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basset-babe · 7 months ago

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five times: the one point five.

pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

warnings: none but gossip yet again

word count: 2.9k+

a/n: please do send me a message or comment down if you would like to be added on the succeeding taglists for the five times series! here is 1.5 times with ben. enjoy! thanks loves <3! (also, pls do imagine ben holding a graft rose for this one heh)

five times series: the first. the one point five. the second. the third. the three point five. the fourth . at last. text divider from @heavenlayt and pattern banner from @cafekitsune thank you!

the one point five time.

In the hours of sunlight, callers have flooded the Y/L/N drawing room. All bringing gifts and performances in hopes to win the favourable yes of the season's paragon, Miss Y/N Y/L/N. The grand parlor, adorned with exquisite tapestries and sparkling chandeliers, buzzed with the lively hum of conversations and the tinkling laughter of society’s elite. Lavish bouquets of rare, fragrant flowers filled the room, their heady scent mingling with the aroma of freshly brewed tea and delectable pastries arrayed on silver platters.

Gentlemen, dressed in their finest attire, lined up to present their offerings to Miss Y/L/N, each one more extravagant than the last. Some brought intricate jewelry, glittering with precious stones, while others offered rare books, hoping to appeal to her reputed love of literature. Musicians performed virtuoso pieces on the grand piano, their fingers dancing over the keys in a bid to capture her attention through the power of melody. Poets recited verses composed in her honor, their words dripping with adoration and longing.

Miss Y/L/N, the epitome of grace and poise, received each suitor with a warm smile and a gracious word. Her eyes, sparkling with intelligence and kindness, moved across the room, acknowledging the efforts and intentions of each visitor. Her charm was such that even a simple nod or a softly spoken thank you felt like a cherished treasure to the eager suitors.

The hour had struck past 1 in the afternoon when, hopefully, the last caller of the day had bid his farewells. The Y/L/N drawing room, which had been a whirlwind of activity, now began to settle into a quieter, more contemplative atmosphere. The sunlight streaming through the large windows cast a bright hue over the room, highlighting the opulent furnishings and the array of gifts that had been presented to Miss Y/N Y/L/N throughout the morning.

Servants moved gracefully, clearing away the remnants of the lavish spread of refreshments while ensuring that every detail of the room remained immaculate. The air was still fragrant with the scent of roses, lilies, and other exotic flowers that had been brought by admirers, creating a heady, almost intoxicating environment.

"As much as I do love botanicals, all these flowers have turned obnoxious to my senses, Grandmama," Y/N sighed, feeling the urge to slouch on the couch. Her frame was poised elegantly despite her weariness, a testament to her upbringing and the endless etiquette lessons she had endured.

Her grandmother, the Viscountess Y/L/N, reentered the room with a look of satisfaction mixed with maternal concern. "My dear," she said softly, "you have conducted yourself admirably. The attention you have garnered is truly remarkable, but alas, this be the trials of being the season's paragon," she said with jest. "A small price to pay for such adoration and the opportunities it presents."

Y/N allowed herself a small, rueful smile. "It has been a most eventful day. I do hope I have shown the proper appreciation to each caller." She gently plucked a stray petal from her gown, its soft texture a stark contrast to her current mood.

"Rest assured, my dear, that this too shall pass," her grandmother replied soothingly. "Soon, you will look back on these days with fondness, perhaps even in laughter."

Y/N nodded, though she wasn't entirely convinced. She admired her grandmother's ability to see the positive in any situation. Lady Y/L/N had once been the toast of her own social season, and her wisdom was hard-earned through years of navigating similar waters.

"Would it be terribly improper to open a window, Grandmama?" Y/N asked, her eyes drifting towards the heavy drapes that concealed the afternoon breeze. "I believe a bit of fresh air might revive my spirits."

The Viscountess chuckled softly. "Not at all, my dear. In fact, I think it would do us both good." She motioned to a nearby maid, who quickly moved to pull back the drapes and open the window, allowing a refreshing breeze to sweep into the room. The cool air carried with it the scents of the garden outside, a welcome contrast to the overwhelming floral arrangements within.

Y/N took a deep breath, feeling instantly more at ease. "Thank you, Grandmama. That is much better."

"Now, my dear," Mrs. Y/L/N said, her tone becoming more serious, "while you have a moment of peace, tell me—was there any caller today who truly caught your eye?"

Y/N considered the question carefully. There had been many suitors, each with their own merits. Some had been charming, others earnest, and a few rather boastful. But it was not that she minded all these suitors; it was who she looked forward to that truly occupied her thoughts. It had been this Bridgerton man she'd hoped would be calling on her the entire morning. Unfortunately, he had not been seen yet in this drawing room.

"Y/N, my dear, are you still with us?" Lady Y/L/N's gentle voice broke through her reverie.

"Yes, Grandmama," Y/N replied, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "I was merely thinking."

"About anyone in particular?" her grandmother inquired with a knowing smile.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then decided there was no point in hiding her thoughts from her perceptive grandmother. "To be quite honest, I was hoping to see Mr. Bridgerton today.. well as of this morn," she admitted. "I fear he may have been otherwise engaged."

"Ah, Mr. Bridgerton," Lady Y/L/N said thoughtfully. "A fine young man, from a respected family. It is no wonder you look forward to his call. Perhaps he will still make an appearance."

Y/N nodded, though she knew the likelihood was slim as the noon wore on. She took another deep breath of the fresh air now circulating through the room, trying to shake off her disappointment. The season was long, and there would be other opportunities to see him again.

"There was Sir Nicholas Deveraeux. He was quite charming," Y/N remarked.

"He comes from a good family as well, but I've heard his uncle," Her grandmother leaned in conspiratorially, "envies the crown."

Y/N laughed at the Viscountess' antics. "Grandmama, that's quite scandalous. Wherever did you hear such a thing?" Y/N laughed.

"Deborah told me," her grandmother said, motioning to her maid. Y/N couldn't help but laugh at the notion of her grandmama indulging in gossip. "But I must tell you, I keep my options open still," she stated matter-of-factly, regaining my composure.

"Even though you are clearly captivated by Mr. Bridgerton's smile," Her grandmother teased. "It is wise to keep your options open, my dear, so as not to appear too eager for any one gentleman's attentions."

"Indeed," Y/N thought to herself, "it is prudent not to seem desperate and helpless this early in the season. After all, the season is just beginning, and there will be many more opportunities for maybe much more meaningful encounters."

The older woman patted the young lady's hand reassuringly. "You are a clever girl, my Y/N. Your charm and grace will surely attract many suitors. Just remember to enjoy the process and not to place all your hopes on one gentleman, no matter how enchanting his smile may be."

Y/N nodded, feeling a renewed sense of determination. The season was an adventure, and she was ready to embrace it with an open heart and mind. As her grandmama said, there would be many chances to find the right match, and she intends to savor every moment.

Just as she was about to resign herself to the wait, a soft knock sounded at the drawing room door. Both Y/N and her grandmother turned their heads in surprise as the butler entered.

"Forgive the interruption, ma'am," he said with a slight bow. "But there is one more caller who has just arrived."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as the butler stepped aside, revealing none other than Mr. Bridgerton himself. He stood at the threshold, his confident demeanor softened by a warm, sincere smile.

"Good afternoon, Lady Y/L/N, Miss Y/L/N," he greeted them, bowing respectfully. "I apologize for my tardiness. I hope I am not intruding."

Lady Y/L/N's eyes twinkled with amusement as she replied, "Not at all, Mr. Bridgerton. We are delighted to see you."

Y/N felt her spirits lift instantly, her earlier fatigue forgotten. "Indeed, Mr. Bridgerton," she said, her smile reflecting the genuine pleasure she felt. "Your timing is impeccable."

Mr. Bridgerton's eyes met hers, and for a moment, it felt as though they were the only two people in the room. "I am glad to hear that, Miss Y/L/N," he said. "I have been looking forward to our meeting."

As he stepped further into the room, bringing with him an air of warmth and possibility, Y/N knew that this visit was just the beginning. The season held many uncertainties, but in that moment, with Mr. Bridgerton's presence brightening the drawing room, she felt a renewed sense of hope and excitement for what was to come.

He walked closer, offering his wrapped gift with a warm smile. "I know of your love of botanicals. Although, I wasn't sure what to get, but I opted for a grafted Rosa Falstaff from our estate's own gardens."

Y/N's eyes widened with surprise and delight as she reached out to accept the potted rose. "A Rosa Falstaff? From your family's gardens?" she exclaimed, her fingers gently tracing the leaves and delicate blooms.

"Yes," Benedict nodded, his gaze softening as he watched her reaction. "I thought it would be a fitting addition to your collection, considering your fondness for floriculture."

"Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton. This is truly truly thoughtful of you." Y/N's eyes lit up as she accepted the graft, appreciating the gesture.

Mr. Bridgerton smiled, a hint of relief and pleasure in his eyes. "I'm glad you like them, Miss Y/L/N. I thought something from home might be more personal and meaningful than the usual offerings."

Mrs. Y/L/N, observing the interaction with a pleased expression, decided to give the young couple some space. "If you'll excuse me, I have some correspondence to attend to," she said, rising gracefully. "Please, Mr. Bridgerton, make yourself comfortable."

As her grandmother left the room, Y/N gestured for Mr. Bridgerton to sit beside her on the elegant settee. "It's so refreshing to receive something so genuine," she said, placing the graft gently on the table beside them. "Tell me more about your estate's gardens. They must be quite beautiful."

Mr. Bridgerton settled into the seat, his expression brightening as he began to speak. "Our gardens are indeed a sight to behold, especially in the spring. We have a variety of flowers, from different roses to lavender, and even some more exotic species like that which my mother is particularly fond of. Each section of the garden has its own unique charm and character."

Y/N listened intently, her interest piqued not just by the subject but by the way he spoke with such genuine affection for his home. "It sounds enchanting," she said. "I would love to see it someday."

He smiled, clearly pleased by her response. "I would be honored to show you around Aubrey Hall, Miss Y/L/N. Perhaps you could offer some advice on expanding our collection of botanicals."

"I would be delighted," Y/N replied, her smile matching his. "There are always new species to discover and cultivate. It would be a pleasure to share that with someone who appreciates it as much as I do."

As they continued to talk, the conversation flowed effortlessly, touching on various topics of mutual interest. The room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them engrossed in their exchange. The connection they felt was palpable, a promising hint of what could be a deep and meaningful relationship.

The noon sun cast a golden glow through the open window, bathing them in warm light. It was as if the world outside had conspired to create the perfect moment, one that Y/N would cherish as the beginning of something truly special.

"Why not a change of scenery, Miss Y/N? May I enchant you to a walk with me this afternoon?" Mr. Bridgerton asked, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Y/N felt a flutter of excitement at his proposal, though very different from norm indeed. The thought of a leisurely walk, away from the confines of the drawing room and amidst the fresh air and beauty of the outdoors, was undeniably appealing. She glanced at her grandmother, who had discreetly lingered near the doorway.

Mrs. Y/L/N, catching her granddaughter's hopeful expression, gave a subtle nod of approval. "I think that sounds like a splendid idea, Mr. Bridgerton," she said. "A bit of fresh air through my garden will do you both good."

"Thank you, Grandmama," Y/N replied, her smile widening. She turned back to Mr. Bridgerton, her eyes meeting his with a mix of excitement and gratitude. "I would be delighted to join you for a walk."

Mr. Bridgerton offered his arm, which Y/N took with a graceful nod. Together, they made their way out of the drawing room and through the grand halls of the Y/L/N residence. The household staff, now accustomed to the comings and goings of numerous callers, discreetly stepped aside, offering polite smiles as the pair passed.

As they stepped out into the sunlight, the warmth of the afternoon embraced them. The gardens of the Y/L/N estate stretched out before them, a riot of color and fragrance that promised a delightful stroll. Birds chirped melodiously, adding a charming soundtrack to their walk.

"Your gardens are truly beautiful, Miss Y/L/N," Mr. Bridgerton remarked as they began their promenade. "It's easy to see where your love for botanicals comes from."

"Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton," Y/N replied, her gaze sweeping over the well-tended flower beds and neatly trimmed hedges. "I find great joy in spending time here. There's something so peaceful about being surrounded by nature."

They walked in comfortable silence for a few moments, taking in the beauty around them. Y/N's lady's maid chaperoning behind. The gravel path crunched softly underfoot, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves overhead.

"I must admit," Mr. Bridgerton said, breaking the silence, "I was quite nervous about coming here today. I wasn't sure if my gift would be well-received."

Y/N looked up at him, surprised. "You needn't have worried," she assured him. "Your gift was one of the most endearing ones I have received. It speaks volumes about your character and your genuine interest. Quite a change in the morn's most fragrant bouquets. All exquisite but a tad bit too much on my senses." I gestured towards my nose.

He smiled, clearly relieved. "I'm glad to hear that, Miss Y/L/N. I hoped to make a meaningful impression."

"You certainly have," she replied warmly. "And now, here we are, enjoying a lovely walk together. It seems your efforts have been rewarded."

As they continued their walk, their conversation flowed effortlessly, touching on topics both serious and lighthearted. They shared stories, laughed together, and discovered common interests. The connection between them grew stronger with each passing moment, the bond of friendship and potential courtship becoming more tangible.

"So, do tell me more about you, Mr. Bridgerton."

"Do call me Benedict, if you please. Provided, of course, that you feel comfortable and we are beyond the earshot of your lady's maid." his eyebrows raise in suggestive jest.

Y/N chuckled, a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. "Very well, Benedict. You may address me by Y/N as well."

Benedict smiled, clearly pleased by her informal, now more familiar, address. "My days are usually spent at home, but sometimes, I spend my time in my art studio at the academy."

"Yes, you've mentioned of yourself an artist, I remember." Y/N remarked, intrigued. "That is fascinating. What sort of art do you create?"

Benedict's face lit up with enthusiasm as he began to describe his passion. "I work primarily with oils on canvas, though I do enjoy sketching as well. There's something incredibly satisfying about capturing a moment or a feeling in a piece of art. It’s a way to express myself that words sometimes fail to achieve."

Y/N listened intently, her admiration growing. "I would love to see your work someday. It must be wonderful to have such a creative outlet."

"It is," Benedict agreed, a note of pride in his voice. "And I would be honored to show you my studio and some of my pieces. Perhaps I could even paint your portrait, if you would allow me."

Y/N blushed at the thought, a mixture of shyness and excitement. "I would be delighted, Benedict. Though I must warn you, I may not be the most patient of sitters."

Benedict laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I’m sure we would manage just fine. And who knows, you might find the experience enjoyable."

"I look forward to it," Y/N said, her smile reflecting her genuine interest. "But tell me more about your family. I have heard much about the Bridgertons, but I would love to hear it from your perspective."

Benedict's expression softened as he spoke of his family. "We are a large, close-knit group. There are eight of us siblings, and we were all raised with a strong sense of duty and love seeing my late father and mother attend to our household. My mother, Violet, is the heart of our family. She has always encouraged us to pursue our passions and support each other."

"That sounds wonderful," Y/N said, touched by his words. "Family is so important. I imagine it must be lively with so many siblings."

"It certainly is," Benedict replied with a grin. "There is never a dull moment at Bridgerton House. We have our share of disagreements, of course, but we always come together in the end. All the laughter and camaraderie make it worthwhile."

Y/N felt a warm connection forming between them, their shared values and interests creating a bond that felt both natural and exciting. "I would love to meet them all someday, even so now that your brother has found himself a wife. Such exciting things!" she said.

"And they would be delighted to meet you," Benedict assured her. "I can already tell that you would fit right in."

"He thinks of me as someone who would fit with his family? I could feel my heart flutter," Y/N thought, the realization sending a warm, thrilling sensation through her.

As they continued their conversation, the afternoon sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the garden. The hours had slipped away unnoticed, a testament to the ease and enjoyment they found in each other's company.

Eventually the day had struck shy of 3 at afternoon and they made their way back to the main house, the promise of future meetings and shared experiences hanging in the air. As they reached the steps, Benedict turned to Y/N, his expression earnest and hopeful.

"Thank you for a wonderful afternoon, Y/N," he said. "I look forward to our next meeting."

"As do I, Benedict," Y/N replied, her heart full of anticipation. "Until then."

With a final, warm smile, Benedict took his leave, leaving Y/N with a sense of happiness and a fluttering hope for the future. The day had been more than she could have imagined, and she felt a deep sense of gratitude for the connection they had begun to forge.

taglist: @novausstuff @pussyslayerhd @amoosarte

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luvsupa · 5 months ago

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“HAPPY ONE YEAR.”

tags: boyfriend!toji x fem!reader, fluff, angst, toji is NOT broke guys please </3, cheating (guys don’t ever cheat), established relationship, heart break, sad ending, oneshot

w.c: 2.3k

a/n: EEK first request 👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏽 based on this ask! I hope i did it right anon 🙏🏽

+ likes and reblogs are appreciative!

you slowly wake up as your alarm clock blares, its annoying ring cutting through your dreams. with a huff, you slam the alarm off and reach out to toji’s side of the bed, only to find it cold and empty.

he must’ve left for work early, you think, shrugging off the thought. after freshening up in the bathroom, you catch a glimpse of your tired reflection, the lack of sleep evident on your face.

you slip on the silk robe toji had custom-made for you, adorned with your initials. as you open the door to head to the kitchen, you stop in your tracks, stunned by the sight before you. the living room is filled with balloons—large and small, floating gracefully around the room.

happy one year! read the silver holographic balloons.

a large bouquet of flowers sits on the coffee table, accompanied by a pastel pink gift bag. an envelope with toji’s handwriting and your name is perched on top.

overwhelmed by the surprise, tears well up in your eyes. you’re deeply touched by toji’s thoughtfulness, feeling loved and seen in a way you hadn’t expected. you had assumed he’d forgotten the anniversary.

as you approach the bouquet, the front door unlocks, and toji walks in with a box of your favorite pastries and two cups of coffee.

“oh no, i thought you were—”

before you can finish, you rush to him, tears streaming down your cheeks. you set the coffee and pastries on the nearest table and wrap your arms around him, struggling to fully embrace his muscular frame.

toji lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as you gaze into his warm, brown eyes. your hands caress his face, your thumb gently tracing the scar on his lip—a favorite detail of yours. you lean in for a passionate kiss, one hand massaging the back of his head.

“i love you so much, ‘toj. thank you,” you say, tears still glistening in your eyes. toji looks at you with awe and tenderness.

“c’mon, baby, go look at ‘yer gift,” he says softly, setting you down and wiping your tears. he guides you to the couch and settles comfortably, pulling you onto his lap.

you gasp as you reach for the gift bag, your heart fluttering with excitement. toji’s hands gently rub your thighs as you pull out a bracelet adorned with charms from your favorite movies and tv shows. each gift you unwrap fills your heart with joy, and you can’t stop smiling and kissing him with every new surprise.

toji chuckles, his hand moving from your thighs to rest on your belly. he gazes into your eyes with warmth. “y’know, i can’t help but think about our future… maybe havin’ a little one runnin’ around someday,” he says softly.

your heart swells at his words. a future with him—a small family filled with love—is everything you’ve ever dreamed of. “i’d love that, ‘toj. i love it so much,” you say, placing your hands over his on your belly.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

the morning went differently than you’d expected. you can't stop smiling as you explain to your friends, nala and eliana, on facetime what happened. you’re getting ready for the dinner toji planned for the two of you.

“soooo what else did he get you?” eliana asks, eagerly.

you show them the jewelry, and they’re in awe.

“this is so cute! we have similar-,” nala exclaims, but you have to cut her off, saying you need to go because toji’s calling you.

you quickly grab a coat and slip on your heels, rushing out of your apartment. you hurry to the elevator and head to the front entrance, spotting toji texting on his phone while waiting in the car. as you open the door, he puts his phone down, giving you a loving look.

he pecks you on the lips, and you wish the kiss could linger. he reminds you that the reservation is soon.

as toji drives, he looks incredibly handsome. one hand grips the steering wheel while the other rests on your thigh, rubbing gently. you can’t help but smile.

“what’s got you all smiley, baby?” he asks, smirking as the car stops at a red light. the red light illuminates his face, making him look even more attractive.

“hmm, you just look so good,” you giggle. he leans in for a kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth. you both laugh as toji speeds off after the sound of angry honks from behind.

toji’s phone rings loudly with multiple texts. you try not to glance at his phone, but it’s clear someone’s upset based on the volume of messages.

“ah, the boys are just cheerin’ for us,” he says quickly, trying to distract you. “by the way, ya wouldn’ mind if i grab some drinks with them afterward?”

“i wouldn’t mind. i have to get up early for work tomorrow anyway. go have fun,” you encourage, though you’re a bit sad he won’t be there when you fall asleep. he kisses your hand and whispers, “i love you,” before you arrive at the restaurant.

toji helps you out of the car, taking your hand and opening the door. “ladies first,” he says with a smile, making you giggle. the restaurant is bustling, with chatter and soft music filling the air.

the host leads you to a ‘U’ booth where toji can’t take his eyes off you. he tells you to order whatever you like and not to worry about the cost, loving to see you happy.

dinner was amazing, with flavorful food and delicious desserts. afterward, you head home, feeling the food coma setting in.

as toji drops you off, you don’t realize you’re already home until he wakes you gently. he chuckles at your confusion and makes sure you’re fully awake before heading back to his car. you watch him speed off, wondering why he’s eager to see his friends.

you head to the elevator, annoyed by the music playing through the speaker. once you’re in your suite, you lock the door, toss your keys aside, and head to your room to remove your makeup and get ready for bed.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

you suddenly wake up in the middle of the night, glancing at the clock on your nightstand. it reads 3:27 a.m., and toji still isn’t home. worry gnaws at your stomach as you rub your eyes and reach for your phone. the brightness stings your eyes as you unlock it, about to call him, when you hear the front door unlock. quickly, you put your phone back and pretend to be asleep.

toji carefully opens the door to your shared room, plugs in his phone, and undresses, tossing his clothes into the laundry bin by the bathroom door. your side of the bed faces the bathroom, and you watch him hurriedly strip out of his clothes. he turns on the bathroom light and closes the door slowly, the light spilling onto the floor as you hear the shower start.

there’s no way.

no.

you don't want it to be true. could he possibly… you nearly gag at the thought of him cheating. you don’t want your suspicions to be true.

fuck it.

you carefully get up from bed and tiptoe to the laundry bin. there, you see the white collar shirt he wore on your date. your heart sinks when you see it smudged with lipstick. that was definitely not your shade. you bring the shirt to your nose and inhale a familiar female perfume. your hands shake as your worst fears start to come true.

but how can you be sure? there’s no physical proof of him with another woman. maybe wine spilled on his shirt at the bar. yes. you start to fill your brain with excuses, feeling slightly better at the thought of his clumsiness.

you rush back to bed and pull the covers over your body, facing toji’s side, trying to fall back asleep. the delusional thoughts comfort you, but just as you shut your eyes, his phone dings.

your eyes snap open, and you see his phone brightly illuminating the dark room. everything in you wants to check it. this could be the evidence you need to confirm whether he’s cheating or not.

you carefully move to his side of the bed and reach for his phone, your heart racing. you would die if he caught you.

you tap his phone, and the texts pop up.

oh.

you gulp hard, feeling a lump in your throat. your hands get sweaty, and you feel paralyzed.

nala ♡ - now

baby u get home yet? text me backkkk

nala ♡ - 1 minute ago

i alr miss u so fuckin much :(((

nala ♡ - 3 minutes ago

look how wet she still isss

[1 attachment image]

tears blur your vision as you place his phone back. he finishes his shower, and you turn away, silently crying into your pillow. you feel utterly betrayed by the man you thought loved you and by your best friend.

memories flood back of past relationships that were always shitty. they never treated you right, only used you, never wanting to know the real you. and the only person who was there for you through all your breakups and heartaches was nala.

but toji. as clich�� as it sounds, he was different than all your exes. he took the time to know you, made everything about you. and now, this.

the weight of betrayal crushes you, making it hard to breathe. you silently sob, feeling more alone than ever.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

your alarm blares loudly, but you just stare at the ceiling. you haven’t slept a single hour after what you witnessed. you hoped it was a nightmare, but sadly, it’s your reality. at 5 a.m., you informed your boss you wouldn’t be coming in because of an emergency.

you could fucking kill them both.

you glance at toji, deep in slumber, small snores escaping his mouth. cheating bastard, you think.

rising from bed, you grab his phone and send a text to nala.

come over in a few hours, i got the home to myself.

you place his phone down and turn to walk away, but her crazy ass responds within seconds.

nala ♡

of course ;)

while waiting for nala to arrive and toji to wake up, you prepare coffee and a nice hot breakfast. despite wanting to scream and cry, you want toji to think everything’s normal.

“smells good, baby,” his deep, raspy voice comes from behind you. perfect timing, you think. “you didn’t go to work today?” he asks as he walks closer. you turn around and fix him a plate. his face softens at your puffy eyes.

“sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he asks, cupping your face. you feel like crying into his arms, knowing he could make you feel better, but anger rushes in, knowing his betrayal. “allergies,” you coldly say, handing him the plate. he moves to the living room couch, already knowing you’re lying.

a loud knock echoes through the room. you smile internally, knowing nala is behind the door and toji has no idea. you walk to the door, preparing yourself not to cry in front of them.

“nala! what are you doing here?” you say, emphasizing her name. her smile drops to horror in a second. toji chokes on his food, trying to focus on the tv but failing. he turns and sees nala. their eyes widen as you stand there innocently.

“come in, i just made some breakfast,” you say, moving to welcome her inside. she stiffly walks in, eyes glued to toji. “i-i should really go, i-uhm,” she stutters, but you shut the door behind her.

nala awkwardly walks to the kitchen, on edge. you hand her a plate and tell her to join toji in the living room. she sits on the couch opposite him as you stand, watching their body language.

“how long,” you shakily say. your mini facade of being tough and clueless vanishes. nala fidgets badly, and toji stops chewing.

“w-what?” nala says, tears forming in her eyes.

“how long have you t-two been going behind my back?” you feel a harsh lump in your throat, telling yourself not to cry.

nala bursts into tears, continuously apologizing. she covers her face as toji sits stunned.

“how long, nala,” you shout, tears threatening to spill. you walk closer to her. she sobs uncontrollably as toji begins to ache for her.

“how long!”

“calm down,” toji says, moving to comfort her. your eyes twitch.

there’s no fucking way.

“are you serious? you fuck her once and now you forget who your girlfriend is?” you shakily say as nala cries more. “did all that planning for yesterday mean nothing to you?” tears fall down your cheeks. nala mumbles something you can’t catch.

“i-i planned it a-all for you,” she says. “‘m so sorry,” she pleads. everything was a lie. toji never loved you; he always loved nala. he didn’t even know it was your one-year anniversary until nala brought it up and begged her to plan everything.

“how long?” you plead, looking into toji’s eyes. he looks down, cradling nala.

“seven months,” he says. you and nala sob even more.

you feel weak as you nod at him, grabbing your phone and car keys. nala’s cries echo through your ears. you grab a jacket and slam the front door, crying your way to the elevator. your breathing quickens as you realize your entire relationship and friendship were lies. everyone probably knows, and you’re the last to find out.

what hurts even more is toji not comforting you. you’re supposed to be comforted, not her.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk fanfic #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #toji fushigro x reader #toji fluff #toji angst #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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helaenatargaryencore · 8 months ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧’𝐬 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞

𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐓𝐲𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:Aemond is not fully convinced of the wife chosen for him, he never had met her but once he does she becomes his weakness, his greatest love

Warnings:fluff ,mentions of smut, descriptions of pregnancy/childbirth, arranged marriage

Part two coming soon!

“The girl comes from house Tyrell, daughter of lord Tyrell” Alicent informed Aemond as he sat in front of the fire hearth in her chambers “you’ll like her I assure you, she likes to read, Learn about the histories, she does her best works in embroidery and music, she has a lovely voice I’ve heard, you will get along” she spewed some traits of the young girl but he continued to stare into the flickering flames of the hearth

“I am not Aegon mother I don’t need much convincing to do my duties” he finally spoke and she softly frowned, dinner was quiet as usual but not without a question from Helaena “what does Aemond’s betrothed look like?” She mindlessly asked “a beauty I hear, the people all over the realm say she is the most beautiful rose House Tyrell has ever bloomed” Alicent smiled at her daughter

And yet Aemond has his doubts, he was purely kind to all lady’s of the court because it was one of his many duties, but he knew beauty when he saw it, not that is mattered very much.

The day your carriage was to arrive he stood alongside his mother and his grandfather the hand to greet and welcome you, his father the king bedridden from his sickness, once you stepped out of the carriage his eye widened slightly by the sight of you

Your hair cascaded beautifully down your back and shoulders framing you beautiful face delicately, eyes shining brightly just as your soft kind smile, your dress beautiful embroidered with floral patterns and fine simple jewelry adorned you, his mother and all the realm was right, you were the most beautiful rose

You had curtsied gracefully “your Grace, my prince” you were well educated as well it seemed, “lady Y/n you are as beautiful as the people say” The queen was looking at you with approval and adoration, “My lady” Aemond’s voice was soft his rough hand holding yours to press a kiss to the back of your hand

“My prince” you smiled with a soft giggle making his heart flutter, that day you had dinned with the royal family and aside from Aegon’s very much disturbing presence all was well, as the days passed you and Aemond had stolen glances and small smiles as you’d pass in the training yard to see him wield his sword which he was very gifted at it made you blush

You found yourself reading the book of the seven, your mother was religious and as a form of respect you prayed and read the book very much to keep your faith, something the queen admired you for

Aemond found you sitting on the stone bench in the garden with the small book in hand, you looked heavenly and he got the courage to walk up to you, you had looked up and quickly scurried to your feet “My prince” you bowed your head “My lady please, no need for formalities, we shall be husband and wife, equals” he said and you blushed a bright pink as a soft smile found your lips “You honor me my prince” a small smile crept onto his face

“Aemond my lady, simply Aemond is fine” you couldn’t believe how kind the prince was, he was a dream really, you nodded chuckling happily “very well, you’re very kind” you giggled nervously making him chuckle “would you like to go on a walk my lady?” He asked and you nodded “Of course”

“My lady what do you enjoy to do?” He asked and you looked down at the cobblestone path your shoes clicked against “I do enjoy reading, especially about the histories, I enjoy needle work and dancing as well as music wether it be using an instrument or singing” you said “And you my pri-Aemond, what do you enjoy to do?” You corrected how you acknowledged him

“Well my lady I do enjoy reading as well, the histories of old Valyria are some of my favorites, and I am consumed with sword training and I seem to spend my days on dragon back” he said interlocking his arm with yours which made you smile, your cheeks red

“Vhagar, am I correct?” You asked softly and he proudly nodded “The largest dragon in the world, how admirable” you said and he chuckled “maybe one day you can meet her” he proposed and you shook your head softly with a sweet smile “what if she does not like me?” You asked

“Whoever I like, Vhagar likes, dragons feel their riders emotions, a dragon and it’s rider become one once bonded” he explained and you listened attentively “how interesting, well if you believe me worthy I would be honored to meet the great Vhagar”

He admired how you spoke freely yet respectfully, how you carried yourself. Soon you both took walks every evening, sat beside each other at all meals, sat in silence reading in the grand library of the keep, soon he snuck into your rooms at night to talk about your day, at times he would bring two lemon cakes for you both to enjoy, for the first time in his life Aemond would enjoy someone else’s presence, laugh until his belly hurts, smile widely and be in a great mood even towards Aegon and he tolerated his half sister and her children

You both shared a kiss for the first time under the gods wood, the night was dark but he snuck you from your rooms to have a few moments alone outside of the keep, the kiss was perfect, now you both have stolen kisses from one another, in the hall, empty rooms in the keep, behind the great shelves in the library, and even behind the tree’s in the garden

But only kisses, he would not tarnish your reputation before the wedding, he respected you greatly.

And not only did you form a wonderful relationship with Aemond, but you and Helaena became friends, you both spent hours in her chambers working on embroidery and gossiping, you would carefully hold the bugs she collects, they weren’t disgusting but small creatures which you respected and you both cared for her children, you and Alicent grew an adoration for one another, visiting the sept, praying together, walking along the gardens and keep, helping her and learning from her on how to run a castle, she considered you a daughter

You and the lord hand even have a mutual respect but you cannot say you liked him, and Aegon is passing by a hairline but he sometimes can be tolerable.

Your wedding dress was lovely, a beautiful white and gold gown made of the loveliest fabrics “You look beautiful, white suits you, like an angel” the queen smiled and Helaena grinned “it would look lovely with golden jewels as well sister” she added “I believe so as well, it is lovely your Grace” you giggled twirling around.

The wedding was beautiful, many lords and lady’s gathered in the dragon pit before a grand septon where you and Aemond married and declared your infinite love for one another, the celebration was huge, fine foods and deserts, everything was put together carefully and beautifully. The bedding ceremony was private thanks to the queen, only you and Aemond

It was great, oddly even after your septa told you how painful it would be, it was anything but, he had done things that weren’t taught to you or explained but you both became one that night just you two.

Soon during breaking fast smells would make you dizzy and sick, Helaena came to you smiling and holding your hands in hers “oh you are going to be so much like me yet so different, I shall find you two beautiful eggs from dreamfyre!” She was giddy and you smiled confused

Soon however a maester confirmed that you were with child, you rushed out to the training yard where Aemond was, he stopped his training before walking close to you, before he could get a word out you blurted the news with a bright smile your cheeks got sore, he never had been as happy as that day

He had your maids and ladies in waiting attend to you as if he ran an army of soldiers to war, he had your suppers made to your liking, made sure you had enough rest and you did nothing to hurt you or the babe, “My lady it seems that with the size of your belly and by my recorded documents you are with two babes” the maester mentioned and you looked at him as if he had two heads as did Aemond

“Good gods” you whispered placing a hand on your belly.

Helaena had spoke to you about her experience, “no need to fret sister, the pain in unbearable I will not lie but” she sighed putting her embroidery work down looking at the twins and Maelor playing at her feet, she grew a lovely smile on her lips “when you hold your babes it’s like there’s no better feeling in the world, so much love overcomes you” you smiled rubbing your swollen belly happily

However Helaena was not mistaken, the birth was terrible, your screams and cries were heard all over the keep as Aemond paced right outside the chamber doors, “Aemond you must stay calm, she is a strong girl she will be fine and the babes as well” Alicent tried to soothe her son to the best of her abilities, you were in labor for a long while and still not a babe had decided to present themselves

“I see the head!” A voice yelled and then again you were coached to push harder, until, the loudest cry you had ever heard rang in your ears making you cry yourself, a sigh escaped your lips while a maid took your babe in a white blanket and the pain spurred once more, “my lady push the second is always the easiest!” Your midwife did her best to encourage you

After more painful pushes you heard another loud yet beautiful cry, you felt relief as you laughed gloriously seeing the maester hold your second and last babe in his arms “a girl” he said, “a girl as well my lady” the midwife held your other daughter “healthy?” You asked out of breath “As healthy as can be” your midwife smiled happily passing you both your babies

They were perfect, absolutely perfect.

“They’re absolutely gorgeous” Alicent looked at her granddaughters “yes, but do not forget my lady a boy shall follow, the prince still needs his heir” Otto mentioned and you looked down softly but Aemond kissed the side of your head “I am perfectly happy with my daughters, as my father made my elder sister his heir I can always do the same” he said holding his beloved Aelora, Aelys and Aelora, the names you and Aemond chose “I brought them gifts!” Helaena gleamed and she held two dragon eggs, a light green egg for Aelora and a dark red egg for Aelys

Soon you both ended up with only two more children, another daughter and lastly a son, Naerys and Aemon, finally Aemond got what he wanted, happiness.

A/n: Omg so I had lots of fun writing this and I just thought to give poor Aemond some happiness lol, But I do hope whoever read my little oneshot enjoyed it and helped you escape mentally for a little bit 💗Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated but not required just as long as you enjoy! 💗💗💗

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #oneshot #alicent hightower #helaena targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd

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rose24207 · 10 days ago

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Christmas shopping

Summary: Lando carefully shops for thoughtful Christmas gifts for his girlfriend in Monaco, gracefully handling paparazzi attention as he envisions her joy on Christmas morning.

Genre: fluff, Christmas

TW: a little short

A/N: Love the idea!! Thank you again for requesting!! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

The streets of Monaco were alive with the festive spirit. Twinkling fairy lights adorned every tree, and the scent of roasted chestnuts filled the crisp December air. Lando Norris adjusted the collar of his jacket, a content smile playing on his lips as he weaved through the bustling shopping district.

Christmas shopping for his girlfriend had become a tradition he cherished. This year, he had outdone himself, meticulously planning every gift to perfection. He wanted to spoil her, to see her face light up when she unwrapped each present.

First, he stopped at her favorite boutique, a small but luxurious shop tucked away on a quiet street. He spent nearly an hour there, picking out a cashmere scarf in her favorite color and a matching pair of gloves.

From there, he ventured into a high-end jewelry store. He had her tastes memorized by now—elegant but understated. After careful deliberation, he chose a delicate gold bracelet with tiny diamond accents.

Finally, he stopped by a bookstore. It wasn’t just about luxury; Lando knew how much she loved curling up with a good book. He picked out a limited edition of her favorite author’s latest novel and had it gift-wrapped in festive paper.

As he walked back to his car, his arms laden with shopping bags, the familiar click of cameras reached his ears. He glanced up, spotting a cluster of paparazzi stationed near the entrance to the parking lot.

Monaco was no stranger to celebrities, and as one of the most recognizable faces in Formula 1, Lando had long grown used to the attention. But today, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the spectacle they were making of his Christmas errands.

One paparazzo called out, “Lando! Is all that for your girlfriend?”

He grinned but didn’t respond, choosing instead to load the gifts into the trunk of his sleek McLaren. As he arranged the bags carefully, he could hear more questions being shouted:

“What did you get her?”

“Do you think she’ll like it?”

“Any plans to propose?”

Lando smirked at the last one, shaking his head slightly. The cameras continued to flash as he closed the trunk and made his way to the driver’s seat. Before slipping into the car, he gave the crowd a cheeky wave.

Driving home, Lando felt a sense of accomplishment. He imagined her reaction as she unwrapped each carefully chosen gift, the way her eyes would sparkle and her laughter would fill the room.

Parking in the underground garage of their Monaco apartment, he unloaded the bags with care, already envisioning how he’d arrange them under the tree.

Christmas with her was his favorite time of year, and no matter how many cameras followed him or questions were shouted his way, nothing could overshadow the joy of making her happy.

This Christmas was going to be perfect.

Thank you for reading!

#lando norris #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando x you #f1 #fluff #christmas #merry christmas

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nyctoaerah · 8 months ago

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𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

“𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐔𝐒

╰┈➤𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒: You found yourself stripped of your immortality, a punishment for daring to flout the edicts laid down by your father. Your transgressions? Two-fold. First, the grave sin of disobedience, and Secondly, the cardinal offense of falling irrevocably in love with your Lady in waiting. In your father’s eyes, the sanctity of your divinity was tarnished by a same-gender relationship, a concept that he vehemently repudiated as aberrant and abhorrent. Such unforgivable love, he pontificated, dulled your goddess-like essence. Thus he used his powers and casted you adrift into a parallel universe suffused with curses and sorcerers whose love aren't really the healthy type of love, a punishment to show you that ‘Love’ isn’t all about sunshine and rainbows.

╰┈➤𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Homophobia, Gore, Abuse, Mentions of Abortion, Slow Burn Yandere, Love Percentage Au.

╰┈➤𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere! Jjk x Fem! Isekai’d! Goddess Reader.

╰┈➤𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Shoko Ieri, Yuki Tsukumo, Kento Nanami, Utahime Iori, Choso, Toji Fushiguro, Sukuna Ryomen.

╰┈➤𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: the jjk stuff will start at chapter two, since chapter one is just more like a prologue or something, and chapter one is more like an explanation of the reader’s backstory and how she ended up in the jjk world. Make sure to read the info at the end!! Hearts and Reblogs are greatly appreciated<3. Also posted on Quotev and Wattpad.

╰┈➤𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 7161 words.

╰┈➤𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

╰┈➤𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

LEISURELY AND GRACEFULLY STROLLING along the intricately designed and curving hallways of your grand fortress, the melodic echo of each step you took resonated harmoniously in the peaceful atmosphere, while the touch of your heels met the gleaming crystal ground beneath you, causing your very own image to disperse and reflect through the pristine transparency of the exquisite material.

The chandelier hanging above emitted a light gleam, resembling the vibrant shade of crimson red, while the light bathed the corridors in a delicate crimson glow, illuminating the exquisitely detailed drawings adorning the fortress walls, and suspended in mid-air was a red colored crystals, floating on the air, their movements seemingly autonomous.

As you took each step, your hair swayed and bounced in synchrony, its lustrous strands reflecting beams of the crimson light of the chandeliers. The delicate pearls and intricate jewelry that adorned your figure jiggled with every move you make, However, as you strode forward, your attention was suddenly drawn when a voice spoke.

“Lady [Name],”

A soft and melodic voice, seemingly hollow yet penetrating, reached your ears.The words flowed from their lips with a delicate sweetness. You turned and spun around, the tinkling sound of your jewelry resonating through the momentary silence.

Meeting the gaze of the caller, whose eyes resembled the depths of the ocean, the caller’s eyes reflected adoration, their pupils dilated, and so did your own.

And your solemn expression transformed into a beam.

“Ataraxia!”

“Mhm, it’s me, princess,”

Ataraxia offered a subtle nod and bowed before you. A smile graced her succulent lips, Her sleek black tresses cascaded down her neck as she lowered her head, revealing the intricate crystal blue and golden jewelry that adorned her neck and collarbone.

Your excitement over seeing her was palpable, evident by the rapid clicking of your heels against the crystalline ground. It almost seemed as though the force of your footsteps could shatter the delicate surface, yet somehow it held strong. Without hesitation, you enveloped her in a tight embrace, drawing your bodies close together.

As the warmth of your hug enveloped her, ataraxia couldn't help but release a soft, joyful giggle. She couldn't help but wonder why you were particularly affectionate today, as you weren't usually so physically demonstrative. Typically, you were filled with boundless energy, though your quirks occasionally teetered on the edge of eccentricity.

However, she understood that being unconventional and weird was simply a part of who you were—and she loved you for who you are. It didn't bother her, especially considering the fact that you had lived a sheltered life within your own empire, with minimal interaction aside from the servants and your father.

“Missed you so much, ‘raxia, haven’t seen you in days..” you murmured, burying your nose into the delicate nook of her neck, your warm breath ghosting over her skin.

Ataraxia reciprocated your sentiment, her voice just above a whisper, “I missed you more.”

Her azure eyes darted around the area, on the lookout for any prying eyes. The relief that washed over her when she realized they were alone was almost palpable.

“We should probably find a more private place, yeah?” Ataraxia gently suggested, pulling away slightly from your embrace, head tilting to the side inquisitively and pretty ocean blue eyes observing the confused look on your face.

“It’s improper for us to show such affection in public, where prying eyes are everywhere.” She explained gently.

“We musn’t indulge in it, do you not agree, sinta?”

Ataraxia inquired, observing the subtle movement of your eyebrow and the way your smile abruptly transitioned into a frown.

“Right..” you acknowledged, releasing a sigh filled with disappointment.

She raised one eyebrow in curiosity at your reaction, her fingertips firmly holding onto your chin as she observed the subtle movement of your hyoid bone with every breath you exhaled.

“Are you mad?”

She queried gently, the hues of her bright blue eyes delving into the depths of your own [E/c] orbs in search of a response, pondering if her words had caused you offense. Releasing your chin, she shifted closer to you, leaning in as her lips hovered just above yours.

“Don’t be.” Her words were barely audible as you released a sigh, moving your face closer to the curve of her neck, taking in the fragrant aroma of jasmine that surrounded her like a cloak.

“I’m not, don’t fret,” you assured,.

Upon hearing your reassurance that you are not upset, she visibly relaxed, you could see the faint movement of the muscles on her neck relax from its previous tense state, and it made you smile as you pulled away.

“I’ll never get mad at you, you’re my world after all... My soul.” You said with a closed eyed smile.

“I know, but i can’t shake this nagging doubt that perhaps you are teetering on the precipice of anger...” Ataraxia revealed, her lips contorting into a pout that stirred a quizzical arch of your eyebrow, followed by a chuckle that bubbled up from within your throat, finding her cute.

“Not mad, m’love. ‘just realized that you’re right” you murmured tenderly, taking her hand and pressing a reverent kiss upon it.

“Are you certain, love? I harbor no desire for a rift to fester between us,”

With a decisive nod, you assured her,

“Beyond doubt, my dear.”

A warm smile enveloped your features as you tenderly placed a hand upon her shoulder, guiding her with deliberate care towards the shared sanctuary of your quarters.

Throughout the whole walk, you were silent as the realization of ataraxia’s words set in—that displaying affection in public was not an option for several reasons.

Firstly, your father held homophobia and despised homosexuality. Secondly, your relationship with Ataraxia remained clandestine. Thirdly, homosexuality was considered a significant taboo in your world, as men were presumed solely for women, and vice versa. The idea of men loving men or women loving women romantically was shunned and a taboo.

And yet, that was precisely what you were engaged in—a same gender relationship. Furthermore, there was the final obstacle of being in a relationship with a servant.

Ataraxia, much like yourself, was a goddess, but her family had assigned her as your lady-in-waiting. From the time you were on the brink of adolescence, Ataraxia had been faithfully by your side. Despite the societal constraints, both of you had developed a deep affection for one another.

Because How could you not? You cherished the way Ataraxia provided guidance on various matters, the way she imparted knowledge, the way she described the world beyond your secluded existence dictated by your father's iron fist, her personality is pleasant and Her physical appearance was an added bonus, as she was undeniably beautiful.

Conversely, Ataraxia adored your lively spirit, a stark contrast to her own calm demeanor. However, as they say, opposites do really attract. In addition to that, the contrast between you and other members of royalty is remarkable. They communicate in a regal manner, exuding power and elegance, while you express yourself with a delicate, sweet, and casual tone, yet you still manage to uphold an air of grace, thus you stand apart from them as someone who remains untainted, despite being influenced by your own father's manipulation and brainwashing during your upbringing.

But therein lay the predicament. Regardless of the depths of your love for one another, being together was an impossibility as long as the absurd laws outlawing homosexuality lingered and your tyrannical father reigned.

If it were ever discovered that the two of you engaged in a romantic relationship, severe consequences awaited. While you were willing to take the risk, Ataraxia hesitated. She feared that her family would suffer the wrath of your father alongside you, and you couldn't blame her for feeling that way. After all, your father was known for his merciless nature.

Your father, he who rules the universe, Aionarch, held the esteemed title of the ruler of all gods, and the god of eternity, reigning over both the realm of the living and the deceased. As a primordial god and the creator of the world, he was extremely powerful and was immensely respected and fear, and under normal circumstances, you would have taken great pride in being his offspring, but Alas, his despicable personality and tyranny had tarnished any sense of admiration you could have harbored for him.

As a goddess and his child, you inherited certain powers from him, such as the ability to shape-shift and communicate with animals and the dead. However, your primary abilities consisted of pyrokinesis and cryokinesis.

Nevertheless, you had yet to fully master your cryokinetic powers, leaving you reliant on your pyrokinetic abilities, which proved to be relatively simple to wield. Regrettably, you had only primarily employed these powers for mundane tasks, such as culinary preparations, and never in a battle, because your father would get mad in seeing your precious and delicate skin get ‘tarnished’, or as he claims.

Although you possessed a retinue of servants, your father, Aionarch, insisted on teaching you the culinary arts, proper etiquette, and other artsy stuff, deeming them necessary for a goddess like yourself, solely because of your gender. This notion infuriated you, as his misogynistic, homophobic, manipulative, and overall abusive behavior had become all too familiar.

Throughout your entire existence, you had been confined within your father's realm, only interacting with him, the other divine servants, who comprised both goddesses and gods, fairies, arcanittes, cheirovile, and a small number of demigod slaves.

As the gods forbade any interaction with humans, as they considered such relationships repugnant, since mortals could never be on par with divine beings, thus, only divine beings could reproduce with each other, and Consequently, anyone who dared to engage in a romantic relationship with a human faced severe punishment and their offspring, if any, were promptly reduced to the status of slaves—The demigods.

You empathized deeply with these unfortunate slaves, as a single misstep could result in unimaginable torment. They were not treated as individuals but rather as subhuman creatures, subjected to degrading treatment and regarded as mere training dummies, an object at that. An object that is to be degraded and to be destroyed.

You vividly recalled your father urging you not to extend pity to these individuals, asserting that they deserved the divine punishment, for disobeying the ridiculous rules he had made, thus, he insists that they brought forth the misfortune that has bestowed upon them.

Divine punishment, or as people calls it.

Divine punishment was the worst punishment anyone could ever suffer. According to him, anyone who dared to defy him would suffer his wrath and endure divine retribution.

Another thing, is that divine punishment was not the typical disciplinary measure—where people would go to jail or get whipped 30 times. it was absolutely more brutal than that.

Every single day, those condemned to such a fate endured relentless torture, both day and night, for all eternity. Moreover, anyone who extended a helping hand to those subjected to divine punishment would inevitably share the same fate.

And the punishment, wasn't very pleasant, and you know it too well.

Because you had experienced it too, albeit, a less worse than the others, because you had attempted to alleviate the suffering of one of these tormented souls. Fortunately, your father's retribution towards you was not as severe as that inflicted upon the other nefar.

Nonetheless, the dreadful experience left behind a permanent scar on your back, each stroke of the whip searing through your flesh and delving into your inner muscles, striking your spine repeatedly till it shatters and your divine powers would work to heal the wounds and prevent you from dying, but albeit, it was all useless, because they wouldn't stop until Aionarch had deemed that you had been disciplined enough.

It gets even worse than that. Not only were they subjecting you to painful whippings, but they were also adding fucking salts into your wounds. These salts would seep into your open flesh, penetrating deep into your inner muscles, causing them to contract and intensify your pain.

The irritation they caused your muscles was unbearable, inflicting excruciating pain upon you. Furthermore, they haphazardly sliced off two of your fingers and thrusted a sword infused with acid into your skull. They even twisted it, resulting in a sickening squelching sound that merged with the painful thwacks of the whip striking your back.

However, amidst this horrifying ordeal, there was a slight glimmer of mercy. Fortunately, the torment inflicted upon you lasted only for a duration of two hours. This was due to the benevolent intervention of your father, who, in his somewhat twisted display of kindness, believed that you had been adequately disciplined. Consequently, he saw fit for you to embody the qualities of a true goddess rather than resemble a pitiful princess who defies her father's commands.

However, it may come as a surprise to many individuals as to why you would assist one of those individuals who had endured the consequences of divine punishment, ultimately resulting in your own torture.

The individual you extended your help to happened to be Xeranthi, your biological mother.

Similar to you, your mother possessed the abilities of a goddess and could manipulate both flowers and light. Xeranthi, just like you, was a victim of aionarch. Despite her tragic circumstances, Xeranthi exuded a sense of sweetness, gentleness, and care towards others.

Her inherently cheerful and lively nature captivated the hearts of numerous individuals who admired her exceptional beauty and heavenly demeanor. Moreover, her pleasant personality added to her allure and charm. She had been living a blissful life, filled with contentment and satisfaction, until aionarch abruptly entered the scene, shattering her tranquility as he forcefully snatched her away from her freedom, coercing her into an unwilling marriage.

After aionarch had taken advantage of her, she eventually ended up having you, and she held a profound hatred towards you because you were never intended to exist. You were the unwanted consequence of her pain and suffering; you embodied the repercussions. It was unsettling for Xeranthi to see that you inherited your father’s [E/c] eyes and even his features, which evoked a shiver of unease within her.

The expectation was for her to despise you, but how could she? The moment you entered the world and locked eyes with her, your innocent and doe-like gaze instantly melted her heart. The way you giggled and radiated sweetness towards her was something she didn't experience with aionarch, and it brought her immense joy. Xeranthi was grateful that you didn't grow up to resemble aionarch; she found solace in the fact that you were different.

Xeranthi made a brave attempt to protect you from the harm caused by your father. She desperately sought to remove you from that dangerous environment when you were about sixteen years old. Being your loving mother, Xeranthi could not bear to witness you enduring the same suffering she went through.

Tragically, her plan was foiled and she faced severe consequences, as she was accused of kidnapping the cherished daughter of aionarch, which was you.

This divine punishment was imposed upon her due to her audacious act, and you tried to help her but ended up getting harmed too.

Suddenly, Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a thunderous, resonant voice that belonged to aionarch, causing your stomach to instantly sink with trepidation. The chamber, otherwise deserted, seemed to reverberate with your father's commanding tone, making your heart race and threaten to burst from your ribcage.

“Fair maiden, come to my chambers. We shall discuss matters of utmost importance. Do not dawdle, for my patience is dwindling”

Ataraxia's face displayed concern as her brows knitted together, and you could see the tension in her clenched jaw, a clear sign that she was worried for your wellbeing.

“Have you done something wrong?” she asked, her concern evident. You shook your head in response, assuring her that you were innocent.

“No”

”Do you think he knows?” she asked with a breathy voice, her worried eyes searching yours as she grasped your hand in hers, seeking comfort and support. Trying to dispel her fears, you spoke,

“I highly doubt it,” you replied, trying to ease her concerns

“Perhaps he wants me to do something or maybe i fucked up another etiquette lessons again ”

Frustration laced your words as you almost snarled, punctuating your frustration with vulgar language.

“He’s so fucking—”

Ataraxia gasped at your choice of words, immediately tightening her grip on your hand, her pointed nails inadvertently pressing pressure and piercing your flesh to abruptly halt your speech.

“Please refrain from using such vulgar language! It is improper,” she chastised you, causing you to wince as your wounded hand began to heal naturally, your anger still simmering beneath the surface.

“You and your overly strict morals,” you grumbled, Criticizing her for her perceived excessive moral standards and observing as your skin regenerated and the blood disappeared.

“It's not strict; it's simply adhering to basic societal norms,” Ataraxia retorted, releasing your hand.

“Whatever,” you muttered dismissively.

"You will face consequences for your behavior. Acting un-princess-like is unacceptable," Ataraxia murmured, prompting you to raise an eyebrow.

“Is 'un-princess-like' even a word?” you pondered, realizing that you had never come across it before.

“Whether it's a real word or not, you will be punished,” Ataraxia brushed off your question, causing you to groan.

“Punishment here, punishment there, punishment everywhere,” you grumbled, feeling overwhelmed by the constant discipline, because this is seemingly like an endless cycle of retribution.

“Yes, exactly,” Ataraxia agreed.

“I'll be fine,” you muttered, noticing the tension in her body language. Leaning closer to her, you pressed your lips against hers in a tender kiss.

“Promise me,” Ataraxia pulled away from the kiss and gazed into your eyes, seeking reassurance.

“I promise, cross my heart and hope to die, i take an oath by my father's name.” you vowed, placing your index finger over your heart and making a cross-like motion.

“But then, if i don't come back unscathed, that wouldn't be a problem, for i would die for you.”

You said with a smile.

“You’re making it sound like you’re gonna die...” Ataraxia murmured, feeling a sense of foreboding creeping over her.

She surely hoped that you’ll be okay.

After all, she knows how cruel aionarch is.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

As you entered your father's chambers, a wave of coldness washed over you, causing the breath you're exhaling through your mouth to visibly frost in the air and come out as puff of breaths.

The red lights overhead flickered intermittently, casting an eerie crimson glow throughout the room. With cautious steps, you walked on the crystal floor, the sound of your heels clicking on the ground echoing in the otherwise silent chamber. As each footfall connected with the crystal, it began to emit a soft, illuminating glow, mirroring the radiance of the chandeliers. Shadows twisted and danced on the walls as you continued forward.

With a mixture of reverence and trepidation, you knelt down on one knee, dipping your head low as a sign of respect.

“Dearest ethereal Father,” you whispered, the words barely audible in the stillness of the room. It felt as if the entire atmosphere held its breath, waiting for your next move.

“I have come as you beckoned,” you spoke, maintaining your lowered position and avoiding raising your head. The delicate fabric of your dress brushed against the floor, its threads resembling the softness of fine wool.

“Rise, fair daughter.” commanded your father, his voice deep and resonant, carrying an air of authority that never failed to send shivers down your spine. Slowly, you stood up, straightening your posture with great care. You lifted your chin high and puffed out your chest, mindful not to display any sign of weakness or disobedience. Back then, your father had chastised you for slouching, claiming it was unbecoming of a goddess like yourself. The memory lingered in your mind, a constant reminder of the expectations placed upon you and you couldn't help but feel bitter.

Such expectations on you was placed upon your shoulders ever since you were a child.

“Thank you, father,” you responded, feeling a twinge of discomfort in your voice. At this moment, all you wished for was to be safely nestled in the arms of ataraxia, far away from the intense presence of your father. But alas, you remained in aionarch's chambers, bound by duty and obligation.

“Did I grant you permission to speak?”

You were overcome with a sense of dread as a chilling sensation coursed through your veins, causing goosebumps to erupt on your skin. This unsettling feeling made your hand involuntarily twitch, and in response, you clenched your fists tightly, causing your nails to dig into the soft flesh of your palms.

“No, you did not, i apologize” you mutter, the words escaping your trembling lips, you quickly lowered your head in a submissive gesture, attempting to apologize for your foolishness, because that's what Aionarch liked—Submission and control.

“Please find it in your heart to forgive your poor daughter's indiscretion,”

You fought the urge to wince, the words just felt so fake coming out of your mouth.

Your heart raced in your chest, and your throat felt constricted as your father finally revealed himself before you. His imposing figure towered over you with an astonishing height of 370 cm, a mere glimpse of his human form or whatever. In contrast, you stood at a mere 7'9 feet tall, making you feel incredibly small and insignificant.

His hair, was heterochromic colored, the other one was white as freshly fallen snow and the other one was as black as an obsidian, it flowed down his broad shoulders like a cascading waterfall. It had a softness akin to the finest wool, and intricate carvings in the form of letters adorned his face. Some of these carvings bore the words "eternal" and "death," among others. His eyes shared the same [E/c] shade as yours, but his sclera were as black as the endless void. His skin was pale and delicate like a lily, accentuated his succulent lips and well-shaped nose and Overall, his physical appearance was undeniably attractive.

His long, slender fingers gently combed through your [H/c] hair and a shiver ran down your spine, sending a tingling and an unpleasant sensation in your body. His fingers effortlessly weaved through your locks, leaving a trail that felt as smooth as fine sand. Despite feeling discomforted by his touch, you kept your head bowed low, acquiescing to whatever he wants to do, but admist it all, you knew that there was a patronizing quality to his touch that unsettled you to your core.

“Tell me, my dearest daughter,” Aionarch whispered, his voice as cool and calming as the night breeze by the sea.

“What do i hate the most?”

His question made you shift uneasily, even as you maintained your low posture. It struck you as odd that he would ask such a question when he already knew the answer himself.

“Disobedience and disloyalty,” you answered with a tightly pressed line of lips, aware of the consequences your response might bring.

But still, curiosity sparks within you—why is he asking you that?

“Very well, my dear,” Aionarch murmured approvingly, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

“And what did you do? haisayu?” he suddenly inquired, causing a sickening feeling to churn in your stomach. The intensity of his presence grew, and it felt as though he controlled your very breath, taking away your autonomy. It was as if his penetrating gaze could pierce through your flesh and bone, causing the wind to howl loudly and the ground to shake in response. It was clear that he was enraged, but the reason remained unknown to you.

Your brows drew together.

It was a vague question coming from your father, however, a feeling of foreboding formed a pit in your stomach.

What have you done?

“What have I done...?” you repeated, perplexed, only to let out a choked yelp as his fingers tightened their grip on your hair. His sharp, black nails dug into your scalp, causing pain to shoot through your head as he forced your gaze upward, meeting his intense stare.

“You have disobeyed,” he growled, his teeth grinding together in the dim light. The pressure of his fingers against your skull intensified, causing the pain to escalate without piercing through. As blood trickled down your face, you could feel his fury boiling over.

“You dare have the temerity to use my name in an oath?” Aionarch exclaimed, his grip on your head tightening, his sharp nails penetrating your skin, causing more blood to trickle down your face.

“And to compound your audacity, you have committed a forbidden sin. You have allowed yourself to become infatuated with a servant, no less, and a woman at that!” he spat, his voice dripping with contempt. When you had sworn your oath in his name, he had overheard it and began piecing together the puzzle, realizing the romantic relationship you had with your lady-in-waiting—Ataraxia.

“How dare you love that woman?” he snarled, his anger palpable.

Your eyes widened in realization and your heart sank to the pit of your stomach as you comprehended your grave error. You had indeed taken an oath for Ataraxia, using Aionarch's name.

Undoubtedly, this was the gravest mistake of your life. You had truly fucked up, and the weight of that realization sent a shiver of fear down your spine.

Make a move. Something whispered in you.

Don’t be scared of him. All the whispers insisted, and you slowly found yourself getting agitated.

Why are you so scared of him? Fight back. You told yourself, trying to stop yourself from shaking.

Stop shaking. Damn it You grit your teeth.

Fight back.

He thinks that your love with ataraxia is nothing but a nuisance

You felt your fingers curl instinctively into your palms, the bones of your knuckles pressing harshly against your strained skin until it became bloodless. The heat of his grip sank deeper, an branding iron searing your flesh.

You wanted to retaliate, your body just wouldn’t move.

You searched internally for memories, recollections, anything within that could fuel your want for vendetta. But none came, no ember of indignation could be fanned into flame.

That was, until a single word passed his lips—a phrase so caustic it ignited a fuse that had run its entire length within you.

“I suppose that i should just get rid of that woman, so that your puppy love will finally dissipate. Such audacity you have.... how dare you?”

How dare he judge your love, your heart, as if it were a mere plaything to be discarded at his whim?

You took a deep breath, staring back at him defiantly.

“I dare to love because love knows no bounds, father,”

“Yes, i dare, i do love her, very much so,” You declared, causing him to halt in his tracks, his gaze fixated on you with a mix of shock and revulsion. His fingers remained firmly entrenched in your skull, a lingering reminder of his hold over you.

“And it’s not puppy love it’s true love— Ack!”

You yelped when his fingers dug deeper.

“You forget your place, daughter. You are bound by the laws of our kind, and your dalliance with a woman is a betrayal of everything we stand for.”

A hiss of pain escapes your lips as you scowled.

“And what of your dalliances, father? Are they not equally condemned by your own laws?” you shot back.

“Do not force my hand, [Name].” He warned. His fingers penetrated your skull, reaching deep into your brain, specifically targeting your cerebrum. With a firm grip, his fingers curled upwards towards your frontal lobe and you winced—he was probably searching for your memories.

“What has that woman fed my daughter?”

Aionarch muttered curses under his breath as he tried to search your brain for any recollection of the witchcraft that ataraxia may have used on you. However, all he could see were images of laughter, giggles, kissing, and just straight up a cliche love story.

This sight caused him to recoil in shock and disgust, as he never expected to witness his daughter engaging in such actions with another woman. His teeth clenched, his eyes widened, and his blood boiled with anger at the disturbing scene before him.

Despite his intense feelings of rage, the only thing that prevented Aionarch from killing you right here and then in that moment was the fact that you were his own flesh and blood and his only child. He struggled to control his impulses, torn between his paternal instincts and his moral beliefs.

In response to Aionarch practically twisting some parts of your brain you clenched your own teeth and glared back defiantly.

“Have you satisfied your curiosity now?” you spat.

“This is pure love, father.” you asserted, refusing to apologize for your feelings or actions. Your words only served to further enrage Aionarch, who struggled to come to terms with the reality of the situation.

“And father, do stop the hate on homosexuality. There is absolutely nothing wrong with loving the same gender,” you firmly stated. However, this declaration triggered a strong reaction from Aionarch, testing his patience to its limits. In an instant, your head violently exploded, causing your skull to shatter into pieces and your brains to be scattered on the ground. The ground beneath Aionarch became tainted with the ichor color of your flowing blood.

Filled with anger and frustration, Aionarch’s words escaped his mouth like a venomous serpent.

“How dare you, you insolent brat, challenge me with your disobedience?” he spat out with an intense rage burning in his eyes.

Despite the horrific ordeal you had just experienced, your body began to regenerate. As this process unfolded, your eyes transformed from their usual [E/c] hue to a shade of fiery red. Your teeth clenched tightly smeared with blood, and determination etched across your face as your head slowly but surely regenerated itself, healing from the violent outburst.

“Loving someone of the same gender is perfectly acceptable,” you proclaimed.

“Loving that abhorrent and wretched goddess, is absolutely repulsive.” Aionarch uttered with disdain towards you, causing you to slowly lift your head in a tremulous manner. Anger filled your wide eyes, and the tension caused a blood vessel in your eye to pop, leaving a gold trail and tainting the whites with an eerie hue of ichor.

“She’s not.”

“Don’t you fucking dare call my ataraxia wretched.” You seethed, your divine powers manifesting as the room’s temperature surged, as if engulfed in a raging inferno. In an instant, the very room was consumed by flames, with all objects in Aionarch’s chambers reduced to ashes but neither of you were affected nor perturbed by the scorching heat.

“I love ataraxia with all of my being, and not even you, could change that.” As you raised your hand, a blazing fireball materialized and swiftly hurled towards him.

“You and your disgusting puppy love.”

With ease, Aionarch evaded the attack effortlessly. Meanwhile, your scythe began to take shape in the air, crafted entirely of fire, its burning flames dancing. Firmly gripping the weapon, you charged towards Aionarch, who simultaneously summoned his halberd.

“You’re really trying to anger me, huh?”

“I’m only fighting you for her.” you spat.

“Besides, you’re already angry.”

“Such a funny little girl you are, haisayu.”

The clash of your scythe’s blade against his halberd reverberated through the air, showcasing his superiority in strength with a simple exertion of pressure.

Refusing to succumb to the overwhelming force, you valiantly pushed forward, releasing your grip on the scythe’s handle with one hand and launching fireballs at him using your free hand, Your muscles strained against the relentless pressure, the sounds of crackling flames and clashing metal echoing through the air.

Without any concern for his clothes catching fire, he charged forward. In a swift motion, his hand swooped towards you, but you crouched down, however, he brought the blade southwards too, slashing your shoulder, causing you to emit a pained hiss and stumble backward.

It hurts.

His attack burns.

you instinctively evaded when he aimed directly for your heel—the area you knew was your weakest point.

Reacting swiftly, you made a counter attack and tried to slash at his stomach, but he managed to evade the attack. Undeterred, you continued your assault, each swing of your weapon leaving a trail of blazing fire.

“You’re really serious on insisting in being with that wretched woman...”

“I admire your dedication. Very well, daughter. Since you had taken an oath that you would die for her, then death shall you suffer.”

Suddenly, he raised his hand and conjured a massive sphere composed of eerie shadows, resembling dangerous spikes. Your eyes widened. What the hell are those?

In an instant, the shadowy projectiles began to fall from above, relentlessly targeting their intended victims. Unfortunately, one of these malevolent spikes found its mark, plunging into your head. It seemed as if the spike possessed a life of its own, resembling a leech as it descended deeper.

To prevent the shadowy intruder from reaching your weakest spot, you made a decisive choice and severed your own head.

Your head exploded in an instant one it was severed and you continued the fight using your body, relying on your regenerative abilities to regrow your severed head. With your fists clenched, an immense ring of fire erupted and surged towards the direction of Aionarch. Observing this unexpected move, a subtle furrow appeared on his brow, marking the first sign of his reaction in this battle.

“I see, so you have mastered your pyrokinesis.”

Aionarch lifted his halberd to block the attack.

However, the circular blaze abruptly transformed into a crescent-shaped assault, catching Aionarch off guard, and he narrowly evaded the attack.

“I have,” You answered, coughing up ichor, Exploiting his momentary vulnerability, you pressed forward, striking at him. But he jumped out of harm's way, frustrating your attempts. Undeterred, you launched a series of attacks, but with a swift kick, he sent you hurtling through the air, crashing violently into the wall. The impact was so forceful that it left a conspicuous dent in its wake.

As you let out a painful groan, drops of ichor blood cascaded onto your face. Slowly, you managed to rise to your feet, but without warning, a strange sensation enveloped your entire body, rendering you completely immobile. It felt as though invisible strings had been attached to you, preventing any movement.

“What the—”

Desperately, you attempted to use your fire to burn away the unseen restraints, but to no avail. The relentless grip of the strings refused to loosen.

Aionarch, his voice filled with a mix of acknowledgment and disdain, remarked,

“You have undeniably grown stronger, evident from what I see.”

However, any sense of forgiveness was absent from his next words, delivered with a sneering tone.

“But do not mistake this for absolution. Your disobedience and futile attempt to challenge me will be met with divine retribution.”

In that moment, an excruciating pain surged through your body, causing your organs to rupture and spilling your ichor blood, marking your bones with its stain. Coughing up this blood, you watched helplessly as it tainted the ground beneath you.

“How foolish of you to think that you could kill me, you really do amuse me, haisayu.”

you watched as his hand rose, summoning a multitude of dark shadows that snaked their way towards you, ensnaring you in their tight grip. The tendrils of darkness then began to sink their teeth into your delicate skin, causing you to grunt and grit your teeth in pain. The excruciating pain coursing through your body from your internal organs being torn apart was already unbearable, but the slow devouring of your flesh by these parasitic shadows only intensified your suffering.

As if that wasn't enough, he conjured sharp needles in his hand and hurled them towards you, leaving you helpless to evade their assault. The needles found their mark, penetrating your vulnerable body with an added venomous sting.

“You’ve done a great job trying to anger me, and you have succeed. Good job.”

he says snarkily, a crooked smirk made its way to your lips.

“It’s my pleasure to achieve something that most people didn’t managed to do so.”

You were playing with fire, and you knew it, but you don’t regret anything, you don’t regret fighting for ataraxia.

Aionarch fixed you with an icy stare, his irises contracting into narrow slits as he considered your folly. Amusement curled his lips at your brazen insolence, though beneath simmered calculation as he pondered a retribution befitting your arrogance.

Upon souring your memories, he discerned your quixotic view of love as all sunshine and rainbows, an exempt from the muck and mire of reality. A sibilant sigh escaped him then, ivory lashes shutting and veiling his eyes.

“You’re about to find out what it’s like to survive without your ataraxia” Aionarch murmured, his wicked words sending a chill down your spine. Instantly, a surge of fear washed over you, causing your face to lose its color and drain of life.

“Let’s see if you can survive as a non divine entity on another world where humans are preyed on.”

Defying the torment and defiling your pain, you mustered every ounce of strength to retort,

“Don’t you dare...” Despite the searing agony racking your body, your voice resonated with a fierce determination. However, your defiance was met with a cruel response from the malevolent being before you, as your hand was brutally severed by the ravenous shadows, and it refused to regenerate because of the venom inside you.

“IF YOU DARE TOUCH ATARAXIA, I’M GONNA KIll YOU!”

Your outburst were mixed with other voices, as if it's not you speaking, which made a laugh to bubble on Aionarch's throat.

“What a funny excuse of a daughter i have,”

“Death won’t suffice as your punishment, i suppose...”

He smirked.

“Since you think that love is such a very beautiful thing... let us see how you like it to receive too much love..”

With a grin spreading across his face, Aionarch raised his hand once again, causing your eyes to widen in terror. A circular formation of vibrant yellow light materialized and hurtled towards you, engulfing your entire being within its luminous embrace.

You suddenly become ensnared with the swirling yellow light that your father had conjured. You felt the light constricting around you, threatening to suffocate you.

And suddenly, you found yourself completely immersed in an endless sea of vibrant and dazzling yellow shades, each one radiating and shimmering before your very eyes, almost as bright as the intense ultraviolet rays emitted by the scorching sun.

The intense golden radiance fiercely impacted your skin tone, resulting in your flesh blazing with an indistinguishable fire, as if it were being consumed by an invisible inferno.

Simultaneously, the luminosity clung to you, pulsating around your physique like a relentless parasite, greedily devouring every ounce of your life force. Your glowing complexion broke open as a result of the burns, resulting in a forceful surge of blood that flowed out intensively. This spectacle filled the air with a fascinating combination of unpleasant yet strangely captivating smell, which could only be connected to the heavenly essence of your richly ichor flow of blood.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𑁍ࠬܓ━━𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

AIONARCH

𝟎𝟎𝟏.His name means controller of eternity.

𝟎𝟎𝟐.Aionarch is the god of eternity, life, death, rebirth, darkness, light and many more.

𝟎𝟎𝟑. He is the progenitor of the universe and he’s super possessive of Xeranthi and [Name].

𝟎𝟎𝟒.He’s homophobic and misogynistic. Since he's the first being to ever exist, he’s the ruler of the world and everyone bows before him.

𝟎𝟎𝟓.He also has access to the multiverse and overall an OP character. He had a sibling though, a twin sister.

𝟎𝟎𝟔. In the fight, aionarch was just playing with [Name], because in reality, [Name] could never land a hit on him, no matter what the situation is.

XERANTHI

𝟎𝟎𝟏.Her name means withered flower.

𝟎𝟎𝟐.Xeranthi is the goddess of flowers and light, and she’s actually aionarch’s grandchild, aionarch’s twin sister bore some children, and has tons of them that reproduced and bam, there’s Xeranthi. cause yk? Almost all of mythology gods had incest on them, like greek, where hera and zeus are siblings or in norse, like literally, incest is normal if it’s in the gods.

ATARAXIA

𝟎𝟎𝟏.Her name means a state of serene calmness.

𝟎𝟎𝟐.Ataraxia is [Name]’s lover, and she’s the goddess of rivers and ice! She’s also [Name]’s lady in waiting.

𝟎𝟎𝟑. She was the one who managed to knock some sense in [Name]’s brain, since [Name] was brainwashed by aionarch back then.

𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒:

𝟎𝟎𝟏.Cryokinesis.

𝟎𝟎𝟐.Pyrokinesis

𝟎𝟎𝟑.Shapeshifting

𝟎𝟎𝟒.Mimicry

𝟎𝟎𝟓.Achilles’ Heel.

𝐅𝐔𝐍 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓:

𝟎𝟎𝟏.The reader’s strongest ability is mimicry and shapeshift, as she has the capability to replicate virtually anything; with mastery of this ability, she could imitate absolutely anything. If she were to transform into another individual and had already mastered her mimicry, she would acquire that person's abilities.

𝟎𝟎𝟐. [Name] had a twin present during xeranthi’s gestation, yet xeranthi, in her typical fashion, ripped the twin out of her womb. Unbeknownst to xeranthi, [Name] was still in her womb and was born unintentionally.

𝟎𝟎𝟑. Ataraxia created life likes ice replicates of [Name], which are capable of performing tasks such as household chores under her control. [Name] has them situated in her room, where she diligently trains them to attack aionarch, mirroring the way Xeranthi taught her vines to do the same.

𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐒.

𝟎𝟎𝟏.Sinta

It’s a Filipino word that means darling/love.

𝟎𝟎𝟐. Haisayu

It means beloved daughter, it’s a patronizing term.

211 notes · View notes

jenchan-writingmultis · 7 months ago

Text

Twisted Wonderland Boys x Fem Reader in their respective Fairytales (Series)

(Kalim's Part)

Previous part (Azul)

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A/n: I forgot to add Vil omg, I'll write about him along with Malleus, I just wanted this out cause I enjoyed writing this so much, and I couldn't wait to post it! I hope you all like it! Kalim here is based on the Sultan in Aladdin so not the villain, but I didn't want to leave him out. Content Warning: This Fic will be tagged as 16+ since it is a bit suggestive along with mentions of Gorey themes (Azul), it’s very vague. I haven’t finished Book 6 and Book 7 because I’m stuck in Tartarus, but they’re not done here yet. Potential Inaccuracy in Indian Tradition, Indian and Greek clothing, if ever you see inaccuracy about it, please let me know, I only did a bit of research about it. The reason for potential OOC was cause I mixed both the classic Villains with the personalities of our beloved boys. You have a child with Kalim here!

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First Batch would be: Riddle, Leona, Azul

Second Batch would be: Kalim, Idia, Malleus

List of Villains interconnecting with each character:

Kalim = The sultan Idia = Hades

─────❅───── Kalim: You didn’t know why you were sitting down on an extravagant throne, a dozen of people looking upfront and bowing to your presence when you awoke, feeling a gentle touch on your face, you stirred up from your slumber, looking at your side. Seeing Kalim in the flesh except, he looked more mature than your Kalim.

“My love are you feeling alright?” he traces his fingers lightly on your cheeks, careful not to smudge the makeup you were wearing, you didn’t pull away, but you kept staring at him, admiring his adorning features, earrings twinkling under the light, showing real gold on it, Kamar bands knotted gracefully around him, he looked the same except he seemed more kingly than your little boyfriend.

“Kalim?” you murmured, moving your hand, wanting to touch his hand which he took notice before smiling, he traced his fingers on yours. “You fell asleep during our daughter’s birthday” he clarified, suddenly confused why you looked surprised.

“Daughter?” you asked, the sari that adorned your figure, jewelry around your clothing as you stood up, hands squeezing a bit of your flesh in attempts to keep yourself calm in a stressful situation, Kalim took notice as he stood up with you, placing his hand on your waist and drawing you closer. "Ladies and gentlemen," he captured the attention of each guest, you two look like the perfect couple in each of family member there, "my wife seems to be feeling a bit under the weather. Please continue to enjoy the party! we'll be back shortly. “With that, he signaled the band to start playing music.

“My love, what’s wrong?” he asked gently, letting you go as you looked at him, you were confused and lost, where are you? Why do you have a daughter, wait YOUR daughter with Kalim right?

“Kalim” you fidget a bit, “Are we married?” you ask, your fingernails look really tempting to bite right now.

"Of course," he said almost immediately. "We got married on your 20th birthday." Cupping your cheeks, he pulled you closer and gave you a gentle kiss. “Our daughter will get candidates from different families, you arranged it a few hours ago” he continued, when you kissed him back he felt relieved, you’ve been acting weird ever since you woke up from your sudden nap.

“I…” Feeling conflicted, Kalim couldn’t help but worry, He pulled away giving you a bit of space “If you want, we can cancel the candidates for now,” while that was frowned upon due to the disrespect, he’s not the one to force your kid with him to marry, although he would be happy if she found a lover and get married.

You had an inkling of what happened, vaguely remembering that potion you and Deuce created and exploded on your face, with the timeline, your first guess was it was the future, but you were younger/older than he indicated.

“We can take a break and rest,” Kalim kissed your hand, “I don’t want the guests to see you in such a state,”

Despite this Kalim potentially not being your Kalim, he was sweet. In your real world, he could be overbearing at times, but he always tried to improve and not treat you like a servant. This older version of Kalim seemed to have successfully overcome that habit, putting your needs first before his own desires.

"I’m fine” You showed a bit of affection by kissing his cheek, which made his heart beat faster, it was a gesture you often do with him that got him all flustered. “We should go back, I don’t want our daughter to feel abandoned there,” you said jokingly, making Kalim chuckle.

“She’s doing great honestly, she got your face and my personality” referencing to his extrovertedness when he was younger, and he still is, just more tamed.

You wouldn’t mind this dream of yours, after all, Kalim was still the same, the only downside was the sudden shove from being a commoner to a Rani, but it was a change you’re willing to adjust for… till you get back to your world, hopefully.

(Idia's Part) ─────❅───── A/n: here you go! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა @wisteriarose214

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #kalim x mc #kalim al asim #twst kalim #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #kalim x reader #fluff

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yandere-sins · 8 months ago

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Yan-Poll #12

[Mermay Special Part 2 a/n This is an interactive story, your choice continues it, so choose wisely!]

"No, we are not! What are you saying?!"

Confused and appalled by your friend's statement, you flinched as they swam closer, placed their arm around your waist, and pulled you towards them. You were about to push them away when the room suddenly burst into loud, merry laughter. It was both a symphony and a cacophony, catching you off-guard and only allowing your friend to press you against them more. And still shaken with surprise, you clung to them.

As frustrating as it was, they were still the safe anchor in all of this, even though you had doubts about how safe they truly were.

"Well, this is great!" the king, your friend's father, cheered, swimming down from his throne and right up to you, giving you a big hug. "We are so glad our little guppy found his mate!"

You wanted to protest, but his arms around you were so tight that you were scared they'd smash you if you said anything wrong. When you were finally released, you noticed that all of the mermaids had come closer, even the queen, who remained silent. Most were patting your friend on the back, telling them, "Well done!" and you felt some of the merfolks' hands gliding through your hair and touching your hands or shoulders in fleeting motions. It was unbearable.

Perhaps through your closeness or the way your breathing turned into gasps, gills flaring, your friend noticed the tension shaking through you, gracefully commanding the attention of everyone as they announced, "It's been quite a day of travel to come here. I think we'll retreat for today but thank you all so much for the kind welcome!"

Everyone seemed to buy the excuse your friend was dishing to them. You looked into many warm and kind eyes, giving you only a tiny bit of solace, but it didn't matter right then. All that mattered was your friend guiding you away, pulling you through the water when the tension made it too hard to focus on using your own tail. It wasn't until the door to your room was shut behind you that you felt like you could breathe again, and the mood shifted from panic to anger.

"What was that?! Why did you lie and say we are in love and marrying soon?!"

Your apparent anger fell on deaf ears when your friend simply cocked his head in confusion, unsure how to reply to your accusations. Sighing, you shook your head, feeling a huge headache spread as you rubbed your temples; your attention suddenly diverted to the jewelry on your wrists, countless beaded bracelets and golden hoops now adorning you, and even around your shoulders were strings of pearls, and intricately made necklaces. They were all in places you had been touched before but you hadn't noticed. Immediately, the confusion returned to you, your emotions being thrown for a loop that day.

"I never said we were," he finally replied, swimming down to where you sat on the sandy floor of the room and cupping your cheek. "We're friends, right? I just wanted to make you feel more comfortable and less out of place. That's why I told my family we are best friends."

"No, I heard it. You said we are in love, and your father asked about my intentions to marry you! I'm sure about it!"

They chuckled, adorable dimples forming on their face, and seemingly completely relaxed even when you felt quite the opposite. "Were you that nervous? Our language does sound a little different than yours. Maybe you misinterpreted it?"

There was no getting through to your friend, who kept denying what you heard! That and the headache made you feel miserable, and you barely listened as your friend babbled on. "I want to go home," you mumbled, exhaustion washing over you.

"Oh, I know a place! It's great for sunbathing, and everyone there enjoys the waves rushing around them! We should go and check it out!"

It was so hard to follow your friend's words, but that wasn't at all what you wanted. You wanted to go home! Or at least... rest. This had all been too much for you, and the headache was tiring you out. But should you really rest in this unfamiliar place? Home was just a portal jump away, should you insist on leaving?

A hand fell into your vision, outstretched and inviting. Your friend was smiling down at you, entirely at peace, even though your inner conflict raked at your nerves. Their shoulders were relaxed, expression kind and compassionate as they looked at the sorry state you were in.

"I should really go home," you mumbled and they gave you an understanding nod.

"Right away. We'll check out the sunspot, and then we'll go home, I promise. It's not far, I'll guide you."

Their hand popped up again, inviting you to take it, although you were conflicted about what to do. You wanted to insist on leaving now, but they also promised to take you home afterward. It could be the little adventure in this supernatural world that you could tell your future children. You took a deep breath through your gills, bracing yourself, the headache subsiding a little as you gathered all your strength.

(Reasoning and discussions welcome! ♥)

#yan-poll #mermay 2024 #mermay #yandere talk #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW

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merylstreepsworld · 1 year ago

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The Necklace

Pairing: Miranda Priestly x Reader

Summary: You are infatuated with Miranda's necklace... and for good reason

Word Count: 462

In the intimate moments you shared with Miranda Priestly, her sense of style was as alluring as her commanding presence. She often wore low V-necklines that left little to the imagination, paired with exquisite, low-hanging necklaces that framed her décolletage. It was a combination that drew your eyes like a moth to a flame, and you couldn't resist the temptation to touch and play with the necklace that nestled between her breasts.

One evening, as you both lounged in her luxurious townhouse. Miranda was engrossed in a flurry of emails on her tablet, seemingly managing the entire fashion world from the comfort of her luxurious sofa. Her choice of attire was particularly captivating. Her V-neckline plunged gracefully, showcasing her elegant collarbones and a tantalizing hint of cleavage. The delicate necklace, adorned with a shimmering pendant, hung enticingly between her breasts.

You watched as she effortlessly juggled her responsibilities, her fingers dancing across the touchscreen with precision. The soft glow from the tablet cast an ethereal light on her features, accentuating her magnetic presence.

Unable to resist, you reached out and gently brushed your fingertips against the necklace, letting the cool metal caress your skin. Miranda's gaze never left the tablet, but her lips curled into a knowing smile, a subtle acknowledgment of your actions.

"Darling," she purred in her sultry tone, "Do you have an obsession with my necklace, or is it the territory it resides in that intrigues you so?"

Your cheeks flushed as her teasing words washed over you, and you replied with a playful smirk, "Perhaps it's both, Miranda. Your choice of jewelry is impeccable, but I can't deny the allure of what's beneath it." Miranda's laughter, like a fine wine, filled the room. Her fingers finally pausing on the tablet, she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, "I find your fascination quite amusing, my dear. But you know, if you just wanted to touch near my breasts, you could simply ask." Your heart raced at her suggestion, and your fingers danced along the necklace once more, unable to resist the temptation. "Maybe I enjoy the element of surprise," you replied with a sly grin.

Miranda's eyes sparkled with desire as she captured your lips in a passionate kiss, her dominance and sensuality igniting a fire within you. The necklace between her breasts became a symbol of your shared desire and the playful teasing that only deepened your connection.

In those intimate moments, Miranda's style and your playful touches became a tantalizing dance, a testament to the passion and allure that bound you together. It was a love story where desire and teasing were woven into the very fabric of your relationship, creating an unbreakable bond between you and the formidable Miranda Priestly.

#meryl streep #merylstreep #meryl streep x reader #miranda priestly #the devil wears prada #miranda priestly x reader #Miranda Priestly oneshots

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candylandphotos · 1 year ago

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Dark skinned Sudanese African American beauty fashion jewelry model ❤️

"Radiating Beauty and Elegance: Embracing the Dark-Skinned Sudanese African American Model's Allure with Fashion and Jewelry ❤️✨"

#Melanin-rich allure #Ethnic beauty representation #Cultural heritage diversity #Sudanese fashion icon #African American elegance #Jewelry-adorned beauty #Radiant skin tones #Empowering fashion statement #Inclusive modeling #Authentic portrayal #Model's natural beauty #Dark skin positivity #Beauty in ethnic diversity #Fashion-forward individuality #Adorning jewelry gracefully #pretty girl #beautiful women #pretty woman

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elegantsplendour · 1 year ago

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Love is a Downfall Part II

Masterlist Part I

Summary

One girl, two dragons.

Bound to one, attached to an another.

Love is the most powerful form of magic.

Love is the fuel that leads to destruction.

Fear leads of anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x !Redwyne reader x Aegon ii Targaryen

Warnings / contains (in this part): fluff, angst, smut, dirty talk

Tag list: @marvelescvpe @snh96 @femmechaotic @heavenly1927

Friends: @purple-writer8 @vhagarswar @lovelykhaleesiii @boundlessfantasy @arcielee @amiraisgoingthruit @kaelatargaryen

“My Queen.”

She turned around and smiled at his approaching figure, slender and statuesque. It was rare for her prince to be dressed in such opulence, in the colour of his house, instead of his usual black leather suit, the attire of the protector.

She closed her eyes as his arms wrapped around her petite waist, restrained by the agonizingly exquisite wedding gown, adorned by jewelry and fine silk with a weight of its own. Aemond pressed a delicate kiss on the petal-like skin of her neck, a realm he had explored and worshipped boundless times, yet that kiss seemed like a sorrowful goodbye.

In two short hours, she would drift two gigantic steps away from him.

His brother’s wife.

The Queen of Seven Kingdoms.

“I love you,” the grip of his skin on hers grew tighter, Aemond savoured the touch of her body, a reminder that she was real and with him. The weeks of anticipation, whispers of joy among both the highborn and commoners around the city, and excessive spending on opulent goods appeared to the One-Eyed Prince like a cruel and ironic preparation of his own funeral, a mocking celebration of his own inescapable fate.

The second prince.

The second choice.

Always and forever.

But not to her.

“I know,” she leaned into his kiss, arching her neck backwards, locking eyes with her sweet prince, “I love you too,” she whispered with adoration while kissing his thin lips with a passion like the candles in the Grand Sept of her soon to be wedding. While the realm followed the Faith of the Seven, Aemond Targaryen was her faith, her dreams, her beyond.

As the hour of the royal union approached with an agonizing pace, the prince departed his lips from hers and extended his arms, “Shall we?”

She gracefully held onto his arms and nodded, “We shall.”

Just as the two were about to exit her chamber, she ceased their advance, “Aemond,” she reached to touch his cheek, “Nothing changes. We’ll still be together, the two of us. Just like what we three promised a fortnight ago.”

He smiled faintly, “I know,” pressing one last kiss on her lips, “My Queen, but it doesn’t make it hurt less.”

Her hands on his cheekbones quivered at his admission, with a pearl streaming down her left eye.

Aemond enclosed their distance, kissing away and savouring her bittersweet tear, “Don’t cry,” his long fingers stroked her meticulously braided hair, “It would ruin your regal appearance.”

“I don’t care about my regal appearance,” her breaths quickened with sobs, “I care about you.”

“But he does.”

“Aegon? Not in a million years,” she chuckled yet choked with emotions, “He cares not if I was embellished like a gigantic doll or drunken after a night of indulgence. He knows every inch of me.”

She bit her tongue and clenched her fists in regret as she caught a glimpse of the heartache in Aemond’s eye.

“I am glad,” he smiled with melancholy, “That he can give you what I cannot. Don’t apologize for it, my love.”

Every fibre in his being screamed:

If only.

If only it had been him born on the same day as her and not Aegon.

A moment later, the crowd of lords and ladies, including Queen Alicent herself, cheered as Prince Aemond escorted Lady Redwyne, the queen to be crowned, to the carriage.

The way to the Dragonpit was quiet for her. However, Alicent recounted relentlessly her overwhelming memories of Aegon and her youth, how he became more responsible for her, how they were meant for each other, and how glad and proud she was of herself succeeding in to marry children for love.

“Thank you, mother. I love you,” she smiled.

It was the first time she had called Alicent that name.

“What did you call me, child?” Alicent’s voice quivered.

She placed her hand on top of the queen’s, “Just the figure you’ve always been to me,’ she squeezed her hand, declaring genuinely, “I mean it, Mother.”

She gazed into the woman she grew to love with a slight giggle as she realized that Alicent was overwhelmed by emotions and was finding the right words to say.

“You know,” Alicent spoke with a light chortle, “Rhaenyra had never forgiven Erya for leaving you to my care. And it’s part of the reason why things between our houses turned out the way they did.”

She frowned momentarily, a distaste rising in her stomach at the name of the woman who had asked for her and Aemond’s torture, “Rhaenyra and my mother were close?”

Alicent nodded hesitantly, “More than close, we three shared a…” She lowered her head with a bitter smile, “Special connection. Especially Rhaenyra and Erya. Of course, that was before duty to our houses tore us to different paths.”

Alicent squeezed her hand with a rare display of authentic contentment, “Which is why you and Aegon…” the queen wiped away her tears of excitement, “You know, my dear child, I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, but building a union for my children built on love… it’s the greatest thing I’ve accomplished.”

Alicent reached out her arms and held her in an embrace, sharing her daughter’s bliss and rejoicing in the fruit of her decisions that led to this day.

As the carriage reached Dragonpit, the mass awaited with anticipation as the dutiful, regal and commanding figure of Prince Aemond awaited for the bride.

“My queen,” he nodded courteously, yet his tone devoid of emotions, avoiding her eyes, “The king awaits.”

With a refined smile, she held her head high and held onto the prince’s extending arm.

Awe was painted on the assemblage, royalty, nobility, and even the commoners.

Aemond counted a hundred steps and fifty-three steps from the gate of the Dragonpit, crossing the path carved out by the solemn ceremonial guards, to the podium of the dome, to Aegon’s side.

The escort of the future queen was a great honour. Every pace he took symbolized the distance between himself and everything he desired, power, glory, recognition, legacy, her. Yet, the tormenting reminder was an unprecedented honour, a very one that his brother granted.

“My king,” Aemond lowered his head cordially as he gave her hand to the king-to-be.

She looked at Aegon with a mixture of pride, trust and love.

“What, my sweet love?” Aegon whispered in her ears as he led her to kneel beside him, awaiting the coronation, with a teasing chuckle, “Too smitten by how handsome I look today?”

She rolled her eyes, containing her laughter with efforts and whispered back, “Even being the king can’t make you less insufferable, but your appearance does tempt me to bite you tonight.”

Ser Cole and Otto Hightower frowned deeply at the playful exchange between the king and queen-to-be, yet the dowager queen seemed to be amused.

Within minutes, the Conqueror’s Crown was placed on Aegon while a platinum crown forged by the rarest of silver and diamond landed on her.

“All hail His Grace, Aegon, Second of His Name, King of the Andals, Rhoynars and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.”

“My king, my queen,” Ser Cole bowed, followed by the rest of the court and eventually, the rest of the mass.

As the cheering and applause gradually erupted among the commoners, the king and queen of the Seven Kingdoms raised in all of their might and glory. Blackfyre, the legendary Valyrian sword of the Conqueror, now was now drawn by his descendant’s hand, conveying the unquestionable order of succession.

With a gasp from the highborn, a few commoners threw joyfully bouquets into the king and queen’s hands.

She giggled uncontrollably and exulted in the sweet scent of the flowers, for it represented the genuine love from the people they have sworn to protect on govern.

The courtiers exchanged amused whispers at the scene, for the mass’ reaction wasn’t entirely surprising. The tales of the rebellious young prince and his beautiful and destined betrothed were etched in the memories of the old and the youth.

Suddenly, her vision swirled as Aegon pulled her into a breathless kiss, a bold testament to their union.

While the Septons and maesters looked at each widened eyes of disapproval and astonishment. Roars of cheers thundered in the Dragonpit.

She returned with an equal fever. Her hands pulling her king so close as if their bodies melted together.

At that moment, no one else existed, not the judging eyes of the Seven, not the courtiers, not even Aemond, just her and her husband, the person she mumbled her first word to, cuddled within the nursery, stole lemon cakes from the kitchen, cried and bullied together in the garden, blushed for the first time and explored the realm of pleasure together.

The king held her tighter, his tongue still dancing, exploring the depth of her mouth. The ebony of the Conqueror’s Crown and the silvery white diamond tiara glimmered through the solemnity.

All eyes but one mesmerized the scene that would later unfold into a fabled tale. Aemond fixated his gaze on the gray walls of the Dragonpit and relived the bitter memories of the mockery of lack of dragon he had endured in the hands of his brother and nephews.

But above all, the memories of her, the enlightening memories of her smile, the touch of her hands as she whispered her faith in his strength, the conviction in her voice when she encouraged him to claim Vhagar.

A part of her is his, his only; Aemond repeated it repeatedly like a spell of a curse that plagued his mind as he forced himself to meet the reality, her bond with his brother that he would never share.

The rest of the day ended in exhaustion for the entire royal family, especially the royal couple. As everyone in court had anticipated, the bedding ceremony was out of the question. Despite whispers of the young king’s liking for thrill being no secret, his taste could never extend at the well-being of his “sweet love.” Not to mention the intimidating presence of Prince Aemond, the protective brotherly figure (as everyone presumed) threatened to murder any person who dared speak such a proposal.

As the final toast to the royal couple came to an end. The room yelped as the queen fell into the king’s arms. It must have been the effect of wine. Everyone murmured.

The guests looked at each other with surprise as they saw Prince Aemond’s calmness at the scene. Little did they know that it was because the prince knew his brother and his queen to the core…

“They’re all gone?” She whispered mischievously in Aegon’s chest as he carried her supposedly drunken body through the halls of the Red Keep to their marital chamber.

“Gone like how your annoying gown will be in minutes,” Aegon grinned as he practically ran into their freshly decorated wedding chamber.

She hopped off her husband’s arms and buried her face in the bed, “Finally…” she nestled in the softness of the pillows as she gazed at Aegon, amused and desiring, “This is perfect.”

He chuckled and joined her instantly by jumping on the bed and tickling her sides, making her laugh and protest.

“Stop it! I’m serious!” She playfully bit his arm, writhing in his embrace.

“Ouch, my sweet,” Aegon whined teasingly while sinking his lips in the fragile skin of her neck, “You really were serious about biting me earlier today, huh?”

Giggling tantalizingly, she rolled herself on top of him as swiftly as a viper, “Just make me yours already.”

“Gods,” the beast under her groaned as he sat up to undo her intricate laces, “But you have already been mine,” he smirked, “Over and over again.”

“Just rip it off,” she pouted impatiently.

With a growl, he tore the exquisite wedding gown off her body and feasted on her skin ferociously.

“I feel as if being strangled by that stupid dress,” she gasped for air as she wrapped her arms around Aegon and dragged him down on top of her.

They looked at each other deeply in silence for a moment.

They are husband and wife.

They’ve known that this moment had been their destiny since they came into the world together.

“Lord husband,” she purred, tracing her fingers on his chubby yet devilishly handsome cheek.

“Seven Hells,” Aegon grumbled as he felt his bulge growing hard in his trousers, “You’ll be the death of me, my sweet lady wife.”

“What?!” She gasped as Aegon lift her up to sit on his thighs.

“Ride me, little one,” the king bit her earlobe while caressing the scar on her thigh.

With a frown, she unbuckled his pants with her inexperienced hands and pouted, “You lazy dragon. It is your wedding night and you leave all the work to your lady wife.”

As soon she saw the smug and satisfied look on her husband’s face, the way he laid indolently on his arms behind his head, her breath hitched with annoyance and desire, “What would all the court think if they knew? That the queen has to take matters into her own hands to make an heir?”

Fuck that smirk on his face.

She cursed.

Aegon chuckled as she placed his hands on her round cheeks of her bottom, her body arched and leaned down, an obvious feigned innocence painted on face.

“If you cannot fulfill your marital duty, your grace, I would have to seek help from Prince Aemond,” she whispered, her words chosen very intentionally, “Since his cock works much more ferociously than yours.”

Oh those words awoke the dragon…

“On your hands and knees,” Aegon flipped her down on her stomach, watching his little creature obey his command with unconfined giggles.

“That’s more like it,” she purred while arching her back, tempting the most powerful man of Westeros, “I hear this is how they take whores on the Street of Silk,” she grinned looking back at him, wriggling her hips, in invitation, “Aegon, are you going to treat me like a whore?”

With a deep chuckle, the king delivered a form smack on her backside, “Yes, I am,” his hands gripped her hips tightly, pressing his hard length against her before thrusting into her roughly, “I will treat you like the most desirable whore in all of Westeros.”

She pushed back eagerly to meet his every stroke, occasionally looking back at him with teasing and provocative eyes, perfectly aware of their effect on the beast pounding into her.

“Spoiled little queen, always asking for punishment,” Aegon growled, thrusting hard and spanking her sharply as she tormented him again with her pretense of naivety, “But your king will spoil you rotten just like you deserve.”

“Yes… Spoil… me,” she moaned loudly in gasping breaths.

He hovered over her back and stuffed a pillow under her stomach, “Tell me what you feel, my sweet. Tell me everything.”

She couldn’t answer but moan at the exquisite sensation he was delivering, “Gods… I see Seven Heavens. You… you are so big.”

He grinned and met her hips with his with more force, “And your little cunny is doing so well, so good, tightening around for my cock.”

She whined at his crude language. Clenching onto the sheets, she responded in equal obscenity, “I love the sound of you slamming into me.”

Breath hitched. He took a strand of her hair and pulled it back with just the right amount of force, exposing her porcelain neck.

“Are you sure you’re not the one slamming into me right now, hmm?” He whispered wickedly, his hand still tangling in her hair, “So desperate. So eager to be pleased, so eager to please.”

She couldn’t do anything but to moan at her husband’s teasing met with the sinful slapping of their skins. Biting her lips almost violently, she demanded, “Harder, faster. Give me all of you,” she tilted her head back playfully, “I dare you.”

His immediate response was wordless.

Another sharp smack on her bottom before pulling her hips up and digging his fingers into her flesh once more, “Oh I will. I am going to fuck you until you can’t think straight,” he squeezed her backside, “My spoiled, sweet little brat.”

For what endured like an eternity, they were lost in each other.

Each moan, thrust and growl exacerbated the mind-blowing waves of pleasure washing them over and over again.

Finally, Aegon spilled inside her as she screamed his name.

“I love you, my sweet love,” Aegon whispered with adoration as he immediately pulled her into his arms, his arms enveloping her steadily.

She smiled and instinctively longed to return the affection.

Yet the words were choked in her throat.

I love you.

The words from the thin lips of her prince spread in her heart like a sweet poison.

She loved Aegon.

She loved both.

Why?

Then why was it so hard to say it back?

“I love you too,” she bit her lips and nestled in her husband’s chest.

It was an answer from the mind yet not from the heart.

Her hands clenched around the skin of Aegon’s chest while a drop of bitter and confusing liquid formed in her eyes.

Aegon, seemed to have noticed the storm within her, but her earlobe and asked, “Are you thinking of him?”

She nestled closer to his neck and whimpered, “He’s not like us. He’s hurting.”

Aegon sighed as he caressed her cheeks, “I know. He’s my little brother. I hate to see him suffer.”

She wiped away her tears and gazed into his eyes, “I just wish he could be happy with our arrangement,” she squeezed her eyes again and sobbed, “I just want him to be happy.”

“My sweet,” Aegon spoke again with a heavy heart after a moment of silence, “There is something you need to know.”

“A moon ago, Aemond asked me to send him to fight the recent Dornish invasions,” Aegon confessed, holding her hand tightly, “He specifically asked me hold his request from you.”

“Does…” her lips trembled with hurt, “The idea of seeing us together truly pains him so much that he would rather fight a war and risk his life?”

“No,” Aegon patted her shoulders with assurance, “A part of it, perhaps. But, you know Aemond, he wants to leave a legacy.”

She opened her mouth to speak, the shock evident in her voice, “He… He wishes to be the one who conquers Dorne.”

She grasped the truth nervously.

Vhagar… Visenya…

Of course.

Aemond desired more than what he was handed to him.

He will never be satisfied.

He would not be himself without his thirst for the world.

“I guess if we truly love someone,” she smiled faintly, “We accept and embrace who they are.”

“When is he leaving?” She asked softly.

Aegon hesitated before answering, “In three days.”

She buried her face in her hands before jumping off the bed and directing to the window, bathing her her body under the moonlight.

The world seemed to shake as the news sank in her heart. That familiar yet distant burning and aching sensation consumed her again, like the night he had claimed Vhagar.

She had never told anyone about it, not even Aemond himself.

She held her hand against her heart, as the mere possibility of losing him, or even a new scar etching on his skin incited a sharp pain in her spirit as if a merciless falcon was feasting on her body.

“He is the rider of the largest dragon in the world,” Aegon’s voice slowly soothed her anxiety as he wrapped his arms around her waist, “And soon, he will be the wielder of Dark Sister,” his lips teased her cheek, “News from Dragonstone have it that our old uncle has been infested with a mysterious contagious disease. He won’t have long.”

The corners of her lips rose slightly at the news of the Rogue Prince’s soon demise, “That’s good to hear…”

She turned to face the loving face of her king again and smiled, “Let’s go to sleep. Everything can wait til morrow.”

With that, she led her husband into the bed and fell into a deep slumber.

Although the worries, confusion and longing still flawed her heart, Aegon’s arms, the embrace of the man was a part of her, always had the inexplicably magical effect of soothing the deepest of her turmoils.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Your Graces,” Aemond nodded coolly at the freshly attired and newly wed, royal couple.

Without reservation, she embraced him boldly, ignorant of the widened eyes of the passing servants.

She whispered, “If you ever call me ‘your grace’ again in private, I swear I will scream.”

The prince couldn’t help but to chuckle at her comment while the king smirked in approval.

“I’ve heard that you intend to ride to suppress the Dornish assaults on the borders,” she gripped Aemond’s cold hand, the desperation in her voice well concealed, “I simply hoped you did not feel the obligation to keep it from me. I would stand by you through anything, you know that.”

Aemond shivered at her touch.

She knows.

Selfless she had always been.

He could see in her eyes the depth of her anguish.

I will stand by you through anything.

He chose his path of legacy over her, over being there for the birth of her first child, his brother’s child.

Once he embarks on this journey, he shall not return for a year.

“Pardon me, your grace,” he addressed Aegon, avoiding her gaze and stepping away from both of them hastily.

Three.

Two.

One.

Since that abrupt meeting the morning of post the wedding night, Aemond was nowhere to be found except in the war council.

It was the night before his departure, the hour of the eel.

The queen stood still before the massive balcony of her private chamber. It was the first night Aegon and she had spent separately.

She never had to explain herself.

Aegon knew.

Every alteration of her heartbeat, every tremble of her hand, every worry in her mind, he knew.

“I’m sorry.”

She didn’t have to face him to recognize his presence.

“I did not mean to cause you pain,” the slender fingers entwined with hers.

She stayed in silence, her face stoic, still angry at his negligence, although her hands betrayed her.

“I hate you,” she nuzzled against his nose before pushing him away, muffling her sobs with her hands, “For a year I will suffer your absence, the possibility of losing you. And you shunned me out-“

Aemond silenced her with a kiss, tasting bittersweet mixture of her lips and wistful tears.

He lifted her body to the wooden table on which they’d made love many times before.

“We can’t,” she whimpered, “The first child must be Aegon’s.”

The ardour in the prince’s movements promptly cooled down as if being drowned in a bucket of ice water.

“Right,” Aemond took a stride back, his one eye gazing at her tears-stricken fragile figure with an intensity that could match the very dragon flame that had forged the Iron Throne.

“Did you know that you will wield Dark Sister soon?” She caressed his cheek, attempting to mask her sorrow with pride.

“What will they call me, my queen?” Aemond teased, “The second Rogue Prince or Visenya reincarnated?”

“Neither,” she brushed her finger in his nose playfully, “You will be remembered as Aemond Targaryen, the first of his name, the Conqueror of Dorne. I have faith in you. I always have.”

Aemond tightened his grip on her waist, his voice low and cracking, “You’ve always been with me.”

“Always, even if I cannot be there with you,” she gently wrapped her legs around his waist.

Suddenly, an idea birthed in her head. She hopped of the desk, grabbing the prince’s confused hands and led him to the vanity table.

“Sit,” she pressed Aemond’s shoulders mischievously, “Your queen is about to tend you a royal braiding.”

A bright red crept on the prince’s pale skin as she bent down, pressing a kiss filled with adoration on his cheek, “I will miss you, and Vhagar too.”

“She wishes to fly with you again,” Aemond confessed, “The dragon loves you as much as her rider.”

“I shall,” she chuckled as her fingers moved into his exquisite silver lock, “My aunt Bryana taught me the art of braiding. In the Reach, having your hair braided by a lover's hand is believed to bring good luck, though I do not think you need any.”

Aemond relished the sensation of her hands buried in his hair, her soft chuckles and jests.

Selfless, caring, gentle, pure.

That was who she was.

Since that fateful night on Driftmark, a profound resentment toward physical touches had grown within the One-Eyed Prince.

It was perhaps one of the reasons why he revelled and excelled in the art of the sword.

The proximity of the opponents, their vigilant posture, the mixture of fear and viciousness reminded him of the horror both she and he suffered under the hands of the Strongs.

While others’ closeness risked to trigger his monstrosity, hers awakened warmth and serenity.

As her fingers explored the depth of his head with delicacy, he could feel her hot breath on his lost eye.

The memories invaded.

His lost eye continued to flow streams of blood while the other was forced to watch Jacaerys’ training in swordsmanship overpowering her advantage in height, her being chocked helplessly on the cold ground.

Their eyes locked.

She looked at him with despair.

Sorry. Her eyes told him. I am sorry that I couldn’t protect you.

“I love you,” Aemond seized her hands as the last strand of his lock was weaved, “I swear to you, I will return victorious.”

Slowly pacing to his side to sit on his laps, she blinked, “And when you come back to me, I want to carry your little dragons.”

“Aegon does not object?” He asked while caressing that agonizingly beautiful scar on her thigh.

She rolled her eyes teasingly, “Of course, he doesn’t. That’s the least the king could do when his little brother fights a war for him.”

As the first ray of sunlight bathed the Red Keep in a golden glow, Aemond Targaryen and Criston Cole began their march southward, setting in motion a war that scholars and scribes from across the realm would pore over the tale.

As centuries passed, the Dornish historians recounted the bloodiest battles that shook the realm during the decades-long War of Westerosi Conquest. Among them, none rivalled the ferocity and chaos each time the One-Eyed monster returned from King's Landing, his silver locks intertwined with an elegance and grace that only the skilled hands of the Westerosi queen could bestow.

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danika-redgrave124 · 4 months ago

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Umbra Witch Yuu Ramshackle Dorm Events Part 2

Glorious Masquerade

Masquerade Mask: A beautifully ornate mask in purple and black, adorned with intricate gold filigree and small, sparkling gemstones. The mask covers the upper half of Yuu's face.

Hair: Yuu's hair is styled in an elaborate updo with elegant curls cascading down their back. The hair is adorned with small black and gold hairpins.

A luxurious, floor-length gown made of rich, purple satin and black lace. The fabric shimmers with a subtle sheen, giving the impression of opulence and sophistication.

The gown features a fitted bodice with intricate black lace detailing and gold embroidery. The neckline is an elegant off-the-shoulder design, adorned with small sparkling gemstones.

Skirt: The skirt flows gracefully to the floor, with layers of soft purple satin and black tulle creating a voluminous and elegant silhouette. The outer layer of the skirt is adorned with gold embroidery and small, sparkling gemstones, forming intricate patterns that shimmer as Yuu moves.

Train: A long, flowing train extends from the black of the gown, featuring gold lace detailing, adding an extra touch of grandeur.

Accessories

Gloves: Long, black satin Gloves that reach past the elbows, adorned with gold lace trim.

Shoes: Elegant, high-heeled black satin shoes with purple and gold detailing, completing the sophisticated look.

Jewelry: A gold choker necklace adorned with a large amethyst and delicate gold chains that drape elegantly around Yuu's neck. Matching earrings with purple gemstones and gold accents complete the ensemble.

Bride For A Day

Headpiece: A classic, floor-length white veil made of delicate tulle, adorned with intricate lace trim and tiny pearl accents. The veil cascades elegantly from a silver tiara with sparkling gemstones.

Hairstyle: Yuu's hair is styled in a sophisticated updo with soft curls and elegant twists. The updo is decorated with small, pearl-studded comes and white floral accents, creating a romantic and timeless look.

A luxurious, floor-length gown made of pristine white satin and lace. The frabic has subtle sheen, reflecting light in a soft, radiant manner.

The gown features a fitted bodice with intricate lace detailing and silver embroidery. The sweetheart neckline is adorned with delicate pearls and lace appliqués, enchancing the romantic feel.

The dress has off-the-shoulder sleeves made of sheer, white lace with a subtle floral pattern. The lace is adorned with tiny pearls and silver thread accents for added elegance.

Skirt: The skirt flows gracefully to the floor, with layers of soft satin and tulle creating an elegant silhouette. The outer layer if the skirt features intricate lace embroidery and delicate pearl accents, forming a stunning, intricate pattern.

Train: A long, flowing train extends from the back of the gown, featuring elaborate detailing and pearl embellishments. The train creates a dramatic and breathtaking effect as Yuu moves.

Accessories

Gloves: Long, white satin gloves that reach past the elbows, adorned with lace trim and small pearl details at the cuffs.

Shoes: Elegant, white satin high-heeled shoes with delicate lace and pearl detailing, completing the look.

Jewelry: A sparkling silver necklace with a large, clear gemstone pendant, and matching earrings with pearl and gemstone accent. A simple elegant bracelet with silver and pearl details complements the ensemble.

Groom For A Day

Top Hat: A classic black top hat with a white satin band and a delicate floral accent. The floral detail features small white roses and a subtle hint of silver.

Hairstyle: Yuu's hair is styled in a sleek, sophisticated updo. The hair is smooth and polished, with a few elegant curls framing their face, and adorned with a small, white floral hairpin.

Suit

Jacket: A tailored black tuxedo jacket with a white satin lapel. The jacket is adorned with subtle silver embroidery along the edges, adding a touch of elegance. It features a single-breasted design with a peak lapel and a fitted waist.

Vest: A white satin vest with delicate silver embroidery and a subtle sheen, providing a sharp contrast to the black jacket. The vest has a low V-neck and is fastened with silver buttons.

Shirt: A crisp, white dress shirt with a high collar and a subtle texture. The shirt features a hidden placket and is adorned with small silver cufflinks.

Trousers: Black, tailored trousers with a slim fit. The trousers are lined with a white satin stripe down the side, matching the jacket's lapel.

Accessories

Bow Tie: A white satin bow tie with a subtle silver sheen, perfectly complementing the vest and shirt.

Gloves: White, silk gloves thatvreach up to the wrists, adding a classic touch to the ensemble.

Shoes: Polished black patent leather dress shoes with a sleek, elegant design. The shoes feature a subtle silver trim for added sophistication.

Pocket Square: A white satin pocket square with a delicate silver pattern, tucked into the breast pocket of the jacket.

Jewelry: A silver tie clip and matching cufflinks, each adorned with a small, white gemstone for a touch of refinement.

Sam's New Year Sale

Hair Accessories: Yuu's hair is adorned with Kanzashi hairpins featuring floral designs in silver and midnight blue, with small hanging tassels that shimmer subtly. The cool tones of the accessories complement the overall color palette of the kimono.

Hairstyle: Their hair is styled in a sleek, modern updo with elegant twists, accentuated by subtle highlights of silver. This hairstyle exudes sophistication while keeping their hair neatly secured.

Outfit:

Kimono:

Design: A stunning Houmongi Kimono made of luxurious silk in shades of deep teal and silver. The kimono is adorned with intricate patterns of cascading wisteria, moonlit waves, and delicate plum blossoms. The motifs are embroidered in soft silver and cool lavender, creating a serene, ethereal look.

Sleeves: The kimono features long, flowing sleeves with a subtle gradient from deep teal to silver, giving a sense of movement and fluidity. The inner lining of the sleeves is a contrasting shade of cool lavender, adding a touch of elegance when she moves.

Obi: A wide obi belt in soft silver with intricate lavender embroidery depicting graceful cranes and swirling clouds. The obi is tied in a traditional style with an elegant knot at the back, and a small, decorative tassel in midnight blue hangs from the bow.

Undergarments:

Nagajuban: A traditional under-kimono garment in a pale, icy blue with subtle patterns of snowflakes and moonlit ripples, maintaining the cool and serene color scheme.

Footwear:

Zori Sandals: Traditional Zori sandals with a raised wooden sole and thongs in deep midnight blue, accented with silver. The sandals are designed to be both stylish and practical, matching the overall theme of the kimono.

Gloves:

Fingerless Gloves: Delicate, fingerless gloves made of sheer, silver lace with wisteria and plum blossom embroidery in cool lavender tones. The gloves add a touch of refinement while allowing for agility in combat.

Accessories:

Fan: A beautifully crafted folding fan with a design of wisteria and cranes in shades of silver and teal. The fan doubles as both a decorative accessory and a hidden weapon, with sharp edges for close combat.

Obi Accessories: Small, elegant charms dangle from the obi, including silver moon crescents, tiny cranes, and plum blossoms, adding a touch of traditional elegance.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #twst yuu #ramshackle #umbra witch yuu #twst x bayonetta #twisted wonderland x bayonetta #bayonetta x twisted wonderland

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mcntsee · 10 months ago

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— my angel

Summary: Fires of passion, ashes of hate epilogue! Months had slipped away since the night they barely escaped from the crumbling building. The memories of that night’s hours-long conversation haunted Kaz’s thoughts until the moment he laid eyes on her at the party—the very gathering where he decided to finally set them both free.

Warnings: Mentions of drinking, low self-esteem, negative self-perception and self-doubt. Past relationships, mentions of breakup and heartbreak. No happy ending? (In my opinion, it is a happy-ish ending) and kind of ooc Kaz. Not proofread, so excuse any grammar mistakes.

Authors notes: In my opinion this can be read as a standalone or two-parter too. Anyway, this was, originally, going to be the ending to the series and, although the ending ended up being entirely different, I really liked this and wanted to do something with it. Lastly, there is no use of “Y/n”

The ballroom was alive with an electric energy, each corner aglow with the soft, golden hues emanating from the large chandelier adorning the ceiling. Its crystal facets refracted the light, casting intricate patterns across the room. Couples moved with effortless grace on the polished dance floor, their silhouettes swaying in perfect harmony to the melodious strains of the band.

Clusters of guests mingled and conversed, their laughter and animated gestures mixing with the soft tunes as waiters navigated skillfully through the crowd, balancing trays laden with glasses of champagne. The clinking of crystal and murmurs of delight filled the air as guests indulged in the sparkling libations, toasting to love, laughter, and the joy of the moment.

The soft glow of candlelight flickered against the ornate décor, casting shadows that danced playfully along the walls. The scent of fresh flowers perfumed the air, their delicate fragrance mingling with the sweet notes of champagne and the tantalizing aroma of gourmet delicacies being served.

His crew’s laughter reached his ears as he continued to glance around the bustling ballroom, the cacophony of voices blending into a steady hum. Their conversations ebbed and flowed, barely audible over the swell of music and the clinking of glasses.

His eyes swept over the crowd, scanning every familiar and unfamiliar silhouette, searching for a mark among the pigeons ripe for the picking. They moved back and forth between the guests' faces, seeking out the perfect opportunity, until they finally landed on her.

There, amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces, stood her, illuminated by the soft glow of the chandelier above. Her hair was expertly styled into a fancy yet slightly messy bun that exuded an effortless elegance. Delicate rhinestones in shades of gold adorned the intricate twists and turns of her updo, while loose strands cascaded gracefully, framing her face with a captivating allure.

Her dress, a vision in forest green, draped elegantly over her figure, accentuating every curve with effortless grace. The low back of the gown hinted at a hint of allure, teasing without revealing too much, leaving just enough to the imagination. The fabric shimmered in the light, casting a subtle sheen that complemented the richness of her hair and the sparkle of her eyes.

His eyes traveled down her figure, lingering on her choice of footwear—a stunning pair of gold heels that accentuated the graceful curve of her ankles. The heels, with their intricate design and shimmering finish, perfectly complementing the forest green of her dress. With each step she took, the heels added a subtle sway to her movements, adding an extra layer of elegance to her demeanor.

But it was the jewelry that truly caught his eye—simple yet elegant in its design. He remembered the day he stole those pieces for her years ago, after catching her longing gaze upon the shop's window where they were displayed. The gold-dangling earrings perfectly matched her bracelet and necklace. Each piece seemed to enhance her natural beauty, radiating a quiet confidence and effortless charm that left his eyes frozen in place, unable to tear his gaze away from her mesmerizing presence.

He couldn’t hear her laughter amidst the cacophony of noise in the room, but he didn’t need to; he remembered the sound well enough to imagine it when he saw her head slightly tilt back, an open-mouthed smile gracing her face as her eyes squeezed shut. He watched as her shoulders moved up and down with every sound that left her mouth, the loose strands of hair gently swaying from one side to the other, following the slow movement of her head as she gently shook it.

He attempted to divert his gaze away from her to resume his search for the perfect prey amidst the crowd. Yet, every subtle movement that his peripheral vision caught seemed to tug at his attention, irresistibly drawing his eyes back to her.

They had encountered each other countless times since the building’s collapse, their paths crossing unexpectedly during jobs or by sheer coincidence, such as ending up waiting in line at the same café. At times, they had even spotted each other through the bustling crowds at the barrel, their eyes meeting fleetingly for just a second before they each continued walking in opposite directions.

Just as they had for years, they still fought and plotted against each other's success, seizing opportunities to disrupt each other's plans while praying for their downfall. The only difference was that their reactions were no longer as explosive as they once were.

Ever since that fateful night, after a long conversation and a couple of sips of the rye whiskey she had been so eager to drink, he hadn't been able to keep her out of his thoughts.

The images of her lying in his bed with the brand-new sheets below her consumed his every thought during the day.

The way that, despite her face being streaked with grime and dirt from the collapsing building they had narrowly escaped, her features remained striking. The sight of her sweat-dampened hair, tousled yet somehow still captivating, strands falling delicately across her forehead like they always seemed to do as she lay there. Her injured arm rested on her stomach, while the other hand gently massaged her temple in an effort to ease a headache.

The short sleeve of her shirt had been rolled up to her shoulder, revealing the dried blood that marred her skin. Her legs had been crossed, one foot gently tapping in rhythm to the song she hummed softly under her breath—a melody that had filled the air that night. Her brows furrowed, accentuating the lines on her forehead, as she kept her eyes closed, shutting out the world around her. Her lips tightly pressed together.

At night, while he shifted softly in bed with a subtle turn here and a slight adjustment there, as if he were navigating the landscapes of his dreams with the fluidity of a wandering soul, the memories of what they had once shared flooded his dreams. Each recollection brought with it a pleasant warmth that filled his heart, contrasting sharply with the urgent whispers of his subconscious urging him to wake up. Yet he remained nestled in the embrace of sleep, unwilling to part with the fleeting solace found within the depths of his dreams.

Blinking away from the thoughts that had started to consume him, he tore his gaze away from her silhouette and turned to face his crew. His lips moved, shaping instructions he couldn't recall, and before he could even register it, his feet were propelling him in her direction.

He felt his chest tighten, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he navigated the crowd. A couple of guests edged too close for comfort, prompting him to subtly maneuver away, doing everything in his power to avoid contact.

Silently thanking the saints he didn’t believe in for her remaining stationary and engaged in conversation with the woman before her, he moved as quickly as his bad leg allowed, inching closer to her with every uneven step. Despite the trembling of his gloved hands brought on by the encroaching crowd, he kept his eyes fixed on her figure, trying to steady his shaky breathing as best he could before finally reaching her.

After a couple more uneven steps, the sweet, intoxicating scent of cherries wafted through the air, enveloping him in a nostalgic embrace. With a sense of familiarity washing over him, his arm extended out, his gloved finger delicately tapping her shoulder twice.

Her radiant smile illuminated his world as she turned to face him, but it vanished quicker than he'd hoped, replaced by a confused expression overtaking her features instead. Her eyes quickly scanned over his face before she turned back to the woman she had been talking to, politely excusing herself from their conversation. Then, her attention swung back to him, and her focus was now entirely on his presence. “Brekker?”

His attention fixated on her face, meticulously memorizing the details that had been obscured from afar. He studied the subtle pink blush that graced her cheeks, then shifted his focus to the dark eyeshadow that accentuated the brightness of her eyes. As her lips moved once more, his gaze descended, settling on her lips, admiring the deep red hue of the lipstick she had chosen.

“Kaz?”

The gentle sound of her voice calling his name snapped him out of the trance. With a swift transition, the muffled sounds in his ear sharpened into clarity as he recentered his focus and locked eyes with her.

He cleared his throat, a subtle nervousness betraying his composed exterior, before extending his arm once more. His palm facing upward as he offered her his hand to take. “Dance with me, love.”

In a matter of seconds, her vibrant smile reappeared, accompanied by a quiet giggle that escaped her lips. Her eyebrows arched in a teasing manner, her voice rising in pitch as she responded, "Why, how could I ever deny you a dance, handsome?" Her hand extended to grasp his, but before it could make contact, he retracted his arm, pulling it closer to his body.

With a shaky sigh, he brought his other hand up, trembling slightly as he began tugging at the gloved-covered fingers of the hand he had just offered her. Slowly, he peeled the leather enclosure away, setting his hand free from its confining cover.

He tucked the glove into his pants pocket, mustering a deep breath, before extending his now-bare hand back to her. The sensation of her skin against his sent waves of nausea churning through his stomach as he battled with the ghost of his past, threatening to overwhelm him like crashing waves. Yet, the familiar caress of her gentle touch eased the struggle, empowering him to emerge victorious.

His previously tentative gaze, fixed on the ground, snapped to their connected hands in surprise. He hadn’t anticipated the tenderness with which she would grasp his hand, nor did he recall how deeply he once cherished the sensation of her skin against his own.

Her other hand slowly advanced, delicately grasping his chin as she awaited his reaction. Sensing his acceptance of her touch, she gently guided his face upward to meet her gaze, offering an affirming nod and a tender smile. As his surprise subsided, he returned the nod, softly squeezing her hand before leading her to the dance floor.

They found solace in a secluded corner, away from the throng of dancing couples and prying eyes. He swiftly withdrew his hand from hers, wiping away the sweat on his pants as his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

He gauged his hand’s dryness before cautiously raising it, meeting her gaze once more, anticipating a teasing glint in her eyes. However, to his surprise, he found a warm smile gracing her lips, accompanied by an understanding gaze that met his nervous one. Without hesitation, she raised her arm and connected her hand with his once more.

With another shaky breath escaping his lips, he maintained eye contact as his free hand snuck around her waist, drawing her closer until their chests gently pressed together. Simultaneously, her free hand found its place on his shoulder, completing their embrace as they prepared to dance.

As the music enveloped them in its tender embrace, they began to sway in perfect harmony.

"Do you think that, perhaps, our love was too potent to coexist?" she whispered, her eyes probing his face for an answer as they swayed together on the dance floor.

His face turned to hers, her question echoing in his mind as he searched for an answer. “I believe it still is.” Her eyes shifted away from his, flickering back and forth as she processed his response.

With each step, their movements flowed effortlessly, as if guided by an unseen force. His hand, firm yet gentle as it led her through each graceful turn and dip, while her touch, light as a feather, traced patterns of warmth across his shoulder.

“There’s—” He hesitated, his gaze lingering on her face, before reluctantly tearing his eyes away, searching for the right words. “There is a breathtaking ache in knowing I’ll never forget our love.”

Their bodies moved as one, the music fading into the background as his heart’s erratic rhythm drowned out all other sounds. He hesitated, the weight of the words he needed to say hanging heavy on his tongue. “I can’t keep doing this, love.”

With a sigh, her movements stilled, and her arms lowered from their previous position on his body. Just as she had done before, his hand moved slowly, delicately grasping her chin before gently guiding her face upward to meet his gaze.

At the sight of her teary eyes, his heart dropped, making him regret his words. With a tender touch, his bare hand moved up from her chin, tracing the curve of her cheek, seeking solace in the warmth of her skin, while his gloved hand joined in, enveloping her face gently between both. As a tear escaped her eye, his thumb instinctively moved to gently wipe it away.

After a moment, he gently took her hand in his and guided her away from the dance floor, leading her towards the door that would take them to the tranquil garden outside.

As they stepped outside, the cool breeze gently tousled his hair, sending strands swaying in rhythmic waves with each gust, rustling the leaves of nearby trees, and sending ripples through the surface of a nearby pond. The air was filled with the earthy fragrance of damp soil and fresh foliage, mingling with the subtle hint of flowers in bloom.

“I meant what I said.” He rasped out. With each step, the soft crunch of gravel beneath their feet added to the symphony of sounds in the peaceful garden, creating a serene backdrop for their conversation. “I can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?”

He couldn’t bear the burden of resentment nor sustain the weight of a love confined to memories. “I really thought it was going to be you,” he confessed, his stride faltering. Halting abruptly, his grasp on her hand tightened, drawing her back towards him and compelling her to face him once more. “I really wanted it to be you.” His gloved hand reached out to grasp her free one, completing the union of their hands. With one hand bare and the other gloved, he held her securely, his thumbs gently caressing the soft skin of both of her hands. "Sometimes," he admitted softly, his voice barely above a whisper, "I still do."

He found nothing more humiliating than his own desires, and for that, he hated her, because anger was better than tears, than grief, than guilt.

The day she walked out of what used to be their shared room, his heart shattered into a million irreparable pieces. The warmth that had always accompanied her presence vanished with her, leaving him enveloped in a chilling emptiness that still lingered whenever she was absent.

“I can’t keep hoping for something that will never be.” There were days when he believed he had finally moved on from her, only to find himself longing to hear her voice and feel the warmth of her embrace enveloping him once more.

Every day he sought out the sensation of being truly alive because, in truth, the last time he had felt truly alive was when he gazed into her narrowed eyes, their voices rising in intensity, breathing the same air, witnessing her every step as she walked out of his life.

The last time he felt truly alive, he had been slowly dying, watching his world crumble before him as the sound of the slammed door behind her echoed in his ears.

From that point forward, he found himself endlessly replaying every moment they shared in his mind, mourning the loss of what they once had and resigning himself to the fact that they wouldn't be creating any new memories together.

During the initial stages of their relationship, he dwelled in a state of confusion. He couldn’t comprehend how her bright eyes had seen the hell in his and loved it anyway.

She was a kind soul forced to navigate in crowds full of evil. Unafraid to stand up for what was dear to her, never hesitating to shield everything she loved. And, saints! Her love flowed like scorching waves through both her words and deeds, showering him with a kindness he believed was beyond his deserving. And it was only in her angelic gaze that he found refuge, for it alone could discern the remnants of goodness within him.

She remained the sole divine thing he believed in—the one enduring belief he still clung to.

Her touch was a gentle caress that gradually transformed him into a man more deserving of love. Under her influence, he became the type of man who would pause as he passed the florist shop, turning back to pick out flowers for her. He memorized her coffee order and took the time to prepare a somewhat presentable version of her favorite dessert. Her sweet demeanor reached a part of his heart he thought could never be touched.

In contrast, his touch only left claw marks on her, slowly eroding the essence of the girl he had once met in Lij. His voice demanding she transform into something so different from herself. Something filled with anger and cold calculations. A girl he had polished to the point where he could see his own reflection in her.

That was something he regretted deeply. She had picked up all his broken pieces and put them back together, while he had picked her apart, fragment by fragment. And it pained him so much because he knew that Kaz Rietveld would have loved her endlessly and passionately. But he was not him; he was Kaz Brekker, the man who loved her ruinously.

“I can’t keep hurting myself—“ His voice wavered, grappling with the weight of his words, for he knew deep down that that wasn't really it. He deserved to carry the weight of his own pain, regret, and grief, but her? She deserved a life free from the turmoil that plagued him, filled instead with boundless joy and love. “I can’t keep hurting you.”

“Kaz-“

“No! I don’t want to keep hurting you.”

He couldn’t bear the thought of completely banishing her from his life. He wanted to keep her within reach, even if it meant maintaining a cautious distance. He longed to witness her laughter, as he had earlier that night, and to feel the warmth of her gaze upon him. Saints, he still yearned to know if her lips tasted like the cherries that defined her scent.

But she wasn't his anymore.

He knew her like the back of his hand, but he couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that she was slipping away, morphing into a stranger. He knew every single one of her favorite locations, her preferred foods, and the ones she despised. He's keenly aware of her most ticklish spots and knows precisely when to cease the frantic movement of his fingers on her side to evade a punch to the face.

Her favorite color, her favorite type of jewelry. He knows how she washes her vegetables and how she cuts them. What pisses her off and what makes her happy. Her favorite song, and for fucks’ sake, he knows the name of her childhood cat.

But were all the things he remembered as her favorites still her favorites? He didn’t know. People change with time, their preferences constantly shifting, and he hadn't had a real conversation with her until a couple of months ago, and even then, he hadn’t asked.

The warmth of her hands squeezing his brought him back to the moment, infusing him with a sense of courage he had longed for as he summoned the strength to utter his next words, "I need to set you free, and you need to do the same for me."

“I know, but I-“ Her eyes struggled to blink away the tears, their rapid movement tugging at his heartstrings as he watched his beautiful girl fight to maintain a strong facade, a frown etching across his brow in silent pain. “I don’t want to forget you.”

He maintained the sad but soft smile on his face for a moment as he studied her expression. “Am I that easy to forget?” He finally said, his previous smile morphing into a teasing one, his playful tone carrying a mock offense as if he were truly offended.

“No.” She laughed softly, shaking her head as her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “If you were, we wouldn’t be here.”

Silence enveloped them for a while as she took a moment to compose herself. As she averted her gaze from him, her hand slipped from his and moved to her cheek, wiping away the tear that had finally escaped her eye.

When her gaze returned to him, he gently took her hand back in his, feeling the warmth returning to his bare hand. “Will you forget me?”

“My love,” his body drew closer to hers, their chests almost touching as his gloved hand departed from the warm embrace of her gentle grasp. It traveled up her face tenderly, cradling her cheek with affection. “You have a place in my heart no one else could ever have.”

As a soft gasp escaped her lips in response to his words, his gaze flickered down to them, observing them part in search of words, yet none emerged. After a moment, he finally looked up to meet her eyes, only to find that, much like he had been moments ago, she was fixated on his lips. Slowly, he inched his face closer to hers.

As his face drew closer to hers, he felt the warmth of her breath on his skin, their eyes locking in silent communication, his gaze seeking permission from hers.

The nod of her head came slowly, a silent affirmation that Kaz cherished as he leaned in, closing the distance between their lips.

His shoulders dropped, tension melting away as his body relaxed, and her arms gently wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as they melted into the kiss.

He battled his inner demons for as long as possible, but when the nausea became overwhelming, he reluctantly pulled away from her. His eyes closed as he let a quiet chuckle out.

“What’s so funny?”

"Oh, nothing, love.”

She patiently waited for him to regain composure, and once he did, she waited for him to make the next move.

Tears welled up in his eyes at the prospect of forever letting go of her, yet he knew it was the right decision. With gentle determination, he reached for her hands once more.

His grip tightened briefly before releasing, lifting her hand to his lips, where he placed a tender kiss against her knuckles. As he did, he couldn't help but notice the subtle blush that graced her cheeks and the sparkle that danced in her eyes when they met his.

“Goodbye, Kaz.”

With one final, gentle squeeze of their intertwined hands, he lowered hers, savoring the all-too-familiar sensation of her skin against his for the last time before releasing her grasp.

“Take care, love.”

He stood there for a moment, his gaze fixed on her as she turned away from him. Her shoulders slumped slightly, a barely audible sad sigh escaping her lips before she began to walk away. Away from him, away from what they had once shared.

He allowed his gaze to linger on her back for a couple more seconds before he, too, turned to face the other direction, his uneven steps carrying him away from the scene as a bittersweet smile graced his lips. She did taste like cherries.

For the first time in their lives, they didn’t look back. They keep moving forward, each step a silent acknowledgment of the paths they must now walk alone.

#six of crows #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows x reader #fanfiction #angst #fluff #kaz brekker

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the-bifrost-blogger · 8 days ago

Text

Of Chaos and Quiet Moments

Title: Meeting the In-Law

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Timeline: Present day Asgard.

(Y/N) eased herself out of the tub with a satisfied sigh, her hands instinctively cradling the swell of her abdomen. The Asgardian bath had been a marvel of warmth and luxury, the waters scented with florals she couldn’t name but found utterly enchanting. For a brief moment, she had let herself relax. Too brief, it seemed, as she now stood in the quiet of her chambers, realizing the children’s laughter that had echoed faintly from the adjoining room had gone silent.

A chill of unease crept up her spine. Where had they wandered off to?

Draping herself in the light green gown Jane had insisted she wear—a flowing garment accented with intricate golden embroidery and paired with delicate jewelry that glimmered in the low light—(Y/N) moved toward the door. She hesitated in front of the mirror, brushing a hand over the smooth fabric. The gown suited her surprisingly well, hugging her figure in a way that felt regal yet comfortable. Loki would have loved seeing her in it. Her lips quirked in a small smile, but it vanished quickly as she returned to the task at hand: finding the children.

She padded out into the hallway, her footsteps softened by the ornate rugs lining the polished floors. The palace was magnificent—too magnificent, in her opinion. The sheer size and opulence of it all made her feel like a small bird in a gilded cage.

“Where could they have gone?” she murmured to herself, glancing down one corridor and then another. The golden walls glimmered under ethereal lighting, casting long, elegant shadows. It was eerily quiet, save for the occasional distant hum of voices or the soft clang of Asgardian armor from patrolling guards.

Then she heard it—a peal of laughter, high and unrestrained, followed by a burst of giggles that she instantly recognized. Her shoulders sagged in relief, though her brow furrowed in curiosity. The sound came from deeper down the corridor to her left.

Following the trail of mirth, she turned a corner and stopped short. The sight before her was enough to take her breath away.

In a grand alcove bathed in golden sunlight spilling from an arched window, her children were gathered around a strikingly elegant woman. The woman’s long, golden hair fell in waves over her shoulders, her posture regal even as she crouched to their level, an expression of unguarded warmth gracing her features. Her dress, a shimmering blend of soft gold and ivory, was adorned with delicate filigree that seemed to catch the light with every movement.

There was no doubt in (Y/N)’s mind who this radiant woman was. Frigga, the Queen of Asgard.

(Y/N) pressed a hand to her chest, unsure if her heart was racing from awe or nerves. Frigga, wholly unaware of her presence, extended her hand to her youngest child, who clutched a glimmering bauble—a trinket from the queen’s own adornments, no doubt.

“You see?” Frigga’s voice was as melodic as a songbird’s, carrying just enough authority to command attention while remaining kind. “You mustn’t squeeze it too tightly, little one. Treasures like this are meant to be admired, not crushed.”

The child nodded solemnly, their tiny fingers relaxing around the shiny object. Another of the children tugged on Frigga’s sleeve, pointing toward the window. “Look, it’s so shiny over there! Can we see it closer?”

“Of course,” Frigga said with a soft chuckle, rising gracefully to her feet. Even this simple movement carried an air of majesty. “But first, let us return this treasure to its rightful place, hm?”

(Y/N) stepped forward without meaning to, her maternal instincts overruling her hesitance. “I hope they haven’t been a bother.”

Frigga turned, her serene expression unchanging as her sharp, intelligent eyes took in (Y/N)’s presence. For a moment, (Y/N) felt laid bare under the queen’s gaze, but the feeling was quickly replaced by warmth as Frigga’s lips curved into a welcoming smile.

“They have been nothing of the sort,” Frigga assured her. “They are delightful.” Her eyes flicked briefly to (Y/N)’s gown and the subtle jewelry adorning her, approval clear in her gaze. “And you must be Jane’s friend.”

“I am,” (Y/N) replied, her voice steady despite the fluttering in her chest. She instinctively rested a hand on her belly, a motion that didn’t go unnoticed by Frigga.

“Please, sit,” Frigga said, gesturing toward a nearby marble bench that gleamed like pearl. Her tone was kind but firm, leaving little room for polite refusal. “You mustn’t tire yourself unnecessarily.”

(Y/N) hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding, lowering herself onto the cool surface of the bench. The children scampered back to Frigga’s side, giggling and chattering as they resumed their game.

“It has been some time since my children were that small,” Frigga mused aloud, her eyes softening as she watched (Y/N)’s brood. “Time moves far too quickly when they are young.”

(Y/N) smiled, though she felt the weight of the queen’s words. “It does. Sometimes I feel like I blink, and they’ve already grown.” Her fingers absentmindedly traced the folds of her gown as she added, “It’s a little overwhelming, if I’m honest. But they’re worth every second.”

“They always are,” Frigga replied gently. Her gaze shifted to (Y/N), assessing her with a mix of curiosity and kindness. “You wear motherhood well. It suits you.”

“Thank you,” (Y/N) said, her cheeks warming under the compliment. She glanced back at the children, her heart swelling with affection. “They make it easy. Most of the time.”

Frigga laughed softly, the sound like a bell in the quiet corridor. “You speak as if they are not currently leading me on a merry chase.”

(Y/N) chuckled, easing into the conversation despite her initial apprehension. She still felt the need to tread carefully, but there was something undeniably disarming about Frigga’s presence. The queen exuded a warmth that felt genuine, and for the first time since arriving in Asgard, (Y/N) felt a flicker of comfort amidst the grandeur.

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment, her eyes flickering between the children, who were still lost in their game of chasing each other around Frigga’s flowing golden gown, and the graceful woman herself. Frigga’s presence was commanding yet serene, her radiant smile making (Y/N) feel both seen and oddly at ease.

“You must be Jane’s friend,” Frigga said, her voice gentle but with a regal undertone that only years of leadership could bestow. She gestured to the ornate marble bench nearby. “Please, sit with me. You look as though you could use a moment’s rest.”

(Y/N) instinctively placed a protective hand over her belly, suddenly all too aware of how heavy her steps must have seemed while searching for the children. She nodded graciously. “Thank you, my queen.”

Frigga chuckled softly as (Y/N) lowered herself onto the bench. “There’s no need for such formality. Frigga will do just fine.” She settled beside (Y/N) with a grace that felt effortless, her attention drifting to the children, who had now begun to mimic warriors, swinging imaginary swords in grand battles.

“They seem to be enjoying themselves,” Frigga remarked, her smile widening.

“They always seem to find joy wherever they go,” (Y/N) replied, a soft laugh escaping her lips as one of the children declared themselves “The King of Asgard” and planted a pretend flag on a decorative vase. “Though I hope their energy doesn’t become too much of a nuisance.”

“Not at all,” Frigga assured her, her gaze warm. “It has been far too long since there was the sound of children’s laughter in these halls. It’s a welcome change.”

(Y/N) smiled, though she felt a flutter of nervousness. Frigga’s kindness was disarming, but there was an intelligence in her gaze, a sense that she missed nothing.

“How old are they?” Frigga asked, her tone light, as though she were merely making conversation.

(Y/N) began to relax slightly as she answered. “My eldest, Liam, is eight, Elise is six, and Theo is four.”

“They’re delightful,” Frigga said with genuine affection. “Such spirited little ones. I’m sure they keep you busy.”

“They certainly do,” (Y/N) agreed, a note of exhaustion mingling with fondness in her voice. She shifted slightly, adjusting her posture as her pregnancy added to the day’s weariness.

Frigga noticed the movement and tilted her head slightly, her eyes flicking to (Y/N)’s belly. “And soon, there will be another to join the fray?”

(Y/N) nodded, a soft smile gracing her lips. “Yes. Just a few months now.”

“May I?” Frigga asked, gesturing delicately.

Caught off guard but sensing no malice, (Y/N) gave a small nod. Frigga placed a gentle hand on her arm, her touch light but steady. “You are carrying yourself with such strength. It is no small feat to raise children, let alone prepare for another. You must be very proud of them.”

Tears stung at (Y/N)’s eyes at the unexpected kindness, but she blinked them away, not wanting to seem overly emotional. “Thank you. I am.”

The conversation shifted to lighter topics, with Frigga asking questions about the children’s interests and habits. (Y/N) found herself relaxing more, her initial nervousness ebbing away under the queen’s gentle demeanor.

At one point, Frigga remarked, “It’s been many years since my sons were that small. Seeing your little ones brings back fond memories of when they would run through these halls.” Her gaze softened, and there was a flicker of wistfulness in her expression.

(Y/N) smiled knowingly but chose her words carefully, unsure of how much she should reveal. “I imagine they were a handful in their own ways.”

“Very much so,” Frigga replied, her voice tinged with amusement. “But they were also my greatest joys.”

As the children continued their play, Frigga’s attention returned to (Y/N). “It’s clear they adore you. They seem to have inherited your strength and spirit.”

(Y/N) felt a warmth in her chest at the compliment. “I hope so. I try my best to guide them, though I often feel like they teach me more than I teach them.”

Frigga’s laugh was soft and melodic. “That is the way of children, isn’t it? They remind us of what truly matters.”

The two women sat in companionable silence for a moment, watching the children. Frigga finally turned to (Y/N) again, her expression curious but kind. “Jane spoke very highly of you. She said you’ve been a wonderful friend to her.”

“I feel lucky to know her,” (Y/N) replied, her tone genuine. “She’s been an incredible friend to me as well.”

Frigga nodded thoughtfully, her gaze lingering on (Y/N). There was no direct question, but (Y/N) could sense that the queen was quietly piecing things together.

The children’s laughter filled the corridor as they continued their antics, pretending to be warriors of old. (Y/N) watched them with a soft smile, but her focus was split between their playful antics and the elegant woman sitting beside her.

“I must admit,” Frigga began, breaking the comfortable silence, “I was quite curious when I heard about Jane’s friend visiting Asgard. She mentioned you briefly, though she failed to mention just how charming your little ones are.”

(Y/N) chuckled lightly. “Jane has been very kind to us. I think she sees us as a sort of extension of her family.”

Frigga’s gaze softened. “She has always been generous with her affections. It seems you and your children have made quite an impression on her—and from what I’ve seen, it’s well-deserved.”

The warmth of Frigga’s words eased some of (Y/N)’s lingering tension. “Thank you,” she said, sincerity coloring her tone. “Jane has been an incredible friend. I can’t imagine navigating...everything without her.”

Frigga tilted her head slightly, her curiosity evident. “Everything?”

(Y/N) hesitated, mentally berating herself for her slip. “Oh, you know, just life. Raising children has its challenges, and Jane has been a wonderful support.”

The queen’s perceptive eyes lingered on (Y/N) for a moment longer than was comfortable before she let the topic slide. “Raising children is indeed a challenge, but also a privilege. They’re a reflection of our greatest hopes and our deepest fears.”

(Y/N) nodded, her hand instinctively resting on her belly again. “They teach us patience, resilience, and so much about ourselves. I think they make us better, even on the days when it feels like they’re testing every limit we have.”

Frigga laughed, a rich sound that seemed to brighten the corridor. “Oh, how well I know those days. Thor and Loki were not so different from your little ones at that age. Mischievous, curious, and endlessly energetic.”

The mention of Loki’s name sent a pang through (Y/N), though she kept her expression neutral. “I imagine they must have been quite the handful.”

“Handful doesn’t begin to describe it,” Frigga said with a playful smirk. “Thor was all bluster and bravado, always seeking adventure. Loki, on the other hand...” She paused, her expression growing wistful. “He was clever, resourceful, and had a penchant for finding trouble in the most unexpected places.”

(Y/N)’s lips twitched in amusement. “It sounds like they kept you on your toes.”

“They did,” Frigga replied, her smile bittersweet. “But I wouldn’t trade a single moment of it. Every scrape, every argument, every triumph—it was all worth it to see them grow.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help but feel a surge of admiration for the woman beside her. Frigga’s love for her sons was palpable, and (Y/N) wondered if Loki ever truly understood just how deeply his mother cared for him.

The conversation shifted again as Frigga gestured toward the children, who were now engaged in an elaborate game of hide-and-seek among the decorative pillars. “And what of their father?” she asked casually. “I imagine he must be proud of such spirited children.”

(Y/N) stiffened slightly, the question catching her off guard. She glanced at the children, who were too engrossed in their game to notice her hesitation.

“He is,” she said carefully, her voice soft but steady. “He’s...everything to us. A wonderful father, and a partner I couldn’t imagine my life without.”

Frigga’s gaze remained steady, her expression unreadable. “You speak of him with such affection. It’s clear how much he means to you.”

(Y/N) nodded, her smile turning wistful. “I don’t think there are words to truly capture how I feel about him. He’s kind, brilliant, protective...and he loves our children with all his heart. I feel so fortunate to have him in our lives.”

For a moment, Frigga said nothing, her thoughtful expression giving away little of her inner thoughts. When she finally spoke, her voice was gentle. “He sounds like a remarkable man. I hope I’ll have the chance to meet him one day.”

(Y/N) swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. She offered a small, tight smile. “I’m sure you will.”

As the children ran back toward them, demanding attention and stories, (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel the weight of the moment. Frigga’s warmth and kindness were genuine, but her intuition was razor-sharp. (Y/N) knew she would have to tread carefully in the days to come.

The late afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the corridor, and the children’s giggles echoed faintly as they darted away to explore new corners of the palace gardens. Frigga’s serene smile lingered as she turned her attention back to (Y/N), whose eyes followed her children with a tender expression.

“They truly are a delight,” Frigga said warmly, her voice pulling (Y/N) back to the present. “And you must be very proud of them. I can see they take after you in many ways.”

(Y/N) flushed slightly at the compliment, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thank you. I’d like to think they have some of my better qualities, though they certainly inherited plenty from their father too.”

At this, Frigga’s interest visibly piqued, though her expression remained gentle. “Your husband must be quite extraordinary to have captured your heart and fathered such wonderful children.”

(Y/N)’s lips curved into a soft smile, her heart swelling at the thought of Loki. “He is,” she said, her voice filled with affection. “He’s…everything I never knew I needed. Intelligent, witty, caring. And though he’d never admit it, he’s got the biggest heart.”

Frigga tilted her head, her curiosity evident. “It’s a beautiful thing to hear someone speak so deeply of their partner. Tell me, how did you meet?”

(Y/N) hesitated, not wanting to divulge too much, but her love for Loki made her eager to share. “It wasn’t under the most conventional circumstances,” she admitted with a laugh. “But from the moment I got to know him, I realized there was so much more to him than what he showed the world. He’s complicated, but in the best way. He’s the kind of person who challenges you to be better, while never making you feel like you’re not already enough.”

Frigga’s eyes softened, and she leaned forward slightly. “He sounds remarkable indeed. And he must adore you to inspire such devotion in return.”

A warmth spread across (Y/N)’s cheeks. “He does. He has this way of making me feel like I’m the only person in existence who matters when he’s with me. And he’s so patient with the children. They absolutely adore him.”

There was a flicker of something in Frigga’s expression—recognition, perhaps, though she said nothing of it. Instead, she smiled, her voice remaining light. “He must be a very attentive father.”

“Oh, he is,” (Y/N) replied eagerly, her tone brightening. “He’s always there for them, even when he’s busy or distracted. He knows how to make each of them feel special, like they’re the center of his universe. He has this way of balancing being their guide and their friend.”

Frigga’s gaze lingered on (Y/N) for a moment, her thoughts clearly turning over something in her mind. When she spoke again, her voice was measured but kind. “It’s rare to find a man with such qualities. He must be quite accomplished in other ways as well?”

(Y/N) chuckled softly. “You could say that. He’s brilliant—his mind works in ways that I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand. He’s...well, he’s not like anyone else I’ve ever met.”

The subtle emphasis in her words did not escape Frigga, who observed her carefully. “And does he hail from your world, or another?”

This time, (Y/N) paused, the question brushing too close to the truth. She offered a small, polite smile. “He’s traveled quite a bit, let’s put it that way. He’s seen things I could only dream of.”

Frigga didn’t press, but her perceptive nature clearly absorbed every word. “It seems you’ve found a rare and precious bond,” she said softly. “One built on love and mutual respect.”

(Y/N)’s heart ached with a mixture of pride and longing. “I have. I’m so grateful for him every day.”

The silence between them was filled with unspoken understanding. Frigga’s intuition was sharp, and though she didn’t voice it, (Y/N) felt the weight of her knowing gaze. Yet, there was no judgment or malice in her eyes—only a quiet respect.

Frigga’s voice broke the silence, gentle and maternal. “Cherish what you have, my dear. Love like that is a gift, and not one to be taken lightly.”

“I do,” (Y/N) replied, her voice steady. “With all my heart.”

As the children returned, tugging at (Y/N)’s gown and clamoring for her attention, the conversation shifted back to lighthearted topics. But as Frigga helped steady one of the children who had tripped, her gaze lingered on (Y/N) with a look that suggested she understood more than she let on.

The children returned with the energy of a small storm, their laughter filling the corridor as they tugged on (Y/N)’s gown and peppered her with stories about their newfound discoveries in the gardens. One held up a handful of peculiar golden flowers, while another excitedly described an unusual bird they had seen.

Frigga stepped closer, crouching slightly to speak to the children directly. “And have you all been treating your mother kindly while you explore?” she asked, her tone playful yet kind.

One of the children giggled, nodding enthusiastically. “We always do!”

“I would love to hear all about your adventures sometime,” Frigga said, her voice calm and reassuring. “Perhaps you can show me these treasures you’ve gathered.”

As the children’s excitement began to bubble over again, Frigga turned to (Y/N) with a knowing look. “You must be weary,” she said softly. “Carrying a child is no small feat, and these little ones are boundless in their energy.”

“I’m fine,” (Y/N) assured her, though she appreciated the concern. “It’s a lot to juggle, but I’ve managed so far.”

Frigga nodded, her expression kind. “I see that. But even the strongest mothers deserve moments of rest.” She paused, glancing toward the palace halls. “I would very much like to spend more time with you, if you’d allow it. There is something about you that I find…familiar. Comforting, even.”

(Y/N) smiled, though her heart raced at the implication. “I’d like that,” she said cautiously. “Your kindness has made this place feel less intimidating.”

Frigga’s hand rested briefly on (Y/N)’s arm, a light but meaningful touch. “You belong here more than you realize, my dear. I look forward to seeing more of you and your wonderful children.”

The words settled heavily in (Y/N)’s chest, a mixture of comfort and apprehension. She knew that this budding connection with Frigga made Loki’s eventual introduction of their family even more crucial—and more daunting.

As the children tugged on her hands and began to pull her away toward their quarters, Frigga’s parting smile lingered in her mind. The encounter had been warmer and more accepting than she could have hoped, but it also left her keenly aware of the stakes.

Walking away with the children chattering around her, (Y/N) couldn’t help but glance back. Frigga still stood by the bench, watching them leave with a serene expression. For all her warmth, there was a sharpness in her gaze—a quiet understanding that (Y/N) couldn’t ignore.

As she rounded the corner and the older woman disappeared from view, (Y/N) exhaled deeply. The meeting had gone well, but it was only the beginning. And when Loki returned, they would have to face the truth together.

...

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shiorihyugawrites · 1 month ago

Text

Diamond Of The First Water

In the aftermath of war, Paradis finds itself in need of powerful alliances. When Emperor Armand of Valoria offers his military aid in exchange for the hand of his daughter, Princess Solina, in marriage, Captain Levi Ackerman is thrust into an engagement that begins as a political strategy but soon becomes something much deeper.

Princess Solina, sheltered from the world and unaware of the realities of love and war, finds herself drawn to Levi—the man known as Humanity’s Strongest Soldier. As they navigate royal customs, public expectations, and the growing threat of Marley, the bond between them deepens into a genuine connection.

But neither Solina nor Levi are prepared for the challenges of a political marriage, the weight of intimacy, and the secrets that lie beneath the surface. As Solina enters a new life with Levi, her naivety is tested, and Levi faces a battle unlike any he’s fought before—the fight to protect his heart.

Can their love flourish in the midst of war, duty, and danger? Or will the forces conspiring against them tear them apart before they can find peace? (Levi x OC)

Chapter Twenty One

The grand tea banquet hall was filled with laughter, the soft clinking of porcelain cups, and the warm, delicate scent of fresh pastries and fine teas from across the Valorian Empire. Noblewomen from all around the kingdom were dressed in their finest attire, each lady adorned in exquisite gowns, glittering jewelry, and delicate lace. Today was a day for elegance, poise, and tradition—a day to celebrate Princess Solina before she embarked on her new life as the wife of Captain Levi and future ambassador to Paradis.

At the head of the gathering sat Solina, her cheeks slightly flushed with a mixture of excitement and nerves. She wore a beautiful dress of soft pastel hues, her red hair styled in elegant waves that cascaded over her shoulders. Beside her, her mother, Lady Solana, radiated pride and happiness, her emerald green gown mirroring the vibrant color of her eyes. Solina’s younger sisters, Soleil and Solenne, giggled beside her, already immersed in the excitement of the day. They were joined by the other consorts and Solina’s half-sisters: the soft-spoken Gracelyn, the vivacious Ruby, the poised Opal, and the graceful Ivoria.

As the noblewomen mingled and sipped their tea, Solina graciously accepted a series of gifts presented by her family and close friends. Each gift was thoughtful, each sentiment heartfelt, and the room was filled with admiration for the beloved princess who would soon be leaving to start a new life.

But, despite the festivity, there was a tension lingering beneath the surface, one that Solina couldn’t ignore. Dimaria, her half-sister from Lady Darcy’s side, sat across the table, her expression unreadable but her eyes sharp. She offered backhanded compliments throughout the afternoon, thinly veiled beneath a tone of feigned sweetness.

“Oh, Sister,” Dimaria said, raising her cup to her lips with a smirk, “you must be so excited. Leaving Valoria to live on an island—how… quaint. I imagine you’ll miss the comforts of home terribly. But I’m sure it’s a fitting place for a Diamond, to be hidden away, yes?”

Solina’s smile faltered, but she maintained her composure, replying as gracefully as possible. “Paradis is very different, yes, but I look forward to learning from its people and becoming a part of their world. I’m grateful for the opportunity.”

Lady Darcy, seated nearby, exchanged a glance with Dimaria and made no move to curb her daughter’s attitude. Instead, she leaned forward, her tone cool and aloof. “Oh, indeed, it’s quite the journey you’re undertaking. I do hope Captain Levi is… accommodating to such a delicate flower as yourself. It would be such a pity if things didn’t work out as planned.”

Lady Solana, having heard enough, set her cup down with a soft but audible clink. Her voice was calm but held an edge that hinted at years of restrained tension. “Enough with your snide remarks, Dimaria. It’s unbecoming of you to speak to your sister this way, especially on a day meant to celebrate her.”

Dimaria’s eyes narrowed, and she straightened her shoulders, her voice dripping with false innocence. “Why, I’m merely showing concern, Lady Solana. Surely it’s understandable to worry about Solina’s adjustment to such a… different lifestyle. She is, after all, the Diamond. I would hate to see her brilliance tarnished by such a… rough place.”

Lady Solana’s patience finally snapped, and she fixed Dimaria with a cold, piercing gaze. “You jealous, spiteful child,” she spat, her voice cutting through the polite chatter around the table. The room fell silent, all eyes turning to the two women. “You’ve been nothing but bitter since the day you realized Solina was chosen as the Diamond of Valoria. And it’s no wonder why you weren’t chosen—you lack the kindness, the grace, and the selflessness that title demands.”

Dimaria’s face turned red with anger, and Lady Darcy’s expression darkened as she stood from her seat, her voice a low hiss. “How dare you speak to my daughter that way, Solana! Who do you think you are?”

Lady Solana rose to her feet as well, her expression unwavering, her gaze hard and unyielding. “I am Solina’s mother, and I will not tolerate your daughter belittling mine on what is supposed to be a joyous occasion. You and your spiteful daughter have been nothing but poison to this family, constantly undermining Solina and spreading bitterness wherever you go.”

Lady Darcy took a step closer, her eyes flashing with fury. “You always think you’re so high and mighty, don’t you, Solana? Just because you bore the Emperor’s heir doesn’t make you better than the rest of us. You’re nothing more than a self-righteous fool.”

The tension in the room was palpable, the other noblewomen glancing nervously at one another, unsure of how to react. Solina felt her cheeks burning with embarrassment and frustration. This was supposed to be a happy day, a day of celebration, and yet here were her mother and Lady Darcy, locked in a fierce standoff, their bitterness spilling over into the one moment that was meant to be hers.

“Mother,” Solina said softly, placing a gentle hand on Lady Solana’s arm, hoping to diffuse the situation. “Please, let’s not… let’s not let this ruin the day.”

But Lady Darcy was not done. She turned her gaze on Solina, her voice dripping with contempt. “It’s a pity, really, that the Diamond is so… sensitive. One would think a true Diamond could handle a bit of criticism without wilting.”

Solina’s heart sank, but before she could respond, Lady Solana’s voice cut through the air like a blade. “Enough, Darcy. If you have nothing but venom to contribute, then perhaps you should leave. Solina deserves to be surrounded by those who genuinely wish her well, not by envious, bitter souls who can’t stand to see her shine.”

Lady Darcy’s eyes flashed with anger, and for a moment, it looked as though she might lash out. But instead, she gave a haughty sniff, turning on her heel. “Come, Dimaria. Clearly, we’re not wanted here.”

Dimaria cast one last, withering look at Solina before rising from her seat, following her mother out of the room with a defiant tilt to her chin. The tension lingered in the air even after they had gone, the other women shifting uncomfortably in their seats.

Lady Solana sighed, her shoulders relaxing as she turned to Solina, her expression softening. “I’m sorry, my dear,” she murmured, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind Solina’s ear. “I didn’t want this to happen on your special day.”

Solina forced a small smile, though the sting of her half-sister’s and Lady Darcy’s words still lingered. “It’s all right, Mother. I… I suppose I’ve grown used to it.”

Soleil, who had been silent throughout the exchange, suddenly reached over and took Solina’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “Don’t listen to them, Solina. You’re the Diamond because you deserve to be. And we’re all so proud of you.”

Ivoria nodded, her gaze warm and supportive. “They can say whatever they want, but we know who you truly are, Solina. And so does Levi. That’s what matters.”

A soft murmur of agreement rippled through the room, and Solina felt her spirits lifting, a sense of reassurance filling her heart. She looked around at the women gathered around her— her mother, her sisters, the other consorts, the friends who truly cared for her—and a genuine smile spread across her face.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. “Thank you all. I’m so lucky to have each of you by my side.”

The tension melted away, and the atmosphere gradually returned to one of warmth and celebration. Lady Solana raised her teacup, smiling at her daughter. “To Princess Solina,” she announced, her voice ringing with pride. “May her new journey bring her happiness, strength, and all the love she deserves.”

The women around the table raised their cups, echoing Lady Solana’s toast, their voices filled with warmth and affection.

“To Princess Solina!”

As they sipped their tea, Solina felt a renewed sense of confidence and peace settle over her. Whatever challenges lay ahead, whatever bitterness Dimaria and Lady Darcy might harbor, she knew she had the support of those who truly mattered. And with Levi by her side, she felt ready to face the future, knowing that she would never be alone.

…

After Lady Darcy and Dimaria’s abrupt departure, a gentle but collective sigh of relief rippled through the room. The tension seemed to lift immediately, like a heavy fog dissipating under the warmth of the sun. Lady Blair leaned back in her chair, her eyes twinkling with a blend of amusement and exasperation as she took a careful sip of her tea.

“Well,” she murmured, setting her cup down with a gentle clink. “I think that might be the first tea I’ve had to sip through gritted teeth. It’s a miracle it didn’t shatter in my hands.”

Lady Madeline, typically reserved and private, gave an uncharacteristic chuckle. “It’s truly impressive how Darcy and her daughter manage to sour even the sweetest moments,” she remarked dryly, glancing over at Solina with a soft, sympathetic look. “You shouldn’t have had to endure that, Solina. This day is about celebrating you, not enduring petty barbs.”

Solina smiled shyly, grateful for the support of her family, though the weight of Lady Darcy’s and Dimaria’s words still lingered slightly. Lady Solana reached over and patted her hand, offering a warm, motherly smile that melted some of the tension from Solina’s shoulders.

“Thank you, both of you,” Solina said softly, looking from Lady Blair to Lady Madeline. “It… it hurt to hear them speak that way, but… I suppose it’s something I’ve grown accustomed to. I just wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

“None of us wanted it to be this way,” Lady Solana sighed, her tone filled with a resigned frustration. “But Darcy has always been… difficult. She and I were close once, when we first came to the palace. She was like a sister to me. We went through everything together—adjusting to court life, the constant scrutiny, even our pregnancies.” She shook her head sadly. “But then Solomon was born first, and suddenly everything changed. She saw it as a betrayal, as though I’d somehow conspired to place Solomon before James in the line of succession. It’s as though she can’t accept that life sometimes unfolds in ways beyond our control.”

Lady Blair scoffed, her voice laced with a rare edge. “Darcy has always been one to harbor grievances over things that were never meant to be in anyone’s control. She’s ambitious, yes, but it’s poisoned her heart. And now, that bitterness has spread to Dimaria.” She shook her head, glancing toward the doorway through which the mother and daughter had departed. “I still remember when Dimaria and Solina were little girls, thick as thieves. They were practically inseparable.”

Solina nodded, a wistful smile tugging at her lips. “We used to spend hours in the gardens together, playing hide-and-seek, making crowns out of daisies. I thought of her as a sister. I never imagined she would one day… resent me.”

Lady Madeline looked thoughtfully at Solina, her usually reserved face softened with empathy. “Puberty brought out the worst in her, I’m afraid,” she murmured. “I remember Darcy whispering to me once, saying that she hoped Dimaria would become the Diamond, to ‘restore balance’ after Solomon was named heir. It’s as though she thought Solina and Solomon both bore some fault for being chosen.”

Lady Solana sighed, her fingers drumming thoughtfully on the table. “I had hoped Darcy would come to see reason over the years, that she would put her children’s happiness above her own desire for status. But her ambitions have only grown, and they’ve twisted her—and Dimaria, too. All that jealousy and resentment has seeped into her daughter. It’s like a poison that’s infected them both.”

Lady Blair’s face tightened with sympathy as she glanced at Solina. “You know, my dear, that you should never take Dimaria’s words to heart. Her barbs come from a place of deep insecurity. She’s had her mother feeding her tales of entitlement and superiority for years, convincing her that she was meant to be the Diamond, that you somehow stole that from her. But you and I both know that the title of Diamond isn’t about status or beauty alone—it’s about grace, kindness, and resilience, qualities that Darcy never saw fit to instill in her daughter.”

Solina managed a grateful smile, though her fingers fidgeted with her teacup. “It’s comforting to hear that, but it’s… it’s still difficult. I didn’t choose this title. I didn’t even want it at first. But I’ve come to accept it, to try and live up to the expectations that come with it. I just wish they could see that I never meant any harm. I just want to be a good sister.”

Lady Madeline reached over, giving Solina’s hand a gentle squeeze. “You’ve already proven yourself as a sister, as a daughter, and as the Diamond. Anyone who cannot see your worth is simply choosing not to. Darcy’s vision is clouded by her own ambition, and she’s infected Dimaria with the same poison. But you—” Madeline smiled warmly, pride evident in her gaze, “you have blossomed into a woman who embodies everything this family, and this kingdom, should be proud of.”

Lady Solana looked between her daughter and her friends, her eyes shining with gratitude and pride. “We’re here for you, Solina,” she said softly. “Blair, Madeline, and I have always supported each other, and we’ve raised our children to love one another, despite the challenges. It’s only Darcy who refuses to find harmony with us. But no matter what, we will stand by you, and so will your siblings—Soleil, Solomon, and even James. You have a family that loves you, and that is far more powerful than Darcy’s bitterness.”

Lady Blair raised her teacup in a small, encouraging gesture. “To Solina,” she said, her voice warm and filled with conviction. “May she continue to be the light that guides this family, and may she find joy and love in her new life with Captain Levi.”

The other ladies lifted their teacups, echoing Lady Blair’s sentiment with quiet strength. “To Solina.”

As they all sipped their tea, Solina felt a newfound confidence bloom within her, nourished by the unwavering support of her family. She knew that she was loved, that she was surrounded by those who believed in her, who would protect her no matter the trials ahead. The sting of Dimaria’s and Lady Darcy’s words began to fade, replaced by the warmth of the bonds she shared with these women.

Lady Madeline, ever perceptive, watched Solina with a gentle smile. “And as for Captain Levi,” she said, her voice softer, “he will see in you the qualities we all see, if he hasn’t already. A marriage founded on respect, kindness, and love will be far stronger than anything Darcy and Dimaria could ever tear down. You are on a path toward a future filled with promise, Solina. Hold on to that.”

Solina nodded, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and happiness at Madeline’s words. “Thank you, Lady Madeline. I… I truly appreciate your wisdom. I feel ready for this, truly.” She glanced around at the smiling faces of her mother and the other consorts, taking a deep breath as a sense of peace washed over her.

As the afternoon continued, the air filled with laughter once again, the three older women sharing memories of their early days in the palace, stories of their children, and even a few lighthearted jokes at each other’s expense. Solina found herself relaxing, the earlier tension forgotten as she laughed along with them, grateful for these moments of genuine family connection.

In her heart, Solina knew that this support, this love, was all she needed to face whatever challenges lay ahead. The path may not be easy, but with Levi by her side and her family behind her, she was ready to step forward as Valoria’s Diamond and as Levi’s wife, with strength and grace.

…

Meanwhile as Lady Darcy and Princess Dimaria entered the lavishly adorned Lily House, the tension between them hung thick in the air. Lady Darcy’s face remained impassive, her mind swirling with thoughts of the Emperor’s recent warnings. She knew better than to test his patience further, especially after their recent confrontation. Her position was precarious enough; to jeopardize it by aligning herself with the Marleyans or by openly sabotaging Solina would be akin to courting disaster. No, Lady Darcy would not risk her standing in the imperial family any further.

But Dimaria… Dimaria had never been one to adhere to subtlety or patience. Watching her mother’s apparent resignation only fueled her resentment more. She wanted to hurt Solina, to wipe that blissful smile off her face and tear down the picture-perfect image that everyone held of her half-sister. The more she saw Solina cherished, adored, and now on the brink of a happy marriage, the deeper Dimaria’s jealousy sank, darkening her thoughts.

As they walked through the corridors, the glittering chandeliers and tapestries of Lily House casting a warm glow on their path, Dimaria kept her expression carefully neutral until they reached her chambers. She could barely contain her simmering resentment as she closed the door behind her mother and sank onto one of the luxurious chaise lounges.

Lady Darcy regarded her daughter with a weary look. “Whatever you’re plotting, Dimaria, I advise you to exercise caution. Your father is not a fool. If he suspects even a hint of foul play from us, he won’t hesitate to put you in your place.”

Dimaria scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Oh, Mother, please. You may be content to let Solina walk all over you, but I’m not. She’s stolen everything that should have been mine—her title, her happy engagement, and now this adoring attention from everyone around her. I won’t sit idly by while she gets everything handed to her on a silver platter.”

Lady Darcy sighed, her tone icy. “And what do you intend to do? Whatever you’re thinking, it cannot be connected back to us. I’m already walking a fine line with the Emperor. One misstep, and we could lose everything.”

A sly smirk crossed Dimaria’s lips as she considered her plan. “I assure you, Mother, I’ll keep our family name safe. But Solina is in for a rude awakening. Levi might seem like the perfect, loyal fiancé, but he’s still a man. All men have their weaknesses.”

Lady Darcy’s brow furrowed in cautious interest. “What exactly are you planning, Dimaria?”

Dimaria leaned forward, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. “I overheard one of the maids talking about a surprise bachelor party for Captain Levi tonight. Apparently, his dear friends from Paradis and James, Solomon, and Gale are planning the event.”

Lady Darcy’s eyes narrowed with intrigue. “A bachelor party? Go on.”

“Levi may be captivated by Solina now, but that can change. I’ll arrange for a few… distractions to show up at his little celebration. A few dancers, perhaps some women from the brothels nearby, something to catch his attention. Men can be quite predictable when faced with temptation.” Her lips twisted into a cold smile. “And then, I’ll ensure that Solina sees it all. I’ll have her go there, innocent and trusting, only to witness Levi surrounded by women throwing themselves at him.”

Lady Darcy’s eyes widened, and she looked at her daughter, both impressed and alarmed. “Dimaria… that is a dangerous game you’re playing. If it backfires—”

“Then it will be on him,” Dimaria interrupted smoothly. “All I’m doing is arranging for a bit of entertainment. If he’s truly devoted to Solina, he’ll behave himself, won’t he?” She let out a mocking laugh. “But if he’s like most men, Solina will see the truth of what she’s marrying into. Either way, she’ll be hurt.”

Lady Darcy regarded her daughter thoughtfully, a part of her recognizing the recklessness of the scheme but also understanding the deeper roots of Dimaria’s resentment. She’d cultivated Dimaria’s ambition, encouraged her dreams of rising above, and fueled her desire to be noticed. And now, Dimaria was acting out the same bitterness and jealousy that had been planted within her since childhood.

“What if Solina sees through it?” Lady Darcy cautioned. “She may be naive, but she’s not entirely oblivious.”

Dimaria gave a dismissive wave. “She’s too infatuated to see reason. I’ll make sure that her doubts are strong enough to cast a shadow over her marriage before it even begins. I’ll have the maid deliver a message to her during the party, something vague but concerning, enough to make her think something’s wrong. By the time she arrives, the scene will be set. She’ll see Levi in the company of other women, and her heart will shatter.”

Lady Darcy’s lips curved in a half-smile, though her eyes held a hint of caution. “Very well. But tread carefully, Dimaria. If anyone suspects you, especially the Emperor, we’ll both suffer the consequences.”

Dimaria’s eyes sparkled with a mixture of glee and malice. “Don’t worry, Mother. I’ve thought this through. By the end of tonight, Solina’s perfect little fairy tale will begin to unravel.”

With a satisfied smile, she rang a small bell, summoning one of her trusted maids. A young woman entered, bowing respectfully, and Dimaria immediately launched into her instructions. She spoke in a hushed tone, outlining the details with precision, her voice carrying a strange delight as she described each aspect of her scheme.

The maid listened attentively, her eyes widening slightly as she realized the nature of Dimaria’s plan. But years of serving in the Lily House had taught her not to question orders, especially from someone as ambitious as Princess Dimaria. When Dimaria finished, the maid nodded, curtsying before leaving the room to carry out her instructions.

Once the maid had gone, Dimaria reclined on the chaise, her fingers tapping lightly on the armrest as she envisioned the chaos her plan would unleash. She could already picture the look of devastation on Solina’s face, the heartbreak in her eyes as she witnessed Levi surrounded by women vying for his attention. Dimaria’s smile widened.

Lady Darcy, though still cautious, allowed herself a small smile of approval. “Perhaps this will finally remind Solina that she isn’t invincible. She needs to be humbled.”

Dimaria’s gaze sharpened, a glint of satisfaction in her eyes. “Oh, she will be humbled, Mother. By the time I’m finished, she’ll understand exactly what it’s like to lose something she cherishes.”

They shared a knowing look, the animosity they both held toward the Rose House uniting them in this malicious endeavor. And while Lady Darcy still held a hint of hesitation, she couldn’t deny the twisted satisfaction that came from imagining Solina’s heartache.

For now, Dimaria’s plan was set in motion, and all they had to do was wait. The wheels of their scheme turned with silent anticipation, each step leading toward a night that promised to shatter Solina’s illusions. Dimaria’s heart raced with anticipation, savoring the moment when her sister’s happiness would begin to crumble.

And with one final, triumphant smile, she reclined back, content to watch her scheme play out from the shadows, relishing the thought of Solina’s perfect world collapsing, one carefully crafted piece at a time.

…

In the royal training grounds, Levi struck the training dummy with focused precision, each blow more intense than the last, he allowed himself to lose track of time. The rhythmic, repetitive motion of his strikes grounded him, allowing his thoughts to wander without losing his edge. Each swing helped to release a bit of the tension that had built up within him over the last few days, a mixture of anticipation and something close to excitement. In less than 48 hours, Princess Solina would officially become his wife, a fact that both surprised and moved him.

The thought brought a rare smile to his lips, hidden by the concentration etched across his face as he focused on his practice. He could hardly believe it himself—that he, Levi Ackerman, humanity’s strongest soldier, a man hardened by years of battle and loss, could feel this strange sense of happiness at the prospect of marriage. And not just any marriage, but a union with someone as genuinely kind and selfless as Solina. She was unlike anyone he had ever known, and he was slowly realizing that he was looking forward to this life they were about to start together. The thought of protecting her, being there for her, supporting her... it stirred something in him that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Just then, the sound of laughter and footsteps interrupted his thoughts. Turning, he saw Hange, Jean, and Armin approaching him, and alongside them were Solomon, James, and Gale, Solina’s brothers. Levi had come to appreciate the presence of his future brothers-in-law, finding in them a camaraderie he rarely associated with royalty. They were different, less pretentious than most nobles he’d met, more grounded and approachable. Of course, that respect did not extend to everyone in Solina’s family—Princess Dimaria and Lady Darcy were a different story entirely. Levi felt a flicker of sympathy for James, who had to endure living with them in the Lily House. He couldn’t imagine how difficult that must be.

“Levi!” Hange called out with a grin, waving as she led the group over. “It’s time to put down the swords and pick up… well, something a little more celebratory!”

Levi narrowed his eyes, a bit skeptical. “What are you talking about, Hange?”

Jean smirked, crossing his arms. “Did you really think we’d let you get married without a proper bachelor party?”

Levi blinked, taken aback. He hadn’t even considered the idea, his mind far too focused on the upcoming ceremony and everything that would follow. “A bachelor party? That’s… not really necessary,” he mumbled, a bit uncomfortable with the sudden attention.

“Oh, come on, Levi,” Armin said with a gentle smile. “It’s tradition. Besides, we’ve got everything planned, and we’re not taking no for an answer.”

Solomon stepped forward with a grin. “Consider this our way of welcoming you to the family, Captain. We’ve kept things respectful—no need to worry. Just a night of drinks, good company, and a little bit of fun.”

Levi sighed, but he couldn’t deny the warmth he felt at their enthusiasm. “Fine,” he conceded, wiping the sweat from his brow. “But nothing too over the top, alright?”

“Over the top?” Hange laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Levi, you have no idea what’s coming!”

James laughed alongside her, an easygoing smile on his face. “Don’t worry, Levi. We know you’re not one for extravagance. We’ll keep it low-key… mostly.”

As the group began to walk back towards the palace, Levi found himself relaxing slightly. The camaraderie and support of his friends, combined with the acceptance he felt from Solina’s brothers, was a welcome reprieve from his usual solitary existence. These people were genuinely celebrating him, and it was a feeling he wasn’t entirely accustomed to.

“Can’t believe you’re really going to be a married man,” Jean said, walking beside him with a smirk. “You, of all people.”

“Yeah, I’m surprised too,” Levi replied dryly, though a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Didn’t think I’d live long enough to even consider something like marriage.”

“Yet here we are,” Gale chimed in, a hint of pride in his voice. “And I couldn’t be happier that my sister is marrying someone like you, Levi. Solina deserves someone who’ll treat her well.”

Levi’s expression softened at the mention of Solina. “She’s… something else,” he admitted quietly, a rare openness in his voice that didn’t go unnoticed by the others.

“Look at him, getting all soft,” Hange teased, nudging him playfully. “Who would have thought? Captain Levi, with a soft spot for a princess.”

Levi rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. “Shut up, Hange.”

The group shared a laugh, the easy banter helping to dispel any lingering tension. As they made their way towards the designated location for the party, Levi couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment. Despite his reservations about royalty and the burdens that came with it, Solina’s family—at least some of them—were good people, and he was grateful to be welcomed among them.

When they finally arrived, Levi was surprised to see a private room set up in one of the palace’s less formal quarters. The space was decorated simply, with comfortable seating, a large table laden with food and drinks, and an assortment of candles casting a warm glow over the room. It was intimate, tasteful, and perfect for someone like Levi who preferred simplicity over grandeur.

“Alright, everyone!” Hange announced, clapping her hands together. “Tonight, we drink to Levi and Solina!”

“Here, here!” the group echoed, lifting their glasses.

As the night wore on, Levi found himself loosening up, enjoying the warmth of the company and the easy laughter that flowed among them. Solomon shared stories of Solina from her childhood, recounting moments that made Levi smile, and James and Gale took turns poking fun at their own youthful misadventures, much to everyone’s amusement.

“You’re really lucky, you know,” Solomon said at one point, his tone a mix of sincerity and pride. “Solina may be a princess, but she’s more than just a title. She’s kind, incredibly talented, selfless, and she cares deeply about the people around her. She’ll make a wonderful wife.”

Levi nodded, his gaze softening as he took in Solomon’s words. “I know,” he replied simply. “I never expected any of this, but… I know I’m lucky. I’ll protect her, Solomon. You have my word on that.”

Solomon gave him a firm nod, a sense of mutual respect passing between them. “That’s all I need to hear.”

As the night continued, Jean and Armin took turns trying to engage Levi in friendly arm wrestling matches, which he won effortlessly each time. Even Solomon joined in, and though he put up a good fight, Levi’s strength ultimately prevailed.

“You’re going to make Solina feel pretty safe with those skills,” James joked, patting Levi on the back as he caught his breath from laughter. “She’s marrying one of the strongest men in the world.”

“Strength doesn’t matter as much as loyalty,” Levi replied, his voice calm but serious. “I’ll always be loyal to her. That’s what she deserves.”

The room grew quiet for a moment, a shared understanding settling among them. Even the scouts, who had known Levi longer than anyone else present, could see the sincerity in his words. This marriage was more than just an alliance—it was something Levi was committed to, heart and soul.

Hange, unable to let the seriousness linger for too long, raised her glass with a grin. “To Captain Levi, the most loyal and intimidating husband-to-be!”

“To Levi!” they all echoed, laughter breaking out once more.

The hours passed, and Levi found himself truly enjoying the rare camaraderie and support from both his friends and his future brothers-in-law. They spoke of everything from battle strategies to embarrassing childhood memories, the bonds among them growing stronger with each shared laugh and toast.

But as the night began to wind down, Levi couldn’t shake the warm, hopeful feeling that had settled in his chest. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t just a soldier or a leader—he was about to become a husband, part of a family that truly cared for him. And though the future was still uncertain, Levi knew one thing for sure: he would do everything in his power to protect Solina and make her happy.

And as he looked around at the faces of his friends and newfound family, Levi allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, he deserved this happiness after all.

…

A few hours in and the party had reached the point of joyful chaos that only a mix of friendship, laughter, and a fair amount of alcohol could produce. Levi found himself bemused by the sight of Hange and Jean locked in a very enthusiastic debate over who was more “married” to their work, while Solomon and Gale leaned against each other, exchanging knowing grins that only came with shared family secrets. James had pulled Armin into a not-so-graceful dance, while Levi looked on, an amused but calm observer.

Despite the buzz of activity around him, Levi remained the only sober one at his own bachelor party, watching the antics unfold with a faint smile. He couldn’t deny he was enjoying himself. It was… nice, to be surrounded by both friends and future family, all here to celebrate this unexpected chapter in his life. For once, he felt a sense of acceptance and camaraderie that he hadn’t experienced in years. But as he glanced around the room, he couldn’t help but think of Solina, wondering what she might be doing right now. His thoughts wandered to their upcoming wedding and the future they’d soon be sharing.

Just then, an attendant opened the door, looking slightly nervous. Levi raised an eyebrow as he noticed the man glancing behind him, and before anyone could question it, four stunningly beautiful women dressed in shockingly scant clothing strolled confidently into the room. They were all elegance and allure, their movements calculated and intentional, and they sauntered over to Levi, their eyes glinting with purpose.

The room went silent, everyone’s gaze shifting between the women and Levi, whose expression had hardened in an instant. Jean, who was decidedly tipsy, let out a loud laugh. “Wait, who ordered the dancers?” He turned to Hange, eyes wide with mock suspicion. “Was it you, Hange?”

Hange just blinked, clearly just as perplexed as everyone else, before bursting into laughter herself. “Jean, don’t look at me! I’m just as surprised as you!”

Levi’s face darkened as he watched the women close in on him, and he shifted uncomfortably as one of them slipped onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. “This isn’t exactly the type of party I was expecting,” he muttered, his voice a sharp contrast to the teasing laughter filling the room.

The women began to dance around him, pressing close, their intentions clear as they moved with practiced sensuality. Levi’s jaw clenched as he tried to remove the arms that were draped around his shoulders. He glanced at Solomon, James, and Gale, who all wore equally puzzled expressions.

“Did… Did anyone actually call for this?” Solomon asked, looking between his brothers and the scouts, trying to make sense of the situation. “I didn’t think Levi was the kind of man to enjoy something like this.”

“I didn’t call for them,” Gale replied, looking just as uncomfortable. He glanced at Levi, who was struggling to push the women off without physically hurting them or causing a scene.

Levi’s patience was wearing thin, his irritation growing as the women continued their attempts to engage him. He had no interest in this—if anything, it felt like an insult to the commitment he’d already made in his heart to Solina. Just as he was about to stand and make his way out of the room, an attendant entered, glancing nervously around before clearing his throat.

“Captain Levi,” he began hesitantly, looking between Levi and the women surrounding him.

But before the attendant could finish, the door opened again—and this time, Levi felt his heart drop. Standing in the doorway, looking completely taken aback, was Princess Solina. Her eyes widened as she took in the scene before her, her gaze immediately locking onto the sight of Levi, surrounded by four half-dressed women, all of whom were practically draped over him.

Levi felt a stab of panic as he saw the look of utter betrayal on her face, her lips trembling as her eyes filled with tears. “Solina…” he managed to say, his voice barely a whisper as he tried to stand up, desperate to explain that this wasn’t what it looked like.

But Solina’s expression shifted from shock to heartbreak, her face crumbling as she tried to process what she was seeing. Unable to bear the sight, she covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes brimming with tears as she shook her head.

Before anyone could react, Solina turned on her heel and fled from the room, her soft cries echoing down the hallway. Levi’s heart sank, his throat tightening as he watched her retreating figure, the weight of her hurt and disappointment pressing heavily on him.

The room fell into an uneasy silence, everyone’s gaze shifting to Levi, who stood frozen, his fists clenched at his sides. Solomon, who had been observing the whole ordeal in silent shock, looked from Levi to the door where his sister had disappeared, a deep frown settling on his face.

“What… just happened?” Jean finally asked, breaking the silence, his tone bewildered as he tried to piece together what he’d just witnessed.

Levi's mind raced, frustration boiling up within him as he yanked his hands away and roughly pushed off the women who clung to him, their presence a mocking reminder of the chaos they’d brought. The anger in his eyes was unmistakable as he barked, “Get the hell off me!” His voice cut through the room, silencing everyone around him, including the women who, up until that moment, had been unfazed by his protests.

Without wasting another second, he bolted towards the door, his steps quickening with a fierce determination as he rushed into the hallway. He knew exactly where Solina would be headed—back to the safety of the Rose House, where he couldn’t follow. The thought of her retreating to the royal gardens, hurt and misunderstood, made his chest tighten. He couldn’t let her go, not without explaining, not without clearing up the scene she’d stumbled upon. Desperation fueled him as he pushed himself to move faster, his heart pounding as he spotted her just ahead.

“Solina wait!” he called, his voice carrying through the corridor. But she ignored him, her steps quickening as she fled, and Levi’s frustration grew. He could see her shaking shoulders, the way she tried to hold herself together even as she moved away from him.

In a last, desperate move, he reached out, grabbing her arm to stop her. She spun around, her eyes blazing with a mix of hurt and anger, her chest heaving as she faced him. Before he could even speak, she raised her hand and slapped him across the cheek, the sharp sting of her palm leaving a sensation that was as much emotional as it was physical.

Levi hadn’t anticipated that—not from the soft-spoken, usually shy princess he’d come to know. His head turned slightly from the impact, his eyes wide with surprise as he looked back at her, seeing the depth of her hurt in the tears pooling in her green eyes. She was trembling, her hand lingering in the air as if she herself couldn’t believe what she’d just done.

Solina’s voice broke through the silence, low and filled with pain. “I thought you were different, Levi. I thought I’d found someone… someone I could trust.” Her voice cracked as she spoke, the betrayal evident in every syllable. “But you’re just like any other soldier—any other man who can’t resist a pretty face.”

Levi’s heart twisted at her words, at the raw hurt he saw flashing in her eyes. He knew he had to make her understand. His voice softened, yet held a desperate urgency. “Solina, please, listen to me. What you saw—it’s not what it looked like. I didn’t want them there. No one in that room called for them. They just showed up, and I was trying to push them away before you walked in.”

She looked down, her expression conflicted, as if she was trying to make sense of his words but couldn’t shake the image burned into her mind. “I don’t know, Levi. I want to believe you, but… what I saw…” Her voice faded, and she shook her head, biting her lip as she tried to hold back her tears. Her hands fidgeted, clutching the fabric of her dress as she looked away.

Levi took a step closer, his voice low and unwavering. “Solina, I would never do something like that to you. Especially not now—so close to our wedding. You mean too much to me.” His words were unguarded, each one carrying a weight that showed just how deeply he cared for her. He could see the doubt lingering in her eyes, the uncertainty twisting her thoughts, and it pained him to know she was struggling to believe him.

With a sudden, unplanned movement, Levi reached up, his hands gently cradling her face as he leaned down, his forehead nearly touching hers. “Please, Solina,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, filled with a rare vulnerability. “Believe me.”

Solina’s eyes widened as she looked up at him, her breath catching in her throat. She could feel the warmth of his hands against her cheeks, the sincerity in his gaze breaking down her defenses. She could see the truth there, the desperate plea that mirrored the words he’d spoken.

And before she could say another word, Levi closed the distance between them, his lips capturing hers in a passionate kiss. The world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of them as she felt the warmth of his lips, the firm yet gentle hold of his hands on her face. Her heart pounded as a whirlwind of emotions flooded her—shock, warmth, and a burgeoning happiness that she hadn’t anticipated.

It was her first kiss. Her very first, and it was with him, this man who had filled her heart with hope and excitement for a future she’d once feared. She felt her body relax in his embrace, the tension melting away as his kiss conveyed everything she’d needed to feel—the trust, the care, the promise that he wouldn’t betray her.

Levi pulled back, just enough to look into her eyes, his expression filled with a soft intensity that she’d never seen before. He brushed his thumb against her cheek, wiping away a stray tear. “I care about you, Solina,” he said, his voice steady and filled with conviction. “I don’t want there to be any doubt in your mind. I’m here for you. Only you.”

Solina’s cheeks flushed, her eyes searching his as she absorbed his words. She could see the sincerity there, the unwavering resolve that he’d spoken with. Slowly, she nodded, her hand coming up to rest against his chest as she found her voice.

“I… I believe you, Levi.” Her words were soft, but they carried a warmth that matched the shy smile beginning to form on her lips. “I’m sorry… I should have trusted you.”

He shook his head slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “No, don’t apologize. I understand. You walked in on something… confusing. But trust me when I say, I only want you.”

The relief that washed over her was overwhelming, and she felt herself lean into him, her hands still resting against his chest as she tried to gather her thoughts. She took a shaky breath, feeling the last traces of her hurt dissolve, replaced by a renewed sense of closeness with him. It was as if, in that moment, she could see the future that awaited them, a future built on trust and a growing love that she could feel blossoming between them.

Levi gave her a soft smile, his hands sliding from her cheeks down to her shoulders, grounding her. “We’re going to be alright, Solina,” he murmured, his voice reassuring. “I’ll prove that to you every day.”

Solina looked up at him, her heart swelling with a happiness she hadn’t anticipated feeling. She offered him a smile, her voice soft but steady. “I… I’m looking forward to it.”

For a moment, they stood there in the hallway, lost in each other’s gaze, the tension from before melting away as they shared a quiet, heartfelt understanding.

As Levi and Solina pulled away from each other, a lingering warmth settled between them, grounding them in a newfound sense of understanding. Just as Levi offered Solina a reassuring smile, a sudden commotion from the other end of the corridor caught their attention. Solomon, James, and Gale were converging on a figure who seemed intent on slipping away but was unable to do so in time.

Dimaria’s face twisted with frustration, her attempt to flee thwarted. She cast a desperate glance over her shoulder as Solomon, his tone laced with restrained anger, stepped closer, fixing her with a sharp glare.

“Dimaria,” Solomon began, his voice steady but biting, “are you the one behind this?”

Dimaria’s expression shifted, her anger flickering into a brief flash of fear before settling into a defensive scowl. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she spat, crossing her arms defiantly. But her gaze darted around, betraying her unease as her brothers continued to close in, and the scouts—Jean, Hange, and Armin—watched with disapproval written plainly on their faces.

Gale’s voice cut through her feigned ignorance, his tone edged with frustration. “Oh, drop the act, Dimaria. Who else would pull something so petty and vindictive?”

Dimaria’s composure faltered as she glared at him, her mouth opening to retort, but before she could, James stepped forward, disappointment etched deep in his features. “What is wrong with you?” he asked softly, the hurt evident in his voice. “How could you do this to Solina?”

Dimaria stiffened, her gaze narrowing as she tried to collect herself, summoning a mask of haughty indifference. “I didn’t do anything,” she replied, her voice brittle. “Maybe those… women showed up because someone actually thought Levi wanted some real entertainment.” Her words were laced with venom, and her gaze flickered momentarily to Solina, filled with jealousy and resentment.

Levi and Solina approached the group, and the air thickened as they realized the truth: Dimaria had orchestrated the entire thing. Solina’s heart sank, but she stood tall beside Levi, determined not to let Dimaria’s schemes diminish her happiness.

“Dimaria,” Solina spoke, her voice softer than her brothers’, though resolute. “Why? Why go to such lengths to try and hurt me?”

Dimaria’s expression hardened, but her eyes betrayed a mixture of shame and bitterness. “Because,” she snapped, her voice wavering, “you get everything handed to you, Solina. You’re the Diamond, the favored one, the perfect princess in everyone’s eyes. And now you get your perfect husband, too.”

Levi’s jaw clenched, but he held his tongue, letting Solina handle her half-sister. Solina stepped forward, her voice unwavering, yet tinged with the sadness of a bond soured by jealousy. “I never asked for any of this, Dimaria,” she said, her tone gentle but firm. “I didn’t choose to be the Diamond, nor did I ask for special treatment. And my marriage to Levi—it’s not something I took for granted. We’re both here because we want to make this work, for each other and for our countries.”

Dimaria scoffed, her shoulders stiff as she tried to hold onto her sense of pride. “You say that,” she sneered, “but you still don’t understand. You don’t know what it’s like to live in someone else’s shadow.”

At that, Solomon shook his head, stepping forward. “Dimaria, if anyone here is casting shadows, it’s you,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of disappointment. “You’ve made it impossible for anyone to be close to you with this attitude. We’re all family, yet you choose to sow division.”

Her face flushed, and for a moment, her mask cracked, revealing the hurt beneath her anger. She looked away, her voice barely above a whisper as she muttered, “It’s easy for you to say that, Solomon. You’re the heir. Everyone respects you.”

James looked at his sister with a saddened expression, as though he saw in her a lost sister he wished he could reach. “I thought I knew you, Dimaria,” he said, his voice quiet and filled with regret. “But seeing what you did to Solina—someone who’s done nothing to deserve your spite—makes me wonder if you’ll ever be able to see past your own jealousy.”

Dimaria clenched her fists, biting her lip as she felt the weight of her siblings’ disappointment bearing down on her. But instead of backing down, her face twisted into a scowl. “Fine,” she hissed, bitterness spilling from her words. “Judge me all you want. But don’t pretend any of you are perfect.”

Levi, who had remained silent throughout the exchange, finally stepped forward, his gaze piercing as he looked at Dimaria. “You may be family, but that doesn’t excuse what you tried to do to Solina,” he said, his tone low and steady. “I don’t care what grudge you hold; dragging Solina into it crossed a line.”

Dimaria’s mouth opened, but no words came as Levi’s words hit her with a finality she couldn’t deny. She stared at him, a mixture of anger and defeat in her eyes, before turning sharply on her heel, muttering under her breath as she stalked away, her pride too wounded to allow her to face any more of their reproach.

As she disappeared down the corridor, the weight in the air lifted, and Solomon turned to Solina, his expression softening as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Solina,” he murmured. “She… she’s not worth your pain.”

Solina managed a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Solomon. I think… I think I’ll be alright.”

Levi placed a reassuring hand on her back, drawing her close as the rest of the group gathered around, each of them offering their silent support.

But as Dimaria stormed away, a wave of sadness washed over Solina, dampening the relief of clearing up the misunderstanding with Levi. She had always hoped that one day she and Dimaria could overcome their differences and share the bond of true sisters. But tonight’s cruel scheme—the deceit and the lengths Dimaria had gone to try and tarnish her relationship with Levi—was like a bitter slap of reality. Solina knew, with a painful certainty, that Dimaria’s jealousy ran far too deep for reconciliation.

Standing under the evening sky, Solina sighed heavily. Levi placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, his gaze warm and understanding, but Solina mustered a small, pained smile. "Thank you," she said softly, her voice wavering slightly as she tried to hold back the surge of emotions within her. "Thank you all, but… I need to speak with my father about this. I can't keep letting her get away with these things."

Levi nodded, respecting her resolve, and her brothers, Solomon, James, and Gale, exchanged solemn glances. "We understand, Solina," Solomon said, his voice filled with quiet strength. "Go to Father. He needs to hear about this."

“Goodnight, everyone,” Solina whispered, giving Levi one last glance before turning on her heel. She walked with determined strides, feeling her heart beat faster as she prepared to confront her father about her half-sister’s actions.

…

When Solina reached the emperor’s study, she hesitated momentarily before entering. Her father, the mighty Emperor of Valoria, was sitting at his grand mahogany desk, immersed in reading official documents under the warm glow of the study lamps. He looked up at the sound of the door opening, his brow furrowing in surprise as he took in Solina’s expression.

“Solina? You’re back so soon,” he said, setting aside his papers. He studied her face intently, noting the tension in her shoulders and the sadness lingering in her eyes. “What happened?”

Swallowing hard, Solina stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts, and then spoke, her voice clear but laden with hurt. “Father… I need to tell you something. About Dimaria.”

The emperor’s expression shifted to one of attentive concern, his gaze hardening at the mention of Dimaria’s name. “What has she done now?” he asked, his tone calm but carrying an edge.

Solina clenched her hands at her sides. “She… She orchestrated something terrible tonight, and it was meant to hurt me.” She recounted the events that had unfolded—the surprise “bachelor party” Levi was lured into, the hired women meant to seduce him, and how Dimaria’s plan was for her to walk in and witness the scene, shattering her trust in Levi just days before their wedding.

The emperor’s face grew darker with each word, his gaze sharpening, and his hands slowly curled into fists on the desk. Solina had never seen such an intense look of anger on her father’s face before. It was as if he had become a towering figure of cold fury.

“She did this?” he said, his voice low and simmering with restrained anger. “My own daughter, pulling such a malicious act against her sister?”

Solina nodded, her voice soft yet resolute. “Yes, Father. And… this isn’t the first time she’s tried to hurt me. It’s just… this time, it was beyond what I could ignore. It was so cruel, and all to try and ruin my happiness.”

The emperor’s jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with a mix of rage and disappointment. “I am beyond disappointed in her,” he murmured, more to himself than to Solina. “I have allowed her too much leeway, given her too many chances, all for the sake of family harmony. But this… this is unforgivable.”

Solina hesitated, her eyes filled with sadness as she looked down, her fingers twisting nervously. “Father,” she whispered, her voice filled with both resolve and heartbreak. “I don’t want her to be punished just for the sake of it. I… I wish things were different between us, that we could be real sisters. But… I know that’s not possible. I just need you to understand that I can’t keep ignoring these things.”

The emperor rose from his desk, his powerful frame casting a long shadow over the room as he approached her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch warm and reassuring, though his expression remained cold and determined. “Solina, you are far more forgiving than I would ever be in your place. This act is not simply a slight against you; it’s a betrayal of our family, of the unity I have worked so hard to build.”

He sighed heavily, his gaze softening as he looked at her, his treasured Diamond. “I promise you, Solina, I will handle Dimaria. This won’t be swept under the rug. And if she cannot find it in her heart to respect you as her sister, then she will have to face the consequences.”

Solina looked up at him, her heart swelling with gratitude, though a shadow of sadness remained. “Thank you, Father,” she whispered. “I just… I just wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

The emperor nodded, his gaze softening with understanding. “I know, my dear. You have always been the heart of this family, the one who brings warmth to all who know you. It pains me to see you suffer because of jealousy and spite.”

He embraced her gently, holding her close. “You will have your happiness, Solina,” he said firmly. “And I will ensure that no one—family or not—will ever take that away from you.”

Solina closed her eyes, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders as she leaned into her father’s embrace. She was still hurting, but knowing that her father understood and would take action gave her a sense of peace she hadn’t felt all evening.

After a few moments, she pulled back, offering him a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Father. I… I think I can sleep a little easier tonight.”

The emperor returned her smile, his gaze filled with warmth and pride. “Go, my dear. Rest well. Tomorrow is a new day, and soon, you’ll begin a beautiful new chapter with Levi.”

With a final nod, Solina took her leave, feeling a renewed sense of strength as she made her way back to the Rose House. She knew the upcoming days wouldn’t be easy, but she was ready to face them with her family’s support—and with Levi by her side.

…

Early the next morning, Princess Dimaria and Lady Darcy made their way through the quiet palace halls, their expressions a mixture of resentment, fear, and defiance. Being summoned to the emperor’s study was a rare occurrence, one that typically signaled serious matters, especially for a member of the imperial family. The emperor usually came to the Lily House himself if he had business with Darcy or Dimaria, making this early summons all the more foreboding.

Dimaria’s stomach twisted with a simmering anger. She had no doubt that Solina had run to their father, spinning her side of the story and casting herself as the wounded saint. Solina was always so quick to play the victim, and now it had cost Dimaria dearly. Still, a small part of her wondered just how much her father actually knew—and if she could somehow talk her way out of this.

Beside her, Lady Darcy was fuming. She had warned her daughter repeatedly to be cautious with her schemes, especially so close to Solina’s wedding. But her warnings had fallen on deaf ears, and now they were walking toward what felt like judgment day. Darcy glanced at her daughter, her expression a mix of disappointment and frustration. "Dimaria," she hissed, her voice low, "if you had only listened, we wouldn’t be in this mess."

Dimaria huffed, her chin held high. "Oh, please. Solina tattles, and suddenly, I’m the villain? She’s the precious Diamond, and Father’s always taken her side. It doesn’t matter what I do."

Darcy pursed her lips, but said nothing more as they approached the emperor’s study. The door was guarded by two attendants who bowed slightly and opened the doors, motioning for them to enter.

Inside, Emperor Armand sat at his large mahogany desk, his expression unreadable yet severe. His piercing gaze rested first on Darcy, then on Dimaria. His disappointment was palpable, filling the room like a tangible force. Beside him stood Dimaria’s attendant, her head bowed, looking visibly distressed. Her presence alone was a clear signal to Darcy and Dimaria—she had already spoken, and there was no point in denying anything.

The emperor didn’t stand to greet them; instead, he gestured for them to approach with a cold nod. Once they had moved close enough, he leaned forward, steepling his fingers on the desk. "Princess Dimaria. Lady Darcy," he began, his tone controlled but laced with an edge of anger. "I have summoned you here because I believe it is time to address the disgraceful behavior that has unfolded over these past days."

Dimaria’s face flushed with indignation. She wanted to interject, but a sharp glare from her father silenced her.

“I have already heard the truth from your attendant, Dimaria.” He gestured to the woman standing by, who looked down in shame, wringing her hands nervously. “I know exactly what you attempted to do to your sister, and I am deeply disappointed that you would stoop so low, especially on the eve of such an important event for our family and kingdom.”

Dimaria’s anger bubbled over. “Of course, Father. Solina told you her side, didn’t she? Because she’s your precious Diamond! She can do no wrong in your eyes, and I’m just the forgotten daughter, the one who never shines brightly enough!”

The emperor’s gaze turned icy. He held up a hand, silencing her. “Quiet!” he commanded. The single word cut through the air, sharp and unyielding, and even Darcy flinched at its intensity.

“You dare accuse me of favoritism?” he continued, his voice low but filled with restrained fury. “My duty as your father is to guide you and correct you when you stray, to ensure that each of my children fulfills their potential and lives with dignity. It pains me greatly to see the jealousy and hatred you harbor toward your own sister. And worse, it pains me to see that your mother has enabled you and failed to instill in you the values of respect and honor that are expected of a princess of Valoria.”

Darcy’s face paled, and she took a shaky breath, but Dimaria, still defiant, shook her head. “And what about Solina? Everything is handed to her! The title, the attention, the adoration! I’ve had to fight for scraps of acknowledgment!”

The emperor’s eyes narrowed, his gaze never wavering. “Solina has earned her place. She is kind, selfless, and has always put the welfare of others above her own desires. It is not her fault that you choose to view her accomplishments as a personal attack on you.” His voice softened slightly, tinged with sadness. “Dimaria, you are my daughter. I love you, but I cannot condone such behavior. You have forced my hand.”

Turning his gaze to Lady Darcy, he sighed, and his expression shifted from disappointment to cold resolve. “Darcy, I trusted you with the education and upbringing of Dimaria, expecting you would teach her the values that befit a member of the imperial family. Instead, you have fueled her resentment and enabled her pettiness.”

Darcy’s lips trembled, and she shook her head. “Your Majesty, I only wanted the best for Dimaria. She’s always felt overshadowed. I thought…”

“Enough,” he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Your primary role as a consort is to raise our children properly, to guide them in courtly matters and instill in them a sense of honor and duty. In this, you have failed.”

A tense silence filled the room as his words settled over them like a heavy weight. Finally, he straightened, his gaze hardening as he addressed them both. “Dimaria, for your actions, you will be sent to the countryside to live with our extended family. You will spend six months working on the farm, away from the luxuries and privileges of the palace. Perhaps there, you will learn humility, respect, and the value of hard work.”

Dimaria’s mouth dropped open in shock, her face paling. “You… You can’t be serious!”

“I am very serious,” he replied firmly. “Your actions have consequences, and I will not allow such disrespect and malice to go unpunished. This is a lesson you must learn, for both your sake and the sake of this family.”

Dimaria’s face flushed with anger and humiliation, and she tried one last desperate protest. “This is just because she’s your favorite, isn’t it? Your precious Diamond!”

The emperor’s gaze was like steel. “You can accuse me of favoritism all you wish, but it does not change the fact that your actions were vile and beneath you. And I will not allow them to continue.”

Turning to Darcy, his tone softened slightly but remained resolute. “Darcy, you will retain your title as the Lily Consort and your residence in the Lily House. However, as of this moment, you are relieved of your court duties and will not see me visit the Lily House until I am satisfied that you have taken the necessary steps to mend the behavior you have enabled in our daughter.”

Darcy’s face turned ashen, her shoulders sagging under the weight of his words. Losing the emperor’s favor and affection was a blow she hadn’t anticipated, and the realization that her ambitions had led her to this moment filled her with regret.

Finally, the emperor rose, his gaze sweeping over them both with a finality that left no room for further argument. “I suggest you take this time to reflect on your actions and what kind of family you want to belong to. I will not tolerate such discord and jealousy any longer.”

Without another word, he gestured to the guards at the door, signaling that the audience was over. Darcy and Dimaria, defeated and humiliated, turned and left the study, their faces pale and their minds reeling with the gravity of their punishment.

As they walked back to the Lily House in silence, Dimaria’s resentment simmered beneath the surface, her hands clenched at her sides. But Darcy, despite her disappointment, found herself questioning the choices she had made. Perhaps it was time to let go of the bitterness that had poisoned her family for so long.

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