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basset-babe · 8 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 · 6 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 cliché 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 · 9 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 · 1 month 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 · 9 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.

217 notes · View notes

jenchan-writingmultis · 8 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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dollescent · 26 days ago

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A Lax Day in the Life of Princess Vaelyra Velaryon

Morning: The Radiance of Dawn

The first light of day kissed Vaelyra’s chambers with golden hues, illuminating the treasures she adored—pearls, delicate shells, and polished stones gleaming softly against the silken backdrop of her sanctuary. Her bed, draped in seafoam green and adorned with Myrish lace, cradled her like a gentle wave.

Vaelyra stirred and yawned, her white sea of her hair fanned across the pillows, iridescent: pink as the interior of a seashell, blue as a dawn over the ocean, gold like the sun rising over the same. Her mismatched eyes, one of blue color like the sky at dawn and the other light violet like the budding flower at dawn, shining like twin stars awakening from slumber.

Her maids entered, the sound of their voices chorusing perfectly with the coming of the sea breeze with the windows opening; their quiet shuffles harmonizing with the sea breeze filtering through the open windows. Rising gracefully, Vaelyra allowed them to wrap her in a robe of lilac silk, the fabric as soft as a lover’s caress.

Her bath awaited, a ritual of luxury and peace–a symbol of cleansing and serenity. The water glistened with crushed pearls, sea salt, and fragrant oils of dragonflower and citrus. Vaelyra rested against the soft arms of the tub, the maids washing her hair with the respect of royalty, and skin with reverent care. When she emerged, her skin resembled the sheen of the rising sun along the shoreline; her curls were supple and smooth, set in a waterfall like style, pinned with a delicate circlet of pearls.

Her gown for the day was chosen with the same care and precision—a flowing sea-green creation adorned with silver waves and golden dragons, pearls stitched along the neckline and cuffs. Her jewelry reflected her dual heritage: a necklace of Arraexys’ shed scales and a bracelet of Driftmark’s finest pearls.

Daytime: Grace in Motion

Vaelyra spent her day reveling in leisure and the simple joys of life. She wandered barefoot along Driftmark’s beaches, with her dress as light as the winds that blew, her eyes sparkling like starlight on water. With a small woven basket in hand, she collected sea treasures—iridescent shells, smooth stones, and fragments of coral.

She ventured into the gardens, where blooms of every hue vied for her attention. Her fingers brushed against petals and leaves as she strolled, hearing the birds chirp, her voice rising in soft song as though the flowers themselves deserved her melody.

Gathered under a pergola draped in roses, Vaelyra shared the afternoon with her ladies-in-waiting. They brought trays of delicate pastries—lemon tarts, lavender shortbread, and honey cakes—and pitchers of sweet wine cooled in ice. Their laughter mingled with the rustling of leaves, and Vaelyra’s clever remarks elicited delighted peals of mirth.

Evening: The Gilded Glow of Twilight

As the sun dipped low, Vaelyra returned to her chambers. Her maids helped her out of her daytime gown, carefully folding it away. She slipped into a bath once more, this time cool and calming, infused with chamomile, mint, and moonflower.

Her evening wear was softer and more intimate—a gown of pale silks and Myrish lace in shades of dusk, her hair unbound.She put on a pendant of pearls and dragon scales, the colors symbolizing her family’s love and roots.

Vaelyra dined lightly, savoring honeyed fruits and sipping a goblet of sweet wine. Afterward, she settled by the window with her journal, writing by candlelight as the sea whispered secrets just beyond the walls.

Night: The Quiet Majesty of Dreams

When the hour grew late, Vaelyra prepared for rest. Her maids turned down her bed, the silken sheets cool and inviting. She gazed at the treasures arranged around her room, her fingers lightly brushing a particularly large lush pearl she had carried with her throughout the day.

She slipped beneath the covers, the linen felt like a blanket of cumulus clouds against her skin, and closed her radiant eyes. Her breathing steadied, the gentle rise and fall of her chest resembling the ebb and flow of the sea.

Even in sleep, Vaelyra remained a vision of ethereal beauty, a dream wrapped in silks and starlight, carrying with her the whispers of fire and water.

ib: @hrrtshape

banner credits: enchanthings, sseuda

#hotd dr #reality shifter #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting antis dni #shifting blog #loassumption #manifesation #hotd #hotd shifting #game of thrones shifting #dollescent

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yandere-sins · 9 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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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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flowercrxwned · 29 days ago

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~Dickmaster's Ball~ Open Starter

Wow! Her former husband sure went all out for this event! She was impressed at his ability to put something like this together. It made it all the more exciting that she got to spend a few hours outside of purgatory for it. Though she hadn't seen Adam in... well, since she died, it might have worked out well to meet with him at such a fabulous occasion. Truth be told, she wasn't even sure he knew she was alive, let alone coming to his ball.

She gracefully walked across the ballroom in a dusty pinkish nude gown adorned with sequins that sparkled under the lights, her long golden hair clipped back with jeweled suns that complimented her effervescent golden makeup and jewelry. She wondered if she even knew anyone here or if anyone would recognize the mother of humanity that had been hidden away for almost all of eternity until this point.

#{in eden'' in character}#{dickmaster's big ball(s)#{arc'' dickmaster's ball}

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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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elegantsplendour · 2 years 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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