasuke’s power as an Uchiha (you know, the reincarnation of Indra itself), and to justify such an awakening of one of the most powerful forms of the Sharingan under the premise that “it’s a different type of awakening because it’s linked to love, not hatred.”

So, in order to fact-check such affirmation, let’s see how other characters achieved the Mangekyou:

Sasuke:

Sasuke awakes his MS originally from learning the truth behind his family’s genocide; before this (and I mean, chapters before this, as his MS is dedicated a total of three chapters) Obito explained that the Uchiha were planning a coup and that Itachi, to protect Konoha and his brother, committed the annihilation of his entire kin following the government’s orders. We see him crying before a new resolution is reached: destroy Konoha. His MS awakes due to his pain which turns to complete anger.

However, you wouldn’t believe how Sasuke has conscious access to both Mangekyou:

That’s right folks, he has conscious access over his right MS by thinking of those he wants to protect, Team Taka and Team 7. So this “hatred” cycle that powers up his Sharingan is fuelled by one thing and one thing only: love.

Furthermore,

Sasuke got conscious access over his left MS technique when trying to save Karin, as she’s a very dear comrade of his. Something similar happened when he awakened his Sharingan versus when he got conscious access to it when trying to save Naruto.

[Sasuke awoke the Sharingan when he was eight years old, so the idea that “haha, Sarada awoke her MS when she was younger than him so she’s better!” is stupid as he awoke it when he was at least four years younger when facing the genocide of his people, unlike her that got it from daddy issues. In fact, awakening MS or the Sharingan before or after has nothing to do with the person's capacity as a ninja as it solely depends on the traumatic events that said person experiences. It's safer to say that her emotional threshold is significantly lower than her father's given the "peaceful" times in which she grew up than to claim a "superiority" based upon the age they both experienced traumatically enough events to influence their chakra and develop or evolve their doujutsu.]

Obito:

Obito, somewhat similar to Sasuke (and this is due to their feelings, as they’re heartbroken and such pain triggers their raw hate), awakes his MS when he sees the girl he loves get killed by the boy he started to consider a friend when he was twelve/thirteen years old. His feelings are so strongly connected to his Sharingan that they also evolve the doujutsu that Kakashi possesses.

However, there’s a striking difference between how Obito awakened his Sharingan (basic form) and how Sasuke or even Sarada did as he achieved such power when trying to save his comrades.

[Sasuke awoke the Sharingan due to the pain he felt when seeing his parents get killed by his brother, which turned into hatred when Itachi "explained" his reasons. Meanwhile, Sarada got her Sharingans due to the pain she felt when her father didn't recognize her, which turned into fear when he threatened to kill her.]

Obito’s Sharingan was completely awakened by a sense of protectiveness over those dear to him, in other words, love. 

Every single Sharingan or evolution of the same doujutsu is driven by the same emotion. From there, it either derivates to different states (pain, hate, grief, and so on), or it doesn’t, but no Uchiha can access either form without feeling a strong positive connection with someone or something they are trying to protect.

P.S: Unrelated, but look how pretty Kishimoto's art is compared to Ikemoto's (who also sexualizes minors constantly, as this is the cover of the newest volume), Sasuke looks so ugly and Sarada's MS is the most awful thing I've ever seen. No wonder the manga is flopping. Yikes.

Edit to add: It’s devastatingly hilarious how the whole point of Sarada’s Mangekyou wasn’t even about her; nor her power, nor the relevance of her bonds, it was about making a powerful enough moment for Sasuke to believe her and help Boruto! Everything becomes, yet again, about Sasuke.

[tabathawillet]

My first post! 😹 I’m still not super tumblr savvy yet so forgive me.

‼️WARNING‼️

RHRN SPOILERS….

My theory after watching the movie.

I was never a ‘Terzo is coming back’ believer but after watching the movie three times it makes me think maybe it could be.

1. The twins: one had light hair and one had dark, Copia had lighter hair than Terzo.

2. Sister said everything is circulation, which means things come back around.

3. There are lots of theories about him not being actually dead. In their virtual game, it said Terzo didn’t have an autopsy. His foot moved in the morgue, the scratches on the coffin, Etc. (I personally don’t believe the magazine cover with Copia holding Terzo’s head is “cannon” but even so, Tobias sometimes retcons his own lore, but i believe he does it purposely) I think if Terzo were the other twin (meaning he is imperator’s son too) she wouldn’t have killed him, besides it makes sense that COPIA was the “secret” twin because Nihil wasn’t aware of him at first, he didn’t even know Imperator was Copia’s mother, because although he’s a dickhead I’m sure he can do the math, so it makes sense that she gave him the son that looked more like him (Terzo) and kept Copia a secret. I also don’t know how she would have finally told all her truths on her deathbed to ease her mind and kept the other twin a secret.

4. Copia’s name means copy and everyone said he was a copy of Terzo. Their original hairstyles were similar. They had the same style and aesthetic. They even do some of the same moves and rifts with songs. So maybe it’s been in our face the whole time, as is often the case with Tobias hiding things in plain sight.

5. When Copia was introduced sister said someone “slightly younger” we all assumed Terzo’s age because of the “he’s three months younger than Secondo” thing, but in the movie Nihil said that he’s 80 and for now let’s consider the 4 sons he has: the Papas. In the new song, it’s based in 1969, it said 15 years was 1984 & 55 years was 2024. So Copia is 55, I could easily see Terzo as 55 too, he wasn’t graying yet when he “died” and neither was Copia at that time. In fact sometime last year the mask maker that Tobias uses posted a Copia looking mask with Terzo’s black hair.

6. The whole shoe bit in the movie seemed like a nod to Terzo’s hole in his shoe and served no other purpose that I could think of.

7. The movie is literally titled from a Terzo song, and in that video at the end there are two Terzos and that’s where Copia was introduced. If I’m not mistaken Tobias did an interview and said there was another hint in that video that no one caught yet.

8. I think Tobias is a genius and he knows Terzo was a fan favorite and he has potential, he became a favorite BEFORE Ghost really blew up from MOAC. But I don’t think he will be the one who tours. I think Terzo will be used in the chapters. The movie went out of its way to explain some lore to us that we already knew JUST so it could be pointed out that “Technically” Copia is the “5th Papa”. Copia didn’t want to stop touring, he asked “who’s in charge” and at the end it’s him, he could totally say no I’m not done and continue touring while we have some great content online of the brothers bickering especially now that I think we will do all the chapters with Alex the director now. I believe the chapters are about to massively increase in quality and production.

9. I also think the soundtrack might be the only album we get this year, if the interview with Richie is correct and he’s doing things with Ghost in November. Also there was a recent post about someone from Iron Maiden being asked if Ghost would tour with them later this year and he said no Ghost wants to do an arena tour. Copia (as Cardinal) and Terzo both did 3 years of tours so a third leg of this last album cycle isn’t out of the question especially after the issues they encountered on the last tour with venues/weather/cancelled shows.

10. Finally and this is just my hopeful thinking. I don’t think Tobias would take Copia from us when we didn’t have a fair chance to “meet” him at meet and greets as Papa. There was only the small opportunity during the 2022 tour with masks and plexiglass and it wasn’t ideal. I just don’t feel like he’s okay with that, but maybe it’s just my wishful thinking! 😹

[allyriadayne]

could you talk more about the daynes post robert's rebellion?

SURE

first of, this is mostly my hcs, speculations and a mix of things i must have read back when there was the height of asoiaf meta in 2013 because there is almost nothing about the daynes post robert's rebellion. so bear with me.

just to set the scene, the members of house dayne left after the mess of the rebellion were the unnamed older brother of ashara and arthur, the lord and father of edric; allyria the youngest sister that i headcanon to be much younger than her older siblings seeing as she is betrothed to beric dondarrion who is was in his twenties per agot so i don't think the marriage would've occurred if allyria was in her middle thirties or forties if she was closer to ashara and arthur; edric, twelve years old, beric's loyal squire; and gerold aka darkstar head of high hermitage, also in his twenties? around arianne's age.

(c) Eddie Mendoza for the cover of A Song of Ice and Fire 2025 Calendar

under the cut because i'm crazy

i don't know if the books are ever going to make clear what happened at the toj-starfall zone but we can be sure only that ned went from one to the other with lyanna's bones and supposedly baby jon to return dawn to the daynes. ashara had a baby of father unknown and shortly after ned was there she took her own life, body never found. i go back and forward in thinking if ashara's brother lord dayne was there with her when ned went or if he was one of the dornish commanders defending the targs. in any case, his presence was completely zero during this time so i think he was too injured for a time or too sickly in general to do something to reestablish the dayne name in dorne after arthur being an important part in elia's disgrace and indirectly, her murder.

because yeah after arthur and ashara's death and going by the books there is zero mention of them, even in the chapters set in dorne or others about dornish characters make no mention of them. and it's strange considering that when you read awoiaf and f&b, the daynes are The knights of dorne. queen nymeria marries a dayne, sends a starfall king to the wall, meria martell commands a dayne to burn oldtown, arguably one of the most powerful cities of the time, out of all the sons of daeron ii and myriah martell, maekar marries a dayne, the only dornish lady. it could be nothing OR something but i think it does mean something. we see there's no daynes in oberyn's party in kl or speculation in general about the new sword of the morning beyond remembering dear old arthur. they've fallen completely into obscurity. the house was reduced to a young girl and its child lord.

edric's dad dies before agot (he doesn't seem to afflicted by his death when he meets arya if he were less than a year dead, inheriting the lordship at such a young age would've been dramatic to him), i would say just after becoming a page to beric dondarrion at 7 yo and i headcanon the marriage between beric and allyria was brokered at this time too. this was part of a fic i was writing like 500 years ago but i think lord dayne must have known he would not live too long, not to see edric grow so he must have looked for someone to prepare and take care of allyria and edric after he died. betrothing allyria to a marcher lord is......strange. if a dornish person would have to be married to someone it would go like this 1) not from the reach 2) not from the marches in that order, there is too much bad blood. the daynes have a longstanding tradition of killing oakhearts so marrying allyria to the heir of blackhaven and giving him his only heir, lord dayne entrusted a complete stranger with the future of his house.

beric would've been in charge of teaching young edric just about everything. he would be living in the stormlands for almost half his live, learning from a his maester and how to govern a stormlands' castle. meanwhile, allyria in a few years probably around agot time would be ready to marry beric when she reached her majority. she would've been the defacto ruler of starfall in edric's name when lord dayne dies, i think the idea was to swap when edric gained his spurs: he would return to starfall after a successful run as a tourney knight, probably gaining some recognition from whatever beric was tasked with at the capital (rip king) and then accompany allyria to be married to his knight master. andddd fin.

the thing is. allyria being so young during the rebellion, lord dayne absence for whatever reason and then dying, let the younger members with no connections in the wider dorne political context. it is said young children go to the water gardens and it's fun yeah but it's def a starting point for politics for many lords. it's close to the martells and it's an opportunity to make friends with future rulers, /everyone/ is going. the daynes didn't have this. allyria was probably very young when the rebellion happened (i think no older than 5) and for obvious reasons she was not sent to the water gardens; as for ned, i think lord dayne could not secure an invitation, this or he died too early to even try. if allyria had gone, she would've been for sure one of arianne's companions, she has both the breeding and the standing, but NOT and it's crucial, the reputation. see what arianne has to say in affc about gerold's standing:

"He is highborn enough to make a worthy consort, she thought. Father would question my good sense, but our children would be as beautiful as dragonlords."

it's must be passé to associate with the daynes at this point. think of the conningtons losing all standing when joncon lost the battle and was exiled.

in any case, allyria, more than edric, grew in obscurity. as of the books she's betrothed to a marcher lord nobody knows if he's alive or dead, has a missing nephew and it's in charge of one of the most ancient first men houses of westeros. sad! at least ned is having more fun. which leads me to darkstar. i see his thirst to prove himself, his notoriety as a cruel knight as another way to separate himself from what the main branch has fallen into. he is in his twenties so he was probably affected by the same dark cloud as the others.

"If I led a quarter of a million men to death, would they call me Gerold the Great? I shall remain Darkstar, I think. At least it is mine own."

he wants to have what arthur had, but not be the sword of the morning, he wants something that it's his own, as he says. he may want the sword and the fame like arthur, but not to be associated with another's bad luck so to speak. it's very telling that he's called one of "the most dangerous man in dorne" and what is the sword of the morning if not this? he's a dark mirror of the daynes pre rebellion, just like allyria would've been a renown beauty just like ashara is she wasn't cloistered. something something gerold and allyria as mirrors of what could've happened to ashara and arthur if they hadn't the protection of the monarchy.

i once read gerold is meant to have young ned's plot after germ scrapped the five year time skip and i think this is half true. i do think there is something to be done about dawn the sword and i think gerold is going to steal it and do something with it, something ned can't do because he's /still/ in the riverlands. i don't know what but i think it ties nicely with the theme of deconstructing the noble knight archetype. arthur is only great because he knew how to kill.

writing this i had a breakdown about the parallels between arthur and gerold

to finish this rambling i want to say my hopes for house dayne in what is left of asoiaf is 1) ned alive 2) gerold steals dawn 3) and like. something. honestly i will take anything at this point about allyria. DOES SHE EVEN KNOW? my poor girl and 4) if germ wants to clear the toj situation then it's fine.

thanks for asking and to anyone reaching this point lol. this is mostly general but if you want to talk about anything specific just message me! k thx muah!

[starrclown]

Random things in my Hazbin Hotel rewrite that I added for lore, character, or because I think it's cool

(I might do this for my Helluva Boss rewrite because these take up alot of brain space and I wanna infodump so Tumblr is my bitc-)

Triggerwarning: Talks of death, suicide, murder, other nasty stuff.

Angel has a daughter named Isabella. (This is Angel Dust. I took the Dust out of his name because in my rewrite Angel is ashamed of his drug addiction. I wanna clarify incase someone gets confused.)

Angel and Husk were born in the same year, 1891. Angel died at 56 while Husk died at 86.

Husk and Valerie (Vaggie)are probably the most innocent at the Hotel.

Angel, Alastor, and Nifty have all killed people. Nifty has only killed one person, her husband.

Both Angel and Nifty were married when they were alive.

Sir Pentious is now a girl. She is now Madame Pentious.

Husk is Transgender.

Husk has a Russian background. He also knows Russian.

Angel and his family are not from America. His family are immigrants from Italy. They came to America when he was about 7.

Alastor is black. He's not mixed anymore.

Cherrie is almost deaf. She can hear somewhat but she is almost excessively deaf from being around explosions all her life.

Angel is blind in his right eye. Things... happened to it.

Since Cherrie is hard hearing and Angel has only one eye, they help each other alot. Angel learned sign language to talk to Cherrie if she's having a hard hearing day. Cherrie usually walks around with Angel if he's in a unfamiliar area.

Both Alastor and Angel are overlords. (I'm gonna have to work out what makes a overlord a overlord )

Charlie is a doll. Litteraly. Her parents made her with demonic magic. (More like a puppet but you get it.)

Charlie has a bad relationship with Lucifer. Lilith on the other hand is a loving an attentive mother.

Valerie even though she doesn't look like it, is very good with certain weapons. Not good with hands on though.

Mimzy and Angel are good friends.

Vox and Velvette don't like Valentino. They stick it out with him because their territories are objectively smaller than Valentinos. They are both weaker than Valentino.

Vox and Valerie have the biggest inferiority complex out if the main cast.

Tom Trench has had a crush on Katie Killjoy for about 20 years now. Katie is aware of it. She toys him along all the time.

Valerie can't speak.

Vox and Angel have a brother like relationship. Velvette shares the same thing with Angel. Only Velvette likes it.

Nifty was the youngest to die. She's 18.

Husk was the oldest to die.

Considering Nifty died so young she often can revert to a teenage life mindset. When someone (Mostly Angel) treats her like a child because that's what she is, she gets upset. Really upset. She doesn't understand why everyone treats her diffrently.

Nifty also tries to argue that she's grown up because she not only had a husband, she has to be bad like a adult because she's in hell.

Alastor shows blantent favoritism when it comes to the treatment of Husk and Nifty. (Hint: Husk ain't the favorite.)

Alastor is actually pretty nice. Despite how evil his is he is genuinely kind to most people. He was raised to be a gentlemen so he never really let that go as a adult.

When you die, after a significant amount of time, you can recive objects from your human life. There is two ways you can obtain objects from your human life. You either have it on you when you die or someone gives it to you as you die. Like being buried with a object or a object being set on your grave. This is how Angel has some memories of his family, someone set a scrap book on his grave. He has his necklace cause he was wearing it when he died.

Angel killed himself. He intentionally overdosed.

Charlie has biased when it comes to sinners. She's unaware of it but it's there. Charlie shows favoritism to younger sinners and to sinners who died from unnatural causes or to wronged sinners. This is demonstrated in the main cast. Charlie treats Nifty, Valerie, and Alastor better than Angel and Husk. She doesn't treat them hostility by any means but she gives alot more leeway to those three then Angel and Husk. She treats Angel objectively worse. If something bad happens and Angel has a part in it, then Angel will most likely take blame. She treats them worse for diffrent reasons. Angel because he killed himself and Husk because of how long he lived.

While Charlie doesn't like killing sinners, she will if pushed far enough.

Angel hides what he actually looks like. He didn't come down to hell looking as he does currently.

Valerie will do almost anything to get validation. Her self hatred is that big.

I have more but this is getting long.

Ask questions if you want. If your curious.

- ⭐️StarClown⭐️

[wardenparker]

The Viper's Bride - ch 13

Oberyn Martell x female reader x Ellaria Sand x OC Co-written with @absurdthirst

The second Prince of Dorne has lived under the illusion that he would not be forced to wed for his entire life. He has enough lovers and illegitimate children to make him a legend across Westeros, and the love of his soulmate Ellaria Sand to content him. But a contract between his brother and a lord from the north will catapult him into a match that may prove to be as complicated as it is intriguing. Especially when he learns that you already have a soulmate of your own.

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 12.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: terrible parents, age gap 10+ years, arranged marriage, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, internalized homophobia. Reader is described as having hair long enough to braid. This is a MMFF polycule, folx. Get on board or don't click to keep reading. Pregnancy!* Fluff, support, love, and surprises. Summary: Margaery learns the truth about what Raeden means to you, and it leads to an unexpected conversation. Notes: Listen, I just think Margaery needs a hug and some time to chill, okay?

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12

The days blend into weeks and the trial continues to drag on. Luncheons with Queen Margaery blur together, dinners at your own table in your chamber make way every evening to hours in bed. The idea of being anywhere besides the comfort of your lovers’ arms each night is now impossible, although all four of you do not always sleep in one bed. It is more frequent, though, and always a comfort.

“Are you sure you wish for me to join?” Every day when Margaery extends the invitation to Raeden to join you for the midday meal, he asks you. Not wishing to impose, even though the request is from the queen.

“Of course.” He always asks, and your reply is always the same. Raeden’s company is always wanted for you and Ellaria, but apparently also for the queen.

“I did not know if there were things you wished to discuss privately.” He murmurs softly, feeling proud when you wrap your arm around his.

“Anything I could say privately, can be said with you present,” you remind him gently. Since the revelation of having more than one soulmate, you had promised your lovers that you would never keep a secret from them again. It had made you wholly uncomfortable and upset to do so.

“Just so,” Margaery agrees, motioning to the table that has been laid, indicating the three of you should sit. “We are all friends, are we not?”

“It is an honor to be considered a friend, your highness.” Raeden doesn’t understand why Margaery seems so interested in him eating with her, but he has enjoyed getting to know the younger woman.

“Hopefully it is not a consideration that is one sided.” She sits at the round table in her customary chair and wine is poured immediately.

The young man who serves each luncheon is under the impression you do not much enjoy wine and has begun to serve you sweetened lemon juice with water added, which seems to be more to your taste. In fact, wine was the first thing to start tasting bitter and undesirable since you found yourself with child. Ellaria had laughed and said children were like that – that you lost taste for things and gained taste for others because of them.

“Thank you, as always, for so graciously hosting us.” Raeden tells her with a small smile after taking a sip of his wine. Despite the two enchanting soulmates he possesses, there is something about the widowed queen that is easy to be around.

“It is a comfort to have such steadfast company,” She admits, her smiles having changed over the weeks from painted on, to weak, and soft and true. “I have you both to thank for that.” Ellaria is always a welcome presence as well, but Margaery understands the older woman has no taste for politics and the trial specifically. It is a distaste that she shares, though she cannot afford to express it.

“The company is always marvelous with the Princess.” He acknowledges, sending you a small smile and reaching for a piece of fruit that you have been craving ravenously the past few days.

“I would call you a flatterer except I appreciate the compliment.” Your own smile is relaxed, and you anticipate the fresh-looking apricot with gratitude. “Raeden is never insincere,” you assure the queen. “It is one of his virtues.”

“There is no merit to being insincere.” He defends with a small shrug. “If you cannot trust a man’s word, you cannot trust him.”

"That is not, unfortunately, the type of opinion one normally hears from noblemen." Margaery acknowledges as dishes of meat, vegetables, and fresh rolls are unveiled on the table before them. "What shall we talk about today?"

“I think that the two lovely ladies I have the privilege of dining with should choose.” He decides with a wink. “Anything you would like.”

"I cannot say that I have very much new to speak of," you hum, still playing the news of your pregnancy very close to your vest. No one knows beyond your small family and the maester, who has graciously been admitting you to the Citadel once weekly at Oberyn's request to make sure your health stays at its peak. "Perhaps you will be willing to speak of something older, then?" Margarey sits up in her seat while her plate is filled on her behalf, used to the ceremony although she dislikes being treated like a doll. Not being allowed to do anything for herself is immensely taxing on the mind. "You speak so well of each other, yet I know nothing of your bond beside the fact that Lord Raeden was once your guard, during his time serving your father."

The question is one that was loaded, and Raeden looks towards you to see you if you unwilling to tell the truth. If you were, he would say nothing, but there is a small nod when he catches your eye and he realizes that the fear of what people will think is now a thing of the past. Perhaps your mother’s departure from King’s Landing and your earnest conversations with your father have made it so. However, he thinks it has a lot to do with your marriage to Oberyn and his complete acceptance of the situation. “The strange truth is, your highness, the princess is my soulmate.”

Whatever she might have been expecting, that is certainly not it, and Margaery's glass nearly cracks at how hard she sets it down on the table. "Gods above," she murmurs, looking between you both with wide eyes. "Truly?"

"Truly." When you nod you also reach for Raeden's hand, placing yours on top of his on the table. "We have been fortunate to be able to hold on to each other through despite many challenges."

A million different questions roll through her brain at once as she sees your joined hands. Wondering if she was being tricked as some elaborate plot, but there is obvious affection for each other in your gazes. “I— does the Prince know?” She asks quietly, lowering her voice and leaning in.

"He has known since before we were married." You nod, interested to note that she seemed genuinely concerned. As though the happiness of those involved was a priority, which would be a welcome thing if it turns out to be true.

“That is….” She shakes her head gently. “Wonderful. I have heard that the prince is open in many ways but the fact that he is accepting of your soulmate?” She sighs softly. “You are blessed by the Seven.”

"I cannot deny it." It would be a terrible lie to claim otherwise, and you have no desire to do so. "To love my husband and my soulmate equally is a blessing that I had never looked for but am very glad to have found."

"You love the prince?" She seems shocked by that admission and her eyes dart over to Raeden's to see if there is any jealousy. None are found in his dark orbs and she is equally intrigued by such a thing.

“Very much.” And the freedom to feel that in your bones without hesitation — to accept it as you always accepted your love for Raeden — is something wonderful. “Of course it is not common to love more than one person at once. But it can be done, and it can be gloriously fulfilling.”

"Yes." Margaery would not disagree with such a thing; she knows that the heart and what you are supposed to want are sometimes conflicting things. It was why she had been willing to share her first husband. "And the Prince's lover?" Ellaria has become dear to her, but she does not quite understand the dynamic.

Oberyn and Ellaria are not shy or secretive about their relationship or what they are to each other, so when Raeden sits up in his chair a little straighter he does not feel as if he is betraying anyone’s confidence. “Soulmates as well,” he tells the queen.

“I was lucky to find myself betrothed to a man who also understood not being able to marry the person he loves.” You know this, and yet it is the happiest part of the unfortunate way you came together. “Fortunately for Ellaria, she did not wish to be princess and I was well prepared for the duty.”

"I see." She takes a sip of her wine and mulls over the information that you have just given her. It would be likely that whoever married Lord Raeden in the future, to establish his house, would have to be accepting of sharing her husband. Despite men doing as they wish for centuries, it did not mean that women had accept it quietly.

“This is not what you expected to hear, I think?” Her manner makes that obvious, and you sit up to your plate with interest as well as hunger.

Raeden finishes pealing and slicing the fruit, sliding it onto your plate and smiling when you hum. "It is an odd thing to hear from anyone, my love." He reminds you. "Especially from nobility and even more so from the Princess of Dorne."

“Perhaps.” You can agree to that, and pick up a slice of fruit eagerly. “But friends are honest, are they not?”

Margaery hums in agreement and she nods. "Do you...may I come to your chambers tonight to discuss our honesty?" She asks with a raised brow.

You exchange a small glance with Raeden but you both know the answer. It does not bear discussion, though you will be returning to the trial chambers early to tell Oberyn and sending a message back to Ellaria. “Certainly,” you answer with authority, and admittedly you are intrigued. She has not yet discussed any plans with Oberyn but apparently the time has come. “We would be honored.”

"Thank you." She bows her head towards the both of you with a relieved smile. "I will not come right after the end of the day's trial. I think we all should need a brief rest from the testimony."

“It has been a trying time,” Raeden agrees as you all begin to eat. “Hopefully the end is now in sight and the entire ordeal can be out to rest with justice.”

"Yes, justice." She knows as well as you and Raeden that the Lannisters would never allow anything but the outcome they wanted, even with Oberyn as a judge.

“We can hope.” Raeden says again, knowing that is all it is.

"Have you and the prince decided when you will leave for Dorne?" She asks curiously. "As soon as the trial is over? Or will you stay for the next royal affair?"

“His commitment to the Small Council will be at an end with the trial and he is anxious to be home again.” In fact, you are anxious for it too, but because of your pregnancy. You hate to think what traveling by sea would be like in another few months of time. “And there is the establishment of Lord Raeden’s new House to attend to.” You beam at him, happy to not have to mark your pride in him or joy at his elevation.

“I have a feeling that your house will prosper.” She tells Raeden with a smile. “You are more noble than most men who carry lesser titles.”

“It is a great deal of work to begin a noble house. I admit I had little idea of the details necessary to tend to.” He sips his wine and eats politely, always with one eye on you and the other on the queen. “But I am equal to the task, and your Grace’s kindness is most appreciated.”

“Perhaps my house would be able to aid in some small way.” She offers. “Since you have been so kind to me. My father recently mentioned that he has noticed that I am less mournful, the credit was given to my wonderful companions.”

“Any aid from House Tyrell would lend immense credibility to the future of House Sunstone.” Having mulled it over in his mind, Raeden had eventually decided on the new name Oberyn suggested second. Dragonstone had sounded presumptuous to him the more he thought about it.

“Sunstone?” She blinks and then a true, bright smile blossoms on her face. “I must say that I am envious of such a beautiful name. I own a sunstone ring that is quite precious to me.”

“The good fortune of being able to forge my own path comes with the prince’s grace.” He knows that. He understands the debt and does not mind paying it two hundred times over if it means he can bring honor to his family and to Dorne. “But I am sure your treasured ring is as stunning as its owner.” Paying a compliment to a beautiful woman, especially one who has been good company to both of you and particularly kind to him, is an easy task for Raeden. Very easy indeed.

Margaery pauses for a moment, surprised that there isn’t even the tiniest hint of jealousy that crosses your face and she bestows a pleased smile on both of you. Picking up her cup and lifting it. “To House Sunstone, May it prosper under the Dornish sun.”

“I will drink to that every time,” you agree, raising your own glass in proud salute.

Raeden’s eyes flash and glitter, both deeply proud and deeply pleased, when he raises his glass to you and the queen in return. His blessings have been innumerable and she could not be more grateful. “My thanks to you both,” he acknowledges, his smile genuine. “With such support as this, I cannot see a future for House Sunstone that is not as bright as its namesake.”

******

For some reason, Raeden is nervous as he escorts you back to the rooms. There’s an idea that has been running through his mind since that luncheon and he doesn’t know what you or Ellaria would think about it. Even though he had spoken to Oberyn about it vaguely, it would affect you two most of all.

“You seem distracted, my love.” As he pushes open the door to your chambers, you frown slightly. Oberyn should be a few minutes behind you and Ellaria will be waiting inside, so this moment is only for you and Raeden. “Is the trial weighing on you?”

“No.” He knows that he needs to talk to you. The honesty that has been promised demands it. “I have been thinking about the future of my house.”

“A matter far dearer to our hearts.” You offer him a reassuring smile. “What can I do to help you?”

“To remember that I love you, regardless of who I marry.” He murmurs softly.

"I have no doubt of that." Stopping in the doorway, you turn and take both of his hands, squeezing them as you look up at him. "She will have to be a strong and clever woman, and especially kind-hearted in order to deserve you, but I know you will choose well. Whoever she is, she will be very lucky." The hurt you once harbored over knowing that your marriages could never be to each other has healed. If your betrothal had turned out so wonderfully, did it not also follow that Raeden might also choose a woman who turned out to be just as joyful a choice?

“I hope you continue to think so.” He murmurs softly as Ellaria comes out of the bedroom to greet you both.

"Good evening, my loves." She moves to both of you together, putting out her arms in welcome. "How did the trial fair today?"

“It was interesting.” Raeden snorts. “The evidence against Lord Tyrion is flimsy at best.”

“Unfortunately, that does not seem to matter to Lord Tywin,” you tut sympathetically and accept the embrace happily. “What have you done with your day today, love?”

“Leyth went with me to the marketplace.” Ellaria bestows kisses on both of you and brings you inside to settle in front of the fire. “We obtained our dinner from the Dornish vendor that Oberyn loves so much, after wandering around and amusing ourselves with trinkets for a while.”

“Then Queen Margarey will be in for a treat at dinner tonight.” Raeden lifts your hand to kiss the back of it before reaching for Ellaria’s. The offer to dine with you had come naturally when she had asked to come speak with you tonight. Returning the hospitality of someone who has been so kind would not cause tongues to wag, although they still talk just because of the proximity to Oberyn.

“Yes, I think so.” Ellaria had perhaps gone slightly overboard in her ordering with the combination of impressing the queen and feeding your increased appetite on her mind, but that does not matter. “Is Oberyn still in meetings? They seem to want him for everything the longer this business goes on.”

“He is only about ten minutes behind us.” Raeden assures her. He had wished to stay back to learn some information from Lord Varys and his little birdies.

“Then come and have a drink and sit with me while we wait.” There is always wine, of course, and also teas and tisanes for you to enjoy now that your tastes are changing.

He looks to you, knowing you might prefer to lay down for a few moments. “My love.”

"Enjoy yourselves, loves." You nudge them together and stretch, offering them a soft smile. "I will lay down for a few minutes with my eyes closed, enjoying the sound of absolutely no one arguing nearby."

“Rest, my love.” He murmurs, watching as you stand and walk towards the bedroom that Ellaria had just exited.

"How was your luncheon?" Ellaria pours wine for both of them and brings Raeden to sit down in front of the fire.

“It was very enlightening.” He admits, accepting the cup and when he sits down, he pulls her into his lap.

"How so?" There is not any need to coax her into further action, and Ellaria readily trails kisses along his neck and jaw.

“She is very eager to be rid of this keep, King’s Landing, all of it.” He tells her, tilting his head back and sighing softly.

"Who could ever want to stay in this place?" It is distasteful, cold, and unfriendly, and Ellaria will be glad to leave it behind as well. The only thing worth staying for is her lovers.

“I do not know why anyone would.” He chuckles and tilts forward so he can look at his second soulmate and lover. “I wish to ask you a question.”

She pauses, drawing away from him and looking into his eyes to find determination in his dark orbs. “Anything, my love.”

“What do you think about a marriage offer to Margarey?” He asks her softly. “I know you have no desire to marry, you have made that clear, and I need a wife to give me sons and daughters.” He knows she would give him a child if she is able, but he doesn’t want to risk her health if it is too taxing on her body.

“How long have you been thinking about this?” Her head tilts in curiosity and she runs her nails soothingly over his scalp. He would not all such a question flippantly, and surely he would have weighed the pros and cons heavily before even bringing it up to anyone in their complex relationship.

“Since the luncheon with the queen today.” He confesses quietly. “It just seems as if there was a moment where I knew she would accept my relationships with you and her.” He nods towards the doorway. “She knows that she is my soulmate and is fascinated by the acceptance.”

“There is always danger in accepting new faces into a situation like ours,” Ellaria admits with a sadness that says she knows this firsthand.

“I can imagine.” He nods seriously and sighs. “I can only ask that she accept and if she cannot, then she would not be the wife for me.”

“Do not be discouraged if your first choice is not realized.” She murmurs, not wanting him to find himself upset if Margaery will be unable to keep jealousy at bay.

“I want you and our love to be involved in the decision.” He insists. “She will be in both your lives.”

"And Oberyn's." She reminds him, but she nods. "I do not envy the life Margaery Tyrell has had to live, but I certainly find her to be clever and beautiful." Leaning down, Ellaria presses a kiss to Raeden's lips as the door to their chambers creaks open. "I would not be upset to see more of her if she was your choice."

“Gods curse this trial.” Oberyn groans as he comes through the door and immediately starts to shuck his broadcoat as he walks over to the couple in the front of the fire to kiss his soulmate.

"Does it vex you so terribly, lover?" Ellaria asks before sinking in his kiss without moving an inch from Raeden's lap.

Oberyn has no issue with the other man being a part of the kiss and his tongue slides against his lips in their journey into Ellaria’s mouth. Kissing her thoroughly before he turns and brushes his nose against the other man’s.

His lack of answer and determined kiss say that yes, it does vex him, and the three of them tangle in each other to let the kiss linger until Oberyn is ready to pull away himself.

“Now I am feeling more relaxed.” He huffs, his fingers reaching out and stroking Raeden’s jaw and then Ellaria’s. “You always relax me.”

"We love you, too," Ellaria hums, her own fingers running down the prince's broad chest. "Leyth and I ordered our dinner to be delivered from the vendor you discovered in the marketplace and the princess is resting," she reports after another soft kiss. "I think they told you already that we are having a guest tonight?"

“Yes.” Oberyn’s eyes slide back to Raeden’s. “Have you broached the subject?”

"Just now." The younger man nods slightly. "With Ellaria first."

His brow ticks up curiously and he sits down next to Raeden and strokes his lover’s thigh as she sits on his lap. “And what do you think of the idea, my sun?”

"It is intriguing," she admits, holding Raeden's hand in hers as she lays back against Oberyn's chest. "Her political navigation cannot be matched, and that will be most valuable."

“That was my thinking as well. The alliance with Highgarden and the Tyrells would serve Raeden well, as well as legitimize his offspring beyond all protests.”

"And she finds our valiant knight very handsome." Ellaria acknowledges, her fingers tangled in his and holding his hand tenderly. "Of course she does. She has eyes."

“What do you think?” He asks softly. “I cannot imagine you kicking her out of bed if she decided to join us.”

"No." Shaking her head, she makes an animated frown and waves one hand freely. "I would certainly not. Young, beautiful, and curious? She will be a quick learner."

Oberyn grins and leans in to bite his lover’s chin. “I knew she would interest you.” His eyes sparkle towards Raeden. “Or would you want to keep your lady wife to yourself, Lord Sunstone?” He teases playfully.

"That is her decision," Raeden acknowledges with a huffed half-laugh. He knows the prince is teasing him, but his answer is honest. "But there is one more person to consult before the discuss is had." He nods his head toward the closed door that has so far kept you ignorant of the topic. "I do not know if it helps or hurts that they have become true friends."

“I think that it would help.” Oberyn offers, having learned the way your mind works very well over the past weeks. “Go and talk to her, make sure she knows you would not proceed without her blessing.”

"I would never." Moving Ellaria over to Oberyn's lap fully, Raeden gives each of them a kiss before pushing himself up to standing. "For the sake of transparency..." he looks down at the pair. "I have both of your blessings for this idea, if I decide to move forward with it?"

Oberyn nods. “Of course you have my blessing, it is a smart move.” He tells the younger man before he leans in to kiss Ellaria’s jaw. “Lover? What is your answer?” He doesn’t speak for her, knowing that the marks on her skin bind her to Raeden in a way that he does not have.

"It is a clever choice," she agrees, nodding her approval. "I will be proud for you if it works out, lover. If it does not, then she was not the right choice after all."

“Thank you.” He smiles at both of them, bolstered by their approval. “Now I should ask my other soulmate.” He hums, removing his boots before he moves silently towards the door.

The sun has gone down since you laid your head on the pillow of the bed you usually sleep in – though who you share it with now changes regularly. When the door opens it brings you out of the depths of your mind and you turn your head to see who has come in. "Raeden," you hum his name happily. "Are you come to beckon me into dinner, or to cuddle for a while?"

“Cuddle.” His jacket is in his hands and he drapes it over a chair before he climbs into the bed with you. “And talk, if you are agreeable to it.”

"Always, my love." As soon as he is on the bed you turn to face him and burrow into his side with a happy purr. "What is it you have a mind to talk about?"

Raeden wraps his arms around you with a happy groan, aware that he is very fortunate to be able to hold you like this at all. Perhaps he is being selfish, wanting to establish his house. “My house. My future wife.”

"Oh?" That has your ears perking and your eyes widening. The feeling of your heart in your throat is surprisingly less violent than you would have expected from this topic but it is more tinged with worry. Worry that he might have trouble finding a suitable choice who would not also endeavor to take him away from you. "Have you...made a decision?"

“I have not spoken to her about it, because you, Oberyn and Ellaria are my priority.” He assures you, squeezing you slightly and then rubbing his hand up and down your back. “If you do not approve, I will say nothing at all.”

"But you have found someone worthy of asking." It is not entirely surprising, considering you are all living at the very center of Westeros society, but still you bite your lip. It is not necessarily surprising, but it is still an enormous step forward for him.

“I have an idea.” He stresses. “One that has me reaching well above my station even as a Lord.”

It takes only a moment for your mind to race through the options with that clue in mind, and you end up with even wider eyes than before as you lean up on your elbow in his arms. "Margaery..." you breathe, looking at him in surprise. "Truly?"

It is marvelous how your mind is quick, piecing everything together. “You think that it would be a grave mistake?”

Sitting up a little straighter, you shake your head and lay your hand on his cheek. "On the contrary, my love. I think it is impossibly clever of you. She is acquainted with our situation, has a keen mind for politics, and is looking for a solution to her own situation."

“That is analytical and practical.” He leans into your touch, his warm brown eyes begging you for your opinion. “How would you feel about it personally. Spending time with Margaery and knowing that she would also carry my children, help me establish my house?”

For weeks now you had been trying to detach yourself from the idea. To think of it as something for the distant future. But that is simply not true. Raeden's House is here, and it is now, and he will need a wife to help it grow and to keep him steady. He will need someone who understands how to play the game of nobles and will be able to bear him many children. "I think she is my friend, as surprising as that is to say." Especially since the very first day that you had met her, you thought that her presence in your life would be nothing more than a passing curiosity. It has been nearly two months now and you have come to dearly enjoy the time that you spend walking, reading, or talking with the young widow. "But I know that she does not think she has much future as a bride, despite how dearly she wishes to be a mother. So I advise you that the conversation may not go the way that you think at first."

“I know that she is a higher station, that her prospects should be better than a new lord, but it would also be easier on her reputation than being found in bed with your husband.” He offers.

“She wants to be a wife,” you promise him, not realizing that your voice has gone soft with understanding. The walks that you have taken with Margaery Baratheon — who still considers herself Margaery Tyrell in her heart — have been much more revealing than you could ever have anticipated. “She wants to be a mother. And I know that she would relish the chance to make a decision about her life on her own for once. Not what her father would do, or what her grandmother orchestrates, but simply what Margaery herself desires.”

“I understand.” Raeden nods solemnly. “I will not speak a word of this to her if you wish it.” He promises. “You and Ellaria and Oberyn are my first concerns, your feelings are of high importance in this matter.” He chuckles quietly. “You will choose my wife, approve her, or I will not take one.”

“A vastly different arrangement than we had when I was married,” you chuckle softly. “I approve of the choice, my love, as long as you like her and it is not simply a political decision.”

“It is not. I think she would accept your place in my life, and Ellaria and Oberyn’s.” He confesses.

"I think she would, too." Your hand strays from his jaw, moving to his shoulder to pull him close to you. "I think it would bring more happiness than we suspect, and perhaps even sooner than we might expect." You have always known that it could not be you – for too many reasons at different times in your life you have known it. But this? If it cannot be you, and it will not be Ellaria, let it be someone you all can trust.

“I love you.” He promises you softly. “That will never change. Until my dying breath my soul is a part of yours, my body as well. My heart has been yours since we met.”

"And I love you in precisely the same way." It is not just a promise, but a statement of truth. Something that is an immovable part of your very existence in this world. "You are as much myself as I am, and I am a part of you."

“I do not want to take this step without your approval.” He admits. “I care more about your happiness than anything else.”

“I will be beside you at every turn.” Nuzzled into his side, you breathe in his reassuring presence and feel the warmth of him fill you from the tips of your toes to the top of your head.

“Of that I have no doubt.” He murmurs softly, continuing to stroke your back. “If no one will accept our situation, I will remain unwed.”

“You cannot,” you remind him quietly, though it pains you to your core to admit it. “Or your house will die before it can begin.”

He sighs softly, wanting to remind you that his house was never supposed to be before your husband. He doesn’t though, he knows you are right, he must marry. “Then we will make sure that my wife is the right one for our group.”

“I think Margaery is a wise choice,” you admit, knowing what self-doubt his sighs betray. It had taken him a long time to show you that side of himself but since he has you have done everything to build him back up in return for his shows of vulnerability. “Will you speak to her tonight?”

“I was thinking about it.” He admits. “As long as you approve. See if she would rather elope with me rather than completely ruin her reputation.”

Taking the sharp line of his jaw in your hands again, you smile and hold his eyes. This is not an easy conversation for either of you to have — considering you had dreamed in your hearts of being able to find a way to be together — but it is by far the best outcome in many ways. “I approve,” you tell him unequivocally. “Margaery has been my unexpected friend in all of this. I would be glad if she could be given a choice in her own life, and if you could have all the advantages possible for your house and your happiness for the years to come.”

“I love you.” He promises you, smiling in relief. “I love you down to your very soul and I am so grateful that you are my soulmate.”

“As I love you.” There is not anyone else in all the world you would rather be tied to by fate or love or any other matter, and the fact that you have both Raeden and Oberyn to share an equal kind of love from your own heart remains extraordinary. “We should join the others, my love. Margaery will be here soon and it promises to be a most interesting meal.”

“We should not lay here too long.” He agrees, although he leans in to kiss you softly. “We will find out if she would like to be a part of our lives.”

“You say the words but make no move to go.” Of course, you do not either. You would much rather lay here and kiss him, if you are honest.

“If I am truthful, I would rather spend the night in bed with my beautiful soulmate.” He confesses.

“After,” you promise him, sighing when he kisses along your neck. “First we must determine if you are to be a groom soon.”

“I wish it was you.” He whispers softly. “Or Ellaria.”

“Do you not like Margaery?” The idea that he might marry purely for politics bothers you immensely and you pull back from him with a frown. “If you cannot find affection for her, my love, then you should not even entertain the idea.”

“I like her.” He tells you. “She is beautiful and witty, kind and smart.” He sighs, stroking your cheek gently. “I just imagined marrying my soulmate. It is hard to swallow that I now have two and cannot marry either one.”

“You could marry Ellaria.” Although your voice is gentle there is sadness to it, and you swallow another sigh. “But she would not be happy as a lady, and I think you would not be happy to let go of the chance to do good as a lord.”

“She does not want it.” He reveals. “She and I spoke of it after the second set of marks appeared.” He chuckles. “She told me she did not marry a prince, and she would not marry me.”

“If the law allowed, I would marry you both,” you promise him, kissing his shirt over his heart.

“Still my favorite woman.” He teases, ducking his head down and pressing his lips to yours. “How are you feeling, love?”

“My head ached this afternoon, but that could have been the trial.” The attempt at a joke is half-hearted, but you both smile a little wider. “And I have been ravenous for days. I cannot think how fast a child grows in its mother’s womb, but it seems to require far more food than I ever thought a little baby could.”

“A little princess.” The idea that it will be another girl has taken root with all of them, and he also knows that you wish for one. His hand slides down and cups your stomach protectively. “If you are hungry, then our meal will not come soon enough.”

“Come, my love.” With another kiss, you are shifting on the mattress. “This is to be a very important meal.”

“Yes it will.” He huffs, following after you with the same slight grumble he has when he has to leave your embrace.

Through the doors into the main chamber, Oberyn and Ellaria are sitting in front of a window with their arms around each other when you and Raeden come in from the other room. Their expectant look makes you shoot a sly smile in Raeden's direction. "I take it I was the last to hear of your plan?"

“You were tired.” He pouts slightly, sending you a beseeching look.

"Apparently growing a baby is hard work." You wink and make your way over to the tray where Leyth has left a pot of the tea you have been favoring the week.

“I found myself equally exhausted when I was carrying my first and third.” Ellaria nods and smiles indulgently at you. “Oberyn would find me sleeping at the dinner table sometimes.”

“I will not be surprised if I follow that example.” The endearing image earns Ellaria a kiss, however, and you temporarily abandon your teapot to bestow it upon her.

She chuckles and nods. “Why do you think Oberyn has ordered pillows to be set at the tables while we eat?” She teases.

It takes you a moment, but when you examine the dining table that has been laid out for all of you with every possible accoutrement besides food — there are numerous pillows laid nearby that you simply had not noticed before. “It is a most thoughtful gesture, husband. You have been looking out for me in ways I have not even been aware of.”

“Star, that is my job.” He purrs, smirking at you and winking. Since the announcement of your pregnancy, he has been doting and he knows it will only get worse as your time gets closer and you are visibly pregnant.

“You have many jobs, I think, your Grace.” The widowed queen stands in the doorway of your chambers with a smile on her face. “Forgive me for being a few minutes early. I was eager for good company.”

Looking over at the queen, his hand is still on his lover’s thigh and he grins. “Lady Baratheon, or queen?” He shrugs slightly. “Whatever your title, we always welcome beautiful guests, come. Would you like some tea? Wine?”

“Amongst friends, might I ask to be just Margaery?” She nods in thanks to the offer of wine, knowing that she has come here tonight to rather insert herself into the situation of all of the people here. Informality seems best, especially since what she has asked Prince Oberyn to do for her – to her, with her – will snatch her from a place of royalty forever.

“Margaery.” The name drips from Ellaria’s tongue like honeyed wine as she turns to kiss her lover and stands, slowly meandering over to the wine to fill a cup for the queen. She winks at you playfully and nudges your shoulder. “Pour your tea, Princess.”

“You all seem to be in high spirits tonight.” And Margaery desperately hopes that that is genuine and not out of delight at her predicament. While she might feel her friendship with you is genuine, she still finds Prince Oberyn to be an unknown entity, while Lord Raeden and Ellaria seem sometimes inscrutable.

“Of course it is.” Oberyn slouches down into his chair a bit more and lifts his cup to his lips. “We are celebrating. What we are celebrating remains to the seen.”

“Sit, Margaery, please.” You offer her the seat beside where you usually set yourself and tut in your husband’s direction. “I will go and tell Leyth we are ready for our meal.”

Your husband chuckles and watches the queen as she sits down and sips her wine. Discreetly looking around the common area of the chambers. “Dornish.” He tells her, lifting the cup to indicate he means the wine. “Superior to the swill that Cersei gulps down.”

“Dornish wine is very fine.” Renly had preferred it, so Margaery knows the taste well enough. It’s actually a bit comforting in an odd way. Something familiar. “Thank you for allowing me to press in on you like this. I know I am not everyone’s favourite dinner guest at present.”

“No thanks needed.” Raeden interjects, sending you a smile as he sits down beside you. “You will find that the prince is very accommodating when his interest is captured.”

“Is that so?” She looks to the faces around the room with curiosity, only to be met mostly with more curiosity in return. “Then for once I count myself lucky to be considered a curiosity.”

“Tell me.” Oberyn starts. “Would you leave the North behind if you could?”

“That is not altogether an easy question,” Margaery admits. The table fills one by one as Oberyn and Ellaria join and Leyth appears with platters of food delivered by the Dornish stall in the marketplace. “I suppose if I had a very good reason to, then yes.”

“Very good.” He will accept that answer at its face value. “And what of sex? Are you prudish? I do not think so, but I must ask.”

“I—” She glances at Leyth to take stock of the girl but your maid pays the conversation no mind whatsoever – just finishes setting out trays and exits the room after checking that everything is as it should be. “I do not think so,” she admits, sounding more uncertain than she would like. “But I admit I have only a small frame of reference.”

“Not pure, good.” He chuckles at her bewildered expression. This was not the conversation she was expecting but it was raw, honest. What Oberyn was hoping for. “And your soulmate? Have you found them?”

“They died.” She fidgets in her seat, looking much younger than she normally holds herself. She looks – self-conscious and bewildered – her own age. A young woman on the edge of uncertainty. “When I was a girl. I had a mark on my belly for years and then one day it was gone.”

“You poor dear.” Ellaria tuts and reaches out to touch the Queen’s knee as she sits back down with Oberyn. “I am very sorry.”

“It could have been worse,” Margaery acknowledges. “I could have known them.” An old thought creeps through her mind that she banishes with a small shake of her head and a painted-on smile. “It is not all so terrible. Or so difficult.”

“Perhaps you will be gifted with another soulmate.” Ellaria offers kindly, knowing that most nobility never get to be with their soulmate, but she couldn’t see Raeden denying her the connection given his own circumstances.

“That would be a rare gift.” One that Margaery tended not to let herself dream about, if she could help it. There is no benefit to letting her imagination run away with her. So instead she smiles as plates begin to fill and finds herself relieved and relaxed at the idea that she will get to choose her own delicacies tonight. She did not bring her maid deliberately, so there was no one to fix her plate on her behalf.

“Would you like me to serve you, Margaery?” Raeden turns towards the younger woman with a smile. “You can direct what you wish to eat?”

“Believe it or not, I am delighted to see to myself for once.” It almost makes her blush, though, for the situation being unusual and the offer being reasonable and kind. The food on the table looks and smells Dornish which means it is new to her, but that is somehow also an unlooked for delight rather than anything else. “As I am sure the princess understands, it is a rare chance that ladies of our situation are able to choose anything for ourselves. Food included.”

“Indulge, then,” you encourage, offering your friend a smile. “Choose only what you like and give yourself a taste for Dornish spices. I promise you will not be disappointed.”

“If there is something that does not agree with you, simply choose something else.” Oberyn instructs her. “You will not offend anyone here.”

“Growing up, the food at Highgarden always had herbs and roots for flavoring, but this smells so very different. I am intrigued,” she admits with a small laugh, then changes the subject as everyone begins to fill their plates in earnest. “I trust, now that the day is at an end, everyone is in higher spirits?”

“We are normally in high spirits when we can spend the evening together, it is very pleasurable.” Raeden doesn’t mention that it is spent having pleasure, but his eyes slide over to you and Ellaria with a fair amount of heat.

“Yes.” You clear your throat in the most ladylike way possible and Ellaria grins broadly. “To be in the company of those we hold dear is very pleasurable indeed.”

Margaery feels like there is an undercurrent to the comment but she doesn’t question it. “So,” she murmurs once the plates are full and Leyth slides discreetly out of the room to wait until she is called. “Your servants, they can be trusted with this?”

“Entirely,” you promise her, knowing that the matter she came to discuss and what will be presented to her are two separate things. “Their discretion and their loyalty is complete.” Something that would be obvious if news of what had happened with your mother had ever gotten out — but because of Leyth and Cal’s impregnable loyalty, not a word had been uttered to anyone.

“It is rare that such loyalty is inspired, and it is a credit to your character.” She praises. It is rare the noble that garners much respect and loyalty from their servants, having seen the worst of them.

“It is a credit to Oberyn, and to choice,” you offer, not wanting to downplay your husband’s kindness to those he employees but also knowing that freedom of choice – to select one’s path in any way at all – was taken from Leyth and Cal in a way that was far too cruel.

“Whoever is responsible, it is a blessing to be surrounded by that kind of integrity.” She smiles as she scoops up the first bite of her food to try.

Margaery hums in delight, blissfully unaware of the four sets of eyes currently trained on her as she takes her first bites of Dornish delicacies. The roasted meats, stewed vegetables, creamy dips, and highly spiced sauces are all delicious and an indulgence they partake of often. The Red Keep’s kitchens are not equipped to create the masterpieces that Oberyn prefers so he – or one of you – will routinely order from the gentleman at the marketplace that you discovered on your walk with Oberyn.

“Delicious, is it not?” You ask, when she closes her eyes in a dreamy expression.

“It is divine.” She moans, aware that it is not ladylike but sure that no one at the table would mind. “The flavors are so…robust. I could eat this every day.”

The small smirk on your lips is pure amusement as you glance up at your husband. Ellaria’s eyes flash as well and there is a silent laugh shared between the three of you at the table. “Would that please you?” You ask conversationally. “This food came from a very talented man in the marketplace, and it is just a sampling of what Dornish delicacies can be tasted.”

“It is better than any feast displayed in the Red Keep’s dining hall.” She tells you honestly, “You must show me this vendor before you leave.”

“I will,” you promise her, managing not to give anything away by not glancing at Raeden. “Do you expect to stay in the keep long after your…plan goes into action?”

“If Cersei does not have me killed, I expect to be thrown out like the morning’s chamber pot.” Margaery jokes weakly.

“I wonder—” Raeden sits up a little taller at the table, feeling this to be his cue. “If you have considered every avenue available to solve your problem.”

“Sort of throwing myself from the tower, I believe so.” She frowns, turning towards Raeden. “Have you some idea? You are a clever man; you have taught me that during our luncheons.”

“I will take that as the highest compliment.” And an encouragement, that she thinks well of him and is not just abusing herself with his presence or inviting him out of pity. “There are other people a beautiful young noblewoman could marry, if she chose. Surely a different husband is preferable to death?”

She sighs softly, setting her fork down. “All the men who would wish to marry me are not very noble men.” She confesses. “Someone like Petyr Baelish would be the type to offer for me with the scandal an elopement would cause, for I would have to marry and bed hastily.” She smiles and reaches out to squeeze his hand. “Do you know of someone?”

Her hand is delicate. Small on his and warm, and perhaps a little uncertain though it does not tremble. “Perhaps,” Raeden nods and sets down his wine glass in turn. “What would you say if I offered myself?”

Her eyes widen and she snatches her hand back as her head swings towards you. She is not disgusted, her heart jumps in fact, but she respects you. “I— you have a soulmate here.” She gasps. “You—” she finds that you are not upset, in fact, you are obviously anticipating an answer. “You don’t mind?”

“What right do I have to dictate Raeden’s life when I have a husband and a growing family of my own?” You ask her seriously, knowing that news of your pregnancy has also not made it beyond your immediate household. On Oberyn’s advice, you had not made an announcement at court yet. That would wait until you were starting to show. “I do not wish to see you hurt, Margaery. You have been a wonderful and unexpected friend to me and to see you so desperate wounds me in ways I cannot express. If you can acceptance our situation, and the love we all have for each other, and think that you could be happy with a good, clever man just beginning his own House — then I do not mind at all. In fact, I urge you to accept.”

“You—” she’s speechless and for a moment tears swarm her vision at the prospect of freedom from this red tomb and life beyond the reach of the Lannisters. “So please tell me what I need to accept so I can decide.” She begs, wishing she could hug you.

“Firstly, that I will not give up my soulmates.” Raeden puts both of his hands on the table, offering her comfort but leaving it up to her if she chooses to accept it. “Each of us here has two soulmates, as rare as that is. I am blessed to be attached to both of these women and I will not turn away for them from any reason.”

“T-Two soulmates?” She had been reaching for her cup and nearly knocks it over in surprise as her head snaps up. Barely sloshing a large drop of the Dornish red onto her hand, she doesn’t notice as she stares at the four of you, mouth gaped open.

“It is rare, but it is true.” You confirm with a nod, understanding her shock completely. “I bare Raeden’s marks as well as Oberyn’s.”

“And Ellaria?” She looks at the other woman. “You wear Oberyn’s and Raeden’s marks?” She asks, wanting to confirm.

"I do," she nods and laces her fingers through Oberyn's. "And though I do not share marks with the princess, we do share a bed more than occasionally."

“Do you and the prince share a bed?” Margaery asks Raeden, wondering how the dynamic works. Does everyone share?

"We have not yet." He adds yet carefully, knowing that he fully intends to, and likely soon. "Would it bother you if we did?"

“No— um...” she chews her lip. “Renly was eager to bed both me and my brother, so I understand.” She explains, toying with her wine cup. “I do not have any bother with that. But you will bed me?”

It is a fair question, even if Raeden feels temporarily wounded at the idea that he would offer marriage to a woman and then not treat her as his wife. "In order to grow House Sunstone, I will need legitimate heirs," he reminds her gently. There is nothing patronizing in his tone, it is only facts and kindness. "So yes, I would intend to bed you."

“Would I have other lovers?” She asks, looking around the room, “All of you?”

That makes Raeden smile, and he glances around the table before looking back at her. "If you wish it. No one here would turn you away."

“Truly?” She’s shocked by that. While many people boast of wanting lovers, very few actually take them. At least the women she knows.

"We would not expect it of you," you clarify quickly. "But if you wished to take other lovers, it would be entirely unjust of Raeden to forbid it while having three other lovers himself."

“You enjoy it?” She asks curiously. “Being with a woman? I have never had a chance to experience it.”

"My first lover was a woman." Confident and comfortable with the memory of Brynna's place in your life, you can assure Margaery in this completely. "It can be a wonderful and extremely pleasurable experience."

“And you wish me to join your little group?” She asks seriously. “As a lady wife to Lord Sunstone and potential lover to all of you? A preverbal fifth wheel?”

"We have all discussed it." Raeden artfully leaves out the fact that – in one case – the discussion only happened just before she arrived. Instead he focuses on the positive. And on the offer he is making. "If you would like to be a part of this group...this odd little family that we have...we are offering you the chance to be a part of it. If you desired nothing beyond my own bed and never shared pleasure with your dear friend, with Oberyn, or with Ellaria, that would be entirely up to you." He turns now, offering his hands to Margaery again and looking into her eyes. They really are stunning now that he has a chance to look deeper. "Rather than shatter your reputation and put your life on the line, would you consider an elopement? It will eliminate the problem of your father's arrangement with the Lannisters and take you far away from King's Landing." He smirks slightly, looking over at the food on the table before his smirk blooms into a full smile. "And you will have all the Dornish delicacies you like in Sunspear."

Her fingers slide against his palm as her laughter blooms. Joyous and relieved. “I accept.” She decides instantly. “If nothing more than a lifetime of food such as this.” She jokes before she squeezes his fingers. “If we elope and my marriage is actually consummated, the dowry the Lannisters are planning to line their coffers with is yours, Lord Sunstone.”

"And as Dornish subjects, you answer to the princes and princesses of that realm, rather than to Cersei Lannister." It is a deeply added benefit, and now will be the second time you have exploited that loophole to help get people you care about away from imminent harm. Looking to Oberyn, Raeden holds tight to Margaery's hands. "Do you think Maester Rhodestone would mind a late night visit?"

“If you wish to do this tonight, we will finish our dinner and make for the Citadel.” He tells Margaery. “The same maester who married myself and the princess would oversee your vows and make sure they are registered.”

Though her hand is in Raeden's, you place one of your own gently on her shoulder and squeeze. "The speed is out of concern for your safety, my dear. It is the same reason that Oberyn and I wed so quickly. Because Raeden was my sworn guard and his life was in danger."

“What happened?” She asks, tilting her head curiously and wanting to know what could possibly threaten this kind and handsome man.

"My mother threatened to spread a vicious lie that would most likely have ended in his execution." You shake your head sadly. "I did what I had to do to keep my soulmate safe. And found myself the luckiest woman in the world when I began to know more of the husband I had made vows to. I think – I hope – you will consider yourself equally as lucky as you get to know Raeden."

“I hope that this does not affect our relationship.” She murmurs quietly. “I have come to view you as one of my dearest friends. A true friend. That is so hard to come by.”

"A true friend can be more valuable than gold." You readily agree. "The only thing that would change would be if we decided to share a bed. And that would be a way to bring us closer."

She has been curious about that. Biting her lip and nodding. “It would be an experience.” She admits. “I am not pure and I would like to live my life to the fullest.”

You can feel a bloom of warmth in your cheeks and do not even turn your head to Ellaria, knowing what she will say. Her stunning smirk surely says I knew it like only she can. “I can assure you that no one here is pure in the sense that you mean.”

“I understand if you wish to wait until I bleed, but I can swear to the Gods I have not been with anyone since before I married Joffrey.” Margaery promises.

“Well, when was the last time you bled?” Ellaria pauses with a bite of roast meat and bread halfway to her mouth and quirks an eyebrow. She knows the answer - the maids know everything and Leyth has good ears – but she wants to see how genuine Margaery is being tonight.

“I bled the week after Joffrey’s funeral.” She admits, squirming slightly since she is unused to speaking of such things in front of men. It’s not that she is embarrassed, just unaccustomed to men around talks of women’s things.

“Then there seems little need to wait.” Raeden nods when Ellaria seems to accept the answer and resume her dinner casually, but he looks back to Margaery with concern. “Unless you want more time to think over the offer?”

“There is not much time to wait.” She answers honestly. “I had come to beg that the prince be discovered in my bed by morning,” she confesses. “They wish to announce my marriage to Tommen after Lord Tyrion has been executed.”

“Then the longest we will wait is after our supper.” Knowing that Rhodestone is now fond enough of your group to receive the lot of you even at an odd time, Raeden is certain they will be allowed into the Citadel no matter what time they arrive. Perhaps it will all one day make a charming or romantic story. Instead of being a true matter of life and death twice over.

Oberyn scoffs slightly, aware that the trial has been a farce, but it is made even more obvious by her comment. “You will be wedded and bedded before the sun rises.” He promises. “Our maid will discover your blood on Lord Sunstone’s sheets.” Even if he must provide his own blood, he will make sure proof is undeniable.

“We will stand beside you tomorrow, and every day afterward,” you promise her, knowing that your roles are about to reverse. With you the princess and her the lady, nothing would change, though. As Margaery pointed out herself, true friendships are difficult to come by.

It is rare, she knows this. Her own family crawled back to the Lannisters after Renly died, her body as a pawn. Now, Mace would be unable to use her to better himself again, and she believes her grandmother would approve. “So this is now our wedding feast.” She says, lifting her cup. “To House Sunstone, May it grow strong and prosperous in Dorne.”

“Here here.” You approve of that most heartily and raise your cup to salute her and Raeden with one hand. The sadness – the melancholy – the bracing discomfort you expected to feel when Raeden finally married is nowhere in sight. His future is secure in the hands of a woman that you not only know well but enjoy, and his legacy will grow from the vines of the House that they sew together. The injustice of being denied each other’s love does not exist. Margaery accepts it just as the rest of you all have. She will be safe and they will persevere together. In time, there will be so many less important things to fret over. And you will all have the luxury of fretting, because you have survived.

Dinner ends up being a lighthearted, jovial affair. Turning into more of a celebration than anything else and by the time that the food has been eaten, Margaery is almost eager to make Raeden her Lord husband. He is a good man, she can see that from the way that he treats you and Ellaria, and Oberyn. Two soulmates. She can’t even fathom that, but he had shown her marks from both you and Ellaria, proving it to be true. Oberyn has been kind, flirtatious as well and she wonders if her first night in these chambers will be with everyone. Experiencing the orgies that Oberyn is famous for.

******

“You should wear this.” The cloak that you hold out to drape over Margaery’s shoulders is one of your own. Nondescript but comfortable and attractive, the piece will not mark her as Margaery Tyrell, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms but as just another noble lady walking with her party. “Keep the hood up while we are in the carriage. The last thing we want is to be stopped or mobbed on the way to having you married.”

“Is this how you felt when you married Oberyn?” She asks quietly. “Afraid you might be discovered before the vows could be said?” Her stomach knots up in fear that could happen, her slight chance at freedom ruined.

"I was terrified," you agree, though your face is much more serene now. "At any moment my mother could have been sending the keep's guard after us. I literally begged Oberyn to marry me."

“It does not seem like he regrets that decision.” Margaery looks over at Oberyn as the group walks towards the carriage.

“Regret would be the last word I would use to describe my marriage to the Princess.” He reaches for your hand and lifts it to his lips.

"I love you, too." The words have come easy since the first nice that you managed to say them, and you press your own lips to the back of Oberyn's hand in turn before accepting his help up into the carriage. The five of you will be cramped inside but you will manage. It is more important that you not be identified on your way to the Citadel than that you be able to spread out.

“Once you are wed, we will return to our rooms.” Oberyn tells the group as the carriage starts to move once you are all loaded up. “While I do not know how luxurious your chambers are, it would be better if you stayed with us on your wedding night.”

"Once the wedding is complete, my lord's chambers are mine anyway," Margaery points out with a nod of agreement. "I have no doubt that my father would have overwhelming questions when I returned. This will be better. Safer."

“Yes.” He nods in agreement. “Tomorrow, Raeden and I will inform your father.”

"It will not be good news to him." Although the more she sits with the idea and rolls it over in her mind, Margaery might actually be looking forward to this third marriage.

“No matter his feelings, it will be a successful marriage.” Oberyn predicts with a smile. “It will last longer than the other two.”

"It would be very difficult not to last longer than the second." Even as she says it, Margaery chews her lip. Her weeks have been filled with a magnitude of worries, not the least of which is the concern that if something should happen to her third husband then she might seclude herself somewhere untouchable for fear of being the unwitting cause of their demise. A jinx.

“Yes, it would.” Oberyn chuckles and looks to you for a moment before he leans over and whispers to you.

A silent nod and a kiss for your husband are the end of the communication for now, and you tuck a smile in the corner of your mouth as the carriage pulls through King's Landing. As troubling as your time in this city has been at points, it has also been rewarding and joyous on many occasions. Tonight, you hope will be one more moment of celebration.

******

Margaery takes a deep breath then the carriage finally rolls to a stop and Raeden looks over, reaching out with a smile as he takes her hand. “Perhaps you can guide me through this.” He whispers softly. “I have never been a husband, so you should instruct me on what to do.” He means it as a comfort, knowing she must be worried about another marriage.

"Try not to die." Margaery advises wryly, letting her fingers curl around his after a moment's hesitation. The carriage door swings open to let them all out and once more the group is on the move.

He chuckles as he hops out of the carriage first, turning to assist the ladies out. “Do not fear, I wish to die a very old man with my numerous children surrounding me.”

“From several mothers, if you are lucky.” Ellaria hums as she gets out of the carriage behind them.

Raeden turns to look at Margaery. “You would not object, would you? A child with my soulmates?”

“Before tonight I would have said that I objected to it most strongly,” she admits, looking around the group before her eyes meet Raeden’s again. “But to see love is something genuine, and I cannot find it in myself to object to a child that will be loved.”

“Believe me,” Oberyn chuckles. “All our children will be loved in our family. Which is what we are. One odd family.”

“A large, odd, loving family,” you agree before ringing the bell at the Citadel’s door. “Come. Let us have you two married.”

This time when the door is opened, a different face peers out at the group. A confused frown on the chubby cheeks of the younger man. “Yes?”

“Would you kindly inform Maester Rhodestone that the Prince and Princess of Dorne and their party are in need of his assistance?” Haste does not mean you have to be impolite, but it is essential to get your group inside so Margaery is not recognized. You have lent her a cloak, not a potion of invisibility.

“I will be back.” He informs you, stepping back to allow you into the Citadel. “Wait here.”

"Thank you." The five of you file into the foyer and almost sigh with relief as the door shuts behind you.

“We should have brought the book back.” Oberyn snaps his fingers, a smirk on his lips as he winks at you.

"If only we had not been in such a hurry." The twist of your mouth matches his smirk and you lean into his side.

"How careless of us." Ellaria agrees with a chuckle.

Raeden chuckles, leaning in to whisper in Margaery’s ear when she frowns in confusion. “The Princess borrowed a book from the maesters on soulmates when the second set of marks appeared on her skin.”

"When was it?" She still cannot quite believe the reality of having two soulmates, but the proof is irrefutable. She has seen the marks.

“Just a few weeks ago.” He tells her. “Ellaria and I did not know what to do when our own marks showed up. Afraid of what the Princess would think. But our fears were unfounded.”

"Your soulmate is very kind." Margaery's eyes glance over to you, and then past you to Ellaria, and she smiles. "They both are. You are very lucky."

“We are all lucky.” Raeden tells you quietly. “If you are blessed by the Seven to have another soulmate, they will be welcomed.” He tells his future wife. “I would not keep such an important person from you.”

“Let us hope that, if they do appear, they are as kind and as stalwart as the companions we have now.” Margaery has no illusions about her own worthiness as a political pawn - in that she is very powerful as one – but soulmates come from personal worth and that is an entirely different matter. One that she is not willing to let herself drown in now for fear of the melancholy it will bring.

“We do not know why some of us have marks and others do not.” Oberyn tells her. “But I personally believe that just because you do not share marks does not mean you cannot share your heart with someone.”

“The gods chose who could share my soul,” Margaery nods, finding that for all his reputation, Prince Oberyn is full of wisdom and not only instinct. “But I choose to whom I give my heart.”

“Precisely.” He hums, sending her a tiny wink as the rattling of chains signifies that a maester is returning.

“My favourite visitors,” Rhodestone chuckles at the sight of your group. “To what do I owe the pleasure so late on this night?”

“I have come once again to beg a favor.” Oberyn takes charge and steps forward. “Another marriage than needs to be made in haste.”

“I see.” Rhodestone surveys the group, standing before the five of you with interest and a characteristically expressive countenance. “The match is made freely? All parties are consenting?”

“We are, Maester.” Raeden steps forward and captures Margaery’s hand in his. “We desperately wish to be married and must make it so before the opportunity is lost.”

“Forgive me if I do not bow, your Grace. This old back does not cooperate as it once did.” Maester Rhodestone surveys the couple – their tightly joined hands and anxious postures, their forced smiles and their rounded shoulders. “I take it there is no time to waste?” He asks, sensing that – like last time – there is more to this haste than meets the eye.

“None.” Margaery insists. “Please know that I am willingly consenting to marrying this man and must do so immediately.”

“Then I see we have no time to waste.” He is not a man for politics or intrigue, though he understands both, and decides it is not in his best interest to ask questions. Instead, he waves for all of you to follow and chuckles under his breath. “This way, this way…although I suspect you remember from the last marriage.”

Margaery reaches out for your hand instinctively, even though she has gone through her vows twice now, this time is even more daunting. This time she is going against the political wishes of her father and making her own choice, forging her own destiny and she has only your obvious happiness to guide her.

“Breathe,” you remind her quietly. “All will be well.” And, with a much softer tone in your already hushed voice. “You have chosen a good man, Margaery. I promise you. He will protect and cherish you.”

“It is not my future I am worried for.” She admits quietly, her heart racing as she envisions letting all of you down, or worse, hurting you.

“We are a family now.” Holding tight to her hand, you offer her the most reassuring smile you are able, and continue walking together. “We look after each other. All of us.”

“Due to your marriage to my wife’s soulmate,” Oberyn adds quietly. “You will have very strong ties to House Martell.” He knows she is not worried about that, but it can be a comfort. “All of Dorne will be eager to come to House Sunstone’s aid if needed.”

“And my father’s House may be far away, but they will send aid if we should ever require it. We have friends who will help us.” Though you all hope that day will never come, it is necessary to be prepared for. Especially when there is so much at stake.

“Then all we can hope is that our union creates a happy home.” Raeden murmurs quietly. “I wish to fill the halls of whatever home with have with laughter, children and one day – love.”

Margaery seems positively flustered at such an optimistic picture of life ahead, and is blushing profusely between you and Raeden when you offer him a smile. “I have something for you both. And I hope that you will accept it with all the good intent it is given.” On one of your fingers, there is an intricate sunstone and bronze ring that Raeden himself had picked out at the market a week ago. He had settled on the new name for his House and presented it to you as a way to tell the group. Slipping it from your finger now, you take Raeden’s hand and place it in his palm. “Ellaria presented me with a ring that Oberyn had given her just before we were going to be married,” you explain to Margaery softly. “Now a ring from Raeden will leave my finger to grace yours. I pray it brings you happiness.”

Her gasp is soft, expression almost startled as she stares at the ring and then you. “Are you sure?” She asks quietly. It is a beautiful ring and yet she doesn’t know if she should accept.

“Very sure.” Even as you close his fingers around the trinket, Raeden looks as if he might be moved to tears, and you squeeze his hand tight. “One day perhaps you will pass on a ring to another bride, and we will make it a tradition.”

“It would make a lovely tradition. The first jewels in the Sunstone house.” She leans over and kisses your cheek. “I will cherish it, like I cherish your friendship.”

“Come.” Smile beaming at both of them, you motion to where the Maester, Oberyn, and Ellaria have gotten ahead of you. “Let us see you married and then we will all remember how to breathe a little easier.”

Now, when the moment has arrived, there is no fear. A sense of calm washes over the woman who was queen in name twice and never in reality. Now she will be Lady Sunstone and that is a brighter future than she might have every had as Margaery Tyrell.

______

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My Masterlist!

[prisoner-000]

Every single MILGRAM NPC and what we know about them canonically

I referenced both TL conversations and the interrogations for this. MVs are mostly ignored due to their overall vagueness and heavily relying on interpretation, but I do mention some MV-only characters on this list (ex. Haruka's victim).

(thank you @/adipostsstuff for your contributions to the Kotoko and Fuuta sections!!)

Full list under the cut!

Haruka:

Haruka's mother: The most important person in his life; the person he'd like to see most again in his current situation. His mother would have preferred a girl instead of a son. His childhood was improved due to her being 'nice'.

Haruka's father: Is still present in his family structure. Haruka feels like he 'disappointed him', but Haruka loves him.

Haruka's victim/Pigtails Girl: Haruka was jealous of her.

Yuno:

Yuno's father: Left her family very early into Yuno's life. She doesn't consider even having a father.

Yuno's mother and grandparents: Part of her regular family structure. Considers them family herself, loves them. Would like to see them again in her current situation, would spend money on eating with them.

Yuno's client(s): Brief appearance in Tear Drop. Are her clients, pay a large sum for these dates. Presumably also pay to sleep with her.

Yura: Yuno's little brother. Also part of her family structure.

Haruta: A boy she met in kindergarten and had a crush on.

Fuuta:

Fuuta's mother: Divorced his father, left the family. Fuuta doesn't remember much about her. Wishes to meet her one day.

Fuuta's father: Fuuta thinks of him as a pitiful, fragile old man. His main caretaker. Is a civil worker.

Fuuta's older sister: Part of Fuuta's current family. Is a beautician.

Fuuta's friends: Get passionate about the same things as him, have similar interests (such as gaming, soccer, & browsing the web). Met over the internet.

Fuuta's victim (Kilcheroy): Someone whose username ("Miss Magic" in Japanese) he saw often, a victim of Fuuta's witch hunt friend group. Seems to be a girl wearing a middle school uniform; younger than Fuuta. She was targeted for posing with a hat she did not pay for, leading Futa to assume she stole it, when in reality she asked the shop owner for permission before doing so.

Muu:

Muu's mother: Muu thinks of her as cool and pretty. Glad to have her as her mother. Is french; originates from Nice, FR. Is an ex-model. Muu sees her as a role model. Her and her husband are first on Muu's to-see-again list.

Muu's father: Muu thinks of him as kind. Glad to have him as her father. A landlord by profession, though also works 'importing furniture from other countries' (a higher-up at a furniture company)? Him and his wife are first on Muu's to-see-again list.

Sayu & Co.: Ex-Friends of Muu's. Would receive gifts from Muu and text with her, though later turned on her and started bullying her. (Possibly, Muu would like to see them again, though she doesn't specify who these friends she'd like to see again are.) Believes she should've chosen her friends more carefully.

Rei: Muu's victim. Their relationship is unclear, but Rei does not ever appear pleased being in Muu's presence. Muu stabbed her.

Shidou:

Shidou's wife: Describes her as part of 'a family as happy as you could dream of'. Met her in his neighbourhood, was a family friend. They met during their 2nd year of middle school and have not seperated since. Was "a strong person" Shidou relied on. His 4th partner in total. Is dead.

Shidou's children: There are two of them, both sons. Part of Shidou's happy family. Shidou loved them. Presumably dead.

Shidou's victims: Confirmed there are multiple victims.

Mahiru:

Mahiru's boyfriend: Her first ever relationship. She'd revive him if she could. They met in their university, he said it was fate. His hobby is running. He works at a 7/11 & his favorite movie is 'Your Name'.

Hair salon girl: A confidant of Mahiru's. She can talk about anything with her. Is older than Mahiru.

Mahiru's parents: Were 'a bit strict'. Mahiru describes herself as sheltered because of this. Mahiru is their only child.

Kazui:

Hinako Mukuhara: His former wife & victim. They worked together in the police force. She loved him, but he did not share her feelings. He was hoping their marriage could 'change' him.

Kazui's childhood friend: A friend of Kazui's who he looks up to. Has a boat they've gone trawling on together before. Supposes they must be feeling guilty about what happened, even if he claims this is all his fault.

Kazui's parents: Kazui assumes they must find him embarrassing. Does not consider them part of his current family structure. Kazui was either their only child or their eldest. His father wanted him to be a 'strong man', he was a policeman.

Kazui's elementary school teacher: A teacher he may have had a crush on (he says this uncertainly).

Kazui's family dog: A dog he had at his parents' place. Wow

Amane:

Yuuichi Momose: Amane's father, a 'reverend/lecturer'/high-standing figure in the cult. Has preached against medicine before. Is currently away on a trip, which Amane describes as a great honor for him. Part of her current family structure. Would like to see him again and wants him (or even expects him) to praise her. Amane believes he loved her.

Amane's mother: Part of her current family structure. Amane believes she [her mother] loved her. She lost her faith in the cult at some point.

Amane's victim (might be one of her parents): Amane does not regret killing them, sees it as having been her natural duty. She loved them.

The cat: A cat that appears alongside broken furniture in Purge March. She patched it up, to which it disappeared.

Mikoto:

Mikoto's mother: Is divorced from his father, raised him and his sister. He gets along well with her. Presumably, Mikoto has moved away from home and sometimes calls his mother when he doesn't have to work.

Mikoto's sister: Younger than him, currently going to high school. Mikoto thinks of her as brilliant.

Mikoto's boss: Appears in Double. Seems to have put a lot of pressure on him.

Mikoto's victims: There were multiple victims. Killed near a train station.

Orekoto/John: Mikoto's alter. Aims to protect Mikoto. Has stated he 'emerged due to Mikoto's stress' and will 'disappear if they are voted innocent'. Mikoto does not seem to remember John's times fronting.

Kotoko:

Kotoko's family: Her current family structure consists of her grandmother, her father, her mother, and her older brother. Has not elaborated on her family.

Mikio Oshii: scammed elderly people for money, once pushed an old woman to escape. Is the first person to be seen get beaten up by Kotoko.

Kotoko's victim: A serial killer who targeted young girls and would leave their bodies outside their homes. His father was in a position of power (can't remember which one), making it difficult for his case to be dealt with. Is probably on his 30s.

[kmomof4]

To Sir Graham, With Love Ch. 7

And we are back!!! It is time for Ruby's family to meet Graham's children... and to get a wedding scheduled!! Thank you all for coming along on this journey with me! I hope you enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think!

We don't actually see the wedding, but we do have the wedding night in this chapter, so the smut is again bracketed off by a double scene change line like in the last chapter. But that said, there are some very important happenings between Graham and Ruby in the middle of the scene, that I don't think you should miss. So if you are skipping the actual smut, stop reading at the first double scene change line...

~*~*~

~*~*~

then resume reading when they are repeated (this is the important scene I don't want you to miss), then stop again when they are repeated again. I hope that all makes sense. If it doesn't, please feel free to message me.

Once again, all the love and long distance internet hugs to @jrob64 @whimsicallyenchantedrose and @motherkatereloyshipper for their betaing expertise and gorgeous artwork, respectively!!

And also, happy birthday to @snowbellewells for whom this fic was written!!

Summary:

After a year long secret correspondence, twenty-eight year old spinster Ruby Jones decides to accept Sir Graham Humbert's offer of a visit to see if they might suit for marriage. Unfortunately, he failed to mention that he was the father of twins, and they are not thrilled with Ruby's appearance.

Rating: M (smut and mentions of physical abuse, both in this chapter)

Words: 7500 of 68k

Tags: Red Hunter Fic, Birthday Fic, Inspired by Eloise Bridgerton's Story, Smut

On ao3 From Beginning / Current Chapter

On Tumblr Prologue Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615

@donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells  @djlbg

@lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @anmylica

@laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling @caught-in-the-filter

@ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie

@soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @thisonesatellite

@jonesfandomfanatic @elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones @mie779

@kymbersmith-90 @suwya @veryverynotgoodwrites @myfearless-love 

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

I grant that Mr. Wilson’s face does have a certain amphibious quality, but I do wish you would learn to be a bit more circumspect in your speech. While I would never consider him an acceptable candidate for marriage, he is certainly not a toad, and it ill-behooved me to have my younger sister call him thus, and in his presence.

– from Ruby Jones to her sister Tilly, after refusing her fourth offer of marriage

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next day, Ruby, Liam, Killian, and Emma traveled to Romney Hall for lunch. David and Henry had returned to London, deciding their elder brothers had the situation well in hand and no longer needed their presence. Ruby was glad of their departure, if she was honest. She loved all of her brothers dearly, but to be subjected to the four of them all at once was quite more than anyone should be expected to endure.

She was feeling quite happy and optimistic as she stepped down from the carriage. Yesterday had gone far better than she expected. Even if Graham hadn’t taken her into Emma’s office to prove to her that THEY’D SUIT (she’d never be able to think those words again without seeing them in all capital letters in her mind's eye), he’d gone on to prove himself against all four of her brothers in the shooting match. She was reluctant to admit, even to herself, that she’d never be able to marry a man who wasn’t equal to the four Jones men, and Graham had acquitted himself admirably, leaving Ruby very proud of him.

She still had reservations about the marriage itself - the fact that they didn’t love one another would tend to do that - but they at least did share respect, affection, and passion. That last thought brought a blush to Ruby’s cheeks. It may not be a firm foundation for a marriage, but she thought, a wicked smile curving her lips, it certainly didn’t hurt.

He would make a fine husband, she was absolutely sure. And she could only hope that time would bring her the love match she so longed for.

~*~*~

Graham glanced at the clock on the mantle for about the fifteenth time in as many minutes. The Joneses were due at half noon, and it was now thirty-five past the hour. Not that five minutes was terribly tardy, but it was so hard to keep Nicholas and Ava neat and presentable as they waited with him in the drawing room for their guests.

“I hate this jacket,” Nicholas complained, tugging on the too short sleeve.

“It’s too small,” Ava commented, matter-of-factly.

“Of course, it’s too small,” Nicholas shot right back. “That’s why I was complaining. Your dress is too small too,” he observed. “I can see your ankles.”

Ava turned alarmed eyes to her father. “You’re supposed to be able to see my ankles,” she gasped.

“Not so much of them,” Nicholas huffed.

“You’re eight,” Graham said in what he hoped was a soothing voice. “Your dress is perfectly suitable.” At least, he hoped it was. He knew blessed little about such things. But Ruby would know. She would know and she would handle all the things involved in the raising of children. She would know when girls should start wearing their hair up and whether boys should attend Harrow or Eton. Thank God.

“I think they’re late,” Nicholas announced.

“They’re not late,” Graham replied without thinking.

“Yes, they are,” his son insisted. “I can read the clock, you know.”

He didn’t know, and Graham sighed at that knowledge. It was rather like the swimming thing.

Ruby, he reminded himself. No matter his failings as a father, he was convinced that he was now doing the exact right thing for his children, marrying Ruby. The sense of relief at that knowledge could not be overstated.

Ruby. 

She couldn’t get here soon enough. He sighed. Who was he kidding? He couldn’t marry her soon enough. How did one go about getting a special license anyway? Surely Liam would know. Weren’t weddings supposed to take place on Saturdays? That was only two days away, but if they could get that special license… 

Graham blessed his quick reflexes when Nicholas made a dart for the door and Graham grabbed him by the collar before he could go two steps.

“No,” he admonished his son. “You will wait here for Miss Jones and our other guests. You will do it without incident and with a smile on your face. Do I make myself clear?”

The twins were silent as he stared them down, but Nicholas at least made an attempt to smile, though the results were somewhat lacking.

“That’s not a smile,” Ava informed him.

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it isn’t. Your lips didn’t even curve up at all,” she said, demonstrating by using her fingers to push up the corners of her own lips.

Graham sighed. Saturday couldn’t come soon enough. He’d speak to Liam this afternoon about the special license. He could turn the twins over to Ruby during the day, and she could turn herself over to him at night, he thought, a true smile touching his lips.

“Why are you smiling?” Ava asked.

“I’m not smiling,” he protested automatically. The words were barely out of his mouth when he could feel himself - dear God - he was blushing.

“Yes, you are,” she argued. “And now your cheeks are pink. Aren’t Father’s cheeks pink, Nicholas?”

“Your cheeks are pink, Father,” Nicholas agreed.

Graham blew out a short breath and glanced at the clock again. At that moment, Ava swung her legs from where she sat on the sofa and knocked over an ottoman. 

“Oops,” she said, jumping down to right it. “Nicholas!” she howled from her place on the floor where she’d fallen when her brother had pushed her. “He pushed me!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Did…”

“Well someone pushed her,” Graham interrupted, glaring at Nicholas, “and I’m certain it was not me.”

Nicholas pressed his lips into a thin line as he cut his eyes to his father and then his sister. He obviously hadn’t considered that being one of only three people in the room, his culpability would be rather obvious.

“Very well,” he admitted. “I pushed her. I’m sorry.”

Graham was stunned speechless. It was the first time he’d ever heard an unsolicited apology from one of his children for any kind of infraction.

“You can push me back,” Nicholas offered.

Oh no. No, no. Very bad, Graham thought. Very bad, indeed.

“Ok!” Ava agreed brightly. Graham couldn’t get to them in time. It was only a moment later that Nicholas was toppled over the back of an ottoman and Ava was squealing with delight while Nicholas howled in indignation.

Visions of the drawing room completely destroyed raced through Graham’s mind as he grabbed Nicholas by the collar and hauled him to his feet.

“She pushed me!”

“Because you told her she could, you miserable little wretch!” Graham shouted. Nicholas darted away from him after his sister, and Graham caught him just as he caught Ava, bringing them all to the floor with a crash of the mantle clock and two cushions off the sofa as well. How they’d managed to bring down the clock, he’d never know.

“Nicholas did it,” Ava accused.

“I don’t care who did it,” Graham said, standing up and dusting himself off. “You know that Miss Jones is due any moment…”

“Ahem.”

Graham shut his eyes and sighed before turning slowly around - dismayed, but not surprised - to find Ruby, Liam, Killian, and Emma standing in the doorway.

“My lord,” he grit out. He was too curt, not the gracious host he meant to be in the least, but he couldn’t help himself. He was too frustrated with his children to be otherwise.

“Are we interrupting?” Liam asked mildly.

“No, not at all,” Graham rushed to reassure them. “As you can see, we’re simply, ahhh… rearranging the furniture.”

“And doing an excellent job of it,” Emma said, brightly with a gentle smile for the twins. She seemed the sort to always be trying to make everyone around her at ease and right now, Graham could have kissed her for it.

He rose, righting the overturned ottoman as he did, and motioned his children to stand to their feet. Nicholas’ cravat was completely undone, and Ava’s hair clip hung loosely by her ear.

Once they were both facing their guests, Graham spoke with as much dignity as he could muster. “My lord, may I present my children, Nicholas and Ava Humbert.”

The children murmured their greetings, looking as uncomfortable as Graham felt. Perhaps they were ashamed of their abominable behavior, as unlikely as that seemed, but Graham couldn’t help but hope.

Once they’d fallen silent, Graham patted them on the shoulders. “Very good, children,” he praised. “You may run along now.”

They turned to him with matching forlorn expressions. “Can’t we stay?” Ava asked in a small voice.

“No,” Graham said immediately, and forcefully. He’d invited the Joneses for lunch and a tour of the greenhouse, and if the day was to be a success, the children couldn’t be anywhere near.

“Please?” Nicholas pleaded.

Graham was very conscious of his guests witnessing his woeful lack of control over his own children, so he was careful to avoid their gazes. “Nurse Ratched is waiting for you in the hall.”

“But we don’t like Nurse Ratched,” Nicholas said, Ava nodding in agreement next to him.

“What are you talking about?” Graham asked impatiently. “Of course you do. She’s been your nurse for months.”

“But we don’t like her,” Nicholas insisted. 

Graham sighed, and looked over at the Joneses. “Please excuse the interruption,” he said.

“It’s no bother, truly,” Emma said with a gentle, maternal smile.

Graham guided the children to the far corner of the room, crossed his arms, and stared down sternly at them. 

“I have asked Miss Jones to be my wife,” he said. Their eyes lit up. “Good,” he continued before either of them could get a word in edgewise. “I see you agree with my action.”

“Will she…”

“Don’t interrupt me,” he said sternly. “Now listen. I have asked Miss Jones to be my wife, but I still have to win the approval of her family, and I can’t do that with you two underfoot.” It didn’t really signify that Liam had all but ordered the wedding and approval was no longer an issue. Entertaining his guests with the children around was a futile endeavor.

Ava’s chin trembled, tears shining in the corner of her eyes. “Are you ashamed of us?”

Graham raised his eyes to heaven wondering just how it had come to this.

“May I be of assistance?” The voice of his savior reached him and Graham turned toward where she stood right behind him, grateful acceptance in his eyes. He watched as she kneeled down and spoke gently to them. Her voice was too low to discern her words, but the tone was unmistakable.

Nicholas said something in protest, but Ruby cut him off, still gently, but firmly. It was only a moment later when, to his great surprise, the children said their goodbyes and left the room. They didn’t look happy about it, but at least they did it.

“Thank God I’m marrying you,” Graham said under his breath as Ruby rose to her feet.

“Indeed,” she whispered, a secret smile on her face as she rejoined her family. 

“I do apologize for the children’s behavior,” Graham said when he reached them right behind Ruby. “They’ve been hard to manage since their mother died.”

“There is nothing more difficult than losing a parent,” Liam said solemnly, “Please, do not feel any need to apologize on their behalf.”

Graham nodded his thanks for the understanding of the older man. “Come, let’s enjoy lunch.”

As he led them into the dining room, Nicholas and Ava’s faces loomed large in his mind. He’d seen his children stubborn, in full fledged tantrums, and insufferable, but he’d never seen them sad since their mother died. It was most troubling.

After lunch and a tour through the greenhouse, the group split in two. Killian had brought with him a sketch book, so he and Emma stayed near the house while he drew the exterior of Romney Hall. Liam, Graham and Ruby took a walk along the grounds, Liam very graciously allowing them to tarry several yards behind so they might speak in relative privacy.

“What did you say to the children?” he asked immediately.

“I don’t know actually,” she replied. “I just tried to act like my mother.” She shrugged. “It seemed to work.”

He was silent for a moment, thinking about her words. “It must be nice to have parents one can emulate.”

“You didn’t?” she asked gently.

“No.”

She waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. 

“Was it your father or your mother?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Which of your parents was so difficult?” she pressed.

He stared at her for a long moment, before his brows furrowed and he answered her. “My mother died at my birth.”

“I see,” she said quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you,” he murmured. They continued along, walking slowly, wanting to make sure they remained far out of Liam’s earshot. When they turned back toward the house, Ruby stopped and asked the question that had been plaguing her mind all day.

“Why did you take me into Emma’s study yesterday?”

Graham sputtered and stammered, his cheeks turning pink at her blunt question. “I should think the answer was rather obvious.”

Ruby glared at him. “Obviously it isn’t, or I wouldn’t have asked.”

Graham stared at her for a full ten seconds before he cut his eyes to where Liam stood investigating a birch tree and then moved closer to Ruby.

“Very well, if you must know,” he began, his voice low, “I intended to kiss you to show you how well suited we are.” He shrugged. “I did not intend to get so carried away, but I’m not sorry it happened.”

“But passion is not enough to sustain a marriage,” she replied, forcefully.

He shrugged again. “It’s certainly a good start. May we please talk about something else?”

“No. What I’m trying to say…”

This time he rolled his eyes and snorted. “You’re always trying to say something.”

“It’s part of my irresistible charm,” she said peevishly.

He looked down at her, holding on tightly to his patience and temper. “Ruby, we are well suited and will enjoy a perfectly pleasant and amiable marriage. I don’t know what else I can say or do to prove it!”

“But you don’t love me,” she said quietly.

That brought him to a screeching halt. He stared at her for a long moment before speaking. “Why do you say things like that?”

She shrugged and couldn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t know. Because it’s important, I guess.”

“Did it ever occur to you that not every thought has to be given voice?” he asked after another long moment.

“Yes,” she said, a lifetime of regret - of always saying the wrong thing at the wrong time - wrapped up in that one tiny little word. “All the time. I can’t seem to help myself though.”

He stared at her, his confusion obvious. She understood completely. Her mother had always told her she’d catch more flies with honey than a sledgehammer, but Ruby had never mastered the skill of keeping her thoughts to herself.

She had all but asked Graham if he loved her, and his subsequent silence was more of an answer than no would have been. Her heart wept. She didn’t really expect him to fall in love with her so quickly, but her disappointment was proof that a tiny corner of her heart and mind had wished for exactly that.

“Did you love Jacinda?” She winced as soon as the words left her lips. There she went again, speaking before thinking about the wisdom of her words.

Graham stood before her, silent. “No,” he finally said in a low voice.

None of the expected feelings at the single word rose up within her. Not joy, that her intended hadn’t loved her predecessor, nor sadness that her cousin’s husband hadn’t loved her. She simply felt relief, which was a surprise. She wanted to know. That was all. She hated not knowing. About anything. She released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“Why did you marry her?”

His face was rather blank as he looked at her. Finally he shrugged. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “It was expected, I guess. She was to marry George.”

Ruby’s head turned so sharply, she was surprised her neck didn’t crack. “I - I didn’t know.”

Graham shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. It was a long time ago.”

Ruby nodded in understanding. It wasn’t terribly surprising. He was the type of man who’d do that - always doing what was right and honorable, apologizing for his perceived transgressions, shouldering others’ burdens… honoring his brother’s promises.

Which brought her to her final question. “Did you…” she trailed away, almost losing her nerve. “Did you feel passion for her?” Her voice wasn’t much more than a whisper, and she found herself hoping he hadn’t heard her.

“No,” he said abruptly before turning away and walking quickly toward the house. She rushed to catch up with him and ran into his solid chest when he suddenly stopped and turned back toward her. “I have a question for you.”

“Of course,” she agreed quickly. It was only fair, after all. She’d all but interrogated the poor man.

“Why did you leave London?” 

Ruby blinked in surprise. She expected a much harder question than that. “To meet you, of course!”

“Balderdash.”

She blinked again, her mouth falling open at his obvious disbelief of her answer.

“That’s why you came,” he said, “not why you left.”

It had never occurred to her until this very moment that there was a difference between the two, but he was right. He’d had very little to do with why she’d left London. He’d simply made it easier for her to do so. He gave her a place to run to, which was much easier to justify rather than where she was running from.

“Did you have a lover?”

Ruby’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened in shock. “No!” she exclaimed, so loudly that it caught Liam’s attention, who started quickly toward them. Ruby waved him away. “Everything’s fine. I promise.”

“It’s not an unreasonable question to ask,” Graham said mildly, once Liam was back out of earshot. “You leave London in the middle of the night, like a wanted fugitive. I simply wondered if perhaps something had happened to ah… tarnish your reputation.”

He was right, of course. Not about her reputation, which was still as pure and white as snow.  It did look odd. Frankly, she was surprised he hadn’t asked her sooner.

“If you did have a lover,” he continued quietly, “it wouldn’t change my intentions.”

“No,” she assured him. “It wasn’t that.” She sighed and after another moment to fortify herself, told him everything. 

She told him all about the marriage proposals she’d received, and the ones Mary Margaret hadn’t, and the plans they’d jokingly made about growing old and spinsterish together. And she told him about how guilty she felt when Mary Margaret and David got married and she couldn’t get her mind off of herself and how alone she was.

She told him all that and more. She told him things in her heart, in her mind, in her soul. She told him things she’d never told another living soul, not even Mary Margaret. And for someone who couldn’t keep her mouth shut if her life depended on it, there was an awful lot inside her that she’d never shared with anyone.

And finally, when she was done - and in truth, she’d simply run out of energy and trailed away into silence - he’d taken her hand and smiled gently at her.

“It’s all right,” he said. And it was.

~*~*~

Four days later they were married. Graham had no idea how Liam managed it, but he’d obtained the special license that allowed them to be married without banns and on Monday, one week to the day since they’d met in person.

Ruby’s entire family - save her widowed sister Tink, who lived far away in Scotland and hadn’t had time to make it down for the festivities - had made the trip out to the country for the wedding. Normally, the ceremony would have taken place at the Jones country seat in Kent, or at St. George’s in London where the family regularly worshiped. But it all happened so quickly, those arrangements were impossible to make.  Killian and Emma offered My Cottage as the reception place, but Ruby felt the twins would be more comfortable at Romney Hall, so they’d held the wedding at the parish chapel down the lane with the small, intimate reception on the lawn around Graham’s greenhouse.

As the sun was beginning to set, Ruby found herself in her new bedchamber with her mother who was busily tucking away the items from Ruby’s hastily gathered trousseau. She smiled, completely understanding Alice’s need to move while she talked.

“I should complain that I’m being denied my moment of glory as mother of the bride,” she said, folding Ruby’s veil and placing it in the top drawer of her bureau. “But, in truth, I’m simply happy to see you as a bride.” She turned toward Ruby, tears shining in the corner of her eyes.

Ruby released a watery chuckle of her own. “You’d rather despaired of seeing it, didn’t you?”

“Quite,” Alice agreed, then tilted her head knowingly. “But I had a feeling you might surprise us all in the end. You frequently do.” 

“I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you,” Ruby whispered.

“Never,” Alice replied, her visage exceedingly wise. “My children never disappoint me. They simply astonish me.” A knowing smile touched her lips. “I think I prefer it that way.”

Ruby threw herself into her mother’s arms. She felt awkward doing so, though not from the display of familial affection itself. Perhaps it was that she was perilously close to tears herself. But suddenly she felt as she had when she was quite young - all long limbs with gangly arms and legs and bony elbows and a mouth that was always open when it should remain closed. 

And she wanted her mother.

Alice held her close, rubbing her back and making soothing sounds, as if she knew exactly the maelstrom of feelings surging in her daughter. And she probably did. Intelligence and wisdom were most definitely not the same thing, and they both very infrequently found a home within the same person. But in the case of Alice Jones, they did. And Ruby was ever so grateful. 

Alice finally released her and Ruby took a step back to see her mother looking rather wistful. She ran her fingers down the side of Ruby’s face, the action so tender, it made Ruby want to weep.

“Are you certain you’ll be happy?” Alice asked, softly.

“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?” Ruby replied, a rueful smile touching her lips.

“It may be too late to do anything about it, but not to wonder.”

“I think I’ll be happy,” Ruby said. I hope I’ll be happy, she said in her mind.

“He seems to be a nice man,” Alice said.

“He is,” Ruby agreed.

“Honorable.”

A soft smile graced Ruby’s lips. “He is that.”

Alice nodded, her own smile soft as she gazed at her daughter. “I believe you’ll be happy. It may take time.” She paused for a moment, but her smile didn’t waver. “It will take time, and you may doubt that it will come. But it will. Just remember…” she trailed away, her teeth nibbling on her lip.

“What, Mother?”

Alice didn’t answer right away, appearing to choose her words with great care. “It will take time, that’s all.” She turned toward the door and Ruby cut her eyes to the side as her mother wiped at the tear that rolled down her cheek. “You’re very impatient,” Alice continued. “You always have been. But there’s a great deal more to you and it seems that you sometimes forget that. I’m glad you never accepted a proposal from any of the men in London. You wouldn’t have been happy with any of them. Content? Maybe. But not happy. Second best was never good enough for you, Ruby, and I’m glad.” Her smile was gentle and warm. The smile of a mother saying goodbye to her daughter. “Give it time. Be gentle. Don’t push.”

Ruby wanted to say something, anything, but found she couldn’t utter a single word.

“Don’t push,” she repeated. “Be patient.”

“I…” She wanted to say I will but her words simply slipped away as she gazed at her mother, realizing something for the very first time. She was leaving. She was leaving her family. They’d still be a part of her, of course, in all the ways that mattered, but she was leaving the family of her birth and forming a new one of her own. 

And as she looked at her mother, she realized just how much she loved her. Alice always seemed to know exactly what each of her children needed, which was truly remarkable with eight of them, after all. When Ruby had finally read the letter her mother had given to Liam to give to her, she hadn’t scolded or thrown accusations, either of which she was entirely entitled to do. She’d simply reminded Ruby that she would always be her daughter and that she loved her. Ruby had bawled her eyes out.

Alice Jones had never wanted for anything, but her true wealth lay in her wisdom and her love, and as Ruby watched her mother turn to the door, she realized Alice was everything she aspired to be.

And she couldn’t believe it had taken her all this time to realize it.

“I expect you and Sir Graham would like some privacy,” she observed, turning to her daughter again as a small chuckle escaped her lips. “If I don’t escort the family out, they’ll never leave.”

“I shall miss you all,” Ruby said.

“Of course you shall,” Alice replied. “And we shall miss you. But you won’t be far. You’ll be nearby for Emma when her time comes, and I’ll be making more frequent trips out here now that I have two new grandchildren to spoil,” Alice said, a satisfied smile spreading across her face.

Ruby wiped away her own tear. Alice and the rest of the family had fully accepted Ava and Nicholas into their fold without reservation. Not that she expected anything different, but it had warmed her heart in a way she had not expected. Already the twins were playing wholeheartedly with their Jones cousins and Alice had insisted they call her grandmama. They had quickly and enthusiastically agreed, especially after Alice had pulled out a whole bag of peppermint drops that she claimed must have fallen into her valaise back in London.

Ruby had already said goodbye to the rest of her family, so when her mother left, she felt she was really and truly Lady Humbert. Miss Jones would have returned to London with her family, but Lady Humbert remained here at Romney Hall, mistress of her own home and family. It suddenly occurred to her that no one in her family had had to undertake the role of parent so quickly. But she was up to the task. She had to be. She was a Jones, even if it wasn’t her surname any longer, and she could handle anything thrown at her. She was not one to sit idle and let her life pass her by or dictate her happiness. So she would have to make certain that her life was happy beyond reason.

A knock sounded at the door and a moment later Graham entered. Even from across the room, the heat in his gaze made her shiver.

“Don’t you want a maid for that?” he asked, motioning to where she was running her brush through her long locks.

“I told her to take a free evening,” she said, blushing. “It seemed the least I could do. It almost seemed like an intrusion, don’t you think?”

He cleared his throat and tugged at his cravat, in a move that had become so dear to her in the last few days. He was never as comfortable in formal attire as he was in his work clothes. It was quite strange that she’d married a man with a vocation. A calling, a purpose in his life. So different from other men of the ton. She liked it. She liked him.

“Do you need a few more minutes?” he asked.

She shook her head. She was ready.

“Thank God,” he murmured, crossing quickly to her and gathering her in his arms. 

Then he was kissing her and every thought in Ruby’s head was utterly gone.

Graham supposed he should have paid more attention to his wedding, but with the wedding night so very close, he just couldn’t. Every time he looked at Ruby - in her cream colored gown that made her skin and green eyes glow, and delicate veil that trailed behind - he caught his breath and felt the tightening in his body that he had to will away while in the presence of so many.

Soon, he thought.

And then soon became now and they were alone, and she was in his arms, responding to his kiss, and he just couldn’t believe how beautiful she was as his fingers buried themselves in her long, long hair that reached nearly to her waist. He’d never seen it down, he realized, and he’d had no idea how long it was when he’d only ever seen it gathered up at the nape of her neck.

“I always wondered why women wore their hair up,” he murmured into the skin of her jaw as he peppered soft nips and kisses there. “But now I know.”

“Well,” gasped Ruby, “it is expected out there in society.”

He pulled back and smiled down into her slightly dazed countenance. “That’s not why,” he said, shaking his head. Her brow furrowed slightly and Graham placed a tender kiss on the lines in her forehead, utterly delighted in the fact that the privilege of kissing Ruby anytime and anywhere he wanted was now his. Forever and ever, Amen.

“It’s for the protection of all the other men of the ton,” he continued, a smug smirk tugging on the corner of his lips.

Ruby’s eyes widened in surprise. “I think you mean protection from all the other men of the ton,” she said.

“No,” he insisted. “Protection of. Because I’d have to kill any other man who beheld you thus.”

“Graham,” she admonished him on a whisper. But she was blushing as she said it.

“No man who saw this would be able to resist you,” he said, his fingers running through the long locks and twisting a strand around his pointer finger. “I’m quite sure of that.”

Ruby snorted inelegantly. “Many have been able to resist me over the years,” she said, the self-deprecation in her words raising his ire.

“They were all fools,” he interjected, vehemently. “And it only proves my point. This has been hidden away for years, has it not?” he asked, bringing the strand to his nose and inhaling deeply, the scent of rosewater filling his sinuses.

“Since I was sixteen,” she murmured.

“I’m glad,” he said, his face lowering toward hers again, his breath whispering against her lips. “Some London idiot would have snapped you up years ago if you’d tugged out your hairpins.”

“It’s only hair,” she whispered. Her lips trembled as his nose nuzzled hers.

“You’re right. It’s only hair,” he agreed. “Because on anyone else, I don’t believe it would be so intoxicating. It must be you, then,” he said, dropping the strand he’d held and capturing her lips with his own.

He couldn’t understand how just a simple kiss could turn his blood to fire in his veins. His tongue touched the seam of her lips and she opened to him with a low moan in the back of her throat. 

He’d forgotten. He’d forgotten the sweetness of her lips. He’d kissed her several times now and each time he did, the sweetness of her mouth surprised him. It must be for the preservation of their routine, their everyday life. Because if he did remember how it felt to kiss her, to taste her, he’d never stop. Not for his work. Not to eat. Not to sleep. Hell, not to breathe. 

~*~*~

~*~*~

He pulled back and the whimper of loss from Ruby’s lips nearly undid him. “Patience, dearest,” he whispered, turning her in his arms. The back of her gown was adorned with small silk covered buttons, from her shoulder blades to the swell of her bottom, and he began to undo them. One by one. Inch by tantalizing inch of skin revealed, until finally he reached the last one, just above the cleft. What would he give to kiss Ruby right there? 

As he opened the last button, revealing the small square of skin to his sight, he couldn’t help himself. He sank to his knees and placed a tender kiss right there, making Ruby shiver. This was Ruby. Ruby. His bride. His wife. She was strong. She was passionate. She was magnificent. She was his.

He rose to his feet again and turned her back around, her gown falling to the floor and baring her to his sight. He couldn’t look at her though. Not yet. He gazed into her face, her eyes half lidded in rapture, her kiss swollen lips parted slightly as her breath stuttered in and out. He ran his hand up from her hips until his fingers grazed the side of her breast.

Capturing her lips once again, his hand firmly cupped her weight in his hand. “Graham,” she moaned against his lips, and his heart tripped at the thought that this had all come to pass.

Both his hands cupped the fullness of her breasts as his mouth devoured hers. It was only then that he felt the lightest of brushes of her fingers along his shoulders as she reached for him, drawing him closer to her warmth. His own arms reached around her and pulled her close, until she was lined up with him from her shoulders to her feet. 

The emotion within him surged and his eyes filled with tears. Tears of disbelief and tears of joy. He had to see her. The sun hadn’t yet set outside and the golden rays flooded their bedchamber, bathing Ruby in a glow that dazzled his sight. How he’d gotten so lucky, he’d never know, but he vowed then and there to never take it for granted and to simply enjoy the fact that he was the most blessed man alive.

~*~*~

~*~*~

He pulled back from her again and began working his own buttons, watching Ruby watch him, her eyes growing wider as more of his skin was revealed. Once his shirt was opened, he turned around and removed the garment, only to spin quickly back to face her when he heard her gasp.

He’d forgotten. He’d completely forgotten to keep his back away from her sight.

“What happened?” Her voice was low and trembling, though from terror or disgust, he couldn’t tell. But she was his wife, and while he could avoid the vivid reminders of his childhood, she couldn’t.

“I was whipped,” he said quietly. 

Her eyes narrowed and Graham realized that not only was her voice trembling, her limbs were as well, and not from his lovemaking. 

She was enraged.

“Who did this to you?”

“My father.” Such a simple phrase that encompassed so much. He remembered well the day. He took a deep shuddering breath as the memories washed over him. He’d been twelve and home from school when his father had requested that he join him on a hunt. Graham hadn’t been gone so long that he’d forgotten that Thomas Humbert didn’t request anything. Graham was a good horseman, but not good enough for the jump his father had taken ahead of him. He’d tried to make the jump as well, knowing he’d be branded a coward for not making the attempt.

He’d fallen, of course. Been thrown really. He’d walked away without injury, miraculously, but his father had been livid. His vision of English manhood did not include tumbles from horseback. His sons would ride and shoot and fence and box and excel and excel and excel.

And God help them if they did not.

George had made the jump. He was two years Graham’s elder. Two years taller, two years stronger. He’d tried to intervene when Thomas had turned the whip on his younger son, but he’d only been beaten as well for his trouble. Graham needed to learn how to be a man, Thomas had growled, and no one would be permitted to interfere with his deserved punishment. Not even George.

Graham wasn’t sure what was different about that day. Thomas had seemed angrier than usual and while he normally used his belt, which didn’t leave marks, this day he grabbed the whip. And even when Graham’s shirt shredded under the beating, his father still hadn’t stopped. 

It was the only time his father’s beatings had left a physical scar. And Graham was stuck with the reminder for the rest of his life.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He hadn’t meant for her to see them. He hadn’t wanted to expose himself to her this way, bringing her into the horror of his childhood.

“I’m not,” she said. Graham’s eyes widened in surprise. “I’m furious.”

God help him - because he certainly couldn’t help himself - he burst out laughing. Here was his beautiful, magnificent, naked wife, trembling in fury, looking like she was ready to march right down to hell to take out her own retribution against Thomas Humbert for his crimes against his son.

She startled slightly at his mirth, but then she smiled too, recognizing the importance of the moment. Graham continued smiling at her, the memory of his father and that day slipping away. He grabbed her hand and placed it over his heart.

“So strong,” she murmured, her gaze and fingers tracing the lines of his shoulders, arms, and chest, approval plain in her tone. “I had no idea it was so difficult, working in the greenhouse.”

He positively preened under her compliment. “I do work outside too, you know,” he said, quite unable to just thank her for the compliment.

“With the laborers?” she asked, looking up at him from underneath her lashes.

Graham’s brows raised in amusement. “Ruby Jones…”

“Humbert,” she interrupted.

He couldn’t hide the surge of pleasure inside him at the reminder. “Ruby Humbert,” he agreed softly. “Have you been harboring secret fantasies about the laborers?”

The indignant look on her face made him chuckle. “Of course not! Although…” she trailed away, looking a little sheepish.

“Although,” he prompted.

“They do look awfully elemental, toiling out there under the hot sun.”

Graham smiled. Slowly, like a man about to feast upon a banquet of all his favorite foods.

“Oh, Ruby,” he said, his lips meeting the skin of her neck and trailing down, down, down until he reached the curve of her breast. “You have no idea of elemental. No idea at all.” 

~*~*~

~*~*~

Then he did what he’d been dreaming of. Well, one of the things he’d been dreaming of. He licked her nipple then blew on it before sucking it into the warm cavern of his mouth.

“Graham!” she shrieked.

He swept her into his arms and carried her over to the bed, already turned down for the newlyweds. He laid her upon the sheets and stood back to just look at her. He was pleased that she didn’t try to cover herself from his sight and he just stood soaking in her beauty before his trembling hands began to work on his pants.

“Let me,” she whispered, her eyes glowing. Graham caught his breath and  nodded, laying down beside her. She reached for him, but before she could undo the fasteners on his pants, he ran his fingers along the silk of her stockings, the last garment she wore. He slid the first down her leg, delighted when a laugh burst from her when his fingers grazed the back of her knee.

“Ticklish?” he asked, and she nodded shyly, finally undoing his trousers. They both rid themselves of the other’s clothing until they were fully naked and facing one another on the bed.

His fingers trailed gently down her cheek and cupped her chin, bringing her lips to his. 

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he assured her.

“I’m not afraid,” she murmured, her breath brushing over his lips.

He drew back, just a little surprised at her words. “You’re not?”

She shook her head. “Nervous? Yes. But not afraid.”

Graham chuckled. “You are magnificent, Ruby. Do you know that?”

Ruby shrugged, a sly smile on her face. “I keep telling everyone that, but you’re the only one who seems to believe me.”

He really laughed that time and he realized what a gift that was. Twice since he’d entered the bedchamber, she’d made him laugh. Who would have thought that he’d be here, on his wedding night, laughing with his bride. Certainly not him.

He kissed her hard and then began his lovemaking in earnest, exploring Ruby from her head to her feet. He kissed, and he nipped, and he licked, and he touched, finding all the places that made her gasp and moan in pleasure. He was as hard as he’d ever been in his life, but this was Ruby’s first time enjoying the physical intimacy of married love and he was more concerned about introducing this joy and wonder of discovery between them than satisfying his own needs. 

He finally touched her between her legs, and Ruby released a trembling sigh from above him. He looked up at her and found her looking down at him, her eyes glazed, her mouth open slightly. She focused on him and Graham grinned at her, dipping his finger inside her and then popping the digit in his mouth to taste her essence.

“Delicious,” he murmured.

“Graham?” she asked, almost in a whisper. “How much is it going to hurt?”

Her question startled him and he quickly schooled his features.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I hope not too much.”

She nodded. “I keep…” Her words trailed off and Graham waited patiently for her to finish. 

“Tell me,” he urged, when she remained silent.

“I keep getting swept away,” she said haltingly, “but then I’ll see you, or feel you, and I just can’t imagine how that is going to fit inside me, and I’ll lose it. The magic,” she explained. “I keep losing the magic.”

Graham’s lips curved into a wicked smile. “Let me give you the magic,” he said. “Stay right there. Don’t move.” He kissed her hard and then moved down her body to the one place his lips had avoided so far. He spread her legs wide and kissed her.

Ruby screamed.

“Very good,” Graham breathed into her center. He held her still, his hands holding her hips firmly. He had no choice, for she was writhing and squirming like a wild woman as he tasted and explored every fold, every crevice of her womanhood. He was voracious and he devoured her, thinking that this had to be the very best thing he’d ever done in his entire life and he was able to do this every day for the rest of his life.

He’d heard other men talk about it, of course, but he’d had no idea it was this good. He was terrifyingly close to losing himself and she hadn’t even touched him. It was a good thing too. The way she was gripping the sheets, she’d be liable to tear him apart.

Ruby stiffened above him, crying out her ecstasy, and a surge of sweetness exploded on his tongue. He couldn’t enjoy everything she gave him because his own needs took over and he could hold back no longer. He tried to go slowly, for her sake, but when she lifted her hips to meet him - her fingers digging into his shoulders in wild demand, his name a prayer on her lips - he surged forward into her depths all the way to the hilt.

He checked her face for any sign of pain but he saw none as he began to pump a steady rhythm into her. He was rougher than he wanted to be, but it had been so long and he needed her so much, he just couldn’t help himself. She seemed to enjoy it though, meeting him thrust for thrust.

And when she moaned, it wasn’t his name. It was More.

He slipped his hands underneath her bottom and lifted her toward him. Just that slight change in angle, pushed her over the edge again and the tight sheath of her squeezing him had him spilling himself inside her with a roar of her name, claiming her finally and indelibly as his own.

~*~*~

Thank you for reading and sharing! I'd love to hear what you think! Next ch will be up Friday night before I go to bed.

[slickchickchocolatier]

N 3 W B E G 1 N N 1 N G S : S A T A N

C H A P T E R 1 N E

Warnings: Not in this one so much. Referencing to events of SE7EN series, a short chapter, chapters 2 and 3 is where it's going to be at, there is mentions/references to how Heeseung obtained his y/n, pregnancy, the members are all 7 princes of hell, mentions of demons and angels.

“What’s going on with you? Ever since you came back from your last visit from the mortal realm with Asmo, you seem out of it.” 

A small breeze swifts through Sunghoon’s hair while Jungwon steps into the scene of his royal abode. Each brother inherited their own lavish palace, stationed in separate regions throughout Hell, courtesy of the eldest brother. Within their respective estates, the brothers meticulously designed and decorated the dwellings to reflect their tasteful fashion, mapping out the aura of his own personal nature. Despite being one of the infamous Seven Princes of Hell, Sunghoon had always adored the color white. It reminded him of his formal hearth back when he and his siblings resided in their former master’s Heavenly kingdom, as his main ArchAngels. Keeping in memory of the past, his kingdom flourished in lush white Lilies, surrounding the beige, and gold infrastructures that outlined the points of his castle. The interior matched with tapestries, draperies, and ornaments of similar colors, never to extend past the hues of the soft and natural palettes. 

He doesn’t answer his younger brother, at least not immediately. Detracting his mind, he changes the course of the subject by asking how the Queen and King are fairing. 

“They’re doing well. I stepped in for a visit just yesterday, the Queen is handling the pregnancy rather well, considering she had only adjusted to immortality not long before conceiving.” 

Dragging his finger along the white satin threaded backdrop, Jungwon softly chuckles as he makes his remarks regarding his eldest brother, and his new found bride. “She’s adjusting well….perhaps not by choice, either way, she at least knows her place is by Heeseung’s side.” 

Nodding, Sunghoon’s attention drifts back to the moment when he saw you. In spite of meeting you for a few seconds– if you can even call it a meeting, subsequently you had unknowingly created a stir within Satan himself. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something about you that he couldn’t get off his mind. Not a moment had passed since, where he didn’t think of who you were, what continent you came from, or what name you were blessed with upon your birth. Some days, it was more frustrating than nostalgic when drafting the details of your face in his mind, since he couldn’t quite figure out what it was that caused you to become engraved in his heart. Surely, this couldn’t be the very thing that had caused his elder brother to become engrossed with his mortal bride, thousands of years before she even came into existence. This couldn’t be the same tortuous ache that pained him all that time, forcing him to lay dormant in a state of unconsciousness and choosing to dream of her versus spending his time awake. This couldn’t be…

“Where is Heeseung? Is he currently in the Sanguis Orchid Palatium?” 

Jungwon nods with a sly smirk, sensing the urgency of his elder as he immediately exits the great hall. Using the ranges of his abilities in dark magic, Sunghoon transports to the home of his eldest sibling. Arriving at the grand entrance, Heeseung’s empty throne lays ahead, paired with the seating that belonged to his beloved wife. In front of the two royal stations, was the massive pedestal bed that Heeseung had specially made, all for him to keep a solid sight on his darling wife while she laid scantily dressed. The flashback image of when the Queen was initially brought to Hell, abiding by a contract she wouldn’t have been able to escape from, travels in and out of Sunghoon’s memory. At the time, the Queen was transitioning to her immortal state, and succumbed to the King’s maniacal sense of affection and obsession. Never affording the opportunity for her to leave his sight, Heeseung entrapped his lovely darling eternally, not even allowing her to sit on the throne beside him, finding it more suitable for his queen to be in front and in plain view. His twisted obsession had triggered him to become mad with love and possession, opting to observe and study his wife nearly every day, never retiring from his indulgence in her. Even now, after one year’s time had past, the Queen lives a life where she no longer is limited to remain on the boxed framed bedding, shrouded behind sheer chiffon of the canopy that framed the bed, however, she will always remain under the watchful eye of her husband. A price to pay for eternal love and protection. 

“They must be inside the palace.” Mentally remarking their absence from their usual standing at the great entrance, Sunghoon makes his way down the elongated pathway that led to the large double doors. The passageway was lined by a parallel row of demonic guards that rendered respect to the demon prince. Breaching the monumental entrance, the sentinels that manned it bowed politely before opening the double doors, admitting the crown prince his entry. Greeted by the massive marble hall, lined by mirrored glass frames, Sunghoon swiftly walks through one regal chamber after another. 

“Your highness, are you here to seek out His and Her Majesties?” Greeted by the precedent chamberlain up ahead, Sunghoon emits a single nod in response. 

“Very well, right this way.” 

The sovereign attendant guides the Hellish prince to the colossal ballroom, which contains a lustrous detail of dark marble walls and flooring, with brass ornaments that symbolizes a Gothic love story, all lining the mighty and elegant pillars that surround the room. Ahead, Heeseung lazily sits in his second throne, with his very pregnant wife atop his lap. In spite of being in the late stages of pregnancy, the queen’s immortal standing allowed for her to remain in her usual appeal, one without a large belly. It was the aura surrounding her that strongly indicated the strength and development of the child she carries, and while she didn’t carry a large belly, there was indeed, a belly. It was subtle and rounded, smaller than what it would be had she still been mortal, yet the fact she was indeed showing could only mean that the child was much stronger than the average offspring, and possibly is taking more after its father. Yet then again, it is the offspring of the Devil. 

“Sunghoon…” Heeseung calmly greets; his deep voice faintly echoes and travels down the narrow corridor hallways. 

“Heeseung, my lady, good to see you both.” Emitting a small bow, Sunghoon lets out a comfortable tone as he greets the pair. Chuckling, the elder strokes his chin as he grows wide eyed from the sudden appearance of his younger brother. Slyly smirking, Heeseung’s devilish senses proceed him, further expanding his great wisdom and intuition. “You have something on your mind–or rather, someone…” 

Sunghoon displays a stunned countenance before relaxing to his composed manner. Chuckling, he closes his eyes as he nods, tilting his head to the side as he swoops his side part. “Has it become that obvious?” 

Responding with his own deep chuckle, Heeseung faintly nods before shifting his gaze upon his queen. Snaking his hand around her waist, he cups the subtle belly protruding under her silk dress, and leaves a tender kiss on the side of her head while issuing gentle taps of his finger tips. “Pretty, sit here for a moment and wait for my return.” She nods gracefully in response, however, contrary to her seemingly obedient nature, a golden chain formulates out of particle speckles that appear out of thin air. Binding her by the ankle, the other end of the chain slithers and encircles around Heeseung’s wrist. No matter how far or wide the owner travels, the piece extends and retracts at the will of its master, in this case, it was Heeseung. It would appear that the King of Hell had every ounce of trust in his Queen, but maintained reservations for closure and comfort in knowing that she remained bound, should he be further than one-arm’s distance away. 

The two walked across the ballroom, stationed between two pillars that faced a large balcony that overlooked the entire region. Heeseung’s castle resided on the highest peak in the underworld, quite fitting for the Prince of Darkness. 

“So who did you see on your last visit to the human world?” Peaking a brow, Heeseung admires the wide open view as he beckons his younger brother. 

“What makes you think it was a mortal?” 

Hearing Sunghoon out, Heeseung flares his traditional smirk as he side-eyes his sibling. “I never said that it was…” 

Sunghoon gives out a series of blinks before sighing in defeat. Heeseung was far too clever to be dragged into the trenches of a guessing game, or perhaps the former was simply terrible in drawing out explanations. Either way, Sunghoon punches through the icebreaker and cuts to the point. “When you saw the Queen, was it the same?” 

Heeseung side-eyes his brother once more, this time without a smirk accompanying it. Clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth, he glances over his shoulder and peeks at his beloved, remaining poised and obedient on his throne. Switching his gaze back on the horizon, he understood the pain that Sunghoon was breaching, he understood it all too well. However, his younger sibling has an advantage, one that wasn’t afforded to Heeseung himself, at least not for seven thousand years time. Imparting the only guidance he had to offer, he comforts Sunghoon’s mind and provides a calming solution to the storm that was brewing in his demon heart. 

“Do you think of her night and day?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know where to find her?”

“Yes.” 

“Then go get her.”

Sunghoon slowly turns and faces his elder, pawning a reflective stare, only to find Heeseung’s side profile kissed by the permanent moon’s light, enhancing his noble elegance. His eyes remained thoughtful, taking his heart back to a time where he recalled the feeling of longing and desiring for the one thing that remained unreal for so long. His silence spoke louder than any word in existence, and he knew that his message was received.  With that, Heeseung softly pats Sunghoon’s shoulder, before turning away to tend back to his queen. Committing a half turn, watching as his brother takes the queen's hands, and aids her to stand all the while caressing her cheek, Sunghoon reflects back to a time when he and his brothers witnessed a change in Heeseung. Back to a time when he blocked the sight of his eyes beneath black lace, and silently waited for many years, until the time finally came when he rediscovered his love, looking exactly the way she had when he traveled through the corridors of time and became mesmerized by her image. 

And here, he now stands, emotionally resembling his elder brother’s past, although unlike Heeseung, Sunghoon is presented with a choice, one that he does not have to wait seven thousand years for. 

Stroking her cheek, Heeseung dispels a hazy gaze under heavy lids, admiring the most precious wonder in his lifetime. Watching as she turns, looking past the sheer curtains that shelter the grand ballroom of the open air that ties with the deep horizon, she remarks Sunghoon’s sudden disappearance. “He left?” 

Turning his face in the same direction, Heeseung smirks as he softly grips the side of his beloved’s neck. “Yes, as he should.” 

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being "negative" about a bunny and refusing to apologize? I don't think I can really shorten this, so I'm sorry for the lack of a TL;DR :/ It's pretty long!! TW for animal death(and potentially animal abuse?)

My mom(42 F) has a habit of randomly bringing pets home. For context, she's a single mother with four kids, with me(17) being the oldest, alongside my sister("E",13) and my two brothers(7 and 4, not relevant to the story). My sister and I share a room and my brothers share one too. My mom works a job that involves sleeping at work and doesn't think it's worth it for us to rent a three bedroom, so she sleeps on the couch on her nights off.

The first time was mid-2020 when she brought home a feral kitten my grandpa found underneath his house. What was supposed to be a family pet quickly turned into a pet that was kept only to E's and my room. He had some sort of sinus issue where he snotted everywhere all the time, so snot was constantly needing to be cleaned and being found randomly on our things. The cat was eventually rehomed after a year because it scratched my sister really badly to the point that my mom was concerned she would need stitches(she didn't. the cat didn't like being pet / touched and my sister wouldn't respect its boundries).

The second time was another cat(2021) that followed my mom from her cat to her place of work. This was when I started getting frustrated with my mom randomly bringing home animals, since the same set up that happened last time happened again- except this time, the cat got old enough to spray, and my mom kept forgetting to get him fixed so our room just smelled fucking awful. This cat was also rehomed when I broke down after realizing it has sprayed all over my books. I told my mom he either needed to be fixed or she needed to get rid of him. He was gone the next week.

Then last year it happened again- except this time, with a puppy(2022). My aunt was looking to get a new dog and sent some puppy photos to my mom, which she cooed over and showed me. She told me she was considering bringing one home, which I instantly told her was a bad idea and went over all the cons. Mom seemed to agree. Then guess what happened to be an early Christmas gift.... -_-

My sister and I took charge on the dog. We got our brothers to agree on a name for him(anyone with younger siblings knows this is a BIG deal lmao), started attempting to crate train him(basically making sure he's okay with eventually being left alone without crying the whole time), and we were the only ones trying to potty train him. Our mom didn't stick to any of this(including choosing a new name??) and the dog still isn't potty trained, and I'm the only one other than my mom that doesn't refuse to clean up after him. The dog doesn't stay in our room like the other animals, but it took months for my sister and I to convince our mom to get a hook lock for our door so the dog wouldn't keep coming in and peeing. The dog didn't end up getting rehomed, but now regularly stays at our aunt's house way more than ours.

It's worth noting at this point that all of these pets were "family pets" according to mom, and she would get upset when me and E pointed out we were really the only one taking care of them. The dog evened out after a while and now it's mostly my mom and I doing the work when he's here, but the cats are still a point of tension for us.

And now. For the fucking bunny!! Jesus christ I'm sorry there's so much backstory to this!!

A week ago my sister comes into our room and wakes me up to tell me mom brought home a baby bunny. It was scary small(3.5 inches long not stretching, 2 weeks old), and wasn't moving much but was clearly alive. My mom said it ran into my Nana's yard after the dog next door scared it off, and it's pretty safe to assume the nest is destroyed. But instead of bringing the rabbit to a wildlife rehab or something, my mom brought it home and told my sister she could keep it. They then put it in a box with some grass and water and did no further research.

I was pretty livid, because 1. This is a WILD rabbit. That's a crime in my state, 2. I think it was insanely irresponsible for my mom to drop this on us, 3. This is not a pet and it's very likely it'll die in our care just from us not being experienced, and 4. On a very basic and selfish level, I didn't want to take care of this animal and I didn't want it in our room(which it had to be). But E has been asking for a bunny for years, so for once she wasn't on my side about a new pet being dropped on us. So I was pretty outnumbered.

I kept pushing for my mom to contact a professional at the very least to ask about its diet(it's very easy to kill baby bunnies by feeding them the wrong thing), and kept trying to get my sister to stop holding / petting it since rabbits can die of stress. My mom listened after a day and my sister never did. Tbh I also thought if my mom contacted a professional the pro would tell her to absolutely not keep the bunny? But it was never brought up in their convo, so I think my mom might have lied about it or something, idk.

I continued being "negetive" about the rabbit and my sister kicked me out of our room for it. I refused to care for it too, even though my mom kept insisting it was a "family" pet(without me it was just her and E taking care of it, and since it stayed in our room my brothers never really got to see it). To be honest I really didn't feel like I had a lot of options, and I thought if I didn't help then maybe they would get overwhelmed or something and decide to give it to a professional. But I still kept trying to give pet care advice, because I didn't want any harm to come to the bunny(for example, my sister likes our room to never have to ac on, but i made sure she was keeping it cool enough for the bunny).

Well... After four days, the bunny died. E was pretty heartbroken, obviously, and my mom was sad, but to be honest I'm just sort of bitter. I'm upset a rabbit died just because my mom wouldn't listen. For more context, I also thought bringing in the bunny was a bad idea because my sister recently lost her dad, and I knew if it didn't end well this would just add more grief to her life. I 100% don't think she's TA in this situation, even if she has frustrated me.

I'm still pretty pissed at my mom for all of this, so yesterday when she sat me down and told me I should apologize to E for how I behaved, I didn't take it well. She said my negetivity made it so E didn't fully enjoy her time with the bunny, and that if I had handled things differently maybe things would have tunred out better. I know E has been avoiding me, which started when we first got the bunny and she kicked me out of the room for being too negetive. I feel like she just needs time to process, and to be honest I don't think this is something I should apologize for, even if it is an apology just to make her feel better. It feels like that would be irresponsible of me? Idk. I told my mom none of this would have happened if SHE hadn't been so irresponsible and brought the bunny home to a grieving teenager, when there wasn't much of a chance of the bunny surviving with us in the first place, but tbh ever since her dad died I've been really trying to do right by E, so I second-guess myself a lot now.

So AITA for being negetive about the bunny and refusing to apologize? To be clear again I don't think E is TA here, but they're both upset with me so idk.

What are these acronyms?